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The downfall of Arthur began during the quest for the Holy Grail, a quest that ultimately proved in vain, taking the lives of many brave knights. Next, the remaining knights found themselves torn apart when Lancelot began an affair with Arthur's queen, Guenivere. This led to a civil war when Arthur sought to punish Lancelot.
Finally, the death blow came when Arthur went to war against his traitorous son Mordred, a war so brutal that it was said to be the end of the Golden Age of Chivalry. Arthur was gravely wounded in this battle, and was taken away to the Isle of Avalon for healing. Even today, the British believe that he will one day return to usher in another Golden Age.
Battle vs. Hua Mulan (by Samurai234)Edit
No battle written.
Battle vs. Attila the Hun (by Urbancommando77)Edit
As the sun rose over the mid-summer English day, plumes of smoke rose from the hilltop castle, fallen to a Barbarian menace. Across the fields and in the castle lay dead knights and fallen huns; an unnerving sight. No one escaped the battle alive, except 5 huns, and 2 knights, all on the fields in front of the
Attila paced in front of the two bound knights, a malicious smile stretching across his dirt-smeared face. Sir Bors was beaten and bruised, now close to death, but Percival was largely untouched. Attila grabbed the sweating face of Bors, dragging him to his feet.
"You." Attila muttered. "You and your men tried to fight back. And you'll regret doing so." He pushed Bors forward, whilst two Huns picked up Percival. Attila brought Bors to a horse, before kicking him down onto the ground, and tying his legs to the horse. "Now," Attila began. "I'll give you one more chance to answer--" Before Attila could finish, Bors spat in his face. "Very well." Attila said spitefully. He jumped atop the horse, and began running across the field, dragging Bors across rough, muddy, uneven grounds.
"What's he doing? Bors? Bors!" Percival began shouting, until a Hun punched the back of his head. Attila kept up with it, stopping periodically to check if Bor was still alive. After 30 minutes, Attila got fed up, and pulled Bors up.
"Please...let me--Hrggk!" Attila dragged his Sword of Mars across Bors' neck, kicking him down, stomping his head in, and muttering curses. Attila scaped his boot on the grass, chuckling to himself. His pleasure was cut short, as he heard the clattering of hooves getting closer. He looked to his right, and found 4 horseback knights charging Attila. He signaled his men back into the castle, leaving Percival in the field.
Arthur, accompanied with Galahad, Kay, and Lancelot, rode to the smoking castle. They stopped 100 feet from the fortress, finding the field of dead knights, but one in particular.
"Sir..." Galahad said mournfully. "I think I found Bors." Arthur approached a horribly deformed knight, who had a shield a striped shield on his back.
"My god." Arthur muttered. He drew his blade and looked towards the castle, finding Percival on his knees, bound. He sends Kay and Lancelot for him, who untie him and arm him with a crossbow. The three returned to Arthur, Percival lagging behind.
"M'lord," Percival said, fatigued. "We were attacked by--" Before he could finish, an arrow flew past Percival's ears.
The knights jumped on their horses, and charged the castle. Percival stayed behind, firing his Crossbow. With each bolt, he had to a minute to reload. The knights, lead by Arthur charged through the battered gates, into the courtyard. Kay charged a Hun, armed with a Pike, striking one in the shoulder, and knocking him down. The other hun, armed with a bow, waited for Kay to run towards him again. As Kay began another round, he fired an arrow, which struck Kay in the neck, but at the same time, the Hun was impaled on the pike.
The injured Hun rose to his feet, finding that Kay and the fallen Hun were in a heap he looked forward, finding Arthur and the Knights dismounting, and charging up the castle walls, and Percival running through the gates. The hun charged Percival, armed with a Javelin in a throwing position. Percival raised his crossbow, firing, but missing. He brought it down, placing his foot in the stirrup and cranking up the arrow. The hun threw his Javelin, which smashed the crank, sending the arrow into Percival's foot.
"Agh!" Percival fell to the ground, grabbing his pierced foot. The Hun approached Percival, who crushed his windpipe under his foot.
The 3 knights arrived up on the ramparts, Lancelot and Arthur splitting from Galahad, the latter heading for two Hunnic Archers. The two aimed for the young knight, who was armed with a flail. He narrowly dodged their first two arrows, the third arrow glancing his exposed leg. Galahad shook it off, bashing one Hun off the ramparts and swinging his flail into the other's ribs. The Hun fell to the ground, groaning. Galahad held the flail head in his hand, dropping it on the hun's head.
