You’re right, I was.
Dragon Magazine is a D&D mag.
IIRC, the dragon in Beowulf was especially pissed about the stolen gold cup because it was his favorite cup for drinking from. Which makes for an odd mental picture.
I’m not sure that dragons in sagas like Beowulf are supposed to bear much physical resemblance to the popular image of dragons nowadays – size, in particular. Beowulf’s dragon was probably no bigger than a giant or troll, and they certainly would be imagined as drinking mead or whatever. Dragons probably fell into the same category of “big enemy things that otherwise act a lot like we do”.
Also, Beowulf’s dragon may draw from the same Norse/Germanic tradition of not having originated as a dragon, but having been a person (or similar) who turned into a dragon to protect his horde. Where, again, one could imagine he’d’ve had a favorite gold cup. Although I don’t really recall much background detail on the dragon in Beowulf; lots on Grendl and Grendl’s mom, then “oh yeah, and a dragon too.”
Which is kind of ironic, since it’s the dragon that kills old Wulfy. You’d think that would merit more character development…
The dead dragon may have been Lord Octesian, but it’s not certain. Eustace turns into a dragon not just by taking some of the treasure but by sleeping on a dragon’s hoard with greedy, dragonish thoughts in his heart. So if the same thing happened to Lord Octesian, there’s a definite suggestion that there must have been a dragon there before who previously owned the hoard, who may himself have been… and so it’s dragons all the way down.
I’d say it’s not just greed or covetousness, but also about power and domination (also prime characteristics of Morgoth et al.). By claiming and controlling things that everyone else wants, and successfully defending against all others, the dragon demonstrates its power.
I think my puppy has dragon blood. We keep his toys in a peach crate. One by one he pulls most of his toys out of the box and drops them wherever he’s decided to camp out (especially on our bed.) Eventually he’s lying amid a nice little pile of chewy ropes and bouncy balls. At night we pick the toys up and put them back in the crate, like Sisyphus.
He’s so reluctant to leave the toys behind, that he taught himself to carry three at a time. He spent countless hours developing the techniques. He’d start to move to a new location, pick up one toy and take a few steps, then look back and frown at the toys left behind. Drop the one, go back, pick up one, take a few steps, drop … try to pick up both … over and over. It’s fun to watch. 
In PJ’s Hobbit case, that’s apparently not an issue, since the gold hoard shown in the film has to be at least 90% as large as all the gold ever mined. Apparently there’s a lot more in Middle Earth than current Earth.
Well, of course. The dragons ate it all, so there’s not much left. 
When St. George or St. Michael is portrayed slaying a dragon, it’s usually no bigger than a crocodile. But maybe that’s just because of the limited space in a stained-glass window or a corner of an illuminated manuscript.
At least it makes more sense than the Reign of Fire dragons living on ashes. Nothing lives on ashes. That’s like stuffing your fireplace with ashes.
Maybe their digestive system is full of chlorine trifluoride. 
That only works if they use chlorine trifluoride for burning their food at a cellular level, which no known life-form does, AFAIK.
“I swear doc, it wasn’t on purpose, I was just walking around naked and just fell in there!”:eek:
Yep, that’s Turin, who meets his sister Nienor who has had her memory wiped by Glaurung the dragon (so we get back to dragons again) and as for him, he hasn’t seen her since she was a small child and doesn’t recognise her. He names her “Niniel” (“Tear-maiden”) and over time they fall in love and marry. After she conceives, but before she gives birth, Turin slays Glaurung but is kayoed, and when Niniel arrives, Glaurung restores her memories before dying and calls Turin a number of unkind names, ending “but the worst of his deeds thou shalt feel in thyself”. Nienor, realizing what has happened, flings herself off a precipice, while Turin, when he recovers consciousness, throws himself on his sword.
Then both parents show up, the mother dies and the father grief stricken wanders away to die.
It’s the feel good story of the 1st Age.
Apparently all the gold ever mined would fit into a cube about 80 feet on a side. Smaug’s pool seemed a lot larger than that.
All the gold ever mined by HUMANS. The Dwarves were a little bit OCD for the shiny.
Or as Pratchett puts it, they don’t actually love gold; that’s just what they say to get it into bed.