In days of old, when dragons still ruled the land with their insatiable hunger for gold, it was common for human kings, armed with an equal level of greed but an unfortunate lack of wings, scales, and fire breath, to send brave and foolish knights out on quests to slay the dragons and reclaim the stolen treasure. These knights went forth dressed in metal armor, assuming that the metal, which was difficult to melt, would allow them to withstand the dragon’s fire, an assumption that came from a lack of understanding in thermodynamics. The knight would realize their failure in logic as they were swiftly cooked to death within their own scalding armor. As a result, dragon hoards were commonly littered with armor-encased bones as well as the odd discarded sword and shield.

It is a little-known fact, however, that dragons do not only collect their gold from human kings. Some dragons are prolific miners, tunneling deep beneath the earth to find treasures in their purest, most natural form. Others, those smaller, younger dragons born into regions where all the elder dragons have already sacked local castles for all they’re worth, realize that the only nearby source of treasure is the hoard of another dragon.

Dragons are not in the habit of fighting each other, since a dragon’s scales are the only armor that is truly impenetrable to a dragon’s fire or claws, and so such a fight could go on until both combatants collapse from exhaustion. But there is little honor among dragons, and they are not above provoking each other.

There came a time where Stagchomper, eldest green dragon of the tallest mountain in the middlemost kingdoms, caught a young purple dragon attempting to leave his cave with a heavy gold crown in her jaws.

“Do you rob me, little thief?” Stagchomper rumbled, the cave floor trembling from his voice alone.

“Oh, no, ancient one,” the young dragon mumbled around the treasure held between her teeth, “I merely intend to polish it for you, and return it swiftly.”

“Set it down and leave,” said Stagchomper, and the young dragon, who had no notoriety and therefore no name, did as she was told, dropping the crown on the nearest pile of jewels and dashing from the cave with a twitch of her tail.

Two days later, Stagchomper again saw the young purple dragon in his cave, this time digging through a pile of coins larger than her own body.

“Do you rob me, little thief?” Stagchomper demanded, and the pile of coins scattered as the young dragon quickly backed out of it.

“Oh, no, no, no, ancient one,” she said. “I have an interest in history, you see, and your collection of human currencies spans centuries! Might I stay and have a look?”

“Leave,” said Stagchomper, “and do not return.” And the young dragon left.

Three days later, an ear-splitting roar shook birds from their trees all across the tallest mountain in the middlemost kingdoms, for Stagchomper had found the young purple dragon once again, her arms covered in golden bracelets and necklaces and charms.

“Does your brazenness know no bounds, little thief?” Stagchomper towered over the purple dragon. “You rob me!”

The little dragon looked over her shoulder at the entrance to the cave. She looked up at Stagchomper.

“Technically, none of this stuff has actually left the cave yet,” she said. “So, no, I do not rob you.”

Stagchomper roared again, and in his rage, he picked up one of the mighty metal shields left behind by one of the many knights he had slain, and he threw it at the purple dragon! To his surprise, she stood up on her hind legs, caught the metal disc in her mouth, and then turned tail and fled the cave, golden bracelets jingling all the way, never to return.

And that is how the game of frisbee was invented.