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Post by Lancelot Du Lac on May 14, 2010 20:39:17 GMT
Lancelot saw that she had gone from the boldness of direct eye contact to the exact obvious .....almost refusing even to look up, let alone look him in the eyes. Even though he face was angled down, though, he could see some hints of flushed cheeks. He found that to be fairly attractive in a flirtatious sort of way, although it was obvious she needed some cleaning and tending to. He imagined, though, when, she had suddenly awoken, and seen him, that she had been quite shocked,even though wasn't holding a blade to her throat or anything similar.
Lancelot was beginning to wonder if she was capable of speech or at least English. Perhaps she was Spanish or Portuguese, or maybe even Dutch. No ..... none of those seemed to be quite right. Was it possible that she was french, the country of his birth. Actually the part of Gaul that he was from had been claimed by both French and English lords for years. It was obvious that she needed help, but how was he supposed to communicate. Communication was a two-way kind of thing, now, wasn't it? In lieu of information, what exactly was she, a noble or a slave, and where did she belong, or who did she belong to?
"Well, at last ..... that's at least an improvement," as she no longer looked at the ground and bent her head up, and she at least began to nod at the things he said. Either she was just being polite ad nodding whenever he spoke, or she understood what he was saying, and was agreeing, at least with questions of whether she wanted help. "Let me consider this," he mused. He had no idea how long she had been out here. Its possible she had been days without food. Water looked pretty plentiful. If that's the case she may be a bit too weak to respond, but he sure would have appreciated some attempt at something that sounded like speech. She still didn't speak, but she did stand up, as did her horse, almost together, and she appeared to smile at it.
Lance couldn't hear them, but he could just barely hear that she was whispering words, apparently what she intended to be soothing words for her horse, who obviously she had known for some time. It was also clear, by their interaction, a closeness which indicated a long relationship with. This was not a peasant. Peasants did not have horses like this, and be familiar like this with them.
Finally she spoke, and this time, even though it was obvious she didn't really want to, identified herself. Before she did, thankfully, she had re-sheathed her little sword ...... not that he felt threatened by the little thing in her hands ..... but it was a sign of trust. "Enide Coedwallider? ..... That's quite a mouthful. Now .... are you sure nothing goes in front of Enide, since I would not expect a peasant to have a horse unless they borrowed or acquired it by some more creative means," he said with a straight face.
"Hmmmm ....I would think you would be the first person to know how far you have traveled." Lancelot Waited there, standing by his horse, with his arms folded, and a quite serious look on his face, wondering exactly what she was going to surprise him with next. Certainly the way she was suddenly looking at him, almost with a challenging stare, was not very peasant-like.
"Well, finding a young woman in the midst of a dense forest, filled with all sorts of dangerous creatures, a knight is bound to have many questions. As long as you have told me who you are, I don't see any harm in that. I am Sir Lancelot of Huntingdon, visiting in Camelot at the moment. As far as finding you I just happened to come across you as I was traveling through the forest. Do you have enough strength to climb on your horse, while I lead you out of the forest. Or is there somewhere other than Camelot that you would prefer to travel to. If you were wondering I am not one of King Uther's Knights of Camelot. Now ..... what say you .... do you want to come with me, or are you so weak that I'll have to carry you out of the forest?"
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Post by Lancelot Du Lac on May 13, 2010 21:31:21 GMT
Travel ling alone often gave Sir Lancelot plenty of time to think. he thought about decisions he had made and things he had done in the past that caused him to arrive at his place in the present. He also thought a lot about where he was going to end up in the future. His life was curiously one of opposites. He had once had a family, but now they were all gone. He could have had Gwen, but he had given her up for a higher duty that he felt to a Prince and a friend.
As he broke through the trees into the little clearing he had little thought of running across another human in the dense undergrowth of the Forest of Balor, let alone a rather comely young lady. But what exactly was she? Was she a noble or was she a peasant? and whatever she was what was she doing out here in the middle of nowhere. There were many questions, and right now, at the beginning, no ready or obvious answers.
