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Post by Deleted on Jul 17, 2010 0:23:23 GMT -5
we're knights of the round table we dance whenever we're able we dine while here in camelot we eat ham and jam and spam a lot
Merlin's day was the usual mess of "fetch me this, fetch me that" and "don't worry about it, Merlin will get it". And of course, per Arthur's promise to run him through, with his newly-polished sword, of course, Merlin had to fight back the urge to slap him across the face and say, "yes, Sire", his only weapon being his tone of voice.
Today was such a day and the young warlock was down near the entrance of the stronghold, a bucket in hand. This time, however, he was doing chores for Arthur, but for Gauis, fetching water for his guardian, seeing as the old man's back would no longer hold out. Merlin noted that his back would be in hardly better shape when he was half Gauis' age, if this chore schedule kept up like this, but no one really cared about what Merlin had to say; it was Merlin's job to get down on all fours and act as a pack animal; no one else ever worry about him!
He cranked the pump for water perhaps a bit too vigorously and leapt back as water splashed all over his front. Wiping the water out of his eyes, he returned to his job.
Even the water hates me. He thought, bitterly.
As he pumped his arm up and down rhythmically, he gazed up at the castle above him, marveling at how much it looked like a toy from his angle. A little child's model, a mere figurine. Ahh, but a man could only dream...
but many times we're given rhymes that are quite un-sing-able we're opera men in camelot we sing from the diaphram a lot
WORD COUNT: 265 LISTENING TO: LYRICS CREDIT: Knights of the Round Table - Monty Python NOTES: none TAGGED: Lancelot
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Post by Deleted on Jul 19, 2010 0:34:40 GMT -5
Lancelot, actually Sir Lancelot, had set out from Wessex, several days earlier. He had been informed that he was assured of a knighthood in that kingdom, but his dream had always been to be a Knight of Camelot, so that was his pilgrimage now. He had never traveled through this forest before, so he knew not what he would find.
It was a fine day, a good one to travel, the only problem was that Lancelot didn't know exactly where he was, nor did he know how close or far away was Camelot. He had been constantly worrying about making his way to Camelot, but it was just occurring to him the problem of presenting himself and applying to be a knight beside the great Arthur. How was he going to pull that off?
Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, he saw a young man, not much more than a boy drawing water. But more of a concern was a huge winged creature that was heading for him just across the way. Lancelot rushed up with sword in hand to try and fend off this creature, whatever it was. "Look out," he cried.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 25, 2010 21:08:01 GMT -5
we're knights of the round table we dance whenever we're able we dine while here in camelot we eat ham and jam and spam a lot
Although Merlin was considered highly intelligent (for an idiot), he didn’t have the fastest reflexes and strongest mind-body corrolation in the world, he had gained a second nature of following orders, usually without question. This was thanks to Arthur, his blonde cloutpole of a master, who had been drilling the usual, “you will do this and if you do that again, I’ll lock you in the stocks and chuck sheep testicles at you” threats into his head, should he think of disobeying. And usually when Arthur was considerate enough to tell him to “look out”, his head was in danger of being chopped off.
So Merlin dropped what he was doing and dove sideways, his bucket of water sloshing all over him as he thrust his hands out to break his fall. As he turned around to see what was going on, his brain finally realized that that thankfully wasn’t Arthur’s voice and furthermore, he wasn’t taking orders from Arthur right now.
His eyes widened.
A flying monster, a living gargoyle from his worst nightmares, was plunging down over the city, heading straight for him, its beak gaping hungrily, its talons gleaming in the Sun, looking all too eager to sink into teenage closet warlock flesh and tear him to bits. So, he did the sensible thing.
