Arthurian Monster Girls Chapter 2 WORK IN PROGRESS

	Despite what most think, the castle Camelot still stood- but as a shadow of it's former self. Dark, twisting spires replaces gleaming towers, and the land itself was darkened by the foul magics trapped within. When Morgan slew the king Uther, his last act was to trap the succubus' influence within the castle's walls. In the central courtyard, the old king's sword stood, jutting out of a stone in the center. Try as she might, Morgan could not remove it. Only a true king could remove the sword, and it's magic refused to listen to any not pure of heart.

	Morgan ruminated over these facts again, boredly tuning out the report from one of her orcish raiding parties.

	"- And while the ambush did catch the rebel knights off guard, their training was far too much for my men and women to match. We lost at least a dozen warriors. I don't think we'll be taking over Inglewood any time soon, my mistress," The pig-like orcish Warmistress concluded, her small band of raiding leaders in line behind her. Morgan sighed.

	"Orc, how long have you served as Warmistress?"

	The orc blinked, "I took over after Irgramarsh fell six months ago, your ladyship."

	"Well then, I guess it's time for a change in leadership," the succubus replied, waving a hand at the woman. A bolt of eldritch power erupted from her hand, striking the orc right in the chest and burning straight through. The other orcs squealed in shock and horror, as Morgan lazily pointed at one of them, "You- what is your name?"

	The orc gulped, stepping forward, "N-Nargyla, y-your ladyship."

	"Congratulations, Nargyla- you've been promoted," Morgan said, and stood up from her throne, "Please do try not to disappoint me like your predecessor. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to meet with my lieutenant," and with that, the succubus strode forward, a jet black wing like that of a raven's unfurling as she passed, inappropriately stroking the newly minted Warmistress as she passed. Morgan ignored the panicked squeals and grunts as the orcs talked amongst themselves when she exited. Orcs were simple creatures- point them at your enemy and let loose. At least, that was the theory- these remnant knights seem to be proving quite the pain in the demon lord's side.

	Morgan strode through the halls with purpose, her lowly servants scurrying out of her way. She headed for the barracks- recently set up for her latest addition to her army.

	"Lanceliet!" She called, opening the heavy wooden doors with a magical flick of the wrist. Inside were the dragoons- mercenary monsters of the highest skill and loosest morals that Morgan could find. And in charge of the lot, stood a massive woman- jet black hair and wielding a zweihander at least as tall as she was. But this was no ordinary woman, her arms and legs clad in scarlet scales and leathery wings pinned closed behind her back. She was a dragon- and one of the last.

	"Le Fey," The dragon Lanceliet said, taking a knee, "What do you require of me?"

	Morgan slowly arched an eyebrow, "I do beg your pardon, but what did you address me as?"

	Lanceliet kept her gaze aimed at the ground, taking in a sharp breath, "I apologize... my queen. I won't let it happen again."

	"See to it you don't, I would hate to have to replace two generals in one day," Morgan said, then motioned the dragon to rise.

	"The rebel knights and the centaurs of Inglewood seem to have forged an alliance."

	"Is that why your orc raiders came back with half their numbers today?" Lanceliet retorted. Morgan frowned at her, "You presume too much, dragon. Do not forget why you came to MY help to begin with."

	Lanceliet's face did not betray her rising anger, and she simply responded, "Of course... my queen."

	"Good," Morgan said, circling around her, "Inglewood is of important strategic location. I need you to take two of your best fighters and drive the knights out. If we cut off their communications with the centaurs then their alliance means nothing."

	"As you wish, ma'am."

	Morgan smirked, "Good girl," she said and walked back out. The dragon knight glared daggers at her receding form, taking another breath to quell her temper. She turned back to the squabbling gang of monsters, sizing up potential partners.

	"Mordra, Black Knight- you're with me. Queen's orders," She called, and two of the rowdy dragoons feel in behind her.

	The Black Knight, as she refused to go by her living name, was a woman clad in inky black armor, making her appear much larger than the slight figure that lay inside. Mordra, conversely, wore almost no armor at all- dhampirs hadn't much use for it since very little could pierce their skin to begin with.

	"Would you look at that? Lancie willingly working with the two of us," the dhampir woman said, chuckling darkly. The Black Knight barked laughter, "I would tell my heart to be still, but it hasn't beaten in a good ten years!"

	Lanceliet rolled her eyes, "If you two are quite done."

