The Origin of the Knights of the Round Table

[Fable]

(OOC: Closed to MiaKane and this is not a Battle)

The Origin of the Knights of the Round Table

“Grandpa, will you tell me a story?” The child asked as his grandfather lifted him onto his lap.

“Well let’s see,” the old man said as he reached over and plucked an old leather book bearing a scroll and pen on the cover, “how about the story of how the Knights of the Round Table came to be?”

The child smiled and nodded as his grandfather opened the book and began to read.

~ ~ ~

The wind was chilling as Gwernaeh opened his eyes and peered across the landscape before him. Storm clouds flashed dreadful bolts of lighting on the horizon as his eye left eye twitched.

“There be a bad storm roll’n in’a an it’s gone ta be last’n a long time’a…” the wiry old sage said as he stroked his beard. He shifted his gnarled wood staff to his other hand and flattened his matted green robs before adjusting his abstractly mangled hat of twigs and shrubbery. He gave a short chuckle before a woodpecker began thumping on one of the twigs of his hat.

“Damn nargle spooch’a confound’n birds’a!!” the ancient sage said as he began slowly walking down from the mountain peak he had ascended in order to commune with nature.

~ ~ ~

The Abbots of the Ai’bron monks sat in their usual places around the grand incense brazier. Each one held a face of concern as the Chief Abbot slowly entered and took his seat.

“My fellow Abbots, we appear to have a crisis on our hands,” He said with only a moment of thought.

Each of the monks nodded in unison.

“Then, what are we to do about this?” he said after acknowledging them with a nod.

“This’a is a big’a thing than ya all be think’n it tis,” Gwernaeh said as he entered, his eye twitching crazily.

“Oh ancient sage, to what do we owe this visit,” the chief Abbot said with his arms held wide in welcome.

The old man stroked his beard for a moment as if he was in his own world, which may have been true, “Knights’a, Chivalrous men n women’a, There be a mighty need’a for some.”

The Abbots glanced around at each other for a moment, uncertain of what Gwernaeh had said. Taking cues and with a bit of wise wording the Chief Abbot spoke up.

“My dear sage, can you please elaborate so that we may understand the depth of your wisdom.”

The old sage hesitated again waiting for a long moment in thought.

“No.”

The Abbots bore looks of utter confusion as they watched him.

“I can nay a elaborate on’a that, cause tis a simple’a thing, the world needs warriors o valor n good, an only yea monks’a o selfless mercy an pity can find and grant to them the power’a ta be fulfill’n their destinys’a.” His eye twitched madly as the woodpecker that had nested in his hat fluttered and settled again. “I be have’n a vision’a knights sit’n round a round table’a.”

The chief Abbot pondered for a moment before speaking, “So we are to give charge to a group of warriors who show great selflessness in protecting the people?”

“Aye, what ta ya think I be try’n ta tell ya?” Gwernaeh said with another set of eye twitches.

“Very well then, we shall seek out and form this group, the Knights of the Round Table.” Chief Abbot said as he held out his arms in expression, “what say you brothers and sisters?”

The other abbots nodded in unison.
“Very well, it is decided, does anyone here know of such a warrior that we can give this charge unto?” he asked while looking around the room.

The others talked quietly amongst themselves for a few moments as Gwernaeh was brought a seat by the young monk known as Malcolm, whom had heard the whole conversation.

Malcolm sat next to the old sage and clenched his hand nervously, his mind pondering the ramifications of speaking.

“If’n ya got somthin ta say, best’a say it boy,” the old sage said as he looked at Malcolm through his good eye.

Malcolm nodded and stood, moving before the Chief Abbot before bowing.

“Chief Abbot, if I may?” he asked.

The Chief Abbot clapped his hands and all fell quiet, “speak.”

“It may not be my place, and well, she may not be totally selfless, I know she has fought by the side of the Calerians in Fallien when Irrakam was attacked and when she heard of our own crisis, she immediately swore to aid us against our enemy.” Malcolm said without looking up from his bow.

“We must find a total…” the Chief Abbot was cut off.

“She sounds’a like a good’n, no one’a be perfect, but I say that’a it might be’a time for some’n ta go through’a tha trials of Excaliber.” Gwernaeh said with a stern look.

