OOC

Long ago, in the age of knights and chivalry, England was ruled by the benevolent King Arthur. Arthur had an adviser, a Wizard named Merlin, who once created 7 enchanted rings. One was given to Arthur himself, whilst the other six were given to his most well-known Knights of the Round Table. One of those knights was Sir Mordred, Arthur's nephew and son of the enchantress Morgause. Morgause was jealous of her half-brother, and convinced Mordred to rebel against him in an attempt to seize the throne of Camelot. Thus, a great battle ensued, resulting in Arthur and Mordred killing one another in a great duel. After the battle, Arthur's body was taken to the mystical island of Avalon, along with his ring, while his sword (Excalibur) was returned to the Lady of the Lake from whence it came. After Mordred's body was destroyed and his ring buried deep beneath the earth, the Knights of the Round Table disbanded and went their separate ways, eventually passing their rings from parent to offspring as time went on. 1,000 years passed, and in Present Day Winchester, England, Merlin (who is immortal) was alerted when he sensed that the black ring worn by Mordred had been unearthed. To his horror, Morgause had also lived all these years, searching for where the knights had hidden her son's ring. With the black ring in Morgause's possession, her intention was clear. She wished to wrench her son's soul from the depths of Hell so that he may once again walk the earth and attempt to take over the now modern England. Merlin summoned the 4 remaining rings to Avalon, along with their owners and a young descendant of King Arthur. Together they must take up arms against Morgause and the resurrected Sir Mordred, using their heirloom rings to become...





Power Rangers: Knights of the Round!

RIGID, SALTY WIND, chilled by the icy ocean water, blew in across the pier and tousled the sorceress' long, blond locks, caressed her features in its gelid embrace, and fazed her not in the least. Starlight reflected in her emerald eyes as she moved silently along the wooden planks behind a lanky dock worker. Outwardly, she was a picture of indifference; her lips were held taught in a neutral position, her steps were fluid and leisurely, and her breathing was steady--all of this belied her welling inner excitement, and her heart beat more rapidly behind her breast with each footstep.

Every now and again, the lanky dock worker would glance over his shoulder at the strange woman following him like an eager puppy. She could not have been more than thirty years old, yet her clothing was at least a century overdue. A black leather corset with stitched ornate designed complemented a deep violet dress, the hem of which nearly dragged along the ground; it was set aloft by the high heels of her archaic leather boots. The outfit was garnished with a hooded cloak which billowed out behind her as she walked, giving her a semblance of hasted movement, though in reality she padded along at a much more reasonable pace.

The moon was hidden behind dark clouds, and there were no lights along the pier; the night was utterly dark, yet the sorceress could make out the silhouette of an enormous ship anchored a half mile or so out to sea, a large tanker by the looks of it. At the end of the wooden jetty, a tiny raft bounced atop the shallow, rolling waves. At the sight of this, the sorceress cringed; the thought of boarding such a vessel--if it could even be called that--did not sit well with her. But the beanstalk of a man that led her continued onward towards it, unerring.

He stopped at the wooden post around which an ancient and frayed rope was tightly wound to hold the dinghey to the dock. He stretched out a hand, gesturing towards the little boat. The woman stopped a few feet from him and narrowed her eyes at the motorized craft. It was a four foot drop from the edge of the wooden pier to the boat, and it did not look entirely stable. Still, having no choice, she lifted her dress and cloak with one hand, grasped a plank with the other, and hesitantly lowered herself into the boat. At first it sank beneath her weight, and she barely stifled a minute gasp, but balance between herself and the flat, floating craft eventually evened out and she sat securely in its center.

After untying the mooring line, the lanky man stepped onto the boat, and once again the sorceress thought she might be thrown into the icy waves, but not a single drop found its way into the seating area. The man started the motor and soon the pair trundled off through the water towards the large ship. It was a lengthy and boring trip, the silence staved off only by the rattling motor, the occasional sploosh of the boat's flat underside smacking the water after cresting a large wave, and the sniffs and snorts of the boat's scrawny operator. Salty spray filled the air, sticking to the woman's hair and overly expensive garments, but that was the least of her concerns and she tried to ignore the growing dampness of her dress.

Soon, the behemoth tanker loomed over the insignificant dinghey, and all other things seemed to pale in comparison to its gargantuan voluminosity. A rope ladder hung down the rusted iron side, swaying gently in the chilly ocean breeze. The dock worker grasped it and held it steady; the sorceress grimaced as she took hold and began her ascent. This laborious process was far from what she had imagined. The climb seemed to take an eternity; each step by definition brought her closer to the top, but the hull of the ship stretched forever upwards, and there were infinite steps. Only when the muscles in her arms and legs burned and begged for mercy did the ladder finally end and the deck came into sight. Two burly sailors helped her over the edge and back onto solid ground; no hands were offered to the lanky worker who climbed aboard moments later.

The sailors whisked the sorceress across the deck; the salty moisture of the sea air which coated it shone in the pale starlight and nearly reflected those whose footsteps hammered across it with determination. The sailors flanked her as all three entered through a pair of heavy doors. Immediately, they were greeted by a moderately-sized and moderately-featured man in a woolly white sweater.

