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A tale of the venerable Lord Roth, in his ever continuing search for the Grail.
The Roth Saga.
Questing Chronicles.I.
Part I.
 
The sleeper awoke to darkness, heart hammering, ears straining and muscles tensing. With an almost impossibly swift motion the figure which lay upon the mossy carpet of the forest floor had scissored his legs and used the momentum to rise into a crouching stance. Alarmed at the sudden movement a huge steel grey warhorse tethered to a nearby beech sapling began to whinny and toss it's mighty head to and fro in excited anticipation. Oblivious to the frantic actions of the mighty warhorse the figure sent his senses out into the night to seek out the cause of his rude awakening.
Scanning the trees his eyes searched feverishly and instinctively for any sign of movement, when suddenly without conscious thought the figure abrubtly rolled to his right and snatched up the steel broadsword that lay next to the bedroll in a single fluid movement. Before sinking to one knee and raising the sword up above his head to block the blow from a crude club that was swinging down with lethal force to crack his skull.
The tall defender accepted the bone jarring strike on the sword allowing the clubs momentum to push downwards before he surged up, using powerful legs to add impetus to his counter and pushed his attacker back with irresistable force. The assailant caught off guard from the strength and speed of his opponent could only watch in wide eyed horror as the club flew from it's clawed fingered grip and it's intended victim agilely spun on his heel to bring the steel sword down in a lethal arc to cut...
Breathing heavily and with his powerful muscles twitching with adrenaline, the tall man walked towards the body of his attacker and wrinkled his nose in disgust at the terrible odour that was emanating from the fallen beastman corpse, the monstrosity's fur covered legs were still twitching and drumming the ground in a horrid parody of life, while the severed horned ram's head and lost club lay amongst a small bramble thicket a few feet behind.
"Treacherous beast!" the tall man roared at the repugnant corpse in a deep and powerful voice. "How dare you accost a nobleman when he is at rest, you dog!"
Turning briskly he marched to his snorting and aggravated steed, and held his left hand out to calm the great beast.
"Be still great heart, It is over." he soothed.
Before breaking camp and saddling his mighty warhorse Kalidus. He untied Kal's' reins from the beech sapling and led the horse to the centre of the sun dappled forest clearing that had served as their home for the eventful evening.
"It is getting to the stage where even the Lord Roth cannot be garaunteed a bit of peace for one single night, even in his own sodding domain, Lady give me strength!" fumed the enraged elderly knight. Dutifuly, his horse nodded it's mighty head in sympathetic agreement.
With increasing difficulty and exasperation the Lord Roth struggled into his ancient armour and garbed himself for war. Tall and broad he stood resplendant in his black plate armour, a silver dragons skull proudly emblazoned on the breastplate.
"A moment noble kalidus, i must pause for a piss afore we continue our quest." he scolded his impatient steed who had been pawing the ground in eagerness. Stroking his long, white walrus moustach in consternation he turned to head for the nearest tree, when Lord Roth was once again assailed by the feotid stench of the fallen beastman.
"You rotten cur, assault my nostrils no more." he cried, before quickly realising that the beastman was not only behind him but also downwind.
"Right." he thundered. "I have absolutely had it!"
Storming back to Kalidus in a rage he mounted the great steed in a graceful leap before turning the warhorse to face the horde of filthy beastmen that were just now pouring into the clearing.
"By The Lady! You rotten sods have caught me on a really bad day and for that, you are all about to recieve a damn good thrashing!" he bellowed. Spurring Kalidus forward to charge he drew his broadsword and raised it high overhead,the early light from the morning sun glittered along the length of the ancient blade.
"For King, Country and The Lady!" he screamed as man and horse crashed into the horde of surprised beasts.
Sometime later.....
 
Cursing both vocularly and fluently the Lord Roth broke the still silence of the ancient forest with his dulcet tones. "Bloody beastmen!" he cried. "In my bloody forest!.....No more i say, no more." he moaned once again to his faithful steed, whose mighty head and purse-like ears were already slumped in abject weariness at listening to yet another of it's masters colourful rants. "I've not even had any sodding breakfast yet, most important meal of the day you know.....Yes indeed, and at my age with my bowel problems i need all the fibre i can get!" Jabbered the aged cavalier, "I've not been regular since...."
*..zzzzzz..*
Lord Roth turned to his right to look incredulously at his faithful steed, who had just begun to snore. "Why you cheeky old sod!...Kalidus...Kalidus!" he cried. "You've only gone and fallen asleep again you ponce!" he roared at his four legged companion, who had suddenly drifted off.
"Noble steed?....Warhorse?.....Lady give me strength." he muttered darkly to himself.
Lord Roth leaned back against the bole of the beech tree that he had been leaning on before Kal's rude indifference, and winced silently at the pull of the fresh stitches in his side.
"Oh well." he told himself "Maybe a quick nap". And within a few short moments, he too began to snore.
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