Woe is me fair knights of the round table, a great challenge has befallen me. In his time of passing, the great and noble King Arthur, slain by Mordrid, bestow unto me the task, or i should say Curse of disposing of his mighty sword, Excalibur. He cried out to me, "I order you to throw my sword into the water and then come back and tell me what you saw there." I am on my way right now to this body of water nearby the battlefield, i wonder out loud to myself....what a waste this would be. Here in my possession is the mightiest of all swords, it could be used for such power, wielded by the best knights in the world, and i am supposed to just cast it out into the lake and never see it again? What kind of a man would waste such a gift from the heavens? A fool, thats who. But alas, it is Arthurs command to do this task, and his words carry such power. I ask you, friends of mine, knights of the round tables and wise folk, what would you have me do with such a power, this sword that shines so bright in the night. Cast it into the waters, never to be seen again? Or keep it by my side, and find a rightful owner, whether that be me, or another knight worthy of Excalibur.
These writings sadden me. "Stories" they call them. Or called them rather, now that I am returned they call them "histories" instead. I've had but a moment's rest... and yet they - these tiny "Britons" - tell me that millenia have passed. What's more, they tell me I am to save them.... They certainly look fragile enough - the tallest of them stands as my equal only when I am sitting - yet who am I to save them?
The blade that ended me may well have been my own and not Mordred's. When I began my reign, I was a worthy servant to my people. I thought only of protecting the weak and defending the helpless. How did it come to this? The nervousness I felt at my responsibilities faded over the years, replaced hubris and blood lust. From the slight paid me by Rome, I crafted the idea of conquering it, all in service of my glory while my people suffered without the service I was obligated to provide. Thoughts of my people turned to thoughts of myself, and the thrill of battle and of taking a man's life - asserting ultimate power over my foes - drowned the humbler bearings and noble intentions that I had previously held.
Alas, these ponderings will not serve. As a king I failed, and I was justly punished for it. Now I must be a savior, and I fear my faults taking hold of me once more yet I must succeed! Perhaps God himself sent me here to redeem my people as well as myself. Yes. I can do this, these Britons are in dire need, and yet how to help? I shall have to think more on this matter later, my bite-sized companions wish to teach me more of their language.
-Arthur, king no more