"Lady Morgause, isn't it?" he said in a raspy voice.

Morgause held her chin aloft; she almost appeared to look down upon the sweater-clad man, even though he stood as tall as she. "Yes. Captain Renault? Take me to it."

He nodded solemnly and waved off his men. She followed him through the inner pathways of the ship as diligently as she had followed the lanky dock worker back on dry land, saying nothing and displaying no signs of her inward anxiety. Their footsteps echoed off the hollow metallic walls and that, combined with their heavy breathing of the thick, warm air, created an inescapable, almost loathsome din. But the walk was short and culminated inside a large storage area filled with hundreds of crates and boxes of various sizes and shapes.

Renault stopped at the room's entrance and held out a hand to signal Morgause to do so as well. After that, he gave a short, sharp whistle that circulated through the entire expanse before dying out. In no time at all, a forklift appeared from the shadows bearing a loft an enormous stone object. It was angular and plain, bearing no marks or insignias--to these common folk it appeared as nothing more than a heavy box, but Morgause knew it for what it truly was: a sarcophagus. Renault waved over the lift and its driver obeyed, setting down the box a few feet from Morgause and the captain, then driving away to other duties.

No longer able to contain her emotions, Morgause allowed a grin to explode across her face, and she swiftly moved to the sarcophagus' side. She traced her fingers over its surfaces and edges, savoring its cold, rough architecture.

"This is it, then?" Renault piped up.

Morgause did not answer or turn to him. "Open it," she commanded.

Four men standing to the side moved towards the sarcophagus at Renault's command, and with much grunting and groaning they managed to dislodge the heavy stone lid. Once it was halfway off the stone box, they lost control of it and it tipped away, smashing onto the floor and breaking into three large pieces. The sailors shared a concerned glance and backed away, but Morgause cared not, and was focused intently on what was inside. She drifted closer and clasped the edge of the sarcophagus, leaning inward and gazing into its depths. Her emerald eyes widened at what she saw within, and her mouth hung slightly agape.

She had found it.

The lights in the vast room suddenly flickered and went out. At the same time, Morgause's eyes blazed alight with a pale green energy. Like beacons they illuminated a path before her. She whispered four arcane words, then the high stone walls of the sarcophagus cracked and crumbled away, as if aged by two thousand years of wind and weather in a mere instant. The overhead lamps came back to life, and now, exposed to the outside world for the first time in a millenium, the body of Morgause's beloved son, Mordred, was revealed.

Preserved by the sanctity of his stone tomb for a thousand years, his body was perfectly recognizable and very nearly whole. Morgause drew closer and knelt next to her son, ignoring the fascinated and horrified stares of everyone around her. She reached into a pouch hanging from her belt and felt around for the object she sought. He retrieved it: a ring of black iron in the shape of a serpent wrapped in a circle, devouring its own tail. Carefully, she lifted Mordred's left hand and slid the ring onto his middle finger.

An explosion of energy erupted from the corpse, blowing even Morgause off her feet. The body began to exude a bright light and a shrill, piercing ring flooded the entire room. The sailors all covered their ears and squeezed shut their eyes, but Morgause looked on in amazement, allowing the blinding light to erase her vision and the deadly ringing deafen her. Then, as suddenly as they had begun, the light and the noise ceased utterly. In place of the deteriorating corpse of Mordred of Kernow lay a mass of black armored plates accented with crimson steel.

The helmet shifted back and forth, full of awakening life, and then the suit of armor rolled over and pushed to its feet.

"Mordred?" said Morgause meekly as she watched the black knight rise.

The knight raised his armored hands and looked back and forth between them before turning to the sorceress on the floor. His voice, ancient and dusty, echoed from behind his glistening black helmet in a cold, hollow rasp. "Mother."

"Ah ha! Check!" hooted Archimedes, using his beak to move his black bishop piece in a position to block the white king's escape, "Let's see you get out of this one, you old coot!" chirped the talking owl, giving his wings a victorious flap. This was a typical day for the wizard once known as Merlin. Merlin sat at his kitchen table, playing a rousing and rather competitive game of chess with Archimedes, his owl familiar. Merlin lived in an enchanted cabin. What made the cabin enchanted, one might ask? From the outside, it appears rather small and cramped, but it was quite the opposite on the inside, being much more spacious than it appeared from the outside. The hut itself was on Avalon, a mystical island whose location was magically changed every decade or so so that it would remain well hidden. The island was somewhat small, consisting of a humble forest grove where one would find Merlin's home as well as a temple of sorts where nun-like ladies resided. Under that temple was where one would find King Arthur's final resting place.

"N-now now, Archimedes, where is your sportsmanship?" asked Merlin, desperately looking for a move to get out of the check. He had taught Archimedes how to play the game but sometimes he wondered if he had taught him too well, because the owl seemed to be winning a lot more often lately. Just as Merlin found his move, he froze, a look of shock and a hint of fear on his face, "It can't be..." without any further warning, the old man jolted from his seat and hurriedly walked out the front door.

