Simon's Quest
(18 Oct 2001) Tom fetches "Sir Lefallon" to take him on a quest for the Holy Grail.
(Agatha) (The Trials of Anwynn) (Baum Woods) (Simon)
(Tom)

The sky is dotted with a scattering of clouds, though they thicken closer to the horizon -- It may well rain today, and perhaps even a storm may blow in. It's not ideal weather for going outside, but it does carry something of an aura of adventure, for those creatively inclined to interpret it as such.

A young boy sits on his bed as he makes a "chain mail helmet" -- in this case, a sheet of gray cloth being glued to the back of a nondescript baseball cap, with the brim removed and an insert of cardboard added to make the nose-guard. A corrugated cardboard kite shield with the device of a brown rabbit on a field of orange lies next to a wooden gladius on the side of his bed, where just enough room exists to get out of bed and walk into the hallway. The walls are plaster and starting to crumble; they could stand a new paint job.

A shadow flicks across the window of Simon's room. Moments later, a soft rapping is heard coming from the window frame.

Simon jumps. "Who's--" He hushes, realizing quickly that it's a visitor at the window, and that means someone he'd rather his uncle not know about. The younger boy leans over to the window.

Outside, a boy clothed in a black tee-shirt and dark jeans is leaning against the side of the house, arms crossed. He looks up and glances toward the window, green eyes peering through unkempt locks of black hair. Thomas grins slightly and waves his fingers upward a bit and mouths, "Open the window."

Simon sets the cap on the bed, then looks over his shoulder before trying to open the window as soundlessly as possible.

creak shoonk Hopefully the noise caused by this was larger in Simon's imagination than in reality. In any case, there's no sign of any stirring of his uncle ... yet.

Thomas' eyebrow arches slightly, amused. "You really don't want your uncle to know of anyone coming by, do you?" he whispers as the window opens.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," Simon whispers back. "He's getting suspicious that I'm hanging around with some kind of gang or something." The younger boy shakes his head.

"Well, aren't you?" Tom replies softly, grinning. "Anyway, I'm the Angel of Death, here for your soul," Tom says, then pauses. "No, wait, that's next week. Today I'm here to summon you. Your trials as a knight are to begin. Hope you're ready."

Simon swallows. "Yessir, uh..." He leans out the window toward Tom. "Is it true you resigned? I heard about it and I was going to go over and ask you about it..."

"In a sense, yeah. I've withdrawn from the rest of the group. I'm rather irritated with all of them right now. I'm trying to avoid them, but I did promise that I'd help with this quest, so I have to be around for it. I've just got to avoid Agatha, I think. You know how she gets," responds Thomas with a sigh. "-- Which reminds me, I'm going out on a camping trip by myself soon out near my tree fort. You're welcome to tag along, since I know you don't like being here."

Simon smiles. "I'd like that. I'll see if I can talk my uncle into letting me go out then." The younger boy tries to think of an excuse that would fly. "Uhh-- sleeping over at a friend's place. That's it." He grins and then takes up a gray wool sweater to serve as "chain mail".

Thomas shrugs, then pushes off the wall. "Yeah, you would technically, anyway. The fort is my place."

"Is there anything I should know before we get started, Tom?" the young "knight" asks.

Tom pauses thoughtfully. "Hmm, what to tell you ... nothing I could probably say that wouldn't give things away. Oh, we do have another sword you can use. It's more designed to hold up to combat. Plus, it's padded," he says.

"Ah! Okay." Simon dons the gray sweater, which reaches down to mid-thigh and is rather too large on him. He pulls the sleeves back, puts on the cap, and picks up his shield.

Sir Lefallon says, indefinably more possessed of himself than Simon, "I have heard that your travels have brought tidings of the Holy Grail, Explorer. Though you and Her Highness have had difficulties, still I trust your inner goodness of being, and I pray every day that God will bring us all back together. Lead on, and I shall follow."

