Chapter I

VictortheMonarch

Victor the Crusader
Now then, I know what you're thinking. "BUT VICTOR! Isn't that an old Disney movie!" Yes, Yes it is. More Importantly, It is a Pixar movie. Otherwise, I would never have written this as I abhor Disney. Fucking sexist, racist cunts who're too busy ignoring the Rape & Murder Uyghur People's. And on top of that firing women because they do not bend over and kiss their ass. You know, like sexist cunts. Walt Disney is rolling in his grave, as he loved his wife and would never have treated her like that! Anyways, I got inspired to do this by reading this: A prize won... Wait, what did you say I won again?. Fun little story, ain't it? Wonderful writing and the likes.

Now, Onto the story!


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OILAM

The Trembling feeling never quite stopped.

I didn't quite understand it. It's not my fault that fat ass got in the way! cunt shouldn't had appeared suddenly! and by an open window nonetheless! It's his fault I'm dead, at least that's what it feels like. As I fall, I hit the ground. But instead of the painful asphalt that would flatten me against the wishes of gravity, instead, I got a faceful of dirt, and the feeling of my cloths being significantly heavier. Grasping the object in my hand, I open my eyes, to see a sword. The blade was snapped close to the Chappe. Behind the broken blade, I see a battlefield. Men fighting other men, sword and shield. piss and blood. My eyes widen as my body dodges to the left on instinct, as the ground I once laid in was caved in by a warhammer. The man wielding the hammer was huge At least twice my size I'd reckon! His black hair and blue eyes cascaded with the black stag on a yellow field that was his coat of arms.

Enraged the man brings the hammer up again, only to miss as I dodge again, the dirt of a few inches away spattering against the leather shirt I wore. I dodged again, as instead of pulling back, he'd rather ram me from the side with it, earning me a cut from elbow to thumb. I grab the first thing I could, a small oak log that had a branch like a handle, and old it over myself. It blocked the hammer, at the cost of bringing me to my knee's.

He swung the hammer again, and like solid steel the oak held up, though the pain my arms was unbearable, I was alive. He swung again, and again, but the log never failed. The oak stood true. Instead of continuing a downward assault, he instead swings left to right, I was barely able to pull the oak down, though I was still send flying.
I landed face down, pain strung from my chest, I had indefinitely broken a rib on my fall. I crawl forward, in an effort to get up, and find myself touching a large rock. It was imbedded into the ground, and the jagged edges of it were cutting into my palm, but I cared not, as I saw hope. I saw a sword.

It was imbedded into the rock, but I'm certain that If I could pull it free, I would be safe. I could defend myself. Looking back at the man who was attacking me, he was slowly edging towards me. Like a lion to it's prey, but his prey has an escape route, and I'll take it, even if it fails me. I stand up, the pain in my chest was slowly ebbing away at my ability to stand, but through hope, and the want to persevere, I pushed forward, and grabbed it's handle.

The handle felt like molten nails embedded into my skin, and whispers of killing innocents and turning back, for the fear of greater pain, I nearly released the sword. BUt I knew I couldn't. I Pulled, and the sword was loose. I knew nothing as the man ran towards me, and I dodged his strike, that blew the stone into the air like nitroglycerine to dirt. I used this chance, as I thrust the sword through him. Though the cloth, and through the iron cuirass, and the back of him, It like butter, and as his body hit the ground, a silence struck the battlefield.

"Did he... pull Caliburn from the stone?" I hear one man said as another spoke up. "Isn't that old King Uther of Gwent's boy?" and finally, one in rich armor of steel spoke up, taking his sword covered in blood and hoisting it to the air. "He has pulled Caliburn from the stone! As The Wizard Merlin said, He is our King! Hail King Arthur! King of Camelot!" a chorus of "Hail!" continued, as I collapsed, wondering what I got myself into.
 

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