Steemlords: Sir Muxxy misses breakfast

Sir Muxxy was most put out. On his trek eastwards a rather off-putting thing happened, and he was miffed; during the night his camp was ambushed by an angry mob of gnomes. He valiantly hid under his bed and fell asleep during the ruckus. He awoke with the sun failing miserably to poke through the clouds and called upon his squire.

"Shane, get thee hither. My fast requires breaking."

No reply. Where is the sniveling wretch? Sir Muxxy boldly dragged himself from his hiding place and looked at what was left of the camp. The gnomes had done a right number on it. Shane's cart was missing, along with the copper bath, bookcase, his entire wardrobe and the stove. Fearing the worst, he looked for Martha. No, there she is, asleep in the upper branches of the large oak tree.

"Well, this is unfortunate. Shane! Where for art thou?"

He sniffed, yet the air was fragrant. No, The Squelcher was definitely not nearby.

"Hmm, perhaps he has gone to fetch breakfast. Good fellow."

Two suns and a moon passed, and breakfast remained steadfast in its refusal to arrive. Sir Muxxy's mood soured. For the first time in his privileged life, he had to do something for himself. He coaxed the unicorn from the tree, saddled her and set off in search of sustenance.

Following a dirt track, Sir Muxxy found his way to a nearby village. The ramshackle buildings could barely qualify as hovels. He noticed all the villagers were of the fairer variety, no men to be seen.

"I say, poor peasant woman. Whence forth be thine menfolk at?"

A woman draped in rags was stirring a pot of mud on a fire.

"They be gone nigh on three months m'lud. Went off to fight for t'baron or some such nonsense. Good rid I say."

"Oh, why pray tell?" He thought it best to humor her.

"Lazy buggers they be. We womenfolk have t' hunt mud, cook mud, build our homes with mud. They eats it, sleeps in it, bugger off t'pub-"

Ignoring her plight his ears pricked up.

"Oh, a tavern?"

"Over yonder, past the--"

Sir Muxxy bravely dodged further discourse with the insufferable woman and led Martha to the village square where he found a larger hovel, several horses tied up outside. He boldly dismounted and entered. Inside it looked slightly worse. Mud tables and mud benches lined the walls. Womenfolk dressed as menfolk dotted the tables to make it look busy. He approached the mud bar and sighed.

"Innkeep, I have traveled far and suffered greatly. A flagon of ale and your finest meal."

"Mud then is it, aye?"

"Oh, I say. Um-"

Just then a mighty crash took his mind off the unappetizing meal. The womenfolk rushed outside to investigate and started screaming. Before he could courageously hide in the kitchen, Sir Muxxy was dragged outside.

An enormous green dragon filled the square, randomly snatching heads off villagers, horses, and unicorns.

"Do something, Sir Knight! We beseech thee!"

Unwilling to get his sword dirty he decided the best course of action was to reason with the beast.

"I say, foul creature. That's terribly rude. Be a good fellow and be gone."

It swung its huge head towards Sir Muxxy, opened its jaws and belched a stream of fire. If not for his rather spiffing armor he would have burned to a crisp.

"Now look here you tiresome beast. I am getting rather cross. You have devoured my dear Martha, I have not eaten for days, I am lost, and my man servant has up and gone. This is not the jolly adventure one hoped it would be."

The dragon looked-guilty.

"Sorry. I'm just doing dragon things."

"I should think so too. Now be terribly kind and leave this dilapidated village and peasant women be. What?"

The dragon's brows raised, the corners of its mouth dropped, and streams of tears poured from its eyes. Sir Muxxy was, as previously mentioned, a charitable fellow, and put his arm around the dragon.

"There there now. I'm sure you didn't mean it, what?"

"He ate my horse!" Came a shout from the crowd. Another screamed "Oi! My poor mother ain't got no head!" The ladyfolk were getting restless. They started gathering mud.

"Let's make a deal, dragon."

"Satt."

"What?"

"My name is Satt."

"Oh, right-Satt. Well met. Whisk me away from these wretches, and you can be my new steed. What?"

The dragon was not the brightest of creatures and readily agreed. Sir Muxxy bounded onto its back. The dragon stretched its wings, taking off another few heads by mistake. He leaped into the air and headed straight for the rallying point to the north east. Being a dragon, his sense of direction was impeccable, and soon Satt-Navv was soaring over the Belgaer Sea to towards MiddleSteem.

* * *

What happened to Shane the Squelcher? Will Sir Muxxy ever get his breakfast? Why does the map of MiddleSteem look like MiddleEarth? Find out in the next thrilling episode of Sir Muxxy the Brave's tales.