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Pierre La Or. The knighting of Jean. PDF Print
Monday, 25 February 2008
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Pierre La Or. The knighting of Jean.
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 Hello there. This is my  first story regarding my vampire brettonian army. This is the story of how Jean, my Battle Standard Bearer got knighted by my general Pierre La Or. 

                                                The Knighting of Jean


His horse slowly trudged on the dirt roads of the village in Bordelaux. He looked around, observing the scenery with his senses. It was night time. The best time for Pierre; who always cherished the mysteries of the night. The knight and his squire where on a late evening visit. His squire had been very annoying recently, wanting to visit his love, but Pierre did not abandon him. He was not like the others. He had faith in his abilities to judge a character and he knew that the boy had a lot of potential in him and would make a fine Grail knight. Furthermore who was he to deny Jean his love?  Pierre knew about love himself and he would not have Jean suffer from it, at least before he must. It was in their nature. All of Pierre’s kind suffered because of love.  He silently uttered a prayer to the Lady to spare Jean from the pain of love but he knew it was hopeless. The Lady believed in trials and the pain of separation was one of the greatest trials. And she had already made up her mind for tonight and even Pierre went through it and he learned never to love. Immortals cannot love mortals. And that was something Jean had do understand before Pierre gave him the Dark kiss and set him off to find the Blood grail. Pierre smiled. Immortality; something all crave yet few have. The preachers of Sigmar hunt his kindred down, preaching about blasphemy and abominations, yet all of the preachers crave the power the immortals have. The knights of Brettonia hunt his kindred, declaring his bloodline to be a parody of chivalry. “Pah” he thought” Who are they to judge? How do they know? How can they understand what it is like being one of them”? “A vampire”.

Through his vampire senses he could listen to the breaths of the villagers all locked up on their shelters. He could sense the rain in the atmosphere even if it will take at least two more hours before the first raindrops touch the ground.  Grinning he cherished his powers, after many years of torment, and he truly found himself. He was a child of darkness, a doomed duke of cursed land and hunted down for all eternity. And he loved  it. He once again thanked his Lady of the Dark for her Blood Grail and turned to Jean who was a few meters behind, being curious as always. He was merely twenty two years old but he was a tall man, strongly built with a posture suitable for knight and blindly in love... Jean’s blonde wavy hair flew with the evening breeze. Jan’s face looks like it just started maturing. He had round but thin features on his face without a beard and a very pink complexion.    “Jean, don’t fall behind” Pierre ordered in a strict but warm tone.  Jean spun out of any distant thoughts he had and spurred his horse to reach his master.  “Sorry master” he added in a regretful tone. Pierre looked on the boy’s eyes. eJan’s  piercing brown eyes stared back.” Never regret any action unless you are willing to learn from the mistake you made” Pierre said. “And looking in your love-struck eyes I can but only expect you to get lost in your thoughts once more my squire. Yet be patient. We are here” Pierre said and pointed at the tall, four tower castle that dominated the hill on top of the village. “Quite a strong castle they have here. Been fighting much?” Pierre asked his squire. Jean nodded “ The Carrnon  are constantly besieged by Beastmen my lord. “ he said. Pierre nodded and continued his advance to the castle quietly.

Jean looked at his master. Pierre was a tall man, with broad shoulders and a well built posture. His hair was straight, long and black, reaching up to his shoulders. Pierre face was something rather peculiar. It had a gaunt outline and soft, full cheeks but his face was somewhat thin. His master’s black armour came in direct contrast with the red clothing.  He wore the traditional Brettonian knight tunic with a long red cloak strapped on his back.  Sanquine, Pierre’s vampiric horse wore a black barding with a gray background on the heraldry and on the heraldry is the Blood grail and the blood read teardrop. Yet Jean could tell from where his master was from. He was Carcassonian. He knew this by the birth sword his master still bore into battle after so many years but never actually asked his master about it. He knew that it pained or angered his master to ask of his past. He looked at his master’s helmet. It was a mail coif  and a steel helmet with a steel Dragon on top. He understood his master’s true nature and was slightly concerned about taking him to the Carrnon, but Jean  knew his master would do no such thing as drink from them. Scary as he was, the La Or nobility had worked wonders on the land they owned. They cleared the swamps, brought soil from fertile lands and replanted their lands. It was truly a paradise within the dark corners of Mousilion. A land of actual green, where crops actually grew and the undead were on the peasant’s side. He had heard his master’s theory on man a lot of times. He believed that humans worked better than the zombies and skeletons that all the other vampires use as they are far more zealous when inspired properly. Although somewhat insane, his master knew the strategic value of men at arms and did not hesitate to rely on his own men at arms instead of his knights.  Also eJan believed that Pierre was using men instead of the undead because it made him feel a bit more humane. Yet he had seen his master in the battlefield and he somehow doubted that. No matter how chivalrous he was he was still a monster to behold, chopping knight after knight looking for the perfect adversary.  Yet none was found.

“Who goes there?” a voice broke the silence and interrupted both of the knight’s thoughts.  Pierre looked up into the castle’s battle lines and saw a man at arm holding a torch looking directly down at them. It was at that time that Pierre noticed the pure magnitude of the castle. It was huge, made out of brown stone and reinforced by a lot of battle-lines and windows. Whoever made this surely knew of strategy. “It is Sir Grail Knight Pierre La Or, son of Andrew La Or of Carcasson and I bring with me my squire Sir Errant Knight  Jean La Or otherwise known to you as Jean Carrnon, adopted by this very family living behind this walls before I took him under my wing”. The peasant felt unease, Pierre felt the guard’s blood flow faster even from that far below. For a lowlife such as the peasant, having to confront a Grail Knight was something very stressful. The peasant knew his place and was afraid of the knight’s wraith. “Wait here Sir. I shall fetch my lord.” Pierre nodded, mildly irritated that the peasant did not at least let him in inside the castle. Jean slowly rode to his side. “Master I have a request” he exclaimed quietly. Pierre smiled. He knew what the boy would ask. It was only natural. “That I do not feast on their blood?” The Grail Knight responded. The boy looked up in surprise. Pierre grinned. “It is only natural to ask Jean. I won’t if they don’t offend me, squire” he said and Jean knew that his master’s word was honoured.  Or at least he hoped…

Last Updated ( Tuesday, 26 February 2008 )
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