KSET: Wyvern, Ep: 1

The Knights of the Slightly Ellipsed Table and the Conquest of the Confused Wyvern
Made for http://monstergirlencyclopedia.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:413186 by Starglider
Special mention to Pissed Paladin, a friend of mine who graciously let me bounce ideas off him.

Update: http://monstergirlencyclopedia.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:451204 I won 5th place with this piece. I am proud. There is nothing more to say, but follow your dreams and never stop shitposting.

imgur.com/NCrL6g4 - Final score on this piece. Thanks so much for all the positive reception in this story. I will be making this into a series, part 2 is and has been in the works. I'll make it really good this time.

	She sat across from them atop a smooth, gray rock with one scale-covered leg crossed over her shin and her winged, webby arms settled in her lap. She cast her gaze over the long spires of her roost, where the sunlight seemed to be eclipsed by the fanged spires which made up the roofless walls. Bathing in the shade beside her nest, which was void of eggs, the wyvern hadn't noticed the three knights huddled behind a large formation of rocks much taller than the one she rested upon.

Sir Cumference, a knight of thick form and much cushion for the pushin', employed a simple greathelm with small eyeslits and a long, red feather which protruded from the top. His chainmail stretches to the maximum under his thickness and the tabard denoting his order's heraldry is folded to indecipherability due to both his mass and huddled, squatting position at the leftmost side of the rock. His hand rests on the handle of a short blade tucked into his belt, his other arm burdened by a large kite shield.

Sir Trumanean Esquire, which he demanded to be called but never was, is simply known to the group as Truman. The 'Sir' is dropped from his name for being so annoying about the esquire thing. He dons a bascinet and cloth armor with shiny steel plating, his halbard laid along the ground before him and his tabard somewhat torn at the bottom. He wasn't very good at watching for brambles on the path up to the roost. He sits between Sir Cumference and the last chap of the group;

Finally, their captain, Knight Gaben of Lescatie. The worst knight in all of Lescatie, as in the most failed hunts, but also surprisingly still with his purity. With such a record of survival, he is valued for his ability to protect his men at any cost, even his dignity. He wears a coif with a round, crown-like top and chainmail which fits perfectly to his lanky form. The tall, broadsword-wielding knight bears no shield like Sir Cumference. He sits with his back against the largest of rocks all the way to the right, leaning out to observe the wyvern once in a while.

The trio of would-be dragonslayers sit perplexed behind their cover. None of them have anything to say for the first five seconds, though after a few peeks out from their hiding place, and some terrifying rattle of chainmail as a result of doing so, they all shush eachother in unison. Their fingers thrust to their lips, eyes wide and expressions much too serious.

"Hold! Hold..." Truman calls in a low, fear-ridden whisper. "I'm telling you, again, she's the dragon."

Knight Gaben scoffs and shakes his head, craning his neck to peer over the rocks and gesture toward the Wyvern with the point of his finger. "That is not a dragon, she's got no wings!"

"Are you serious? Her wings are right there on her arms!" Truman whisper-shouts back at him, Knight Gaben leaning his helm up against Truman's bascinet. They all huddle to have a conversation without alerting the wyvern.

"Those aren't wings, you dolt! They're clearly webbing of somekind. You can't have wings on your arms, how would you pick things up and flap at the same time? They go on the back! That's just sensible." Knight Gaben retorts, leaning back the other way to observe the wyvern from the right side of the rock, quickly ducking back in before she spotted them. She had looked toward the rock just a second too late. They were still safe from being noticed, as the winds atop the roost are loud and their cover strategic.

Truman clears his throat to rid of a flush of adrenalen, infecting his expression with red behind the comical cone of his bascinet. "Listen, she doesn't need to lift with her hands, she has feet! Look- Look at her talons..." All three peek over the cover by the slightest margin with Truman. He points to her talons with his glove, plate rattling against the strong winds which blew the wyvern's short and magnificent, grayish-stone hair. "See? She grabs the victim and or other stolen merchandise with her absurdly thick legs, then carries them off and commits a heresy!"

Knight Gaben turns his head to Truman with an incredulous knit of his brows. "...Commits a heresy?"

Sir Cumference turns to Truman as well, questioning merely with his lardish presence.