Galahad regrouped with Lancelot and Arthur, who're looking for the leader of the Huns. "Who led these godless barbarians?" Lancelot muttered. Galahad shrugged. Suddenly, a Hun ran up on the walls, armed with a Scythian Axe. Lancelot, itching for payback, charged the Hun, but much to his surprise, was met with an Axe directly in his juggular. The barely alive Lancelot shoved his Longsword directly into the sternum of the hun.
Attila sat in the far right watchtower of the castle, joined by an injured Hun. He saw Galahad and Arthur approaching, and equipped himself with a Composite bow, and fired an arrow directly into Galahad's knee, knocking him down. He then signaled the last Hun to finish them off. The Hun ran down the tower, bursting forward at Galahad and Arthur. Arthur held Excalibur present and slashed through the Hun, straight the through the lamellar, and out the other side. The Hun collapsed into two pieces.
"Sir Galahad," Arthur began. "Are you alright?"
"Aye." Galahad winced. "I don't think I can fight, M'lord."
Arthur nodded and headed towards the tower, but Attila was already there, armed with The Sword of Mars. Attila charged Arthur, the two plummetting into the courtyard. Attila slowly rose to his feet, holding his foot on Arthur's chest.
"What a nice blade." Attila said, looking at Excalibur. "But it has no importance to me." He stomped on the blade, expecting it to shatter. "Huh?" The blade did not even crack. Arthur, taking his chance, knocked Attila down, and picked up Kay's Pike. Attila slowly rose to his feet, only to be met with the head of a spear. Arthur smiled victoriously, but much to his surprise, Attila ran up the spear and ran The Sword of Mars into Arthur's chest. Arthur dropped the spear, the dead Attila on the other end, and collapsed. Galahad limped towards his lord.
"M'lord! Are you alright?" Galahad supported Arthur's head.
"I won't make it, Galahad." Arthur said weakly. "Take my blade...and throw it into the lake." Galahad took Excalibur in his hands, and left the castle alone.
As Galahad threw the blade in the lake, a hand caught it, and when he returned to the castle, Arthur was gone, with no trace of him.
Battle vs. Beowulf (by CuchulainSetanta)Edit
On the shores of Britain, Beowulf arrives in a longboat, looking to test his skills in this strange land. Disembarking and heading inland, he comes across King Arthur, riding a warhorse, who had been alerted to a strange ship sighted of the coast. Seeing Beowulf, he calls to him. In answer, Beowulf readies a flaming arrow and fires at the warrior-king. Arthur is hit, but his armor deflects the arrow, putting out the fire as it impacts. Now angry, Arthur readies his lance and charges.
Beowulf leaps out of the way of the charge, bringing out his bearded axe as he does so. Turning around, Arthur readies his own bow and fires on Beowulf, who chops the arrow out of the air. Arthur charges again, but this time, instead of evading, Beowulf grabs the lance and pulls Arthur off his horse.
Getting back up, Arthur pulls out a war hammer and swings at Beowulf, who blocks the strike with his axe. Beowulf returns with a strike of his own, which Arthur dodges. Again, Arthur swings, but this time aims for the axe's shaft, breaking it in two. Furious, Beowulf unsheathes the Sword of Cain, while Arthur brings out Excalibur.
The two legendary swords clash again and again, neither warrior giving quarter. Eventually, however, Arthur tires from warding off Beowulf's strong blows, and the Dane sees and opening. Beowulf sweeps Arthurs legs out from under him, then pins him down. In his heavy armor, Arthur is helpless as Beowulf pulls out his sax and stabs Arthur in the neck. Holding his sword aloft, Beowulf shouts a victory cry.
The main factor that put Beowulf on top was his previous victories here on Deadliest Fiction. When someone is able to kill Hercules, not many can challenge them and come out victorious.
Rematch vs. Beowulf (by Laquearius)Edit
"Here we are, Sir Knights... Geatland. Another kingdom for to be claimed for Britain!"
The bow of Pridwen slid into the soft sand of the Geatish shore. They had made landfall at one of the few beaches on the rocky coastline, and had needed to sail for several hours to find it, lest their ship be wrecked about the jagged stones. Arthur gazed off into the horizon: flat grasslands made up much of the terrain that lay before him, which only a few scattered trees and hills.
