Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Arthurian themed - Quests (dormant)

(( OOC comments using double brackets ))

**** Arthurian theme based RP ****

Camelot, the kingdom of dreams and hopes, of prowess, knights and fair damsels, or so it should be... but not any more.

King Conrad has issued a new decree banning magic in all its forms and persecuting any non human creature. Anyone caught having or practising it is to be executed or vanquished, and anyone sheltering them or providing aid is to be imprisoned and sent to slavery, hard labouring at the farms to occupy their time better.

The knights, sworn to follow justice and serve their liege lord are now facing themselves with hard questions, will they obey the king and slaughter the innocent, or will they have to lay down their weapons and surrender their mighty noble sword along with their refusal?

These are tense timings for sure, where one must tread carefully and choose even more wisely in whom one puts their trust.

The day rose like any other in the kingdom of Camelot but the noon announcements that day did not sit well with many commoners. The new edict the king had passed would undoubtedly bring death and hardships to many families, all it would take was one disgruntled neighbour accusing others of sorcery and families would be torn apart, wrecked, and the citizens knew this all too well.

By the time the truth was told or discovered (if ever), the corpses would be buried or burnt, the kinsmen crippled by torture or heavily wounded under the relentless whips at the labouring farms or mines and it made everyone stand at an edge, uneasy. All were trying not to act suspcious yet at the same time, busily passing by, not confiding or talking much with anyone any more, just in case comments were taken out of context.

At the markets, rumours quickly spread, fearful whispers and suspicious looks made the otherwise happy and tranquil city of Camelot, and kingdom as a whole, take a downturn for the worse.

Down at the tavern at the lower end of the city, the knights of the round table, the knights of the realm, had gathered to mutter among themselves about the new dire situation and precarious position they found themselves in.

"To refuse obedience to the new royal decree is akin to high treason, unthinkable on any account" pointed out Sir Tristan.

"And to execute innocent villagers on account of hearsay is righteous?" countered Lancelot shaking his head in disbelief and walking away from his friends, sword to hand to go and vent his anger at the training grounds without a further word said.

Not too far from them, sitting at the table by the darker corner, a furious prince, Merthyr Tydfil, concealed under the guise of a commoner is clearly in defiance and disagreement to the king's new command, talking such matters lowly as to not be overheard and accused of treason against the crown.

"I can't believe it... Taff... I can't believe my father could do such a thing, I find it hard to accept he actually did it! Why would he be so foolish as to declare war on magic ? That will curse the kingdom as a whole, every creature out there is going to be seething for his blood and head" complained the righteous prince going quiet and exiting the tavern to return to his rooms, unseen, escorted by his ever faithful manservant.

It did not take long for things to escalate. Less than two weeks had passed, when a knight called Sir Pettipace had fallen dead at a royal banquet. Most would assume poison, if it weren't for the strange way his body had dissipated into air. Naturally, fingers began pointing immediately.

The banquet had up until that point been going smoothly, aside from the distrustful air of the room - people seemingly unsure of what was safe to say. The music and conversation had filled the room, the smells of food reaching across it. Then there had been a soft sound, like wind blowing through the window, slowly gaining speed and strength. Sir Pettipace hit the oak table, and seemed to wisp away into black smoke.

Mordred had unfortunately been sitting beside Sir Pettipace at the time. The room had gone silent, and then lifted up into accusations and panic. Mordred's mind was spinning, completely caught off guard. Though part of him, in the back of his mind, worried what this would mean for the next people to be accused of sorcery. The climate would surely change for the worse - unless this was handled with care.

The other part of him was more worried if the accusations were flying his way, and of where the King and Prince Merthyr's judgement would fall.

"Secure the doors and windows, no one leaves and no one moves" shouted out lord Tron Pentre, head knight of the realm, whose sole task was to ensure the king's safety.

"Take the maid and the manservant to the dungeons, clearly they're sorcerers, she was closest to Sir Pettipace, serving his drink at the time. He was cutting the food. They could have enchanted such whilst we were not paying attention" declared the king in a frown

"Have Sir Mordred seized at once, he sat by the knight too, he may have been using magic himself" commanded Conrad furious at the blatant dare

"Come now, father, you cannot accuse a knight of the realm without sufficient proof, I was sitting by the dead knight too after all" protested Merthyr in defiance to his father's words

"Well then... in that case... seize the prince and throw him in the dungeon as well... I will deal with them all come the morning" snapped Conrad angry that his son, his own son, would dare question his decisions openly before the honoured guests. The king retired from the dinning hall, walking away from the banquet, to go to his rooms to rest, the maid and servant seized and taken away for questioning and sentencing under a charge of witchcraft

Merthyr at first looked up in disbelief that his own father would have him arrested and frowned at the approaching knights and guards that came to seize him indeed, as if he were but a common criminal. He was indignant he would be humiliated in such manner but he knew better than to dare refuse arrest.

