“No thanks,” quoth Kaeteli, her voice a rush of honey into the hero’s ears. He sadly vacated the feast and exited the castle onto the streets of Sargoth. “This is bullshit,” he muttered, his heart aching a thousandfold at the fair maiden’s rejection. “I shall must needs endeavour to win her then,” he asserted to himself.
There was a tournament underway in Sargoth at that time, whither all the greatest warriors of the land had conglomerated in order to prove their might and win the favour of a lady. Asgarth approached the arena and entered himself as a contestant. My victory here will surely secure her good graces, he pondered.
Unfortunately he should have changed his name from Asgarth the Invincible to Asgarth the Vincible, for the other fighters were a lot stronger and better at fighting than he, who was soon lying in the dust of the arena, covered in bruises and blood. “This is bullshit,” he growled, spitting sand out of his mouth.
After he recovered from his wounds, Asgarth advanced upon the royal castle inside Sargoth. “I desire to speak unto the Lady Kaeteli,” he explained to the guard at the front gate.
“She isn’t interested,” the guard countered.
Asgarth shuffled away in anger. “This is bullshit,” he muttered, heading for the tavern, where he might drown his misfortunes. This wasn’t how he had imagined the adventuring life at all.
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