Truman, surrounded by the scrutiny of his fellow men, turns to both of them one after the other, "Well, you know..." He makes a few circular turns of his wrist to gesture his explanation. "Rape!"

"It's not heresy if a monster does it, they've got no religion!" Sir Cumference argues, eying the distracted Wyvern as she arches her back and lets the wind kiss her soft lips.

While Knight Gaben seemed content with the explanation, now he was completely taken aback by Sir Cumference's statement. "What? Of course it's a heresy! You can't just rape people, that's barbaric! You have to ask first."

"But then it isn't rape, it's just l-lewd." Sir Cumference argues as the wyvern turns toward them.

They scramble behind the rocks, a loud clang of steel and chain filling the backdrop of whistling wind.

"Did she see us?" Truman whispers to Sir Cumference, who's feather is sticking up behind the rock.

"I don't think so..." Sir Cumference mutters, tilting his head in an attempt to observe the position of his feather, banging his helmet against the rocks. A loud, bellish sound fills the air, of which Truman expertly stops by grabbing Sir Cumference's helm and tugging him toward the dirt floor.

Now the wyvern definitely noticed. She turns toward the rock and focuses her skeptical golden gaze. The red feather had caught her eye, and she definitely knew something was going on behind that rock.

Sir Cumference peeks his head out from behind the rock with his fingers curled along the top, much like a child. His greathelm's small slits obscure his eyes and thick features.

She and the fattest of sirs lock eyes from their respective rocks, his feather bouncing distractingly atop his helm. As she was about to decide how to handle the three, Sir Cumference raises his hand and waves with a wiggle of his fingers, daintily greeting her from a distance.

Red comes to the wyvern's face, not from embarassment or arousal, but flat out confusion. She leans back on the rock awkwardly, rearing her head away and glancing over her shoulder. She points to herself, her lips slightly parted and eyes wide. She isn't sure what sort of gesture he's employing and what for. Since when does a knight wave at a monster? She awkwardly raises one of her winged arms to wave back at him.

Sir Cumference nods to her before being tugged back behind the rock by his fellows.

"You absolute moron!" Truman yells a slight bit louder as he punches Sir Cumference's shoulder with his gauntlet, a rattle of steel followed by a short and pathetic, "Ow!"

Knight Gaben raises his finger to his lips and urges the both of them to 'shh', "She's right there! Stop being so loud!"

"What?! Shush? He waved at her! She already knows!" Truman spat, indignified.

Sir Cumference shakes his head, a series of chiding tsks reverberating through his helmet. "We shouldn't be yelling, though. This is her house."

Knight Gaben thrusts his finger toward the fatty and nods his head in agreement. "Absolutely right, Sir Cumference. We are guests in her roost, and if we're to slay her, we should do it with the dignity of a Knight of the Slightly Ellipsed Table! We will treat her, and stab her respectfully! Right after we find out if she's a dragon or not."

"What!? Aagh!" Truman grasps his helm, staring at the ground in complete disbelief. "Okay! Enough, enough. This is crazy. We can easily find out if she's a dragon or not by simply consulting... The tome of knowledge!"

All three gasp, looks of desperate resignation on their face as they solemnly nod in agreement to the decision. They each turn to one another in their triangular huddle, nodding again over and over.

However, Sir Cumference seems much more wary about the use of the book than the other three. He wipes the sweat from his helmet, a cacophonous squeak made from the wet and soft leather of his gloves rubbing the metallic surface. The other two shush him in unison.

Knight Gaben reaches toward his sidepouch and draws a thick, leather-bound tome. The exaggerated caricatures of many buxom monsters are etched into the brown surface. 'MGE' is printed in large, decorative letters at center. Beneath is a simple charcoal addition to the cover, 'Order 5th Edition.'. He undoes the lewd clasp, a rod with a thick base which is locked into a tiny hole, then opens the tome. Within are the many smudged, torn and somewhat incomplete pages. A lot of information had been scratched out or too dirty to read. It would have to do.