'Good, good...' thought Arthur. 'It is a perfect pathway for my army, once the other ships arrive.'
Coastal villages in Britain had been harassed by Geatish raids for some time now, and the Round Table had come to the conclusion that not only must the raids stop, but Geatland must be made to swear fealty to Arthur, just as its neighbors had. Arthur and forty knights had arrived to scout the area and clear out any immediate local resistance, opening the path for the mighty army of Camelot.
A short distance away, unbeknownst to the Britons, Arthur's men where being watched. A lone Geatish scout had spotted the arriving ship from a hilltop and watched as the knights disembarked. Hesitating for only a moment, the scout dashed down the hillside and off to the city, the only thought on his mind being the need to inform the king.
Arthur and his men wasted no time setting up a camp. Tents where erected, wells were dug, and fires were lit. Arthur had issued a command that all men were required to be in full armor at all times, ready to fight at a moment's notice. If any Geats were to discover the encampment, they needed be dealt with immediately. The risk of allowing any to escape and inform the Geats of their arrival before Bedivere and the army could reach them was far too great.
Beowulf pondered over the information his scout had just delivered to him. "They were Britons, sir, I'm sure of it. The ship, their armor... the weapons. It is only a small force now, but more will certainly follow! Sir, they mean no less than war!" The old king stroked his bear as he considered his options. Then he spoke.
"As king, it is my duty to defend my people from any and all outside threats. We will end this matter quickly."
He turned to a heavily armored soldier at his side. "Marshal, mobilize the guard. We will snuff out this attack before it can began."
"My king!" shrieked Kay as he burst into Arthur's tent. "The Geats! They're here!"
"I speak truth, my lord. I spotted them mustering on a hilltop, they are naught more than a hour's march away!"
"Then we waste no time! Raise the alarm, and ready the knights for battle!"
Beowulf calmly looked down on the Briton camp. To have the audacity to come to foreign lands with such a small force, and to make no attempt to flee when discovered... There was something amiss here. These men must not be any common warriors. The voice of the Geatish marshal broke the king's contemplative silence.
"Inspections are completed, me liege. Our men are in fit fighting condition."
Beowulf nodded, acknowledging the news. Turning his horse back to his army, he drew his faithful sword, Hrunting, and struck it against the rim of his shield. The clattering noise ended the chattering of the Geats and drew their attention to their king.
"Men of Geatland! Brothers, comrades in arms, warriors! These Britons have had the gall to intrude in our kingdom, the sacred lands of our forefathers! Today, they meet the same fate that awaits all who threaten our home and our families! With me!"
And with that, Beowulf gave a mighty cry, which was answered with the cheering of dozens of soldiers, all calling for the blood of the invaders.
Arthur and the knights were silent as the sound of thundering hooves filled the air. An army of Geats, numbering at least at one hundred, all on horseback, made their way over hill after hill. But even at this terrifying sight, the Briton king retained his composure. Calmly, but forcefully, he issued an order to the bow-wielding knight at his side.
"Tristan! Take out their lancers, as many as you can!"
"With pleasure, my lord," replied Tristan, and he let his arrows fly. The magical bow he wielded sent the his arrows spiraling into the throats of horses and men alike, sending many of them both crashing to the ground.
"Steady, my knights, steady!"
The Geatish cavalry reached Arthur's line. The Britons, each a magnificent warrior, seemed to dance through the spears and swords of the Geatish horsemen, effortlessly dodging strikes and quickly responding with their own. Beowulf watched in horror as dozens of his men were cut down by the knights in an instance. Pulling his horse to a halt, Beowulf knocked an arrow on his longbow and fired directly at Sir Kay. The arrow found its mark in the form of Kay's back.
Leaping off of his horse, sword and shield in hand, Beowulf forced his way through the crowds of soldiers to the wounded Kay, who was continuing to strike down Geats even in his state. Beowulf smashed his shield against the back of the knight's head, and an ear-splitting crack was heard. Kay's mangled body fall face-first to the earth.
Seeing his brother in arms be so cruelly struck down, Sir Gareth pulled his sword out of the body of a recently slain Geat and charged at Beowulf. The king easily deflected Gareth's strike and replied with a swing of Hrunting, which tore open Gareth's throat.
