The Round Table of Bretonnia - Pierre La Or. The knighting of Jean.

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.

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…

It did not take long for the Carrnon to let them in and already they had a feast waiting for them. Jean had notified them of his coming and they wanted to treat him good. He was their adopted son until Pierre took him for a squire. Pierre did not really get to know the Carrnon before. Pierre found Jean in his travels. Jean was escorting a caravan of goods to a fief on the outskirts of Mousillion, and Pierre offered him to be of service as squire after he saw the boy take out half a dozen orcs single handed. Jean wrote to the Carrnon and they gave him permission.

The peasant man at arm led them through the castle and into the great dinning hall. It was about fifteen feet tall and about the same wide. It was very elegant. On each wall two blue banners were hanged on each side with the family’s coat of arms. It was a raptor’s claw, painted yellow on blue background. On the eastern and western walls two large glass windows were built in with the Lady painted on the western and the eastern a knight clad in blue tunic and armour, kneeling in prayer, his sword plunged on the earth and holding it tight. His helmet was removed and on the side. Pierre tried to make out what he could of the glass face. He appeared Brettonian with a hooked nose and full features. He had short blonde hair and a square chin. Pierre guessed that he was the founder of the Carrnon family. The torches on the stone walls made the hall seem like day and Jean offered Pierre a seat. “Ill go and see what’s taking them so long” he said to his master. Pierre grabbed Jean’s hand and made him sit down.” That is a job of a peasant. You are a knight Errant. Know your place.” He said and called for a peasant. Soon one arrived and bowed to him. “Get me the master of this place. He may have admitted me to his hall but he has not welcomed me here yet and that makes me irritated.” He said in a demanding, slightly loud voice. The servant ran off to find his master. “Mindless mortals” Jean could hear his master say as he let out a sigh. The Errant knew that his master did not need to breath but did so anyway. “To smell any ambushes in the air” he once told his squire. The servant returned and with him came Sir Carrnon dressed in long blue robes, lined with fox fur and gold threats. He was in his early fifties and his face was square with fat cheeks and a strong, hardens, wrinkled outlook. His hair was cut short and his blue eyes looked vibrant. He was a merchant. Pierre did not need to see the expensive gold rings on his fingers to understand it. He was not a knight. He did not have the weary of war. ‘I am sorry if I kept you waiting Lord Knight Pierre but you see my servanst are….’ He started in a deep voice but Pierre cut in. “You were late because you willed it. Not because you peasants were incompetent. Do not lie to me.”. Carrnon stared at his with a confusing look but after a while turned his gaze on Jean. “Jean my dear child” he said loudly and moved to him and embraced him. Jean was considerably taller than the noble but returned the embrace warmly. “Look at you all grown up. A knight Errant. Why I never thought I would see the day. How old are you now boy? He said and sat at one end of the wooden table on the centre of the hall. “ Em… I’ve seen winter 22 times now Sir” Jean replied and sat down next to his master when Carrnon gestured that he should take a seat. “And you serve under Sir La Or now?” he asked. “That’s right.” Pierre replied.” He is my squire and apprentice and I travel around with him on his adventures till I consider him responsible enough to become a knight of the realm.” Carrnon nodded. “And am I to understand that you will knight him? “ Carnnon asked. Pierre nodded. Their talk was interrupted when a servant announced the entrance of Carrnon’s wife and daughters. Carrnon’s wife, Lady Lucienta, made the first entranced and the daughters followed. The wife and the oldest daughter looked like identical twins although the Lucienta looked like an older version of her daughter. They both had a round face and full rosy cheeks, with large eyes, their colour a dazzling hazelnut and elegant eyebrows. All