King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table (IC)
On Easter Sunday for nearly 18 years, a tournament is held in the Grotto of the Fallen King. Every year, the best knights in the land are invited to fight for glory, honor, fame, and most importantly, a chance to pull the legendary sword Excalibur from the stone. The sword was put their by Uther Pendragon, the last king of Britain. In his dying moments, he used the last of his great strength to shove the legendary blade of kings into the stone. Since then, knights have tried to pull the sword from the stone, but all have failed.
Every year since he was 9, Arthur, son of Ector, had gone to the tournament, but always as a squire. Now 17, his father has kept him a squire. While this year, his brother Kay finally joins the tourney as a knight. Kay and Arthur are the same age, but the reasons that Ector has for keeping Arthur a squire are unbeknownest to him. Whatever the reason, Arthur once again had to sit and watch and help his brother, while all the other boys his jousted and beat the snot out of eachother.
The day of the tournament was fairly uneventful. Well as uneventful as a day full of fun can be when all your doing is spectating. Arthur helped his brother, maintained his kit, and took care of Kay's aging but sturdy horse. All of that, along with taking lip from every other young knight in the camp. He'd be offended, if he wasn't so used to the abuse. Things only got worse that evening, when all of the knights drank and were merry around the camp fires, with maiden's on their arms. Of all of the big loud morons, the biggest and the loudest was Mordred Le Fay. A knight both feared and loved, they say he was King Uther's son, but took on his mother's family name. He was the clear favorite to win this year, to the point where some people already calling him King Mordred. While they feasted, Arthur laid in his makeshift bed with his flea-bitten blanket, trying to tune it all out. Eventually, most of the camp was sleeping and Arthur almost managed to do the same when someone kicked his feet.
"Wake up, brother." It was Kay. "I need a witness." Oh this ought to be good. thought Arthur. "What is it? Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Arthur replied, sitting up. Kay kicked his boots again. "Come on. We're going to the stone. Try not to wake Sir Fredrick or Father."
Dual Post with WitchChild
The crowd surrounded the small grove where the stone lay. Most were angry, even jealous. Some wept. A few dropped to their knees. Before Arthur could say anything or try to put the sword back, a cry came up from the back of the crowd.
"Out of my way! Let me pass!" It was Sir Mordred le Fay. He looked more angry than anyone else in the crowd.
"You! Boy!" he pointed at Arthur. "How did you get that?" Before Arthur could answer, the friar stepped up.
"This boy is the rightful king of this land and you have no right to deny him!" he said, brandishing his wooden staff with authority.
"This boy is a welp who doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground. Put Excalibur back in the stone and I will draw it." Begrudgingly, Arthur obeyed and slid Excalibur back into the moss covered rock. As soon as his hand were off the sword, Mordred pushed him out of the way and pulled with all his might. Like so many others before him, he strained and heaved to no avail. After he finally gave up. he kicked the rock in frustration. As withdrew, Arthur took the hilt of the sword in his hand again. Unlike last time, he was shaking with fear. If he could draw the sword again, he would prove that this all wasn't a fluke. Just like before, however, the sword slipped from the stone as if it was being pulled from a scabard. The crowd cheered and booed again. Arthur knew at this point that he truly was the only one who could pull Excalibur from the stone.
At the camp, near the mess tent, a knight in a somewhat tarnished chainmail, tabard with an emblem of a shield, a sword and a dragon walked by. His wavy black hair went past his ears and his unshaven jaw itch just a little. He was Sir Lancelot du lac, a young aspiring knight of the court. Many thought that this knight could pull the sword out of the stone though when he did he was unable to though some said it was because he wasn't really trying. He strode on the grass and mud, his steel toed leather boots sinking into the ground a little until he unfortunately bumped into a serving girl of thirteen with red hair and freckles. She had been carrying a basket of bread to be taken to soldiers. "Sorry sir, I did not see you there" She said quickly, averting her eyes from him and quickly though somewhat clumsily gathering up the bread from the ground and dusting what dirt may have gotten on it. She was surprised to see a gauntleted hand assisting her and she looked up at the handsome face of Sir Lancelot. "That's quite alright" He said kindly to her, placing the bread in the basket and took it as they stood up straight. "Be more careful. We want the food on the table, not the ground" He joked and smiled at the poor girl which made her smile and blush. He handed her the basket and departed from her. He then heard a commotion nearby so he picked up he pace. The mumbling which he had heard before was more intelligable and he heard that the sword had been finally pulled out from the stone which turned his brisk walk into a run.
He walked through the crowd and saw the lowly squire named Arthur with the sword of Kings in hand which made Lancelot's eyebrow arch but somewhat relieved aswell. He saw the venerable wizard Merlin there aswell, possibly there to make sure no one would question the claim that Arthur made being now the King.
Merlin stood on the stone and quieted the crowd with a raise of his hands. "This boy is Arthur, and he has been chosen to be the king of this land! With Excalibur, he will heal the land of it's woes!"
Mordred put his hand on the hilt of his sword. "NEVER! I Challange This!" He screamed.
"And what? So you can be king?" Said a new voice. "I have defended this land from Saxon invasions since you were in swaddling clothes. I should rule!" Mordred got right into the big man's face. "Lot, you barbarian cur! You're no better than the Saxons!"
With that, swords were drawn and daggers were unsheathed. What had once been a gathering of nobles and high born knights now turned into a common brawl. In the confusion, Arthur tried to back up, but instead he ran into Merlin.
"How do you do that?" Arthur asked. He was beginning to wonder if all the stories about him were true.
"Nevermind that, boy. You have to get out of here. Go to Tintagel Castle, on the Welsh coast. We can speak more there."