Warhammer Fantasy: Honor is all, Chivalry is all (Bretonnia CK2)
- Thread starter Voikirium
- Start date
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
Bad Mistakes
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Bad Mistakes
(Early 1445)
Bohemond rode through the streets, great warhorse clopping over the stone streets. The masses looked upon him with a mixture of trepidation and hate, even as the steel clad warrior brushed a speck of dust from his cloak. He faintly whistled under his breath.
Good. True nobility ought be detested by those lesser than it.
And there was very little lesser than the foul pit around him.
Leather clad warriors practiced with knife and sword, stabbing and killing and murdering. Before them, a beast, crafted of hybrid between a snake and a man drove these marauders to perfection. He had skin of purple scales broken by black bands, each interspersed on his bare limbs; and tall and long and graceful he seemed to flow through the air like a blur.
Bohemond hoisted his mace as the gates opened by a will unseen. The snake beastmen flitted his eyes over to the knightly interloper, before grinning-- showing silver fangs.
"Purple Snake Befouling The World! I challenge you, for you've stolen something of my Lady's!"
The Snake waved its hand-- and a moment later a poison dart punched through his armor.
"Cheating...cur."
He fell to the ground, landing hard on the stone even as Blaze drew up-- then a second later fell silent as a dart struck horseflesh.
"Grab him, take him to the plinth. The Prince will be much pleased to have one such as him-"
Before the Snake could continue, there was an explosion at the walls, and the whole world shook. Three bodies landed, steaming-- and a moment later a dark blur landed on the ground before him. She-- for they were a she-- was cloaked in darkness, robes crafted of strange hides deflecting blows, as did the great sword she bore.
The whole of the compound swarmed to strike her-- but she was dark, and terrible, and her blade burnt with magics strange to the eye of Bohemond. And thus it was that the Snake was distracted, his gaze drawn from sacrifice to her.
But even as those two-- and the rest of the jungle compound-- fought in a collision of sparks and steel and death, one of the adherents walked over to Bohemond slowly, eagerly, cruel smile on his face. He picked up Bohemond's mace from the ground.
He walked to the Errant, gripping the steel and mahogany. His form, large and raised the mace high, and blotted out the sun. Then with aching slowness, brought it down.
Time seemed to slow as the steel fell. Bohemond could count the beads of sweat falling down his forehead, could see the cuts on his body, could hear the whistle of his own weapon as it was forced to betray him. There was a tingling in his arm even as he willed it to move, to ignore the poison--
Then with an ungainly jerk, he managed to grip the steel head just before it smashed into his face-- he could count the spikes on it, see the faint imperfections of the new form of forging.
"What?"
"Wyvern...chain..."
Yanking, he drew the cultist near-- then with a crash, brought his hand down on the man's head.
Even as the marauder fell, Bohemond was rising, gripping his mace again and grabbing his shield.
Letting out a roar, the Beastslayer charged-- and whirling mace about to present the haft and slamming the shield into flesh, left a pile of unconscious men before him; his pride would accept nothing more.
Finally, he and the girl alike stood before the Snake. Reaching to his belt, the beastman pulled out a knife, and then lunged to the attack-- his blade flashing towards the girl. Just before it could split her, a steel shield knocked it off course, and in the surprise the girl slid her sword through the Snakeman's arm, cutting off his hand.
It hissed-- and then was embattled by both Bohemond and the girl.
Where he struck low, she struck high; where she high, he was low; and together the two presented a hurricane of steel and maces and swords. His flesh was parted, his scales though as steel weak to the magics of the blade and of the power behind the mace.
In short order the two had him pinned before the wall. The Knight held his mace and shield alike wearily, barred before his body like a wall; and she held her blade to the ground, that she might gather power in the back-swing.
Before the two could strike, a great burst of flames consumed the snake-- and he laughed as he was taken far, far away, escaping the two warriors.
The Bretonnian and the Indan shared a common, long suffering look as they both stormed and raged against the bullshit of magic internally.
"Bohemond of Bastonne. He stole something that belongs to the kingdom."
"Namrata of the City of Spires. He killed my brother."
And with that the two set out, to slay the beast.
(Early 1445)
Bohemond rode through the streets, great warhorse clopping over the stone streets. The masses looked upon him with a mixture of trepidation and hate, even as the steel clad warrior brushed a speck of dust from his cloak. He faintly whistled under his breath.
Good. True nobility ought be detested by those lesser than it.
And there was very little lesser than the foul pit around him.
Leather clad warriors practiced with knife and sword, stabbing and killing and murdering. Before them, a beast, crafted of hybrid between a snake and a man drove these marauders to perfection. He had skin of purple scales broken by black bands, each interspersed on his bare limbs; and tall and long and graceful he seemed to flow through the air like a blur.
