Cupbearer of the Titans: Sir Lefallon's Run July 16 (10 Apr 2003) Sir Lefallon takes on the challenge of the Cupbearer of the Titans, as champion for Lord Eoin.

Somewhere in Ainigton, in the back yard of Harcourt Manor, there is an odd little path marked off with poles and yarn, a bucket of water at one end, and an empty bucket at the other. Along the way, there is a sawhorse blocking the path, then it widens - on one side, a border of the path is formed by a shed, with a ladder leaning against it ... whereas the area outside the ladder is apparently vulnerable to the reach of a grinning girl with a paper crown on her head that says, "MONSTER," and a pile of old cushions.

Beyond that, there is an obstacle course of open boxes and fallen tires, though a narrow path skirts around the side - again within reach of the "MONSTER" - then a straightaway to the empty bucket at the far end.

But this isn't there. No, this is elsewhere. Mists obscure the vision, then slowly part, to reveal the interior of a stone room roughly hewn out from cavern walls. A gargantuan keg is propped up against one wall, and shelves hold a multitude of mismatched chalices and goblets, some of them spilling out onto the floor.

An opening in one wall reveals a narrow tunnel beyond, and a huge hairy beast is sprawled across the floor; its tusks and snout and hooves suggest that it is an overgrown boar, but the spikes sticking out from its head and along its back suggest something more fearsome than a mere wild pig; with some care, it might be possible to leap over, without waking the thing. Beyond that, a narrow fissure can be seen leading into some narrower tunnel, while the wider path is crusted with frost - a hole to one side hints at the lair of a dreaded ice drake!

Beyond that, some rubble can be seen strewn about. There's a clear way to the right ... but it draws perilously close to a pool that churns as if something violent is lurking in its depths. Much further beyond, there is a light at the end of the tunnel - and the silhouette of a gargantuan hand clasping a chalice, holding it, as if waiting for it to be filled.

A disembodied voice comes from the still-parting mists, and a scrap of parchment is visible upon the cavern floor:

"Behold, on the Mountain of Monsters, the Titans are having a feast! But the Cupbearer has fallen ill; who shall fill the chalice of the King of the Titans, lest he become wroth, and create terrible storms in his fury? Lo, it is thee!

"Thou shalt fill the chalice of the Titan King with wine, but beware, the way to his side is full of peril, for there are many monsters about in the caverns. You must fill up your cup with wine, and carry it swiftly to the Titan King, and fill his goblet. But one trip will not be enough, for the chalice of a Titan is much larger than that of a mere man!

"Here is a map of the way, showing the perils you may face along the course. There are alternative paths to take, to avoid some of the monsters, but they each present their own risks, and may take thee more time. Safety or speed? That is thy choice at each juncture - and how fast wilt thou run?"

Sir Lefallon gulps. "This reminds me of something I've done before," he says, eyeing the start of the road that lies before him, and then the map, before he considers the goblets and which of them he can most easily carry, without carrying so little that it will take him forever. His brows furrow, half in memory, before he shakes himself and studies the map again.

The young knight settles on a plain clay goblet at last, and fills the keg. "No use just sitting and trying to reason this out," he mutters to himself. "I'm not going to fill the Titan's cup with thought, and the sorcerer did say that we'd better do our best." He sets out to pass the massive beast, choosing a careful walk at first.

As Sir Lefallon comes closer to the beast, holding his chalice brimful of wine, his heart beats faster in his chest. Step on over? he wonders to himself. Or go around, and risk its smelling me? He edges up to the horrendously snoring boar, and decides at the last to try tiptoeing over it.

The boar does not stir. Though it would have been easier, had he been longer of leg, at this slow of a pace, Sir Lefallon has no trouble making it over without disturbing the beast. Now, ahead, there is a narrow crevice to the left ... and a deceptively wider area to the right, though frost hints at the presence of something ... unusual to be found there.

The knight studies the map. The road to the right sounds dangerous, he muses to himself. "An ice drake? But it might be asleep ... or it might not be very fast." He turns his gaze toward the fissure, pondering whether it contains rocks or difficult passages, and then decides to err toward speed this time, jogging toward the ice drake's putative territory, keeping his eyes out for trouble.

There is a terrifying shriek, and then a white scaly head lurches out from a crack in the cavern wall! With nimble reflexes, Sir Lefallon avoids the brunt of the blast, but he is still put off balance while dodging, and loses some of the wine of his goblet ... though it looks to be at least half full yet.

Sir Lefallon wipes his forehead, pausing a moment to catch his breath. After that close encounter, he decides as he consults the map, "I don't think I want to have another brush with a beast! Looks like rubble this way, and..." He examines his goblet which remains only half full. "I'd better take it slower."

It's close, what with all the things seemingly trying their best to trip up his feet, but he doesn't spill a single drop of what wine remains. (And it might help that the wine is no longer to the brim.)

Seeing the rest of the road looks to be open, Sir Lefallon wipes sweat from his brow again, then picks up his pace, trying a jog up to the massive chalice.

For a frightening moment, it seems as if Sir Lefallon has stumbled ... but, no, he is too nimble for that, with as even a ground as this is. He spills not a drop. The massive chalice awaits him, without challenge.

Sir Lefallon stops at the top to catch his breath. "Close one!" he tells himself, before reaching out to pour the goblet into the Titan's chalice.

Once he's done so, the young knight gloomily sees how much there is left to fill. Without another word, he sets off to a run back down to the keg.

So, Sir Lefallon dashes back. In his wake, he hears a terrible splashing at the pool, and the roar of the ice wyrm. He slows down just to step over the slumbering beast, and then, he is back where he started. By his best judgement, it would take at least two more full chalices full of wine to fill that great goblet to its rim ... full chalices, that is.

