From the Chronicles of Bildas the Surly:
After the Roman legions left Britain, years of lawlessness and strife ensued.  Bands of brigands roamed the land.  Gradually, a rash of petty kings established themselves.  They were little better than the brigands and in many cases were the brigands.  To pay their armies, the petty kings engaged in warfare with their neighbors.  This occurred every year from the time the crops were planted until it came time for the harvest.
It was during these times that the youth in East Anglia began kicking around a leather ball filled with rags.  It gradually spread beyond East Anglia and teams sprouted up through the land.  In some cases, its popularity was such that the petty kings turned to football matches instead of warfare.
Then came the invaders.  For many terrible summers, raiders descended upon the coast of Britain and caused great damage and loss of life.  Each year, more of the Angles, Jutes and Saxons, swarmed over our poor coast and went inland using the rivers.  Each year, the slaughter moved further south until, in 434, the invaders found the southeast corner of Britain.  Since it was so late in the season, the Saxons didn’t venture along the southern coast, but all the kings knew the Saxons would go there next summer.  Everyone shuddered at that threat, because the southern shore was the most undefended part of the land.

December 435 C.E.
Caewlin, king of Glenvum, called the neighboring kingdoms to a meeting to develop a strategy for the next season’s warfare.
The meeting took place in his castle on the Severn River just before the new year.  All the kings traveled through heavy snow to attend, but the desperate straits of the country precluded any of them from making an excuse not to show up.  After the traditional feast, carousel and hangover recovery, the meeting took place in the second afternoon.  Caewlin made a few introductory remarks then asked, “So what do we do about the southern shore?  We can’t let the barbarians use it as an assembly point to march inland.  If that happens, I’ll end up fighting a battle outside my walls.”
All of the kings were middle-aged with husky builds and vicious expressions.
“The obvious solution,” Penda, the king of Isca, said, “is to make someone the Count of the Southern Shore.  It will be his job to protect the area.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” King Bree from Ratae replied.  “But what’s he supposed to use for troops?”
“The only way for that plan to succeed is for all of us to contribute some warriors to help him defend the land,” Caewlin replied
“I can’t give him many,” Vertigen, king of Aqua Sulis, said.  “I have to defend my own lands.”
“So, who gets the job?” Bree asked.
“I’ll propose my nephew,” Oswald, King of Venta said.  “He’s a pain in the ass, always nagging me to put him in charge of a squadron of knights and let him raid Saxon strongholds.”
“Isn’t that Pendragon’s kid, Arthur?” Caewlin asked.
“Yeah, that’s him,” Oswald replied.  “Thinks he’s God’s gift to Britain.  Calls himself Artie.”
“Isn’t he the one who’s always kicking a leather ball around?”  Vertigen asked.
“Uh-huh.  He’s always got one with him,” Oswald replied.  “Has it stuffed with rags.  All the young knights do it.  I don’t know what’s wrong kids these days.  When I was their age, all I was interested in was slaughter and rapine.”

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