Remain Ethelid

After the excitement of the centaur sighting, new life and fervor ignites the army. You meet with your generals to discuss your plans going forward, but conclude that this encounter changes very little.

Currently, the army is set to march at a leisurely pace. It is accompanied by a large civilian caravan that cannot move quickly, and the distance you must travel is quite far. The consensus among the Alliance leadership is that it is not necessary to fatigue the army with a rapid march. In fact, the passage of time may be your ally. No doubt the loss of their women would shake them deeply, and even these savages would understand that this meant their doom. Perhaps, after several months of travel you will arrive to find nothing but irregular, discouraged bands, to be dispatched with ease.

You spend much of the day in meetings, or inspecting the camp. As dusk begins to fall, you again seek out your wife. You make your way toward the tent of Duke Lloegr, as you know the Duchess is close friends with Athena. As you approach the tent under the cover of darkness, you hear two women conversing inside. You had planned to march right in, but the topic of their conversation piques your interest, and you begin to eavesdrop.

"Did you really see, Tatiana?" coos your wife.

"I'm telling you, they were enormous. They really are savages. The penis must have been two feet long!" replies the Duchess, "It was dreadfully terrifying, and a little exciting.

"Hahaha, incredible! How beastly," says your wife, and they both laugh.

As the laughter dies down, the women are silent for several seconds, and you almost start to move again when your wife begins to speak, more softly now.

"You know, I know elven men have the most beautiful penises of all, but sometimes I wonder if they are perhaps too small..." she says.

"What do you mean?"

"My husband, he is so small. His penis when erect is not more than two inches. Obviously this is the ideal of beauty and male perfection! But when he tries to make love to me, he cannot. He is so small now that he cannot even penetrate me and fertilize me. In the past he was sometimes able to do so, but I really felt almost nothing. Now I cannot tell at all," she says wistfully.

"I understand," says Tatiana, "It is much the same with the Duke. It's gotten so much worse lately. I must admit, I was fascinated by those creatures when I saw them. So ugly and bestial, so savage... Yet I couldn't shake the thought of how rough and powerful they must be."

"Yes," says your wife, "It almost makes you wish they would take you. I feel like that's true masculinity. Making love to them would feel like being conquered. Like being a true woman."

"Exactly."

"Of course," says your wife giggling, "We mustn't let the men know. You know how proud they are of their masculinity, and their tiny penises. It would wound them greatly."

She sighs, "I suppose it is our lot in life to be happy with their feeble ministrations. It's not so great a sacrifice."

After this, the conversation moves to other topics. You are deeply shaken, and you feel like you've suffered a blow to the head and a punch to the gut. You stand there, trying desperately to center yourself and regain your composure. You wait a safe period of time, then enter the tent as if nothing has happened.

The women happily greet you, showing no evidence of their previous conversation. You put on a brave face.

"Hello my dear, I have come to collect you for the evening," you say.

"Ah! My lord! I still have so much to discuss with the Duchess, you know how we carry on. And I have so many errands," she says, "Why don't you go to bed on your own? After all, you need to sleep and freshness far more than I! Perhaps I will join you later."

You hold back tears.

"Of course my love. Speak as long as you like."

You almost run back to your tent, moving as quickly as possible and not looking at anything around you.

As soon as you get to your tent, you rush inside and run over to your bed, then burst into tears. You sob for what feels like hours, only stopping to listen, hoping your wife will return to your tent, but she does not.

In your head you curse her, then curse yourself, then curse her again, crying the whole time. Finally, snivelling, you drift off to sleep.