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Thread: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

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    Sanguinary Guardian's Avatar Primicerius
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    Default Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Hello folks! After the Teutonic Order's valiant stand against the hellspawn (read my previous FF, please), I have returned with a new work in Fan Fiction, one far longer and more encompassing, centered around the Holy Order of the Pale Knight and co-staring the not so honourable Bons Chevaliers.

    So, without further ado, here is the introduction.
    Introduction: My life for yours...
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    The ship sailed indolently through the moorage that formed the port of Castle Elagnon, in the dead of the night. Its sails were blue, bearing the golden seahorse, crest of the powerful and noble family Châtillon.

    House Châtillon was one of the most ancient and revered Houses in the Royaume de Bons Chevaliers, and one of the first to swear loyalty to the new Meravangi King. For their loyalty and wisdom, as well as their naval power, they were given the fief of Elagnon, and its large port, to provide the newly crowned sovereign with the fleet he required.

    It wasn’t a mighty warship, nor a luxury galley that sailed the black waters of the moorage, just an average blockade runner, with the house crest on its sails.

    A hooded man with a deep blue cloak stood on the stern of the ship, right behind the helmsman, deep in thought, his left gauntleted hand resting on an ornate bastard sword in his left hip, while the other scratched his chin, shrouded as it was by the hood in his head. His stature, and stance betrayed an air of nobility that only one of the noblesse d'épée, the « sword nobles » of the Royaume de Bons Chevaliers could have.

    A light breeze started to flip the cloak of the man. The ship’s Captain came to stand next to the noble, facing him, hands clasped behind his ramrod-straight back. ‘Mon seigneur, it seems that God himself favours your choice to undertake the Pilgrimage in Syrianna. The wind is on our side! If only it strengthens a bit and persists, we will have an ideal start to our journey to Bae-Acre.’ For a moment, an awkward silence fell. The breeze slowly but steadily turned to a wind, that propelled the ship far away from the moorage faster than ever. The noble removed the hood and turned to face the Captain, as his brown hair flipped to the wind. ‘See Captain Giscard? God wants me as far away from here as possible and as quickly as possible.’ he said in a bitter voice.
    ‘Mon seigneur’, answered the Captain, and turned to leave his side.

    As the Captain returned to his post, the noble put his hood back on. Noone, save God himself could see the tears that started to flood his cheeks in steady silver streams.


    ------.------



    I am a man broken. I have nothing left, but my life. It is all I can offer, all that I will offer. Perhaps it was the will of God that things turned they way they did. Perhaps, he punishes me, for a sin, a slight that I committed and I never understood. If that is indeed the case, then God is merciless and no God at all. But no, it was my faults that led me to this fate. Exiled, sent to die in sojourn in a far away land alone, unsung and unremembered.


    I am Gérard Châtillon, once firstborn son to Alderic Châtillon, and heir to Chateau Elagnon. Now I am nothing.

    As my homeland steadily vanishes from my tear-filled eyes, as my future melts away like the snow in spring, and as my dreams turn to ash in my mouth, there is only one person that I can think. Alexandrine. I still love you, even after what you did to me, even after you betrayed me to be with him. Your life soars in heavens, as mine is about to crumble in the desert sands. You tore my heart out, yet still, for you, I….I….My life, for yours.

    Interlude I: The Weapons-Master
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Days passed, as the blockade runner raced to Bae Acre, the prime port of the Kingdom of Heaven, with wind in its back. Gérard spend most of the time in his cabin, praying and fasting, eating sparingly and light.

    “Mon seigneur” said a voice outside his room, late in the night of the voyage’s twentieth day, followed by a knock in the door. “Xavier? Come in.” answered the noble. A grizzled and aged man-at-arms entered the room, and bowed his head. “What is it, Xavier?” asked Gérard. The veteran cleared his throat loudly, and answered. “What’s wrong with you, I wonder, mon seigneur. The Pilgrimage is supposed to be honour, yet you act as if it is penance.” Gérard stared at him with fierce eyes “None of your concern”, he snapped back. Unflinching, Xavier raised his left sleeve. “You see this scar?” he asked, pointing to a horrid scar running from his elbow to his palm. “It’s from the fields of Egencourt, were your horse was killed and you fell unconscious, and I stood over you, defending your arse, preventing your capture by the Avalonian scum.” Xavier pointed at his right hand, from which three fingers were missing. “And this?” he added “This is from the siege of Montfort. As ever, you rushed over to the breached gate, swinging your sword and hacking left and right. And yet again, you forgot to check your back. I had to throw my shield to reach you in time, and block the sword that would go right trough your helm!” The sergeant stared at his ruined hand. “Well, thinking about it now, it doesn’t seem it was such a good idea” he joked.

    Gérard chuckled. “You seem to have grown so old as to forget, my friend; I’ve too saved your arse in several occasions. I’d propose to use your fingers to count these times, but they are too few in number after Montfort. Not that if you had them all, you would be able to tell me, but, whatever.” he answered. Xavier burst in laughs as he sat in a chair. “I’ve known you since you were a pup, mon seigneur.” Gérard interrupted him “…and you taught me how to swing swords, maces and other pieces of metal to crush the heads of those shite-for-brains that I don’t like.” The man-at-arms laughed again. “Indeed! Don't forget the lance and shield, too. Come on, Gérard, tell me what’s wrong. What happened? Is it your brother, again?” The noble rose from the bed, where he was sitting, and said ”It’s nothing. Please, Weapons-master, it’s late. We will have plenty of time for talk in the Outremar, I promise." Xavier rose from the chair. “I will hold you to this promise, pup” he said, and left the cabin.

    The knight got on his knees and prayed for the night.



    Je vous salue, Marie pleine de grâces;
    le Seigneur est avec vous.

    Vous êtes bénie entre toutes les femmes
    Et Jésus, le fruit de vos entrailles, est béni.
    Sainte Marie, Mère de Dieu,

    priez pour nous pauvres pécheurs,

    maintenant et à l'heure de notre mort.

    Amen.


    Removing his tunic, boots and pants, Gérard, laid his back on the bed, pleading for a dreamless sleep this time. As his tiredness took hold, and his eyes closed, his soul fled to the blackness.

    Chapter I: Revelations
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: The Joust
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    His vision was limited, yet he could see his brother, in full-armour atop his barded war-horse, clutching his lance on the opposite side of the jousting fence. Sweat ran in streams on his brow, the heat inside the great helm, almost unbearable. It was a fine day for a tourney, he thought, just a bit hotter than it should.
    Trumpets started to sound, as his lord-father arose from his chair, to greet the two combatants, beaming with pride, as both his sons had made it to the final. Gérard put his mailed hand atop his great helm and removed it, his hair stuck in his face. “Squire, water!” he ordered, a youngling running to bring him a jug full of cold water on one hand, and a towel on the other. “Mon seigneur” the squire intoned. Gérard drank and fought to suppress the urge to spill the rest of the liquid to his head. He failed. The cold water fell to his face, its touch refreshing. He returned the jug to the boy, grabbing the towel from his hands and sticking it to his face. “Thank you, squire” he said as he gave back the towel. The boy left the side of Gérard’s horse. The knight turned to watch his father, in the top of the gallery, where his noble guests watched the jousting. The crowd cheered.

    “Truly, it is a great day, today!” Lord Alderic Châtillon proclaimed, loud enough to be heard by all. “Apparently, God has saw fit not only to bless me with a young and beautiful wife…” he gestured at the damsel that sat on the chair next to his. The girl rose up, and for Gérard, time slowed. She moved with a liquid grace, her blonde hair falling in her elegant shoulders. “…whom I’ve married by His grace today, but also, with two warlike and courageous sons!” The knight fought against the girl’s transfixing gaze, and bowed his head to his father. His brother, with his helm still on, mirrored his move. “But, far be it from me to let God’s gifts go unanswered, and so, I have given a tourney on the occasion of my marriage, in His honour!” Gérard stopped paying attention, instead observing the girl his father had married. Ironically, she was a year younger than the knight, and his father approached the sixth decade of his life. What a waste, he thought.

    “My beautiful, bride, Alexandrine Châtillon-Meradaut, to whom of my two brave sons do you offer your grace for this joust?” asked the Lord of Elagnon. Gérard’s heart started pounding. The girl looked inquisitively at the two brothers, and then smiled and answered. “Henry Châtillon, you have my grace for this joust, bearing my colours. May your lance strike fast and true!” Henry Châtillon moved closer to the gallery so that she could place a white lace upon the lance tip of Gérard’s brother. “It is with honour that I accept you colours, and your grace, my lady!” answered Henry, his voice sounding deep beneath his great helm, as he tied the lace on the steel vambrace of his right hand. “Brother!” he shouted “Are you ready to crawl, defeated in the mud?” Gérard couldn’t take his eyes from Alexandrine. She turned to look him, a mocking smile in her face, and amusement in her dark-green eyes. You putain, he thought. “Brother, I am talking to you!” Henry shouted again. Gérard put his helmet back on, and answered fiercely “I accept your challenge, boy!”

    The commoners that had flocked to see their lords fight cheered. Gérard made the sign of the cross, despite not being very pious. It was just instinctive. “Lance, shield!” he commanded. Immediately, his squire placed his lance on his strong right arm, while the defeated knights stood in silence in the stands below the gallery. Gérard looked at them, recognizing the red lion on a yellow font of House Gegnard, the purple tulip on a black font of House Lusignon, and many more. He acknowledged Sir Alain Monterat, bowing his head curtly to him. He had a good fight with him, a round ago, each breaking eight lances on the other’s shield, before Gérard finally unhorsed him. The other knight bowed his bald head deeper, returning the honour. Turning his gaze again towards his brother, Gérard tensed his muscles, clutching his lance, and holding his shield high.

    The trumpets sounded again, and the charge began.


    ------.------


    My horse charged, my Valiant. Time slows, my eyes widen. My throat lets out a cry, a howl of anguish and betrayal. How could she? How DARES she? I lower my lance, driving it to my brother’s upper torso, yet his shield, deflects my blow. His lance never crashed against my shield or armour. Time for another pass.

    “Lance!” I command. My squire, a young boy named Thierry, brings me a new weapon. Trumpets sound! Charge, Valiant! The horse lets out a neigh and starts galloping again.