"Indeed. I've heard rumors that a bandit in the far woods has knowledge that may help locate the Grail," Thomas replies. "-- And please, I surrendered that title. I am just Thomas now. My feud is not with her Highness, but the Oracle. She insulted myself and my family, and I cannot work with them under such conditions." He shakes his head slightly, "Anyway, the bandit has been sighted a short trek from here and I believe your skills can find justice, as well as clues. I will guide you to the last known location."

"Perhaps I should speak on your behalf to the Oracle," Sir Lefallon volunteers. He clambers through the window, pausing partway through to snag a pair of leather gloves. "I may be new at court, but perhaps a gentle voice may find a way to ease tensions. And your boldness is surely much missed by Her Highness and the Lady Redmane."

"They don't understand," Thomas mutters softly. "It has nothing to do with feeling that others are not skilled. It has nothing to do with arrogance." The raven-haired traveler turns to look at Sir Lefallon. "In all battles, those in charge are ultimately responsible for the lives of those they lead. Can you imagine how it feels to know should something happen to one of those you lead, you have to face their families? To know that ultimately, you will be blamed for it, even if it was unavoidable?" He waves a hand and says, "It's how I was raised, how I was taught. To never take a position of leadership lightly. She belittled everything I was taught."

Sir Lefallon says softly as he half-closes the window behind him, "Milord-- Thomas... I am sure the Lady Oracle did not intend to insult your grave responsibility. Harsh words are often spoken in the heat of anger that one wishes one could take back later." He grins wryly, slipping gloves on, then taking his shield up again. "Have you never said anything to the Oracle that she might take amiss?"

Thomas huffs softly and says, "Not to the same extent. Or have you forgotten about the deception on her part? Regardless, what is done is done." He turns and looks skyward, then says curtly, "We should be going."

The knight nods. "Aye, my friend. Courtly matters happen in their own time, and we should seek out this bandit of yours before he eludes us."

"She," Thomas replies, and begins walking. "Weather permitting, we should be there in no time at all."

"She?" Sir Lefallon pauses. "I pray it will not come to a fight then, should your bandit prove unwilling to share her information with us; it would seem less than chivalric to draw sword on a lady."

"But those I have heard of who are called bandits are rarely so cooperative," the knight adds with misgiving evident on his face.

"I am afraid it will likely come to a fight," Thomas replies, glancing back. "She is wanted in many kingdoms and isn't likely to just surrender. Just because the bandit is a woman does not mean your duty as a knight to capture or vanquish her are removed. Consider that, and let's get moving. Time is short."


The ex-Lord-Explorer Thomas has led Sir Lefallon past many hazards, seen and unseen, at last taking him to the dreaded Dark Forest, where it is said that the Bandit Queen and her band of cutthroats lurks, preying upon unwary travelers unwise enough to venture too close to her domain -- or poor enough to have no choice in the matter. The relative silence of the trek through the woods so far is broken, however, by a panicked scream for help that echoes through the timbers.

"Help! Help! Help!" comes the woman's shrill voice. "The Bandit Queen is after me, to sell me into slavery and feed me to her wolf!" comes a pitiful cry. "Oh help!"

"Come back here!" cries out a menacing voice only barely recognizable as feminine. "You're more trouble than the pig you replaced would have been!"

"Someone's in distress!" Sir Lefallon shouts as he looks around for the source of the call. He breaks into a run, sword out and ready.

A flash of movement is visible in the trees up ahead -- a plain young maiden in a patched and grass-stained dress, with the remnants of a crude crown of wildflowers coming loose from where it was once braided into her hair. There is the tell-tale growl of something large and feral -- a wolf, perhaps? -- but the origin of that noise cannot be easily discerned.

Thomas continues on, slow and steady with his eyes on Sir Lefallon as he dashes off. "Heh, now I know what I must look like at times," he mutters, then calls out, "Take care, Sir Lefallon, are you so ready to rush lead long into danger? Be wary of trip lines! Bandits often trap the roads."

The maiden stumbles and falls, more dirt staining her dress and marking her face. Broken twigs and thistles dangle from her disheveled hair, as she weeps bitterly, vainly trying to pull herself back up to her feet, even as her pursuer gains on her.

