The battle of Camlann was the end of prosperity, and it was all caused by one person. The bastard son, sometimes nephew, Mordred.
Stubborn, fiery, cunning. There's a lot of ways to describe Mordred, but the biggest is stubborn. Stubborn enough to de...
Sorry for the wait, but I'm getting ready to end up in West Virginia in the next two days. Don't expect another chapter for at least two weeks. ___________________________
No POV 1 month later
Blood and fire, as far as the eye can see.
An entire beach covered in bodies, two different types of armor worn by the bodies. Swords, spears, bows, and shields littered the battlefield as fortifications are sieged.
Two men seem to be leading the siege. Flashes of green and crimson flash like lightning around them as they fight their way up the beach. The bodies of warriors being left in their wake, as if some force of nature is with them.
Crimson lightning appeared as one of the two individuals seemed to blast off, a small crater being left under his feet. A spear, with a thicker and wider head, impaled one man before being ripped out of him and jammed into another's throat. It glowed a light crimson as small sparks of lightning surrounded the head of the spear as it was propelled through the air, ripping through two men in the process. Their screams of pain were cut short as a blade passed through their neck, beheading them in an instant.
The owner of the blade didn't look at them as he raced towards another man. The man he was targeting was trying to reorganize a small group of soldiers before finding a blade cutting his arm clear off his body and slicing his throat open. The owner of the blade used a shield to bash a man to the side as he seemed to dance around them.
With one slice he beheaded a man. The next removed a leg an arm. The one after that ripped through a man's gut as he was lifted through the air and impaled into the ground. One last slice killed the man writhing in agony at the lost of an arm and leg.
He turned around and saw his compatriot leading others up the beach, with many more dismounting their ships to join them. He felt nothing as a hand grabbed his foot and saw a dying soldier looking at him with anger.
"W-what have we've d-done to ea-earn this!?" He shouted at his soon-to-be killer. All he was met with was silence and a stare as aqua eyes seemed to look into his soul. He could see no emotion in them, just a cold, dead stare of someone who has no regrets.
The man with aqua eyes lowered himself to the dying man as he finally spoke, the last words the dying man would hear before a dagger entered his skull, "By following a coward."
He left the dagger in the man's skull as he stood back up and pulled his sword quickly, raising it towards another man's neck. Noting the spear raised to his as they stood there.
The man with aqua eyes quickly observed the other individual with him. Brown hair, brown eyes, a unique looking spear, smoking something, and wearing the clothes of a Trojan.
"I'm gonna make a guess real quick," the man with aqua eyes told the other, "You're Hector, aren't you?"
The other man only smirked a little as he spoke, "You caught me," he looked at the aqua eyed man and quickly observed him, "Now it's time for my guess."
"Go ahead, it's pretty obvious already though."
"You're that hunter," he spoke, "The one they call 'the son of the forest' or something like that. Never thought I'd fight you."
"We can just call this another hunt, well, a prolonged one anyways."
Hector faltered slightly as his spear dropped a little before he gained a serious look in his eyes, "What or who are you after?"
"I thought it'd be obvious, Hector," a strange smile spread across his face, "I'm only after the toughest prey. This one just happens to have divine help."
"You don't mean.."
"Oh I do, Hector. I very much mean him."
"Guess I need to stop you then," Hector rose his spear back towards his throat, "Can't have you killing my younger brother."
The hunter said nothing as the same strange smile stayed on his face before he turned to leave, catching Hector off guard.
"Sorry Hector, but the fight with you isn't mine. It belongs with someone else."
"The hell does that mean?"
"You'll find out later, but until then.." he seemed to think of something before shrugging as his spear seemed to reform in his hands, "Well just don't die. I'd hate to miss it."
"That's cryptic as hell, you know?"
"Oh I know," the hunter took two more steps before he seemed to remember something, "Also, you can just call me Idris. It's easier to find someone shouting my name."
Idris just walked away, not caring that he left his back turned to a very capable warrior. Just kept on walking until he found his spear.
Timeskip because I'm going insane 3 years later
Multiple camps laid before a massive walled city. Different groups of people were conversing, eating, or maintaining weapons and armor. There was an excited air around them as they awaited the siege of the city.
Legends had already been made, such as Ajax and Achilles, Odysseus and Hector, and Menelaus and Paris. Each one a powerful warrior in their own ways. The war swung heavily in the Greeks favor due to having assembled some of the greatest warriors to fight for them. The Trojans themselves were putting up a valiant defense, but it was for naught due to the Greek army being spearheaded by Achilles and his Myrmidons. Cities were destroyed, villages plundered. Fathers and sons on each side will not return.
A lone warrior watched the walls, seeing if he could spot any form of way to penetrate the walls and end the war. The walls themselves were massive, and he was unsure if they could be breached conventionally. He knew that moral was dwindling and supplies were slowly, but surely, running low for both the Greeks and Trojans. It was just a matter of time.
Aqua eyes stared at the main gate as he came up with a plan, albeit borderline suicidal. He would scale the wall and try to make a big enough hole where rubble could be used as makeshift ladders and ramps to allow the Greeks to enter, shortening the war by years. He just needed enough destructive power to do it.
He knew that the Trojans had very capable warriors, but he was gambling on the leadership. Paris wasn't very brave, everyone knew that, but he knew that Paris wouldn't let go of something he wants so easily. He'll have to break his spirit and body. This one strike could help decide the war, even if his involvement is forgotten.
He stared at his hand as small crimson sparks summoned a silver blade to his hand. The red lines marking it were dulled and scratched, displaying it's use, but the blade wasn't cracked. He smiled to himself as he figured out how he would do it. The blade that struck down Camelot would have another go. Another kingdom would fall, and one last Pendragon would see it through.
___________________________ You reached the end, good job. Oh and when I said two days? I mean today. See y'all later.
Anyways, have a nice day/night
Bama out
New character(s)
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