From where we swiftly left off because of matters I had to attend to, we left our shitlessly scared hermit (who I do believe was armed with a ladel) to face the mighty warriors under the command of Harold Tox...
As the pounding beat of the horses rode on forwards, each warriors raised their maces high in the air and started to bash everything in their path. No matter what it was, a tree, a bush, a rabbit, a small child, an old guy stroking a cat - everything was a blockade that needed shifting. Soon, the charging charge of chargers reached the grove, where the hermit had built a house out of bricks he had excreciated (and I'm not going to explain what he used as mortar).
"Bow citizen before your righteous king!" Shouted one of the heavily armed soldiers, whose mace was engraved with the Seal of the Dragon.
"Leave the poor bastard alone," cried another one who was obviously new to the group as his scrawny body showed, "Why should he bow to someone who's caused so much devistation and despair amongst the land?"
"You bloody idiot," The heavily armed soldier replied, "Otherwise he'll beat him to death with his mace, I mean look at the ruddy thing..."
The weakling soldier stared at Harold's mace, the spikes had been sharpened finely and the handle was coated with an evil, pink emulsion that smelt of strawberries and evening primrose.
"...you could poke somebodies eye out with that thing!"
Eventually, Harold raised his hand to order the men from shouting any further.
"You, hermit thingy that lives in a house made of shitbricks," Harold yelled at the hermit, who carried the hemp sack across his shoulder, "My name is Harold Tox, and I own the land - we believe that an Elder Dragon was electrocuted by lightning a few miles upwards from this exact point! Do you know by any chance where it's testicles could have landed?"
The hermit acted confused, he ruffled his beard and shrugged. He placed the hemp sack over the wooden stand that hung over the fire.
"I'm sorry, your m... majesty," The hermit giggled (who had a surprisingly strong Cornish accent), "I ain't seen no dragon bollocks. 'Ere, ain't they s'posed to be valuable, or something?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, they are. Only one person has ever feasted upon the succulent sap within them; Princess Maris Pethwater - Mistress of Love, Adventure and Beastiality."
"This is so stupid," The new one to the group laughed, "How can one worship an idol that supports sexual intercourse between human and beast? It's just not natural! How would you like it if half-man half-cow people started walking the place, it would be a f***ing nightmare!"
"You know what," The heavily armed soldier screamed, "If you don't shut that gob of yours in ten seconds, I'm gonna pull your f***ing arms off and feed them to my pet troll!"
He daren't say another word.
Suddenly, Harold's nostrils flared. The smell of burning meat (with a hint of salt and yeast) filled the air; the hemp sack was burning - and so was it's contents!
"What is that most repulsive smell that smells like an early morning's witch-burning?"
Harold jumped off of his horse and walked towards the burning hemp sack. For a man of such 'high' importance, his height was incredibly limited. Harold was the son of a dwarf and a human, so his genetics had obviously hit him. Harold reached deep into the hemp sack, and lifted out the two testicles and raised them into the sky, glowing the foggy moonlight.
"You bastard," The heavily armed soldier yelled at the hermit, "You've burnt them. Now they're useless. You deserve to have your toes removed with a blunt spoon..."
The hermit simply stood there, blinking happily.
"...made of ebony!"
"NO! NO! ANYTHING BUT THAT!" The hermit screamed.
The heavily armed soldier got off of his horse and grabbed the hermit by his arms and then Harold pulled out from the leather pouch that hung cumbersomely off of his belt an ebony spoon and started to scratch at the hermits toes harshly. The hermit yelped fearfully.
"That teaches you to hide the TRUTH from me, Harold Tox - AKA - The Carrier of the Ebony Spoon!"