He stood there before the vision before him, watching her eyelids slowly flutter as she, apparently, tried to bring herself grudgingly out of the slumber that she currently found herself. Lancelot thought she might be on the very edge of wakefulness, where dreams,nightmares, and reality meet. he thought she might just think that he was part of her dreamworld and not a real person. obviously, he thought, someone in the middle of the Forest of Balor was more than likely someone who was trying to escape from someone. Seeing someone like Lancelot, dressed as a night, though covered in a cloak was not bound to be very reassuring.
as proof of that fear he saw her apparently clench her hands around the hilts of two small weapons. The horse stirred next to them and a bird aloft shrieked, and he thought it was only a matter of moments before the ruckus stirred her completely from her slumber. he saw from closer examination that her clothes were sopping wet and he hands, although they were undoubtedly once fine, were now heavily blistered. it was obvious that she needed warm dry clothes and some medical attention. He even heard her groan slightly.
Once more, he asked, "Excuse me, milady, but are you quite all right. Do you need some help or assistance?" She awoke with a start, backed up, and drew a sword. However, it was quite clear that she did not know how to handle the weapon that she now wielded. "Re-sheath that sword before you hurt yourself or someone else, and tell me me who you are, why you are here, and how you got yourself in the condition you find yourself, eh?"
Hmmmm ...... what was this girl's game he wondered or was she really s inept as she appeared, he wondered. "Well, my dear, you are not likely to find one to serve in the midst of the Forest of Balor. Your chances would be much higher in somewhere like Camelot, don't you think." The way her eyes met his she appeared to be someone of noble extraction. But what would a noble be doing here he wondered. It didn't make any sense ... not any at all. Did it? There was something strange about her voice, but what was it?
Suddenly, though, she looked down, almost as if she remembered it was something she had forgotten to do. Or if she had neglected to act in a way that was befitting of a peasant, rather than a noble. Indeed she was a curious individual, or simply acting in a curious way. Undoubtedly, this one would have an interesting tale to tell. perhaps it would be best to simply take her on to Camelot and have the authorities there come to a decision. "Come now, young lady, it is time for you to do some explaining, don't you think?"
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Post by Lancelot Du Lac on May 12, 2010 21:20:40 GMT
Lancelot had been out on the road for several days. He was taking a general track to the southwest from Huntingdon in Wessex on his way to southern Briton. It had been nearly a year since he had been this near Camelot. It was not until he had started out on his travel that he had heard if the growing tensions and conflict between Camelot and Gore. As a result he had minimized his time on the main road to Camelot and had determined to skirt around the edges of the fortified city through the surrounding forests. He imagined that he was still not on King Uther's list of favorite knights.
It wasn't unusual for this part of the island, this time of year to have several days of rain, and i appeared that the weather had fallen into that pattern. Moving through the forest had its own set of difficulties, problems, and threats. It was difficult country to walk through, and even more-so to ride a horse through. Then there were the unusual and sometimes fatal creatures that you had to keep your eyes peeled for. There was one positive though. On the main road there was nothing to protect you from the falling rain, but in the forest the canopy of foliage deflected much of the rain. Therefore, even though it was raining, right now anyway, he wasn't getting wet.
He had not seen any unusual creatures, or humans for that matter. Wherever he had been, he had had a sterling reputation as a knight, except perhaps in Camelot. At first, he might not be looked as imposing physically. He was taller than most, standing at a little bit over 6 feet, and was a lean but quite muscled 175 pounds, with dark features, dark fairly long hair, and dark eyes. He was wearing his colors as a knight of Huntingdon of Wessex, but his fighting attire was pretty well all covered up by his brownish-green traveling cloak. The hilts of both of his long-swords stuck up just above each shoulder from sheaths that went down his back, and his round shield he cried on his back,in the manner of the ancient Spartans. Slowly, mainly due to the brush and trees,as well as the pelting rain that made it through the canopy of foliage, slowed him down a bit in his movement through the Forest of Balor.
He was on his way south, in this painstaking path that he had laid out to see if her could offer his services to some lord or lady in the south. He had served the Earl of Huntingdon well in a short time and had received excellent references from him as he elected to move on. The only thing he thought he knew for sure was that his services would not be welcomed by King Uther of Camelot, and he would not fight for an enemy of Camelot, so he had to move on.
Lancelot had been moving through some of the densest foliage he had encountered when he suddenly broke out into a clear space. Just head he saw a fairly attractive young lady sitting on a bank next to her horse, apparently asleep. But her cheeks, they looked wet and moist, as if she had been crying recently. he wondered if she was hurt or ill. As quietly as he could he approached in silence and asked with a soft tone and a deep voice, "Excuse me, milady, but are you quite all right. Do you need some help or assistance?"