    Crash! My lance strikes a hit against my brother’s shield. I am elated, but for a second! Oh, God, the force. I struggle to keep my horse’s reins; struggle not to fall down defeated, as I am showered by the fragments of my brother's lance that broke on my shield not a second before. Thank you, Lord, I didn’t fall. My brother, Henry, was always the better of us with the lance, my own preference being the sword and the mace. Hand to hand, like a man I will never understand how he missed me the first time. Henry’s lance, goes where Henry wills. Time for another pass….

    ------.------

    It was the fifth pass. Men and horses had grown tired. Gérard’s deep blue shield was dented, its paint ebbing away to reveal the metal beneath it. Henry’s shield was similarly battered. Lances lowered again, and horses charged, panting. A crash and both the knights fell from the horse, ashamed, in the dust. Lord Alderic screamed and ran to the gallery’s edge, agony written in his face. He looked the two combatants, and assembled his Honour Guard, and headed downstairs, for the tourney ground.


    ------.------



    I lie defeated and ashamed in the mud as my brother had warned me. My head rings, my back is in agonizing pain. But it’s the heart-ache that pains me the most. How could she? How DARES she? I look around, and see my brother’s armour, in the dust. Have I unhorsed him? New strength feeds my limbs as I rise up. I draw my blade. It’s time to end this.

    He rises slowly, unstably. He looks around, his vision probably blurred like mine. “Ready to die, boy?” I ask him, smirking.

    “NOOOO!” a voice cries, and it’s not Henry’s. I turn to see my Lord-Father’s Honour Guard, surrounding both of us, their swords raised.

    “The match needs a winner, Lord-Father!” I protest. “Are you trying to murder your brother, my firstborn?” my father asks. Yes, I did. “No father, I only wanted to win.” He looks unconvinced. “The match indeed needs a victor. Are you all right, Henry?” he asks my brother. Henry nods, and draws his sword, turning to face me. My father waves the Honour Guard away. “Fight if you must, my sons. It’s always been your nature. Until first blood, or surrender.” He said.

    I put myself en garde, grappling my hand-and-a-half sword with my two hands, tossing my shield away. My brother held his own shield up, waiting my attack. I charge, and drive him back, as he parried and defended mechanically. I laughed, almost hysterically. It wouldn’t last long.


    ------.------



    The duel didn’t last long. Two minutes into the fight, and Henry fell on the ground, surrendering. Gérard stood above the fallen knight, with his sword’s edge on his brother’s throat. Removing his helmet, he let the sweet sense of victory shower him. “Well fought…brother…” said Henry venomously.

    Alderic Châtillon joined his sons, and offered his hand to the fallen one, who clumsily rose from the mud. “My firstborn son is victorious!” he roared to the elation of the crowd. “Gérard Châtillon!” The peasants cheered his name. Lord Alderic then turned to the nobles “I’ve married a beautiful girl in the morning, and watched one of my sons winning a tournament in the afternoon. Feast and celebration is in order for the night, I think! You are all welcome to Castle Elagnon!” he said with a proud smile in his face.

    Part II: The Feast
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Gérard woke up suddenly, sweating and gasping. Why God? This was it. The day it all began. His Father’s jousting tournament, his defeat of his brother, everything was rendered perfectly in his dream. He looked outside his cabin’s window, the sea reflecting the pale moonlight. It was still early. Too early. He rose from his bed, and put his clothes on, and sat on the chair in his room. The candle burned dimly at his side. He knew what would happen now. His self-punishing nature kicked in, and memories flowed in his mind.


    ------.------



    The knight, washed himself, removing the grime and sweat from his athletic and muscular body. The feast was underway, and Gérard could hear the musicians playing their instruments and the bards singing about noble knights, and beautiful ladies. Stories about Raymund Almollidon who killed the last dragon and rescued Princess Adelline, Thierry Andouselle, the undefeated Champion of King Louis II Meravangi, three hundred years ago, and others, exemplars for the knights to aspire to. The Bons Chevaliers placed a lot of emphasis in their history, and the nobility, honour and courage of their knights in shining armour. The truth is far worse. Nobility? Many knights and nobles kill peasants for not bowing when they pass through. Some even kill their people for pleasure. Honour? Thierry Andouselle, the “Undefeated” had lost several duels in his first days. Well, he invited those who defeated him for dinner and none came back. He then won tourney after tourney, duel after duel. Courage? At the siege of Montfort, many enemy knights fell on their knees before me, begging for mercy. The peasants surrendered only when their lords had.Gérard laughed bitterly at these thoughts, as he laughed at the ironies of the songs the bards sang.


    Gérard got out of the bathtub, water pouring down from his body. He grabbed a clean white towel, and swept it across his naked skin. When he felt suitably dry, he placed the towel in a chair, and started putting his clothes on. Within minutes, he was fully dressed, a deep blue velvet tunic covering his body. An ornate belt with sapphires on its front, his trophy from the victory in the morning’s tourney, was worn in his waist, the knight’s hand-and-a-half sword hanging in its side. His trousers too, were deep blue. Gérard wore his brown boots, made of leather. On his right shoulder he placed a cape, again in dark blue, with a huge golden seahorse emblazoned on it. Satisfied that he looked as a man of his place should, he left his bedroom and headed downstairs.

    The cacophony of the crowd annoyed Gérard, as he entered Elagnon’s great hall. Lords and ladies, knights and servants, all spoke loudly and made toasts, all while the bards played songs. “Brother!” he heard a voice calling to him. Henry approached him and embraced him warmly, a friendly smile on his face. Having no other choice, Gérard embraced his brother. “Well fought today” Henry said. “I wish I could say the same, brother.” Gérard replied coldly. Henry’s smile froze. “A toast” he said, offering a cup of wine “for our father’s happiness.” The elder brother took the cup and drank as did the younger. The wine was sweetly delicious. Henry embraced Gérard again “Father told me to be courteous with you today, and yet you shame me in front of everyone. I will remember this” he hissed in Gérard’s ear. “Brother” he said loudly, the smile again on his face, but his eyes betraying his tension, as he turned to leave.

    “My firstborn, my heir!” Lord Alderic cried to Gérard “come sit beside me”. The knight went to the table’s head, politely saluting important lords on the way. Alexandrine, now his stepmother gave him a mocking smile, as she stared him with her playful eyes. “Father, stepmother” he said cautiously, as he sat at the left of his father. The bards began to sing again Alderic ignored his son, and in response Gérard ignored his father. Instead the knight focused his attention on Alexandrine. His heart still ached at the dishonour she had done to him in the tournament.

    “My lord husband, I humbly request for permission to go upstairs to refresh myself.” Alexandrine suddenly said to Alderic. “But, of course my dear.” He smiled courteously. Gracefully, the new mistress of Elagnon rose from her chair and started to go up the stairs her crimson dress billowing behind her. Gérard immediately rose from his chair, as his father sang, paying him no heed. He went up the stairs to the Alexandrine’s room.


    Gérard opened the heavy wooden door and entered the bedroom. “What are you doing here?” asked Alexandrine, startled but not overly surprised. Her elegant body was covered by a white nightgown made of silk. The knight didn’t answer he slammed the door shut and walked up to her. “You whore!” he hissed, and grabbed her from the neck with his right hand, slamming her back into the grey wall. “How dare you? How dare you shaming me in front of everyone? How dare you gracing my brother and not me?” Gérard growled, his eyes filled with fury. Alexandrine remained calm, and said “Is this your honour, knight? To strike a defenseless woman?” her lips twitched in a mocking smile. Reluctantly, Gérard let her go. “Why?” was all he could say, his fury slowly ebbing away. “Thick-headed fool!” she exclaimed and slapped him in the face “I am trying to protect you! To protect us! Many people have seen us together, walking and hunting! Up until now, they’ve said that it’s just the elder son’s curiosity at his step-mother and that he tries to get to know her better. Already a dangerous whisper.” She paused to take a breath and turned her back on Gérard, walking to the mirror, slowly combing her blonde hair. She stood before the mirror, staring at Gérard’s reflection. “Do you understand now? Had I offered you my grace, the whispers would have become voices.” Gérard walked and stood behind her. “Fool!” she said, and tried to slap him again. The blow never landed, as the knight’s right hand blocked it. He moved his left arm on her lower back and brought her to his embrace. She tried to resist, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. “Please Gérard, we should end it. I am married to your father.” Gérard lowered his head and whispered in her ear “I don’t care.” She forced herself out of his lap, and stood before the bed. “You shouldn’t be here.” Alexandrine said, trying to regain her composure. Gérard smiled “That’s what you said the last night. And the night before.” He answered embracing her again. “Those were mistakes.” She uttered, unconvinced herself. The knight pushed her to the bed, undressed and laid down by her side. Slowly, surely their bodies united in passion and love.

    “We shouldn’t have done that.” Said Alexandrine, still in Gérard’s embrace, her head resting on his chest. “We do what our hearts tell us to do” answered the knight. “We need to go back downstairs.” She said, rising up and dressing quickly. Gérard too, started to dress. Alexandrine, opened the door slowly, and looked outside, making sure that none was looking. Immediately she left the bedroom. The knight followed her, a bit later. As he caught up with her on the stairs, he said “I am going to seek spiritual guidance tomorrow evening. I am going to confess to Reverent Antoine.” Alexandrine looked at him, alarmed. Before she could say anything, Henry appeared, with two knights of his personal guard. Apparently he was a bit drunk, his red face giving him up. “Ahh, my brother and my step-mother. Father send me to look for you. I trust you didn’t do anything evil upstairs” he said laughing madly. “Silence, whelp!” answered Gérard and holding Alexandrine’s hand, moved down. Henry and the two knights followed them., as they made their way to the great hall.

    “My beautiful wife and my firstborn son” proclaimed Lord Alderic, as they sat by his side. Gérard nodded, and he sat comfortably on the chair deep in contemplation.


    ------.------


    I need spiritual guidance. God, I love her, I truly do. But I can’t have her; both the laws of Heaven and the laws of Man forbid it. Reverent Antoine has known me from childhood; I’ve trusted him with my innermost thoughts ever since I can remember, and he never betrayed me. He is a man I can trust. I must confess my sins, and make peace with God, so that he may guide me to overcome this unholy passion of mine. I don’t care what Alexandrine thinks. A knight must be virtuous and pure. I will not allow the taint of lust to corrupt me.