He took a deep breath and removed the sword from its stealth, slamming it on the table, waiting for the guards to seize him and drag him away, undoubtedly heavy handedly, for it was rare anyone was permitted to lay a finger upon the royal family, never mind the crown prince.

"It seems you're no longer your father's favourite... I would tread carefully if I were you..." taunted and smirked lord Pentre with a glee, a sly smile clearly drawn across the face, as he spoke softly in the prince's ear.

"You can't address me like that, knight" protested Merthyr in an equally low voice to remind the man of his lower condition and position

"Of course..." yielded Sir Pentre in a gritted teeth "But I'll have you grovel all the same, your highness" assured the devious lord

"Seize them both and away with them at once!" snapped and barked the lord knight all too proud at the unexpected turn of events his finger singling out Mordred and Merthyr, waiting for Mordred to disarm and surrender too

Mordred sat frozen as King Conrad declared his judgement, his stomach twisting in bitterness.

"Your majesty, surely I deserve even a trial," said Mordred, all too late, as King Conrad was already walking away. "What motive have I to kill Sir Pettipace?"

It wasn't until the firm grip of the guards seized him and taking his sword that Prince Merthyr's defense even registered. He was dragged to the dungeons, his armour taken from him, and then dropped onto the cold stone floor. Locked into a cell. It felt eerily too similar to when he had been trapped in that boat, as a small child. The air had been cold then too.

Seeing who was locked in the cells beside him shook him out of his thoughts.

"Good night, sir Mordred, please try to take no offence. I am sure his majesty just had too much wine tonight at the feast or is simply too taken aback at the unusual death of Sir Pettipace" excused Merthyr

He patiently submitted to Sir Pentre's rigor as he was stripped off his armour and his royal robes being afforded no modesty or privacy whatsoever in the process. After some uncomfortable grovelling, he was handed but a basic sack clothing sleeveless tunic, much too small and much too tight for his frame, that barely covered much, which was clearly used and rather grubby at that too.

He was tightly shackled, the iron cuffs biting into his wrists and ankles, he heavy short chains keeping him attached to the stone walls rather uncomfortably, with little room for maneouvre. His treatment clearly a lot more harsher than any other knights, lords and common prisoners held there

"I will vouch for your integrity and release at the earliest opportunity" sighed Merthyr cold and resigned going to sit back on the floor against the stone wall

"Thank you, your highness," he replied after a moments pause, "I would be in your debt." Though he couldn't help noting the notably harsher imprisonment the prince faced - and the enthusiasm with which Sir Pentre delivered it, feeling at once both respect and vindication at this.

He, too, moved to sit back against the wall, though curled up, faced away from everyone else. Who would have motive to kill Sir Pettipace? And had it really been enchanted food, or was there something else at play? Surely, he thought, finding the culprit would bring everything clear. Though, considering Sir Pettipace's opinions on sorcery, Mordred wasn't sure if he wanted to find the real culprit.

And then, if he did find who was responsible, what would become of them? Of the people accused after them? He wouldn't be able to find out on his own, magic aside. Webs of thoughts span their way around him. This would not bode well for public opinion, but then, nothing with magic ever did.

The night was long, a very long one, Merthyr struggled to get any sleep at all, his numb hanging arms which were forced upwards against the wall gave him the most uncomfortable possible position. He hoped the night would soon pass and his father woud recover his senses come the morning, once he was sober from the wine.

Whilst deep in thought, between the stone pillars of the dark dungeons a womanly figure made itself visible, the hair, black as the night itself and her eyes intensely blue which caused Merthyr to look up allured by her beauty, his eyes fixed on her lips.



