Dark Glory Risen
As the world darkens, the Knights of the Round Table rise once more.
The glory of Camelot has fallen to near ruin since the passing of His Excellence, King Arthur. |
The lands were ravaged by war and factions only interested in their own gain.
Villages were burned. Crops were taken and destroyed. Thousands were killed.
And when the warring storm was over, the few sturdy survivors that remained rebuilt.
Their morale, however, was lost forever.
Loyal stewards took over the throne in the hope they could return Camelot to its former majesty.
However, as the generations passed, so did their sense of righteousness.
The stewards became tyrannical in their rule, and the people grew to fear them.
Soon, all the people could do was hope for a just ruler to come and help them.
The decaying walls of this once great kingdom no longer rang with its great tales of old.
King Arthur, Merlin, Queen Guenevere, and the Knights of the Round Table had all fallen to a forgotten myth.
In this time of darkness, there seemed to be no hope for survival...
Until, one day, a servant girl finds a journal recounting the Knights of the Round Table and how they defended Camelot with not only their lives but their honor.
It begins... the rise of the new Knights of the Round Table.
Code of the Knights
1) First Entry = Bio. Please provide a picture of your character as well. Just a link will do.
Also, in your first bio also create a second character of the court that will become a CC for everyone to write.
2) No excessive blood, cursing, or over-amorous overtures. Try to be respectful of all writers.
3) No God/Mod-ing, please. If you want to add something big to the story, drop me an email first.
4) Add within a week. Sooner, if you can.
5) On your honor - have fun!
Garrett ~ written by: Wiskers
Caius ~ written by: Lonewolf
Emeline ~ written by: Ali ~ novel planning
Gwenora ~ written by: LdyPhoenix
~ written by:
~ written by:
Court (community characters)
Duchess Sioned ~ created by: LdyPhoenix
Addison Bayard ~ created by: Wiskers
Giselle Gideon ~ created by: Lonewolf
Lief Ballard ~ created by: Ali ~ novel planning
~ created by:
~ created by:
Name: Sioned (sho.ned) of Silverfalls [distant cousin of King Arthur]
Description: She stands tall, over 5'10''. Her hair is golden and hangs in long waves down her back. She has porcelain skin and crystalline blue eyes. She is elegant in presence, but fierce when she is protective. Before she became ruler after her uncle's untimely death, she favored white, grey, and silver in clothing. Now, she wears only shades of blue.
Personality: She is one of strong will and determination. Fairness in actions, morality, and thought are her main objectives. Sioned believes that Camelot can be given new life if the people can unite under one ruler that they believe in and would give their life for. Now that she holds the title of ruler, she wants her people to invest in what the kingdom once was, most importantly, the Round Table. Of these goals, she will not be dissuaded by others' agendas, even if she's wrong.
Rank: Lady's maid, one of Sionedís personal thirteen.
Description: Gwenora has mahogany brown hair, always tied back in a formal braid as it dictated by court. She has olive skin and her eyes are a rich golden brown. There are calluses on her hands from heavy work and sword practice; the latter she does on her off time with her brothers. There is a small scar over her left eyebrow. Her attire is made exclusively in greys and brown, that of ladies-in-waiting.
Personality: She often goes unnoticed, performing her lady's duties without being commanded. She is not one to chat besides a note of wit, however, she has come to love reading, stealing away to the royal library whenever there is a chance. While her family has long been on the poorer side of things, there has always been talk of revival and legend in her home. Gwenora silently clings to a day where she can do as she desires, and dreams of what Camelot once was.
Name: Addison Bayard
Rank: Royal blacksmith (also one of the oldest remaining members of the court)
Description: Addison is of a stock build, his arms strong from years of hard work. He has one blue eye, and one white (he was blinded in a smithing accident many years ago). He has a full head of course grey hair peppered with white, and a nice full beard as well. Is usually seen in his smithing apron, though of course he dresses for occasion.
Personality: Polite when needed, most often gruff. He doesn't have much patience for youth, but enjoys giving advice. And as one of the eldest member of the court, people often come to him with questions of times of old. He believes strongly in the ethic of hard work, and though he doesn't do much smithing himself these days, he derives great pleasure from hounding his apprentice.