the men stood up and the daughter introduced herself as Marie. She looked around her mid-twenty’s with some excess weight and an untrained body and long blonde hair up to the shoulder plates. Obviously she was a spoiled child. The second daughter however, who introduced herself as Isabel, was a miracle of beauty. She has a tall, slender, fit and well-preserved body with nice curves, which Pierre was sure were not justified by the gown she wore, and an angelic face, with shallow cheekbones and a gaunt face. Her eyes were turquoise and her lips were small but full and red. She had long black to silver hair which reached up the middle of her back. She was Jean’s love and Pierre now understood why Jean was so obsessed with her. She was truly a sight to behold but Pierre knew that what needed to be should be done…

The banquet was well underway by the twenty second hour of the day. Pierre observed and listened to the talk Jean had with the Carrnon and mostly with Isabel. They would talk of the most pointless events as if they were the grand ball at the King’s castle and would even dare stare on each other’s eyes when Carrnon was not paying attention. Everyone was enjoying their main course when the conversation finally turned to Pierre himself. “Tell us, Sir La Or, why the black armour? The only knights I know that bear the blackened armour are the ones of Mousillion but from what I gathered by the hilt of your sword you hail from Carcasson! Surely a tale is aloft on why the black armour is worn?” Carrnon questioned. Pierre pretended to wipe food from his mouth with a handkerchief and in his mind made a mental note to be on guard of this man’s perception. “This armour was created on a pack I made with my other questing companions when twelve, of the eighteen we were, perished in a battle against a Chaos war band. The rest were to bear this black armour as a mark of grief for the lives of our companions lost. . “ he said and stood up, removing his travelling cloak and revealing the armour in all its glorious detail. Silver dragons sprang from the shoulders, insignia and inscriptions made out of silver were curved on it and the names of the fallen of the back plate. He then wore the cloak again and took a seat. “It was fashioned by the Fae themselves.” He said to Carrnon. Jan knew that to be a lie. He knew for a fact that the armour Pierre bore was blackened by Pierre himself and was blessed in blood and the Dark Lady’s praises. “The Fae you say? They say they are immortal. Have you ever meet them?” Lady Carrnon enquired. Pierre smiled; “No, I haven’t meet any of the fey. But I know that they not immortal. They get pierced by a lance as easily as a human. “Pierre said and leaned in closer to the table. “Vampires, now those are immortal” he said whispering in a mystical tone. Lord Carrnon simply scoffed but Lady Carrnon seemed fascinated and leaned in. “Have you ever met any vampires Sir Lord La Or?” Lady Carrnon asked. Pierre smiled and Jran looked around nervously. “Yes my dear lady. I have fought such a creature and bested it into combat. It was one of the hardest battles I fought. “Pierre said and paused. “And let me tell you something about vampires. The one I faced was as noble and honourable as I was” He said. Deep inside Pierre’s human part still screamed in horror of what he was about to do. Yet he knew that this was the only way for Jran to be knighted. Severing every link to their humanity and past was something Pierre did with all his children. Carrnon sighed “Vampires are not noble. Vampires are beasts. No matter how much they try to hide behind our rules of chivalry and their supposed nobility, they are nothing but vile parasites feeding on humanity. How do you even dare such a thing Grail Knight?” he said, stressing the word Grail as on an insult. Pierre stood up with flames in his eyes. He made for the hilt of his sword. eJan pushed his chair back and stood up in an attempt to reason with his master. He knew his master was easy to insult and knew that Lord Carrnon was in deep trouble. “Master….” Jean started but was interrupted by a strong slap on the cheek as Pierre slapped Jean to the ground and drew his sword. It was ancient, magical. Everyone felt it. Made out of pure silver and bearing inscriptions of ages past it vibrated in a bloody red