Legends tell of a massive ancient sword lost, whose blade was sealed inside a cube of stone and that one who pulls it from this stone will be Chief of all chiefs, or “king”. Thus uniting the warring tribes of Albion under a single banner, and finally embark into the outside world bringing about a golden age of conquest.
A rather unremarkable tribesman of Albion was lost in the woods looking for this sword, and prayed to the gods to find his way out. None answered, as there is no god in Albion associated with finding ones way. However there is a god not of Albion that knows all, even the location of a mythical sword, and so faintly guided the poor lost soul to its resting place. The man was astounded at the find, truly a major point of Albionic history would be marked this day, should he tell the Truthsayers and they record it. But one quick attempt should be made first… Try as he might he could not wrest it from the stone. The ogham script spoke of the legend, the magical carvings sealed the sword away only for the one who is worthy. But why should it not be he? The one who found the sword should be the one that wields it.
He would leave the woods and return to his village, building muscle, and some renown as a warrior within his tribe as is the way of Albion. Years passed, and obsession gained, he would leave his village for the shrine of the sword to try again and again each day. It would consume him, and the god that knows all saw an opportunity, for this god is also the god of trickery, and plotting though he would never want to fulfil such a powerful prophecy, he would give the tribesman a way to lift the sword without pulling it out of the stone.
And so the tribesman whose name had meant little to the world gained impossible otherworldly strength, and ripped the stone out of the ground with the sword still in it. In his addled mind he had fulfilled the prophecy, he is now King of the Chiefs Verartorix! But what of the chiefs ? They refuse him, warriors attack the twisted man on sight, and he is wholly rejected from society.
The thing would travel North, and find kin in a former enemy, the expansive swamps and the Citadel of Lead to the North, the former stronghold of the First Everchosen. From there he gathers men of power behind him, a crown is fashioned for his brow, and he smashes those that stand in his way. Especially those that claim to be Chiefs, when their King has revealed himself! They are pretenders and must be smashed. He crushes them, and in Albionic tradition fashions the most prized skulls to his waist.
The sword is impossibly large, was it even meant to be unsheathed? Or a story given life by some ancient sculptor wishing to tell a simple tale? Whatever the answer, the blade should extend well beyond where it had been ripped from the ground. *(I really just ran out of space)