Perceval remained absolutely still until the bandit was a mere sword’s length away before dodging and parrying the attack with his own. Slashing the sword towards the bandit’s right flank, Perceval gave a cry of triumph as it tore through flesh and bone. Lost in the haze of battle, Perceval continued his attack in much the same fashion, until all that was left of the man was a leg, torso, and head. “Give up bandit!” commanded Perceval. “I can still fight!” argued the bandit, his harsh demeanor tainted by his petulant tone. The bandit hobbled on one leg to Perceval, head-butting the knight. Perceval scowled at the persistent bandit and side-stepped another barrage of head slams, rubbing his aching head all the while. “You are ridiculous. I’m leaving.” announced Perceval, walking away from the bandit and towards the mysteriously reappearing little man. Together, they left the presence of the bandit.
“Come back you ninnies!” he taunted. Perceval shook his head at the obviously insane bandit and instead said to the squat man beside him, “Now, show me to the Grail and tell me your name.” “Just call me Gargle, I’ll let you figure out why that’s my …show more content…
Her appearance was haggard with matted hair and bloodshot eyes, her matronly demeanor gone. Rearing back her arm, magic ball poised above her shoulder, she launched it directly at Perceval.
Tisiphone screeched like a harpy, “Be gone! The Grail is mine!” Perceval briefly wondered why his mother was there and then dismissed the insight to focus on the battle. Panicking, Perceval slashed the air, his sword predictably hitting nothing as he flailed. Running on pure instinct, Perceval ducked, narrowly avoiding the magic. In a moment of cleverness, Perceval whipped out a mirror Blancheflor had given him. As his mother once again sent an orb of magic, he deflected it off the surface of the mirror. The magic beamed back to its sender, setting her in flames before she disappeared in a burst of smoke. Gasping, Perceval stared at the spot his mother had just been. Perceval had known that it had not been his real mother, yet he shed a tear at having had to kill an illusion of her. Perceval whipped his head around, looking for an explanation for the mirage and scanning the area for anymore danger. A crawling sense of unease flooded him, and with trepidation he sought out his scornful