    Part III: The Exile
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    The feast continued all night long, as befitted such a special occasion. Gérard sat silently on his chair, pondering his options, his eyes empty. Though he couldn’t see it, he could feel Alexandrine’s tension, as he could feel her piercing gaze on him several times. He didn’t look back. After he had had enough of “celebration” he excused himself, and went to rest.
    Dawn found him on the courtyard, practicing his sword skills, as was his custom. Weapons-Master Xavier sparred with him, trading blow for blow with the knight. “Faster, Gérard! What, has the feast yesterday slowed you down?” he remarked, laughing. No, it’s the fact that I haven’t slept a bit that does, Gérard thought. “No, I am just being courteous to an old man, well past his time” he laughed back, swinging his sword across his side. Gripping it with two hands, he attacked the man-at-arms, who held his shield up with his right hand. Xavier was left-handed, and therefore unpredictable with the blade. He used to wield weapons with the right hand too, sometimes, but after the siege of Montfort, when he lost three fingers in that limb, he held any weapon exclusively with his left hand.

    The blow was heavy, but landed upon Xavier’s shield, who tried a stabbing move with his longsword. Evading to his left, instantly holding the blade with his right hand and turning his grip to reverse, Gérard tried to stab Xavier to the ribs, bypassing the shield completely. Xavier had seen it coming, and swung his shield to his right, deflecting the stab as he tried to slash at the knight’s face, who ducked below the blow and jumped back. Both were panting .It was their seventh duel.

    The sun started to come up, beyond the walls, its first rays began reflecting the sweat on Gérard’s face. Sparring without a training helm was very dangerous, but Gérard did it anyway trusting in his own skills to keep him safe. “Are you going to bask in the sunlight now? I am hungry, I want my breakfast!” complained the man-at-arms and charged. Gérard turned his gaze towards him, and blocked the blow at the last possible moment. Xavier’s left hand was very powerful, and it took almost all of Gérard’s strength to stop the blow, even with the two-handed grip he used. Now locked in a strength contest, Xavier pushed his sword harder, trying to break the knight’s block through brute force. Gérard smiled and kicked Xavier’s shield, pushing him away and causing him to lose his balance. As the Weapons-Master fell to the ground, Gérard was on him, kneeling on his chest and placing his blade on Xavier’s neck. “Dead! I guess that makes the score four to three in my favour!” he said jubilantly. Pushing him off, Xavier answered “I guess so”. Gérard smiled “Let’s eat some breakfast, shall we?” he said, offering his hand to the fallen man. The veteran took the knight’s arm, and rose up.

    The two men entered the armoury and removed their training armour. Now wearing their tunics, they placed the training swords in their racks, picked up their real weapons and left for the great hall, discussing sword-fighting.

    The great hall was bristling with activity, as servants tidied up and cleaned it from the leftovers of the feast, and lords tried to package their things for departure. Gérard saluted some of them, wished them farewell, and entered the kitchen. “Madame Agate is the breakfast ready?” he said to the old, fat woman in the kitchen. Gérard wasn’t usually so courteous to servants, but he knew the old woman since he was a child. “Mon enfant, mon petit prince!” she said and embraced Gérard as she tried to kiss his cheeks. The knight gently pushed her away. He hated her when she did that, he wasn’t ten years old anymore, but Agate never seemed to care. “Oui, your breakfast is ready!” she said, beaming with joy and gestured at two plates with two pieces of bread, four snipping of cheese and ham and an apple, one for the knight and another for Xavier, as well as two goblets of milk. The two men took their plates and goblets and bode farewell to the old woman and left for the Atrium on the upper floor.

    They sat on a bench, and they placed the plates on the table in front of them. “You need to improve your defense. Look how easily I broke through your defensive posture in the second duel we had. And what is this stupidity with the reverse grip? When have I ever shown you that thing?” criticized Xavier. “Well, it worked. I ‘ve won!” smiled Gérard. “You didn’t win because of that. In fact it left you quite open to a counter-attack” argued the grizzled veteran. “It would have worked against a less skilled opponent!” the knight protested “Probably. And it would have killed you if you tried to do this against a more skilled one” answered Xavier “There is no one more skilled than me” said the knight smirking arrogantly. “The Crusader-knights in the Outremer would beg to differ, Gérard. Especially those of the Orders” insisted Xavier, between mouthfuls. “These are zealots that train and pray all day” said Gérard. “Yes they are. They are also the best warriors in all of Christendom. You know nothing of them, pup” answered the man-at-arms, his voice betraying respect and reverence. Gérard looked him inquisitively. “No, I don’t. But you clearly do. So what can you tell me of them?” he asked eagerly. Gérard was always fascinated by stories of heroism and chivalry. Xavier began answering “They are…” A voice interrupted him. “Fools! They fast and they don’t get laid. What’s life without making love to beautiful women?” Henry apparently was in a good mood, unaffected by the headache that should bother him, after his exertions with the wine in the feast. But the fool is a wine-jug. Gérard thought. Henry approached them. “Good morning brother, good morning cripple” he said. “Show some damn respect to the man that taught you how to fight!” shouted Gérard, rising suddenly from the bench. “Oh, come brother, can’t you stand the truth? Look, Xavier didn’t bother, did you now, cripple?” he asked. Without expecting any answer, he added “Anyhow, I will not tolerate your misery any longer. I am going to father and Alexandrine. You should come too, we must say our farewells to the visitors”. Henry turned to leave, picking his elder brother’s apple from the plate. “God damn you, Henry come back at once!” bellowed Gérard. Henry waved his hand, never turning his eyes towards them.

    “Leave him be” Xavier said silently. “Your brother. Always cocky, always insulting, but a natural with the lance. I have not seen such potential in years” he mused. “To be brutally honest, I was surprised you unhorsed him yesterday” he said to Gérard, turning to look him. “I am better in melee combat, though” said Gerard, sounding almost hurt as he sat down. The veteran’s face beamed “Oh yes, you are, my boy. Your brother never worked enough in this. He fights mechanically, hiding behind a shield, yet his defense is laughable, as you proved yesterday” Leaning to Gérard’s ear, he whispered “Just between you and me, I think he is afraid of melee combat.” Gerard burst into laughter. “So, tell me about the Orders.” he said as he calmed down. “I saw a Pale Knight once. In a tournament. He cut through his opponents like a scythe cuts through the crops. He was unstoppable, an avalanche of azure and crimson. He won the tourney, and offered half the reward to the local church and the other half he spent in bread with which he fed the poor. But the way he fought…no simple knight could fight like this.” Xavier seemed thrilled. “Then what was he?” asked Gérard. “He was a knight, yet more refined. Better, stronger, faster. I don’t know…” answered Xavier. “If I wasn’t going to inherit this Castle, perhaps I would go to Syrianna and the Crusades.” said the knight and rose up. “Where are you going, lad?” asked the man-at-arms. “To greet my father, and bade farewell to some nobles, damn be the protocol. Thank you for sparring today with me, Xavier.” said Gérard “My pleasure, mon seigneur” answered Xavier as the knight walked away.

    Two hours later, and the last visitors had left. Lord Alderic entered the great hall, where servants still cleaned up the mess, followed by his two sons, his new wife at his side. “Alexandrine, Henry, can you please give me some time with Gérard?” he said in a gentle voice.” The two left, and Alderic turned to his firstborn son “Will you ride with me to the woods, my son?” asked the Lord of Elagnon. That was Alderic’s way of saying “I want to speak with you, alone”, and Gérard was inclined to agree. “Of course, father.” His father was apparently pleased “Excellent! Go to the stables, I will join you there in a few minutes!” he said.

    Gérard entered the stables surprised that he found them empty, and started saddling Valiant. He enjoyed these few moments of peace and quietness. “Gérard?” he heard a woman’s voice behind him and turned to see Alexandrine wearing a plain dress, her hair falling on her shoulders. He tried to embrace her, but she didn’t let him “Gérard, are you going to confess?” she asked. The knight obviously disappointed turned his attention to the horse. “I will. This evening” he said flatly. “I beg you, for the last time, not to go, my love.” she implored. The knight turned to her and placed his hand beneath her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye “Reverent Antoine is the most trustworthy man I’ve ever known. Our secret is safe with him.” The girl seemed unconvinced; her eyes betrayed something like guilt, if only for a moment. Voices could be heard from outside, and Alexandrine fled quickly from the backdoor, leaving Gérard alone. His father came a few moments later, with four of his Honour Guard with him, their bright silver partial plate armour in deep contrast with their deep blue cloaks. “Captain Raymond, would you be so kind as to prepare my horse?” Lord Alderic asked, ever courteous. A few minutes later they departed.

    The group reached the outskirts of the Tronçais Forest. One of the few woodland areas so close to the sea, Tronçais was both beautiful and deadly to those who weren’t careful. Lord Alderic signaled his men to halt, as he and Gérard ventured in the woods on horseback. The young knight liked the sounds of the forest, the tweets of the birds, the splashing of crystal clear water streams under the green roof of the woodland’s ancient trees. However, his heart was truly at peace when near the sea. He would often stand on the battlements of Castle Elagnon, even in days when grey clouds marred the sky, gazing at the horizon, allowing the sea-winds to caress his face, smelling the sea, and contemplating.

    “My son.” said Alderic Châtillon, drawing Gérard from his reveries. “Father? How was your first night with the Lady?” he asked, hoping to control the conversation. Lord Alderic smiled, even though it was hollow “How do you think? I am no longer young, my son. We simply slept.” Can’t say I didn’t expect that thought Gérard “You shouldn’t have married her!” he remarked sounding more agitated than he intended. Lord Alderic seemed to ignore him. “Alexandrine is stunningly beautiful, isn’t she?” he said. “She is pretty” agreed Gérard. Lord Alderic laughed loudly “Just pretty, huh? That’s why you couldn’t take your eyes off her last night?” Alarmed, the young knight tried to explain “Father, I…” The Lord of Elagnon stopped him. “It’s allright son. Where would we be, if my firstborn didn’t like girls?” he said, still smiling. Gérard tried to stay silent but failed, and answered venomously “My father apparently likes girls too. That would be perfectly normal if he wasn’t widowed, and if he wasn’t one of the greatest lords in the Royaume. You should be ashamed, Father. I understand that you want a woman’s embrace in your remaining days, but Alexandrine is nineteen years old. Damn you, old man.” Lord Alderic looked his son, sadness plain in his face. “I intended her for you, you know” he said. Now that, I didn’t expect, thought Gérard. “What are you saying? Speak plainly and clearly, for once in your life! You owe me that much!” the knight said. Alderic sighed “Twenty years ago, in the Succession War between the current king Charles X and his traitorous brother François, I met Alexandrine’s father, Alain Meradaut. Through blood and fire, a friendship was forged between us. When the war ended, I learned I had a son, and that his wife was pregnant. We made a deal. That his first female child, if any, would marry with the Lord of Elagnon. I never thought I would live as long as I did, I expected war or illness would take me. But I lived. And so, Alexandrine married the Lord of Elagnon. Alain died four years ago, before he could see the parody you watched yesterday. His widow has been pressing for this marriage ever since. I delayed it as long as I could, but it was unavoidable.”