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Post by Lancelot Du Lac on May 12, 2010 15:37:55 GMT
Lancelot noticed that she found his question about her leg fatigue to be somewhat amusing. He not sure, though, how he should take her laughter. It did not seem that she took the comment as a real joke, and he knew that it was not meant as a joke from his perspective. Perhaps it was not a good idea for her to sit here in the first place, he thought. "So ..... army training ..... taking care of horses ..... working in the stable ...... where and which stables do you work in," he asked, newly interested in the woman who sat across from him. "Yes, that could explain your leg issues."
He suddenly noticed a change in the way that she was communicating with him. When she had first sat down she seemed bit more separate and aloof. Now, she seemed to be making a specific effort to be more communicative. He wasn't exactly sure why, but he welcomed it. It just made the situation much more comfortable. "Well ..... its a pleasure .... Beth ..... I think."
He thought he noticed a physical reaction that indicated a surprise at his initial comment, but she seemed to recover from whatever her surprise that she had. As he went through the short version of his story he noticed that she seemed to be stretching out and relaxing more, which allowed him to relax some more as well. "I'm not sure about that. I'm sure that you have had some interesting experiences as well. I'm not one who is so elevated in my opinion of myself to think that way, necessarily." After he asked his question and heard her response, he flushed slightly. "I guess I should take that as a complement," he said chuckling, taking another drink from his tankard, and nodded back, acknowledging her friendly wink. "Well, let me know what your investigation shows, eh," he said, laughing lightly.
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Post by Lancelot Du Lac on May 12, 2010 10:43:43 GMT
At first, he could not tell whether the woman was paying much attention to his approach. That was why he basically felt that he had to block her path. He did not particularly like to force himself on others. He had always believed that it was a knight's duty to protect and to serve, not just a king or earl, but all of the subjects of the kingdom they served. He did not feel that unless the survival and protection of the kingdom was involved, that it was his place to interject himself where he was not wanted. In this case, given how alone and unattended she appeared to be, he wondered, first, if she knew where she was going, and second, what kind of danger she was out here on the main road. This was not the way that Lancelot had come to Camelot on his first visit. he had run into Merlin in the Forest of Balor, he thought. He had just barely managed to save Merlin's life when it was threatened by the Griffin, and Lancelot had to get some injuries attended to by Gaius, the Camelot court physician. He had definitely not seen this great thoroughfare, until he had ridden away from Camelot. Indeed he expect this woman's story to be interesting, given where she was.
Lancelot saw, as he approached, that she did seem to be paying attention to him. It appeared that she was turning her head toward him, and her eyes seemed to be tracking her. He decided to let Sher-fore take his time with the water and what little grass was available. He had not been on the main road to Camelot much, especially recently, and he assumed the lack of travelers, was due to the possibility of conflict. Still, she did not seem to be desiring to take flight, whether he was rising toward her, or just standing, and walking slowly toward her. The hilt of his weapons were fairly obvious, but his knight's attire was hidden pretty well under his traveling cloak, which was getting pretty caked with road dust now, after several days of travel In fact, he had been just considering whether he should head off the main road, and begin angling south away from Camelot.
He had decided that Sher-fore had had both enough water and grass, and was time to intercept this woman, and see what her business was out on the dangerous highway. He took care to slowly approach, not knowing whether she would suddenly bolt, or if she was indeed the bait for a trap, that some highwayman would jump out from the tall grass. Finally, though, as he approached, she decided to address him, and at least in some strange way, she seemed to be amused. "Just because you say that you aren't carrying anything of value, does not mean that others will believe you. And even i they do, they may decide to take other liberties with your person that might not be too pleasant. Very well, then, my worry for your person seems to be unfounded, and I will not worry over you. I am not one that will do violence to a maiden, unarmed or well-defended. Where art ya heading out for, as long as you are determined to stay on this dangerous pike?"
He noted, now, that the tone of her conversation did change, but he did wonder what its meaning was. At any rate, as her tone became more respectful, he began to chuckle and then practice a deep-throated laugh. However, it was not because of her tone, but what her words told him. "Camelot? ..... Camelot is your preferred destination. If that is so, why is it with every step that you trod, that you are taking yourself farther and farther away from the place you are trying to get?"
