Behold The Rooms Of Ruin

Since Mordred is a telepath, among other things, please put information permissions here.

Mordred's world plays with the fourth wall so much already, they even have a name for 'author of your story'. Two of them, actually. So go right ahead!

And no killing or seriously injuring my Mordred, thankee sai.

The Mordred of Arthurian legend was abandoned, embittered and killed by his own father. Sai King chose this one's name well, say true.

 *Mordred was getting used to having his own home. He was even used to the rather odd people who lived nearby, the Door to nowhere that he could open to anywhere if he tried and the rather odd geography of the area.

*Other people, however, would probably not enjoy walking in on him. If only because of the spiderwebs, the fact that his home was a cave in a rock spire and the unlikely canyon right outside.*

Children are strange. So are spiders. And remember: sometimes children are also spiders.

 Mordred hates thinnies, really he does. Thinnies, old oak doors, todash and all other methods of unorthodox travel.

This probably has something to do with the fact that he is currently sprawled on a lawn in completely the wrong universe, with no way to get back.

After a second or two he gets up and wanders to the door of the house. There's bound to be food in there somewhere, he can feel at least one mind. "Let me in, sai, if ya would. Mordred's a-hungry and a-lost!"

Have you even had a moment, an hour, or a day that renewed your faith in the fundamental goodness of humankind?
No.