This roleplay is rated M for Mature. There will be depictions of violence and bloodshed, gore, distressing/depressing situations, uses of profanity, alcohol, sensual situations and anything regarding the mature theme. Read at your own discretion.
Prologue
The Men of Ma'arn
"How many are they?" asked Percival who stood upon a grassy hill, looking over at a beach. Behind him were a force of a few hundred strong with only small force of knights ready at his side. Down below, the warriors of Ma'arn disembarked their ships as they sailed from the nearby Broken Islands to the shores of Aronshire. He turned towards the scout, a young man not older than his mid twenties who looked at the approaching Ma'arnic warriors with his widened eyes. "This is way more than you said lad,"
The people of Ma'arn lets out a warcry, raising their swords and axes and spears as they organized their own men. Percival looked through the enemy's forces to find the King of Skulls himself but he is nowhere to be seen. Six hundred of them, he estimated. They carry no flags, no sigils upon their armor but only their faces painted or smeared with a black paint. Their eyes told the knight of their eagerness to take what was deep in the lands of Camelot as they roared in anger.
Percival drew his sword from its scabbard, a dark bladed bastard sword with golden ripples ran down its black steel like the surface of water. He saw them charged upon his own forces, "Form shield wall!" His orders met with a collective 'aye!' as a response from his men. Quickly, they stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder as their large shields are big enough to protect themselves. "Spears out!" He ordered. Spears lowered as they locked their shields, waiting in anticipation of the inevitable clash between the two armies.
The warriors of Ma'arn were no match against the might of Camelot steel. The moment the two forces clashed shields, the outcome of the battle has been decided despite the opposing force possesses a larger number than their own. As Percival ordered his cavalry units to flank the army, he began to charge through the lines and tore a bloody path through their ranks with his sword in his hands. He heard the sound of thunder, followed by flashes of white light. Percival looked around to see the bright sky above him and the white clouds that hangs over his head.
It was too late for him to realize that he was struck by a powerful bolt of lightning, throwing him off of his horse and down upon the ground. He gasps for air and as he regained his senses, he was lucky enough to survive the hit. He smelt the scent of smoke coming from the mark where the bolt had struck him, thankfully his armor had dissipated the energy and saved his life. "Magic," he said to himself. Percival stood up and kept a firm grip upon his sword as its blade was engulfed in purplish black flames.
With a single swing of his flaming sword, a large portion of the Ma'arnic warriors bursts into flames, the dark fires emited from Percival's sword began to consume their flesh and armor, tearing apart their skin. Their warcries turned into screams of agony and terror as some decided to run back onto their ships. Yet, as they do, only one man remained. He wore a cloak made of a wolf's fur and his eyes glow, his fingers began to spark and they skies turned dark as if the weather began to change.
Pillars of lightning struck down from the skis above, some managed to hit a significant portion of the Camelot soldiers while others merely missed their targets. But those who were unlucky, were destroyed by the powerful force of lightning. Without a moment to spare, Percival charged through the remaining forces of the Ma'arnic army and approached the sorcerer. The man unleashes a beam of pure lightning towards the knight but Percival's reflexes were too quick as he managed to raise his sword, refracting parts of the beam to his surroundings. The grass beneath his feet were caught in flames because of the magic conjured by the man and yet, Percival began to make his move.
He stepped aside, avoiding the beam entirely as Percival threw his flaming sword like a javelin. It cuts through the air with a blazing speed. One moment, the man was alive and conjuring large amounts of powerful magic to aid him. He was dead at the next, with Percival's dark bladed sword pierced through his throat as he dropped lifeless upon the ground. At that moment, his men erupted into a cheer of victory as they managed to prevail once again in the name of Camelot against the warriors of Ma'arn.
Yet, one thing remained in Percival's mind as his men celebrated their victory. How many more sorcerers are there in Ma'arn? Why do they attack Camelot?
Chapter 1: The Sun And Its Shadows
The city of Camelot
"That's the fourteenth time this month," said Galehaut, a large knight who stood a few heads taller than the average human. Known to many as the Giant Knight or rather...the Short Giant, he was the strongest among the knights of the Round Table and feared by many, but respected by Arthur himself. "Their attacks are getting more frequent," he said, clenching his fist as he leaned forward towards the round table.
"And they have wizards," Percival said, taking off his helm to reveal a rather young man with a solid jawline. He had a jet black hair almost dark as the shadows and his eyes carry the colors of the flames. He puts aside his helm and looked at Galehaut, "That's the first time I see them having a magic user. Who knows how many they have."
"Let's hope it's not too many," Gwayne said, putting his sheathed sword upon the table as he held his own helm in one hand. "The rest of the Round Table are very much occupied with the landings from Ma'arn. We needed to drive them out if we do not wish to see them raiding villages that far inland," he continued. "What do you think Arthur? What should we do?"
Arthur remained silent as he looked at the table. It was carved with the map of the continent itself, complete with the names of several mountain ranges and cities. Then his gaze is set upon the Broken Islands, located west of Camelot itself. "They have established a settlement on one of the islands right?" He asked.
Gwayne nodded and so does the other two knights that were present.
"We take our army there, bring down their walls and burn their buildings. If they build more than a single one, burn every city you can find and impri - "
"Arthur," Gwayne interrupted. His words made him concerned about the king. He turned to Galehaut and Percival whose eyes remained on Arthur's own, remaining silent after hearing what he said.
"It was just a joke, you three." He said, pulling himself away from the table and crossed his arms. "Can't you guys be less serious than usual?"
Bookmarks