After the defeat to the French at Castle Aargh, an exhausted King Arthur Pendragon returned to Camelot with the few remaining men, but with the plague still at large, the French soldiers lurking and many a strange monster roaming sbout, Arthur had no choice but to let most of the Knights of the Round Table go. Arthur’s hope was that the Knights would at least go and fight evil in the name of the Britons and the Round Table, but Camelot’s treasure was not able to support yet another full-blown campaign. As it turns out, having not been at his seat of power, and allowed the Knights at Camelot to turn it into such a silly place, meant that the coffers were all but empty.
But Arthur was never one to admit defeat; just think of what historians some thousand years later would think? Gone were some of his best men, Sir Galahad presumed to be dead at the bridge in scene 24, Sir Bedevere were captured by strange folk at Castle Aargh, Tim the Enchanter had also returned to the Badlands, and Sir Lancelot’s whereabouts were currently unknown. Sir Robin was also gone, but that thought didn’t really cross Arthur’s mind. There were bigger problems in his rather undefined kingdom. Now scout reports told of a strange appearance, apparently coming in from the sea, the highly invasive Swedish Møøse had already made a few simple settlements along the coast. Further north, the savage tribes had been more bold in their raids on the villages, possibly spurred on by a change in leadership. Arthur was in need of two things, well, three, if you count the Grail, but those two things were men, to storm the Castle Aargh if needed, and money to pay said men.
Arthur’s problem was obvious; no men meant that no-one was out collecting bounties to fill his coffers, and without money, he could not supply men to go out and hunt for these bounties. But then, when Arthur was at his lowest, having had yet another fairly one-sided conversation with God about the aspects of a good groveling, an angel appeared before Arthur. Arthur was quite dumbfounded by this, as the angel wasn’t wearing any clothes. The angel spoke to Arthur, who was staring rather intently, as it was turning colder outside (Arthur did not have the money to renew his rockwool membership). “Arthur, King of the Britons, I am Saint Victor, God senteth me to aid thee, so that thou would stop thine moaning of his name in vain. I am contractually obligated to inform thee that,” in that moment, the clouds parted and God, fairly cross after dealing with several flocks of coconut-carrying African Swallows, said, “GET ON WITH IT!”
Saint Victor then informed Arthur of a stone circle some days east of Camelot, here would he find, if his faith was strong enough, a band of strange travellers who would be willing to help his cause, without promise of pay, but Arthur might had to assure them healthcare, after all, it was no-longer the 800’s anymore. Arthur’s mood brightened to a smile, and hastily he strode towards the stable where Patsy the 2nd were sleeping; this was his chance of reassembling the Knights of the Round Temple, get revenge on the French for their insults and, FINALLY, obtain the Holy Grail.
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