JeQuelle's Knighting

The day had dawned as bright and clear as any day anyone could remember. And it got even better from there! The assembled Knights, Squires, and Pages milled about, speaking gentle with one another. A grand and glorious sight to behold were these. Bedecked with the glorious displays of honor and might; armor and sword; pike and shield; they were come to witness and honor another who was to join the ranks of the fortunate few who held well-earned seats at the Round Table. A voice, here and there, would rise about the low murmur of sound and conversation that filled the great hall. At times a laugh, at times a greeting as these happy few gathered and greeted one another, some after significant absence.

As the hour neared, the general noise level lessened in anticipation. One by one the noble officers of the guild took their places at the front of the great hall, mounting the dias and taking one of the grand, hand-carved wooden chairs used by the officers on such official occasions. Arrayed in a semi-circle, each was identical, save for the center chair, reserved for the respected and revered Guild-Master, the noble Lord Shumard. Here came the lady Blackcoral, beautiful and terrible in her gowns, long tresses flowing as she swept up the stairs and to here place. On here heels was the Lady Sylphee, Knight-Countess and the single most feared fighter in the realms. She paused to speak lightly with Coral and then took her place in the circle. Akumu was next, the Lord Initiator, stern in visage, but tender in heart, he looked over the assembled crowd, singling our his charges, the Squires and Pages each with a wink and a quick nod. The Lady Nalika, in her quiet and gentle way, slipped into her spot next, radiant and smiling as she anticipated the Knighting of her friend. Sir Corwin, the Weapon's Master, a huge and fearsome man in all his glorious armor stomped up the steps and with a whispered joke to the others, took his place as well.

Sir Exegete was the next to arrive, all breathless from his run from the square in Neverwinter, he mount the stairs in two steps and skidded to a stop at Nalika's side. It was clear he had come directly from the tailor. His armor was unscratched, shined to the highest of gloss. New black leather connected the ceremonial plate-mail he wore. There was a red sash around his waist, a red plume in his helm, and a splash of red fur at the tops of his boots and gauntlets. A brilliant red and white cloak, emblazoned with the emblem of KORT, the guild he loved. A new broadsword grace his left hip in cleverly wrought scabbard of black and red leather.

There was a brief stir from the right of the assembly as the Squire Jequelle and Lord Tuvor, KORT Arch-Mage and Knight Count, arrived on the scene and mounted the dias. Jequelle took her place at the outermost seat in the semi-circle and, with a whispered word of encouragement, Tuvor strode to his place with the other officers.

A hush fell over the crowd as the musicians began to play the solemn and grand Anthem that was KORT's theme anthem. The assembly rose and with bowed head and pride-filled hearts listened to the mighty chorus of instruments as the melody swelled and overflowed them. As the music approached it climax, Lord Shumard, Guild Master and Knight Baron, Keeper of Excalibur mounted the center stairs and moved solemnly to his center seat, the fabulous and exalted seat of the Leader of this noble guild. In his hands he tenderly held Excalibur, the ancestral and legendary weapon of the Leader of the Knights of Round Table. As the Music swelled to its mighty, grand and beautiful conclusion, he held Excalibur reverently to his chest with closed eyes. As was always the case, the conclusion of the anthem left many with tears on cheeks and hearts nearly burst with pride and joy. There was a moment of complete silence, as if all present were overawed by the grandeur and glory of the setting; then Shumard nodded briefly and the collected officers sat in unison. Shumard turned and placed Excalibur reverently across the arms of his seat, and turned and approached the podium.

"Greetings Gentle Knights" he began his brief invocation. "'Tis our most definite pleasure once again to gather to welcome into our fellowship another most worthy applicant. The glad fellowship that is KORT cannot continue without the enlargement of ranks by such worthy applicants. It is my most seemly honor to declare this Initiation open and to welcome Sir Exegete Nicator de la Forge, the sponsoring Knight, to the podium. Brother Exegete..."

With a deep breath, Exegete stood and walked briskly to the podium. He took Shumard's hand and returned his firm handshake. He turned to the podium and removed his gauntlets, placing them on top of the podium. With a smile in Jequelle's direction, he focused his eyes on the assembled Knights, Squires and Pages. He cleared his throat and in a voice that grew ever stronger he began to speak.

"Our part in this most delicate and fair of realms
To date is scarcely enjoyed lest evil run to near
And strike at those whose offense is little more
Than being young and weak and close at hand

It is the Knights of KORT, and others likely called
Who interpose themselves and stand for those whose
Weakness makes them target for they, despicable all,
Who free and without good conscience, feed on their misfortune.

Tis enough to be a part of so noble an institution
As is here so well represented amoungst this fair troop
Whom Tyr hast called to stand before the horde of evil
And Nasher set to stand & defend his noble realm.

And so we stand and bare our weapons and bash our shields
And call the evil hordes to come and
Reckon with the Knights of the Table round!

If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
To do our noble guild the loss; and if to live,
The fewer Knights, the greater share of honor.
Tyr's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.

By the gods, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honor,
I am the most offending soul alive.

