The Home of Hamel the Hay Merchant, Part II

Fred was horrified. The being huddled in the corner of the cottage might have once been a man, but no more. It looked as if chunks of several animals had been hastily thrown together with no regard for how they might fit each other. The only thing that remained vaguely human were the eyes - and they reflect more pain than he had ever seen.

The couple exchanged a knowing look between them. Hamel did the explaining. “You see,” he told the mageslayer, “William always had a heart of gold, and he was a brave boy - mildly retarded, but brave. One day he broke out of his cage and...to make a long story short...this what happens when you take on a mage and fail. Miserably.”

Just then a beautiful young lass bounded into the room and stopped short when she spotted the dashing, though rough looking, young knight. Her figure was slightly robust(meaning she had some serious junk in the trunk), but shapely. Her gravity-defiant breasts were perky and supple, her hair was long, curly, and luxurious, and smelled of apples. Her eyes were like two brilliant blue diamonds, twinkling with lascivious intent. “Who’s this, daddy?” she asked in mock-innocence, playing with a strand of her silky red hair.

“Ah yes!” Hamel declared lovingly. “This is my beautiful young virgin daughter, Bertha. Bertha, meet Count Phinneus, or wait. No that's not it. Uh...Sir Ferdinand? What was your name again, lad? Ah yes, Lord Fred. He’s here in Vjorica to slay a mage. He'll probably be dead soon.”

A seductive smile spread across the angelic features of her face. “Is he going to stay for long, daddy?”

Hamel burst into laughter. “No bother at all, lad! No bother at all.” He leaned in closer. “Lay a hand on my daughter and I’ll skin you alive,” he whispered coarsely. “We’re saving her for a rich one.”

“Well, my good Count,” Hamel remarked dryly, changing the subject abruptly. “Allow me to show you to yer quarters.”

Eventually they reached the ‘guest room’, which was basically a closet with hay strewn on the floor. It was free and warm and safe, so Fred wasn't complaining. It smelled like pig shit with just a hint pig urine, on that note. The smell didn't seem to bother Hamel the slightest.

Fred took a generous swig from the canteen, then stared at him blankly. "Huh? Do what in a who now?"

Hamel grunted. “I’ll know if you taint her, lad,” he said, getting right to the point. “The missus keeps a constant tab on her nether regions. I’ll know if you so much as insert a finger...”

1. "Let's eat!" Hamel said.

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