Heaving a deep sigh, the young knight considers the map again. "Safe is best," he decides. "I'm not risking getting bitten by whatever it is that lives in that pool! And once smitten by the drake is once too many." He fills the goblet, then sets out again, carefully.

The young knight yelps as one of the spines scratches him, as the boar shifts. "I've got to be more careful," he mutters, though he was already being quite careful. He adjusts his armor and then sets off to the dark hole that he hadn't explored before.

It seems that, at least in this case, it pays to be short. He makes his way through the fissure. The darkness is somewhat alarming, as well as the closeness of space, but he succeeds in making it through without spilling even a drop.

Sir Lefallon makes a mental note upon the map. That's a sure route for the way forward at least. He glances toward the pool, considering his options, then sets off into the rubble again. Familiar territory.

And familiar it is. Still not a drop spilled. Now ... only the straightaway remains.

Emboldened by his success, Sir Lefallon picks up his pace and runs. Not a drop spilled so far! That's the way to do it, he thinks to himself.

Any faster, and he probably would have had a spectacular spill, but somehow, he manages to keep from splashing any but the most negligible of amounts. Into the large chalice goes the wine ... and the path back remains.

"Whew!" exclaims Sir Lefallon as the goblet seems about to splash out its precious cargo, but he manages to right himself in time to let it sploosh back in. He sets off to a run back, stopping to edge most gingerly past the spined boar. Filling the goblet again, he considers his options. One more trip and I'm done!... Unless I spill some. Then I'll have to do this again.

The young knight moves carefully toward the sleeping boar, which he has treated with great respect all this time. A thought stops him short. Redmane. Lord Eoin. For whom am I really taking this test? If I win for Lord Eoin ... am I doing what's right for him? The Rule has to be changed; it's what's keeping him what he is.

Sir Lefallon stares into the goblet as if hoping for an answer within the red reflections in the mirror-like surface of the wine. But ... the Sorcerer said champions have to try their best! Redmane... Tom... What would you do, in my position?

Simon, what are you worried about? Sir Lefallon thinks wryly as he imagines Tom's voice, familiarly confident. Do your best, we'll be fine. No dragon's gonna beat me in a battle of wits, and do you really think Lord Eoin can beat Angel in a test of spirit? He imagines Redmane's face too, if she thought that he were letting her win. And last of all is Lord Eoin's face. You were my friend once. Will you not stand for me now?

Sir Lefallon scowls to himself. I volunteered. I have to see this through. And he takes the step, leaping over the still-snoring beast.

Perfect! Not a drop. Who should be able to complain? Now, the fissure and the ice wyrm await....

The young knight sets off toward the fissure at a jog. Now familiar with its close confines, he has no fear that he will accidentally bump his head against some of the low-hanging stalactites.

Not a drop is spilled. This seems to be a trend.

Sir Lefallon grins as he steps out into the brighter light past the fissure. "Not so bad if I say so myself," he says appreciatively, seeing the light sparkle off its brimful surface. He pauses before the fork where he must confront the rubble and the pool, weighing his options, and settles at last on a fast walk, with cat-like agility, moving through the rubble, his hand cupped protectively over the top even though it would do little to stop the liquid from flowing should he take a misstep.

A stone turns under the knight's step, causing some of the red wine to splash out, but there's still over half left as he makes it across to the other side. So much for that trend!

Some of the trembling wasn't feigned, for Sir Lefallon wipes sweat away from his brow, then bends to clean pebbles off his shoes. He sets up the straightaway, running. I'm going to have to make another trip, he thinks to himself.

And so he makes it to the end! All that remains, surely, is to pour in the wine.

Sir Lefallon pours the wine in, watching the level rise. If I was wrong and it's more full than I thought, I could be done right now. Was I wrong?...

The wine pours in. But then ... he notices something. He has filled the large chalice, which is large enough to hold the contents of three of his goblets, with three trips' worth ... except that he spilled a bit before. The chalice is not quite full yet.

Sir Lefallon shakes his head, gives a sigh of relief, and then sets off to try the round again, running past the monsters.

His way back is devoid of any trouble ... until he trips over the beast. "RAWRGH!" the beast howls. Sir Lefallon falls flat on his face. The beast yelps and runs off.

Yelping and picking himself up, Sir Lefallon ascertains his wounds-- luckily, he doesn't seem to be any more than scratched! "Well, that was one beast that was more scared of me than I was of it!" he concludes. "Boy, if I'd known that to start with..." Then I'd have been making much, much better time, is the unsaid thought that finishes that along with a silent disquiet.

The young knight fills his chalice with wine once again, and this time sets off at a run past the former location of the spined boar, before taking once again, the safe route past the fissure and the rubble. "Careful does it," he mutters.

There's a bit of concern near the rubble ... but he doesn't spill even a drop. Now, all that remains is the straightaway.

Running up the straightaway, Sir Lefallon steels himself once again to face the conclusion of his trial. With so much wine left, there is no doubt that it will be completed this time ... unless the Titan King chooses to drink some in the meantime, of course!

He makes it ... and he has more than enough to fill that goblet at the end.

Sir Lefallon stands at the end of the trial, hesitant. Could I fumble?... No. I have to be fair. It would be wrong to deliberately throw this contest. He slowly and deliberately upends the goblet into the Titan King's chalice, looking up and around for what might come. Fear mixes with resignation upon his face.

"About time," comes a rumbling voice, and then the goblet is lifted away, and the Titan consumes the contents in a single draught. The mists close in, and the young knight's surroundings grow less distinct....

"Toast Mirari with it," Sir Lefallon says as his parting words, even though he is no longer sure if the Titan King can hear him. "Whether it's in memoriam or celebration, let it be remembered well."

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