"I am Sir Lancelot, former serving knight of the earl of Huntingdon in Wessex. I am traveling, generally south in Briton, seeking employment as a serving knight of some noble there, but not in Camelot, and I had tired of struggling through the forest. Now ..... I may not be going all the way to Camelot, but if you jump up here behind me on Sher-fore's back, I can take you almost all of the way to the safety of Camelot. It will be faster and easier on your feet, and Sher-fore is a strong and able-bodied Arabia. So ..... what do you say and what is your pleasure," as he remounted his horse and extended his hand downward to assist her in climbing aboard if she chose to.
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Post by Lancelot Du Lac on May 9, 2010 21:29:35 GMT
Roe was never that comfortable around women. he had to admit, though, they seemed to be attracted to him or some reason. He much preferred the training field, or the field of combat with other soldiers. Otherwise, he tended to spend much of his time, alone working with wood, curiously enough. In much of his in-between time he occupied himself by whittling on small blocks of wood, often creating figures from memory. His comrades often found that to be curious. In this particular, instance, though, he had given up his solitary state and offered her a chair.
"You're quite welcome. Are you quite sure about the drink ..... it wouldn't be any trouble." After several moments, he considered what she had said, and it sounded as if she had made her mind up. "Very well, then, as you desire." She seemed to indicate that she was looking more for rest than for relaxation through drink, but it did confuse him somewhat. "Why, I thought I saw you ride up and hand your horse off to the same boy I gave mine too. Normally, riding a horse doesn't tire the legs, that is, unless you came a great distance," he said with a slightly inquiring voice. Lance noticed the strange expression she had on her face, but was not able to decipher it yet.
Suddenly, it seemed, she decided to introduce yourself. "Well Beth, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm Lancelot." He watched her as she rolled her sleeves up, and his eyebrows arched ever so slightly when he saw the blue Celtic tattoo. He saw the unusual pattern, but decided that it was not important that he ask questions about it. It raise some questions about where exactly she came from, though.
Once she finished with her sleeves she turned her attention back to him, by looking him straight in the eyes. "No," he said with a smile. "Nothing I have seen so far bothers me in the slightest.", he responded to her question. her next words were a bit of an admission. She obviously had some Celtic connection, and she was new to Camelot.
"I'm not exactly new to Camelot. I was here for a short time about a year ago. I left and served as a knight under the Earl of Huntingdon, in Wessex. So, I know a bit about the city. However, i have just arrived after that absence, and the looming conflict between Gore and Camelot really is news to me. In fact, I was not planning on staying long. There is little reason for me to stay." Her next comment surprised him, but he returned with a smile in return. "And what about me gave you that idea?"
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Post by Lancelot Du Lac on May 9, 2010 13:34:25 GMT
Sir Lancelot, formerly of Huntingdon, in Wessex, at least of the past several months, had been traversing through the forests that were adjacent to Camelot. He had heard of the troubles between the kingdoms of Camelot and Gore, and was endeavoring to keep his exposure on the Kingsway as long as possible before he turned south of Camelot toward southern Briton. He did not reckon that his place was likely to be with either side, but given the friends that he had in Camelot, he wished it the best, so that as many could come through unscathed as possible.
There had not been much grass for his horse, Sher-fore to feed on given the blocking foliage above, and they had crossed blessed few streams that were fit for drinking and muddied up from the recent heavy rains. However, he and his horse suddenly broke out of the thicket into a small area where there was both grass to eat and water. It was just that there were apparently two women just ahead.
They were the last things that Lance expected to find in the middle of the forest. One did not look threatening at all, where the other was attired as he would expect a fighting knight to be. His knight's uniform was entirely covered by his greenish-brown travelling cloak, except for the hilts of his 2 long-swords that stuck up slightly from behind his shoulders. His shield, he carried on his back, much as the ancient Spartans did. Before they turned to suddenly find him there amongst them, to their shock, he had overheard them talking of trying to find their way out of the forest.
"Rest easy, women, I mean you no harm. Although it is out of my way, and i am no Knight of Camelot, I would look on it as a happy duty as a knight of a different place, to show the path to the Kingsway. That is, if you desire some assistance." He wasn't sure if he liked the looks of, or trusted the one in armor, but the other almost seemed to have an aura about her, and he was not about to withdraw his offer. It would not be an honourable act, so he waited for their response.