The wyvern stared at the three's cover, waiting for them to stand again. Surely they could not be discussing their plan for too long? She felt stuck, incapable of making a decision. If she attacked them and they were peaceful it would be rude and bad for public relations, but if they were truly knights as their appearance seemed, then she would have to eventually. She brushes her hair back with her thick talons, laying across the rock and bathing her stomach in the sun which peeked through the high stones, deciding to wait it out. If they were to charge her, she would know. Looking docile would avoid conflicts, and that seemed like the best course of action for weirdos.

Truman tugs the book from Knight Gaben's hand, flipping to the dragon page. He taps the entry's picture, showcasing the wings, the fine purple hair and the green scales of which are very similar to the girl they had been watching. "See? Dragon. She looks just like it."

Sir Cumference shakes his head. "No, no! Dragon's have treasure, it says it right there." He points toward the bottom of the description. "She doesn't have any treasure, this place is empty."

Knight Gaben nods, crossing his arms over his chest. "Exactly! And besides, that picture shows her having purple hair. This one has grayish hair!" He turns to look at the sunbathing wyvern, reinforcing his nod with another. "Yep, gray." It was silvery purple. Close enough.

Truman smacks the page with the back of his fingers furiously. "They can have different hair colors! Not every human is blonde and blue eyed!"

"...They ought to be." Knight Gaben muttered, turning to look at the far wall and pout.

Sir Cumference suddenly perks, holding up his finger to announce his discovery. "Wait, what if she does have treasure?! She could keep it in a bank or something, w-where it's safer!"

"Banks? Dragons don't have banks you imbecile!" Truman retorts, raising the nose of his bascinet with a metallic creak, then glaring at Sir Cumference.

"B-but, the danuki have banks! Surely, then, dragons might use them." Sir Cumference seems unsure of his answer, pushing his fingers together and hunching his shoulders.

"He's right! The danuki are always at fault for things like this." Knight Gaben nods vigorously, tugging the book back out of Truman's hand.

Having the book reclaimed from him, Truman groaned and threw up his hands. "Oh again with the danuki rubbish! It's a dragon, damn it all!"

Knight Gaben flips through the pages, landing upon that for the wurm. Unfortunately, the page after that seemed to be missing. "Aha!", Knight Gaben exclaims, pointing to the girl in the picture. "Huge hands! She must be a deformed wurm. It's the only other one she could be."

Sir Cumference shakes his head again, Truman finally having broken down and grasped his head in disbelief.

"It's. A. Dragon..." Truman mutters, rocking his head into his knees thrice, once for each word. This created a lot of metallic noise from the bobbing of his bascinet.

"Oh calm down, it's clearly a wurm. They look so alike..." Knight Gaben raises his head over the rock to observe again, frowning.

Sir Cumference sighs, taking the book from Knight Gaben's lap as he's distracted. "No, she's not! See?" He points to the bottom half of the wurm. "She's got no snake-tail. To be a wurm you've got to have a snake-tail. She's a--"

Knight Gaben grabs the book back and flips through the pages. "You're a genius, Sir Cumference! She's a Salamander!"

"WHAT!?" Truman shouts, gritting his teeth and glaring daggers at Knight Gaben.

They both shush him in unison, then glance over their respective ends of the rock to observe the wyvern.

Due to their shouting, she had looked toward them, but as she already knew they were there, she was less afraid and more intrigued. She kept her attention on that rock for a while longer, locking eyes with the knights until they all huddled back together.

"She's not a salamander, she's a dragon! She's not even red!" Truman says, trying his best to keep his voice down.

"Ah! Good catch, Truman, but you really must be more careful about raising your voice. We don't want to interrupt her sunbathing... What if she's a lizardman? They look alike..." Knight Gaben flips to that page.

"Lizardmen don't have wings!" Truman says through grit teeth.

"Neither does she, Truman, that's webbing. Lizardman webbing." Responds Knight Gaben.

"They're. Wings!" Truman says again, his face absolutely red with irritation.

Meanwhile, Sir Cumference has propped himself up on his knees with his arms atop the rock, his heavy breath whistling through his greathelm as he stares at the sunbathing wyvern.

She turns her head to him, blinking in confusion and flapping her tail against the rock she lay atop. Her breasts were so succulently pressed together by her small outfit, and the sun showcased her fair skin so excellently.

Sir Cumference, flushed with a blush, lowers his head to rub the condensation from his helmet again. "B-by the Goddess... I'm getting too chivalrous for this shit."