"Oh no you don't!" Archimedes flapped his wings and took off after Merlin, "I'm not letting you weasel your way out this time!" he quipped, not yet realizing just how worked up Merlin had suddenly become. It was when he realized where exactly the wizard was going did the owl finally understand, "Are you serious? What what what?" Archimedes hooted, repeating the word "what" multiple times as was his usual tendency when he found something he did not understand.

"I'm afraid not, Archimedes." replied the old Wizard as he entered the main door of the Temple. He was greeted by one of the women but he quickly brushed them aside, taking time only to tell them that, "He has returned." before making for the stairs into the crypt. That message startled the lady and soon word Merlin's message spread through the Temple and the women were in a nervous fluster over what they had heard. Some of them tried to follow Merlin downstairs but he insisted on remaining alone, taking with him only Archimedes if because the bird wouldn't shut up other wise.

"And what, pray tell, are you doing?" asked Archimedes as he watched Merlin suddenly open Arthur's tomb, "Besides desecrating the King's tomb, of course?" asked the owl.

Merlin ignored the bird at first, instead concentrating on what he was doing. Very slowly, and carefully, Merlin removed a ring from the dead king's finger. It was red in color, and it had what looked like a small etching of dragon in gold on the face of the ring. It served as Arthur's seal, but also his source of power other than Excalibur, "For your information, I'm going to gather what is left of the knights. This threat has to be stopped. And as much I don't want to, I'm afraid Arthur's ring is needed." he then walked over to a certain spot in the center of the floor and removed the rug that had been placed there, revealing a large circle etched in the floor with complicated symbols drawn in it. The man knelt down and merely touched the circle with the ring he had just procured, causing it to glow white.

"I was wondering if these things still worked..." commented Archimedes as he left Merlin's shoulder and instead perched himself on the head of a suit of armor in one of the room's corners.

Standing to his feet once more, Merlin slipped the ring onto his finger and then pointed it to the circle. He began chanting words in an archaic tongue, the ring beginning to give off a red glow as he did so, "Bring to me the other rings and their rightful owners. And likewise bring forth Arthur's rightful heir..." Merlin said, however in an ancient language. In an instant, five youths would be whisked away from whatever they were doing and they would find themselves standing in the circle before Merlin, the other rings glowing their respectful color as the king's had been doing.

The first one to be able to speak, was Archimedes, "Ha! These are your knights? Why they look no more like knights than I do a human!"

Invariably, one would consider royalty to act as such. One should also be quite able to distinguish royalty from the ordinary peasant. In the case of King Arthur, the honored King was indeed distinguishable, and you could spot his noble heritage from the first look you took of his majesty.

His legacy was not so impressive looking.

King Arthur’s legacy was sound asleep, sprawled on a mattress on the floor in what looked like a position that a contortionist would do. A bit of drool was on the pillow she lay face down in, and said pillow was soon tossed into the air as the loud and annoying beep of an alarm clock jolted her awake. The young waitress stumbled off of her mattress and grabbed for her clock, banging it on the floor until the right button was hit and the alarm shut off. Groaning, the messy haired and dazed young blonde dragged herself up and stumbled out of her room and across the tiny hallway, making it to the bathroom to shower, no hot water this morning apparently…

The young waitress’s name was Camilla, and yes, she was a waitress who lived in a tiny apartment with no hot water and a very loud alarm clock. This is what King Arthur’s legacy was, not that she knew that in the first place. As far as she knew, she was just an orphan making her way in the world, and as soon as her quick shower was over she’d get ready to go to work, and after that off to the orphanage to hang out with kids that would grow up like she did. Don’t misunderstand though, Camilla liked her life, as unimpressive as it looked to others, she liked it. And she walked around all day with a goofy smile on her face to show for it too. That same goofy smile found itself at six a.m. helping prep at her work place, Pig’s Inn, it was called. And for the rest of the morning until noon she worked, getting tipped well because of her service and smile in the morning. The shift went off without anything unusual happening of course, even the half awake customers could not keep themselves grumpy. Today was going to be steady and calm, or so she thought.

“Alright bye Marry! Bye Morris! I’ll be see you tomorrow!” Camilla waved goodbye, leaving the place in the collared blue shirt, slacks, and apron that was the restaurant’s uniform. She shouldered her purse more firmly on her shoulder as she hurried to catch the trolley, from there she got off a baker’s street and made her way down the alley, the soft tap of her footsteps soon disappeared however, as Camilla altogether disappeared from the alley.

A flash of white and suddenly vision, it caused the otherwise uncoordinated waitress to stumble and trip, landing unimpressively on her face. ’Ha! These are your knights? Why they look no more like knights than I do a human!’ She heard a strange voice as she stood up rather quickly, straitening her apron and re-shouldering her bag, “Yah well you! You. You….You. Are. A. Bird.” Camilla’s mouth dropped open as she pointed dumbly at the owl she facing, then she noticed the old man. She laughed nervously, “Oh of course! It must have been you who said that! Heh, sorry my common sense gets away from me from time to time….although no amount of common sense can really tell me what just happened and how I’m suddenly here…” She turned around slowly in a full circle, taking note of five others, one with a gun oh my! “O-K someone has a gun.” She stated bluntly, backing away slightly.

