Novel To Be King

Discussion in 'Community Fictions' started by Silver Snake, Mar 15, 2019.

  1. Silver Snake

    Silver Snake Magician of NUF|Show-off|Awkward|Genius

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    Hey, I've been, uh, feeling a bit down from my recent western fantasy reads and am in very much the mood for something fun and dare I say romantic and comedic? Anyway, I won't be promising a conclusion or an ending to this story. I'll likely keep on writing this as long as I feel this way. Really, I just want something fun and not too serious, but perhaps some specks of seriousness sprinkled throughout?

    Synopsis:
    A farmhand boy (I'm not sure on the actual ages, I'm guessing 15-20) Arthur is told by the great wizard Merlin that he is the one and only hero king. But before he goes about accepting his destiny of uniting the kingdoms and vanquishing all manner of evils he wants to first obtain what he really wants, the affections of the girl of his dreams and daughter to the lord of the land Guinevere.

    Genre:
    Romance, Comedy, Action?

    Table of Contents
    1. The King
    2. The Not so Fateful Encounter
    3. Maids and Meetings
    4. Excalibur
    5. Plans of Action
    6. To be King
    7. Resolutions Made
    8. The Farm
    9. Departure
     
    Last edited: Apr 25, 2019
    Yuumei and raitei like this.
  2. Silver Snake

    Silver Snake Magician of NUF|Show-off|Awkward|Genius

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    Off in a field of crops, a farmhand is swinging a sickle to collect wheat. He was a boy in his 17th year. Arthur had short raven black hair and big slit eyes that gave off an air of composure which always contrasted with his carefree nature. This was a job he would attend to for most of his given daylight. He never resented or bored from his continuous and repetitious labor.

    This was because it was a job that had to be done, for without it the people could not eat, and he wasn't alone in doing this job, for the fields were large and the number of peasants wishing not to pay taxes many. Yes, those who farmed, unlike all other professions (excluding those of the church), needed not to pay a monthly tax to the lord of the land. And the reason why Arthur never bored was because he would have wild fantasies, wherein he could do anything. Yes, this farm boy was perfectly content with his days.

    On that night, Arthur was about to slip into the sheets of his bed, when suddenly, a lightning bolt struck in the middle of his room, bringing along with it a thunderous boom and a flash of light so bright that it seemed to set the room ablaze. And in the next moment, it was gone.

    With the disappearance of the bolt of light came the appearance of a man who looked to be in his late, late years at the exact same spot. His face was littered with wrinkles and his body was incredibly skinny. Yet still, there was a strength in the way the man stood, tall and straight. He wore a dark blue wool cloak that reached all the way to the floor. And his beard, it reached halfway to his waist, as white and fluffy as clouds.

    To Arthur, the spontaneously manifested wizard Merlin pointed. With a sonorous voice that boomed and shook the room just as strongly as the lightning bolt, he declared, "Young Arthur, you who shall become the once and future king, the first of the Knights of the Roundtable." Resting his accusing finger, Merlin turned his hand, opened it, and said, "Join me and claim your most glorious destiny." Arthur was silent, not believing what he was seeing or hearing.

    He blinked several times in hopes that it would remedy the possible dream, illusion, mental breakdown, or whatever it was. It did not. Arthur then thought about what the wizard said, quite seriously at that, and in an instant said, "No thanks—I mean, thanks for the offer, really. I'm sure not many get it. But yeah... I'm good. I'm perfectly happy with the way things are."

    It was now Merlin’s turn to be speechless and disbelieving. He thought intensely for 10 seconds and asked in a completely normal voice, "What?”

    Arthur repeated, “I said I’m perfectly happy with the way things are.”

    “That is unthinkable! All young men should be greedy, grabbing anything and everything they can, and stuffing it in their pockets!”

    Arthur shrugged and said, “Not me.”

    Merling did not relent, “Surely you want something, right? Everyone wants something!"

    “Well... there is one thing.”

    “Out with it!”

    “I don’t think I’ll ever have it.” Arthur’s head bent down, as if out of loss.

    "What is this thing you can not possibly obtain!? I’m a wizard! I can conjure up most anything! If I get it for you, will you join me on the path toward your destiny?"

    “Fine, I’ll say it, but promise not to laugh.”

    The wizard nodded so fast his head nearly flew off.

    “There’s this girl—“

    A fit of laughter burst out from Merlin’s mouth, “Hahaha! A girl?”

    Arthur looked on at Merlin patiently and without expression.

    Noticing this from the corner of a near tear-filled eye, the wizard calmed down, shrinking his hearty bellows into minuscule snickers until the room became silent, turned back to Arthur, and said, “Please continue.”

    “She’s a noble girl. The daughter of a lord. She’d never see some peasant as a future anything.”

    “When you become a king you could have your pick; those of the highest birth, most knowledgeable in mind, and fairest in features. None would be out of your reach. Why delay? What makes her so special?

    "She just is. Help me in courting her and I’ll do whatever you want. I'm sure you can do something with your wizardly ways.” Arthur lifted his hands and waved them in an outward arc, copying the gesture he had once seen from a wandering performer, “Of course I know magic can't affect the hearts of others. It happens all the time in stories. So I only ask for you to grant me an opportunity or two."

    "No, I can most certainly tamper with the hearts of others. Just say the word and she's yours, presto," the wizard snapped his fingers and from it, sparks flew out.

    "No way, I'm not going to spend the rest of my days with a mindless zombie. You agree or not?"

    Merlin mumbled childishly, “What’s wrong with zombies? They’re very hard working.” He didn't have much of a choice, only one prophesied king existed, and Arthur was it. Well, Merlin did have a choice, but being the powerful wizard he was, as unfamiliar with obstacles as a mason was to shoemaking, he refused the idea of waiting one more second to divine an alternative, and agreed.

    "I do." With that, Merlin proffered his hand. Arthur gladly shook it.
     
    Last edited: Apr 22, 2019
  3. Silver Snake

    Silver Snake Magician of NUF|Show-off|Awkward|Genius

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    In the same moment that Arthur and Merlin's shake came down , they were no longer in Arthur’s bedroom. The farm boy looked around at this unfamiliar scene. They were now in a garden at the back of a mansion. Littering the grass ground were stone walkways and patches of dirt framed by short walls of bricks. And in these patches of dirt grew flowers of all colors and shapes. Lattice fences enclosed the garden with overgrown vines all over them. And surrounding the whole estate was a 12-foot high brick wall. The only similarities to the last scene being the night sky and crescent moon.

    The wizard pointed up at a balcony on the second floor of the mansion and said, "Okay, she's up in that balcony. let's do this."

    “Wait! What’s going on? Where are we?”

    “Is it not obvious?” Merlin motioned to their surroundings. “We’re in the garden of the manor of the young lady you mentioned.”

    “How is that obvious? How did you even know who or where she was?”

    “I’m a wizard. From now on, every time you ask me how I do something, I’m going to answer you: I’m a wizard. Okay?”

    Arthur stared hard at Merlin and thought begrudgingly, mmm, fine.

    Merlin answered, “Great! Now let’s get this show on the road!”

