Quest for the Fountain of Youth (EPic poem)

Twas many, many year ago,
In a realm that ye may know.
A land of wealth, magic, and glory,
Is where we now begin our story.
Once there was a man, a yeoman for sooth,
Who went in search of the fountain of youth.
He was clothed all in jade just like a forester,
And carryeth more weapons than the Earl of Leicester.
Upon his back, some arrows and a bow of might,
A shield, sword, and dagger in case of a fight.
For a sound journey, where he may go, around his neck,
He weareth a medal of St. Chris to keep him from heck.
In case of hunger and want of a good meal,
Upon his shoulder, a hunting horn to catch some veal.
During his journey, a hostel he came to,
There stoodeth a man of a ghastly grey hue.
"Three questions, this," the grey man then said,
"Answer and thou may continue ahead,"
Being so brave, courageous indeed,
The good yeoman quickly agreed.
"Answer, this, the full of thy name,
Tell me the reasons why ye came."
The yeoman replied with naught of a pause,
Remembering the prom'nence of his cause.
"I am but a mere attendant to a lord knight.
His proud name is all that shoudst encompass thy mind tonight.
If thou, for sooth, persisteth in knowledge of mine.
Knowst thou, only the name of Bobin Dood the fine.
Yea, for sooth, I am truly kin to Robin Hood,
But lesser known am I in the wood.
The reasons I have, for why I have came,
A great miraculous drink is my aim."
The ghastly grey man stopped and thought,
A slow smile crept across a face quite taut.
"Journey on and pray thee well,
I hope ye find your holy well.
Remember this, heed my word,
Danger ye will have incurred.
If you keep on this, journey so grave,
Peril will surround one so brave.
Three questions I had to ask ye at first,
None now are needed because of your thirst."
Bobin Dood departed with a good grace,
And started for the mountains at a slow pace.
Four days of walking till he came to a town,
He heard wailing like the loss of one renowned.
Questioned he did but to no avail,
No one told him what did prevail.
Until at last a simple beggar-maid,
Told him of a tale of one so betrayed.
The lord of the town, had in the war
Been surrounded and did so implore,
He and his men were quickly confined,
For their rescue, the town disinclined.
No one was willing to journey away,
To face a trip precarious so they say.
The town was left in mis'ry and sorrow,
At the prospect of a new lord tomorrow.
"Nay," the good Bobin Dood, then said,
"This town's great lord is not yet dead.
Do not choose your new lord yet,
The former and his men I will get.
Give me a week and four strong men,
Away to the saving of your lord and then,
To keep searching for what I foretaste,
You need be quick for I must make haste."
The town agreed and away he went,
Along with the four men they had sent.
Their names were this, when all is told:
Great Osin Jaunn the one most bold,
Battle-hardened and weapon-ready,
But came to bow, the most unsteady.
Wak'dern Pendus lover of most drinks,
Verily bright, always did he think.
No matter the incident, quickly with his head,
His sharp mind could keep them all from becoming dead.
The name of the third was known as Vilan,
Nothing much is known about this strange man.
The fourth was the cousin to the good caught Lord,
A former hermit, always true to the Word.
The five men left on a journey devout.
Walking a slow and perilous route.
Through mountains and forests, secret and deep
Down meadows, through valleys, dark and steep.
Once to the place where the lord was taken,
Two guards stood there as ones just awaken.
Bobin Dood walked forward to the one more tall,
And looked to him with eyes that could enthrall.
Slowly he began to question him out,
As to where they could find the lord's whereabouts.
The guard pulled himself up and slowly began,
"Who be ye and thy men, what do thee plan."
"My name is naught as so is my men,
My plan is which I may tell ye when,
Where is the lord of the nearby town?
Taken in battle, ye did surroun'"
Bobin Dood replied quick and sound,
To his master, the guard did bound.
Just as quick as he left he returned,
"A meeting with ye the King hath yearned,
He's heard of thy deeds, near and far,
A pact mayhaps be reached that none can bar."
The yeoman bade his men to stay,
And followed the guard on his way.
He entered the throne room, gold and bright,
Sparkling gems gleamed in the dusky light.
The windows were made with bright colored glass.
The King was seated on a throne of brass,
In robes of red, purple, and green,
Sat beside him his lovely Queen.
Around her neck, diamonds and gold,
The crown on her head a sight to behold.
The King was dressed in the finest fur,
Around him was the scent of myrrh.
Surrounding the room were men with arms,
Ready to answer to any cries or alarms.
The King beckoned him aloud,
And slowly of him, he avowed,
"For sooth, thou art but a mere yeoman,
A commoner at that, a simple bowman.
Through good deeds and service to thy lord,
Thou art much respected and verily adored.
Lord God above has granted thee fortitude,
The results of which cannot be misconstrued.
In many a battle and danger, ye doth win,
Never have ye felt the hold of bitter chagrin.
A better man before me hath naught stood,
Join with me, for the lord it would be good."
Bobin Dood said after he thought it over,
"No, to thee never will I join, moreover,
I doth follow and attend where my knight doth dwell,
I will follow him unto the deep depths of hell.
As to the lord, who you doth keep,
In the dungeon dark and deep.
Return him to his trifling town,
Where his people doth aboun'"
The King replied with naught of a pause,
"Never, it would be against the laws!
I wilt fight thou for the town,
Be warned, though, death will aboun'"
The good yeoman quickly agreed,
He knew in his heart he would succeed.
Preparations were made, the seconds were picked,
For the hero, Osin Jaunn to end the conflict.
Notices were sent, crowds were collected,
A mighty battle was soon expected.
Heralds were ready to state, who had won,
And with that the battle, soon had begun,
The King swung first, mighty and sure,
But simply was it thwarted on the moor.
Bobin Dood swung next, he aimed for the head,
The splinters of blade, in the King's neck did imbed.
There on the moor, the great King fell,
The heralds then did they tell,
Bobin Dood then stated,
What the King had dictated.
The lord was released, his men as well,
As the death bell began to knell.
The lord looked at the King quite dead
To the good yeoman he then said,
"The Lord above hath granted thee fortitude,
The results of which can no longer be misconstrued.
Come with me unto the waiflike town,
Where many riches on thee will aboun'"
"Nay, my lord," the good yeoman replied,
A journey I began must preside."
The lord bade him farewell on his journey so fine,
The four men went with the one they thought so divine.
And so, Bobin Dood continued on his way,
He and his men walked without a delay.
Towards the everlasting fountain they diligently seeked,
And evermore they had so lovingly bespeaked.