Behind Closed Doors | KoL (
behindcloseddoors) wrote2012-02-08 10:37 am
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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.]
do you even know how hard it is not to make that joke every day
Yes.
It is ... easier and more practical to navigate this world in human form, and in the age where magic remained a well kept secret, it was a necessity of survival, as well.
But this is my true form.
no subject
[ Arthur decides to just sit down before he falls down, kicking aside some stray coins and leaning back on his hands so he doesn't have to crane his neck. It's not as though a few feet is really going to matter given the situation. And it stops his legs from being able to beat a hasty retreat without any input from his brain. ]
[ He's really glad that Wynnefalshond seems to like him. Nevertheless, his voice is a bit pitchy. What can he even say? ]
Is that common in your homeland? Er, being a dragon?
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More common than in this land, but there have never been a great many dragons. Most of us who come to this world, however, are easily hunted and destroyed, whether we are good or evil.
[He snorts in thought, and what first appears to be smoke ejects from his nostrils - though after a moment of hanging there, it becomes evident that it's actually frost instead.]
Only my eldest knights and my Dragon's Claws share knowledge of what I am. I would ask, if you choose to join us, that you safeguard this knowledge as well.
† annnnd a spot check of 15 or more would allow Arthur to get over the gigantic dragon aspect long enough to spot what appears to be something of a scar on the dragon's left flank. It looks like a very large scale is missing, though the wound looks old.
Spot: 16 [18 -2]
[ Arthur's response is immediate. ]
No matter what, I shall not breathe a word of your secret.
[ Not that he's ever been good at dishonesty... but it doesn't seem like something that would come up in casual conversation. ]
[ And his eyes track that massive body, fascinated by seeing such an unlikely beast at close quarters. His gaze catches on that scar, wonders at what could wound such a creature. Though perhaps he has some idea. ]
You're the dragon in the artwork, aren't you?
[ Arthur tips his head to the side, eyes back on Wynn's again. ]
Fighting those creatures...
lmao, -2. /pats arthur's head
Some of the pieces are... historical. Others were inspired by the works of a prophet in the 14th century.
how else did Merlin get away with using magic while standing next to him so many times
[ Prophecy. That's interesting. ]
Those dark-skinned people were in many.
stop pointing out wynn's racism, arthur
One of them in particular. I believe he is meant to be one of their gods.
HAHAHA drow are so problematic
[ He is really hoping you are going to tell him it's symbolic, Wynn. ]
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I have my theories. [He shifts his weight slightly, coins rolling down the side of a mound, and clinking against the ground around Arthur] As you may imagine. The prophecy foretold of the greatest conflict this order would face, and leaves the outcome unclear, but foreboding.
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Does it say when this conflict is supposed to occur?
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[ Drippingly sardonic, though the bite of it isn't directed at Wynn. ]
Do you prepare your organization for such an eventuality?
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Makes sense.
[ Prophecy isn't exactly his wheelhouse, so he has no particular contribution himself. He shifts his weight on his hands, marveling at Wynn's size once more, but finally looking with the eye of a warrior, looking over his claws and wings and natural armour. He dreaded to think what would be a severe threat to a creature of this size. A god indeed. ]
You've given me a lot to think about. And a great deal else besides.
[ No matter how much Wynn may think he's repaying a debt owed, it doesn't feel that way to Arthur. He lifts his chin, as earnest as if they were the same size class. ]
I'd like to join your organization.
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Then I will take you as my own squire, to teach you our protocol and history, and introduce you to the discrepancies between this world and your own. [Again, he seems almost to smile, cocking his head, as if expecting Arthur to look a bit petulant about that.] A formality, the squiring ceremony, in your case, however the importance of it lies in taking an oath to this Order in the eyes of those who will serve beside you.
We grant even our squires the title of a Knight, so that they feel themselves not only to be a part of our organization from the beginning, but to recognize the responsibility and trust being placed upon them. Those who do not successfully complete their squiring period are stripped of their title, and denied full membership. For as much as we grant them freely, the rest they must earn through their own dedication and loyalty to this Knighthood.
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[ But he relaxes a little as Wynn explains, thinking it through. The dragon is older than him, and far more powerful; there's no shame in recognizing that. His memories of his climb to knighthood are spotty, and training will give him a chance to test himself in this new world, as well as get to know other members of the Order. ]
[ In Camelot he has title and land and a reputation. Here, he has only the legacy history books left him. ]
It's a formality I can live with.
[ Arthur nods, resolute. He's going to be the best — could never accept in himself anything less than absolute devotion to his cause. ]
It's going to be strange, though, to be on the other end of the sword at a knighting ceremony.
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When he speaks again, his voice sounds strange and thin next to the rumbling it just was, as if someone turned all the bass down.]
It will be an honor to have you among our number, Arthur.
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It'll be an honor to be there.
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Then preparations will be made immediately for a ceremony. [As he releases Arthur's hand, and moves to take a step around him, he pauses, seeming to consider something for a second. And then looks pleased with himself.] ... And a feast. [And with that, he'll walk back towards the arch outta here.
/AND SCENE?????]