    The wizard picked up a nearby pebble and bent the arm which held it back. Arthur ran in front of him with hands held up and said, “Wait! What are you doing!?”

    “How else do you expect to get her attention? This is what they always do in stories, right?”

    “Well, yes. But are you mad?! You can’t just go up to a girl and talk to her. That’s insanity!”

    “You have a better idea?”

    “... No, not really.”

    “Then I’ll just—“ Merlin arched his arm back once again.

    “Give me a second!” Arthur thought for a good minute. He grumped about certain aspects throughout the process. Feeling satisfied, he said, “Okay, here’s my plan. You use your magic to make the next season’s crops grow bigger and tastier; a lot bigger and tastier. And then we wait for the harvest for everyone to realize how amazing the yield is. That’s when I step in and say it was me that did it. It won’t matter whether they believe me or not. I’ll offer to do it again to prove it. I wave my hands over a couple of plants. Then we wait another season. And that’s when they’ll see I’m the real deal. Of course you’ll be the one supplying the real magic. And after they’ve acknowledged me as a great and powerful wizard that, that is when I’ll be invited to a fancy event in the lord’s manor. And that’s where I’ll meet her. It’s the perfect plan.”

    Merlin shook his head dismissively and said, “That is the worst plan I’ve ever heard in all my years. Do you think you’re the first to try and use magic to make crops grow? That town won’t be throwing a parade for you. They’ll burn you at the stake and make a whole festival of it. That’s what happened to my cousin Mort. You’re here, she’s over there. What’s the problem?”

    Exasperated, Arthur sighed and said, “You have no tact! You can’t just go up to a girl and talk to her! The first thing she’ll ask is why I’m here!”

    “Why are you here?” asked a girl from the balcony. She wore a white dress with an intricate, golden embroidered design of swirling vines on the hem and collar. On her wrists were silver bracelets so abundant that they left no skin seen, and atop her head she wore an emerald encrusted silver circlet.

    Her auburn hair flowed like a fountain, obfuscating her hazel eyes that seemed to Arthur to look right through him. And that smile of hers, it seemed so small, yet at the same time so very pleased.

    Arthur turned around and darted his head left and right. There was no wizard in sight. Inwardly, Arthur sighed. That’s one less question, thought Arthur. He quickly turned back to the girl, nearly forgetting her in his relief.

    He said, “O, fair lady, doth thee knoweth thine name?”

    “Do I know my name? Why are you talking like that?”

    “Is that not how nobles normally talk? Whenever I went to the city I always heard nobles talking like that.”

    “They must have been quoting a play or something. No one really talks like that unless it’s for a performance or ceremony.”

    Arthur nodded in understanding, “That makes sense. It would be pretty confusing if everyone talked like that.”

    “So why are you here?”

    Arthur’s body became stiff. He tried to think up any number of possible excuses: He was lost, He had to talk to the lord of the manor about something, a chicken was chasing him. But in that moment, looking at her, as the light from her room gleamed around her, as it glowed down on him in that darkened garden, he could only see her, nothing else mattered. He said, “I came here to see you.” After saying so, Arthur smiled with a warmth and gentleness Guinevere had never seen before.

    Guinevere was so surprised by the genuine, blatant truth of his words that she crouched on the spot, hiding her reddened face in her knees. What is he thinking, saying such a thing! she thought.

    In the past, other sons of nobles would only talk to her in one of two ways: they were either sons of neighboring lords who thought it was a matter of course that she should like them and that they her; Or the other type that were sons of lower nobles who were always unctuous in the way they tried to gain favor with her family and not really her. Yes, in truth, she was inexperienced in matters of love.

    “Um, are you okay? ” asked Arthur.

    Guinevere was so lost in reminiscing her past that she barely heard him. In response, she shot back up, standing with back straight. Proper etiquette was something she was taught since childhood, and because of this, her posture and head level were absolutely perfect, making Arthur forget about her fall in admiration of her noble countenance.

    In order to process what she just heard, dozens of thoughts raced through her head. She recalled a memory of her five-year-old self. She was being bounced on her father’s lap. He raised her up in the air and swung her around. Oh, how she adored it—that feeling of flight. He then placed her back on his lap, and told her, “Remember, if a boy ever tries to get friendly with you, it’s a devious trick to ensnare you into an insidious plot against me.”

    At that age, she knew not what the words devious, ensnare, or insidious meant, but she recalled the look in her father’s eyes—ones of a lone soldier, staring down the last remnants of the enemy force, ready to die for his cause, but more importantly, ready to kill. Strangely enough, at that moment, Guinevere wasn’t particularly frightened by those eyes. It felt to her as if they were looking at something past her, far in the distance, though, to her father, all too close.

    It’s a devious trick, she recalled, and then looked back at Arthur, determined not to blush or fall, not for anything. Now that Guinevere looked at him again, she noticed how strong and sculpted his shoulders looked, and seeing his face again, she could only think of that smile he gave her, of how it made her feel. Again, she crouched on the spot, hiding her reddened face in her knees.

    Arthur tilted his head quizzically.

    Standing up again, she managed to say, “I-I won’t fall for any of your dastardly tricks!” Gripping intensely at her skirt with both hands, she turned her head a full 90 degrees away from Arthur's face.

    I knew it. There’s no way it would have worked. A girl like her could never like a guy like me, thought Arthur. Then he said, “I’m sorry for bothering you.” and turned to leave. When Guinevere noticed this, she suddenly felt a pang in her chest, feeling as if she had hurt him, and said, “Wait!” with an outstretched hand, as if to pull him back, and continued, “Are you not trying to trick me?”

    He replied, “Huh?”

    She said in a near whisper, “Um, for, um, some insidious plot?”

    “What? Why would I do that? That sounds silly.”

    Guinevere thought about it for a second.

    That does sound silly! thought Guinevere in agreement. It doesn’t make any sense! Why would this—she looked back at Arthur who was dressed in commoner’s garb—fine young man want my assistance in some scheme? Realizing the ridiculousness of her previous words, she reorganized herself again, throwing away any and all of her suspicions and hesitation.

    She said, “I am Guinevere of Leodegrance.” and waited expectantly.

    “Uh, I am Arthur.”

    “Just Arthur?”

    “I do believe so.”

    Satisfied, she smiled and said, “I see.”
     
    Last edited: Apr 28, 2019
  4. joey183

    joey183 The Mysterious Entity

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    An interesting story. Quite innovative way of re-telling King Authur's legends. Love it
     
  5. Silver Snake

    Silver Snake Magician of NUF|Show-off|Awkward|Genius

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    I don't even know the actual legends. Really, I'm just using their names for the convenience of the plot. It basically may as well be completely unrelated.
     
  6. Silver Snake

    Silver Snake Magician of NUF|Show-off|Awkward|Genius

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    By the right lower corner of the mansion a maid with large, rounded glasses and raven black hair tied in a ponytail was peeking out of a corner, watching the two. This is unbelievable! To think the young mistress would be talking to a boy; and alone at that! She had been there soon after the two met and witnessed most of what transpired.