Sir Lefallon pauses a second at the Explorer's words. "Then we must try them from a road they do not expect!" He looks around quickly for an alternate path that seems less obvious than the straightaway.

"Hah!" crows a giant figure clad in black and red which bursts out from between two trees, it's face hidden by a mask. "None ever escape my grasp, waif! Your father should have remembered that, instead of giving his best boar to his Lord!"

The maid cries out. "Will no one deliver me from this horrible fate? Help! Oh, please, help!"

Thomas motions to the side of the road and says, "Just run off the side, in the brush. The brush is fairly light here and should avoid most possible traps." He then adds, "And I am honor-bound to not be involved in this. Even though the lady's life may be in danger, I cannot interrupt. My word holds me back. However, if you should fall in battle, I will do my best to protect her." Thomas then follows suit ands slips off to the side of the road, becoming obscured in the shadows of the trees.

Following the explorer's words, Sir Lefallon says, "Understood, Thomas. I thank you for the help you have already given; now it is a knight's place to go before danger!" He dashes along the direction pointed out, hoping there is enough time.

Thomas's advice proves true enough, as Sir Lefallon manages to navigate his way round about. As he comes around, he spies the notorious Bandit Queen standing victoriously over her victim, roughly rousting her off the ground, while a menacing wolf lurks in the shadows, giving a warning growl at Sir Lefallon's approach.

"Bandit Queen! Unhand the maiden," the knight calls out as he rushes into the clearing. He brandishes his sword nervously. Now is not the time to accidentally spit the very maiden he is attempting to rescue.

The Bandit Queen pauses to scan the trees, demanding, "Who dares approach?"

"A hero!" the maid calls out. "Please, save me!"

"It is I, Sir Lefallon of Mirari! Will you face me in honorable combat, for the fate of this maiden?" the young knight says, drawing closer.

The bandit just stares for a moment, then barks in laughter. "Honorable combat? Over a swineherd's daughter?"

"Swineherd's daughter or princess, all are entitled to justice and the protection of Mirari's champions," Sir Lefallon declares. He glances to where the wolf must be lurking, then back to the bandit queen. "If you desire to feed your wolf, choose other prey!"

"Oh, and so now you give me orders?" the Bandit Queen growls, letting go of the girl and drawing her own sword. "I didn't think knights were so foolish to throw their lives away over peasants. Leave now, and I'll let you keep your valuables!"

"What has more value than life?" Sir Lefallon moves in closer, cautiously.

The peasant girl lets out a muffled "oof!" as she falls like a rag-doll to the ground, then looks up with frightened eyes to the Bandit Queen, and tries to shuffle to the side of the path while her gaze is averted. A warning growl from the wolf, however, keeps her from straying too far.

Grinning, the bandit says, "Exactly! This girl will sell well on the slave market!" The large woman seems to be sizing up the knight before making any move, however. "I'm feeling generous, so I'll give you one more chance to walk away from this. I'll even throw in a map of the forest, so that you might even escape my men."

"Fodder for human wolves is scarcely better than fodder for real wolves," the knight retorts as he whips his sword around, moving to try and get between the maiden and the bandit queen. "In either case, I'll not surrender the life of an innocent to bandits!"

The peasant maid sighs dreamily at the young knight who has come to her aid, momentarily forgetting the peril she is still in.

"So you mean to kill me then?" the Queen taunts, starting to circle around for a better position to attack from. "And follow her back to the pig-farm to watch over her for all her days?"

The peasant maid nods encouragingly, smiling at the notion.

"Every battle's fought one day at a time," the knight says as he holds his place. "Today, I may rescue a maiden; tomorrow, the knights of Mirari may sweep down to cleanse these woods. Ask yourself rather, is one maiden worth the risk of your own death, Bandit Queen?"

The woman frowns beneath her bandit's mask. "If I let her go, then the peasants will start thinking they deserve protection from me. And as for my life ... well, it's not mine that's at risk," she says, and gestures to the girl with her sword. "It would be easier for me to slay her now, and save myself the worry. What then could you do, Knight?"

