It was a frigid night at Rockland Palace. The wind blew hard, and
howled out of the night, as the rain beat down on Sir. Morgan as he stood
outside the castle walls. He had just returned with the news from King Crenshaw.
Suddenly from the dark of the night came Threshmite, the great enemy of man.
The description of the beast given by the churl , who stood witness to Sir
Morgan’s dismemberment, was that of a giant, man eating firs snorting, three
headed savage warthog gargoyle. As the lightening flashed, and the thunder
clapped, the it reared it’s center head up, and gave a fell glare into the
eyes of the helpless peasant, who was frozen in a horrified Position.
It took nearly five hours, and the help of the resident magician to get
that out of him. He is as skittish as a hind , afraid to venture out of the
castle walls, or even let down the drawbridge, for fear of becoming Threashmis’
next meal. King Lenson grieved deeply over his departed friend. He then asked
for volunteers to hunt down the scatheful beast. The reaction to his request
was pathetic, not a man stood. It seemed as though King Lenson’s valiant
knights were nothing more than a flock of recreants. At last Sir. Baldric
stepped forward, he had risen to the occasion, proving true to his troth. He
was truly a stalwart knight.
Early the next morning Baldric awakened, in preparation for his
endeavor. He dressed himself with care, methodically arranging his raiment. As
he pulled his hauberk over his head, and sweeping shoulders the lady of the
castle mad her way gently into the room. She helped him finish dressing, and
when he went to leave the room she made a tryst between herself and Sir
Baldric. They would meet in the church before he left. She softly kissed his
cheek, and departed. He went to the arms room, and took down his sword from
it’s place on the wall. It shone bright in the morning bask. It was whet after
every use and now ready for action. He saddled his horse, and went to go meet
with lady Lenson in the church. He found her in the last pew, dolorous and
weeping. She begged him not to go, so he pledged his mission in her honor. He
was bound by heart, and soul to seek and destroy Threshmiter. The king sent
him out on his way, and told Sir Baldric he would return victorious. So he rode
across the grassy knolls into the black forest.
He crossed the deep crags of Keystone, and the red river of evil.
Through the valley of death, and beyond. All the way braving the wolves, trolls,
bears, and all of the other savage creatures across the countryside. Alas in
mid January he came across some fewments, (Droppings of the beast pursued),
and knew he was near Treshmit. He began to set up camp, and while doing this he
began to think about home. He thought how he missed his warm feather bed, the
merry evensongs he sang around the fire with his friends, and most of all he
missed Lady Lenson. He was tired of stetting up camp every night in a new place,
building the palisade, and waking with the sun covered with hoarfrost. He was
nearing the end of his journey, an would be home soon, but for now he must rest.
He slept lightly, and awoke early, broke down camp, and headed out. He
came across a great cave, and upon hearing the snorting, and smacking he knew
it was in the middle of a meal. Sir. Baldric sunk up from behind the monster,
and out on a slight overhang above Threshmit. He gathered his thoughts, grasped
the helve of his sword, and came down in the center of the beast’s neck,
severing it’s spinal column. He then took the haft of his dagger and ripped
open the leathery skin of the beast’s throat, sending a bath of blood through
the cave. He had fell Threshmit, and completed his mission, never sundering
from the task at hand. Baldric took out the beast’s heart as proof of his
success, and headed for home.
His journey home took nearly three weeks, but upon his arrival at
Rockland he was greeted warmly by all. They all gave boon to him, and there
was a gathering of the citizens of Rockland in Sir. Baldric’s honor. The King,
and his knights were seated on the dais, Baldric in the seat of honor. He was
declared by the King as the noblest knight of the court, and given a red silk
girdle as a symbol of his courage. He thanked them all, and while the men made
merry, and drank, he slipped away with Lady Lenson into his feather bed.