Hi, I'm the Boy Warrior. I am a Crown Knight Squire who trains under the greatest knight in the whole Crown Kingdom. That's right, Sir Launcelot! He and I go waaaay back. Okay, not really, but I've known him all my squirehood. He has no children, so, as his favorite squire, when he dies, he said he'll give me his greatsword Dragonsbane. That sword killed three dragons! Anyway, he and I were out riding in his barony, when we heard screams for help. We rode in that direction, and lo and behold, we saw a wagon lying overturned in a glade. A peasant family was struggling to defend their possesions from a band of Wolfpack warriors! A woman, who I assumed was the mother, was hiding behind the overturned cart, crying and hugging a pretty teenage girl, who was the one screaming, and a young boy close to her. on the other side of the cart was an older man, probably the father, and a teenage boy about my age wielding some old swords and slashing at the wolfpack. we rushed into the battle, but more Wolfpack leapt from the trees and knocked us off our horses!
When I awoke, Launcelot and the father were shaking hands with some bowmen in green. I identified them as Forestmen. One winked at me and I recognized him as Lord Fletcher, current Robin Hood of the Forestmen. Another one carried a quarterstaff instead of a bow, and I recognized him as Jon, Fletcher's best friend and descendant of the legendary Little John. I got up and looked around. several Wolfpack were lying around. one had an arrow in his rear end,
It was a bad day for Wolfpack, and a fun day for me!
(other adventures coming soon)

We fell down laughing wildly. The troll started dancing angrily, tripped over his pantaloons, and promptly stabbed himself in the chest by mistake. 

Oromis got his foot fixed up by an elf wizard, and we haven't heard much from him the whole time, but he and Ellena keep on clashing their swords together, so the wizards must be used to seeing the two of them by now. But about the sword, it turns out it's a rare Dragonhunter Sword!
What happened was this, Gareth had been scouting ahead with Sir Fredric, and when Fredric came running back alone, and also screaming, we rode at full gallop in the direction he came from. What we saw was a big green giant troll exchanging blows with Sir Gareth! He had already wounded it twice, but he normally carried a halberd, so he was unused to his sword. Thus, he had not cut very deep, and had only enraged the troll. We surrounded him, and finished him off in a trice. For some reason they made me cut off his head. ME of all people. I nearly threw up in my mouth. I mean, I can kill in battle, but cutting off the head of an already dead troll is like beating a dead horse. 