Dragon Hunters

Synopsis: The world has become a vast conglomerate of islands of varying size and shape. This babbling universe is mainly populated with ruthless rogues, surly peasants and illiterate, petty lords. Their main concerns revolve around two fundamental rules: Eat and don't get eaten. For this new world has become infested with a terrible plague: omnipresent, monstrously famished, mutant creatures, are wreaking havoc - They are known as the Dragons. Gwizdo and Lian-Chu are two dragon hunters, but are a long way from being among the best. Their only real talents: the size of the hulking brute with the heart of gold, Lian-Chu, and Gwizdo's talent for scams of all and any shape or form. Their sole ambition: to buy a little farm where they can relax and raise mussels, a creature that is a lot less unpleasant and difficult to hunt down than dragons. A few islands away rises the fortress of Lord Arnold. Arnold has a problem: he's living in terror at the thought of the return of World Eater, that horrible d
Production: Peace Arch Entertainment
  1 nomination.
Rotten Tomatoes:
80 min

Tim Bowman

I do not fear you,

ugly thing.

My heart is pure

as a fresh water spring.

The Silver Knight Gothic was standing,

facing the terrible skeleton dragon.

That stared at him,

with his big, ugly empty eyes.

With my silver daggers

I shall lop off your head.

Jus ...

Justice will be done only

when you are dead.

The terrible skeleton dragon

stumbled and staggered

and collapsed with an agonizing groan,

that sent shivers down the spine.

The frail King emerged from his hiding place

to congratulate the noble Silver Knight Gothic.

Enough you little pest.

Clean everything up.

But my lord Gildas,

I am playing the "Silver Knight Gothic."

Your uncle, the good lord Arnold,

awaits us for supper.

Still no sign of them, my good lord?

Nothing, Gildas, nothing at all.

I can no longer see, but I am absolutely certain

my faithful knights will never return.

With all due respect, my lord,

you have allowed dispair to overcome you ...

Do you want me to dance a Jig?

Come, come now mi'lord ...

Where are those days of yore when my

castle did shine in all its glory?

Where are my men, my guards,

my five players?

Alas they have all fled, my good lord.

I may be blind, Gildas,

but I am nobodys fool.

It is quite clear that no one wishes to

remain in this fortress.

Who would want to live here,

in fear of the World Gobbler.

Speaking of which, it is night time to send

your niece to a safe haven.

To the convent of the crooked

tooth Sisters.

Ahh Gildas, if only I'dve had a nephew ...

I could have taught him the basic principles

of Dragon hunting.

Oh, yes, please Uncle, that would be so darn neat.

It's not that I would rather have you be a boy,

my little girl, but the fact is you are not one.

Hunting just isn't suitable for little girls.

It's Granion of Bismuth, my uncle.

Granion ...

You're alive!

And the World Gobbler,

have you seen him, have you slain him?

Cease your stupid groaning!

I'll take you late.

Now where are my other loyal knights?

With all due respect, my lord, our faithful

Granion is but a pile of ashes.

- The Smoldering Knights ...

- Another sign, my lord.

Raise the Drawbridge,

lower the Portcullis.

- We've got to get a bigger Knight.

- You, go pack your bags, you're going to the crooked tooth ...

Lock all the doors,

and bring me my battleaxe and sword.


We've got to get the Silver Knight Gothic.

The tail Lian-chu, the tail. Teach him a lesson.

You hear me? Go on!

Hit him in the tail!

Go! Go!

On your feet.

Keep your guard up.

And don't let him barf on you.


Okay, fun's over guys.

Let's see, here we go;

Article 3, clause 2: states

Upon receipt of the slain Momularis,

Fat John of Wickashire shall

pay the measly sum of 24 Guinneas

to the valerous dragon hunters.

I do not see any hunters.

All I see is a bevy of clowns.

Walking disaster.

Look what your bonehead there did to my cabbage

patch with his goofball antics.

Fat John of Wickashire, look at me.

Isn't that your x there at the bottom of the contract?

Enough said river rat,

you're gettin' diddly squat.

Do you want to get my muscle bulging

buddy all riled up, is that what you want?

Move out of my fields.

And take the clown with you.

Oooh, the mutt wants his doggy food huh?

Dear me.

Great, I just tore my tights.

What's the matter Gwizdo, are you mad?

You think, that for once

you could take your job seriously?

It is always the same old circus, Lian-chu.

All you do is clown around for the peanut gallery.

But I don't do it on purpose.

And it's a blimey good thing too ...

Why, praytell, do you think these hicks never pay?

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