Arthur had been on his way to aid Kay when he saw Beowulf arrive. In only a matter of seconds, he had watched two of his dearest friends cut down by the unrelenting assault of the Geatish king. With a great fury inside of him, though tempered with focus, the British king steered his horse through the battlefield, his spear firmly in his grasp and his sights set on Beowulf's destruction.
"Beowulf!" shouted Arthur. "Your fight is with me!"
Beowulf heard the king's voice, and looked up to see the King of the Britons in all his glory. He rode atop a white horse, wielding a long spear in one hand and a shield in the other. Unlike his knights, he wore an open-faced helmet, which was adorned with a golden carving of a dragon. Even in the cloudy weather, light seemed to reflect off his armor, surrounding him with a bright aura.
Beowulf responded to the king's challenge by raising his shield and charging straight for him. Arthur's spear glanced off the thick iron shield, and Beowulf thrust his sword forward, stopping Arthur's horse in its tracks. He then gave a mighty shove, knocking the dead horse over and sending Arthur tumbling to the ground. Arthur quickly recovered, and rolled out of the way of Beowulf's next strike, which implanted itself in the earth. Snatching up his spear, Arthur readied himself for another exchange.
Arthur moved first. He rammed against Beowulf's shield with his own, pressing with all his might. However, Beowulf's strength was far too much for Arthur, who has forced back and knocked to the ground. Taking this opportunity, he raised his spear and thrust it forward, the tip diving under his opponent's shield and embedding itself in Beowulf's left calf.
Beowulf swung his shield down, breaking the spear in two, and stepped back to remove the spearhead. His weapon destroyed, Arthur drew a silver dagger from a sheath on his belt, and then removed his helmet. In its place, he pulled his hood over his head. When Beowulf looked up, Arthur was nowhere to be seen.
"Where are you, Briton!?" shouted Beowulf. "What kind of king flees and hides from a challenge of his own issue?!"
"A clever one..." whispered Arthur, as he hurled his dagger.
Carnwennan sailed through the air and pierced Beowulf's left shoulder, causing him to drop his shield in pain. He pulled the dagger out of his shoulder, and then tossed Hrunting aside. Instead, he drew the massive sword that he carried on his back.
"All out of tricks, coward? Face me!" he roared.
"Very well, barbarian!"
Beowulf spun around to see Arthur, who had removed his hood. He had his shield in his left hand, and his right was resting on the pommel of the sword at his side.
Beowulf gave a thunderous shout, and sprinted at his foe, raising his mighty sword above his head.
Arthur took a defensive stance. He tightened his grip on Excalibur's hilt.
Beowulf began to swing his blade, his stroke aimed at Arthur's neck.
Arthur drew his sword, and the resulting burst of light flooded Beowulf's eyes with pure white. Distracted by his blindness, and the burning pain that was beginning to swell in his calf, Beowulf had his swing easily parried by Arthur. Roaring with anger, Beowulf swung his sword wildly, hoping that he would land a blow, but it was to no avail. Arthur easily dodged and parried the maddened Geat's erratic strikes, before he saw an opening wide enough for him to deliver a strike of his own.
He swung Excalibur once, and Beowulf's head was separated from his shoulders.
Taking Beowulf's head by the hair, Arthur raised it into the air and gave a rallying cry.
Soon, every soldier on the battlefield saw the head of the King of the Geats held aloft by the King of the Britons.
"Now, Knights of Arthur!" shouted Sir Tristan. "To the king!"
Arthur's men, filled with courage from their king's victory, fought their way into a formation, and quickly cut down the remaining Geats. One horseman managed to flee the battlefield, but he did not escape Tristan's arrows.
The battle over, and Kay and Gareth given proper burials, Arthur set about gathering his scattered equipment. As he cleaned the blood off of Carnwennan's blade, he looked out over the shore and into the sea, where a row of familiar ships could be seen coming through the fog.
Winner: King Arthur
Beowulf has much greater strength and endurance than Arthur, and he could mostly match Arthur in weaponry. However, he relies too much on his strength in combat, something an experienced, intelligent, and well-armed opponent such as Arthur will be able to exploit. Arthur also has the benefit of better defense and magical effects on much of his equipment.
