-To All of England

Thou real King has died.

Oh our dear king, noble and honorable until the end. Attacking the fiend Mordred head on along with sword Excalibur, showing who the serpent was from the king dream. The battle between Mordred to the death ended with the demise of both but Arthur came out with the upper hand. A true battle of honor was tested today, many men fell. I found myself tested when the fate of the legendary sword Excalibur was placed in my hands, in awe of its valiant reputation I was, at first, unable to follow our dying king’s request. How dishonorable could I be? Entrusted to me was a task by our king and I was unable to fulfill his order. Dammit. Knowing the importance of the mighty sword, I returned to the lake finally. The third time’s a charm. Curse my dishonorable actions!! Allowing the fear of losing Excalibur to sway me was a sign of treachery, never again will I allow such things to affect my better judgment.

As I stand in front of you today and as the Kingdom mourns and our round table, I ask you to celebrate his great accomplishments and remember his name.

Hail Arthur!!!!!!

Sir Bedevere 

“A King may have all the most luxuriant richness of the world, which draws the magnetic fascination of all his people but he is nothing without his men. His diction may be beyond magniloquent and a hundred men may stand behind his side but there will only be a few that he can ever trust by his stride. My gallant brother Kay… the mountain shadows that mingle with life, which lay like pools above the earth is the spear thrust strength of your prowess. The night may yawn with fouled winds but your phantom countenance ensures the safety of my knights. Gawain the strong. No axiom can be fluent in of your vigorous prominences that grazes through souls as suave as blades. Sir Lancelot, the knight who all evil are grim of, shuddering in mere fascination, you lay a hint of death in the ice breath of the gale. Virulent in skirmish, you stride beside me from the rescue of my wife when great pang gripped her heart from these castles. Your great soul can never be smitten nor scourged. And all my other men within the round table from Bedivere who held my shield the knight we fought that disgusting beast above the crags! And all men who serve my table, REMEMBER YOUR LEGACY! A King is nothing without his men as his men is nothing without their king! Legends will speak of our triumphs! They will speak of how my thrust smite the foul ghoul who ate the christened children and my queen’s cousin! They will speak of Kay’s death as nothing more than honorable beyond words”
 Arthur’s lips slowly started to spill the blood of the heaven’s holding his exposed wound.
“None will  forget the Roundtable. Our stories will be told. The search of the Holy Grail, The Green Knight, my dear nephew had once fought,  Percival's redemption, Tristian's and Isolde's love and even with your treachery Mordred, you can never kill an ideal. You can never kill a legend. Bastard son of my witty sister! This field may be stained of my blood but stories of my greatness will continue to spread along the shores. Gawain’s fall will be remembered more than your pitiful victory. Lancelot’s skirmish with Lucius shall also be reminisced. My fringe with duke Lovarraine, my siege at Metz shall also be remembered…but not this sin Modred! These final words I rebuke upon you in the name of God! I shall forever rest in the fourteen realms of Heaven while you dwell in the lakes of fire! My Kingdom will fall right here for now but Breton will rise again and conquer! I shall be the perpetual in Avalon as the blood of Hector bless these grounds while you remain temporal… They will only remember you...” whispered Arthur, drawing his final breath; as my sin…my men's soul will stand beside me in the grandest Heavens. They are always by my side.."