    As a maid of lord Leodegrance’s mansion, she spent most of her time doing one of three things: working, eavesdropping, and gossiping. Though tonight she swore herself to secrecy. She too knew well the yearning of a romance, particularly an impossible one, such as the one these two had.

    Poor young mistress, to fall for a peasant boyone so far below your station. Suddenly, the maid Olivia felt a tapping on her back. She gave a start and nearly jumped out into the view of Arthur and Guinevere. But she caught herself, quickly ducked back behind the corner, and turned around. Who she saw was another maid, Hannah, who had short dark blond hair and was known for being the most energetic and unwieldy of them all.

    Hannah said with a sly smile, “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

    Olivia was unsure of how to respond, mumbling some words under her breath, unable to say anything intelligible.

    Hannah poked her head out of the corner. After surveying the situation, she returned behind the corner and said knowingly, “Mhm.”

    Olivia stumbled and stammered in a harsh whisper, “You-you mustn't tell anyone! If word gets around, Lord Leodegrance will find out in no time! And you-you know what he’ll do if he does.”

    Insulted, she said, “I’m not going to say a thing. I care for the young mistress’s happiness too, y’know.”

    * * *​

    For the next few days, Arthur would visit Guinevere as often as he could. He would sit atop a tree branch beside her balcony. And they would talk about all sorts of things. Guinevere would complain about her boring lessons. Arthur couldn’t think about anything interesting about himself, so he told her about the wizard Merlin. From his sudden appearance to how he was the entire reason he himself came to be in her garden. Of course, she took it as a fictional story meant to entertain and dazzle her. He didn’t much care whether she believed him or not, more so, he simply enjoyed hearing her laugh or watching her giggle. And sometimes, for no particular reason at all, they would laugh together. Perhaps it was because one of them started it, and neither of them wanted it to end.

    Until one day when one of the guards, who normally never patrolled the back end of the mansion, did in fact go there during his break. And what did he find!? Of course it was was the two of them chatting like a pair of star-crossed lovers!

    “Halt! What do you think you’re doing here? This is the lord’s manor!” shouted the guard.

    Hearing the unsheathing of the guard’s blade and seeing it glimmer as it was swung erratically through the air, Arthur’s eyes widened in fear. He then looked at Guinevere as if asking what to do. She too had those widened fear-glazed eyes. Once she read his eye she told him succinctly and desperately, “Run.”

    Arthur scurried across the branch he sat, then he hopped on to a branch that was opposite to the one he was on, and from the near tip of it he bounded up onto the wall that enclosed the perimeter of the property. With his hands over the ridges that made up the top of the wall, he hoisted himself up and over to the other side. Luckily, the mansion was built atop a low hill, so he was able to break his fall by rolling. Now at the bottom of the hill and still very much so within the city walls, Arthur began a mad dash for his dear life.

    * * *​

    Not good! Not good! Not good!

    Running down one of the streets in the city of Camelot, Arthur turned his head to see three armored guardsmen chasing after him. Looking back in front of him he saw a cart of manure being pulled by a donkey, realizing he would soon run into it if he did not quickly change course, he looked left and right—almost in the same instant—and ran into an ally at his right.

    Coming out of the ally he saw a woman carrying a basket of flowers inches in front of him. He had to dive full force to the left in order for him to not slam into her. Now he was sprawled on the dusty dirt street. Arthur looked back again. The guards were catching up. They unsheathed their swords. Not too keen on being sliced open, he started with a scamper on all fours that eventually lead into a full sprint.

    Arthur wasn’t used to the busy streets of a town. Normally, if he ever were to run, it would be out in an open field.

    Recalling the swords that were recently in a near swinging distance of him, Arthur couldn’t help but think, a sword would be nice.

    To your left, Arthur. Go to your next left.

    “Merlin!?” shouted Arthur in surprise at the voice that manifested itself in his head.

    Still running, Arthur waited for confirmation to his question. He heard none.

    He turned to the next left in the street and in his view he saw a small park-like area with green grass and in its center was a sword, hilt side up, stuck in a stone the size of kneeling man. Perfect!

    On closer inspection, Arthur saw that the sword seemed to be fused into the stone. He became less relieved and more reluctant with whether he could free the sword from the stone or not.

    While he was looking at the sword, the guards who were chasing him had finally caught up. They approached him with swords in hand.

    Now or never, thought Arthur. He gripped onto the swords handle with both his hands, settled his feet in a wide supporting position, and with all his strength, he pulled.

    The sword slipped out as easily as if it were in a freshly oiled scabbard. Because of the amount of force he used, Arthur lunged backward, landing on his butt with the sword held in his hands.

    “The sword in the stone!”

    “He freed the sword from the stone!”

    A couple of people noticed the commotion that Arthur had made. They were looking in his direction ever since he entered the park.

    One of the guards took a disbelieving step back and said grimly, “It cannot be.”

    Confused, Arthur looked around at the people gawking at him, and asked, “What?” genuinely curious.
     
    Last edited: Apr 28, 2019
  7. joey183

    joey183 The Mysterious Entity

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    So it's just an adaption on King Authur? It's an interesting read either way so I don't really mind if it follows closely to the legends or not.
    Thanks for the new update btw. It seems to have cross over to Romeo and Juliet?!! I really like this story. Have it on watch list.
     
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  8. Silver Snake

    Silver Snake Magician of NUF|Show-off|Awkward|Genius

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    Thank you sooo much!
     
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  9. SnowdropLily

    SnowdropLily 100% Procrastinator

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    I like this novel!! I am very much looking forward to more of your updates.
     
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  10. Silver Snake

    Silver Snake Magician of NUF|Show-off|Awkward|Genius

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    The same guard that took a disbelieving step back now stepped forward in outrage, with a sword gripped tight in his hand.

    Another one of the guards said reproachfully, “Commander Griffith, wait! We were told to bring him back. We weren’t supposed to actually engage him. Even if he’s got a sword, I’m sure we can still talk it out.”

    He continued marching forward, disregarding his subordinate's pleas.

    Arthur could feel the contempt that the approaching commander radiated. In response and without thinking, he assumed an on guard position, with sword held out in front of him.

    Seeing Arthur's stance, Griffith sneered. With a single hand, he swatted Arthur’s sword so quickly and with such strength that the sword nearly flew from the farm boy’s grip.

    “Why you? What makes you so special?” demanded the commander.

    Arthur took a stumbling step back and brought his sword back in front of him. But for every clumsy step he made and for every time he would ready his sword, Griffith would take another light step forward and swat it away as easily as if it were a fly.

    This went on until Arthur’s back was brought to a wall, where he readied his sword again. But this time the commander did not swat it away, no, instead he simply stared at the sword Arthur held.

    Arthur was so focused on Griffith’s approach that he didn’t notice it. When his gaze followed his opponents, down toward his sword, he saw that the blade was glowing white and he felt a warm sensation from the handle. As the blade grew brighter the heat from the handle grew hotter. All until the blade’s light flashed so bright that it bathed the entire area in its blinding light.

