Salutations my fellow knights! I've been thinking out my army fluff for AoS and thought you lads might want to see it.
Major inspiration from my friend darknight from the Empire and his mighty Legion of Myrmidia.
http://warhammer-empire.com/theforum/index.php/topic,50855.0.html
I'll continue from where I left off on my Heraldry lore.
There's some truly inspiring heraldries and backgrounds here, great work noble knights.
I've made a better heraldry to reflect that my valiant Bretonnian army hails from Carcassonne.
Here's the background:
Before the heraldry- Two noble families, one of a heraldry of a golden sword on a blue field and the other with a golden sword on a crimson field, guarded a treacherous pass that lead over the vaults and into Tilea. Trade was scarce due to the dangerous roads and the always present danger of orcs and beastmen.
These desperate times lead to skirmishes between the two households over petty lands and slim resources, the blood between the two families had always been bad but only in rivalry. Now blood of noble knights and stalwart yeomen was being spilt over measly pickings. The nobility of nearby lands jested at this feud and compared it to two mangy dogs fighting over a bone that was more dirt than marrow, they planned on taking over once the dogs were spent from their struggles.
These were dark times that would see the two houses destroyed. The one thing of good to come from this was two injured knight errants from the two respective families holding a parlay and bandaging their wounds at a rundown hovel. When one of the knights fell over from grievous wounds the other knight was there to catch him, only to find out that the knight was not a man but a woman in disguise.
That night the female knight told her tale of having to fight for her family's honor as her brother's illness would see him dead and she anwsered her lord's call to arms in his stead. Though the land wasted away from war and poverty, it was here at least that love blossomed amidst a desert of ruin.
Creation of the heraldry- In the war torn years since this meeting, the feuding houses were at their weakest. They could not fight any longer and thus their duty to defend the king's pass was at a end. A nearby baron new of this and under the premise of taking control of the two houses for the security of Carcassonne he struck out to subdue the two families, by force if necessary.
The houses heard of the baron's intent and gathered the last of their strength to meet him. So upon a large weathered field, where it seemed vegetation refused to grow, the houses met the baron. Theirs was a humble force as the army of blue and crimson stood far apart from one another, ragged yet resolute, while the baron's force was a resplendent force that was an array of heraldries and seasoned knights, the banners that flew above his force obscured the large force of infantry that trailed behind his knights but their clattering pole-arms and marching footsteps was loud enough to send even the boldest of forest horrors scurrying back into the nearby darkened woods.
There was no chance of victory for the houses, they knew that talk was the only way to keep what little they had. So the talks concluded the baron made his decision clear, he was not an ambitious man, he only wanted this foolishness to stop and the lands made safe. The feud has left both pass and villages vulnerable to attack and the callously spent lives has brought forth things into the lands that only the baron's boldest knights could put down. He made it clear that the two houses would become one, either under his banner or through the two houses making amends.
They refused to cooperate with eachother, the bad blood had run far too deep. At the end of his patience the baron made to ride back to his army and declare war. He was stopped by a young knight, he begged the baron to hold his hand. The knight was the son of two lesser nobles from both houses that had met under parley. Though they had both passed away from battle and hardship he didn't want the families his parents sacrificed so much for to be cast into oblivion.
The baron thought on this and was moved by the lad's conviction. He put the lad forth on a quest to retrieve a long lost banner that was lost beneath the vaults, this banner once heralded a household that would prove itself a loyal servant of the king's and stand vigil at the pass to guard the innocents that used it. The death of that lord and lose of his banner caused the knights of the house to put blame upon one another for their failure. It would cause a split in the noble household that would become the two known houses of today.
Only this banner could give one the absolute right to make the two houses whole again. The youth went out on his quest to save his lands and honor the memory of his parents.
(Going to end here as I believe I talked enough).
Thanks for all the inspiration to hold my colors high and proud, for king and country!
And so it was, the baron's forces created a large encampment within the boundry of both houses and held their hand for an entire month. The baron's veteran knights and soldiery thought nothing of such a wait for they had fought campaigns and performed drawn out sieges that lasted years. This postponed siege was a boon to the beleaguered countryside. The baron's soldiers patrolled roads long left unguarded and brought a sense of life to the land as bored knights held small tourneys and soldiers, upon escaping their lord's stern gaze, made many wayside inns and brothels know the clinking of coin again.
Things were indeed looking up for this land as many awaited the return of the young knight. However, fell eyes looked upon the houses that, despite being bolstered by the baron's army, would serve as a valuable invasion point once they were conquered. It was during the coldest of nights that the land had ever felt that the lax guards were caught around the throat by silent nooses from the dark and horses drank out of troughs tainted by warpstone.