The maid gulps, suddenly remembering her situation, and no doubt weighing her chances between the Bandit Queen ... or that wolf. So far, the scales don't seem to be tipped enough for her to hazard a dash into the woods ... or else she's simply frozen in place by fear.

"Slay you then, for the wolf that's supped once on the King's flock will come back again," the knight retorts. "Maiden, stay you behind me, and call out warning if you see others of the Bandit Queen approach."

The Queen suddenly stands up straight, and wears a shocked expression. "You'd kill a woman?!" she says, sounding incredulous.

Needing no further encouragement, the maid clambers to her feet, half tripping, half dashing on her way around to cower behind the brave warrior. "Oh, do be careful!" she warns him. "Never a faster blade have I seen held by man nor woman!"

"Place yourself outside King's law and the bounds of chivalry, and their protection will not reach to you," the knight says grimly. "You cannot have both chivalry and malice."

Sir Lefallon whispers to the peasant girl, "Should we battle and it seems I am about to fall ... run! Thomas of the Golden Hawks is in the woods, and he will protect you, though he's bound by oath not to come against the Bandit Queen."

The frightened maid nods hastily, though she clings to Sir Lefallon's tabard tightly -- a situation that simply will not do, if he is to engage in battle.

"Principled fool," the Queen says, and lunges with her sword as she sees the knight's handicap.

The knight swings his own sword up to block it, backing up a bit. "Careful, milady!" he calls to the maiden, trying to, by his own retreat, cause her to back up and give him some room.

The two blades crash with a loud ring. The maid stumbles to the ground with Sir Lefallon's retreat, then gets up to her feet and dashes for the edge of the path -- once again herded in by growling from the unseen wolf, rather than dashing off to freedom in the confusion.

"You can't win! Surrender!" the Queen snarls, pressing her attack. "You wouldn't be the first to make a bargain with me for safe passage!"

Sir Lefallon opts to play the cautious game, hoping that the Bandit Queen will tire herself out with mighty strikes, backing now and then, parrying other times. "A bargain to last until you tire of it and decide your share of trade should be the greater? One deals not with those without principles, lest one find oneself ... eaten without notice!"

The clash of steel against steel, the slicing of blades through air, the crack of twigs and fallen leaves underfoot, scuffing of boots on patches of dirt, and the low growling of a beast in the woods fill the air, a backdrop against which the swordsman and swordswoman exchange their goads and retorts.

The Queen breaks off, and steps back a few paces to glare at the Knight, whose defenses are better than she first hoped. "Surely, you must be on some errand of import -- certainly of more importance than some peasant or group of bandits. If it's tribute you want," she says, and jangles her coin pouch suggestively, "then I'm sure something suitable can be arranged."

The knight huffs for breath as he considers, sword still brandished. "I desire three things of you, Bandit Queen. Swear in God's name that you'll give them and you may go in peace. Otherwise..." In a breath of ferociousness, he vows, "I'll feed you to your own wolf!"

The maid gasps in horror at the knight's dreadful vow (even if she would be better off for the deed).

Frowning, the Queen nonetheless says, "State them, Knight."

"Firstly, you must quit your claims on the maiden's family and her life. Whatever bargain you have made, it is annulled," Sir Lefallon says.

The bandit's expression is hard to read beneath the mask as she grimly asks, "What else?"

"Secondly, I am indeed in search of..." Sir Lefallon pauses, considering the import of his quest. "Secondly, you must quit your life of banditry. Go forth from Mirari, and strive to live by God's law and by King's law of whatever country you find yourself in."

The young knight tightens his grip on his sword, suspecting the Bandit Queen will rebel at this term.

The Queen's grip on her sword tightens enough to cause the leather of her glove to crackle. "And what more beyond that would you demand?"

"And thirdly, an' you have hopes of gaining Heaven, I would ask that you give unto me what information you have concerning the Sangrael, the Holy Grail." Sir Lefallon frowns. "Give o'er the first two and you may go; give the last as well and I will bless you in my prayers." Raising his sword, he asks, "What say you, Bandit Queen?"

"The Holy what?" the Queen asks in seeming confusion, then leaps forward, swinging her blade in a flat arc, aiming to decapitate the knight!

