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Behind Closed Doors | KoL ([personal profile] behindcloseddoors) wrote2012-02-08 10:37 am

prologue ♔ passion or coincidence once prompted you to say | pride will tear us both apart



Ordinary World ; Red

WHO || Wynnefalshond & Arthur Pendragon [closed]
WHAT || The tables have turned.
WHERE || Winchester, Hampshire, England, outside the Great Hall
WHEN || Wednesday, Feb 8, 2012, morning
HOW || Actionspam


[It was possible, of course, that this lunatic was nothing more than a lunatic. The world was full of them, after all, and Wynn had seen a vast extent of fools in his time. But perhaps it was the sudden influx of arrivals in the past week whose stories didn't hold up to the same tale he'd been hearing for centuries - people coming from somewhere other than the Shadow World - that had him on edge, and drove him to investigate the claims of the man claiming to be "Arthur Pendragon" himself.

Apparently, he'd appeared quite suddenly wearing full plate mail in the Great Hall of what was left of Winchester Castle, where a reproduction of the Round Table hung famously on the wall. This might have been taken as something of a good prank if he hadn't actually been wearing a quite dangerous looking sword as well, and argued so vehemently with the security guards who came to escort him off the grounds.

Wynn had his ways of traveling quickly, when he had to, and whatever instincts drove him to not just dismiss this also compelled him to utilized those methods now. There was a sense of something in his gut that he couldn't quell. It felt a lot like dread, which was something he'd gone a long time without feeling.

So it was that he marched along the path outside the building, casting his eyes around for signs of the madman. Perhaps he'd continued to argue and been hauled off to a cell. A frown carved its way across Wynn's features as he walked around the perimeter, ignoring the stares that his unusual height and cut of clothing drew. It was rare that he questioned his own judgment in matters like these, but he started to think that perhaps this had been a spectacular waste of his time, after all.]

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