Bohemond hoisted his mace as the gates opened by a will unseen. The snake beastmen flitted his eyes over to the knightly interloper, before grinning-- showing silver fangs.
"Purple Snake Befouling The World! I challenge you, for you've stolen something of my Lady's!"
The Snake waved its hand-- and a moment later a poison dart punched through his armor.
"Cheating...cur."
He fell to the ground, landing hard on the stone even as Blaze drew up-- then a second later fell silent as a dart struck horseflesh.
"Grab him, take him to the plinth. The Prince will be much pleased to have one such as him-"
Before the Snake could continue, there was an explosion at the walls, and the whole world shook. Three bodies landed, steaming-- and a moment later a dark blur landed on the ground before him. She-- for they were a she-- was cloaked in darkness, robes crafted of strange hides deflecting blows, as did the great sword she bore.
The whole of the compound swarmed to strike her-- but she was dark, and terrible, and her blade burnt with magics strange to the eye of Bohemond. And thus it was that the Snake was distracted, his gaze drawn from sacrifice to her.
But even as those two-- and the rest of the jungle compound-- fought in a collision of sparks and steel and death, one of the adherents walked over to Bohemond slowly, eagerly, cruel smile on his face. He picked up Bohemond's mace from the ground.
He walked to the Errant, gripping the steel and mahogany. His form, large and raised the mace high, and blotted out the sun. Then with aching slowness, brought it down.
Time seemed to slow as the steel fell. Bohemond could count the beads of sweat falling down his forehead, could see the cuts on his body, could hear the whistle of his own weapon as it was forced to betray him. There was a tingling in his arm even as he willed it to move, to ignore the poison--
Then with an ungainly jerk, he managed to grip the steel head just before it smashed into his face-- he could count the spikes on it, see the faint imperfections of the new form of forging.
"What?"
"Wyvern...chain..."
Yanking, he drew the cultist near-- then with a crash, brought his hand down on the man's head.
Even as the marauder fell, Bohemond was rising, gripping his mace again and grabbing his shield.
Letting out a roar, the Beastslayer charged-- and whirling mace about to present the haft and slamming the shield into flesh, left a pile of unconscious men before him; his pride would accept nothing more.
Finally, he and the girl alike stood before the Snake. Reaching to his belt, the beastman pulled out a knife, and then lunged to the attack-- his blade flashing towards the girl. Just before it could split her, a steel shield knocked it off course, and in the surprise the girl slid her sword through the Snakeman's arm, cutting off his hand.
It hissed-- and then was embattled by both Bohemond and the girl.
Where he struck low, she struck high; where she high, he was low; and together the two presented a hurricane of steel and maces and swords. His flesh was parted, his scales though as steel weak to the magics of the blade and of the power behind the mace.
In short order the two had him pinned before the wall. The Knight held his mace and shield alike wearily, barred before his body like a wall; and she held her blade to the ground, that she might gather power in the back-swing.
Before the two could strike, a great burst of flames consumed the snake-- and he laughed as he was taken far, far away, escaping the two warriors.
The Bretonnian and the Indan shared a common, long suffering look as they both stormed and raged against the bullshit of magic internally.
"Bohemond of Bastonne. He stole something that belongs to the kingdom."
"Namrata of the City of Spires. He killed my brother."
And with that the two set out, to slay the beast.
Last edited:
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
you stole
you've stolen/you have stolen
adherents
something something love at first sight
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I clearly need a beta or something, because I'm apparently incapable of writing like a human being.
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
You are writing like a human being, that's the problem.
Human's make mistakes.
- Location
- Australia
That was on purpose.
Duke Kai
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Duke Kai
"I'll tell you what's unnatural, human- that damn Knight shrugged off the glare of a full coven, then beat them all. I don't know where Cassandra found him, but he's no man of the Earth."
-Lady Jehanne of the Shadow
(Source)
The land of Mousillon is a land besieged by darkness, and foul, foul things. The dead do not rest easy, the living quake in fear-- and even after the Grand Crusade, there are vampires...they do not walk so openly as they once did in their foul pride, but they do yet exist; and where they have been driven away entirely, the wounds they have inflicted survive.
But there is hope. There is always hope, if distant hope.
Duke Kai was once little more than a pure Knight Errant, an oddity in those lands-- but not capable of cleansing Mousillon. But then, one dark and stormy night, as he prayed to the Lady, in his own words:
"The Spirit of Landuin appeared to me, as though a dream; and his face was stormy with wrath at the Vampires who sullied it, and he was filled with hate at how decadent and sullied the Knights of the land grew. And so he raised his hand, and pointed to the rising sun, and he spoke- 'Go there, and salvation waits.' Then he disappeared back to rest with the Lady."