The Skaven struck out of the night like a assassin's blade. They overran the small garrison forces that guarded the pass, their attack only slowed by the baron's expert bowmen and yeomen who turned the narrowest of paths into killing fields and made any movement into the surrounding forests costly as the soldiers were veterans of past beastmen hunting expeditions. Despite such resistance the Skaven were upon the two house's strongholds and nearly wiped them out over night.
But they found the ragged knights and men-at-arms of the feuding houses a fiercer opponent than expected. The feud had been costly and many a valiant soul had lost his life for a age long strife, but it had culled the forces to where only the most stubborn and battle-hardened knights remained. The houses didn't give way to the overwhelming onslaught, where other warriors would think of home and hearth far away from their fight these warriors thought of precious blood spilt over already blood soaked land and friends and family dying for the near lifeless land beneath their feet.
They had sacrificed so much for this land, not a second thought was given to sacrifice more.
The fortresses were ablaze with warpfire as the Skaven tried to destroy the opposition as quickly as possible. The Bretonnians did not lack for a mobile force that was ever eager to see combat, they needed to conquer and fortify quickly to defend their tenuous foothold. The baron's forces could not give aid as his army was beset by assassins, mutated horses that stampede and consumed flesh as well as rat ogres brought up from tunnels going through ancient crypts though half their vile force disappeared upon entering them, the ancient noble dead did not care for visitors.
As the fortresses were swarmed and the baron's army was hamstrung in the dead of night, a single figure stood upon a rise from the direction of the vaults and looked upon the burning land with despair. He was covered in dirt and his chainmail was torn to pieces, a month of searching the dangerous vaults was almost his end. Only a vision that came upon him in a exhausted sleep showed him the location of the magnificent banner that was raised above his head. His vision was of his late parents walking towards a ordinary looking crag amongst the mountainside within the vaults, they had poored a sparkling water upon the crag and it melted away like dirt off of polished armor.
Upon waking he had searched the area that he saw within his dream but it was no use, the crags looked all alike and he doubt of his vision grew. Then a small wind picked up, the man looked up at the sky and saw rain clouds gather faster than he had thought they could have. A heavy rain was upon him before he knew it. He took cover but watched the area he had searched, he noticed the gathering water upon the ground near the mountain wall never filled into a puddle. He watched the water and saw it flow into a small crevice.
He investigated this tiny opening in the wall and saw that what he took for a solid wall was a long collapsed rock slide that became covered in dirt that made it impossible to discern from the rest of the mountain wall. He got to work sifting the dirt and removing the large stones, he soon saw that a small cavern was hidden by the age worn rocks and dirt. The cavern was a stark contrast to the rest of the vaults on the outside. Where all else was dirt and rock the cavern was filled with greenery and a small lake from water flowing from the outside of the mountain and collected at that point.
In the cavern's back sat the armor covered skeleton of a knight wearing the tabard of long forgotten heraldry, in his arms he held a glorious banner whose very threads seemed to shimmer as the eye looked upon them. Not a bit of dust was upon it nor did time seem to have dulled it's brilliance. As the lad took the banner he thought he saw a pair of smiling faces within the lake at the corner of eye.
Was it worth it? The land he wanted to save was besought by foul creatures and all his trials seemed for nought. What was he suppose to do, did any of it matter? He looked upon the fortresses covered in green flame and vile vermin and felt a bottomless despair fill him. Then he saw it, a ghostly white-clad figure upon the highest tower of a ruined fortress that had been abandoned once the houses split, he recalled that some said it was the original fortress that claimed this land as it's own. He knew what was required of him to see this land to a new dawn.
He took his weary steed and rode towards the ruin, the Skaven were so set upon the other strongholds that their force had a large split in it's middle that gave the knight a path to this ancient bastion. As he made his way to the top of the tower he heard quiet whispering all around him, as if he intruded upon a banquet hall and those present found his appearance surprising. He reached the top were he had saw the strange figure, he planted the banner into the a spot on the floor where the cobblestones were covered in large cracks. As the banner flew in the wind a great ethereal cheer was heard all around him and seemed to spread to the surrounding forest itself.
The spirits throughout the land who watched their descendants kill one another for so long and left their lands to rot were given the chance to finally voice their opinion on the matter. It was a rousing battle cry that froze Skaven hearts and gave men pause. The banner shined with a eldritch glow that seemed to light up the entire night, strongs winds blew around the strongholds that were filled with shouts and cheers for a new dawn and evil to be undone. Warpfires were snuffed out and Skaven were torn from the walls like ragdolls. The defenders wasted no time in taking advantage of this blessing.