	The Black Knight lifted up her face plate, her grin stretching far past into the stitched skin on her face, "You really oughta remove that stick up your arse. Maybe use it to get off once or twice, no wonder you're so upti-"

	With a growl, Lanceliet backhanded the belligerent knight, knocking her head clean off. Mordra raised an eyebrow, "Now, now- temper, Lanceliet."

	The Black Knight's body staggered around, hands extended outward in search of it's missing head. An annoyed sigh escaped the helmet laying on the ground, "Over here, jackass! Turn left- left! Your OTHER LEFT- right you don't have any ears. Someone please give me a hand!"

	Mordra walked over to the dislodged head, picking it up and jamming it down on her shoulders once again, "You really should quit the jokes while you're still ahead."

	"You're hilarious," The Black Knight replied, adjusting herself until she was correctly aligned, before continuing, "So- hunting knights in Inglewood then?"

	Lanceliet sighed once more, absolutely befuddled as to how that buffoon of an undead knight managed to terrorize a whole barony for ten years, "Yes- we head out in five minutes."

	"Oh goody," Mordra said, licking her lips, "I was in the mood for strapping young men."

---

	Dawn broke on a new day, and after a few hours of riding through the night, Arthur and Guinevere had stopped to rest. The light of the sun graced the boy's face, waking him from his slumber. He yawned, and stretched his arms overhead.

	"Gwen- Gwen get up, we've got to keep going," He said, and poked his companion's cheek. She twitched a little, murmuring, "Keep going... oh Artie you cad~..."

	Arthur frowned, blushing, "Gwen!"

	Guinevere woke with a start, pushing the human half of her body off the ground, "Ah! I- Artie! I wasn't- I-"

	Arthur fixed her with a knowing stare, and the girl grinned sheepishly, finding the ground suddenly more interesting to look at. Arthur stood up, brushing leaves off of his red cloak. Gwen followed suit, running her fingers through her hair as sleep had mussed it up.

	"So did you have any idea where this little venture should head?" She asked, and Arthur nodded in response. He picked up his sack, rustling through it before he took out a roll of parchment. Once he unrolled it, he revealed it to be a map, with a route plotted out and everything. Gwen whistled, "You've been thinking about this trip for a while, it seems."

	"Fortune favors the prepared," Arthur replied, and traced the route with his finger, "We need to get to the Lady of the Lake- she'll be able to tell us what we need to find to defeat Morgan. It's not an easy journey- but the best route crosses into the southern border of Inglewood.

	Gwen frowned, "That's awfully close to Morgan's territory."

	Arthur nodded, "Yes, but we shouldn't be there for more than a day. After riding last night, we should reach it by nightfall, and be at the lake within three days time."

	Gwen nodded, "Alright, let's get to it."

	Arthur rolled his map back up, stuffing it in his sack and mounting his faithful steed-slash-betrothed once more. They set off at a good clip, the plates in Gwen's armor clinking with her movements. The forest was still fairly dark, though sunlight teased through gaps in the leaves. The air was fresh and crisp, the first signs of autumn's approach. The odd chirp or chitter from the birds and other small creatures that inhabited the forest gave a soothing break to any silence that might have put one on edge.

	"Galahad's become quite the serious fellow," Arthur said, breaking the conversational silence between them, "He used to be much more..."

	"Naive?" Gwen offered. Arthur rolled his eyes, "He's a whole year younger than me, how did he change from the shy person he was to the man he is now?"

	Gwen shrugged, "Sir Robin's been bringing him on the scouting missions for years now. He's seen actual combat- stuff like that forces people to grow up quickly."

	Arthur sighed, "We used to be close friends; I could barely even read him when we talked at dinner..."

	Gwen twisted to look back at him, offering a sympathetic smile, "He's still your friend- more terse, for sure, but once this war is over and we all have a chance to relax, everything can go back to how it was."

	Arthur nodded, "I hope so."

	The next few hours passed, idle chit-chat passed between the two of them more often than quietness. The trees grew thicker; more wild. The passive magic permeating the lands around monster territory tended to do this, making the land more wild and mysterious. The forest of Inglewood itself, Arthur had heard, was set in a permanent mist. And it was when the road in the distance started blurring, the two had realized they had finally arrived near Inglewood's borders.

　　　　“All this mist is the perfect set up for an ambush,” Arthur remarked. Gwen nodded, “That’s how the orcs got the drop on us last time- thankfully we had our guard up.”