There be dragons

He received many warning from wrinkly old sages and bleached skeletons of past failures but our would-be hero had nothing but scorn for the Dragon. He could handle anything. 

But he barely got out of the quaint little village nestled in the green green hills before being run down by a cart, witha  heavy load. Strapped down in the back were several  barrels full of procrastination (They look just like barrels of rum but they weigh a lot more). One of the barrels got loose and landed squarely on his head as the last pair of wheels jolted over the meaty speed hump that was his body. It hurt. It hurt more when he woke up. Worse , somehow, while apparently unconscious he had crawled off the side of the road, and found himself wallowing in a pit of, worryingly premature, plot failure. 

I made it to 2 000 words people, but according to my target I should be much closer to double that. Can I make up for it tonight? I can say with a great deal of enthusiasm, that I positively do not feel able.