Fantasyland I

“I thought knights were supposed to be honourable,” the boy was covered in mud and bits of straw, tufts of matted hair made his head look strangely oblique.

“You’ve been reading too many Dragonlance novels kid,” the knight muffled through his beard, flicking the child a look of disdain, “besides, you are thinking of paladins, they are the honourable ones, us knights, well we take what we can get. These are hard times.”

It was true these were hard times and they were only getting harder. Knights were forced to sell their armour just to make ends meet and it was why Harold was undressing the dead blacksmith of his thick leather apron and boots. The child took a step away from the knight.

“Do knights get scared,” the boy asked, his voice quivering ever so slightly.

“Not of kids generally no, but the way you smell I may revise that.

“What about werewolves?

Harold looked up at the child who had taken another step back. Then he heard the snarl.

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