Special double post! It’s only because chapters 5 and 6 of Book I run together without a good breakpoint, mid-conversation. There are several bits like this scattered about later in the text; I’ll deal with them on a case-by-case basis. … Continue reading →
Uther’s death! As promised! It’s actually pretty sad. Time goes by, a year or two, and before things have really gotten properly settled Uther gets some kind of unnamed lingering disease, which could be anything from tuberculosis to stomach cancer … Continue reading →
This is a short one. Just as Merlin predicted, Igraine — now Uther’s wife and the queen of England — is pregnant. By the time she enters her third trimester, her new husband starts to suspect something, so he asks … Continue reading →
Right, Sir Ulfius and Merlin. Ulfius runs back to Uther, tells him how Merlin was there, and Uther’s like, what? you liar, I don’t see Merlin. Merlin is waiting outside, in fact; apparently he’s like a vampire in that he … Continue reading →
“It is like reading jousting fanfic by the world’s worst jousting fanfic writer.” — Brant Casavant “Have fun. I’d sooner listen to an audiobook of the worst parts of the Silmarillion read by Ben Stein.” — Chris Vaughn “Le Morte … Continue reading →
For about a year, until yesterday, I was running in this space a microfiction series I wrote around 2006 or so, the “Splendid Little Lexicon.” It started out a sort-of gazetteer of an imagined fantasy setting and drifted into something … Continue reading →
Dejected, Launcelot wandered off. He searched for a spiritual advisor to help him, as Nacien had done before. But the Grail quest was over, Nacien gone! Instead Launcelot stumbled into the hermitage where the Archbishop of Canterbury and Bedivere dwelled. … Continue reading →
Hey, remember Sir Launcelot? Remember how he was conspicuously absent for several scenes? Turns out he’d been chilling in Benwick the whole time. He got the letter from Sir Gawaine but assumed it was just Gawaine being a dick again, … Continue reading →
After a few minutes Bedivere and Lucan found them. They hauled Arthur and Mordred’s body to the nearest shelter, an abandoned chapel. Within, they took a quick inventory: Bedivere wounded, Lucan badly wounded, Arthur very badly wounded, and Mordred dead. … Continue reading →
Arthur woke up, again, and this time instead of going back to sleep he called in what remained of his brain trust, Sir Lucan the Caterer and his brother Sir Bedivere, who were literally the last Round Table knights in … Continue reading →