And cowered helplessly.
but many times we're given rhymes that are quite un-sing-able we're opera men in camelot we sing from the diaphram a lot
WORD COUNT: LISTENING TO: LYRICS CREDIT: Knights of the Round Table - Monty Python NOTES: TAGGED: Lancelot
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Post by Deleted on Jul 27, 2010 16:39:27 GMT -5
Momentarily, after uttering his warning, Lancelot hesitated. he had never faced the like of the creature that was bearing down on the young man. He did not even know if it was of magic or was mortal, and therefore, whether he could kill it, or even stop it. Instantly, though, he knew that as a knight, even thiough not a Knight of Camelot, it was his duty to face this danger. And he continued his mad dash to try and intercept it. He saw him look up at the barreling creature, and stare at it, with an open mouth, while Lancelot hoped that his own hesitation had not been the difference between life and death, trending toward death.
Thankfully, the boy's first inclination was not to look back at where the voice was coming from, but to drop what he had been carrying and to dive off to the side, with the water splashing in every direction as the bucket hit the ground. He did turn around, just as Lancelot arrived, perhaps a second ahead of the creature. Fortunately, or at least Lancelot thought for a moment, the young man's diving to one side gave Lancelot a clear shot at the creature's upper chest. Lancelot got 2 good shots in, before, on his third the steel sword shattered.
Lancelot had just enough time, or so he thought to grab the boy by the collar, wrenching him up from the ground, yelling, "Come on," for it was time to run. However, before Lancelot could turn to run with him, one of the creature's talons scratched his left side leaving a superficial wound in his side, however, it probably gave him greater incentive to run fast. Both of them reached the side of the field, jumping behind a fallen log, and miraculously the creature flew off. Lancelot put his hand over his wound, leaned back, feeling strangely weak, feeling his blood run through his fingers. "Forgive me ..... I'm Lancelot ....Lancelot Du lac, and who might you be, and what were you doing here?"
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Post by Deleted on Aug 4, 2010 15:25:04 GMT -5
we're knights of the round table we dance whenever we're able we dine while here in camelot we eat ham and jam and spam a lot
Merlin hardly had time to realize what was going on, as cold, steel talons closed around the collar of his jacket and dragged him upright. His entire body strunched up, tensed, ready to be torn to shreds and have his blood go spurting in a million different directions, but his painful death never came. Opening his eyes, he peered up at someone, definitely a human, dragging him away from…a giant blurry mass of feathers, motion and screeching. He squirmed, trying to get his feet onto the ground and for a moment, he feared he was more of a hindrance than a help to the streetwise Hercules, but, with a quick jerk, his long legs met the earth and he began to run, supporting his own weight, but still keeping a hand on the…he supposed, he hoped, it was the arm of the other man.
He made the mistake of craning his neck around to see behind him and he let out a yelp of fear and stumbled. The creature was large; at least twice the size of a destrier. It had the head of an eagle, the haunches of a lion and the bloodthirsty gaze of a murderer. And to make matters worse, it was shrieking ceaselessly. Forcing his head to look where he was going again, Merlin lost his footing at the last second and fell over the log, landing on the other side, his head in his hands, waiting for the beast to make a tasty snack of him.
But it never came.
Slowly, he cracked open an eye, then another, until, realizing he was still intact, he opened them fully and relaxed, but only slightly. Now that he was positive he hadn’t been turned into dogfood, he turned to his rescuer, still out of the breath.
“M-Merlin. He stuttered, tentatively reaching out a customary hand to the man. “I l-live here.” He added, stupidly. He would have then done the smart thing and promptly shut it, but as he drew another ragged breath, he realized something else.
“You’re bleeding.” He pointed out, helpfully.
but many times we're given rhymes that are quite un-sing-able we're opera men in camelot we sing from the diaphram a lot
WORD COUNT: LISTENING TO: LYRICS CREDIT: Knights of the Round Table - Monty Python NOTES: TAGGED: Lancelot
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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2010 11:16:49 GMT -5
Fortunately, Lancelot found, even from the angle that he was forced to drag him up from the ground, that the young man ….. or boy ….. it was difficult to tell ….. was not much of a load, and he was relatively easy to pull up. Lance’s long apprenticeship with a carpenter master and his subsequent training as a page, and the fight training that that had required had made him exceptionally strong in the shoulders and arms, and that came in useful right now.