Sir Lefallon grins tightly. Wolves are not driven so easily from a diet of sheep. He dives under the sweeping blade and runs by the Bandit Queen, chopping at the back of her legs to lame her.

The maid cries out, somewhat late for the purpose, "'Ware, brave knight!"

"Aauugh!" the Queen cries out, dropping her sword as her leg buckles under her.

The young knight runs back to kick the sword away, not being one to trust that the Bandit Queen wouldn't fight even at such a disadvantage ... and then shows his teeth as he smiles. "Now I wonder who will feed your wolf, Bandit Queen?"

Soft clapping echoes in the forest as Thomas emerges from the shadows. "Good show of swordsmanship, my friend. Now, will you strike down the bandit completely? After all, she is just a bandit, and surely deserves such justice for all the terror she has instilled," Thomas says, then leans against a nearby tree.

The Queen spreads her hands to show that she is unarmed, and cries, "Mercy, Sir Knight!"

"Stay your hand, Thomas," Sir Lefallon declares. "Bandit Queen, you have heard the terms I have offered. Will you take them?"

The maid gasps, covering her mouth with a dirty sleeve as she takes in the tense scene.

"Of course. As I said, I am oath bound to not touch her," replies the raven-haired man.

Sir Lefallon smiles wryly. "Someday, you must tell me the tale of how that came to be, Thomas."

The Queen bows her head and grits her teeth. "I ... cannot! I will not give up all that I've built here, and go back to being just another peasant!"

The maid lets out another gasp at this.

Sir Lefallon looks down at the fallen Queen pitilessly. "Then you may rise to feeding your wolf ... yourself. Fare well, Bandit Queen. Thomas! Does your oath extend to the Bandit-Queen's men as well, or shall we chase them away from here?"

"I have a map!" the Queen offers. "It can be yours, and gold as well, if you spare me! At least help me into a tree until my men find me!"

A hungry growl echoes from the shadows of the trees.

"You have heard my terms," Sir Lefallon says flatly. He reaches down to pick up the Queen's sword, and offers it to the resigned Explorer.

The maid looks incredulously at the doomed Bandit Queen.

"Of course I'll meet them!" the former bandit-Queen wails. "I have no choice! Once the peasants hear that I am lamed, they will rise up and hunt me down if I do not leave!"

"You will not strike her down, then?" Thomas asks, a look of surprise on his face, "Yet you will leave her life to the wolves? Her life is in your hands, my friend. As for her men, they would be difficult to track here. I fear we would need more than just us to find them all." Thomas accepts the blade carefully, then rests it point down into the ground. His green eyes affix on Sir Lefallon.

The knight turns slowly toward the masked woman, having given the sword to Thomas. "Swear. Swear by God, that he will blast you down if you do not abide by your word."

"I know nothing of the Holy Grail, save that it is not to be found within my domain," the Queen offers. "I swear! I swear by God!" she says, and offers up the map and a bag of gold.

"Swear also that you relinquish all claims on this maiden and her family, and that you will give up banditry and live by God's and King's law," Sir Lefallon says firmly, making no move to take up the map.

"Of course!" the bandit wails. "Please, I must be gone by the time she returns to her home!"

Sir Lefallon looks to Thomas, wordlessly inquiring his friend's opinion on the bandit's oath.

Despite her rescue, the maid looks terribly troubled, and clenches her teeth, still covering her mouth with her dirty sleeves.

Thomas raises up his hand and looks away, saying, "This is your decision to make, Sir Lefallon. Simply think to your training: what should a knight do here? You have a fallen foe, who is well known for villainy. Do you strike? Or walk? Or do you show mercy?"

Sir Lefallon nods, then turns back to the fallen woman. "I choose to show you my mercy, Bandit Queen. You will come with us to the castle where your legs will be tended to until you are well enough to go in peace. In the meantime, I will raise my fellow knights and we will roust your men from these forests, giving each the same question." He grins again. "After all, now that you have recanted your ways, milady, we can hardly have you falling into bad company again, can we?"