"Well, maybe we should just ask her." Says Knight Gaben, raising his chin as though he were the better man.

"What? And be torn apart, then raped, then torn apart again? She's a dragon! 'They are fearsome monsters with sharp claws that can tear through steel and they breath fire that can incinerate anything.' AND 'They are “rulers of the earth” and they look down on humans as worthless, insignificant beings.'. We'd be toast, literally toast! Charred!" Truman warns, reading directly from the Monster Manual.

"Well in my headcanon she's a reasonable individual who'll atleast confirm whether or not she's a dragon first." Sir Cumference chimes in, slight irritation in his voice.

Truman sputters, then retorts; "Headcanon!? What? This is an encyclopedia!"

"...I personally prefer 3.5e." Knight Gaben states off-handedly before taking the manual back from Truman and glossing over it once more. The last page was missing, so they only had so many possibilities.

"Okay!" Knight Gaben announces, slamming the book shut with a 'clap' of air flying from the pages. He locks it up and slips it into his pouch. "Here's the plan, men. We'll ask her a series of questions. First, where is her treasure? Second, where is her sword? Third, how long is her tail? If she has treasure, she's a dragon. If she has a sword, she's a lizardman. If she has a tail that's exceptionally long, then she's a deformed wurm. Then, we shall stab her and report back to the Order."

Though Sir Cumference seems hesitant, all three of them agree on the plan and take a few breaths before working up the courage to stand from the rock. They shimmy toward the right, bracing themselves from the strong winds. Each step crushes the dirt and gravel beneath their thick soles, announcing their march.

The wyvern stands from the stone, her hair tickling her chin as the wind forces it into her face. She settles her wings around her as a shield from the airy forces, crossing her arms under her massive bust, which has completely absorbed Sir Cumference's attention.

Sir Cumference raises his helmet the slightest bit, stuttering a "M-m'lady..." toward the wyvern.

Sir Cumference and Truman stand behind Knight Gaben, who places his right hand on his blade and straightens his form. "Good day, semen demon! We are the Knights of the Slightly Ellipsed Table, brave knights who've come to slay you! But only after you answer our questions three~!" With the whimsy of a dungeon master, he waves his hand above him as though he were drawing a rainbow with his palm, his chin up and face thrust forward, mouth and eyes wide open.

"S-slay me?" The wyvern starts, planting her hands on her hips. "And just what are you going to try that for? I-"

"I'll be asking the questions here!" Knight Gaben snaps.

"Aye! He'll be asking!" Truman parrots.

Knight Gaben glances over his shoulder at his men.

"See? I told you she's reasonable..." Sir Cumference mutters.

"Alright, alright. Settle down men... Ahem! Question number one!" Knight Gaben raises his finger, waggling it at the befuddled wyvern. "Where is your treasure?"

The wyvern's brows raise, her head canting to the side. She, for reasons unfathomable, actually answers their question. "I don't have any treasure. I'm a wy--"

"Aha! I knew it, see? Not a dragon." Knight Gaben looks over his shoulder at Truman with a smirk. Before he can even retort, Knight Gaben asks the next question with a new finger added to the tally. "Question number dos! Where is your sword?"

The wyvern narrows her eyes, her tail flicking behind her due to the irritation rising in her core. "I don't have a blade either. Wy--"

"HA!" Truman spouts, raising his bascinet to reveal his grin. "She's no lizardman either..."

"Alright alright! We were both wrong, final question!" Knight Gaben raises a third finger to add to the tally, waving it in the wyvern's face from a short distance. "What, is your tail's length? Preferably on an imperial scale of inches and or an estimate... Small, medium, big, gargantuine? Something like that?"

The wyvern now stands shocked and slackjawed at their ignorance, her tail flailing behind her with the fury of the wind itself. "I tried to tell you, I'm a wy--"

"Just a measurement please! This test is very important to determine if you're a dragon, lizardman or wurm."

Truman glances about, a perplexed expression revealed as he turns to Knight Gaben and lifts his helmet's cone. "Wait... If she's got no treasure, and no sword, then she can only be a wurm can't she? You know, extrapolation from incomplete data and such? Process of elimination? Surely that's the only choice left."