Lancelot was not only able to pull him up, but as his arm whipped around, to give him some initial momentum away from the strange creature that he had just broken his sword on. Unfortunately, while he was able to get Merlin moving. Lance was momentarily motionless, which made him the easier target, before he could start moving, and he felt the superficial slash from one of its sharp talons …….”ARGHHHH,” he yelped. His long strides, though, caught up to Merlin’s in a short time, and he pulled him along as fast as he could.
He saw his new companion suddenly make a look back to see what was chasing them and Lancelot quickly rebuked him, “No! …… don’t look where you’ve been ….. it’ll only slow us down …… look where we’re going!” Besides, they had gotten a good enough view of the strange and aggressive creature from too close a range as it was. He had no desire to look at it again until and unless he had an adequate weapon in his hands.
The last thing that Lance remembered as they fell over the log and sought shelter from it , was the sound of the creature taking off and flying away, much to Lancelot’s relief. It took some moments to finally accept that they had both escaped near-certain death, and Lancelot had haltingly introduced himself, and patiently listened to the one he had just rescued, introduced himself. “Merlin …. good to make your acquaintance. You live here ….. in the forest ….. or somewhere nearby?” Lancelot, now that the danger was clear, tried to stand up, but his knees felt suddenly weak and he was quite dizzy. “Bleeding?” He looked down and saw a dark spot slowly growing on the lower left-hand side of his shirt, and he collapsed down on his backside, with his back and head sagging back against the log. Replying, “Yeah, I guess I am,” was the last thing he remembered as he sank into unconsciousness.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 28, 2010 16:03:19 GMT -5
we're knights of the round table we dance whenever we're able we dine while here in camelot we eat ham and jam and spam a lot
“The forest?” Merlin repeated, rather stupidly, and he was greeted by an unbidden mental image of himself frolicking among the foliage wearing tights and a long green, hooded cloak, firing arrows at will from his longbow. He shook his head, trying to get the Robin Hood image out of his head before answering in a civilized and socially acceptable manner.
“No, I live up at the castle with Gauis…the court physician. I’m Arthur’s—the prince’s manservant. Are you—?” He spoke rather hurriedly, his eyes on the man’s steadily paling face, before they traveled down to his torso, where what could only be blood (or a hidden flask of thick wine that had been punctured) was pooling.
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
[/u] The man agreed, and then he collapsed back onto the log. For a moment, Merlin merely looked at him, non-plussed. So, here he was, in the middle of the forest, after being chased by a giant, blood-thirsty monster the likes of which he had never seen or heard of, with a random knight…mercenary who had just passed out from lack of blood. His first instinct was to shake the man, to see if he was playing a game of “play-dead” or if he was about to leap up at any moment and shout, “April Fools’!”, but when shaking by the shoulder failed, Merlin resorted to talking to him, hoping, by some law of obscure logic, that this was going to get the guy to wake up. “Er…you…er…hello?” He tried, lamely. “Wake up! There’s food in Camelot!” He added, as a hopeful after thought. As his efforts failed he crumbled against the log next to the man. Running his hand against his head, he turned to him and reflected on how inconvenient it was to have giant, flying monsters nearly eat you when you only trying to draw water. Wait! That was it! Water! “Stay there.” He ordered the immobile form of the streetwise Hercules. Getting up, he sprinted through the forest and arrived at the well, out of breath. He picked up his bucket and filled it halfway full of water. Lugging it back to the man wasn’t as fast, but when he finally got to him, he dumped the contents of his pail over his head without reserve. [/blockquote][/size] but many times we're given rhymes that are quite un-sing-able we're opera men in camelot we sing from the diaphram a lot
WORD COUNT: 404 LISTENING TO: LYRICS CREDIT: Knights of the Round Table - Monty Python NOTES: Sorry for the wait and the suckiness, I'm writing through my writers' block/muse loss. TAGGED: Lancelot
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Post by Deleted on Aug 29, 2010 6:18:56 GMT -5
Lancelot ..... Sir Lancelot ..... found himself drifting into a haziness between sleep and wakefulness. He did hear, though, this fellow ..... Merlin wasn't it ..... speak to him. He repeated the word 'forest' to him or was it just something he was imagining. He also could feel the warmth of moisture building up in his lap.