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Post by Lancelot Du Lac on May 9, 2010 1:48:48 GMT
As he had noted when he had first taken his seat, most of the patrons had given him quite a bit of space. With nobody to talk to he rather quickly drained his tankard of Ale, and he signakled the barmaid, pointed down at his drained tankard, signaling for another to be brought. This one, he thought would be his last, and as a result, he was planning on stretching the drink out across a longer course of the evening. After all, he had not had much to eat, so it would be a wiser idea not to drink too much too fast. After all, he didn't have anyone to protect his back here.
For the first time, though, since he had had his first sight of Camelot, after these many months, he was beginning to relax. the first ale, he thought, was probably having its desired effect, and after all, he would only be in Camelot overnight. Early in the morning he would be on his way. he did wonder, though, about the people he knew here, or had known. They were under threat from their neighbors, and he wasn't even sure what the issues were. he hoped that everything turned out well for them. he especially worried about Arthur, and his manservant, Merlin. he knew that Arthur would be one of the leaders, if not the leader, of Camelot's forces, and it was likely that Merlin wouldn't be far away.
As he looked at the doorway, he suddenly saw that his view was blocked by a person giving some coins to the same boy he had paid to watch his Arabian. Obviously, they had just dismounted and wanted him to watch their horse as well, he thought to himself. They appeared to be a woman, as far as he could tell, but he didn't have the best of views. She entered the Ram, and since he could see his horse once more, he took little note of her. Suddenly though, there was a person standing in front of him, and it appeared to be the woman that he had just seen enter the Ram, and she was asking him a question. No one had even spoken to him since he had entered, but she had walked straight up to him and had asked, with a smile. What was it that she wanted? "Oh ...... no .... not at all ...... be my guest ..... would you like some drink ..... what would you prefer?," he asked, he hoped, in as polite a manner as this establishment deserved.
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Post by Lancelot Du Lac on May 9, 2010 0:55:54 GMT
Lancelot had not even planned on passing through Camelot, let alone stop there. He had heard about the growing conflict, but had decided to travel the main highway, as dangerous as that was. He had expected to travel on its relatively even surface, since that would be easiest on his horse, the fine Arabian, Sher-fore. the plan had been to get off the road somewhere short of Camelot and divert himself through the forest ,around it, on his way south. He doubted if the king's opinion had changed enough for him to join the Knights and he would never fight for an opposing side to Camelot, so why bother even wondering, let alone asking.
He had run into that woman on the road, and he had traveled closer to Camelot than he had intended, and it had gotten later than he imagined it was. Lancelot was not looking forward to another night camped in the forest alone, and with nothing but water to drink, with some good ale so potentially close. Why not head for the Ram? outside of a few people, people he probably would not run into, he wouldn't be recognized or remembered. He rode up to the Ram, tied his horse up otside with a good knot, htrew a coin to a boy to watch him, while he went inside for an ale or two. He would take it to a stable later on before he went looking for lodging.
He strode into the Ram, which was in a pretty bustling state, still wearing his greenish-brown travelling cloak. The only thing that hinted at his status as a knight ora fighting man, were the hilts of his 2 longswords that stuck out just above his shoulders through the top of his cloak, which were sheathed in 2 scabbards that ran the length of his back. He took a table off to the side, that was partly in the shadows, but close enough to the entrance so that he could see his horse outside. He quickly called to a barmaid, "A tall Ale if you would," and he through a couple of coins down. He was surprised with the space and latitude he was given, and the quickness with which his request was satisfied. He did not think he posed that menacing or demanding of a presence. He took a quick sip, and was determined to relax, at least for a bit.
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Post by Lancelot Du Lac on May 8, 2010 17:55:10 GMT
Lancelot was on the main highway that led to Camelot, but of course,he had no real intention of going there. He expected to turn off the main road long before he reached the city, and detour around it on his way south. He had been traveling through various parts of Wessex, basically serving as a fighting man in service to several Earls and Barons, in particular, the Earl of Huntingdon, who were seeking protection against raiding parties of Norse from northern region as well as rival Saxons. Lancelot had several advantages. First, he had a horse .... well actually .... he had acquired a new horse in trade for his previous horse and in trade for his service. he was told that the horse was an Arabian .... whatever that meant he had thought at the time, and its name was Sher-fore. He had found that its advantage was it could accelerate to great speed, more than any other horse, and he was jet black, making him almost invisible at night.
