The men sat around the knights camp drinking grog and laughing at the tall tales being told about kira.
An old cook who traveled with the knights, more for his stories than his ability with a lance, or a pot, approached the guffawing Olgoth. “Sir my name is Tinker, you wouldnt be the same Olgoth from ‘The Battle Of Gawain’s Gate.”
Olgoth bowed his head an answered, “Yes I am sir?”
“Oh to the gods!We should be dead, you idiots(the knights)do you know you rose your swords to ‘Olgoth The Freeman’. We would have done better to try to have tried to beat up Hercules.”
“Now kind sir I am no Hercules.” Olgoth offered the old timer a drink.
“No my lord, if the drink has dulled my wits to make a mistake like that I will never touch it again.”
“Oh come now sir, if you were at Gawain’s gate and lived, you must be every part my equal.”
The old man choked and reached for the wine, “Well if you are going to be tellin those kinds of lies I might be needin that drink.”