    Everyone was in a daze, shaking their heads and tipping over in confusion. All except Arthur who was growing more and more confused by the second. He loosened a hand from the handle. The moment the sword flashed it felt to Arthur as if it were burning his hands. But as he inspected his palm he saw nothing amiss, and the sword’s heat had died completely. As it burned him, the farm boy wasn’t sure why he held the sword tighter instead of letting it go. But something in the back of his mind figured that if he did, whatever was happening would stop, and that he did not want it to.

    Seeing his chance, and recalling the fact that they were chasing him in the first place, Arthur, yet again, ran away.

    * * *​

    Arthur was seated in an alley, resting. He thought he could get home without a need to, but a sudden tiredness seized him as he was running. A tiredness that told him he could not muster another step.

    “Excalibur takes a toll.”

    The farm boy snapped his head in the direction of the voice. It was Merlin, he was standing at the entrance of the alley. Relieved, he turned his head back in front of him.

    “That the sword’s name? You wanted me to get it, right?”

    “Yes, but you’re not ready yet. I hoped for more time.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Ha! Where to begin. Are you asking about the sword or about your readiness?”

    “Both, I guess.”

    “The sword has power, but it only acts on a need. The greater the need, the greater the strength. But it drains you—the power. You’re not ready. Not yet. I suppose you’ll have to practice. I thought we had more time. But your destiny is fast approaching, or it simply refuses to wait any longer. Know this, Arthur Pendragon, I can guide you toward your fate, but I cannot change it, only you have that ability. Good luck, my boy.”

    And with that, Merlin vanished in a puff of smoke. As Arthur raised himself up to ask Merlin where he had gone, he collapsed, unable to stand. Not good, thought Arthur. He could hear someone running, approaching him. Not good. They stepped into his view, and what he saw weren’t the boots of a soldier, but the slippers of a woman.

    “Arthur? Thank god I found you.”

    “Guinevere?”

    * * *​

    Arthur slowly opened his eyes. What he saw was an at first blurry ceiling of lined planks. As his vision focused, all of the recent events rushed through his head, causing Arthur to bolt upright. He looked around suspiciously. He saw that he was in a twin bed with a single linen pillow, and a well used but also well-kept hemp blanket, next to it was a nightstand with an unlit candle, and to his left was a square window with its curtains half pulled, dyeing the bed with a light shaft that showed the various dust particles floating through the air.

    The sword! Where’s the sword!?

    Arthur flipped his head left and right, catching a glimmer in the corner of his left eye. Excalibur was propped up between where the wall and bedframe met, blade side down. He sighed in relief, picked up the longsword, and held it out in front of him with both his hands, inspecting it.

    Arthur didn’t get a chance to take a long look at the sword during all the commotion.

    He thought it would be jewel encrusted or gold gilded with the way everyone was reacting. But looking at the sword now, the first word that popped into Arthur’s head was simple. Albeit well balanced, light, and deathly sharp. The grip was covered with strips of black leather, the pommel was a large silver sphere with parallel vertical ridges, and at the end of the silver crossguard were ridges that pointed upward, toward the blade. The blade had strange patterns of banding that flowed and swirled like a stream, and near the guard, the blade had an inscription of words that Arthur could not understand.

    Still fully dressed, Arthur walked out of the room, with sword in hand, into a hallway that had several other doors. At the end of the hallway were stairs and at the end of those was an inn’s tavern. In this tavern there were multiple circular tables, and against the walls opposite of the bar were booths with upholstered benches and rectangular tables. On the walls were flags, patterned rugs, colorful shields. On the wall behind the bar countertop was a larger than average salmon on display. Waitresses were bringing back and forth armloads of full and empty dishes and drinks. One of the circular tables was filled with six men playing cards. And some possibly drunk men were arguing about the definition of a sandwich at the bar.

    When Arthur finished looking around a heavyset man with a slightly dirty white apron approached him.

    “You can’t be walking around in broad daylight. The whole city is searching for you.”

    “What? Why?”

    The innkeeper looked down at Excalibur.

    “Oh, right, yeah, the sword. By any chance did you see a girl with auburn hair, about this height?”

    “Aye, that was the lass who brought you ‘ere and paid for your room. You were barely standing, when she walked you in.”

    “I don’t remember a thing. Did she say anything?”

    “She neglected to share any of ‘er personal matters. She seemed desperate to leave as soon as she could. I’d wait for 'er return. Doubt she’d just leave you after everything she went through to get you ‘ere.”

    “I don’t really like the idea of waiting around, but I guess that makes sense.”
     
    Last edited: Apr 28, 2019
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  11. Silver Snake

    Silver Snake Magician of NUF|Show-off|Awkward|Genius

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    On two walls there were bookshelves filled to the brim with encyclopedias, histories, and some works of fiction. In front of the exterior window wall was a desk of sturdy build and fine craftsmanship. Sitting in this desk was Lord Leodegrance. He was a tall, strong man with sharp features, slicked-back hair, and a permanent scowl. In front of the desk were two chairs. And in one of them sat Commander Griffith. This was Lord Leodegrance’s study.

    "So you're saying the person who was seen with my daughter in my own backyard is the same one who freed Excalibur. The same sword that has been here since before this city’s founding? The same sword inscribed with the words, 'Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone, is rightwise king born'?

    Griffith couldn't respond. He was expecting Leodegrance to fly into a rage at any second. It was commonly known how he treasured his daughter more than anything— especially after the Mistress's passing—and how easily the lord grew agitated.

    "Well?" asked Leodegrance.

    "Ye-yes, my lord!" answered Griffith as quickly as he could.

    "I see." Lord Leodegrance leaned back, in thought.

    Griffith said, "What should we do? Surely we can't be asked to honor the words written in a sword. A sword that’s been nothing more than an attraction since long ago. And the boy, he's just a-a commoner; and from the look of his clothes, a poor one at that. He could never even become a knight, let alone the king.”

    "We have been without a king for a long, long time. The church has held the majority for just as long. Before, the monarchy and church would keep a check on each other, but, now, without one..." I am afraid.

    "My lord? The pope is the pope. Yes, none can oppose him, but why would any want to?"

    Lord Leodegrance thought, that is exactly why.

    "Find him; get a sketch artist and put wanted posters of him all over the city, circulate them around the neighboring ones too. I want a task force made. And put the word on the street that any who have any useful information will get a lofty sum."

    "But why!? Why treat the word of legend as law?! All for a-a lowborn!"

    "It's not about who he is. It's what he represents. Only he will be accepted by the people; only he can be king. Even if it may be for a reason as foolish as prophecy or legend, it is a reason. And that will be enough." At least for now.

    Griffith still didn't understand and wanted to continue questioning, but he clenched his fists and, like any good soldier, accepted his orders without further argument, and said, "I understand, my lord." He stood from his chair, bowed, and left the room.

    When Griffith left the room he heard something skidding across the carpet floor, to the right of him, in a hall connected to his.

    Griffith scolded himself, How could I question lord Leodegrance? I must practice greater discipline.

    He turned left and walked on.

    Hannah who had been eavesdropping on the conversation of Lord Leodegrance and the head of the armed forces Griffith since near the beginning now had her back pressed against a wall, ears pricked. The steps she heard were growing fainter. The maid sighed in relief, stood upright, patted her skirt straight, and walked away.