His skills were also an advantage. More or less he was self-taught when it came to swordplay and work with the lance. He thought that he was superior to anyone he had ever encountered when it came to the sword, except Arthur of course. Lancelot still longed for the day when he could ride side-by-side with Arthur and the knights of Camelot. However, he realized that that day was likely still far off. He had, only recently heard of the conflict that had befallen Camelot and its neighbor, Gore. He knew that he would not be allowed to fight for Camelot, as a knight, because of King Uther's attititude, and he as a formerly knighted Knight of Camelot, he could not fight against her. Although, it was against the wishes of his heart, he felt he had no choice but to avoid the place entirely, even in an hour off great need.
He had also been somewhat skilled with the lance, but his time and work with other knights had improved himself in that area of combat, although he had done well against the Griffin. Speaking of the Griffin he wondered how Merlin was doing, and if his secret was .... well .... still a secret. He also wondered whether Uther would ever agree to him being a knight. Lancelot actually was a knight ........ just not a knight of Camelot ..... only the king could confer that upon him .... but of course that was unlikely .... and not something he would openly request ..... to say such a thing out loud .... it wouldn't be the honourable thing to say or do.
Lancelot was actually on his way southwest, looking for additional work, but this time with the Britons, many of which were looking to be defended from some of the same Saxons that Lance had been defending from the northern Norsemen. He shook his head, "Life is indeed strange .... who you fight ... who you fight for. Speaking of which .... I wonder how Gwen is," he said smiling to himself. Deciding that his horse needed a drink, he stopped Sher-fore, and hopped down, acquiring a drink from a ditch on the side of the road. Given the local conflict, he understood that it was noyt wise to stay in one place for too long. Looking down the road, though,he saw something, but it was not a troop of soldiers, but a solitary woman. "Now, isn't that strange?," he said to himself, not to anyone in partiocular.
He found it to be quite strange. With all of the warnings about any travel, and especially any travel on the main roads in this area, and here was a solitary woman walking with no protection. Yes, it was very peculiar. As soon as Sher-fore was done drinking, he led his horse down the road, planning to stop this woman and ask what her business was on this road. However, he did not want to scare her too much, and ride up as an aggressive knight, so he thought a walking approach would be best. Within moments he was blocking her path. "Excuse me, my apologies for interrupting you on your journey..... but ...... did you not know how unsafe it is to travel on this road ..... when Camelot is at war? Or are you a local person,with a only a short distance to travel. I assure you I mean you no harm."
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Post by Lancelot Du Lac on May 8, 2010 14:00:15 GMT
Name: Lancelot Du Lac Age: 23
Sex: Male
Class: Wanderer/Knight
Appearance: Lancelot is 6 feet tall, 175 pounds, with long, dark-brown, unruly, and wavy hair, dark-brown eyes, medium-build, solid, lean, and quite athletic, dark and intense eyes, as well as a strong chin that he tends to lead with. He is dark-complected from his years laboring outside as he grew up in the village in northwestern Briton.
If he is not dressed in the mail and uniform of a night, he is seen wearing his grrenish-brown travelling cloak. He rarely uses a shield, and his lon-swords are held in scabbards that run the length of his back. The hilt of each sword extends just above each shoulder on either side of his neck. The majority of his wardrobe consists of muted shades of green and brown, they allowing him to merge easily into the colors and hues of a forest environment. Although his clothing does vary, it usually consists of a earth-brown shirt and pants, a thin leather belt, a green hooded mantle and a pair of well-worn leather boots. Stuck in his thin belt is a set of short-knives or daggers for close fighting. Otherwise, he travels light.
Character: At first meeting Lancelot appears to be quiet and reserved. He tends to evaluate, judge, and make decisions quickly. He doesn't like to expose himself emotionally. He has suffered much from personal loss and disappointment across his life. Perhaps, because of the destruction he has witnessed, he is happiest when he is serving others or creating something. Whittling figures out of wood tends to have a calming and soothing effect on him, because of the methodical work that’s involved. And often, with his memories and nightmares, tranquility is what he needs the most. He is now the most pleased when he is able to maneuver others into creating positive results. He is saddened by thoughtless behavior. He is intense, stubborn, and mechanically-gifted. As a result, in those few people he places absolute trust in, he is extremely loyal. He therefore has few friends but for those few he is willing to risk much. He has found that for whatever reason, that he doesn’t clearly understand, he has an attraction to the ladies. However, the one that he wants is beyond his reach, Gwen. Although he has a friendship with Prince Arthur that could be close, often their personalities mix like oil and water.
