The Battle of Camlann (KAM-lən)

The Battle of Camlann was the last great convulsion of Albion’s mortal age, the final clash of sword and shield that closed the long reign of King Arthur. In the annals of the realm, it is spoken of with equal measures of reverence and grief — for in its fury, the kingdom’s unity was shattered, yet in its aftermath a new fate was quietly woven. Those who were there, and lived to tell, speak of a sense of inevitability in the days before the first charge — as if the air itself knew that Albion’s heart was about to be broken.   Myrddin Emrys, whose counsel had guided kings and stilled storms, foresaw the shape of this ending long before the first banners flew. To Emaré, the priestess whose hands would tend the wounded, he confided that the mists of Avalon would soon close forever to the mortal world. What was to come would not be the extinguishing of light, but its translation into another place, beyond time’s reach.   The field of Camlann lay in the west, where the rolling downs met the marshlands, and the river coiled like a serpent between the opposing hosts. For thirteen days it would become a crucible in which the last loyalties of Albion were tested. The sun and moon bore witness in their turns, the sky shifting from gold to ash, from silver to crimson, as the lives of men and women were poured out into the trampled earth.   From the first crossing of swords, it was a battle fought with the bitter knowledge that victory could not restore what had been lost. The enemy were not foreign invaders, but sons of Albion themselves — kin and countrymen divided by ambition, oath, and pride. That was the true cruelty of Camlann: it was a war without strangers.   Yet, within this maelstrom, the seeds of another destiny were sown. Myrddin had chosen his moment carefully, for the weaving of his design depended upon the convergence of wounds and wills. The tide of battle would bring Arthur and Duran to the brink, and in that crucible Myrddin’s path would open. The priestess Emaré would be there, not by chance but by the same thread of fate, her presence as essential as any sword-arm in the field.   And so Camlann came to be remembered not solely as an ending, but as a hinge in the long door of Albion’s history — a place where two worlds brushed against each other, and where, through blood and mist, a handful of the realm’s greatest souls were carried beyond the mortal horizon to a land that does not age, and does not die.

Leading up to the Battle

The roots of Camlann’s ruin reached far deeper than the soil upon which the armies would one day bleed. In the quiet years after the great campaigns, when Arthur’s court shone brightest, there were already fissures forming — cracks that no feast, no quest, and no triumph could fully seal.   At the heart of the sundering stood Mordred, kin to the king yet unlike him in spirit. Entrusted with rule in Arthur’s absence, Mordred’s ambition swelled until it eclipsed all thought of loyalty. When Arthur returned from his campaigns, he found his banner torn down and Mordred enthroned.   Arthur sought to avoid bloodshed and offered to divide the realm. Mordred met him with courteous words, but treachery lay close at hand. On the day of truce, the two leaders met unarmored, surrounded by their knights. Fate intervened in the form of a single unsheathed sword — whether by fear, accident, or design — and the fragile peace shattered in an instant.   Blades flashed, shouts rose, and the peace-table became a battlefield. Myrddin, watching from a distance, did not intervene. He had foreseen the inevitability of this clash; the threads of destiny were knotted too tightly to unpick. Even as the first charges were met, he began charting the course that would lead Arthur and the chosen few to Avalon.   To Emaré, who had traveled to tend the wounded, the air itself felt heavier than in any battle she had known, as though the sky leaned closer to witness what was to come.

Timeline Leading to the Battle of Camlann

 

The Battle

The clash at Camlann raged for thirteen relentless days. The opening moments were a chaos of dust and steel, knights of renown falling in the first hours.   By the seventh day, the earth was churned to mire. Emaré moved through the carnage, binding wounds with Sanddef guarding her.   On the thirteenth day, Halley’s Comet blazed across the sky. Myrddin saw it as the herald of what was fated: the end of an age.   In the final push, Arthur and Mordred met in single combat. Mordred struck deep into Arthur’s side; Arthur drove his blade through Mordred’s heart. Mordred fell dead, but the king’s wound was mortal. Lucan the Butler and Sir Bedivere carried Arthur from the press of battle.   Lucan’s strength failed; he died beside the king. Bedivere obeyed Arthur’s last command — to return Excalibur to the lake. Three times he went before he could cast it, and on the final throw the Lady of the Lake took the blade. Returning to Arthur, he found Myrddin ready to lead him into the mists.

The Battle of Camlann

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After the Battle

Myrddin and Bedivere bore Arthur to the lake. Myrddin parted the mists, revealing a barque waiting. Arthur was placed aboard, and the boat glided toward Avalon.   Meanwhile, Sanddef, with Emaré at his side, gathered the wounded. Other women of Avalon joined them. They moved by hidden paths, carrying Duran and others away from the field.   On the field itself lay the fallen: Gawain, Lucan, Mordred, Ywain, and countless others. Here ended the line of many noble houses.   Some survived in Albion to tell what they believed they had seen. To them, Arthur’s fate was uncertain, and their tales shaped the mortal legend: the king was not dead, but would return in the realm’s hour of need.   When both the boat and caravan reached Avalon, the mists deepened and the isle shifted into Tir na nÓg. This was not Myrddin’s doing, but fate’s design since the dawn of time.

To Avalon / Tir na nÓg	Fallen at Camlann	Survivors in Albion (Storytellers)
King Artorius Prince Duran Sir Galehaut Sir Sanddef Sir Silence (later Lady Silence) Sir Dinadan Sir Dinas Sir Griflet Sir Kay Sir Lanval Sir Priamus Lady Britomart Lady Emaré Myrddin Emrys	Sir Mordred Sir Gawain Sir Lucan Sir Ywain	Sir Bedivere Sir Cynwyl Sir Morfran

Postscript: The Chronicle of Albion

In the years that followed Camlann, Albion lived in the shadow of its loss. Survivors told their stories, shaping a legend that the king was not dead, but sleeping until the realm’s hour of need. The truth of Avalon’s passage into Tir na nÓg remained hidden, known only to those who crossed the mists.