The vast green fields zooming by, the blue sky accented by a few fluffy clouds, the wind blowing in his face, the sounds of hoof beats on the dirt road, this was Maxwell's paradise. He and his horse moved like they were one, zooming down the path at an impressive pace. He came up to a vineyard on his left and saw the group he'd been riding with on the paved road on the other side. With a shake of the reins he sped up towards a turn up ahead and the horse jumped the fence and ran between two rows of grape vines. The others heard the sound of him thundering through the field and watched as he jumped two more fences and came to a stop in front of them, looking like some hero returning from a victorious battle. A few of them clapped and complimented him, but the one leading the tour gave him a sour look before they continued towards Venice.

As he walked the streets of Venice, he couldn't help but marvel at the old buildings. Even though he didn't want to be an archeologist like his parents, they still passed their interest in history on to him. The last few weeks ran though his mind, riding through Madrid, spending a few days in Paris, but there was nothing he loved more than just zooming across the countryside. The other riders had joked that he should have been born on a ranch, since no city boy ever rode the way he did.

He was relaxing at a cafe when he saw of group of tourists at the table next to him having some trouble. It was a group of four women and a local man was hitting on them in broken English, being a complete pig. Max got up and went to the man, tapping him on the shoulder as he spoke. "Excuse me sir, but you're ruining these laddies evening." The man turned to him and stood up straight, towering about half a foot above him. They locked eyes for a moment but Max's eyes were filled with a burning sense of duty to help these women. The man swore at him in Italian and walked off, leaving him with a slight sense of victory. "Well, thank you my night in shining armor." One of the women said tom him. "Twas nothing milady." He responded jokingly. "Tis an honor to lay my life on the line for you." He walked back to his table to get his stuff, the women looking at him confused. They'd assumed he was going to ask one of them out, but instead he just left for his hotel.

When he got to his room, he tossed his stuff on the bed an looked out the window at the sunset. Suddenly, he found himself surrounded in light and heard someone make some kind of smart comment. "Well your not much of a knight yourself." He responded instinctively, before he noticed he had said it to an owl. "Wait... where am I?"

A young woman sat in her dorm room reading from a text book. She didn’t look up as the door opened and another young woman entered carrying a stack of books. She carefully placed her books on her desk before walking over to her roommate. In mid-stride, without hesitation, she smacked her in the back of the head.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“Stop making me lie for you!”

“I’m not making you lie for me.”

“Yes you are! I just had to tell Jason that I visited you in the hospital because he didn’t believe you were sick and not avoiding him.”

“I didn’t make you do that.”

“It is not my place to tell him what you should and I’m not letting you be the bad guy here. You need to just break up with him.”

“But if I don’t we can always make up and I’ll have a boyfriend.” She said with a tone and grin that plainly said she hoped her excuse would fly.

Athena spun her roommate around in her chair so that they were facing each other, placed her hands on the arms of the chair, and leaned in so that their eyes were mere inches apart, “He is your responsibility. You will break up with him. You will not string him along. You will be an adult about this.”

She shrank back, “Yes ma`am”

Athena pushed the chair across the room and walked out. She planned to take a long walk around the campus to relax, but before she could the world disappeared in a bright light.

The world came back her as a room of white marble, immense arches, and grand arches. She stared around the room in awe of it’s beauty. She barely took note of the other people as she took in her surroundings, finally resting on an owl perched on a suit of armor and looking at them in what struck her as owlish amusement.

“Oh. My. God. You are adorable!” She cried and ran over to the owl holding her arm out for it to use as a perch, “Let’s be friends!”

"Hm?" the old man cocked an eyebrow at the man asking whether or not he was dead, "No, son, you're not dead you're-" he blinked at the sight of the gun and nearly jumped, "Holy sh... er... Grail!" Merlin exclaimed, nearly swearing in his surprise, "You don't bring weapons to this place! It's a royal crypt for Pete's sake!" with that, he snapped his fingers and the gun dissolved into dust, "Ah, much better." he said, now feeling like his usual nonchalant self.

"Why, yes, young lady, I happen to be a bird!" snorted Archimedes at the girl in the center. He could tell by her lack of a ring she was the heir, but she seemed so unrefined he could hardly contain his disgust, "Looks like we have a brainy one, here, doesn't it?" asked the Owl in an obviously sarcastic tone. Suddenly, the owl heard a male voice addressing him and his eyes quickly shot in the direction of the blond young man, "Oh you're hardly one to talk about who is knightly you lecherous cheat!" said Archimedes, as if he were referring to someone else, Lancelot to be precise, "Don't think you're off the hook for the mess you made with your little fling with the Queen!"

"Archimedes!" Merlin said quickly to silence the bird, "There will be no grudges! We've been over this a thousand times," the old man said, pointing a scolding finger at the owl, "Sir Lancelot has paid for his mistakes and redeemed himself!"

"Hmph!" the owl responded, quickly looking away and puffing up his chest proudly. Suddenly, the other girl was walking up to him and holding her arm out, "Hmm? What what? You expect me to just perch myself on your arm like some kind of pet?"

