Sir. Baldric and The Evil
Threshmit


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