With destruction that he has witnessed he has now developed the strong desire to help those who can't help themselves, as long as it does not put him into direct conflict with those in authority, like King Uther, in Camelot. He has had only one real love in his life, and does not believe that he is destined for another. He has lost all of his family so he tends to be very protective of the families of friends and those who are under his direct protection, although some might consider him to be a bit distant and aloof. His parents died when he was quite young. He is distrustful of authority figures and strangers until they prove themselves to him. He does not want to put people close to him in needless jeopardy.
Since he has to rely on himself and his own survival skills from a young age he developed a significant level of self-confidence. Despite this self-confidence, he tends to see the positives in those around him much more quickly than he sees them in himself. His ambition as a young man, because of the violent loss of his family and friends in the village, was success on the battlefield, and he hoped, becoming a knight. His ultimate goal was to become a Knight of Camelot. Beyond this personal ambition, as he matured somewhat, was a desire to help the oppressed, as well. He has no real personal or professional ambitions for himself, other than eventually serving Camelot. One of the results of his first failed attempt to become a Knight of Camelot, was a dose of humility, as he left to further attain the proper skills of knight, so he might one day return to Camelot.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Confident, Skill with a sword, Horsemanship, Loyalty to others, Quick learner; Stubborn, Unwillingness to ask for help, People in distress, Attraction to Gwen, Willingness to sacrifice himself for Arthur and Merlin, Ability to get under Arthur’s skin
Magic: Has no magical skills, but is not opposed to the idea of magic, as Uther is, but wants to achieve what he can on his own abilities. He is aware of Merlin’s magical abilities, but his friendship means that he keeps that knowledge between them. He would never betray Merlin, even at the cost of his own life.
Weaponry Skills: Excellent swordsmanship, after a lifetime of training, perhaps almost an equal to the great Arthur himself
Character History: Lancelot Du Lac was born in a small village near a lake in northwestern Briton, as an only child of Ioan and Abagail. Despite the fact that he was not a noble, and was a member of the farming peasant class, Lancelot lived a comfortable life in his younger years. His father’s farm on the edge of the village provided more than enough to eat, and they had a horse, where as a lad he learned the crude elements of horsemanship. The nearby lake gave him an ample opportunity to swim and learn to fish during the warmer months. He was, from a young age, although thoughtful and reserved, did seem to have both an interest in horsemanship and to wood, since as soon as he was able, he like to cut on and work with wood. Since he was not apparently interested in farming, and he needed to learn a trade, it was decided to apprentice him to a carpenter at the age of 12. He took to the trade quickly, despite the fact that he was still developing an interest in horsemanship and fighting skills as he aged into his teenage years.
However, the relative tranquility and peace of his young life was soon to be disturbed. When he was the age of 13, a little more than a year after his apprenticeship had begun, he returned to his home village for a visit. As he approached he could see smoke rising from the area where he knew the village to be. Quickly running forward he found that his village was in the midst of an attack by a group of raiders from the northern plains, as he found out later. The villagers, being poorly armed, if at all, and with relatively little training in combat, quickly fell. Although he was not armed, Lancelot rushed into do what he could, as he tried to reach his parents home, when he was suddenly struck from behind in the head by the flat of a raider’s sword. He immediately fell unconscious to the ground, with all of the appearance of being dead, when he was actually only knocked out. When he came to and explored the remnants of the village he found that he was the only survivor, and found only the burned ash remnants of his parent’s home.
He returned to the place of his apprenticeship in the nearby village, morning his loss, and swearing to himself that he would never let something like that happen to him again, where he was defenseless against the tyranny and aggression of others. On the long walk back he committed himself to learning swordcraft, beginning to set up hi dream of becoming a knight. When he arrived back at his master’s shop he described what had had happened, and what he wanted to do. At first, his master thought that it was just a stage of mourning that the young Lancelot was going through. Although he continued to do his work well, it was obvious that he was spending all of his spare time attempting to learn and practice, with a wooden sword. His master was a man of some influence in the local community, and seeing how serious that Lancelot was about his stated dream, and being an understanding man, did what he could to give Lancelot the opportunity he desired. He prevailed upon a local knight to accept Lancelot as a page and to instruct him in the ways of a knight, and released him from his apprenticeship. Although Lancelot had considerable natural ability, this instruction would be invaluable.