    Gérard was dumbstruck, as he heard the story. When his father finished, the knight immediately answered. “Are you telling me that this….shame was because of a stupid wording error? Do you pass me for a fool, father? Are you trying to convince me that you didn’t want this?” Lord Alderic said “My son, it was a matter of honour. The King…” Gérard never let him finish “The King? All I see here is an excuse for your failings. You failed as a husband, and you failed as a father. You were never there for me, nor for mother. You weren’t there when she was killed. Again in King’s business, I assume. You weren’t there when I almost died of fever seven years ago. Where were you?” Alderic listened silently to his son’s outburst. When Gérard finished, he sighed again “Shut up, whelp and let me explain. I was never a good father nor for you, nor for your brother. I wasn’t a good husband either. But whatever I did was for the good of this House. And your mother wasn’t killed. She died. As I said, my marriage with Alexandrine was a matter of honour. The King himself bore witness to this deal. The King! Yes, I made many mistakes in my life, and that moment was one of them. As you understand such deals can’t be broken” Gérard tried to speak but Alderic didn’t let him “In the Succession War, I saved the King’s life in an ambush, taking a bolt in the shoulder that was meant for him. Naturally, King Charles was grateful and told me that he would give me anything I would ask to thank me. I didn’t answer, because at that time, I had everything I wanted. Every year, on the anniversary of that ambush, he sends me a pigeon, which always bears the same message. Whatever you want and I can give, ask and it’s yours” Gérard stared him, suspicious. “So, four months ago, when it became apparent that I wouldn’t die, and that I would be forced to marry Alexandrine, I asked an audience with the King. What I asked him was his daughter’s hand for marriage with my firstborn son.”

    Gérard gasped, disbelief plain in his face. “What?” Lord Alderic smiled “The King was only too happy to grant me the honour! Yes, son, you will marry Princess Frederique, in two months time after she comes of age.” Thick-headed fool,Gérard thought. “Father, I apologize. I thought that you…” Lord Alderic placed his hand on his son’s shoulder “Honest words were spoken today, and let that be the end of it. At least I didn’t make another wording error” he chuckled, and continued” Know this, my son. One day I will die, as will you, and as will your brother. Only the House endures. I have always strived to improve our fortunes. Your sons may be princes! Who knows, one day maybe a man of Châtillon blood will sit on the throne. You too, must do your part. Remember, you will die, but the Family will live on!” Gérard nodded and asked “And why the King didn’t come to the wedding?” Alderic laughed harder and said “Why, if the King went to the wedding of every noble he would be too busy to run the kingdom!” Gérard was inclined to agree. The two men turned their horses, and set for the edge of the woods.

    “Another thing that concerns me is your relation with your brother” said suddenly the Lord of Elagnon. “I understand that he is jealous of you, as he thinks you will inherit Elagnon…” Gérard stopped his horse “I WILL inherit Elagnon!” he said firmly. Alderic laughed “Don’t be a fool, son. You will move to a new castle, with the Princess, a castle that will be part of her dowry and Elagnon will be your brother’s. So, both of you will be happy.” Gérard wisely chose not to pursue the subject, even though it bothered him that the castle where he lived his entire life would pass to his hated brother. “So, I can understand his stance, but not yours” said Lord Alderic. Gérard looked his father “He killed mother!” Alderic narrowed his eyes “Your mother died at childbirth.” The knight smiled bitterly “That’s what I am saying. He killed her!” The Lord of Elagnon pointed a finger at his face “Now listen, son. It wasn’t your brother’s fault. I don’t ask you to love him, but I demand that you refrain from petty insults and other such actions. You know what I am talking about. Actions like that one in the tourney yesterday.” Gérard lowered his eyes. “I will, father.” Alderic smiled, apparently pleased, and the two men set forth to find their escort.

    Later in the evening, Gérard decided that it was the right time to confess to the Reverent, knowing that he would be alone in the Castle’s Chapel, praying and keeping it clean and proper. He went down the stairs, into the great hall. Castle Elagnon seemed like it was abandoned, apparently everyone was fast asleep. He left great hall, and made his way across the courtyard, to the Chapel. Opening the heavy wooden door, he found Reverent Antoine on his knees, praying before the altar. “Reverent?” the knight called. The bald old man turned to him “Ah, Gérard! Come, come my boy!” Like Xavier and Agate, Antoine knew Gérard since the latter was a child. The priest looked slightly more agitated than usual, and a hint of fear played in his features. “Is something amiss, Reverent? Perhaps I should come later?” asked the knight, noticing the priest’s odd behaviour. “No, no, my child” insisted the Reverent “It’s just my stomach that plays merry tricks with me” he added chuckling. “I need to confess my sins, Father.” whispered Gérard in the priest’s ear. A wide but uncertain smile appeared in the old man’s wrinkled face “Of course, child. Just allow me to prepare. Go to the confessional, I will be there momentarily to hear your Sacrament of Penance”


    ------.------


    I enter the old wooden confessional, close the door and kneel on the kneeler. A few minutes later, I hear the confessional’s other door opening and the bulk of the priest sitting on the chair. I hear the Father’s reassuring voice “Tell me, my boy. What bothers you?” I breathe deeply and reply “I have sinned Father, against the laws of God and Man. I have broken the Ninth Holy Commandment. I have coveted another man’s wife.” The priest gulped “And who’s wife have you coveted, my son?” It is the moment of truth. “My Father’s.” I answer. Reverent Antoine gulped louder. “Did you have…carnal knowledge of each other, my son?” Another deep breath. “Several times, Reverent”. The old man is in state of shock. Suddenly, I hear sounds outside the confessional, sounds of armoured boots crashing against the stone floor and of swords being drawn from their sheaths. I rise up quickly, and make to leave the confessional, as I hear the Reverent whispering the Rite of Absolution, his voice shaking:


    “Dieu le Père de clémences,
    par la mort et la résurrection de son Fils
    a réconcilié le monde à lui
    et envoyé l'Esprit Saint parmi nous
    pour le pardon de péchés;
    par le ministère de l'Église
    Dieu de mai vous donne le pardon et la paix,
    et je vous exonère de vos péchés
    au nom du Père et du Fils,
    et de l'Esprit Saint.
    Le mai la Passion de notre Seigneur Jésus Christ,
    l'intercession de la Vierge Bénie Mary et de tous les saints,
    quels que soit bon vous faites et la souffrance de vous endurent,
    guérissez vos péchés,
    aidez-vous à grandir dans la sainteté,
    et la récompense vous avec la vie éternelle.
    Allez en paix”




    I come out of the confessional. Ten of my father’s Honour Guard in full armour stand en garde in crescent formation around the door of the confessional, their blades pointing at me. Behind them stands Henry, his lips twitched in a triumphal smile, Alexandrine, her visage blank and devoid of any feeling and my father, his face twisted in anger. I see Reverent Antoine leaving the confessional running from the other door, tumbling upon the Chapel’s chairs wailing as he went. “You will come with us, now!” says my father, his voice rich with menace.

    I take a moment to consider my options. Sure, drawing my blade was one option, but my opponents are ten fully armoured men, the best knights sworn in the service of my father. I could kill one, perhaps two, before I was torn to pieces. No. Besides, we are in the House of God. No blood must be spilled here, it’s sacrilegious.

    I make a step to the Honour Guards. “Your sword! Give it up!” growls one of them, and I recognize the voice of Captain Raymond. I unsheathe my blade, and offer it up. Two of the Guards grab me from the arms, and start dragging me across the courtyard.


    ------.------



    Gérard was thrown in the dungeons of Castle Elagnon. It was cold, and the humidity was overbearing. He must have been in that cell for at least three hours when the Guards came for him. Grabbing him again from the arms, they dragged him to Elagnon’s upper hall. Candles burned all around, and the moon that had risen to the sky shed its pale light in the hall, through the windows on the thick great wall. In there, were Lord Alderic, Henry and Alexandrine as well as the ten Honour Guard from the Chapel, their glares ranging from impassive to accusing and finally to hateful.
    Lord Alderic seated on a throne spoke, his voice booming, and filled with anger. “You know why you are here, knight?” Gérard took a deep breath “I do.” Alderic narrowed his eyes “And how do you pledge?” he asked “I pledge guilty, father.” The Lord of Elagnon sighed “Never call me that again, knight. Even this title and honour doesn’t suit you either.” He growled. “My wife, what have you to say? Did you betray me, to be with this vile creature?” he asked, his voice suddenly gentler. Alexandrine looked around impassively, lowered her head and answered “I would never betray you, mon seigneur…” he stared at Gérard, who noticed a certain regret in her eyes. “I…I was violated by this brute!” she said, suddenly looking at the floor again. Gérard gasped. “What?” he said, astonished by such profane lies. Lord Alderic looked him again “Do you have any objection? Do you imply that my wife is lying?”


    ------.------


    She has betrayed me again, probably for the last time. But in her eyes, I saw sadness and regret and guilt, I am sure. Who knows, perhaps someone has forced her to speak such heinous lies. My life is forfeit, anyway. There is no reason that Alexandrine’s should be too. I will confirm everything they may blame me for. For you, my love, I think as I look at her again….