Gaius ...... Arthur? He had never heard of this Gaius fellow ..... but Arthur ...... could it be the actual Prince Arthur that he was seeking. What were the chances of this? He, Lancelot, running into Prince Arthur Pandragon of Camelot's .... how likely was that? He must be dreaming, that was the only explanation possible, he thought, as he drifted slightly deeper into the blackness that surrounded him.
Lancelot had been on the road so long that he was not entirely opposed to taking a rest and a long nap right where he was, behind this log. He felt comfortable enough leaning up against it.
Lancelot could sense that the young man, Merlin, was standing over him, seemingly undecided over what to do. He mumbled, "don't concern yourself too much with me, but take care of my horse, Sher-Fore. He's a black Arabian stallion and should cone to you if you call him, as long as you are close by me," and once more Lance drifted off.
Lancelot dimly heard Merlin say something about food. He was indeed hungry since he hadn't had any real food in 3 days, but he could not rouse himself from his stupor without some external assistance. Suddenly he sensed that Merlin had run off. However, he did not know if he had just left him, permanently, or had gone off in search of his horse, or was searching for something else,
Stay there? Now where on Earth would he be going in his condition, he thought in his hazy mind. The real question, though, was where exactly was this Merlin boy going. Within moments, though, it was quite clear where Merlin had gone, as probably some of the coldest water that Lancelot had ever been drenched with, poured over his head and body ..... "ARGHHHHHHHHHHH!," he yelled as his eyes suddenly popped open, and the pain registered for the first time. Seeing Sher-Fore from across the clearing, he called, "Sher-Fore ..... here," as felt once more about ready to pass out.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 27, 2010 1:54:09 GMT -5
we're knights of the round table we dance whenever we're able we dine while here in camelot we eat ham and jam and spam a lot
Lancelot mumbled something about a horse, but Merlin ignored him and grinned at him, turning to look at the black Arabian horse that approached, seemingly just at the knight's call. Odd...did horses do that: learn to come when called like dogs? Or was he missing something? Every time he had ever tried to ride a horse the animal rarely did what he wanted it to, let alone come when he called. Could their possibly be...? No. Best not even think about the m-word.
He offered his hand, after another glance at Lancelot's face. Merlin was no physician, but a mixture of living with one of the above and common sense, he could see that the warrior wasn't looking his best, even though he had never seen him with his best foot forward yet.
"You all right?" He asked, speaking slowly and clearly. "I'll take care of your horse, but I should get you to Gauis."
but many times we're given rhymes that are quite un-sing-able we're opera men in camelot we sing from the diaphram a lot
LYRICS CREDIT: Knights of the Round Table - Monty Python
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Post by Deleted on Oct 1, 2010 16:44:30 GMT -5
He wondered just how intelligent this manservant must be. From what he remembered about court, servants did not have their positions after passing an intelligence test. They were often smarter than they were given credit for. But what was the problem with this one, was he dumb or was he just hard of hearing. He seemed too young for that problem. besides, Lancelot found him to be a likable sort, and with what he had just been through could rattle anybody, Lancelot reasoned with his now befuddled mind. Lancelot remembered that he had called Sher-Fore, so even if this Merlin couldn't, he would come.
At least, Lance thought, this Merlin was offering him a hand, and he did seem to be at least somewhat appreciative for what he had done for him. After all, he had basically decide to lay down his life for the younger man. He saw Merlin's eyes travel down to his lower abdomen, and figured that he was looking at the ever-growing stain that his wound was producing. he wondered, as well as hoped, that his new friend knew something about the treating of wounds.
At least he hoped he would be a friend, especially after what Lancelot had risked for him. And if he didn't know what to do, he hoped the manservant to Prince Arthur would at least know where to take him. "Oh yes," Lancelot got out before he groaned again, "I make it a habit of getting wounded by strange beasts for people I've never met before ..... never felt better," he replied with a thin smile. "And just who or what is this Gaius," he asked.
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