Rank: Blacksmith apprentice/fletcher (Is really more like an indentured servant)
Description: 6'2", and very fit. He has dark, dark brown hair that often passes as black, and cool grey eyes. Black has seemed to become his signature color, and most of his clothes are as such. Has two long scars down his back, although he never talks about them.
Personality: Quiet and brooding, Garrett doesn't much talk to anyone. If anyone bothers him he usually just gives them a certain look that makes them leave fairly quickly. Besides, of course, his proficiency with bow and arrow. Garrett is related to one of the families that aided in the quick and brutal destruction of the then kingless Camelot, and is not really trusted by anyone.
Name: Giselle Gideon
Rank: Grand Duchess
Description: Silver mane that flows to the middle of her back, striking brown calculating eyes, when she enters a room everyone can feel her presence. She came into power of the Gideon estate after the untimely death of her husband Albert and since she wears nothing but the best fashion available.
Personality: Giselle grew up in the street with nothing to her name what so ever, she made a vow she would not return to such a beginning and remembers that time in her life with great distaste. She is a hard woman to know and a woman who trusts no one except Caius.
Rank: Adopted son of Giselle Gideon/Personal Guard to Giselle Gideon
Description: Lean, strong build with honey colored eyes that burn fiercely when anger takes control. Caius has hair that comes to his shoulders and occasionally obscures his vision. Standing tall at 6í2 he can be usually seen wearing something cool and relaxing when on his free time; while guarding Giselle he wears anything that will allow him to blend into the background, usually something dark. There is a scar on his upper shoulder blade that he doesnít talk about but is said to have something to do with his father.
Personality: Caius is an easy going kind of guy that is loyal beyond measure to Giselle for reasons only he and Giselle know; although he does not always agree with her, he is always there ready to lay his life down for her should the occasion arise. He is somewhat of a ladies man, but there is only one woman he wants; however she wonít give him the time of day. He is not one to back down from a challenge especially when it benefits him. He is more of a proactive kind of guy who likes to work for what he gets above all else.
Name: Lief Ballard
Rank: Royal Stable Master
Description: Tall and strong, Lief has worked hard all his life and it shows in his calloused hands and thick muscles. His brown hair falls in soft curls, and frames the strong angles of his jaw, highlighting warm chocolate eyes. His chin is covered in a short beard, that is starting to turn silver. He always dresses in riding gear, unless he is forced to clean up and report to the castle. His clothes and hair smell of oiled leather and sweet hay, even after he has washed away the smells of the stables.
Personality: Lief was married at 19 but his wife died of Cholera two years later, before she had the opportunity to bear him children. The next five years of his life passed by in a haze; he buried himself in his work and his only clear memories of that time are of aching sadness and the horses. When he was 26, a two year old girl was abandoned and left in the stables. He took her in as his own, naming her Emeline. Emeline brought light into his life for the first time in five years, and his broken heart was finally allowed to mend. Lief gets along better with animals then he does with people. He is short spoken, and gruff when dealing with most people, but his heart is in the right place. He's an honest man, and anyone who knows him can read his thoughts and emotions in his eyes.
Name: Emeline Ballard
Rank: Royal Stable Hand
Description: Straight chestnut hair sheets down Emeline's back, the ends fluttering just around her waist. She is short at only 5;3 and thin, but her petite figure belies her true strength; she has the toned body of a regular horseback rider, coupled with the hard work of tending the stables. Her bright eyes are usually twinkling with laughter, and there is usually a lazy smile playing on her lips. When she works, she ties her hair up in a bun, and has no fear of getting dirty. She usually dresses in leather breaches and white linen shirts when riding, but she has a few dresses put aside for those rare times when she has to visit the Castle.