    She met with the tall and wide dual doors of Guinevere's room. As Hannah raised her knuckle to knock, she heard from inside the room, "Please, young mistress! Don't do this!"

    "Let go of me! I said I'm going and that's that!"

    Hannah twisted the knob and slammed the door open with her shoulder. What she found was Guinevere hanging off of a makeshift rope of tied together sheets which itself was tied to the room’s balcony. Guinevere had a pillow sack slung over her back. And Olivia, the head maid was trying with all her might to pull Guinevere up.

    Hannah rushed to Olivia's side and grabbed at Guinevere.

    * * *​

    Guinevere was now sitting in the chair in front of her dresser, being stared by the two maids.

    Hannah asked Olivia, "So what happened?"

    "Pretty much what you saw, I came to check up on her and I see her about to raise her leg over the balcony. I fear I wouldn't have stopped her if not for you. I mean, without potentially causing a fall, either to me or the young mistress."

    Guinevere interrupted, "You know I hate it when you guys call me that. Just call me Guin!"

    Olivia shook her head disapprovingly and said, "You know that is not proper."

    Guinevere stuck her tongue out half mockingly and half in defiance. Though she still did not dare to stand from her chair, for she knew that the slightest step from it would cause the two maids to tackle her down to the floor like a cornered pig. Or at least that's what she thought, from the way they eyed her.

    Olivia said, "Young mis—"

    Guinevere gave the raven-haired maid a look that said, I'll not answer any questions if you continue to address me like that. Olivia was startled but did not show it. Olivia knew that in this way she was very much like her father—able to say what she wanted without having to say it. Your etiquette could use some work, but in a way, you do show your own nobility, was what Olivia thought.

    Olivia feigned a cough and continued on, "Guin, please tell us why you saw it fit to escape from your room with half the valuables in the room slung over your back. You know you can trust us."

    She did know she could trust them; they had taken care of her since she was only a wee thing, they had played with her when her father was too busy, so she sighed in resignation, and told them, "There's this boy—"

    Olivia waved her hand dismissively, and said, "Yes, yes, we know that part already."

    "You do!? How!?"

    "That's unimportant. It looked as if you were in a rush so let’s skip to why you were doing what you were doing."

    "Fine."

    Olivia inwardly did a fist pump on hearing Guinevere's assent. The raven-haired maid was not too keen on admitting her acts of eavesdropping. Though I could blame Hannah by saying I heard it from her. Hannah herself glared at Olivia for the briefest of moments, as if she had heard the head maid's thoughts. Olivia decided that there was no possibility of framing Hannah.

    Guinevere explained the commotion across town about how someone finally freed the sword from the stone, how she found Arthur lying on the ground with the sword in hand, then how she brought him to an inn and left him there to get supplies so they could leave town. The two maids nodded repeatedly during her explanation, showing that they were in fact listening.
     
    Last edited: Apr 28, 2019
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  12. Sobac

    Sobac New Member

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    Wow, that looks interesting :D
     
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  13. Silver Snake

    Silver Snake Magician of NUF|Show-off|Awkward|Genius

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    After her tale was over Hannah could not help but exclaim, "Are you crazy!? Eloping with a boy you've only just met and with what!? The clothes on your back and a sack of fineries?!"

    “Now, now, calm down.”
    “But, Olivia!” said Hannah.

    In the middle of saying, "Thank y—" Guinevere was cut off by the raven-haired maid who slammed her hands down on the dresser counter. She then shouted, "And the bandits! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there!? Why it's practically crawling with them outside every city! And don't think you're safe in towns either! There are pickpockets and con-artists all around! And those tiny idyllic villages where it seems like not even a fly could be hurt, why-why, they'll wait until you fall asleep and then deep in the night they'll-they'll - "

    "Jesus Christ, Olivia, stop!" interrupted Hannah, shaking her out of it.

    Olivia thought about what she just did.

    Seeing that she may have gone overboard Olivia untangled her frazzled and bunched up hair back into the pristine ponytail it had originally been and straightened her glasses that had almost flung off during her tirade and said, "Perhaps I went too far."

    Shocked, Guinevere accused incredulously, "Perhaps?!"

    "Point taken. But it is dangerous out there. You do not know what it's like, nor are you prepared."

    "What do you expect me to do? I couldn't just leave him when he was down. And I still won’t!"

    "Now, now, no one said anything about leaving anyone. You ought to think about it more and discuss it with us."

    Hannah said, "Um, about that boy, Lord Leodegrance sorta put out a manhunt on him, aaand it sounded like he wanted him to succeed the throne."

    "What!?" exclaimed Guinevere and Olivia simultaneously.

    * * *​

    Back at the inn, Arthur was mindlessly swinging his legs back and forth as he sat on the bed of his inn. He thought about how filled with energy he has, how he had never felt this restless in his entire life. Back at the farm he always worked and worked all day, and soon after freeing the sword, he was even more tired than he’d ever been before. But now? Now he felt absolutely ready to burst if he didn't do anything for one more moment. By bouncing his backside on the bed, he launched himself onto his feet .

    As if in response to his landing, a knocking came from his inn door. Guinevere?

    Arthur opened the door. Who met him was not her, but instead a cloaked maid with short dark blond hair and a face that struck him as extremely mischievous. She held a basket in her left arm.

    Hannah read the confusion on his face and said, "Sorry I'm not Guin, I'm her maid Hannah."

    Arthur simply stared at her. Hannah waited in silence.

    Why isn't she saying anymore, thought Arthur, and then he suddenly realized and said, "Ah, I'm Arthur."

    "Right." Hannah made her way into the room, surprising Arthur who then stepped aside and closed the door.

    Hannah continued, "Okay, you should probably already know this but I'll explain it just in case, that sword is a big deal," she pointed to the sword that laid against the nightstand beside the bed, " like a really, really big deal. People are looking for you, some are even well-trained—people who are paid to find people, and I'm guessing you don't want to be caught, so wrap this around the sword and put this on, " Hannah threw from her basket a black scarf-like cloth and a brown cloak, "We need to leave this inn as soon as we can. Let's go."

    "Wait, wait, wait! Can't I get a little more explanation?"

    "We'll walk and talk."

    Arthur and Hannah were walking in the streets of Camelot. The time was twilight. There was not much in terms of crowds. Stall owners were packing it up. Arthur held a cloth-wrapped Excalibur and had the hood of his cloak pulled over his head.

    Hannah said, "Lord Leodegrance wants to put you on the throne, to declare you king."

    "What!? Why!?” exclaimed Arthur.

    "Not so loud!" hissed Hannah.

    "Sorry. But why would he do that?"

    "It was something about the power balance between the church and crown. And didn't you see the inscription on that sword of yours?"

    Arthur shrugged and said, "Can't read."

    "Right, of course, most commoners aren’t taught to read. It says, 'Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone, is rightwise king born'."

    "And what's that mean? It's not like I'm the long lost son of some royal lineage. My ma and pa were both peasants."

    "It doesn't matter what it literally means. What matters is that the people will accept you as king since the legend said so."