    ------.------


    I did violate her, mon seigneur. And I threatened her not to speak about it, or I would kill her” said Gérard, his voice steady and filled with purpose. Lord Alderic’s eyes were filled with hate and tears. “Why?” he cried “I’ve trusted you! You were my firstborn, my heir! I had such plans for you! Why?” The old man was weeping and cursing Gérard. Henry placed his hand on his father’s shoulders. “Don’t worry father! I was the one who brought you word of these profanities. You know who to trust now. You still have a son” He paused to take a breath. “Me!” The blow was so fast; one could not believe it came from a man that approached the sixth decade of his life. The sound of the slap echoed across the hall. Trembling, Lord Alderic turned to his younger son, who had placed his hand on his cheek and grunted in pain and humiliation. “Silence, arrogant fool! You are no better than him. Don’t think I don’t know about the whores you bring to MY Castle, nor about your orgies in the ports brothel, nor about your drinking habits.” The Lord of Elagnon turned his gaze up, and shouted in desperation. “Why, Lord? Why did you curse me with two unworthy sons?” he then turned to Captain Raymond and pointed his finger at Gérard. “Take his head! Now!” The Captain drew his blade and Gérard prepared himself for the end
    .
    Henry coughed “There is another solution, Lord Father. One that doesn’t require staining this castle with blood from kin-slaying.” He uttered, still clutching at his reddened cheek. The Lord of Elagnon looked at his younger son and waved Captain Raymond to stop. “And what solution might this be?” he asked half angry, half curious. Henry let out a sly smile. “My brother is a good warrior, everybody knows that. Why not let him fight as penance for his unforgivable sins and let God judge him? Why not send him to the Crusades?” Lord Alderic placed his hand on his chin skeptical. Captain Raymond said “It’s a good idea, mon seigneur. It saves us the trouble of finding a convincing excuse as to why your son’s head is missing from his shoulders.” The Lord of Elagnon was still skeptic. “True. Secrecy is of utmost importance, or the House will be the laughing stock of everyone” He sighed. “So be it, then. Bring me a quill pen, a paper and my seal!” Henry rushed to obey his father. “Come here, and write down all I say.” he said to Gérard. The knight took the quill “I, Gérard Châtillon hereby renounce my heirloom and claim to Château Elagnon in favour of my beloved brother Henry Châtillon. I pledge before God and witnesses to undertake a Pilgrimage in the Holy Lands of Syrianna, and join the armies of our Lord, fighting for Christendom until my dying breath. So swear I, before these witnesses…” One by one, every man in the room signed, and the seal with the seahorse was placed in the folded paper. An oath of silence was then taken, to ensure that the shame commited would never leave this hall. Lord Alderic gave the sealed paper to Gérard “Normally, I wouldn’t allow you to use the family’s honourable name again, lest you taint it, but this is a special case. You need also to pick some men to go with you. It must appear like it’s your choice. Your personal guard is disbanded, as well.” Gérard thought about it. “I only want the Weapons-Master with me, father.” he answered. “Preposterous! Xavier must stay here. Henry needs him!” Henry was insulted “I have no need of a cripple!” he protested loudly. Lord Alderic gave him an angry glare “It shall be so. You may take him, but you will take no other men.” he said to Gérard. “Now, go, package your things. A blockade runner will leave for Bae-Acre in a few hours. I want you gone, by dawn, never to return. May you find honour in death, as you never did in life. From now on I only have one son.” Having spoken these words, the Lord of Elagtnon rose from the throne and left, along with his wife, his only son and his Honour Guard. Raymond was the last to leave, offering Gérard's sword back to him. "Godspeed, son!" intoned the veteran knight before leaving Gérard alone.

    The knight went to his room finding to of his father’s Honour Guard standing watch outside. He entered the room and started packing his things. Suddenly he heard footsteps, followed by a cruel laughter at his back. He turned to see Henry laughing at him. “Leave, now” the knight warned. “Come brother, why so gloomy? You are going to the Crusades. Oh, the adventure!” Henry said and laughed again. Gérard rose up, clenched his fists and moved to face his brother. In perfect unison, the two guards entered and placed their shields between the two brothers. “Woah, brother!” Henry exclaimed “You took away my honour! It was the thing I treasured most in my life!” shouted Gérard furiously. Henry grinned “How does it feel?” Gérard felt like a dog on a leash unable to strike at his tormentor. Henry continued “Normally you should be thanking me; if I wasn’t there you would be dead by now. Anyhow…” he gave Gérard a pitiful look. “…I never really hated you, Gérard. I never loved you either. I couldn’t care less about you and your so-called honour. It was all about self-preservation, really. I wanted Elagnon, and I got it.” Gérard felt his anger flare “How did you know?” he growled. Henry gave him a sly smile “There is little that happens in Elagnon and I don’t know about…” He lowered his face to Gérard’s ear and whispered softly, ensuring that only his brother could hear “….and I had the best informer, actually.” Gérard froze. “You didn’t really believe that you were the only member of the family that had had carnal knowledge with Alexandrine, did you? And since we both know that father didn’t, I give you three guesses on who is that other person.” He said. Gérard gathered his hatred and head-butted his brother in the nose, before the Guards could react "LIAR” he bellowed. The sound of cracking bone was like sweet music in his ears. He immediately felt hands grabbing his arms. Henry stood up, his nose malformed and his lips bleeding. He punched his brother in the belly and forced him to his knees. “And now, 'brother' you leave my life for good. You will die in Outremer, Gérard. Your hot blood will flow in the burning sand, drop by drop. Your brains will be spilled from your cracked skull in a dune in the middle of an endless desert and the carrion birds will feast on your corpse. You will die, 'brother'! And know that I didn’t lie, this once.” Henry turned and left while Gérard let a howl of fury and sorrow.

    Two hours later, the knight and the Weapons-Master boarded the ship. Though Gérard couldn’t see her, he could feel Alexandrine’s eyes on him. What if Henry told the truth? He thought, as the ship began sailing, in the dead of the night.

    ------.------



    The first rays of sunlight stirred Gérard from his bitter reveries. He climbed up to the deck, watching a bright sun rising, over a new land, a new world. And as he gazed upon Syrianna, Gérard was sure of only one thing: He would die on this world.

    Chapter II: Strangers in a strange land
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Gérard stood at the prow of the blockade runner, staring at the horizon, where the port of Bae-Acre had come into view. Unlike the ports of Europa, where mist and haze were commonplace, the port’s high walls could be seen even from this distance, giving him a taste of the arid climate of Syrianna, before he had even set foot on the continent. They would be in the port in one hour at most.
    The knight felt quite tired, his continuous fasting and lack of sleep from the previous night had taken its toll on him. He had lost some weight in the journey and was even more slender than he used to be. Xavier came by his side. “The Tower of Faith and the Tower of Duty” he said, pointing at the two defensive towers that guarded the entry to the port. “They have ballistae, catapults and everything you can imagine in there. They are almost impregnable. Unless the enemy has cannons that is. Plus they are lighthouses.” Gérard looked surprised. “How did you know all that?” he asked “A friend of mine has come to Bae-Acre, a merchant. He told me.” answered the veteran.

    The ship’s captain stood behind them, cleared his throat and said “My lords. We will arrive at the port in an hour or so. It’s been my honour to have traveled with you, Lord Gérard.” The knight placed his hand on the captain’s shoulder. ”It’s been an honour to be aboard your ship, Captain.” he said and smiled. The captain seemed grateful, but nervous. “I am going to the horses, below” said Gérard to Xavier. “Good, I will prepare the baggage, for when we reach the port”, answered the Weapons-Master


    Climbing down to the ship’s hold, Gérard found the six horses to be quite agitated. It’s twenty days at Sea, they haven’t seen any light, and they haven’t stepped on land. It’s only natural, he thought, as he fondled them and whispered relaxing words in their ears. They had taken six horses with them, two chargers (his Valiant, a Destrier and a less expensive Courser for Xavier), two Palfreys for marching and two packhorses. Gérard knew that they would need more animals, and had taken enough money with him to ensure that they could buy what they needed from a local horse-breeder.


    He stayed a little bit more with the animals, still fondling and speaking to them to alleviate their fear. Gérard loved horses. They were invaluable in the field, and a good war-horse often meant the difference between life and death, but they were also status symbols for Gérard and his peers. The Knights of the Royaume would never go into war without riding the finest horses money can buy. Fighting on foot was for the peasants, and while some nobles preferred to fight on foot, they were considered odd and thought to be of a lesser bloodline compared to the “true” Bon Chevaliers. Gérard loved horses for another reason as well. They had an almost human behaviour, and a loyalty to their master that was unmatched. On the fields of Egencourt his previous war-horse had been shot from under him by an Avalonian arrow and he fell unconscious. The injured horse stood over him, and defended the unconscious knight by biting and kicking anyone who dared approach him, until it fell dead, as Xavier, who also fought to protect Gérard, had told him. He slowly started to climb back up to the deck.


    The ship approached the port’s entrance, flying the Fleur-De-Lys on its mast. Gérard was shocked to see the true size of the two towers Xavier had mentioned. They were at least thirty meters tall and had very thick battlements. The knight wasn’t sure that even cannons would bring them down. True keeps, he thought.

    The blockade runner arrived at the port, and Gérard with Xavier and the horses set foot for the first time in Syrianna. The port of Bae-Acre bristled with activity. War-galleys of the Holy Order’s navy were stationed here and there and merchant cogs unloaded their cargo.


    A short wiry man approached them, flanked by half a dozen sergeants in azure and red surcoats. “My lords” he said, bowing curtly “I assume you are knights of the Royaume, here to join the armies of God, correct?” Gérard looked him “Indeed. I am Gérard Châtillon. And this is my man-at-arms, Xavier Nelois. You are port authority?” the knight asked. “I am, good lord! You are a Châtillon., you say? Of castle Elagnon, right?” Gérard smiled, bitterly “Correct.” He said “In that case, you must go and see the Steward of Acre, up in the Castle. Just follow the road outside the gate” said the official, pointing at the wall’s gate. Xavier and Gérard jumped on their Palfreys, and tied the other horses behind them. The six sergeants followed the new arrivals to the gate, where two mounted to escort them to the castle.


    They reached the Castle, and Gérard with Xavier led their horses into the stables outside the wall. To call Bae-Acre a mere castle was an understatement. It was a true citadel, with thick walls, huge battlements and dozens of defensive towers. More than that, it was massive in size. Tens of thousands of people lived inside, the burden of their safety falling heavy upon the shoulders of the Bae-Acre’s garrison. And what a garrison, it was! A thousand knights who had sworn allegiance to its Steward, in return for their fiefs, and more than six thousand sergeants, men-at-arms and local conscripts. The people of Syrianna were naturals with the bow, and the Holy Order of the Pale Knight, didn’t let this talent to be wasted. Bae-Acre also housed Chapterhouses of two of Christendom’s most powerful and renowned Militant Orders, the Knights Templar and the Knights of St. John or Hospitallers as they are known, thus adding a further three hundred knights and three thousand sergeants to the citadel’s garrison.