Sir Cumference, having stared at the wyvern's body for so long, found his body hotter than a lava golem. To rectify this, he reaches into his pouch and pulls a torn page from the depths, rubbing his covered face with the sticky and inky surface, leaving little streaks on the metal of his greathelm.

The wyvern is about to speak again when Truman and Knight Gaben turn to the fattest of knights, their mouths wide open.

Truman had a look of absolutely unrepentant fury on his face. "YOU TORE--"

"By the Order, Sir Cumference, you've found the missing page!" Knight Gaben exclaims before he grabs the page from Sir Cumference's hand, salty sweat and other unmentionable liquid substances staining both their gauntlets.

"I-I did? Oh! Yeah! I f-found it right here on the ground! Must've blown away..." Sir Cumference covers, stepping back and looking to the wyvern as he rubs the back of his head.

Knight Gaben opens their copy of the MGE again and settles the page back into place behind 'wurm'. "Aaaah! I see, she's a wyvern!" He exclaims, tapping the new page and looking to both of his fellow knights with affirmative nods and a pursing of his lips. They golf-clap for the discovery, none of them even paying attention to the wyvern anymore.

"Are you kidding me!? I was trying to tell you three times that I'm a wyvern, and you wouldn't listen! Ugh! Yes, I'm a wyvern, can you leave now?" The wyvern asks, irritated to all hell. Dry down there was she.

"Oh- well. You are a wyvern and not a dragon so... I guess we can't kill you. We have to kill a dragon you see, she's been bothering a nearby village by looking at them while they're working. It makes them uncomfortable and she's got to go." Knight Gaben states firmly with a sway of his hand, sweeping an invisible being off the plane of the air infront of him.

"Righto! It's that one, right over there. She must be on a similar roost to this one, perhaps there's a cave nearby?" Truman asks, pointing to the spire that hangs over the village.

The wyvern is absolutely stunned by their stupidity, her teeth grit and claws digging into her palms. She's stiff, furiously so. "There's no cave nearby! I'm the only one that lives he--"

"Wait- Aren't wyverns a subspecies of dragon? She could be the dragon they speak of!" Knight Gaben exclaims, pointing to the subspecies in the book. The other two look over his shoulder and nod with an 'oooh!', then immediately begin clapping again. Knight Gaben sighs with a 'tsk tsk', looking back to the wyvern. "Suppose we'll have to stab you after all. Sorry miss."

"No, no, you know what? You people are psychotic! You can tell the village that they won't have to worry about feeling uncomfortable because I'm leaving! I came here looking for a mate, but if any of the men are like you three, then it's not worth the risk!" With that, the wyvern huffs and spins around to face the long spire overlooking the village. She then walks toward it, the wind at her back and her wings flapping for take-off.

"W-well fine! You yellow-bellied wyvern! Run away then, with your few fingers and small legs! Hah! Tiny legs that couldn't lift anything, you poor lifter you!" Knight Gaben shouts, refusing to leave his spot lest he be blown away by the thick draft.

Sir Cumference gasps, jumping from the group and jogging after her as fast as his chubby muscles can carry him. "W-wait! Miss wyvern, come back!"

The Wyvern stops just before her take-off to look to Sir Cumference, her expression filled with fury and disgust painting her lips.

"Please, m'lady, promise you'll write me? I d-didn't expect you to go so quickly, I had admired you from the rock, and waved at you!"

The wyvern, blushing at the knight's kind words, glanced toward the other two knights. For a moment, she had felt a little better about the insults from the other two. "...Well, thank you. I'm glad you admired me. You seem a lot nicer than the other two." She glances over his shoulder toward them, crossing her arms and pouting.

"She can't write you, Sir Cumference, she's got weird hands!" Truman shouts, cackling.

"Aye! And pansy legs too! She couldn't carry you across the lands to her nest if it were five feet from her, which coincidentally, it is! Hah! And you're too fat!"

The wyvern shrieks a cry of irritation before taking off from the spire. Her body slowly lessens in detail and fades away as she flies off toward some undisclosed location, Sir Cumference drops to his knees and grabs his helm, "No! My... My waifu!" He mourns as a jolly laugh fills the roost from the other two knights.

The End.

(Edited some mistakes)