colour. Jean tried to crawl up from the cobblestone ground but instead started coughing and spit blood. Isabel dashed to him as Pierre made way to Lord Carrnon himself. “What do I know about vampires you ask?” he said in a deep hissing tone, tilting his head from side to side and he steadily walked to Lord Carrnon who stood there petrified, shocked. “Why, I am one!” Pierre said and let out a cold dark laughter that filled the chamber and made Lady Carrnon and her daughter Marrie rush for the hall’s exit, screaming for guards. But Pierre had other plans. He pulled his cape and revealed his true identity. His red tunic was shown and the inscription on his armour and the gruesome dragon on his helmet, which at that moment was hanging from his belt above his left thigh, revealed what he truly was. But that was not enough. With a move Pierre magically closed the doors shut and came face to face with Lord Carrnon. He lowered his sword as Carrnon was breathing heavily and fast, clearly in a shock and Pierre came into eye contact. “ My virtue of chivalry is mixed with blood, beasts and darkness but it is more certainly upheld” he said while staring at Lord Carrnon and with a sudden violent attack, bit and tore Lord Carrnon’s neck open. He left Carrnon to chock on his own blood as he fell down, splattering the floor with blood. Pierre sheathed his sword and silently turned around to face the two women banging on the hall’s wooden doors screaming for help. “There there now. They breed you well I see. Like they fatten the swine before they take them to the slaughterhouse to be butchered for the next day’s festival” he uttered a look of complete madness and frenzy in his eyes. He silently walked near them and enthralled them with a look. “It is of my oath never to hurt a damsel. And certainly not one who is in distress. But look at you! You disgust me. Pathetic overbreed nobility that doesn’t know where it’s true place lies. Now perish” he commanded and tore Lady Marie open with his sword that he unsheathed in a split second. “So you want to be immortal?” he asked as he turned his attention on Lady Lucienta. “P…Please…Please don’t hurt me…I will give you everything you want…’she said in a panicked look while looking around in a way of escape. There was no where to go. She knew that the monster had her cornered. “ Give me anything I want? My fair Lady there is nothing I would want from you….Apart from your blood” he said and with a swift move sunk his teeth on Lady Lucienta’s neck, sucking and smearing himself with blood. When he finally let go she dropped on the floor empty. Pierre then made a swift move and jumped on the table, and sat on the table opposite of Jean and Isabel and watched as Isabel tried to tend to Jean. “Ahh foolish young love. “he said with a mocking look on his face as Isabel faced him. She was kneeling over Jean and bend over and drew his sword.” I shall curve a hole in you. Foul liche” she said determined. “ Now now. That is no way for a lady to behave” he said. Isabel dashed to Pierre and made for his head in one mighty blow, screaming as she went. Pierre grabbed the sword with his palm and with a strong move made Isabel loosen her grip on it and tossed the sword across the room to the other side. He then grabbed both Isabel arms and forced her to sit next to him. She was struggling but against the strength of an ancient undead beast such as Pierre she had no hope. “Feisty little lady isn’t she Jean?” she asked. Jean turned to face him whilst lying on the floor. ”Why are you doing all this?”Jean screamed and spit more blood. Pierre’s face softened. He looked at his squire knight in ponder. “Why my dear Jean?” he asked back as he brought Isabel’s arms on his face, placing her soft wrists on his mouth.” The Dark Lady decided that it is time you are knighted. She wanted me to sever all you human links to the past. My dear Jean this is a new era for you.” he said coldly. He stood up, removed his belt from his tunic and tied Isabel’s hands to the foot of the table. He then approached Jean and said. “ I hereby knight you. You shall be for now on be known as Sir Jan La Or. Knight of the Realm of the Barony of the La Or in Moussilion. Arise now Sir Jan and become a creature of the night. “ Pierre grinned and bit Jean. Darkness then engulfed Jan.