    "That sounds... kind of dumb."

    "Yeah, it does, but people love legends. It gives them hope."

    "I guess that's true too."

    "So... what do you want to do? Do you want to be king?"

    "Me? I don't know. I’d like to be happy." Arthur thought of being with Guinevere when he imagined what happiness meant to him. "Do people need a king?"

    Hannah thought about it.

    "I don't think so. As you can see, our province is pretty successful. The poor district isn't all that poor. The nobles aren't too wasteful with their funds, sharing a fair sum for charities and public needs. And the common people are happy; maybe a little bored. But being bored isn't too bad when you consider the alternatives like war or famine. No, I think we're fine. Though I'm not sure how it is in the other places around the world."

    "Do you think I could help people? I mean, if I wanted to."

    "You can't think about it like that. The people who look like they need the most help usually don't want it. If you really want to help people then you have to make them want to help themselves."

    "How am I supposed to do that?"

    "Beats me. We're here."

    Hannah and Arthur were in front of some wood boards in front of a stone wall that was behind a building. The maid moved over the boards and slid open a stone door ensconced in the wall. What they found was a stairway that lead down underground. The two walked in. Hanna put back the boards, closed the door behind them, pulled out from her basket a lantern, flint, and steel; lit the candle in the lantern and continued down the stairs with it held high. Arthur didn't like how cramped the way looked or how it got darker the deeper down you looked, but he could hardly protest with the maid carelessly going on ahead of him.

    What met them at the bottom of the stairs was a wood-planked door. Hannah knocked on the door with at first two quick knocks, then one knock and lastly two quick ones again. The door was pulled open, and the person standing in the doorway was none other than Guinevere. At the sight of Arthur, she ran up to him with a big hug. Arthur was at first surprised to see her here. He then grinned a foolish, full grin, and said, "You didn't have to worry about me."

    "Shut up. When I left you, you were barely conscious. And my dad's basically put out a manhunt for you. Of course, I was worried."

    "He did what?!"

    Hannah said, "Oh, yeah, I guess I should have mentioned that. Well, I did say people were looking for you! Though I didn't exactly say why..." Hannah shrugged and gave a half grin as a half apology.

    The raven-haired maid Olivia walked up to the door entrance with a tray of teacups in hand and said, "You always were forgetful. No, that's not the right word. Blithe! That's it." Satisfied, Olivia smiled.

    "Oh, whatever, I got him here in one piece, didn't I?"

    "Yes, yes, well done. Tea?"

    "Later, let's get inside first."
     
    Last edited: Apr 26, 2019
  14. Silver Snake

    Silver Snake Magician of NUF|Show-off|Awkward|Genius

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    Lord Leodegrance was standing in front of Guinevere's room. It’d been some time since he’d last spent time with his daughter, as his work’s been busy in the last few years, what with trade negotiations, entrance applications, and political fraternization; he had quite the full plate. And whenever he did seem to make time, Guinevere herself would be busy with her lessons. And since they've not seen each other lately, they could hardly get together to schedule something.

    One of the maids had inquired to him about Guinevere. He couldn't quite remember the specifics or which maid it was—he was so absorbed in his paperwork. He remembered answering in a short, affirming way—the mindless, automatic way people answer when they are busy with something, all so they can go back to what they were doing as soon as they could—and the maid replying in a calm yet furious tone—the tone that woman use when they are angry but know better than to show it. It was the head maid! thought Lord Leodegrance in triumph. He didn't know them by their names, as he tended to do most things himself, except for his meals and the occasional cup of tea. He thought of them not as people but as servants, as objects or tools, like a fork. But he did notice once or twice while passing by, one maid scolding the other maids—a maid with large round glasses, and a ponytail.

    Lord Leodegrance was a prideful man, and seeing his failings toward his only daughter shamed him no small amount. Yes, tonight he would make up for it! He raised a hand to knock on her door when a guard turned a corner, ran up to him, bowed so quickly that he nearly tripped, and said, "We found him!"

    "Where?"

    "Here."

    "Here?"

    "Yes, my lord, at the front gate."

    * * *​

    Arthur was standing in front of the gate of Lord Leodegrance's Manor, holding the still clothed Excalibur as casually as a kid would hold a stick they found on the sidewalk.

    * * *​

    Arthur had just entered the secret underground shelter where he reunited with Guinevere. Inside was a clean, well-decorated room that had a doorway leading to a hall where dried meets and preserved fruits were stored. The room itself was by no means large, but it wasn't cramped either; it was perfectly comfortable for four people to lounge around in and not get terribly bothered by each other's company. Over the lavish rug that covered most of the floor were upholstered chairs and small, round tables. On one wall there was a shelf of books. In each corner of the room was a sconce with a lit candle. Yes, with the pleasant furnishing, this place that would normally look like a dungeon seemed no different from a room in a mansion.

    Guinevere and Olivia were having a heavy conversation about what they would do and how they would do it. And Hannah was sipping a cup of tea, picking up the occasional cookie, munching on it, and turning a page of the book she was reading. As a maid, she barely ever had free time, so she knew well how she would relish every second of it. Arthur wasn't sure what to do. He tried sitting in one of the chairs. He thought it was very soft, but also that it was perhaps too soft, as if he were falling through it. He tried picking out one of the books on the bookshelves, but in the middle of pulling one out, he recalled he didn't know how to read, so he slid the book back into place.

    He then said to no one in particular or perhaps to everyone in the room, "I think I want to be king." Arthur had a voice that carried, so although the two were so engaged in conversation, they heard him perfectly, ceased talking and turned to him. Hannah stopped reading, peaked her head out from her book, and looked at him as well. All of them with a face that asked if they heard right. Guinevere was the first to speak, asking, "Why?"

    Why do I want to be king? thought Arthur. It's not as if I have any right to be king. I’m nobody. But even so, I want to take it, this chance.

    "I'm not sure. I have a good feeling about it. A really good feeling."

    The three looked at him as if he was speaking gibberish, he continued, "And I have a bad feeling about trying to run away. If we do, they'll keep on looking. And it's probably hard out there. I don't know how we'd survive or what could happen. I don't think I could do that to you." Arthur looked at Guinevere.

    She said, "I want this."

    "And I do too. But if there's a better way then I have to take it. I want to protect you."

    "I don't need it."

    "Is it wrong for me to want to?"

    “...”

    "And it's not just that. I do want to be king. I want to see what I can do, if I can do anything." Arthur looked at the wrapped Excalibur and gripped it tight, thinking all the worth he had was held in it. I am more than this sword.

    * * *​

    Standing in front of Lord Leodegrance's gate, Arthur gripped the sword again, thinking the same thought again, as if to steel himself. The time was late, so most of the lights in town were out. All except for the watchtowers and gates. There the night watchmen were to keep guard.

    The one that was in charge of Lord Leodegrance's gate eyed Arthur suspiciously. As Arthur came into the glow of the gate's lanterns the gatekeeper said to him, "Halt, remove your hood and state your business." Arthur removed his hood.