"I am Nimueh, sorceress of the old religion, for what your king has done, your kingdom shall be cursed with plagues, famines, draught and death, diseases will ensue until sufficient retribution and penance is made" informed the young woman shortly vanishing from sight in the same gust of wind that brought her there in the first place

Merthyr was prepared to plead on behalf of the peasants, of the common folk who would be affected by this and who bore no fault of their own but it was much too late, she was already gone.

"Ahh... sir Mordred... if it is not too great a favour to ask of you, I would request you make no mention of her, for both our sakes, it will be hard enough to talk to my father out of our current dire situation, no need to complicate matters further" suggested Merthyr ducking his head at his presently limited capabilities

"I will go on a quest to find this woman and barter for some mercy for the sake of the common folk, else they will starve and perish, all of us will, in fact" sighed Merthyr, his trouble increasing by the day

"Can I count on your silence about such matter?" asked Merthyr hesitant

Mordred merely nodded in response, committing her words and face to memory. Some part of him was comforted by the idea of retribution, but he kept those thoughts to himself.

Merthyr seemed to grow more fatigued as the day wore on; Mordred could hear the rattling of his chains and their scraping against the floor. He expected, at least, that someone would come down to give them a trial or hearing, but as the day grew old that seemed less and less likely.

Finally, it was not a guard who came down to greet them. Nor was it the King, or any of the knights. It was, in fact, Taff Gelligen.

"Need some help?" Taff grins at Merthyr, holding the keys with a somewhat mischievous look. Though how in the world he could have gotten them was completely lost on Mordred.

Taff rushes first to unlock Merthyr's cell and free him of his chains, a finger to his lips. Mordred got the sense that he knew something more of this.

((OOC: I've got to get ready for an appointment so my replies are going to be mega slow. I also hope you don't mind what I did with Taff there?))

"Taff, are you out of your mind? Stealing keys will certainly land you in the wrong side of the law" remarked Merthyr as if he didn't know that already

"Besides, to escape the dungeons is treason, I can't do it, such defiance would not so easily be forgiven by the king. It will only land me in further trouble... but thanks for coming to keep me company all the same, you've always been a dutiful servant and a good friend" pointed out Merthyr rubbing his sore bleeding wrists, wrapping them with a bandage from Taff's bag.

"Did you manage to get any food at all?" asked Merthyr knowing the manservant was a resourceful one but unsuspecting of his powers

Merthyr dug into his own bag which Taff had brought downstairs and took parchment and quill writing down the release order for Sir Mordred and issuing the royal pardon on account of being a member of the royal family, the crown prince.

"Here take this to the guards to release the knight at once, ensure a copy of the release order and this pardon reaches my father too for better measure." insisted Merthyr pressing his ring onto the hot wax he melted by the torch on each of the parchments he had written "I cannot release myself from here, of course, but I can certainly set Sir Mordred free from all charges" muttered Merthyr

"Sir Mordred, if you would be so kind, when you see lord Pentre, which you undoubtedly will, please inform him I am ready to submit to his demands and to grovel if needs be. May I count on you to deliver the message? He may not listen to common servants. Lord Pentre is my father's distant cousin, a relative of sorts and long standing friend. I need to get into his good graces to appease my father" muttered Merthyr

"Just this," answers Taff, handing him some bread. Dutifully, he takes the parchments, presumably to do as he was asked. Sometime later, two guards return and unlock Mordred's cell.

"You've received a royal pardon," says one of the guards - Mordred catches an unmistakable glance at Merthyr.

Mordred is quickly escorted out of the dungeons, leaving Prince Merthyr, and perhaps Taff, alone. The guards return his sword and his armour, which he quickly puts back on. The first thing he thinks of is to investigate what happened at the banquet, but before he even gets there another guard has come down to greet him.

"His royal majesty, King Conrad, has asked to see you." Mordred balls up his fists, but nods. He is brought into a sort of waiting room, unfamiliar to him. He was not an especially skilled or well-known knight; it was not often the king called to see him - if it was indeed the king.

The room had a strange atmosphere to it. Mordred could hear footsteps coming towards the room, long after the footsteps of the guard had faded.

"Thank goodness for your quick handedness and thinking, Taff. I'm starving, at least it will keep hunger at bay" accepted Merthyr, sitting down on the cold stones to eat the plain portion of bread, relieved Mordred had been released

---

The king was conversing with lord Pentre when Mordred arrived, the pair giving him full attention

"Sir Mordred, please come forward, it is clear that the prince feels very strongly about your innocence. I have no solid reason or evidence to doubt it, thus I am obliged to accept you did no wrongdoing.