Lancelot served the knight in gradually increased levels of responsibility, even participating in some combat eventually, and was released from his responsibilities at the age of 21, being told that there was no more that he could teach him. For the next couple of years he wandered central and northern Britain, doing both odd carpentry jobs to keep him in food and shelter, and offering his services to those he could, although he was not yet a knight. Finally, he ran across a young man, Merlin, who was in peril from the sudden appearance, of what Lancelot learned later was a Griffin. He wouod also find out later that Merlin was a wizard. As payment for saving his life, Merlin arranged for Lancelot to be allowed an opportunity to become a Knight of Camelot. Lancelot took advantage of the opportunity, passing the test of Prince Arthur, even though it was attained fraudulently. Shortly it was discovered by King Uther, and Lancelot was imprisoned. Prince Arthur, however, took it upon himself to free Lancelot, and Lancelot responded by riding out with Merlin, and with his magic, defeated and killed the Griffin. As a result Arthur demanded of his father to reinstate Lancelot as a Knight of Camelot, which Uthur refused. To prevent bad feeling Lancelot decided to leave Camelot, to hopefully learn more about being a knight, while also hoping to return and be accepted at some later date.
Additional Information:
Sample Roleplay: Lancelot had had no idea that his path was taking him as close to Camelot as it now appeared. He had been traveling through various parts of Wessex, basically serving as a fighting man in service to several Earls and Barons, in particular, the Earl of Huntingdon, who were seeking protection against raiding parties of Norse from northern region as well as rival Saxons. Lancelot had several advantages. First, he had a horse .... well actually .... he had acquired a new horse in trade for his previous horse and in trade for his service. he was told that the horse was an Arabian .... whatever that meant he had thought at the time, and its name was Sher-fore. He had found that its advantage was it could accelerate to great speed, more than any other horse, and he was jet black, making him almost invisible at night.
His skills were also an advantage. More or less he was self-taught when it came to swordplay and work with the Lance. He thought that he was superior to anyone he had ever encountered when it came to the sword, except Arthur of course. Lancelot still longed for the day when he could ride side-by-side with Arthur and the knights of Camelot. However, he realized that that day was likely still far off. He had also been somewhat skilled with the lance, but his time and work with other knights had improved himself in that area of combat, although he had done well against the Griffin. Speaking of the Griffin he wondered how Merlin was doing, and if his secret was .... well .... still a secret. He also wondered whether Uther would ever agree to him being a knight. Lancelot actually was a knight ........ just not a knight of Camelot ..... only the king could confer that upon him .... but of course he would never make a statement about his situation ..... to say such a thing out loud .... it wouldn't be the honourable thing to say or do.
Lancelot was actually on his way southwest, looking for additional work, but this time with the Britons, many of which were looking to be defended from some of the same Saxons that Lance had been defending from the northern Norsemen. he shook his head, "Life is indeed strange .... who you fight ... who you fight for. Speaking of which .... I wonder how Gwen is," he said smiling to himself. Deciding that his horse needed a drink, he stopped Sher-fore, and hopped down. Something about this area reminded him of something .... or someone. "That's it .... Merlin .... this is close to the spot where I first ran into Merlin .... and the Griffin. I wonder if Merlin ever comes back here .... I wonder if I'll ever see any of them again," he said with a shrug. and a long sigh.
Lancelot, riding on his steed, suddenly broke out of a thicket, his horse's last step snapping a fairly significant ranch as they broke through into the open, the sound crackling through the air. Lance saw a figure from the rear, that seemed somehow, familiar. And then he heard the voice: "Who goes there?" Immediately Lance recognized the voice as the only one it could be, Arthur. He had not seemed to have changed much in the months he had been gone, either in his physical presence, or in his attitude. Lancelot was also unable to see his sword-hand, and he assumed where it was, and what it was holding. He saw Arthur turn his horse slowly toward him, and Lance endeavored to one as non-threatening as possible.
For a moment he even considered retreating back into the forest, but knowing Arthur, he assumed he would just make chase. "I demand that you show yourself," Arthur commanded. Sir Lancelot chuckled softly to himself with the forward arrogance of the nobleman, as if he owned the road to such an extent that he was the only one who could travel it. "I am not hiding, my prince and liege. I would have hoped that, just being out of your presence these many months, that you would not have failed to recognize me as a friend, your highness" he said smiling tentatively, not knowing, in truth, what Arthur's reaction would be to his sudden appearance after all of this time.
[Optional] OOC Section: Name: Roe Location:U.S.A. How long have you been RPing for: 3 years Any other characters on the site?: No
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