"And as for you, fair maiden..." Sir Lefallon bows toward the maiden. "I will personally escort you to your home. What gold the Bandit Queen had shall be yours as recompense for the suffering you have felt at her hands."

"So you're not going to feed her to the wolves, then!" the maid cries out. She rushes up suddenly, throwing her arms around the knight, and gives him a big kiss -- on the cheek, that is -- and a tight squeeze.

Sir Lefallon makes a bewildered noise, flailing a bit, then grins. "No, that was just to make her think twice," he whispers, blushing.

"The Lord of the Castle may not be as merciful," the masked woman sighs in resignation.

The raven-haired traveler nods in approval and smiles. "Well shown then, Sir Lefallon," he says, then looks to the Bandit Queen and adds, "He should abide by the request of one of his knights to show mercy. Do not fear. I will also request that you be spared."

Pulling off her mask, the former bandit looks to the Explorer, and says, "I didn't think you still cared, Thomas."

The young knight chuckles, and then whispers to Thomas, "Nay, I suspect the worst that may happen is that she be asked to watch over the same sheep that she depredated so cruelly before. Her Highness, the Princess Angel, is a kind and merciful soul -- perhaps too kind at times." Louder, he says, "And thank you for the map as well, Lady Bandit. I will ask for blessings on your name for this. Very well, Thomas, shall we be on our way?"

"I am simply a guide for Sir Lefallon. If he wishes you spared, I will also follow that wish," Thomas replies expressionlessly. "I travel. I don't interfere." He shrugs and adds, "... and besides, that was a long time ago."

There is a rustling in the bushes, as the wolf treads slowly forward ... and then nuzzles the Bandit Queen.

Sir Lefallon puts his sword back over his shoulder and folds the map away before helping Thomas with the Bandit Queen. "Let's be on our way then. Ah, milady," he says, smiling to the maiden. "I fear in the confusion, I have not been granted the honor of your name." Noticing the wolf, he chuckles and adds in a low tone to Thomas, "I wonder if we won't have an addition to the castle's menagerie."

"Maeve," the maid says brightly, taking the knight's arm, whether it's offered or not. "Thank you so much for rescuing me!"

"Behave, Thomas," the Bandit Queen commands the wolf -- an odd name for a wolf, one might suppose.

Thomas chuckles softly and replies, "Well, there is room, after all. My old room is, of course, available." He casts a glance at the Bandit Queen, but just shakes his head.


The trip to the castle proved largely uneventful, free of any ambushes by further bandits along the way. The map, it turns out, shows a path for Sir Lefallon to continue, safely avoiding several great hazards along the way, and leading him to the ruins of an ancient castle, pre-dating perhaps even the Kingdom of Mirari.

... and now, past the castle, Sir Lefallon continues his quest, parted from the former Lord Explorer Thomas for the time being.

"Now's when I could use my old friend's help," Sir Lefallon says to himself as he eyes the bridge with misgiving evident on his young face. He considers the bridge, and adds, "... especially with the rope that he carries. Well, no matter." Unslinging his shield, he hangs it on his back over his shield, and braces himself to attempt the traverse.

A flash of silver appears in the woods again -- that wolf, which seems to be leading the way for Sir Lefallon, strangely enough ... bringing him to these ruins just as surely as the map does.

The young knight watches the wolf. "Interesting that it's named Thomas as well. Perhaps it too is an explorer." He waits a moment to see if it assays the crossing, or knows of a better route.

A pile of tattered cloth laying near the roadside shifts some, then rises up slowly. The figure coughs and stumbles forward, his dull eyes visible underneath a ragged hood. "Eh, what's that? Is someone there?" his creaky voice asks, the figure looking around, seemingly dazed.

"Ah? Who are you, in this place forgotten by time?" asks Sir Lefallon.

"Eh, sonny? You'll have to speak up. Time has not been kind to these old ears," says the man in the tattered clothes, to the nearest tree. Apparently, it's not been kind to his eyesight either.

Sir Lefallon moves closer. "Who are you?" he says, louder.