    At the sight of him, the gatekeeper couldn't help but think he'd seen his face before. Yes, he was sure of it. The gatekeeper leaned back in his chair as he went deeper into thought, and there on the wall of his tiny guardsman's cubicle was a poster with Arthur's face sketched on it. The poster had only been made today, passed out on the hour before midday, so the gatekeeper had yet to fully commit it to memory. On seeing the poster the gatekeeper thought that he must be mistaken. There's no way someone being hunted would walk right into the lion's den! So his eyes darted back at Arthur, then back at the poster. His eyes widened in confirmation.

    He leaped out of his chair, knocking it over, fumbled his way out of his guardsman's cubicle and sprinted straight toward Lord Leodegrance's manor, not minding the path and trampling through the carefully cultivated grass.

    After a few minutes, Arthur could see a tall, strong man with sharp features and what seemed to be a permanent glare marching toward him. He too wore a cloak, but his was without a hood and with a collar, scarlet red, and along the edges of it were intricately embroidered golden patterns. He had boots that were fit for the highest of mountain climbs. And over his perfectly white shirt was a dark blue gambeson.

    Behind him were two guards, one of them the gatekeeper. Lord Leodegrance stopped in front of the gate and ordered the guards to open it. They did so. He stared at Arthur, appraising him. Arthur didn't like the overbearing feeling so he said, "I heard you've been looking for me." Lord Leodegrance was annoyed at the cocky, self-assured way Arthur spoke, and said, "Yes. Yes, I have."

    "Why?"

    "You pulled the sword from the stone, did you not?"

    "That's what they kept shouting."

    "Did you or did you not?"

    Arthur unfurled the cloth from Excalibur and held the sword up high, allowing the black cloth to wave and flutter in the cool night wind. "I did."

    "And the legend, the prophecy inscribed on the blade of the sword, you know of it as well?"

    "I do."

    "Then it is clear, is it not?"

    "Not even a little."

    "Then I will say it clearly: I wish for you to take the crown. But every king needs a castle, and sadly, there is none here. So you will have to reclaim the hollow halls of Castle Pendragon, up to the north."

    "Why me?"

    "Don't ask me; ask the sword."

    Arthur looked back at Excalibur, doubtful of if it had chosen correctly.
     
    Last edited: Apr 26, 2019
  15. Silver Snake

    Silver Snake Magician of NUF|Show-off|Awkward|Genius

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    The sun was high, and the cloudless sky allowed the rays of heat to assail them. Griffith and his men traveled on horseback for three days. They were heading east, to the city of Orenewt. Luckily, none of them wore armor, for they were not off to war but merely in search of a single man; Arthur - the bearer of Excalibur. Griffith had reasoned that the farm boy must've already left Camelot. And Orenewt was the nearest city.

    The road was empty, looking forward or back on that dusty dirt trail would lead to nothing but more road. To their right and left after a long stretch of grass were trees and bushes that made up forests. Yesterday, some animal got into the troop's supplies. Griffith decided to buy more as soon as he could.

    After a little while, they drew near a village. Three streets split into the town and led back to the main road at the opposite side. The first thing the men did was go off to find the well. There they would refill their waterskins. Then they’d find an inn where they could rest their sore asses and their horses. There were only five of them so it should not have been too much of a task. Griffith looked for the village head's house so he could get permission to look for Arthur in every inch of the town. He didn't really need permission since it was on order from the Lord of the land, but asking was a more civilized way of doing things.

    After they finished their searching and questioning of the villagers of if they had seen a boy of Arthur's description wielding a sword, Griffith went to the town's inn and asked the innkeeper if he could purchase some provisions. But he replied, "I'm sorry. I can't. The yield has not been good. And we still need to think about our offering to the church. But I'll still sell you and your men as many meals as they can eat."

    "No problem, thank you." Griffith was lying. It was a problem. As things were, they wouldn't have enough food to make it to Orenewt. Griffith and his men would have to hunt. And if the hunting grounds were not plentiful, they’d need a third option. "How many rooms do you have available?"

    * * *​

    After a good night's rest and breakfast, Griffith and his men continued east. In a couple of hours, they met with a farm. It wasn't as extensive as the one in Camelot, which surrounded and spread out from the city. There were 6 fields of corn; 2 empty, 2 were still sprouting, and 2 with crops ripe for harvest. Or it should have been, but a large chunk of it looked as if it had have been bitten out by a giant. Griffith and his men couldn't see this, though. The chunk of empty crops started on the forest side of the farm, and Griffith's men rode on the road, where more crops of corn obfuscated the empty part.

    They weren't going to rest here; one of them would look around the farmer's house and barn and then they would simply ride on once they realized they had little to accomplish in this place. But on seeing Griffith's troop, a farmer of middle years, hurriedly and haphazardly hobbled in front of them. Griffith and his men were barely able to halt their horses in time to not run him over. One of Griffith's men exploded, "Good god, man, what's wrong with you!?"

    "I'm sorry, good men, but I've been sending pleas for help for weeks, but I’ve gotten no response. Please, you must hear me out!"

    "We don't have to - " Griffith interrupted his subordinates scornful remark, saying, "Let's hear him out."

    The farmer, Parker, went on. One night he was relaxing on the porch, sitting in his rocking chair, with his trusty golden retriever Hopper lying beneath his feet. All of a sudden, Hopper started a barking fit. He'd never seen him act like that before. Sure, sometimes when a stranger would near the house, Hopper would give a low, warning growl, but he’d never start barking as loud as he could without end. Parker was worried, more worried than he'd been in a long time. He wasn't sure why. But some part of him knew it best to trust an animal's instinct at times like these.

    Parker grabbed a pitchfork that was leaning against his house and went in the direction Hopper's nose was pointing, in the direction of the ripe crops of corn. As he got closer, he started hearing a wild sifting between the tall corn stocks, and quick tearings and crackings through ears of corn.

    The farmer wanted to step back, to run back in his house, block the door, and hide there until morning, where, by then, he hoped whatever the thing was to be long gone. But he didn't. As a farmer, his crops were the same as his coins. In his mind, stealing his crops was the same as robbing him. And even if he could spare a little, he could not allow the insult of someone stealing what was rightfully his, and certainly not while he was watching. Parker stepped closer, between the corn stocks, where a circle of dirt lay where corn once stood, and in the center of it a hairy, skinny creature with long arms and legs, and on the ends of those were claws that shined in the moonlight, so sharp that they looked as if they could cut you by only looking. Its hair was a foot long, black, and covered its body all over. Its head twisted like an owl, immediately after the farmer stepped in the dirt circle. Its head had no eyes, where its nose should have been were two holes, and its slit mouth covered half its face, revealing an innumerable amount of teeth even sharper than its claws.

    Parker was frozen. His mind could not process what it was he was seeing. He could not believe what he was seeing. The creature stood, growing taller than the farmer by 3 or 4 heads, and lurched toward him, smiling a sinister, toothy smile. Parker still could not move. But more than anything, he wanted to. The creature's head bent down to meet his, breathing its stench into his face. Parker could only stare as the creature's mouth gaped. What he saw was horror, complete and utter in every way, as he imagined the creature snapping its jaws shut over his head. Something leaped onto the creature. It was Hopper, he was biting down on the creature's neck. Parker regained his senses. He ran away.