"Archimedes..." Merlin said, his voice becoming more irritated, "...don't be rude to our guests."

The owl grumbled as he went ahead and obliged the girl, perching himself on her outstretched arm. Then he looked at Merlin as if to say 'There, are you happy now, old man?'.

By now, the young people were probably confused half to death at what was going on, and so Merlin began the best explanation he could summarize, "Terribly sorry about him, he can be grouchy around new people." he said, starting things off by apologizing for Archimedes' coy words, garnering a grumpy hoot from the owl in response, "Now, allow to me explain myself. My name is Merlin..." he said, pausing a moment because he knew his name would garner surprise or disbelief from the five, "...yes, that Merlin. And you all..." he looked at each one of them, "...are Eric, Michaline, Maxwell, Athena, and..." his eyes rested on Camilla, "...Camilla. I know your names because of your rings. You see, I originally made them, and they were worn by great knights of old. Over time, they passed their rings to their children and so on until finally, they were given to you." at this point, Merlin remembered that Camilla did not have her ring, "Speaking of which..." he took off the red ring he had used to summon them and presented it to Camilla, "...I believe this is yours, young lady. Your ring was not passed down because it was buried with its original owner, but it's yours now."

Merlin paused to give them some time to take in what he had said so far, then continued, "A thousand years ago, the Knights of the Round Table, led by King Arthur Pendragon himself, wore those rings and wielded the powers they grant to protect the realm of Camelot. I kept watch over the rings all this time, which is why I already know all of you fairly well. Eric," he approached the young man with the green ring, "your ring was originally worn by Sir Gawain, one of Arhur's earliest knights. He was known as the Green Knight, and was known for his unyielding courage in the face of danger."

"Athena," he said, walking up to the girl upon whose arm Archimedes was perched, "you perhaps already know this story, but your ring once belonged to Sir Bedivere, the same Bedivere who stayed by the King's side even unto his dying breath, and was entrusted with the disposal of the Excalibur." Archimedes looked like he was about comment, but Merlin quickly shot him a look to keep him quiet. Next, he approached Maxwell, "Max. May I call you Max? Your ring belonged to Sir Lancelot du Lac. And despite what a certain owl thinks..." he gave an accusing glance to Archimedes, "...Lancelot was loyal to his king in the end and also provided the turning point in which Mordred could be defeated in the end."

"Michaline." Merlin then approached the girl with the yellow ring, "Your ring was worn by Sir Percival. He healed the Fisher King and later became the King of Corbenek." Merlin finally turned his attention to Camilla, whom he had saved for last, "Camilla Kiss, as owner of the Red Ring, you are the rightful heir of King Arthur himself. As you likely know already, Arthur was raised by Sir Ector and myself, eventually claiming the thrown of Camelot after the death of Uther, his biological father. He led the Knights of the Round Table and wielded the mystical sword Excalibur. After his fall in his final battle against Mordred, Arthur and his ring was buried right here in this crypt." he said, giving some time for all this to sink in for everyone.

"Yes..." he said, noticing that they would then realize where they are, "...we are on the Island of Avalon, in the very crypt Arthur currently rests within."

"Oh, enough of the storytelling and tell them why they are here already!" said Archimedes, getting as impatient as the 5 others were likely becoming.

"Oh fine." said Merlin, "And before I forget and he chews me out for it, that is Archimedes..." he pointed at the owl on Athena's arm, "...a highly educated owl. A little too educated if you ask me..." he muttered the last part.

"What what?" Archimedes immediately responded, but said no more.

"There was a sixth ring originally, a black one worn by Sir Mordred, the man who would betray Arthur and attempt to usurp the throne. Just as your myths and legends tell, Mordred and Arthur fought in final duel, in which they destroyed one another. I tried to hide Mordred's ring forever but..." Merlin paused, giving a sigh, "...but Morgause, the mother of Mordred, has also lived all this time like I have. Earlier I sensed that Mordred's black ring had been used, and I fear that he has returned to finish what he started a thousand years ago."

"So he brought the 5 of you here in the hopes that you could use your rings to stop him. To become knights like your ancestors, with Arthur's descendant leading you as is her birthright." Archimedes chimed in, finishing the explanation for Merlin. Now, the two could only wait for their responses.

Along with the dissolved gun, Camilla’s freaked out look vanished, when really it should have gotten more intense since a gun had just been vanished right before her eyes. For some strange reason the thought of this occurrence being strange did not cross her mind. Nor did she respond to the fact that the old man had just called this place a crypt, a holy one at that.

“….So mean.” Forget the fact that now there was a talking owl in the room, and a sassy one at that, Camilla was offended by the comment to her intelligence, and saddened by its onslaught of those present, and her shoulders shagged with the heavy weight of it. But her mood soon bounced to something else entirely as the name Lancelot was thrown around, and suddenly the small tid bits she had gathered from what was said earlier came to the forefront of her mind. Her face became surprised and her eyebrows raised as she looked around, her eyes resting on…Lancelot? She smiled at remembering the character’s ill fated love for King Arthur’s wife. The affair she considered cruel, and wondered how Arthur lived with himself for the rest of his life, after all keeping someone who was not your true love as your spouse was horrible. That was the way she saw it at least. Such a view point of the situation was unique apparently, and she had never been able to successfully get anyone to understand.

