The Slave Knight Part 1: The Dagon

Chapter Five: Toward A Safe Haven

It was early morning when the slave knights awoke. Most, if not all were oddly limber, given the fact that they slept snug in their armor. Slave knights wore their armor at all times, even during their sleeping hours, not that they had a choice otherwise, and from a young age they quickly became accustomed to sleeping in their shells of metal and steel. Surely, when they turned old enough, their bodies would suffer from rheumatism, hunched backs, and brittle bones, but it was a sacrifice the meisters had been oh so willing to make.

In spite of the hard rest most had, the armor provided some comfort with some padding, a decent amount of warmth, and protection from the elements, that most in the outside world would have loved to have. They awoke to another cloud filled day, as all days were full of clouds given the perpetual winter above them. The clouds shone grey, in all its acrid splendor, as one roused the other to prepare for the day's march.

In the late hours of the night Sir Winona had assured Sir Wallace that there was an on ramp that lead straight onto Haven and beyond, that is if the nasty blockages, that the Milf was wont to be rid of, were not on the road. She surmised that the roads still had some regular husks, but none built like walls within and without the Milf. This spurned Sir Wallace's curiosity and he began questioning Sir Winona on how such walls were built and where exactly they came from. She was more than happy to answer, in spite of the grim tellings that would come about.

"Well, the monsters of the Milf," Sir Wallace sniggered at that. She responded with a coy smile, glad that he had been warming up to her. As warm as Sir Wallace to get with a woman, but nonetheless cold otherwise. Sir Wallace had not been a slave knight that was partial to women, nor was he partial to men either. He did not involve himself in sex, or rapes, or anything involving such things. He involved himself in his duty and what he was called to do, and that is why it is always so crucial for him to have such guidance. That is why it pained him to be dangling in the wind to figure himself out. But, that is beside the matter at this point. What matters was Sir Winona's explanation.

"The Monsters of the Milf are dastardly creatures and are not just content to steal the seed of nary every man that passes through their nests. No, no, no, work must be done for them. Prime example - the walls. The men that are ensnared are forced into hard and backbreaking labor, usually after they break the backs of the she bitches the fuck, if you know what I mean," he did not, but he smiled any way as she gave him a wink, "lifting and doing all that their strength allowed, and then some, but all at the will and whims of the siren that sings their shit eating songs."

She laughed at that, a nice sweet laughed that pricked Sir Wallace's ears, but not too much. "Any normal man would die trying to lift those husks, but under the spell of the siren song they did all to please those ghastly creatures."

It was a terrible thought for Sir Wallace. He was a slave surely and he had no freedom to piss let alone anything else without proper leave from the meisters, but being a knight, while far from easy work, was nothing backbreaking, like lifting husks to build walls and whatever those creatures thought prudent. Yes, he could die or be maimed or worse, at any given moment nonetheless, but he made it thus far with most of himself intact. With decent food, a place to rest his head each night and some favor from various baroneys. The meisters knew the limits of a slave knight and only pushed them so far. It seemed that the Milfs had no predilection for restraint as the meisters had.

"The husks would be dragged and pulled and carried from all around to be put on display for all to see and for all to be damned. The Milf is a veritable fortress of sorts," Sir Winona explained, "Little go in, even less come out. All for the work of the men that fall under the siren song." Sir Wallace was left with such thoughts as they night tarried on.

As easily as the night came, it left and the cloud filled sky brightened to a silvery gray and all the Wild Boars and Wenches made their way toward Haven, and thusly toward the Dagon. The on ramp was where Sir Winona had rightly explained and Sir Wallace was happy that he was able to at least trust her with some basic knowledge of the surrounding areas. But he still held harsh mistrust for her and her warband's purposes. As the warbands mounted the ramp back onto highway ninety and five they had some reprieve from the hulking discolored oddities.