My son may lack manners at times but he doesn't lack judgment. Thus tell me what did you see or hear last night at the banquet?" Quizzed Conrad

"Did you notice any foul play among the servants?" Quizzed Conrad

Mordred came forward, and after some thought, answered, "There had been a strange conversation a few of the servants before it began. I overheard them arguing over a small pouch - that it had too much gypsum in it."

There had been no such conversation, of course, as if he had overheard this it would have been the first thing he looked into. He knew that gypsum was likely a component in the sort of spell that would do this, however.

Mordred glanced at Lord Pentre, thinking carefully on how to relay the message. Finally, he decided. "Prince Merthyr has informed me that he wished to speak with you on the matter, however."

Mordred could see from the man's gaze that he was no stranger to battle, and he held the stance of someone who was used to holding command of those under him.

The king frowned darkly, listening attentively at the report delivered by Mordred.

"I feared as much... treacherous ungrateful peasants..." muttered Conrad lowly, his face softening with a smile

"Excellent findings, Sir Mordred, clearly I had it all wrong, my apologies for daring to question your allegiance and honour.

You are to seize these servants and put them to the sword. Afterwards, tonight, we shall feast in your honour and you shall be rewarded for your dutiful diligence and clear loyalty" assured Conrad watching Pentre salute the king before leaving to come to the dungeons

"Of course, your majesty." Mordred smiled, and calmly left the room, knowing that now he had to pretend to search for these imaginary servants. And make it seem as if he had executed them.

First, he returned to the scene of the crime - the dining hall. It still smelt of cooked foods, though the the tables and floor had of course been cleaned thoroughly. Which mean finding clues might prove difficult. There was no one here, at this time, so it left him free reign to check the room.

Giving a quick glance around, Mordred softly spoke his spell, under his breath. The words he spoke hissed out into the room, sending waves across the smooth surfaces of every table, and through every chair. Steam seemed to lift up from one chair in particular, though strangely, not Sir Pettipace's chair. It was, in fact, Sir Florence's chair.

Quickly, the waves dissipated, and the steam faded. So clearly, whoever had done the first spell hadn't been stupid enough to leave evidence, and was in fact likely someone who had had access to the dining room after the banquet. Mordred checked under Sir Florence's chair and, sure enough, there was a small pouch on the underside of it. He snatched it up and, just as predicted, there was gypsum in it. As well as other, various spell components.

But this wasn't a spell that killed someone. This was a spell that drained life force. This complicated things somewhat.

Mordred, carefully despelling the pouch, then headed off to the servants quarters. Though in the back of his mind, he thought of the words Nimueh had said earlier. He doubted she was joking. He wondered, also, of what became of Merthyr during this time.

Lord Pentre made his way to the dungeons, a sly smile to see Merthyr there.

"I thought you would have escaped, a shame you're still here, depriving me from a proper ... royal... hunt" muttered Pentre. He didn't bother to acknowledge the servant Taff as he directly addressed the prince. "I told you I would make you pay for your humiliation... sooner or later" remarked lord Pentre

"Listen, knight, regarding your sister, I had no intention to offend you or your sister the lady Morgana by refusing to be her champion. I rejected the offer of company because I am simply not interested in courting any damsel" clarified Merthyr defensive

"You will submit to my demands if you want to be released and the servants spared" informed Pentre sharply.

"Yes yes I will... I will court the lady Morgana or any maid of your choosing, now please, intercede for my release" nodded Merthyr mortified

"Beg.. on your knees... for forgiveness and you're free to leave" pressed lord Pentre

"Taff... care to wait outside?" Quizzed Merthyr hoping to retain some dignity

"No... he stays and watches, the both of you need to acknowledge I am the one in charge here, I am the king's right hand man." Insisted Pentre

"Fine... Taff Gelligen you stay and watch, bear witness as the prince humbly begs the lord Pentre forgiveness and mercy. I apologize for offending his sister and will make amends to her tonight" stated Merthyr

No sooner he had knelt down to speak such words, Pentre signed off the release and walked away

"See you tonight, at the feast, your highness. Any lacking your fate could quickly worsen..." warned Pentre going to find the king

"Come on Taff, better we go to my quarters and prepare for the event, I will need my finest attire, I have a high born maiden to court" sighed Merthyr

