The Last Great War had taken more than just blood from the kingdom of Camelot. Along with the heavy stench of death, the war had turned the once prosperous country, blushing with glorious beauty, into a diseased cesspool of polluted wasteland. The land was not the only thing the war tainted with disease and ruin, the people were just as putrid as the land itself. Tribes that were once united under one great king now were divided and ruled by men so vile they could no longer be considered human but rather demons inhabiting flesh. Despite the disease, famine, and toxic pollution that plagued the land of Camelot, the people, as wretched and broken as they were, still managed to engage in petty, violent, and costly feuds. Where there was once the magnificent and strong Castle of Camelot, that housed the noble and honorable court, now stood a fortress-like factory, home to mutants and other such abominations. Most of the Castle's stones had been replaced with iron and machine, rotten and worm ridden was the mighty oak beams that had served as the wooden skeleton of the castle, and beyond the castle's towers were two equally as wide identical cylinders that served as vents for the factory. Smog clouds so thick they appeared like heavy blankets, constantly darkened the sky, further contributing to the air pollution and disease of the land. It made the abomination of architecture that was the factory-castle hybrid look as though it had two large horns that reached all the way up to the black grayness that once was the sky. The smog released from the factory stained everything in the land black and covered all in darkness.
These were unfortunate times indeed. People no longer stole for bread but for possessions much more savage and desperate. Arthur's body was never found after The Last Great War. Some of the old sighed words of legend in their dying breaths before leaving this world. They whispered "he rests under a hill with all his knights." Their king, ready to ride forth and save the country of Camelot once again.