Personality: Emeline grew up in the stables, following her adoptive father around while he worked. She quickly developed a skill for riding as well as for tending and understanding the horses. Some were hesitant to allow a woman to work as a hand in the royal stables, but her skill - and the arguments of her father - eventually convinced all those who stood in her way. Emeline is strong and stubborn and never afraid to stand up for those that she loves. She cherishes the horses, as much as she cherishes human life, and is loath to let anything hurt them. Growing up surrounded by men, has made her strong of opinion, quick to speak her mind, and sometimes a bit brash. She never shies away from a challenge, and often trains in sword fighting with the other stable hands or with her father. She has learned how to use her small size and quickness to her advantage. Emeline's motto is that she can do anything a man can do, and do it better.
|He woke up in pain, the thin sheet that covered his straw bed was drenched in sweat. Garrett forced himself to breathe slowly, and quiet his racing heart. He glanced through the small hole in his roof at as a distraction, the room was stifling. It was almost dawn. As he lay there, the pain in his shoulder and back seared, stung, and finally lessened to a low throbbing. |
Garrett heaved himself upright with some difficulty, and waited to make sure the pain was gone. As he slid his legs off the hard bed, the cold floor underneath his feet sent an unexpectedly pleasant chill up his spine. He splashed cool water on his face, neck, and over his shoulder. Cautiously, Garrett reached an arm behind himself and lightly caressed one of the scars that stretched across his entire back. He'd received his wounds some time ago, but like his tarnished name they refused to heal.
Garrett dressed quickly, shirt, pants, boots; he went through the morning ritual without much thinking. He padded through the small building silently, trying not to wake Addison, and after grabbing a piece of hard bread from the pantry he lit the fire and began tending the forge. The chill of being outside disappeared almost immediately and he dreaded the rising sun. Working the forge during the middle of the day was a miserable business indeed.
An hour later Addison emerged from the smithy's interior, cracked leather apron strapped tightly over his pleasantly sized belly. He'd once said that he'd had the apron his entire career and intended to be buried with it. As Garrett cut tanned leather into strips, Addison checked the fire and the swords awaiting delivery without a word. Finally he stretched his back and gazed with his one good eye at the clouds above them.
"Looks as if it might rain." He observed.
"Would be nice." Garrett cut another strip quickly with his knife.
"Not if it ruined our work." Addison remarked sharply.
"We do have a roof."
Garrett's smile survived the smack to the head Addison gave him.
As they worked, the town came to life before their eyes. Many people rose just before dawn, and by mid-morning were off running their chores. Bartering, selling, meeting, heckling. A few people stopped at the smithy with requests and orders. Addison handled the people, Garrett handled the metal.
Garrett looked up from the sword he was hammering out to see a rather slight girl standing in front of him. He'd seen her before, she lived somewhere outside the castle walls.
"My father put in an order for new horseshoes and was told they should be ready today."
Addison turned away from his customer for a moment.
"Ah, Emeline. How is your father?"
"He's well." Emeline smiled. "We've been anxious for the new shoes, they treat our horses well."
"That's why you don't buy from other blacksmiths." Addison turned to bark at Garrett. "The shoes are in the back, boy, fetch them."
Garrett slid the sword back into the sweltering forge and went to retrieve the horseshoes. He found them tied together in two lines with cord, hidden behind a bag of sand. When he returned, Addison was back conversing with the customer once more and Emeline was waiting.
As he set them down on one of the small wooden counters before her, she looked them over with obvious satisfaction.
"Do you need me to carry them for you?" He asked.
"Hardly." Emeline slung them over her shoulders.
"They'll get heavy fast if you have a ways to go." He said.
"I can handle it." Emeline's countenance now took on elements of playfulness and something to prove. "Tell Addison thanks."
After adjusting her hold on the cords once, she walked on and soon disappeared into the crowds.
Addison, finished with his customer, grabbed a sword he'd been working on for two weeks, covered in cloth. He didn't do much smithing these days, but on some projects he refused assistance. Garrett hadn't even seen the sword.
"Boy, take this to the castle." Addison handed the bundle to Garrett.
Garrett untied the cloth and let it fall to the dirt floor, revealing a magnificent sword. It was perfectly balanced, shining metal; beautiful.