    Gérard had pried this information on the road to the Castle, by one of the sergeants who accompanied them, who had proven to be very talkative. The two soldiers escorted Gérard and Xavier to the Keep, and left them at the great hall’s entrance. Two Eden Guards stood guard, their huge two-handed axes held across their mail-armoured chests. These men-at-arms guarded all administrative and governmental buildings in the Kingdom of Heaven. Gérard and Xavier passed between them and entered the great hall of the keep. Light fell across the stone floor through the large strained windows, while the smoke and smell from last night’s use of the fireplace in the center of the hall hadn’t subsided. A bearded man stood in a raised chair, discussing with another man, surrounded by ten Eden Guards. The conversation was interrupted, as soon as the two men entered the great hall. “That is all for now, seneschal” said the seated man, who stared Gérard and Xavier with fierce and intelligent eyes. His face was rugged and a scar ran from his just above his eyebrow to his right lip. “Might I help you, good gentlemen?” he asked, his lips twitching in a smile that seemed somehow mocking. “My lord!” exclaimed Gérard bowing curtly. “I take it you are the Steward of Bae-Acre?” The bearded man smiled even more “By the grace of God and Grandmaster Baldwin, I am thus. My name is Robert Agerton. And you are?” Gérard and Xavier bowed deeply. “I am Gérard Châtillon, and my companion is Xavier Nelois. At your command, my lord!” proclaimed the knight. “Gérard Châtillon, you say?” muttered Robert. “Your house is rich and powerful but has never committed anything to the Crusades. No gold, no troops, nothing.” Gérard smiled uncomfortably “It commits me” he said, and offered the sealed letter he was forced to sign at his shame. Robert took it and broke the seal. “You know” he uttered as he examined the contents “You may have a relative here in that case. A certain Templar named Bayard Leveret” Gérard answered “Uncle Bayard? He is my late mother’s brother.” Robert didn’t seem to notice him “Well, you really sacrificed a lot to be in our company.” He said “I mean, Castle Elagnon is renowned for its wealth.” The Steward rose up from the chair “Come to my office, we will discuss further in there.” he said as he passed through the Eden Guards.


    The two friends followed Robert up the stairs to the keep’s upper floors, flollowed by four axe-bearing Guards. Servants and soldiers stood aside as the Lord of Bae-Acre walked the halls of his keep. Only the two Eden Guards outside his office stood still, their features hidden beneath the steel faceplate of their great-helms. Robert saluted them respectfully, before entering. The four Guards that followed them, stayed outside, with their peers. As Gérard had learned from the talkative sergeant on their ride to Bae-Acre, Eden Guards were respected warriors with a fierce reputation, earned on the countless battles that had been fought in the Holy Lands. Their courage and unwavering loyalty made them a terror for the Muslims and a symbol for the Christians, second only to the knights of the Militant Orders themselves.


    “So” said Robert, unfurling a large map “As a knight, you must have a fief.” Gérard looked patiently. “A castle would be more appropriate to my lineage, I think” he said. The Steward started to laugh like a maniac. “A castle?” he laughed a bit more, and then his face turned suddenly into stone. “Where do you think you have come, boy?”The knight blushed “My…lord?” Robert stared at him his eyes piercing Gérard “You are in the Holy Lands boy. In the Kingdom of Heaven, a man gets what he deserves. Your place in the society of the Royaume warrants that you have a fief here. You want a castle? Earn it!” He put the map in front of Gérard. “Choose from the greyed ones.” He growled. Gérard pondered a bit. He then pointed his finger at a coastal settlement and proclaimed “This one.” Robert looked skeptically. “The Trident…very well, it’s yours.” He said. He put out a quill and a paper, and he signed the grant of land. The Steward rose up, sealed the paper and offered it to Gérard. “This is yours.” The knight and the man-at-arms knelt before the Lord of Bae-Acre and offered their allegiance, by unsheathing their swords and offering the hilts to Robert Agerton. The Steward graciously accepted their allegiance and commanded them to rise. As the two men rose Robert smiled “Come with me. I am going to show you around Bae-Acre”.


    Descent from the Keep’s upper floor was quicker than the ascent. Robert moved in front of Gérard and Xavier, who were flanked by the four Eden Guards that had escorted them on their way up. As they reached the Keep’s gate, Gérard cleared his throat “My lord?” a few seconds passed “What is it, Gérard?” answered Robert. “My…fief lord. Why wasn’t there a claimant?” The Steward laughed. “The previous owner was killed in a raid by Vashta pirates. He left no heirs, so, the fief was maintained from the Kingdom’s treasury until a knight arrived to claim it. It’s a good fief. Coastal, modest in wealth, but with a strong fishing community.” Gérard appeared troubled. The seven men left the keep and moved through the maze of the streets of Bae-Acre. “And the fief’s fighting force?” Gérard suddenly asked. “Quite strong. Around seventy sergeants and crossbowmen and twenty men-at-arms, fully equipped. You won’t need to spend a thing other than their pay-grade.” Robert answered. He paused to take a breath, as they reached the Fortress’ square. “Ah, the central square. On the right you can see the Market District, where you can buy anything. To your left, is the Middle District where most of the population lives.” The lord’s finger pointed at the general direction of each site.


    A patrol of white-clad sergeants passed in front of them, a crimson cross inwrought at their chests, where their hearts beat for their Order, bearing shields and spears. “Templar Sergeants?” asked Xavier. Lord Robert turned to face him. “Indeed” he said. “Their Chapterhouse is nearby, behind that building, in the Market District.” He waved his hand in the general direction of the Market District. “The Hospitallers are placed in the Middle District, where their medical skills can be better applied. This serves also to keep a distance between the two Orders” Lord Robert sighed. The last sentence piqued Gérard’s curiosity. “You keep them separated? What for?” he asked. “Peace. There are…unpleasant differences between the two orders. They need to be kept separated else they will tear themselves to pieces.” Xavier intervened “And what does the Holy Order of the Pale Knights do?” The Lord of Bae-Acre looked at the man-at-arms solemnly “The Holy Order isn’t here. All its Battle-Brothers are stationed in Bae-Eden, to be able to respond to any call by the Grandmaster quickly.”


    They continued walking in the streets of Bae-Acre’s Market District. “I’d like to ask you a question, my young friend.” Said Lord Robert looking at Gérard. “My lord” the knight replied. “How comes and a young man with your stature and promise abandons his castle, and his comforts, leaving everything to his brother, to come to the Kingdom of Heavens and fight for Christendom?” Gérard knew he had to tread carefully. “I am pious, my lord.” He replied “I want to fight for Christendom and our Lord, Jesus Christ.” Robert seemed unconvinced. “I have my doubts. But, seeing this is a personal matter of yours, I will not press for more. But your heirloom, Castle Elagnon is too much to just leave t for the Crusades. But I applaud your faith, if you truly took this decision with your heart.” Gérard smiled uneasily. “My lord, I have a question too, for you, if I may?” The Steward of Bae-Acre seemed genuinely interested. “Oh? Of course.” Gérard cleared his throat “Are you Avalonian, my lord?” The Steward of Acre froze, and when he turned to answer Gérard, his eyes were like ice. “Listen, knight. You are in the Kingdom of Heaven now. There are no Avalonians here. Nor people of the Royaume. There is noone but men of Christ. Each of them would die for you, regardless of your nationality. They expect you to do the same. We are the bulwark at the frontier of the Christian world. We don’t have time for petty differences, here.” Robert said his voice firm. Gérard wisely chose not to broach the subject further.


    After showing them around the fortress for another hour, Robert took Gérard and Xavier to the stables and bode them farewell. “Duty calls me. I am going to send guides to lead you to your fief.” Said the Lord of Bae-Acre. He leaned to Gérard. “I pride myself for being a great judge of characters. I see potential in you. I don’t know anything of your previous life, and frankly, I don’t care. I hope you will not prove me wrong. Welcome to the Holy Lands.” Lord Robert spun on his heels, his Eden Guards forming a circle around him.


    “What do you think?” asked Gérard as they waited for the guides. Xavier scratched his chin with his ruined hand. “I don’t know. You still haven’t told me the real reason for us being here.” Gérard sighed. He didn’t want to speak about it. Not now. The wound was deep and it pained him still. Before Xavier could press him more, the guides appeared. Two robed men with turbans and camels were to guide them through the desert sands. The knight and the man-at-arms tied the horse on the saddle of their Palfreys. They then jumped on the Palfreys’ back and followed their guides in the desert.


    ------.------

    The heat. Good Lord, the heat. I am at the point of dehydration. The sun now goes down behind the dunes. The horses suffer more than men, though. Truly, Syrianna is a land of scorpions and serpents. The guides claim that at night, the temperatures drop dramatically. I hope it’s true. They also claim that tomorrow we reach the Trident. I pray that’s true.
    We have set up camp on a dune, and we set up the watches. As fortune would have it, I would be first watch. Xavier approached me again, before he went to sleep. I blabbered the same nonsense about how honoured I was to go on the Pilgrimage. He didn’t seem convinced but I ordered him to go to sleep. We may be friends, but he is still a man-at-arms and I, a knight. He is the retainer and I am the master. Xavier obeyed me and fell asleep.


    Night gathered, and my watch began. The sky was crystal clear and star-speckled, and the moon shone like a giant pearl in the heavens. It was nothing like home, where fog and clouds were commonplace. I wrapped my cloak around my body. The guides were right, it was cold at night. I felt utterly alone. I shouldn’t have barked to Xavier. He has sacrificed much for me. Still, how can I ever tell him the truth? I have dragged him with me, at the end of the world, simply because I was too afraid to go alone.


    Hours passed. There was nothing, but grim silence all around. Nothing could be heard, save only a light desert breeze. My thoughts drifted back. Back to the Royaume, back to Elagnon. Was I homesick? No, my thoughts drifted back to Alexandrine. Why has she betrayed me? Could my brother be true? Was it all a scheme, orchestrated by my brother to get me out of his way? If so, Father could be in danger. No, impossible. Henry is too cowardly to do anything that far-fetched. But to get me out of the way? That, he would do. I wonder….


    A hand in my shoulder brought me back to the world of present. One of the guides had come to replace me. I immediately rose up, went in my tent by the campfire, and lay down. As sleepiness started to take over me, my thoughts still were of home, and of course of her. Always her.

    ------.------

    The first rays of sunlight appeared over the shifting sands of Syrianna’s desert. The four men were getting ready to depart. “We will arrive in Trident before midday, my lord” said to Gérard one of the turban-wearing guides with his odd, yet, funny accent as he strapped the reins on his camel. “Thank you.” answered the knight, and keen to initiate a conversation he asked “Where are you from?” The man frowned, though whether it was out of fear or irritation, Gérard couldn’t tell. “From Syrianna, my lord.” He said wearily.