The old man stumbles, looking stunned. Finally, he seems to actually see Sir Lefallon and replies, "Ah, there you are, my boy." He squints and says, "You're dressed as a knight, I think. Awfully short for a knight, aren't you? Why, back in my day, knights were ten feet tall and as wide as a barn. They'd gnaw off their own arm if it got infected. That reminds me; would you like to hear a story about the knight who ended up being nicknamed 'Lefty'?"

"It sounds as if the knights of your days must have been rather hardened souls," Sir Lefallon says cheerily. "I am Sir Lefallon, and who are you, good sir?"

The old man huffs and straightens up, trying to look fierce. "Gooser? Gooser? Why, sonny, I'll have you know I've never treated a young lady that way. If I were younger, I'd give you what for!" the old man says loudly, then breaks into a fit of coughing.

The young knight considers this. "My apologies if I misspoke," he says, slowing down and speaking as clearly as possible. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

The old man sticks out his hand and replies, "How am I doing? I'm doing just fine, thanks. Nice of you to ask. How are you?" He pauses, then wheezes, "You know, sonny, you should ask a man his name before you ask how he is. Anyway, I'm Nicodemus."

"Good day, Nicodemus," Sir Lefallon says, shaking the hand. "I am well enough."

Nicodemus peers at Sir Lefallon and asks, "Do you have any cookies?"

"I'm afraid not," Sir Lefallon says, still speaking as clearly as possible. "If you hunger, perhaps we may find you food somewhere." He points toward the ruins. "Does anyone live there?"

"No cookies? Thought maybe you were a junior knight. They go around selling cookies all the time to raise money to buy armor. I remember knights always being huge. Are you trying to say you're a real knight? Would you like to hear a story about Lefty? He was an old friend of mine," the old man inquires, then feebly turns to look at the ruins Sir Lefallon points to. "That's my home, sonny boy, why do you ask?" The old man takes a step back and starts to roll up his sleeves. "If you're here because you think you can take away my home, I'll give you what for!"

"I thought perhaps people lived there, from whom I could buy food, so that you could eat," the knight says in a soothing tone of voice.

Sir Lefallon continues, hoping to distract the old man, "Did you have a story about Lefty?"

Nicodemus seems to calm down, apparently fully understanding Sir Lefallon that time. "Oh, well, I don't have much food, but I make a wonderful slug stew. Lots of slugs in my place, yes. It wasn't what it used to be." His eyes seem to brighten at the mention of Lefty. "Oh, do you know Lefty, too? How is he?"

"I don't know him, but weren't you going to tell me a story about him?" Sir Lefallon suggests to Nicodemus.

"Oh," Nicodemus replies, shoulders slumping, "Haven't heard from Lefty in years now. Was hoping he was still alive. He wasn't always called Lefty, you know. Used to be a great knight. Yes, very great knight, indeed. No one was stronger than he was. Could lift a man in full armor with either arm. Pity he never fully learned all the teachings of knighthood; cost him dearly one day. Poor Lefty. ... Are you sure you don't have any cookies?"

Sir Lefallon makes a show of patting down his armor. "Not at the moment. Perhaps I could return to the nearest village and find some...." He pauses, realizing what the old man had said. "What happened to poor Lefty, Nicodemus?"

"Some bread, then?" inquires the old man hopefully, "I don't mind if it's moldy." Nicodemus then slowly kneels down and retrieves a gnarly staff from the ground and leans heavily on it. "Never learned one of the most important virtues for a knight, never," mutters the old man. "Cost him dearly, indeed."

"Well, if you come with me, I'll take you to the nearby village and we can buy you something there," Sir Lefallon says. He eyes the staff warily. Something about this encounter doesn't seem quite right. Perhaps the old man is more than he seems.

"No towns for miles, Sonny. None at all," the old man mutters. Slowly, Nicodemus reaches up and scratches his chin and asks, "Was I telling you about Lefty? Don't remember, guess time has taken that too. It eats at you, time does. Slowly strips you of everything you once were."

"You were just about to tell me what had happened to Lefty," Sir Lefallon prompts.