Camilla peered at the owl with curiosity as he grudgingly scooted onto another woman’s arm, her hands folded behind her back as she leaned over to get a better look. The mention of the name Merlin popped Cami’s attention back to, well his name was Merlin apparently, and now he had her full attention. He said he knew their names because of rings…she looked down at her ring less hands, smiling softly. ‘He must have the wrong girl then’, she thought; until Merlin walked over to her and placed the red ring into her empty palms that smelled of dish soap. Her cheeks burned with a bright blush at the ring’s beauty. She held it up and studied it, noting the dragon etched in it, the thing was beautiful! But it couldn’t possibly be hers, she was just a waitress you see, and a waitress did not own such things. Nor were they summoned to a holy grave to be told off by an owl.

As Merlin began telling each person in turn that they were descendants of famous Knights of lor, she started to shake her head, remembering that the crest of King Arthur. No, she told herself, it can’t be. She wanted to say something, to correct Merlin (what an arrogant notion indeed) and tell him he was wrong. But as he came to her and said what she knew he was going to say, she found herself only able to silently open and close her mouth, blushing all the more. And at the explanation of something much more, of a threat that had apparently arisen, Camilla could keep silent not more.

She carefully had the ring in the middle of her right palm, as if touching it was not her right or destiny. “WAIT Merlin, Sir, um…you see I’m not…I can’t be, just a waitress you see…I read to some kids at the orphanage and they’re expecting me right now, probably upset that I’m late…..” Her voice that had shook and stuttered grew stronger. “You must have me confused with someone else! Besides this guy over hear looks more like a King then me.” She looked over to the one who had Lancelot’s ring, “You must have mistaken and he is actually your descendant of King Arthur.” She laughed nervously, “Yah I’m just a nobody who was born from people she doesn’t know, no way could my lineage be something like that.”

She bowed her head and held out the ring to Merlin, she was shivering a little, her limbs felt weak and she looked solemn, her eyes were wide under the blonde bangs that covered them.

“Oh stop being rude,” she said to the owl, tapping it on it’s beak, “it doesn’t fit such a beautiful bird,” she finished as she stroke the owl’s feathers.

“Now see here! Young lady you will noooooooh that feels good,” he said, leaning into her fingers, “Were did you learn to do that?”

She smiled at the bird, Archimedes she just learned was his name, “I spent a couple summers working at an aviary.”

As the man that claimed to be Merlin, and all things considered she was inclined to believe him, explained their heritage she just smiled; everything her father had told was true. She was a knight by blood and was being called upon to fight a great evil. All her childhood dreams, nearly forgotten were coming true.

And that’s when one of the other knights broke.

She’d been two distracted taking in the scenery when she’d arrived, but thinking back she did recall the others mentioning a gun, and didn’t Merlin chastise one of them for bringing a weapon in? And now he’s talking about seeing his friends get shot? And how he needed to go back right now?

“Holy shit. He pulled you out of a firefight didn’t he?”

It took her a moment, but Damnit, she’d spent her life defending friends without question, she could surely help her brother knight.

“Send us back with him” she said stepping forward. Keeping her arm steady to avoid jostling her new owl friend, “We’re supposed to be a team, we’ve got magical knight powers, and we need to practice with them before we fight this evil sorceress, right? So let’s go help!”

“Well, aren’t you gung-ho about all this,” Archimedes said.

She grinned a little sheepishly at him, “I’ve wanted to be a knight since I was little child.”

It was as she said that that she finally registered that some of them had already objected if not refused to honor their birthright.

“So, I’m going to go with him. Even if no one else will… just show me how to work this ring first.”

"A lecherous cheat?" Max repeated confused. He'd dated a few girls and one left her because she was jealous of a friend of his, but he would rather die than do something like that. When Merlin mentioned Lancelot, his mind went back to the story of the knight and he understood why someone would say that. But why would a talking owl think he was Lancelot? Why is the owl talking for that matter? He stared at the bird while he tired to make sense of the situation, to no avail.

As Merlin explained everything, he examined the old ring he'd father had given him when he graduated high school. The ring was made of a blue metal with shape sort of like a horse on top. A pair of wings extended from the horse and wrapped around the loop of the ring. He'd investigated it once out of curiosity, but could find nothing about it in any historical record except that it seemed to have been from the time of king Arthur. This almost confirmed what Merlin was saying to him, but he still wasn't quite sure.

After Merlin addressed him directly, he was dumbfounded. The idea that he was descended from Lancelot was almost impossible to him based on the reputation Archimedes had mentioned, but as he thought more about it it made sense. He'd always loved the stories of Lancelot, ignoring the obvious detail, and had noticed parallels between the way he lives and the ways of the knights of the round.

As everyone broke down or responded, he just stood there in his thoughts. He was a knight of the round, a warrior for justice, it was almost like a dream come true. "I'm honored to have this opportunity." He said, mostly to himself. "I will not fail..."

