(easing tone) A soft morning breeze accompanied a gray sky. Many clouds flew over the horizon and all across washing out the sun. Camelot's white splendor now nothing more than bleached out, and thanks to the city's age, it was becoming more like the rest of the country -- dirtier.

(Choose a tone) Camelot was suppose to be the shinning beacon of what the entire kingdom strived to be, but from Anor's perspective, it was like an artist had splattered paint across a blank canvas and called it a masterpiece. Truly ironic considering how obscured the king was from the many problems plaguing the Kingdom.

(Choose a tone) A low growl emits from Gawain's lips as he got up as quickly as his body would allow him too. The man came up so fast that Lancelot thought Gawain pulled a muscle. 

Lancelot had completely forgotten the fact he was still wrestling against Gawain, and due to this, he recieved a wicked suplex that knocked the air out of him.