"Lost his right arm, he did," Nicodemus says. "S'why we called him Lefty. Was terrible what happened, so terrible." Moving slowly, the old man steps away from Sir Lefallon and looks out over the land. Slowly and softly, he says, "Impatient boy, he was. Never could wait. Always rushed ahead. Had no time to listen, no time to learn from those who had gone before."

"That's terrible!" Sir Lefallon says. "How did it happen?"

The old man chuckles softly and hangs his head. "Didn't stop to listen to an old man. Didn't have the time to wait for an old man to tell his tales, or he'd have known of the trap surrounding the emerald bow he sought," the old man says slowly, voice shifting from a rasp to a stronger, deeper tone. The old man turns toward Sir Lefallon, his eyes not as dull as they seemed before. "Time is an enemy to all of us, Sir Lefallon. I too, was once a knight long ago. I once walked the quest you did. I never made it." A small, sad, smile appears on the old man's worn face. "But, you were willing to listen to me. You had the patience to sit through my ramblings, so, as my duty is now, I can help you along the path I failed."

Sir Lefallon looks up at the old man. "I... I'm sorry you never made it, sir," he says. "Will you come with me? Perhaps together, we can see this through."

The old man shakes his head. "It is a path for only one. I am now simply a part of it, to forever be in this place until someone completes the quest," Nicodemus replies, then points towards the failing bridge. "The way you must go is that way. Only step where there are no scratches. The others are all trapped. And beware the gusts of wind that blow. They come every minute and are very strong. Hang onto the rope when they come. And if you will tolerate me a few moments longer, I will leave you with a few words of advice," he adds.

Sir Lefallon nods. "In your name then, Nicodemus, I'll cross this bridge." He waits for what more the old man might have to say, sorry only that he didn't think to pack food on this trip.

"What is the Grail to you, Sir Lefallon?" Nicodemus asks. "Is it just a cup to be found?"

The young knight thinks on this. "It is salvation," he says at last. "It is hope for a kingdom that has need of it, and it is renewal; that what was lost, will return again. I do not quest for my own glory, but for the sake of my kingdom, that has need of it."

Nicodemus nods slowly and says, "And that is where I failed. I saw it only as a treasure to be found. It is so much more; more than even you've said. The grail is this quest. It's the path you walk, here, now. Those you meet along the way, it isn't by chance. Don't look for just the end, but treasure each moment of it. Learn from it, be a symbol to all others of how to live." The old man smiles again. "Do that, and you will most assuredly succeed." Shakily, Nicodemus waves toward the bridge. "Onward with you. And should you finally reach the end, raise a drink in memory of a foolish old man, and all those who came before. Safe journey to you, Sir Lefallon." With that, the old man turns and shambles toward his ruined home.

Sir Lefallon salutes with his sword to Nicodemus. "Aye, in your memory, I'll do that, Nicodemus." He muses over the words a moment longer, and then steels himself for the bridge. Cross only on the parts which are unscratched, and hold onto the rope each moment. It seems simple enough to say ... but to do?

The bridge waits quietly enough as Sir Lefallon faces it. Then, he hears a rumbling roar ... as a gust of wind rushes by the bridge, threatening to throw off any who might have had the misfortune of being on it and unawares at the moment.

"One more thing," the old man calls out in the distance, "Do a favor for me. If you ever meet a raven-haired guy called Thomas, tell him 'checkmate' would you? And remember, only the ones without scratches!"

The young knight starts timing, as he examines the bricks, then hurries to jump across to the first untouched one, then the next. When there are ten seconds left to the next gust, he crouches down low and hangs onto the rope. Be careful, he thinks to himself. This isn't a race.

The severe danger posed by the sheer drop into the deep ravine is very obvious to the knight, but nonetheless, he steels himself to the challenge ... and aided with the advice of the old man (and a firm grip on the rope when the gust blows by, just as he timed it), he manages to make his way across the crumbling bridge, and to the other side ... just as a peal of thunder echoes across the sky, and the leaves sound with the pitter-patter of droplets of rain unleashed from the clouds.

Sir Lefallon grins, taking a moment to be proud of his accomplishment. "Thanks, Nicodemus," he says to the empty air. Then he hurries for the nearest shelter from the rainfall.

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.