This was not good. It seemed the timing was very bad, from the way Eric acted. Of course, Merlin couldn't have expected them all to just suddenly believe him. Still, the fact that only two of them were willing to fight was discouraging enough. Eric simply pleaded to return home to check on his family, while Camilla and Michaline wanted nothing to do with this whole thing. Then, as if his prayers were beginning to be answered, Athena spoke, requesting to learn how to use the ring so that she could help Eric's town. As if on cue, Max then spoke, appearing to want the same thing. Two out of five was better than nothing for now.

"Listen up, all of you." said Merlin, getting their attention on him, "Regardless of whether or not you wish to aid me, your rings have been awakened, that means you'll be targeted eventually. At the very least..." he was referring to the 3 who hadn't accepted the offer at this point, "...you should learn how to use your rings should you find yourself in need of self-defense. Archimedes..." he said, gesturing to the Owl so that he could finish the explanation while Merlin worked on transporting.

"It's really quite simple." Archimedes said as he lifted himself off of Athena's arm and back onto the suit of armor he had perched on previously, "It merely takes a simple phrase and to your inherited powers will be given to you. Simply announce that you will not allow evil to prevail, and if the rings find your convictions to be true, you will be transformed into knights." with this Archimedes quieted down, giving the floor back to Merlin.

"But you'll need to use the Latin phrase. That phrase is "Ne Cede Malis" which means "Yield to no Evils". Those are the words that will transform you into knights. Once you've been gifted with your ancestor's powers, the ring's innate knowledge of their battles will teach you everything else you need to know over time as you need it." preparations complete, Merlin had Camilla and Michaline stand aside, leaving the other three still standing on the circle.

"The circle you're standing on is a Cullis Gate. It is capable of transporting you to whatever location you concentrate on. Once off the island, you can then concentrate on the Cullis Gate to return to Avalon from practically anywhere in the world. Be careful, transporting from anywhere outside of this island will automatically bring back to this spot by default, because it's sort of a one way door."

"Remember, "Ne Cede Malis" will transform you. In a moment I will send the three of you to Eric's hometown where you'll need to use your powers to stop the tragedy unfolding there. Good luck Athena, and Max. And Eric, please help these two with your ring. If you want to ensure your family's safety, then the best way to do that is to become the knight I know you are." as he said this, he gave quick glances to Camilla and Michaline as if hoping they would take the same message.

"Right, off you go then!" he waved his hand at them and spoke something in Latin. Immediately following, the three who were still on the Cullis Gate would be transported back to the spot Eric had been whisked from in the same manner.

"I'll send you two home if you insist, but please allow me to set up a monitor so I can keep tabs on the others first?" he asked, then used another Latin phrase to summon a mist that allowed them to watch what was happening to the other three as they arrived in Wyoming.

Camilla’s intention had not been to offend or seem like she was not willing to do something. She blushed even more, if that was at all possible, at the way she had been interpreted. She had meant, ‘no, this probably belongs to someone else’, but it had been taken as, ‘no, I don’t want to be a knight’, which would be an insane notion by far. Since being a knight would be just about the coolest thing anyone could ever think of. The honor would be enough to make her cry really, she had been close to doing in the beginning. Now she was more mortified and guilty, especially since now someone, or people really, were going to go risk their lives.

She backed up obediently to the side as the others ‘powered up’ and transported to themselves to danger no doubt. Camilla started to get angry, what was she doing just standing at the side? Her expression turned downright determined. She allowed Merlin to explain and took note, slipping on the ring as he turned his back to set up a monitoring system. She muttered the phrase ‘Ne Cede Malis’, not really caring if she was just a simple waitress at the moment, her heart and mind truly now on fire, mostly from the thought of others going into danger and she not. And jogged into the circle, she was in a red suit now, and looked pretty angry.

“What kind of Merlin are you!? You don’t send people off to face the kind of danger that requires guns without….(without what?)without me damnit! If I can help then don’t you dare ever push me off to the side again!” Camilla raged in a voice that had never really been raised to that level before, so it came off as less intimidating then she was going for. But anyway, it still got her point across hopefully.

Morgause and Mordred paced side by side alongside the starboard rail of the gigantic ship. Mordred's heavy armored boots came down with a marvelous thud with each step, while his mother tagged along so silently she may as well have been floating. They paid no attention to the sailors going about their business all around in the dull orange light of the breaking dawn. Mordred was particularly unaware of his surroundings, as his gaze was focused intently across the waters of the Atlantic at the mainland in the distance.

His mother had assured him that this was his home, this was Britain. Yet it looked utterly foreign. "What year is it?" he had asked earlier, before the sun had peaked the horizon. Trepidation had consumed his voice then, as he looked in astonishment and horror at his strange surroundings. "Eleven years past the second millennium," Morgause had replied. A thousand years had passed since that fateful battle of Camlann; a thousand years he had rested in that stone tomb, unaware of the passage of time around him. But he was alive once again, the Black Ring firmly ensconced upon his finger. And even a thousand years was not enough to settle his desires.