Meanwhile, at the baron's camp, the knights slaughtered the assassins with their peerless skill at arms and once done saw the baron cut a path through the vile rat ogres with his blade that was forged by the fey themselves. He rallied his army and lead a massive counterattack against the Skaven. Men-at-arms corralled both Skaven and warped horses and began dousing them with oil from behind their shield wall, the flaming arrows that followed caused a horrific screeching from the beasts that made many invading Skaven turn back. They were met by a army of angered spirits that let none escape.
The baron looked up at a shining light in the sky and saw a fabled banner that he thought was only a exaggeration of storytellers. The banner of crystal hope and of glass dawns, a banner that was handed down from the days of Gilles the Uniter and was blessed by a droplet of the Lady's grail, a gift to a ancient household of heroes.
So it was in time, the houses did unite under the blessed banner and had put their feud to a long deserved rest. The young knight was given the title of Marquis and was tasked with restoring his land to it's former glory. The baron pledged to aid the new lord with this task and in years to come the land saw prosperity and honor once again.
As with all such things in the old world however, this happiness was but a setting stage to a great tragedy. The End Times had come and the noble realm was beset by countless terrors. The civil war that tore at Bretonnia's core was a great trial for all sons and daughters of the fair land. The remade house that guarded the pass of Carcassonne was accustomed to the hideous visage of civil war and fought to prevent it. Their siding with the true king brought the wrath of nearby Carcassonnian nobility upon them however, it seemed Carcassonne was destined to spill it's own proud blood.
With the baron's help the forces of the rebelling duke were held back while the marquis' s main force of knights rode out to do battle with those who would see king and Lady overthrown.
These were dark times without a dawn of hope. Brave knights of Bretonnia would face horrors that few others would dare and perform feats worth a hundred epics for every valiant son and daughter of Bretonnia. With the weakened nation however, despite the return of the glorious Gilles to the throne and king Louen's crusade into the Empire, Bretonnia was destined to fall.
The unguarded pass into Carcassonne would see a tide of vermin none would dare imagine, the hordes of chaos and undeath rode rampant throughout the old world and great bastions of mankind fell to flame and madness. The final battles that marked the end of this magnificent world were legendary, no man asked for quarter and every warrior of a once sane world met his end with the greatest of honor.
So the world had been consumed. Though despite this grandest of tragedies, the sparks of hope still existed. The old world was filled with reality defying oddities, ageless mysteries and souls of those who refused to be cast into oblivion.
Countless millennia were to follow that would see the creation of the mortal realms by the mighty Sigmar. It was during the early years of peace and cultivation of the mortal realms that a strange sight would be seen amongst the realm of Hysh. A glittering light appeared that resembled fractured glass, it spun around as if on a strong wind. As it landed upon the ground the light assembled itself into a long forgotten sight.
A banner that shined like crystal emblazoned with the heraldry of a golden sword and grail upon it.
A noble figure appeared next to this banner. His armor was of a magnificent gold, his flowing cloak was covered in images of a world that had fallen into myth and the crown upon his brow almost surpassed the banner in shining magnificence. He looked upon the banner with his wizened face and placed a single fleur upon it before vanishing into the light of that realm.
The fleur and blessed wood of that banner began to grow at a monumental rate. In the course of a few days they had become a verdant forest, the banner itself was hidden at the center of this small forest. This noble emblem was a beckon to the lost souls that served the light of chivalry and fought for a brighter dawn. It wasn't long before within the forest's shade human forms began to stumble their way out onto a new world.
These people had only the faintest recollection of what they lost, they knew almost nothing of the past and knew absolutely nothing of the future. Like true Bretonnians they focused solely on the present. Soon they began to build their civilization around the forest of brightest dawns, ever letting it grow and finding new arrivals from man to noble steed appear out of it. Soon the small kingdom was built and made contact with the free people of Sigmar's realm.
Despite the following peace found at these times, the people of this kingdom felt that a higher calling was there's to find. They traveled the realms trying to see what called to their very souls. The echos of the lost world called to these people and they began training as proper knights should, the images of chivalrous armored riders and glorious charges was strong in their foggy minds. These knights went throughout the realms searching for their calling, many terrible beasts were met and slain and new lands were discovered and charted but it was never enough.
It was one knight who traveled the realm of Ghur and it's wild lands that found what they longed for.