The Chief Abbot thought once again for a long moment before speaking.

“An excellent idea,” he said with a smile, “Malcolm, bring us this girl you think so highly of, and we shall see if she is the one for this grand charge.”

[MiaKane]

The ice elf lounged quietly in one of the many gardens that were permanent none combat rooms within the Citadel. In her right hand she held a small book of essays about the proper ceremony used for making tea in a small country that existed inside of Corone’s boarders. Her left hand gently petted a lengthy black cat that lay stretched across the back of the bench she occupied.

“How interesting, did you know that the ceremony is based more on quietly brining a group together than actually having a full cup of tea?” Mia said as she looked up from her book to the cat she was petting.

The ebony feline merely opened one eye to peer at her for a moment before stretching a little and settling back into relaxation. Mia shook her head and continued to read for a few moments before Malcolm rushed into the garden.

“Oh thank the gods,” he said as he approached and stopped to catch his breath.

“Malcolm? What wrong?” the ice elf asked as she put the book down and turned to look at the exasperated monk.

“Nothing…huff...is wrong, I was just …huff…worried that you had left.”

“You should know that I would have told you if I was leaving.”

“Either way, the Abbots wish to talk to you.”

“hmm? Really? What about?” she said while standing and giving her feline friend a quick pat on the head.

“Well, I’m sure,” Malcolm said as he straitened and composed himself, “that the Abbots and the old sage Gwernaeh can probably tell you more in depth, but they would like to talk to you about the war.”

“Oh, I see, well this should be interesting,” the ice elf said as she followed her friend.

Malcolm led her down hallways that she had never been down, through hallways and tunnels, up and down stairways until Mia was all but certain that they were lost.

“Uh, Malcolm…” she began asking.

“Here we are,” he said as they reached a large set of white double doors. As she stepped before them they silently swept open revealing an oval room that had multiple levels of seating for the monks that sat a top red pillows. She was calmed by the crème orange color of the room as well as the rich scent of incense that wafted from the large urn in the middle of the room.

Whoa…

[Fable]

Gwernaeh was scratching his chin as the great doors opened, the sight before him caused his eye to twitch a few times. The girl that Malcolm had brought was beautiful, in a loud, in your face appearance way.

“My dear girl, please come forward,” the Chief Abbot said calmly while stretching his hand out in welcome.

He waited till the girl was between him and the brazier, where she bowed in respect.

“Malcolm has said that you are a noble and selfless spirit, having fought to protect the people of Fallien from the evils and oppression of the clan of Mitra and then here, you have sworn to aid us against the rouges and scoundrels that threatened.” He gazed at her with soft eyes, studying her reactions.

“Yes Chief Abbot, what you have heard of my exploits is true, but noble and selfless…” Mia trailed off, looking away from the blue eyes of the Chief Abbot.

The Abbot watched quietly, waiting for her to finish as Gwernaeh stood quietly and made his way to the ice elf’s blind side.

“Honestly, honored one, my past is darkened with hate and revenge.” She finished.

“And’a what be the’a reason fer such feel’ns?” the old sage asked immediately, startling her slightly.

“Well…over a decade ago my home was attacked by enemies that have yet to spread into the lands that we know here. I lost my home, my family, and my friends. I fell into a pit of hate and vengeance that I wholly sought out.” A look of sorrow fell over her violet eyes.

“sounds’a like ye was seek’n justice, with just a bit of’a emotion,” his fingers ran through his gray beard, “though’a I see in’a yer eyes’a that ye never found’a that vengance’sa.”

“You’re right, by the time I was ready to face my enemy, he had already died. I defeated his son, but I did not kill him, only warned him never to cross into these lands.”

“Well’a then, what’a da you be say’n Chief Abbot’a?” Gwernaeh asked with a slightly raised decibel.

“I say, that you, Mia Kane, are in my eyes a noble and just person, what say you abbots?” the Chief Abbot said while lifting both hands in expression.

The others quietly nodded.

“Then it is settled in our minds, Mia Kane, Gwernaeh has told us that the future will call for warriors of peace and justice. Will you, of your own choice face the trials of Excalibur and become the first knight of the Ai’bron monks?” He asked calmly, studying her with hope in his heart.