About ten minutes passed and Pierre was sitting on a chair next to a tight-up Isabel looking at Jean corpse. Pierre was holding on a silver goblet and was toying around with it. He had given Jean the Dark Kiss and now he waited for his knight to rise. He ignored Isabel’s screams and made short work of the ten peasant men at arms that managed to break in the hall. Now he waited. He waited for perhaps his most promising knight so far to rise and rule beside him. Perhaps he would one day search the grail, seeking to unlock more vampiric powers, to learn the secrets of his blood. Yet he still did not rise and Pierre grew concerned. Had he grown too old to create new vampires? He got up and starting walking around the hall. Isabel was silent for the first time. She breathed in quickly and spoke “What have you done to Jean? Why are you doing this?” she asked as tears filled her eyes. Pierre looked around to face her. “ Do you have any idea what it’s like to be immortal, powerful but never being able to experience the notions of life? “ Pierre asked as he walked towards Lady Lucienta’s corpse. Isabel tried to speak but Pierre hushed her. “Only with chivalry I found a cause in my unlife. I was cursed and wondered the lands of Brettonia a cursed knight for many years, challenging knights to put me to peace but defeating every single one.” Pierre continued as he expanded his arms over Lady Lucienta’s corpse and slowly reanimated her dead body. Isabel’s eyes widen in terror and she screamed to see her mother turned to a zombie. “My bloodline never really practises the necromantic arts but some fun every once in a while never hurt even the most strict knight”Pierre continued as he started waltzing around the hall with the zombie Lucienta. Isabel simply ran out of tears and voice and stood there petrified. As the waltzing continued, Pierre reached a sharp halt and the corpse fell on the floor, lifeless as before. Pierre then suddenly turned to Isabel with blood tears on his cheeks. “DO YOU THINK I CHOSE THIS? I WAS TRICKED BY THE DARK LADY, CURSED BE HER NAME. I DRANK FROM A BLOOD GRAIL AND WAS CURSED.” Pierre screamed as his jaw was dislocated and his canines grew an enormous size. Suddenly Pierre eyes gleamed with blood and he silently murmured some comforting words, that Isabel could not make out, to himself. His face returned to normal and stared at Isabel. “Ahh the insanity. It comes and goes. A gift of ages” he whispered and turned to his dead squire. He was taking to long to be reanimated. He feared for the worst.

All his worries though brushed aside as he saw Jean rise up. “What happened?” he enquired. “You were knighted Jean. You are no longer my squire. Now….feed!” he said and pointed to Isabel. She screamed and begged Jean to remember their love but Jean was grinning evilly. “You are no longer my lover. Nothing but mere cattle” he said and bit her and began drinking deep. Pierre grinned and exposed his canines. He growled into the night and thousands of bats shattered the glass windows, flapping their wings and screeching as they encircled the knights. Jean looked up and shook as if he woke up from hypnosis. He looked at Isabel’s dead body. He was hungry and he killed his love in return for blood. He had frenzied. Jean kneeled over Isabel’s body, devastated by what he had done. He started crying and looked at his master who directed the bats outside once more. Moments later and peasant screams broke the silent night. Jean kept staring at his master. ”Why?” was the only thing he managed to get out of his sobbing mouth. Pierre closed in his knight. “ It was a necessity Jan. You have to understand that you have to suffer before turning into a real knight. Your trials have just begun. You are now a vampire and a lord over a fiefdom. Rule your people fair and weep over this lost love for eternity. “ Pierre said and help his knight get up. “Take revenge on those whose chivalry is not pure. Take the hatred out on your opponents. Make them fear you and who knows? Maybe one day you might get a sip of the Blood Grail.” Pierre said and gently guided his knight outside the castle. They both stood on the battle lines, watching the carnage Pierre’s bats caused. Pierre glanced into the dark veil of the night. “Enjoy this time of the day Jean for it is your destiny. Together we shall rule over a Brettonia cursed, feared and doomed. Together we shall be kings. But we must take one bite at a time. First Moussilion has to be ours. Are you with me?” Pierre asked and turned to his knight. Jan drew his sword, kneeled in front of his lord, holding the sword horizontally towards Pierre. “ I am at your service. Another reason for Brettonian wives to mourn. My sword, lance and fief are yours my master.”Jean said. Pierre stared at his knight. “And the night is ours my knight. Arise now. For your knighthood is completed.” Pierre said and they both roared into the night, two blood knights cursed for eternity.

Back in Moussillion in a large dinning room, twenty knights with black armour and blood red tunics drank from silver goblets. The goblets were filled blood. Suddenly the head of the table stood up and silence filled the room. “My fellow blood knights, I have sensed it. Master has given him the Dark Kiss. All raise your goblets to this newest family member. “He proposed and raised his goblet into the air. All the other knights stood up and raised their goblets and roared “For the Dark Lady and the Chivalrous dead” as they drank from blood.

