Arthur now stood beside his father as he lay dying, mirroring the position his father had held only an hour prior. He looked at the winged sigil in his hands, it was one of the boss drops he had gotten while running the Hero ranked celestial dungeon.
Token of Grace, Type: Consumable, Rarity: Legendary; Made from the life force of an arch-angel and trapped in material gold, this item brims with the power of healing and life itself. Can save any creature at death’s door from any injury they are suffering. This only works to stop lethal wounds, not as a method of restoration.
Quantity:
1
With this he could save his father’s life, but there was only one token. Arthur looked to the bed next to his father’s where Mira sat, her head pressed to Lancelot’s chest as she wept over him. Despite their attempts to heal him, he was also dying. They couldn’t even regenerate his limbs, but that didn’t seem to be the cause of his labored breathing; it was something more than physical that ailed him.
“Arthur?” his father croaked.
“Yes father,” Arthur said.
“I’m sorry,” his father said. “I should… I should have told you.”
“Why father?” Arthur asked. “Why try to push that marriage on me and Guinevere when you knew the truth?”
“For the good of the Kingdom,” his father said. “I…I have always done what was best for the kingdom. Merlin would only agree to swear allegiance to you after my death if you bound his house tighter with the throne.”
“I cannot agree with your actions,” Arthur said. “But what’s done is done. Guinevere is gone and that alliance is gone with her.”
“What will… you do now?” his father asked, his breathing growing more and more labored.
Arthur crossed his father’s arm’s over his chest and straightened his back making a decision.
“I will do what is best for the kingdom,” he said, not letting the grief in him break his voice.
He laid a hand on Lancelot’s chest and the token disappeared. Lancelot took in a deeper breath his breathing steadying as King Arthur’s grew fainter than cut out entirely. Arthur took the golden crown from his father’s head, looking it over.
Crown of Camelot, Artifact IV, type: headgear; The Crown of Camelot, earned by Arthur I when he forged his kingdom from the broken kingdoms before him. This crown can only be worn by a direct descendent of Arthur I in the royal line of succession.
Spirit of Rulership: Your Spirit increases by 1 for every twenty ranks you have.
Authority of the King: Every oath sworn to your ancestors is now given to you. (creatures that are a higher rank than you are resistant to this with more resistance the larger to gap in rank).
Protection of the Crown: Your vassals within three hundred yards of you gain 1 to their Toughness for every oath sworn vassal within the radius. (Bonus Toughness goes up by 1 for every twenty ranks you have, range of ability goes up by ten yards for every twenty ranks).
Durability:
N/A
Weight:
6lbs
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Arthur raised the crown and placed it on his head.
There was no announcement from the System, but he still felt the crushing weight of responsibility that came with his newfound authority. He ran his hand down his father’s face, closing his eyes and turned.
He left the healer’s chambers, and the crowd of nobles standing outside when he emerged all turned their eyes to the crown on his head.
“My father is dead,” Arthur announced, silencing any doubt that might have lingered.
Merlin stepped forwards. “The King is dead, long live the King!”
“Long live the King!” the nobles chorused as they knelt before Arthur.
“Rise my lords,” Arthur said. “The time for all-out war is upon us. The treaties that once held our hands tied are gone. Raise your armies, bring out your weapons for war, call your gryphon knights to your sides. The Warlord has struck us a grievous blow to the heart of our kingdom, but we yet live, and as long as there is breath in my body, I will not stop until his evil is removed from this world.”
“And what of Dutchess Guinevere?” a minor lord asked nervously.
“Guinevere has slain the King and betrayed our kingdom; she is no longer a member of the nobility. She is a wolf’s-head and to be killed on sight,” Arthur said.
The nobles turned and left.
“You came to support my claim to the crown immediately despite the alliance you planned not coming to fruition,” Arthur said to Merlin.
“It will have its cost, but we will merely fall back on the marriage with my younger daughter as previously planned,” Merlin said his voice filled with absolute certainty.
“Is she your daughter?” Arthur asked sharply.
“Yes,” Merlin said darkly. “All my other children are mine; I had their blood checked personally.”
“I have already sworn to do so,” Arthur said. “But from now on, there had better be no tricks like this; you tell me everything.”
“Very well my king,” Merlin said, bowing his head. “But I expect to be there at the final battle.”
“When I face Mordred again, you will stand right by my side,” Arthur said. “Now, you most of all must prepare. I want to be able to march our entire army in one week. We can’t let the Warlord go unpunished for the massacre of Camelot.”
---
Kalesa felt the portal open and stiffened. She was empowered by the thousands of corpses and weapons that littered the endless battlefield that made up her divine realm. With a single thought the bodies of the warriors rose, their eyes glowing. The souls of the finest warriors in her long lifetime filled each of those bodies, forever bound to fight and die again and again here.
She turned as Falgest, god of Justice and the Heavens, stepped through the portal into her realm of influence.
“What are you doing here?” Kalesa snapped.
“I have come to discuss your champion,” Falgest said, sitting himself on a stone block across from her.
“I fail to see how my champion is any business of yours,” Kalesa said remaining standing. “You shouldn’t be here. The terms of the System are quite clear: our champions solve issues between us, not ourselves.”
“But your champion is the problem. He is becoming a growing threat,” Falgest said, his voice as calm and measured as a mountain.
“If you are upset that my champion is doing better than yours and all the others of your pantheon, that is not my concern,” Kalesa said with a scornful laugh, turning her back on him.
“Did you think we would not sense the void he carries within him?” Falgest asked, and Kalesa stiffened. “It would be bad enough if he was just carrying that void spirit, but he has embraced the energy of that place entirely. You know as well as I why we stopped fighting amongst ourselves and created the System. The Void is a literal poison to us. A god empowered not by our energy, but the void… it is anathema to us.”
“A single void ability does not make him a creature of the void,” Kalesa said.
“You can feel it,” Falgest said. “With every life he slew in Camelot that Void inside him grew stronger. I am asking you as one of the old gods to handle your own champion yourself. Find a way to strip that power from him or I will call a council.”
“The other gods would never agree to a council,” Kalesa scoffed. “There are to many issues that if put a vote would go against them. There is a reason we haven’t met in over seven millennia.”
“Do not be so sure,” Falgest said. “I have already spoken with Myria, Ontera, and Jeresh; they are in agreement with me as well. We united our power to keep the Void out of our world. Letting one our champions rise up and just open the doors for it is not something we will stand for.”
“Jeresh agreed with you?” Kalesa asked, surprised.
“He may be a bastard, but he needs a world to trick and inflict pain on,” Falgest said.
“But you didn’t speak with Thanadar,” Kalesa said.
“It’s a miracle we got him to sign the accords in first place,” Falgest said with a sigh. “He might let your champion rise to power just so he could see the world burn.”
“His greed would keep him from letting that happen,” Kalesa said.
“Perhaps, but his desire for destruction can not be overestimated,” Falgest said. “Of all the gods of Chaos, I dislike you the least, Kalesa.”
“I’ll bet you say that to all of us,” Kalesa said, finally sitting down.
“You may have lust for bloodshed and power, but you still impose your own sense of order on the world,” Falgest said with a shrug. “Can I leave you to handle this problem on your own.”
“I will get my champion to stop walking down the path of the Void,” Kalesa agreed with a sigh.
“And if he doesn’t?” Falgest pressed her.
“Then I shall remove him as my champion,” Kalesa said her blood red eyes as pitiless and emotionless as the never ending war that surrounded her.