The original battle was declared to be invalid due to its use of incorrect and nonexistent weapons, and nonsensical votes.
Sing, O Muses, of the final voyage of Achilles
Strong he rose, and prepared for bloodlust, Achilles stood in his glamor
The inner city of Troy was laiden with death,
The echoes of the crows and ravens echoing through the city.
The blessing of Ares shone radiant from his armor,
Shining brighter than any of the fires in the forges of Hephasteus
And stronger than the steeds of Zeus' chariot.
The bloodthirsty warlord glared at the dogs before him.
"Go forth, my comrades! Let us fill the Underworld with their corpses!"
The loyal death bringers of Achilles stood, clad in bronze and iron
Armed with spear and shield and sling and bow.
The final men of Troy held firm, but none stood a match for his sword and spear
And bone with flesh and blood fell to the dusty floors,
And his spear was crimson with blood, and his armor was golden no more.
"No mortal man shall stand to my sword, and those that do shall join Hades!"
Achilles returned to his foes, dropping his spear and sword,
His strength alone brought death to the field, and men began the journey to the Underworld.
When the Trojan dogs lay dead on the floor
And their bodies cold as stone, Achilles roared the to cheering Myrmidons;
"Where is an opponent worthy enough for my blade? WHERE!"
He beckoned forth any Trojan to dare come forth,
To feel the wrath of his rage.
But the man he wished for came not from the city before him,
Instead, he lived in the land beyond the gods.
Arthur, the king of Camelot, was the man whom he begged.
Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon, stood upon his throne,
Excalibur by his side.
He had heard of a bane of the south
Who's blade had brought thousands to their grave.
The name was whispered in fear,
Panic twas in their voice.
Arthur had not worried about this monster of a man,
And never dreaded the day he would come.
But, alas! His squire had proved him wrong.
An armada as far as the mortal eye could see
Was heading to their beaches.
The flag of Pthia flew high in the winds
And the sun glared from their golden armor.
The man who had been whipsered in terror
The one who has filled the Earth with corpses.
This man was coming to the shores of Camelot,
Bloodlust twas probably his goal.
Arthur rode began the voyage, prepared for death itself.
As he stood with his knights and men, eager and nervous for their enemies,
Arthur rode through their ranks, yelling with such strength and courage;
"My fellow men and friends, today we will enter a battle.
A battle that may even be our last.
But know this! I have faith in our dear Lord
That we will stop this monster among men!
Mordred and Morgan le Faye, the Saxons and Romans,
We have stood to fight these threats, and we have triumphed!
And I know we shall do so once more!"
His men gave a loud cheer, bellowing his name,
And they had the faith in their king.
Achilles, the bane of Troy, would come to Camelot by the morrow.
But he would not survive to see the end of that wretched day.
Achilles stood at the helm, his voice loud with as the thunder itself,
"Behold, my great Myrmidons! Gather your strength and go onward!"
The Myrmidons yelled heartily, and onward they went.
The wrath of Posideon bellowed at them,
His trident casting waves the size of moutains.
Zeus cast thunder and lightning around them,
His anger at the warlord unmatched.
"You wish for a challenge, oh Achilles! A man worthy for your blade?"
Know this, your rage and anger will send you not to only an opponent worthy
But one better than your blade!
You may see clear skies and calm beaches,
But you know not what awaits you.
A king clad in iron, and his sword stronger than stone.
You shall meet this man, and know this;
Your corpse shall be no more than a shell
And the curse you bring onto our land shall be no more!"
Achilles heard not the threat of Zeus,
Nor did he care.
Instead, he mustered the strength to proceed through the maelstorm of the gods
And to Camelot, where the opponent he yearned for
The foe he praised the gods for,
Twas waiting for him.
Achilles left the ship, the sand shifting beneath him.
Before him stood an army, clad in iron and silver.
His felt rage rise from his heart, black as the night
And his eyes shone flames of the sun itself.
He got into his chariot, great spear and shield in hand.
"Send forth your greatest warrior forward
And watch his blood spill upon the Earth!
Show yourself, so that I may show that I,
Achilles, truly am the greatest warrior!"
The army of silver remained solemnly still
Listening to him rant utop the odd vehicle.
Suddenly, an arrow sharp as a sword flew
Whistling in the air.
It thudded into the chariot, breaking into several splinters.
