A little short today, but hey, that happens sometimes.
So quick recap: Sir Tristram is the best at everything, the lovely Isoud is the hottest damosel in Christendom, and King Mark secretly hates Tristram for sleeping with Mark’s former mistress. Mark can’t sleep at night, he’s so consumed by thoughts of revenge. But how? How? This is what keeps Mark up at night.
Then one day he has it! He calls Tristram to him.
“Nephew,” he says, “You have been telling everyone in Cornwall about the lovely Isoud and how insanely hot and lovely and awesome she is.”
“And so I simply must meet her. Would you mind terribly going back over to Ireland and fetching her?”
“Oh, no, that’d be fine…”
“Then I will marry her. She sounds so very fine, after all. A suitable bride for me, your king!”
“That is our plan, yes? It will be good politics with Ireland, and has nothing to do with spiting you,” Mark assures him.
“Well, you’re the boss,” says Tristram reluctantly.
Now, just because all of King Anguish’s court hates him, that’s not going to stop Tristram from going over and fetching the lovely Isoud. Tristram’s happy to do it! But he doesn’t fly off half-cocked. Tristram gets all the best Cornish knights together, and they do some team-building exercises and then load up together on a ship, and set sail for Ireland.
But then there’s a storm of something, long story short, they put in at Camelot. I’m not sure how the geography here works. I didn’t realize Camelot had a harbor. But anyway, Tristram and his Cornish buddies all pile out of their ship, and they look around, and they decide to chill at Camelot for a little while. Tristram sets up a tent, they cook some bratwursts, listen to the game, it’s a good time.
Before too long, a couple of Arthur’s knights show up. One of them is Sir Ector-the-Lesser, who we’ve encountered before a few times, and the other is Sir Morganor, whom we haven’t and whose name sounds like it was produced by some kind of automatic Knight Name Generator that reshuffles syllables. They ride up, they say hi, and they joust Tristram, for funsies.
Tristram wins, of course, and afterwards Sir Ector-the-Lesser lies on the grass, and he’s like, “whoa, who are you anyway?”
Apparently this hadn’t come up before the joust.
Tristram explains himself, in brief, as a knight from Cornwall.
“Cornwall? Really? Oh, man. I’ve been beaten by a Fighting Gamecock? That’s so embarassing!” Sir Ector-the-Lesser is overwhelmed with shame, pulls his armor off, and refuses to ride his horse, as penance for losing to a Cornishman.