"Your hands forged it, it should remain in them until it reaches its owner." Garrett said, trying to hand it back.
"Yes well these hands are also old." Addison snapped, and slammed his palms on the table. "I am unfit -" he paused, "- to enter the castle as of this moment. Will you obey me?"
"Good." Addison wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, then retrieved the sheath - black leather with silver designs.
"It's for Caius, the Grand Duchess ordered it." Addison continued. "One of my best works, if I do say so myself."
"I have never seen a sword like it." Garrett replied, quietly.
"Yes, well it is going to begin to rust if you tarry any longer. Off with you."
Garrett slid the sword into it's sheath and strapped it to his belt for the walk to the castle. It felt right. Minutes later, he walked up the stone steps and through the huge oak doors of the Castle Camelot.
Garrett looked up and about him as he walked through the castle. He felt lost in it. The castle was a huge stone structure with delicate arches and breathtaking windows, high towers and deep tunnels. They had rebuilt most of what had been destroyed in the sieges. Though beautiful, it was somehow cold, a bit too empty. If not of people, than of joy. Though Sioned was working hard to improve all of the afore mentioned.
He'd only seen her once before, the new ruler. She carried herself well though he could sense an underlying fear that she surprised through sheer willpower. It was no easy task, ruling. Especially of a kingdom still reeling from turmoil.
"Who are you?" A uniformed guard stepped out of an alcove.
"I work for the blacksmith. I have a delivery, for Caius of Gideon."
"Through that hallway." The guard grunted.
The guard eyed him warily but let him pass. In a way he had become so accustomed to people being distrustful of him that he had ceased looking for it.
Garrett walked the hallway, surprised that it stopped with only one door. Two more guards stood in front, and one opened the door when he repeated his message.
The door open, Garrett stepped into a room he could never have imagined. It was beautiful, and had all the trappings of luxury - rugs, pillows, ornate furniture and mirrors - yet somehow still retained elegance.
The Grand Duchess was seated on an oak chair, conversing with Caius who stood looking out of the window. The conversation ceased when Garrett entered. Caius already had a hand on the hilt of his sword, though lightly.
"Your sword." Garrett unhooked the sword and sheathe from his belt and handed it to Caius.
Caius looked from the sword to Giselle, who simply nodded. Caius unsheathed it, and the metal glinted in the sunlight streaming through the window.
"You had this made for me?" Caius asked her, though he could not tear his eyes away from the sword.
"A gift. I am allowed to give gifts, am I not?" She said.
Garrett could not look away from the sword either. It was the best thing he had ever seen crafted, and though he was not one for jealously, he would have loved to wield it.
Caius sheathed the sword. "I thank you for your gift, Grand Duchess."
"I thought you might like it. Besides," Giselle added, watching Garrett ,"You shall need to the best to protect against the evil of these days."
"Your master crafted this?" Caius asked.
"Yes, my lord." Garrett said. "He's the best blacksmith in Camelot."
"Indeed." Giselle said. "Though sometimes I wonder at his judgement. He takes in a lot of strays."
Giselle stood from her seat, and pulled a small velvet bag of coin out of a drawer. Her satiny dress trailed on the floor as she approached.
"I do hope one does not turn and bite him." Her brown eyes were calculating as she dropped the bag in Garrett's hand.
With that she returned to her seat.
"Do tell Addison we appreciated his work."
"I will, Lady." Garrett bowed.
He had done so well, it almost appeared as if he was feeling no emotion at all. He had practiced this. After he was gone and the doors shut behind him, however, he stalked down the hallway. The Grand Duchess had known his family, more so than she would like to have admitted. Of course, many felt the same. Even he himself -
Not paying close attention to where he was walking, he bumped into someone and sent them reeling, and a book flying out of their hand.
"I'm sorry, my lord." The young woman he had run into hurriedly picked her book back up.
She was slim, with mahogany hair tied in a braid to keep out of her golden brown eyes, and dressed in outfit of one of Sioned's personal maids.
"I'm a blacksmith." Garrett said, trying to calm himself. "And I am sorry for running into you."