"If it is truly as you say, Mother," Mordred began after a long period of silence, "and we live in the twenty-first century, then my enemies are long dead. Arthur and his wretched knights shall plague me no more. I can resume my plans. You will help me, yes?"

Morgause followed her son's eyes, hidden though they were behind his lustrous black helmet, to the British skyline in the distance. She gave an almost inaudible sigh. "You are still weak, Mordred. Your power has yet to return. That is why you must remain in your armor. You are not yet ready to face the world."

Mordred growled, and if not for the steel plate covering his face, he might have spat upon the ground in disgust. "Out of one tomb and into another." He stopped suddenly, and grasped the edge of the low rail, leaning out over the side of the ship. "I will not wait any longer. My power is sufficient. I claim the throne tonight."

The sorceress stood aloof from Mordred. "It isn't that simple. There is a long line of inheritance. Remember: in this world, you no longer exist. Nor does the Pendragon bloodline. You have no claim."

Mordred wheeled around furiously. "Then I will make a claim! The line can extend from Camelot to the Orient; I'll do away with them all if I must!"

"That's the other thing," his mother said solemnly. "Camelot is no more. The world has changed, Mordred. We need time, and careful planning."

Mordred was quiet for a few moments. "We act now. With our combined powers, those fools will have no choice but to surrender the throne."

"As you wish," Morgause replied gravely.

They were both quiet for a time. Morgause was the first to speak. "We will need warriors. Even together we cannot hope to take on whatever resistance we meet.

Mordred nodded slowly. "These... people," he said, making a sweeping gesture with an arm to indicate the few sailors within eyesight, "are for our cause, but they will not do. Not one of them can fight. What can you conjure, Mother?"

The witch tilted her head and offered a weak, dreamy smile. "I'm sure I'll think of something, dear. Fret not over it."

"Hm." Mordred returned his gaze to the sea and stared at it, leaning harder into the rail.

All Morgause would see was a slight twitch of Mordred's helm, for she could not see the sudden bewildered and concerned expression that he now sported. But they shared a connection that transcended what she could see or hear; she could sense something troubled him.

"What is it?" she asked.

He jerked away from the rail and stared at the ground as he drew closer to Morgause. "Well, think of it quickly. I sense something. Something I've not felt since..."

Mordred spun, his heavy cape billowing out behind him, and trudged away toward his inner sanctum.

After looking around at the bodies she couldn’t help but come to a different conclusion than…Eric? She followed along behind and decided to speak up about it, “I… I don’t think you could have helped. It looks like every one of these men was armed. I don’t think your presence would have helped.” She caught up to him and tentatively put a hand on his shoulder, “If you hadn’t been taken away…I think you’d be dead right now.”

Eric froze. He didn’t respond as the idea percolated through his brain before finally brushing her off and continuing on to his truck.

She turned and shrugged at Max.

As she did so she saw a figure materialize out of the air. It was clad in black with red armor over it, with a red helmet covering their entire head and face, as well as a sword hanging from it’s waist and a small shield strapped to their arm.

Athena could hardly believe what she was looking at. Could it really be?

“Sorry I’m late,” a recently familiar voice said. The figure looked around, “Looks like we’re all late.”

“Oh my god…”

She would later regret the inappropriate nature of her outburst, but at the moment all she could think was, “We’re POWER RANGERS!”

Camilla looked down at herself again and said, “Wow. I guess we are. Who would’ve thought there’d have been power rangers a thousand years ago?”

“And that they would come back only to be destroyed.”

They turned to see someone in black armor, eerily similar to their own, but far more intimidating. At his back was a horde of skeletons armed with jagged and rusty looking swords, and wore basic armor covering their chest, shoulders, lower legs and fore-arms.

The black knight stabbed his sword forward, "Starting with you, Heir to the throne! Skelleknights! Attack!”

Athena froze. She knew she had to move. Had to do something. To say the phrase and morph.

“Se.. ce na…” no no wrong wrong! “Ni.. Ne… Ne sede… “

One of the Skelleknights was within striking distance and swung an over handed slash at her. Her body reacted without her thinking; she twisted to the side and pushed the bony arm aside, before swinging a vicious backhand at the monsters head.

Her fist connected and knocked it’s skull clean off it’s neck. It continued to move, though it’s attacks were no directionless. Another rushed in and she responded properly. Stepping in and intercepting it with a kick to it’s knee before it could strike, the leg coming apart and the body falling to the ground only to crawl towards her.

That was easy she thought, only to see the skull float back into place and the leg reassemble itself, “Shit.” She backed away only to hit a tree, just as the two skelleknights launched synced jumping strikes.

She dove out of the way, hitting the ground hard. As she picked herself up she spotted the ring on her finger, right, Morphing time.

She leapt to her feet and faced her foes, raising her fist in a defiant stance, “Ne cede malis!”

She felt the change. She felt stronger, faster, and far more confidant. She looked down at her arms through the helmets visor at her arms. She wore a suit identical to the one Camilla wore, only purple. She felt at her side for the sword and drawing it shouted, “Alright you bone heads! Bring it!”