    “You don’t look Christian.”

    “I am not Christian, my lord.”

    Gérard was dumbfounded. “But you serve the Holy Order, you can’t be Islamic.” He said. The guide seemed frightened. “I…my lord, the Grandmaster has given…” He paused, unsure if he should continue. “Go on.” Gérard encouraged him. The man coughed. “The Grandmaster has given permission to Islamics to settle, in the Order’s lands. Bae-Eden is sacred for us too, so he has allowed us to visit it for pilgrimage and if anyone wishes it, he or she can stay in the Order’s territory.” Gérard was thoroughly impressed. “I see. Let’s ride, shall we?” he said to the sweating guide.


    They reached the Trident a few hours later. The scenery was quite different as they got closer to the sea. The desert dunes gave was to palm trees and more fertile ground. The guides left the warriors a few hundred meters from the settlement’s palisade, despite Gérard’s offer to replenish their supplies. The two friends rode to the village. Two militiamen stood guard at the wooden gate. They crossed their spears as Gérard and Xavier tried to enter the village. “State your business, stranger!” said one of them, a boy no more than sixteen years old. Gérard got off his Palfrey, and stated blankly. “I am here to take command. Here is my grant of land, guard.” He offered the sealed paper to the guard. “My…my lord!” exclaimed the boy. “Wait here, my lord, I am going to call the mayor” he said, and ran inside the village. The other guard bowed his head and proclaimed “My lord.” A few minutes passed and the boy came back, an elder man running behind him. The elder man knelt before Gérard and Xavier as did the two guards. “My lords. I am Thomas Wenden, mayor to this community of a thousand souls. I bid you welcome to the Trident.” He said, panting and staring the dirt. “Rise” said Gérard, and the peasants obeyed his orders. The two men entered the village, and soon a crowd followed them cheering Gérard‘s name as Thomas showed them around the village.


    “This is your manor, my lord.” said the mayor, as they approached the large, fortified building built in a rocky elevation on a small cape at the village’s west side. A mail-clad man stood outside. “My lord” he said in a hoarse voice. “My name is William Ward, Captain of the previous lord’s host. We are twenty men-at-arms and seventy sergeants. At your service.” The knight smiled. “I am honoured, William Ward.” “My lord”, he uttered and returned to his duties Gérard and Xavier bode farewell to the mayor, and entered the manor’s fortified gates. They left their horses at the stable, where the previous owner had left three Coursers and several Palfreys and packhorses. Serfs immediately appeared to unburden the packhorses that had traveled with Gérard and Xavier all the way from Bae-Acre. The two men left the beasts in the care of the stable’s pages.


    As they entered the Manor’s great hall, the bailiff of the house came to greet them followed by two servants. “I am John Clarke, the manor’s bailiff. I, too bid you welcome, my lords” the middle-aged bearded man said. Another tour awaited the two warriors, this time around the manor. As they reached the balcony, John spoke “My lord. Trident is a hard-working community. The late lord, Geoffrey Mannering was fair in rule. I hope you prove the same, because the people of the village deserve it.”

    Gérard replied softly “I hope I will prove a just lord.” The answer appeared to please the bailiff. “Also, here in Syrianna, we use homing pigeons for message delivery.” He added “Since you are from the renowned House Châtillon, which hails from the Royaume, I suppose you know how that works.” Gérard nodded that he did, being too tired to talk. The bailiff smiled again. “One last thing, my Lord. You should add the cross somewhere on your coat of arms.” The knight was inclined to agree. “I will prepare some designs and I will show them to you.” said John and bowed leaving the two friends in the balcony. “So, we are here” muttered Gérard. Xavier laughed. “Indeed. And you are going to make crusaders out of us.”


    They sat in the balcony, engaged in idle conversation. Thankfully for Gérard, Xavier did not again pursue the matter of their sojourn.


    After the dinner, Gérard returned alone to the balcony. He sat on the chair and stared blandly at the horizon. He was now responsible for a thousand men, women and children. He hadn’t even met his men, or the village’s priest. The next months would be interesting, indeed, he pondered. But even after all this, the new responsibilities and the chances for redemption, his thoughts still returned to Elagnon, his home. Syrianna will never be my home…


    Interlude II: Messages/ A choice/ The march
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Eight months had passed since Gérard and Xavier arrived at the Trident. In that time, the knight had tried his best to improve the standards of living in the community. New buildings were constructed, making everyone’s life easier. The palisade was reinforced, a new anchorage replaced the old one and a warship of the Holy Order was permanently stationed there, as protection against the Vashta pirates that plagued the northern shore of Syrianna. Moreover, a dirt road was opened to Bae-Acre letting trade flow in the village.

    Xavier trained men in the use of the bow and the spear, and soon the village had a better organized and trained militia, with better equipment. The multitude of horses that Gérard had found in the Manor’s stables, meant that buying more was unnecessary. He also kept William Ward as captain of the host. Xavier had refused the honour because he had never lead men in battle. Ward’s experience would prove crucial, he reasoned, and the knight heeded his best friend’s words.
    In all, Gérard had managed to take advantage of the village’s hard-working populace and use it to their benefit and had proven to be a fair and just lord. Peace had apparently returned to his life.

    It was merely the calm before the storm. By the end of the eighth month, pigeons arrived, bearing messages. The first was a message from Elagnon. The other, was a message from Bae-Acre. The Order would go to war.


    ------.------


    I break the seal of the first message. It spoke of war. I am elated. War is where I will mortify my sins in the blood of the infidel. Redemption through annihilation. Mine or the enemy’s. But the second message is more important to me. It is because it’s from Elagnon.

    My hands are shaking. A message from home. HOME! I break the seal and unfurl the paper. My eyes water at what I read.

    My Lord,
    I have taken great pains and precaution so that this message is delivered to you and you alone. I used my contacts in the Kingdom of Heaven and found out that you are still alive. I thank God for that and hope that this message finds you in good health.

    The situation in Elagnon is…unpleasant to say the least. Your father’s health has deteriorated since the day you left, and gets worse little by little every day. Your brother now runs the Castle, and rules mercilessly with an iron fist. Executions and tortures are commonplace. Fear is his weapon. Lord Alderic is in reclusion refusing to see anyone but his “only son” as he now calls Henry.

    Lady Alexandrine also seems distant; her eyes filled with sorrow. She is paler and perhaps a bit unhealthy with bruises covering her features. I swear I can hear her screaming and wailing every night, when your bother visits her chambers, thus leading me believe that he is abusing and even violating her.

    My Lord, Elagnon needs you now more than ever. Your father needs you. If anyone can put an end to Henry’s madness that would be you. The people speak your name in reverent whispers in the streets praying that you return safe from your Pilgrimage to deliver them. I too pray for this.

    I know of your oaths and the shame you’ve wrought to your family, but I’ve found the courage to beg you to forget these and return home. If Henry does not give up his powers to you, we can organize a resistance, with support of the people and most of the military. I implore you Lord, forsake your oaths and return home. We need you.

    Yours Faithfully,

    Raymond Vangier, Captain of the Honour Guard.

    My home is in the hands of a tyrant. My people groaning beneath Henry’s heel. Alexandrine being violated by him. Unfathomable. I can’t believe it. My masochistic nature kicks in and I read the message again and again and again, until all I can feel is rage and hatred. Hatred, the purest sentiment a man can have. I will deliver my people.

    ------.------


    Xavier entered his lord’s room, only to find him packing up his things. “Mon seigneur?” he said. Gérard appeared oblivious to him. He picked up one of the papers on the desk “Are we going to war, sir?” he muttered reading the message’s contents. “No, my friend. We are going home.” answered Gérard firmly.
    Xavier was dumbstruck. “What? Lord Robert Agerton has summoned us!” he said. He grabbed Gérard from the shoulders, forced him to turn around and he shouted in his face. “Look at me! Look! What are you doing? Why do you want to go home? Why did you left Elagnon, anyway? Tell me! You owe me that much”
    Gérard sighed. It was unavoidable now. He sat on his chair, and told him everything. Xavier couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The knight showed him the message from Elagnon. “And you have condemned me to exile. Damn.” said the veteran his voice low, as he struggled to come to terms with the situation. Gérard continued packing his things up. “It’s not enough that you lost your honour in Elagnon. You wish to do so again?” growled Xavier. “You will leave, when your lord calls you? Do you have any honour left? Did you ever have? I am ashamed that I have ever taught you!” Gérard was broken. Never before had his friend talked to him like that. “You saw the message, Xavier. I need to go to my father, and my people.” Xavier burst in outrage. “You foolish child! These are your people now. The people of the Trident, not of Elagnon. Besides, this message could be a trap set by your brother. Damn you. Have you lost your senses?” “But Alexandrine…” Gérard managed to utter, before being interrupted by an enraged Xavier “What has this woman done to your mind? You have a duty! A duty to God and to your lord!” His face had turned red. “Do what you will, Gérard. I will stay here, with or without you. Dishonour yourself again, for all I care.” He said “Just know, that if you leave, you can never call me your friend again.” With these words Xavier turned and left.

    ------.------

    He is right…my God, what am I doing? I close the door to my room. The right decision is made inside me. Honour, duty and faith. These are the hallmarks of a pious man, a pious knight nonetheless.

    Many knights want help to be dressed for combat. I don’t, I prefer the silence so that I can concentrate for the coming battle.

    My armour was born, when the Royaume was born. Hauberk, chausses and mittens, the rings lovely fashioned by caring hands, and blessed by sacred oil, holy water and the hymns of the Ecclesiarchy. The coat of plates strapped into my chest that protected me from arrows, was designed incorporating the bitter experiences against the Avalonian longbows. I leave my greaves, pauldrons and vambraces behind, they would protect me, but the heat in the desert is terrible to burden myself with more armour. I drape my blue surcoat over the armour, a silver cross with a golden sea-horse at the center emblazoned on it.

    I strap my sword belt to my waist, and place the blade in the sheath, a sea-horse adorning its hilt. I am lucky to carry such a weapon in battle. The blade was forged in the earliest days of the Royaume, and has been wielded since by the heir of Castle Elagnon. It came to the possession of my family when we were given the fief. I should have left it behind, but I couldn’t bear myself to do it. I stole it, as I left.