    But after a few moments of running, he realized something: he could no longer hear Hopper's barks or growls, that he could not believe what he just did. He left his trusty Hopper! Parker ran back. But when he got back to that circle of dirt where corn once stood, he saw nothing. It was as if the creature was never there, as if Hopper never was. And thus the farmer's tale ended.

    "What a load of nonsense! It was probably just a bear or wolf." said one of Griffith’s subordinates.

    "Wait, please! Please help me find my hopper!" said Parker.

    "I'm sorry. We're already looking for someone." said Griffith.

    And so, Griffith's party left the farm.
     
    Last edited: Apr 26, 2019
  16. Solkage

    Solkage Well-Known Member

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    The story is promising and overall tension is great. However some parts too long-winded and wordy thus disrupts the story flow.

    Eg
    The road was empty, looking forward or back on that dusty dirt trail would lead to nothing but more road. To the side of the road was grass. To their right and left after a long stretch of grass were trees and bushes that made up forests.
     
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  17. Silver Snake

    Silver Snake Magician of NUF|Show-off|Awkward|Genius

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    I agree with you. But I also think that I have to set a scene to some degree. And I try to do it as little as I have to. That chapter was a bit of an experiment for me where I tried a slower pace that built to something more. Where usually I would start off at a fast pace and continue at the same speed.

    Chapters like The Inn and The Farm will definitely not be regular. They're more for world building or giving information. I felt I needed to describe the appearance of the sword but was unable to do that in the high-speed scenario of the chapter where it actually appeared, so I did it later. And I wanted to show that there were monsters in the world without any of the main characters directly encountering one. I felt that was the best way to do it.

    Chapters like that are the exception and not the rule. The next couple of chapters will continue at the usual faster pace.

    Thank you for expressing your interest. It encourages me a lot.
     
  18. Silver Snake

    Silver Snake Magician of NUF|Show-off|Awkward|Genius

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    In the main street of Camelot, much merrymaking was underway. This was because of the parade being held, announcing the man to become King—Arthur Pendragon. He himself was mounted on a white steed which was equipped with a golden yellow barding on its body—a fabric draped over the horse with tassels hanging from its ends; opulent and tapestry-like in its appearance—and a leather chanfron that had a bright scarlet plume feather protruding from the horse's forehead. He smiled and waved as he was told. Everyone was looking at him, eyes beaming. Never before did he have the attention of such a crowd. Arthur decided he didn't like the feeling.

    Leading the procession were two bannermen on horseback, hoisting high the symbol of Camelot—a profile of a lion. Behind them was Arthur and behind him was a band of troubadours, blowing on trumpets that sang a triumphant melody. And strewn throughout it all were pedal tossers, allowing not a second to pass that was without raining confetti. On the sides of the streets were food stalls and the cheering masses. Long had it been since the sword lay in the stone, long had it been since the people expected a king to free the sword. They had good reason to cheer as loudly as they did. There would be a king, someone to lead them. And he was a peasant like them! Surely he would be a kind and just ruler. Everyone was hollering their joys and bustling for a better sight of the man who would be king.

    All except for one. Guinevere was in the crowd. She did not smile. Not once. For she knew what it would mean. Arthur would leave. Guinevere wanted to be angry at Arthur, for choosing the fame and fortune of the crown over a life on the road with her, for leaving her. But she couldn't be angry, she knew his reason was not for something like that. But she still wanted to be angry, so she decided to be angry at the fact that she could not be angry.

    Then she recalled his declaration. And thought it only fair to be allowed to choose one’s own destiny. This was his choice. She only wished that she could go with him, knowing that she could not.

    After the parade had passed, Guinevere returned to her room, falling face first onto her bed, feeling terribly gloomy. She didn't like the feeling. As a child she was always energetic, stealing sweets when no one was looking, and laughing freakishly while the cook, who would eventually catch her in the act, chased her.

    Guinevere was unaccustomed to the feeling of gloom, of not wanting to do anything but let the world pass by in front of her, thinking, good riddance. What good was a world that would allow such unhappiness?

    She wanted almost more than anything for this gloom to go away, to go back to confidently bullseyeing her targets during her archery lessons, to racing her mare Daffodil against her instructor who would always plead for her to slow down. Almost more than anything. She wanted to go with Arthur more.

    This was when Olivia entered her room. Guinevere didn't hear a knock, but she didn't suppose she would care if she did.

    "Is this how a lady should be conducting herself? Lying about her bed in the middle of the day like a corpse?"

    "I wish I was dead."

    "Why would you say such a thing?"

    Guinevere said nothing for a short while. Then said, "I want to go with him."

    Before even asking, Olivia knew the reason behind the young mistress's distress. And she knew what she would have to say, and how much she would hate to say it. Readying her heart, she sat down next to her and said,

    "Then go."

    "But I can't. Father would never allow it. And if I tried running away, he would chase me to the ends of the earth as soon as he could."

    "You give up too quickly, my girl. If you did sneak off, it would take at least a week for him to notice you were gone; you know how busy he is. It would perhaps be even longer if the servants made up excuses for your whereabouts."

    Guinevere raised her head up, looked at the maid and asked, "What are you saying?"

    "I believe you know perfectly well."

    * * *​

    Camelot's north entrance. Arthur was checking the tightness of his horse's saddle girth and the bands that secured his supplies over the horse's rear, along with a handful of other soldiers that were doing similar tasks. He and the soldiers were told that their quest was to reclaim Castle Pendragon. They weren't told any more and they didn't ask for any more, as the job seemed a simple one - to continue north until they found the castle. They didn't ask why a castle and the land surrounding it would be left empty in the first place; in the days to come, Arthur would wish they had.

    After about half an hour on the road, Arthur heard the pounding of hooves on the trail behind. He turned around to find a cloaked figure with a bow slung across their chest. The figure seemed to be heading straight for them, showing no signs of slowing. The soldiers were unsheathing their swords when Arthur held his hand up haltingly, saying, "Wait." The soldiers lowered their blades, but they did not put them away.

    Arthur narrowed his eyes in hopes of divining the identity of the approaching horseman. He said, "Guinevere?"

    Guinevere pulled hard on her horse's reins, halting it in a skid across the dirt and producing small dust clouds. She lowered her hood and said casually, "Hey, Arthur. I'm coming with."

    A dozen thoughts raced through Arthur's head. But he could only articulate, "Wait. What? How? When?"

    Guinevere explained to him the plan that she and Olivia had devised.

    "Think your dad'ill be pissed?"

    "Oh beyond compare."

    Arthur turned to look at the soldiers behind him, wondering if any of them would drag her back to the mansion, or flee back to tell the Lord of the manor. But none of them made a move. They had their heads turned to the side as if they had no part in it. All of the soldiers feared the tirades Lord Leodegrance was known for. None of them wanted to be the one to give him the news. And they were already a ways away from the city. Surely he wouldn't blame them for doing nothing in such a situation, right?

    And so, Arther and Guinevere were off to Castle Pendragon.
     
    Last edited: Apr 26, 2019