Achilles spun around at it's direction,
Utter outrage arose from within, and he roared at the man before him.
Arthur walked onto the field once more, an arrow nocked again.
"Let us settle this like true men, o slayer of Troy.
Whoever proves the better warrior shall live to see the morrow."
Achilles stepped down from his chariot, and took javelin in hand.
"So be it foolish one, you alone shall fall to my blade!"
Achiles jogged at Arthur, his mighty spear in hand.
Yet Arthur held firm as stone as he nocked another arrow,
"Lord, permit upon this day the strength to kill a monster
And end his sinful days."
With those words to our Lord, and courage in his heart,
He let the arrow fly, it whistled in the air.
But Achilles ducked to the ground, the point meeting nothing but sand.
The Greek monster laughed in outrage as he slung forth one hefty spear,
And Arthur, oh brave Arthur, charged forth with Excalibur.
Achilles thrust his great spear, but Arthur dodged once more.
A feint and a recovery, a thrust and a parry, a chop and a block,
The two titans dualed as lions would, ferocious were their blades.
Achilles made one final sweep, his spear tripping Arthur to the ground.
He yelled in his glory, his hand held high in triumph,
"Upon this day be it known, that Achilles is the greatest of them all."
Arthur stood, though weakened by the blow, and hefted Excalibur back into his hands.
"Know this you monster of man, the battle has not been done!"
With victory in sight and his opponent left in a lustful daze,
Arthur swung Excalibur, clashing against his back.
And oh, behold the gods, the golden armor snapped like bark,
And Achilles turned once more, bewildered and in shock.
"This cannot be! The gods would not allow!
This armor is stronger than any iron, forged from the gods themselves!"
But Arthur swung Excalibur, his face as cold as steel
Achilles was swept upon the ground, his foot split in two.
'Alas, this cannot be! I am a machine of the gods, a bringer of death!"
"And this is why you shall fall!!" With those final words, Arthur ended their dual.
Raising the head of Achilles high, to cheers of his roraing knights,
"Behold, oh Myrmidons, the head of Achilles the Greek!
Spread througout the land the the bane of Troy is dead!"
The reason everyone backed Arthur were for a number of reasons, first and foremost because he was wielding much more powerful weapons against Achilles. While his rage and skill were formidable, Achilles did not posses the weapons or armor to defeat the high King of Briton.
Battle vs. Horace Altman (by Deathblade 100)Edit
The battle starts with Horace and five Araluen knights sitting around their camp. Horace and two of his men are on horseback, the other three on foot. They hear a series of horses snort and see King Arthur and five Knights of the Round Table advancing; Arthur and two knights on foot, three on foot. The two commanders watch each other for a few seconds before one of Arthur's knights fires a steel crossbow, killing one of Horace's infantrymen. Horace orders one of his infantry to retaliate. The Araluen fires his composite crossbow and hits one of Arthur's men in the neck. Horace orders one of his cavalry to attack.
The horseman charges down towards Arthur's line and thrusts a lance through one of Arthur's cavalry. Arthur grabs a pike and pulls the Araluen off his horse, before plunging the pike into the horseman's chest. Horace fires a crossbow bolt, which struck one of Arthur's men through the heart. One of Arthur's knights fires a crossbow bolt at an Araluen's chest, which is deflected by the knights buckler.
Two of Horace's knights charge towards Arthur and his remaining knights. One, Arthur stabs with Excalibur through the chest. The second is struck by a war hammer. Horace swings his buckler into one of the Arthur's knights, stunning him. A crossbow bolt strikes the stunned knight in the temple.
Arthur raises his pike and stabs the last Araluen knight in the neck. Horace swings his longsword into Arthur's last knight killing him. Horace dismounts, as Arthur draws Excalibur. The two duel for two minutes before Arthur deflects Horace's sword with his shield and slams his blade into Horace's neck. "You should have stayed at home boy" Arthur mutters sadly.
Expert's Opinion Edit
Arthur won due to superior long ranged weaponry and a larger shield.
Battle vs. Chrom (by Appelmonkey)Edit
Chrom won thanks to his greater agility, passive abilities and expiriance against thougher enimies. King Arthur might be arguably stronger and more experienced then Chrom, but in the end the High-King of Great Britain will bow to the Exalt of Yillse.
Battle vs. Aragorn (by BattleGames1) Edit