Written by Sir Pierre La Or
Monday, 25 February 2008
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… It did not take long for the Carrnon to let them in and already they had a feast waiting for them. Jean had notified them of his coming and they wanted to treat him good. He was their adopted son until Pierre took him for a squire. Pierre did not really get to know the Carrnon before. Pierre found Jean in his travels. Jean was escorting a caravan of goods to a fief on the outskirts of Mousillion, and Pierre offered him to be of service as squire after he saw the boy take out half a dozen orcs single handed. Jean wrote to the Carrnon and they gave him permission. The peasant man at arm led them through the castle and into the great dinning hall. It was about fifteen feet tall and about the same wide. It was very elegant. On each wall two blue banners were hanged on each side with the family’s coat of arms. It was a raptor’s claw, painted yellow on blue background. On the eastern and western walls two large glass windows were built in with the Lady painted on the western and the eastern a knight clad in blue tunic and armour, kneeling in prayer, his sword plunged on the earth and holding it tight. His helmet was removed and on the side. Pierre tried to make out what he could of the glass face. He appeared Brettonian with a hooked nose and full features. He had short blonde hair and a square chin. Pierre guessed that he was the founder of the Carrnon family. The torches on the stone walls made the hall seem like day and Jean offered Pierre a seat. “Ill go and see what’s taking them so long” he said to his master. Pierre grabbed Jean’s hand and made him sit down.” That is a job of a peasant. You are a knight Errant. Know your place.” He said and called for a peasant. Soon one arrived and bowed to him. “Get me the master of this place. He may have admitted me to his hall but he has not welcomed me here yet and that makes me irritated.” He said in a demanding, slightly loud voice. The servant ran off to find his master. “Mindless mortals” Jean could hear his master say as he let out a sigh. The Errant knew that his master did not need to breath but did so anyway. “To smell any ambushes in the air” he once told his squire. The servant returned and with him came Sir Carrnon dressed in long blue robes, lined with fox fur and gold threats. He was in his early fifties and his face was square with fat cheeks and a strong, hardens, wrinkled outlook. His hair was cut short and his blue eyes looked vibrant. He was a merchant. Pierre did not need to see the expensive gold rings on his fingers to understand it. He was not a knight. He did not have the weary of war. ‘I am sorry if I kept you waiting Lord Knight Pierre but you see my servanst are….’ He started in a deep voice but Pierre cut in. “You were late because you willed it. Not because you peasants were incompetent. Do not lie to me.”. Carrnon stared at his with a confusing look but after a while turned his gaze on Jean. “Jean my dear child” he said loudly and moved to him and embraced him. Jean was considerably taller than the noble but returned the embrace warmly. “Look at you all grown up. A knight Errant. Why I never thought I would see the day. How old are you now boy? He said and sat at one end of the wooden table on the centre of the hall. “ Em… I’ve seen winter 22 times now Sir” Jean replied and sat down next to his master when Carrnon gestured that he should take a seat. “And you serve under Sir La Or now?” he asked. “That’s right.” Pierre replied.” He is my squire and apprentice and I travel around with him on his adventures till I consider him responsible enough to become a knight of the realm.” Carrnon nodded. “And am I to understand that you will knight him? “ Carnnon asked. Pierre nodded. Their talk was interrupted when a servant announced the entrance of Carrnon’s wife and daughters. Carrnon’s wife, Lady Lucienta, made the first entranced and the daughters followed. The wife and the oldest daughter looked like identical twins although the Lucienta looked like an older version of her daughter. They both had a round face and full rosy cheeks, with large eyes, their colour a dazzling hazelnut and elegant eyebrows. All the men stood up and the daughter introduced herself as Marie. She looked around her mid-twenty’s with some excess weight and an untrained body and long blonde hair up to the shoulder plates. Obviously she was a spoiled child. The second daughter however, who introduced herself as Isabel, was a miracle of beauty. She has a tall, slender, fit and well-preserved