No, faith, my fellows, wish not another man's aid!
Tyr's peace! I would not lose so great an honor
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!

Rather proclaim it, good Knights, through the mighty host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.

This fellowship is call'd the Knights of KORT
He that joins this fellowship, and stands and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this fellowship is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of KORT!

He that shall walk and fight 'longside this name , and see old age,
Will always at the mention of the noble fight
'Gainst evil's foul intention
Regale his neighbors, and say
"I was there!, I was a part of that noble breed,
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had while fighting there
To bane and scour evil's hateful form!
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did for KORT and King.

Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Orion, Dagron, and Shumard,
Sylphee and Tuvor, Berrun and Augustus -
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.

This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Feast day shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he that sheds his blood with for good, for King
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;

And gentlemen in the Realms
Who take no part in this noblest of fights
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not part,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us noblest of battles at the side of KORT!
For the Good of the Realms!.

After a brief moment of awed silence, the great hall erupted into applause. One could hardly hear one's own voice over the din of glad cries and bashing shields. It seemed as if the very rafters would shatter at the noise of their agreement. Even the very stones of Ancient Camelot seemed to lend voice to the sentiment of the assembled crown. After a few moments, Exegete raised his hands for quiet, and as that quiet gradually descended and order was restored, Exegete spoke once again...

"And now se have another seeking entrance
To our happy brotherhood
Tried and tested, she has borne up nobly
Under trial of lance and sword
She begs your leave to be a part
Of this great and grand undertaking
She craves a seat at the noble Table Round!
Jequelle, sister in arms and noble Lady fair
Come thee hither, kneel and prepare to swear thy fealty

A slight stirring in the surrounding Knights was testimony to the beauty and radiance of the Squire Jequelle as she stepped meekly forward and knelt before Sir Exegete in humility and anticipation. The moment seemed to freeze in time, The grandeur of ancient Camelot, flags flapping gaily in the wind, the collected armor of 30 Knights, Squires and Pages shining brightly in the sun, pendants, cloaks, and ruffles; like islands of color in a sea of shining silver, lending a marvelous and breathtaking hue to the assembly. And in the midst of all this; the Lady Jequelle kneeling humbly, head bowed as she awaited the highest honor of Knighthood.

All eyes were on her as Sir Exegete step from the podium and went and stood before the now risen Lord Shumard. With bowed head and outstreched palms he awaited Shumard's pleasure. Shumard reverently withdrew Excalibur from it's ancient scabbard. Holding it by the root of it's magnificent blade, he placed it upon Exegete's waiting palms. Exegete closed his hands around the mighty weapon and nodded in respect to Shumard. Holding the sword as one would hold a sacred relic, Exegete turned went to stand before Jequelle on the dias. As he turned, the rest of the officers rose, and all followed him and formed a semi-circle around Jequelle. The stern look that marked Exegete's face told the lie revealed by the affection and respect in his eyes. In voice that was tightly controlled, but still belied the emotions he was feeling he said...

"Dost swear to uphold the ideals of knighthood?

Wilt thou defend the weak, strike at evil's black heart and lend thy sword to the cause of the good of the realms?

Wilt thou stand in integrity, honor, justice and mercy?

Wilt thou demonstrate charity and compassion on those weaker and less fortunate?

On pain of thy life. Wilt thou swear to stand and be known in the realms as a Noble Knight of KORT given to the good, ready to defend the honor of the guild and thy brother and sister Knights?

Dost thou understand the laws of the realms of KORT?

If so Milady, so swear before these noble witnesses!"

With eyes shining with tears, Jequelle looked up into Exegete's eyes, and then at the jeweled handle and the radiant blade of the mighty symbol of all that was KORT. With a swallow that was an attempt to control the rage of pride and joy that welled within her heart, she answered his charge "I do so swear Milord - with glad and free heart I do so swear!"

In a fluid motion, Sir Exegete seized the handle of the great sword and raised it high in the air. "Behold Excalibur!" he cried in mighty voice. The great blade shone mightily in the sun that shone through the high windows of the great hall. All else in the room seemed to pale as it's glory stood bare for all present to see and consider in awe. "Huzzah! Huzzah! Came the thunderous response for thirty voices shouting as if one.

After a moment he lowered Excalibur and laid it upon Jequelle's right shoulder saying "In the name of Saint Michael". Moving the ancient sword to touch her left shoulder he said "In the name of Saint George" Grandly raising the sword for a moment and pointing it directly at Jequelle's heart he said "And in the Name of God". He paused a moment as Jequelle reverently kissed the tip of the grand blade. "I pronounce thee Knight and give thee duty of carrying out the laws and requirements of a Knight of the Round Table!" Jequelle choked back a sob and bowed her head, a tear sliding down her cheek and her pride and joy threatened to overcome her. Exegete continued after brief moment. "Rise and greet thy new family"

Swallowing her emotion as best she was able, The Lady Jequelle, newly a Knight of the Table Round, rose and faced the assembled Knights, Squires and pages, her new family and smiled.

And the room exploded in a pandemonium of applause and cheers.