Till something happened, blew everything to hell.
-Freddie Blassie’s, “Pencil Neck Geek”
Times were hard for the humble Paladin. The Demon Lord had won, and monstergirls were now accepted throughout the kingdom. A Paladin no longer had any place in a world where men now freely slept with these monstrous women. But the new government was determined to retrain these poor men, and reintegrate them into decent society. No matter what the cost.
“How many more times are you going to get sent here this week!?”
You bravely faced your foe, a mighty dragon. But you had battled this monstrosity many a time before, and were not afraid. You were Sir Alfred Yaleton, noble Paladin and servant of our most wondrous Chief Goddess. Compared to her love this demon was but a helpless child. By the end of the day many a tale would be told about your heroic vanquishing of Kathy from Human Resources.
“You kneed Heather in the face! All she did was offer you a titfuck!” The dragon snarled. The evil beast was correct, you had indeed battled with the foul Holstaurus from accounting, and tasted sweet victory before your nemesis had summoned you into her dark lair. “You might have given her concussion, you fuckwit!” Smoke billowed from her mouth as she glowered down at you. Her room had been made fireproof due to health and safety concerns, the concerns being that she might burn down this building like the last two she was stationed at.
How such a mighty warrior had fallen, not long ago you were a legend, a protector of the innocent. Songs were sung of your great deeds by the finest bards of the land, and Tom Jones. But now you simply toiled away in an office surrounded by the repugnant beasts who you once fought bitterly against.
“Ara ara! Alfie’s been a naughty boy!” cooed an Arachne hanging from the ceiling. You didn’t know what kind of incantation “ara ara” was, but you thought it best to assume she was attempting to curse you. You reached for your holy shield to protect yourself, only to remember it was confiscated last week, when you hit that Lizardwoman in the head with it for slapping your ass.
“Seru was an Imperial Alchemist with the royal court of Vamore before I annexed the kingdom. Now she’s a confident and clever Manticore….”
“Manic Ore?”
“Manticore.” Mari corrects. “A beast whose cunning, beauty and lust rivals even that of my lilim sisters.”
She turns the page and I’m greeted by the striking image of a woman with charcoal grey flesh, wolf’s ears and an eye with dark sclera similar to Mari’s. In her portrait, she seems to be looking at me with a toothy grin, complete with even sharper and more prominent canines than Mari. There appeared to be a mane of dark fur around her neck
“Shit! She was just play-acting as this confused, free-spirited traveller so I’d let my guard down!” is my first thought as I absently reach for a rather empty spot along my belt before realizing that I left the .357 back in the truck.
Mari hit the ground and took two running strides towards me before slowing up. However, instead of
Her face was partially obscured by a large white summer hat ringed with what looks like roses along the brim- the pattern broken up by something dark above each temple. For some reason, the pale figure reminded me of some of the pictures I’ve seen of the beautiful and photogenic women who show up at the Kentucky Derby on race day. There was something on her back- from a distance I thought it might have been