body with nice curves, which Pierre was sure were not justified by the gown she wore, and an angelic face, with shallow cheekbones and a gaunt face. Her eyes were turquoise and her lips were small but full and red. She had long black to silver hair which reached up the middle of her back. She was Jean’s love and Pierre now understood why Jean was so obsessed with her. She was truly a sight to behold but Pierre knew that what needed to be should be done… The banquet was well underway by the twenty second hour of the day. Pierre observed and listened to the talk Jean had with the Carrnon and mostly with Isabel. They would talk of the most pointless events as if they were the grand ball at the King’s castle and would even dare stare on each other’s eyes when Carrnon was not paying attention. Everyone was enjoying their main course when the conversation finally turned to Pierre himself. “Tell us, Sir La Or, why the black armour? The only knights I know that bear the blackened armour are the ones of Mousillion but from what I gathered by the hilt of your sword you hail from Carcasson! Surely a tale is aloft on why the black armour is worn?” Carrnon questioned. Pierre pretended to wipe food from his mouth with a handkerchief and in his mind made a mental note to be on guard of this man’s perception. “This armour was created on a pack I made with my other questing companions when twelve, of the eighteen we were, perished in a battle against a Chaos war band. The rest were to bear this black armour as a mark of grief for the lives of our companions lost. . “ he said and stood up, removing his travelling cloak and revealing the armour in all its glorious detail. Silver dragons sprang from the shoulders, insignia and inscriptions made out of silver were curved on it and the names of the fallen of the back plate. He then wore the cloak again and took a seat. “It was fashioned by the Fae themselves.” He said to Carrnon. Jan knew that to be a lie. He knew for a fact that the armour Pierre bore was blackened by Pierre himself and was blessed in blood and the Dark Lady’s praises. “The Fae you say? They say they are immortal. Have you ever meet them?” Lady Carrnon enquired. Pierre smiled; “No, I haven’t meet any of the fey. But I know that they not immortal. They get pierced by a lance as easily as a human. “Pierre said and leaned in closer to the table. “Vampires, now those are immortal” he said whispering in a mystical tone. Lord Carrnon simply scoffed but Lady Carrnon seemed fascinated and leaned in. “Have you ever met any vampires Sir Lord La Or?” Lady Carrnon asked. Pierre smiled and Jran looked around nervously. “Yes my dear lady. I have fought such a creature and bested it into combat. It was one of the hardest battles I fought. “Pierre said and paused. “And let me tell you something about vampires. The one I faced was as noble and honourable as I was” He said. Deep inside Pierre’s human part still screamed in horror of what he was about to do. Yet he knew that this was the only way for Jran to be knighted. Severing every link to their humanity and past was something Pierre did with all his children. Carrnon sighed “Vampires are not noble. Vampires are beasts. No matter how much they try to hide behind our rules of chivalry and their supposed nobility, they are nothing but vile parasites feeding on humanity. How do you even dare such a thing Grail Knight?” he said, stressing the word Grail as on an insult. Pierre stood up with flames in his eyes. He made for the hilt of his sword. eJan pushed his chair back and stood up in an attempt to reason with his master. He knew his master was easy to insult and knew that Lord Carrnon was in deep trouble. “Master….” Jean started but was interrupted by a strong slap on the cheek as Pierre slapped Jean to the ground and drew his sword. It was ancient, magical. Everyone felt it. Made out of pure silver and bearing inscriptions of ages past it vibrated in a bloody red colour. Jean tried to crawl up from the cobblestone ground but instead started coughing and spit blood. Isabel dashed to him as Pierre made way to Lord Carrnon himself. “What do I know about vampires you ask?” he said in a deep hissing tone, tilting his head from side to side and he steadily walked to Lord Carrnon who stood there petrified, shocked. “Why, I am one!” Pierre said and let out a cold dark laughter that filled the chamber and made Lady Carrnon and her daughter Marrie rush for the hall’s exit, screaming for guards. But Pierre had other plans. He pulled his cape and revealed his true identity. His red tunic was shown and the inscription