    I grab my great helm from its stand and open the door. In the great hall, my men-at-arms are gathered, bedecked for war and awaiting my command. I see Xavier in the front ranks, a smile in his ragged face. He knew. The old bastard knew I would make the right decision My lips curl in a vicious smile. “Gentlemen…we are going to war!” I simply tell them.

    Within the hour all preparations were made. Bailiff John Clarke would rule at my absent, and command the militia forces. My sergeants were in marching formation in the village square and in front of them, my men-at-arms on their horses. At their head stand William Ward, Xavier and Bernard Adelen, my standard bearer. Our supply carts and the warhorses are on the middle of the column. As we march through the village the people wish us luck and pray for our safe return. Many offer us flowers. A child’s voice calls to me. “Crusader!” I stop my horse and turn to see a boy, rushing near me, grabbing my hand “Crusader, my lord, please take me with you.” I smile at him “Where I am going, is no place for children.” The boy seems sad “But you need to stay here and protect the village. I consider you responsible for the safety of your family.” I say kindly to him. His face turns from sorrowful to happy. “I will, my lord” he says beaming with pride. “Godspeed, Crusader!” he shouts. I smile. Clever boy. William Ward and Bernard Adelen march to my side. They know where the army of God will meet. In a place called Thorns. It’s time to meet destiny….



    Updates as of now will be in the latest posts, I can't upload them here.
    Last edited by Sanguinary Guardian; May 14, 2012 at 12:47 PM.




    H ΕΛΛΑΔΑ κι ο ΕΛΛΗΝΙΣΜΟΣ είναι αξίες ιερότερες από οποιαδήποτε ειρήνη!

    Despite all we have lost so far, our fire still burns...

  2. #2
    Daraunon's Avatar Senator
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Not a bad start,the BC's are pretty rare to see in FFs,so I'm looking forward to see how this will go on. And of course,have some +rep.

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    Sanguinary Guardian's Avatar Primicerius
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Quote Originally Posted by Daraunon View Post
    Not a bad start,the BC's are pretty rare to see in FFs,so I'm looking forward to see how this will go on. And of course,have some +rep.
    Thank you my friend. Yeah the BC are not very regularly featured, perhaps because they are considered to be too...vanilla for a lack of a better word. That's why I chose them over Avalon (which was my first choice, TBH). I will try to have more ready in the weekend.




    H ΕΛΛΑΔΑ κι ο ΕΛΛΗΝΙΣΜΟΣ είναι αξίες ιερότερες από οποιαδήποτε ειρήνη!

    Despite all we have lost so far, our fire still burns...

  4. #4
    The Holy Pilgrim's Avatar In Memory of Blackomur
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    I do hope you press on, good sir. In the name of the Kingdom of the Good Knights, I rep you.

  5. #5
    Sanguinary Guardian's Avatar Primicerius
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Quote Originally Posted by The Holy Pilgrim View Post
    I do hope you press on, good sir. In the name of the Kingdom of the Good Knights, I rep you.
    Thank you THP, I will rep ya back when I can! Yes, I will make part 1 in the weekend! Stay tuned, people,
    Gérard's story as a Bon Chevalier, and the reasons of his exile are about to be told.
    Last edited by Sanguinary Guardian; August 05, 2011 at 06:21 PM.




    H ΕΛΛΑΔΑ κι ο ΕΛΛΗΝΙΣΜΟΣ είναι αξίες ιερότερες από οποιαδήποτε ειρήνη!

    Despite all we have lost so far, our fire still burns...

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    Sanguinary Guardian's Avatar Primicerius
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Ok people, it's not so much of part 1, as I promised, but a bit of back story focusing on Gérard, and another character, as well as a small teaser on what is to come. Enjoy, and rest assured that revelations are coming

    -UPDATED FIRST POST-

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    For those who wonder, the prayer is "Hail Mary", in French translation.
    Last edited by Sanguinary Guardian; August 10, 2011 at 04:55 AM.




    H ΕΛΛΑΔΑ κι ο ΕΛΛΗΝΙΣΜΟΣ είναι αξίες ιερότερες από οποιαδήποτε ειρήνη!

    Despite all we have lost so far, our fire still burns...

  7. #7
    Daraunon's Avatar Senator
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Good,I'd have liked to read more,but I guess that can't be helped.

    I liked the little exchange about Xavier's fingers,it was funny in a strange sort of way.

    Now make sure to give us the next part,ok?

  8. #8
    Sanguinary Guardian's Avatar Primicerius
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Quote Originally Posted by Daraunon View Post
    Good,I'd have liked to read more,but I guess that can't be helped.
    I guess, I am a slow writer It is small, because it's some short of interlude for the main part 1 that I am writing now.

    Quote Originally Posted by Daraunon View Post
    I liked the little exchange about Xavier's fingers,it was funny in a strange sort of way.
    Glad you liked it, I too thought it was a bit creepy but it came out natural. I think that having the Master-Apprentice relationship, as well as saving one another in several occasions, is the only way that there would be such a barter between a Noble and a Man-at-arms.


    Quote Originally Posted by Daraunon View Post
    Now make sure to give us the next part,ok?
    I will, don't worry. It's going to be good (and dirty), I promise.
    Last edited by Sanguinary Guardian; August 08, 2011 at 07:58 PM.




    H ΕΛΛΑΔΑ κι ο ΕΛΛΗΝΙΣΜΟΣ είναι αξίες ιερότερες από οποιαδήποτε ειρήνη!

    Despite all we have lost so far, our fire still burns...

  9. #9
    Borissomeone's Avatar Citizen
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Very nice so far, I too liked the bit about the fingers. Had a quiet laugh at my desk and got a few odd looks from my fellow workers. + rep

    Under the Patronage of TheFirstONeill.

  10. #10
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Quote Originally Posted by Borissomeone View Post
    Very nice so far, I too liked the bit about the fingers. Had a quiet laugh at my desk and got a few odd looks from my fellow workers. + rep
    Why, thank you, master story-teller! Stay tuned!




    H ΕΛΛΑΔΑ κι ο ΕΛΛΗΝΙΣΜΟΣ είναι αξίες ιερότερες από οποιαδήποτε ειρήνη!

    Despite all we have lost so far, our fire still burns...

  11. #11
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Chapter I Part I is up, people! I changed the name of the Weapons-Master part to Interlude, because it was just that.
    Last edited by Sanguinary Guardian; August 09, 2011 at 05:34 PM.




    H ΕΛΛΑΔΑ κι ο ΕΛΛΗΝΙΣΜΟΣ είναι αξίες ιερότερες από οποιαδήποτε ειρήνη!

    Despite all we have lost so far, our fire still burns...

  12. #12
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    A good read and an interesting style flicking for first to third as you did, Keep it up and I would rep you again but must spread it around a little, soon, it will come soon.

    Under the Patronage of TheFirstONeill.

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    Sanguinary Guardian's Avatar Primicerius
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Quote Originally Posted by Borissomeone View Post
    A good read and an interesting style flicking for first to third as you did, Keep it up and I would rep you again but must spread it around a little, soon, it will come soon.
    Thank you again, I am glad you like it.




    H ΕΛΛΑΔΑ κι ο ΕΛΛΗΝΙΣΜΟΣ είναι αξίες ιερότερες από οποιαδήποτε ειρήνη!

    Despite all we have lost so far, our fire still burns...

  14. #14
    Sanguinary Guardian's Avatar Primicerius
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Ok people, I am going to leave for vacations, and I haven't manage to get part II ready. I will finish it as soon as I return (in a week or so). Again, thanks for reading my FF.




    H ΕΛΛΑΔΑ κι ο ΕΛΛΗΝΙΣΜΟΣ είναι αξίες ιερότερες από οποιαδήποτε ειρήνη!

    Despite all we have lost so far, our fire still burns...

  15. #15
    Borissomeone's Avatar Citizen
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Quote Originally Posted by Sanguinary Guardian View Post
    Ok people, I am going to leave for vacations, and I haven't manage to get part II ready. I will finish it as soon as I return (in a week or so). Again, thanks for reading my FF.
    Enjoy yourself. Looking forward to the next part.

    Under the Patronage of TheFirstONeill.

  16. #16
    Sanguinary Guardian's Avatar Primicerius
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Next part is up people, if a little delayed. Enjoy!




    H ΕΛΛΑΔΑ κι ο ΕΛΛΗΝΙΣΜΟΣ είναι αξίες ιερότερες από οποιαδήποτε ειρήνη!

    Despite all we have lost so far, our fire still burns...

  17. #17
    Borissomeone's Avatar Citizen
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Well worth the wait. I was caught from the beginning. You have a nice descriptive stlye of writing, this really helped set the mood for the coming part. I await the next update + rep

    Under the Patronage of TheFirstONeill.

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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Quote Originally Posted by Borissomeone View Post
    Well worth the wait. I was caught from the beginning. You have a nice descriptive stlye of writing, this really helped set the mood for the coming part. I await the next update + rep
    Thank you, my friend! The next part will probably be the last of the first chapter and the last featuring the Bons Chevaliers (hope you liked my vision of them). Afterwards it will all be Pale Knights and Muslims (or will it?)!




    H ΕΛΛΑΔΑ κι ο ΕΛΛΗΝΙΣΜΟΣ είναι αξίες ιερότερες από οποιαδήποτε ειρήνη!

    Despite all we have lost so far, our fire still burns...

  19. #19
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Quote Originally Posted by Sanguinary Guardian View Post
    Thank you, my friend! The next part will probably be the last of the first chapter and the last featuring the Bons Chevaliers (hope you liked my vision of them). Afterwards it will all be Pale Knights and Muslims (or will it?)!
    Keep it coming friend, and yes the picture you paint with your words is quite suitable for the Bons Chevaliers. Hmmm Pale Knights...I like.

    Under the Patronage of TheFirstONeill.

  20. #20
    Sanguinary Guardian's Avatar Primicerius
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    Default Re: Sanguinary Guardian's NEW FF: Sojourn

    Chapter 1 is complete people (see updated first post). Enjoy, and as always, comments and criticism are welcome!
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    I tried my best with the French translation of the Sacrament of Penance, feel free to correct me, if I have made any mistakes
    Last edited by Sanguinary Guardian; September 05, 2011 at 10:07 AM.




    H ΕΛΛΑΔΑ κι ο ΕΛΛΗΝΙΣΜΟΣ είναι αξίες ιερότερες από οποιαδήποτε ειρήνη!

    Despite all we have lost so far, our fire still burns...

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