-Quest

            He Stood there, at the edge of the forest with the
            tools to overcome the barricade.  He pulled out his
            sword, and sat there, trying to get ready for the
            battle against a hundred men from which he might
            not return.

            He is ready.  He has the sword in hand, and starts
            to make his way around the lake, to the other side
            to overcome the barricade.  He moves to a tree and
            counts the men at the barricade.  Taking only a few
            seconds.  27, what appeared to be over a 100 was only
            about 30.  He could do this, he knew he could take
            these men out, in sword play he was the best, and no
            one could beat him.

            He knew it was time, time to go and make his most
            impressive mark in history.  To take over 25 men
            would be on of the best accomplishments of anyone
            from now until the last day of the world.

            The grip he had on the sword could break a bone
            into pieces.  He had the readiness, he had the
            skill, and he had the mind to charge.

            He jumped from behind his little barricade and
            ran, with a deathcry to put a chill into all of
            the men.  The men turned, saw, and responded.

            They brought out knights, they brough out horse
            mounted generals.  All the weapons, but they were
            out skilled by the warrior.  He took them all out,
            sometimes up to four in just a single slash.  His
            skill was none that all had ever seen, he was ready
            to stop anyone and beat them personally.  He turned
            to the last person, and killed him.

            He had done it, but in the distance, there was a
            man, but not the normal man, a man in armor that
            would now be considered a masterpiece.  He was a
            knight of his own skill.  His likeness, and he was
            not ready for this.

            The man walked with patience towards the warrior,
            the warrior only sat there, in a fighting stance
            with his sword in front of him, as if it was to
            ward the man away.  The warrior knew what he did
            was going to be in the books, but he didn't want
            to become part of history today, he wanted to live
            out the rest of his life.  He had his choices, he
            could run and be a coward, or turn and fight.  He
            didn't want to be branded a coward, so he turned to
            fight.

            As if the Gods were watching, rain started to fall,
            the condition was for a fight, a fight that would
            be once told to their grandchildren.  It was time
            to see who would be a hero and who would come home
            in a cedar box.

            The man could be called a knight, with a sword that
            had a thick and sharp blade.  With perfect armor that
            was more than likely never worn.  He stood but no more
            than ten feet from the warrior.  They were ready.  It
            came to a contest of who could look the other in the
            eye and make the other man feel fear.

            Both in fighting stance, waiting.  Ten minutes passed,
            twenty, thirty.  The men sat there, finding out who
            the other was, trying to make him the lesser with
            fatigue.  It was four hours before the men finally
            considered fighting.

            "Well, have at it Knight, for I am impatient to bring
            your head home in a bag." The warrior taunted

            The knight just sat there for a minute.

            "When you die, and your soul leaves your body, you
            will at least have the honor to have fighten the
            best in this part of the world."

            The taunt was a good one, and the warrior was a litter
            moved but it, but he knew he could win, if he would
            just start the fight.

            For the reason of all good, the warrior knew he was
            supposed to wait, but rules were made to be broken.
            With the speed of a thousand man, he brough the sword
            up.  With not only speed, but strength.  His sword went
            through the blade of the knight, and brought his head from
            his shoulders.  The feeling of it being over was one
            of the best feelings.  Yet the body did not fall.  It
            just sat there, in the same stance.  As if the body did
            not have time to react to such a quick attack.  Finally
            the body fell to the ground, and all was over.

            As promised, the knight pulled out a leather bag and put
            the knights head into the bag.  It was over.  The knight
            was slow, and possibly just one of the worst, but the
            taunt he threw, the armor he wore, the shield he had, the
            sword he shown.  That enough was able to make any man
            feel that he was beaten.  But in the end, it came to the
            man with the most heart, and the lone warrior beat the
            knight with years of training, and the best weapons and
            protection gold could have boughten.

            He made his mark in history, and lived his life full.  It
            was his greatest day, one which will be shown in story to
            others again and again.

    -MistaWho-