on his armour and the gruesome dragon on his helmet, which at that moment was hanging from his belt above his left thigh, revealed what he truly was. But that was not enough. With a move Pierre magically closed the doors shut and came face to face with Lord Carrnon. He lowered his sword as Carrnon was breathing heavily and fast, clearly in a shock and Pierre came into eye contact. “ My virtue of chivalry is mixed with blood, beasts and darkness but it is more certainly upheld” he said while staring at Lord Carrnon and with a sudden violent attack, bit and tore Lord Carrnon’s neck open. He left Carrnon to chock on his own blood as he fell down, splattering the floor with blood. Pierre sheathed his sword and silently turned around to face the two women banging on the hall’s wooden doors screaming for help. “There there now. They breed you well I see. Like they fatten the swine before they take them to the slaughterhouse to be butchered for the next day’s festival” he uttered a look of complete madness and frenzy in his eyes. He silently walked near them and enthralled them with a look. “It is of my oath never to hurt a damsel. And certainly not one who is in distress. But look at you! You disgust me. Pathetic overbreed nobility that doesn’t know where it’s true place lies. Now perish” he commanded and tore Lady Marie open with his sword that he unsheathed in a split second. “So you want to be immortal?” he asked as he turned his attention on Lady Lucienta. “P…Please…Please don’t hurt me…I will give you everything you want…’she said in a panicked look while looking around in a way of escape. There was no where to go. She knew that the monster had her cornered. “ Give me anything I want? My fair Lady there is nothing I would want from you….Apart from your blood” he said and with a swift move sunk his teeth on Lady Lucienta’s neck, sucking and smearing himself with blood. When he finally let go she dropped on the floor empty. Pierre then made a swift move and jumped on the table, and sat on the table opposite of Jean and Isabel and watched as Isabel tried to tend to Jean. “Ahh foolish young love. “he said with a mocking look on his face as Isabel faced him. She was kneeling over Jean and bend over and drew his sword.” I shall curve a hole in you. Foul liche” she said determined. “ Now now. That is no way for a lady to behave” he said. Isabel dashed to Pierre and made for his head in one mighty blow, screaming as she went. Pierre grabbed the sword with his palm and with a strong move made Isabel loosen her grip on it and tossed the sword across the room to the other side. He then grabbed both Isabel arms and forced her to sit next to him. She was struggling but against the strength of an ancient undead beast such as Pierre she had no hope. “Feisty little lady isn’t she Jean?” she asked. Jean turned to face him whilst lying on the floor. ”Why are you doing all this?”Jean screamed and spit more blood. Pierre’s face softened. He looked at his squire knight in ponder. “Why my dear Jean?” he asked back as he brought Isabel’s arms on his face, placing her soft wrists on his mouth.” The Dark Lady decided that it is time you are knighted. She wanted me to sever all you human links to the past. My dear Jean this is a new era for you.” he said coldly. He stood up, removed his belt from his tunic and tied Isabel’s hands to the foot of the table. He then approached Jean and said. “ I hereby knight you. You shall be for now on be known as Sir Jan La Or. Knight of the Realm of the Barony of the La Or in Moussilion. Arise now Sir Jan and become a creature of the night. “ Pierre grinned and bit Jean. Darkness then engulfed Jan. About ten minutes passed and Pierre was sitting on a chair next to a tight-up Isabel looking at Jean corpse. Pierre was holding on a silver goblet and was toying around with it. He had given Jean the Dark Kiss and now he waited for his knight to rise. He ignored Isabel’s screams and made short work of the ten peasant men at arms that managed to break in the hall. Now he waited. He waited for perhaps his most promising knight so far to rise and rule beside him. Perhaps he would one day search the grail, seeking to unlock more vampiric powers, to learn the secrets of his blood. Yet he still did not rise and Pierre grew concerned. Had he grown too old to create new vampires? He got up and starting walking around the hall. Isabel was silent for the first time. She breathed in quickly and spoke “What have you done to Jean? Why are you doing this?” she asked as tears filled her eyes. Pierre looked around to face her. “ Do you have