He heard a voice that was harmony made into words and followed it into a open area of grassy plains. The song seemed to be coming from right infront of him but he couldn't find the source. At wits end to find the beautiful voice's origin, the knight took out his sword and keeled down in thought. The light reflected off the blade revealed what his eyes could not see. A still lake amongst a grove of trees, a slender hand that was covered in fleurs arose out of it. The knight moved to see this better but the image flickered and was gone in a blink. There was a world between worlds, a strange form of terrestrial manifestation that existed as a sliver of light amongst the realms. This was their calling then, to find this world and make it whole once more.
This quest was not to be so easily fulfilled however, the hordes of darkness were once again upon order's doorstep. The kingdom was proud to stand beside the pantheon of order and the free people in beating back the foul slaves of madness. Despite great new deeds to be displayed and told about amongst the kingdom's citadels, the forces of order found itself betrayed and defeated by the forces of chaos.
The kingdom put up a heroic struggle for Hysh but no matter how many of the hordes were trampled under hoof there was always more warriors to take their place. The knights fought to the death and gave no quarter but they knew their time was short. It was at such acts of bravery that the forest of brightest dawns began to glow, the banner's power having been strengthened by the surrounding forest feeding it the power of that realm. During the great battle between the kingdom and chaos a ear-splitting crack was heard.
The surrounding land that was claimed by the kingdom tore apart into a hurricane of lights, the warriors of chaos were shredded as if by a sea of glass. Of the kingdom and it's knights nothing remained...
The kingdom was gone but the kingdom of Verre was about to be born.
(Phew..... thanks for reading all of that. More to come in the future. The following is some custom warscrolls I made up for my army. )
Lord of the Realm.
Fluff:
During the kingdom's creation there were knights who traveled throughout the realms to find fame, fortune and glory. Those that performed great deeds and earned the people's respect went off fo create their own estates. Some of these rivaled the kingdom's size while others rivaled it's authority... [/I]
WIP, I'm open to suggestions on what these lads should be focused on. I'm thinking something of being Bretonnian lords that are more about supporting the free people due to them being more independent rulers.
Vagrant knight.
Fluff:[I] knights who have fallen from grace and have sworn oaths to find the lost world or never rise back to their honored positions again. Their constant questing and isolation from civilization have made them hardened individuals. Despite this, they have a rare connection to the threads of the lost world and are able to find one another when the need is dire
Move-5, wounds-1, Bravery-7, Save ward-5+. Weapons: Exiled sword- 2 attacks, 3+ hit, 4+ wound, 1 damage
Mace- 2 attacks, 4+ hit, 4+ wound, -1 rend, 1 damage
Champion, trumpet, drummer, relic bearer Greatsword- 1 attack, 3+ hit, 3+ wound, -1 rend, 1 damage
standard bearer- re-roll bravery tests when charging.
Tattered herald shield- re-roll rolls of 1 on your saving ward if you charged.
Joke ability- if you're near a campfire(model counts) and say "prepare to die" when attacked by undead units in close combat, you may re-roll failed ward saves.
Keywords: Human, Order, Free people, Nobility, Seekers
Knights of the flame.
Fluff:
When the brave knight, Sir Aludrast of the burning plains, defeated the titanic lava golem he discovered it guarded a shard of the lost world. The power of this shard gave the knight armor that was forged of the fires of war and the smoldering smoke of the dead golem was given life as steeds for the knight and his realm.
Same stats and keywords as the knight of the realm unit with the following exceptions.
Massed cavalry charge exchanged for Blazing aura- if 10 or more knights are in the unit then enemies in close combat re-roll rolls on 6 when rolling to hit.
Heraldic shield exchanged for Steed of Smoke- ignore deadly terrain when running or charging.
Seekers of the lost.
Fluff:
Sages who have communed with the forest of brightest dawns to better understand the lost world. They have a better understanding of that eldritch world than most and can tenuously call upon it's powers to aid them in their journeys. Though it appears their thoughts are fragmented by their understanding of the lost world, they see the world like looking through shattered glass.
Move- 5. Can rides a purebred warhorse. Weapon: 2 attacks, 4+ hit, 3+ wound, damage 2
Wounds- 5
Save- 6+
Bravery-6
Aura of the lost-can be cast on units with keywords Seeker and Questing knight within 6", roll a D3 and add the amount to the unit's total bravery until your next magic phase.
Magic: arcane bolt, mystic ward, Call of the Journey- casting value of 6, cast on a unit with Seeker, Questing knight in their keywords within 12", unit can re-roll their lowest number die on their roll to run. If cast on a Hero then the model can switch places with the sage.
Keywords: Human, Order, Hero, Wizard, Free people, Seeker.
Glad I finished this and I look forward to hearing what you lads think.
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