"Get some flowers and a gift for her too, all must go perfectly" mused Merthyr surprised a minor damsel's disappointment from the previous season could cause him such a strife now

----

"How brave of a knight of the old code to defy the king and use magic within the castle walls... I would tread carefully if I were you, son of darkness, we would not want others finding out your gift after all" remarked Nimueh

She had taken the form of a servant as she addressed Mordred. Unlike him, however, she was there to remove any traces of the magic used, with great success at that

"Don't stand in my way, least you wish to loose your powers altogether... the king must be made to pay" informed Nimueh sharply

((OOC: Good night))

To say Mordred was surprised to see her would be an understatement; to say that he was surprised that she saw all that had unfolded just then... somewhat more of an understatement.

Although he couldn't see Nimueh removing all traces of magic from the room, he could feel it. Slightly. Like the room no longer had an air about it; it was just a room. Mordred felt a strange mix of awe and respect; she was clearly a priestess of the old religion, as she said she was.

"The king must be made to pay, I agree," said Mordred, a curious sparkle in his eye. "I merely prefer to remain free - and alive. In fact, if you helped me find a suitable target to pin the acts onto, I would even help you."

Merthyr sighed in relief as soon as he had the release order from lord Pentre, not about to linger in case the man changed his mind. He turned his attention to Taff quickly

"Come on then, if defiance displeases father enough to have me locked up and starved, there's no telling what lateness and poor dressing standards will do" urged Merthyr

---

Nimueh looked up surprised at Mordred query as to whom he ought to lay blame upon, smiling broadly at the offer

"Why Merthyr Tydfil of course, the crown prince and heir to the throne must bear the weight of his father's wrongdoing" nodded Nimueh with a sly smile across her face

"He is a son granted to the selfish king by my hand using the very magic he now seeks to destroy after all" concluded Nimueh

"I accept your offer of service and assistance, Sir Mordred, and allow you to place the blame upon the prince. Tonight I will offer the king a poisoned chalice. Not deadly poison since these royals must be given time for redemption but strong enough to make them ill" explained Nimueh picking up a jug to take it back to the kitchens

---

King Conrad was discussing heightened security measures with the lord Pentre when he heard the trumpets sound to announce the arrival of important guests

King Conrad made haste to leave the palace and come to the courtyard as soon as his riders and messengers reported the approaching arrival of his half sister lady Morgause.

"My lady, it is a great honour that you have taken the trouble to visit family. Come take up rooms at my home to rest, you must be weary of your journey... tonight we are having a feast and you're welcomed to join us" invited Conrad smiling warmly

"Magic is forbidden in Camelot you will do well to refrain from such dark practice upon my lands" warned briefly before letting a random maid, Nimueh, escort Morgause to the guest quarters

Merthyr's words finally brought Taff out of his thoughts. Taff simply gave him a sheepish smile, before quickly bringing him to his chambers. On the way, passing a few other servants, though not ones he knew personally.

He grabbed the prince's finest clothes, and began dressing him with attention to detail. He knew though, he would likely have to run to get the flowers, and hadn't the faintest idea where he would find a gift.

---

Mordred gave a small smile in return, and nodded. Despite Merthyr's defense of him, and his kindness in setting him free, Mordred truly felt no qualms about laying the blame at his feet. Really, it's exactly what the king deserved. He did make personal note, however, of Prince Merthyr's origins.

Thinking quickly to himself, as the feast would be soon, he made for Prince Merthyr's quarters. He likely wouldn't be able to make such an accusation without any evidence, and while the pouch he had found was despelled, it still looked magical. While heading there, he began formulating what he would say of the first story he had come up with, about the servants.

Though he made sure to move quickly, he also made sure to look not too suspicious. It hampered his speed somewhat, but he figured it must help his case.

Merthyr left his quarters quickly, coming to greet the lady Morgause. He barely remembered her since their last encounter but came to welcome the newcomer all the same.

On his way there he passed Mordred, pausing him briefly in the hallway.

"Thank you for speaking to lord Pentre on my behalf. I am in your debt, Sir Mordred" thanked Merthyr before making haste to the lady's presence

"The lady Morgause of Orkney... a pleasure to see you, aunt" saluted Merthyr Tydfil leaning forward slightly to bow courteous

"I trust you journey was without trouble?" Asked Merthyr politely, not giving the maid a second glance thus entirely missing Nimueh