any idea what it’s like to be immortal, powerful but never being able to experience the notions of life? “ Pierre asked as he walked towards Lady Lucienta’s corpse. Isabel tried to speak but Pierre hushed her. “Only with chivalry I found a cause in my unlife. I was cursed and wondered the lands of Brettonia a cursed knight for many years, challenging knights to put me to peace but defeating every single one.” Pierre continued as he expanded his arms over Lady Lucienta’s corpse and slowly reanimated her dead body. Isabel’s eyes widen in terror and she screamed to see her mother turned to a zombie. “My bloodline never really practises the necromantic arts but some fun every once in a while never hurt even the most strict knight”Pierre continued as he started waltzing around the hall with the zombie Lucienta. Isabel simply ran out of tears and voice and stood there petrified. As the waltzing continued, Pierre reached a sharp halt and the corpse fell on the floor, lifeless as before. Pierre then suddenly turned to Isabel with blood tears on his cheeks. “DO YOU THINK I CHOSE THIS? I WAS TRICKED BY THE DARK LADY, CURSED BE HER NAME. I DRANK FROM A BLOOD GRAIL AND WAS CURSED.” Pierre screamed as his jaw was dislocated and his canines grew an enormous size. Suddenly Pierre eyes gleamed with blood and he silently murmured some comforting words, that Isabel could not make out, to himself. His face returned to normal and stared at Isabel. “Ahh the insanity. It comes and goes. A gift of ages” he whispered and turned to his dead squire. He was taking to long to be reanimated. He feared for the worst. All his worries though brushed aside as he saw Jean rise up. “What happened?” he enquired. “You were knighted Jean. You are no longer my squire. Now….feed!” he said and pointed to Isabel. She screamed and begged Jean to remember their love but Jean was grinning evilly. “You are no longer my lover. Nothing but mere cattle” he said and bit her and began drinking deep. Pierre grinned and exposed his canines. He growled into the night and thousands of bats shattered the glass windows, flapping their wings and screeching as they encircled the knights. Jean looked up and shook as if he woke up from hypnosis. He looked at Isabel’s dead body. He was hungry and he killed his love in return for blood. He had frenzied. Jean kneeled over Isabel’s body, devastated by what he had done. He started crying and looked at his master who directed the bats outside once more. Moments later and peasant screams broke the silent night. Jean kept staring at his master. ”Why?” was the only thing he managed to get out of his sobbing mouth. Pierre closed in his knight. “ It was a necessity Jan. You have to understand that you have to suffer before turning into a real knight. Your trials have just begun. You are now a vampire and a lord over a fiefdom. Rule your people fair and weep over this lost love for eternity. “ Pierre said and help his knight get up. “Take revenge on those whose chivalry is not pure. Take the hatred out on your opponents. Make them fear you and who knows? Maybe one day you might get a sip of the Blood Grail.” Pierre said and gently guided his knight outside the castle. They both stood on the battle lines, watching the carnage Pierre’s bats caused. Pierre glanced into the dark veil of the night. “Enjoy this time of the day Jean for it is your destiny. Together we shall rule over a Brettonia cursed, feared and doomed. Together we shall be kings. But we must take one bite at a time. First Moussilion has to be ours. Are you with me?” Pierre asked and turned to his knight. Jan drew his sword, kneeled in front of his lord, holding the sword horizontally towards Pierre. “ I am at your service. Another reason for Brettonian wives to mourn. My sword, lance and fief are yours my master.”Jean said. Pierre stared at his knight. “And the night is ours my knight. Arise now. For your knighthood is completed.” Pierre said and they both roared into the night, two blood knights cursed for eternity. Back in Moussillion in a large dinning room, twenty knights with black armour and blood red tunics drank from silver goblets. The goblets were filled blood. Suddenly the head of the table stood up and silence filled the room. “My fellow blood knights, I have sensed it. Master has given him the Dark Kiss. All raise your goblets to this newest family member. “He proposed and raised his goblet into the air. All the other knights stood up and raised their goblets and roared “For the Dark Lady and the Chivalrous dead” as they drank from blood.
Last Updated ( Tuesday, 26 February 2008 )