And so the Duke rode out in full panoply of war; and for twelve days and thirteen nights he did not rest, nor slow, nor falter; and then, just as he seemed about to keel over, on the thirteenth day, as the sun cleared the horizon and great light burst through the cover of the swamp, he saw it: the Heraldry of Landuin.
Gripping it in his hand, the Knight rode out, and himself began a one man war against the Vampires, slaying and maiming all the tainted he came across; and in his wake, knights were reminded of their duty.
And so it was that he eventually came to the attention of the now-dead Enchantress Cassandra, long may she rest with the Lady; and he rode, gripping the banner, with her to the battle that saw her dead; and took the city, and cleansed it of evil.
Now the Duke's days are filled with bringing those who have fed upon the suffering of others to justice. To see his onyx armor upon the horizon is to see fire-- for the vampires hate to look upon him, and knights of fell intention break down in dread to see him riding upon his steed.
To insure justice is seen to, and all those who would dirty Mousillon once more are dislodged like a tick from a horse, he has offered Les Lettres Du Duc-- given his full support and noble backing to any Herrimault who will help him see good done. This is a measure beloved by the people and the True Knights of Mousillon alike-- for they both would see the dark cowards that hide in the swamp undone.
And thus it is that the new wounds of Bretonnia are cleansed of filth, much as one cleanses the wounds after surgery.
"I'll tell you what's unnatural, human- that damn Knight shrugged off the glare of a full coven, then beat them all. I don't know where Cassandra found him, but he's no man of the Earth."
-Lady Jehanne of the Shadow
(Source)
The land of Mousillon is a land besieged by darkness, and foul, foul things. The dead do not rest easy, the living quake in fear-- and even after the Grand Crusade, there are vampires...they do not walk so openly as they once did in their foul pride, but they do yet exist; and where they have been driven away entirely, the wounds they have inflicted survive.
But there is hope. There is always hope, if distant hope.
Duke Kai was once little more than a pure Knight Errant, an oddity in those lands-- but not capable of cleansing Mousillon. But then, one dark and stormy night, as he prayed to the Lady, in his own words:
"The Spirit of Landuin appeared to me, as though a dream; and his face was stormy with wrath at the Vampires who sullied it, and he was filled with hate at how decadent and sullied the Knights of the land grew. And so he raised his hand, and pointed to the rising sun, and he spoke- 'Go there, and salvation waits.' Then he disappeared back to rest with the Lady."
And so the Duke rode out in full panoply of war; and for twelve days and thirteen nights he did not rest, nor slow, nor falter; and then, just as he seemed about to keel over, on the thirteenth day, as the sun cleared the horizon and great light burst through the cover of the swamp, he saw it: the Heraldry of Landuin.
Gripping it in his hand, the Knight rode out, and himself began a one man war against the Vampires, slaying and maiming all the tainted he came across; and in his wake, knights were reminded of their duty.
And so it was that he eventually came to the attention of the now-dead Enchantress Cassandra, long may she rest with the Lady; and he rode, gripping the banner, with her to the battle that saw her dead; and took the city, and cleansed it of evil.
Now the Duke's days are filled with bringing those who have fed upon the suffering of others to justice. To see his onyx armor upon the horizon is to see fire-- for the vampires hate to look upon him, and knights of fell intention break down in dread to see him riding upon his steed.
To insure justice is seen to, and all those who would dirty Mousillon once more are dislodged like a tick from a horse, he has offered Les Lettres Du Duc-- given his full support and noble backing to any Herrimault who will help him see good done. This is a measure beloved by the people and the True Knights of Mousillon alike-- for they both would see the dark cowards that hide in the swamp undone.
And thus it is that the new wounds of Bretonnia are cleansed of filth, much as one cleanses the wounds after surgery.
Last edited:
Say @Voikirium what would the new duke of Mousillon do about a vampire who is a good lord? That's technically possible if unlikely.
ganonso
Compulsive Quest Starter
- Location
- PACA France
Vlad Von Carstein says hi, he wants to point he was actually better than any of the living nobles of the province and if he erred it was in giving the Blood Kiss to some who were definitively unworthy of it.
Also I'm sad this Kai has not a sharp tongue and wit. Gotta respect your classics
- Location
- Sweden
To be fair, that tells you more about the von Draks then it does about Vlad.
- Location
- West Michigan
In context, he was arguably better than all of the living Imperial pretenders of his era too, and there was no reason why his Anti-Chaos masterplan wouldn't have worked.
Shame he had to be such a supervillain about it, though.
- Location
- USA
Not sure if typo or pun...
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Probably give them the honor of death in a duel instead of just having Herrimaults armed with Arrows of the Water of Death deal with him.
He had best hope he never encounters Abhorash then.
When you meet The Blood Dragon you either accept that being undead doesn't make him evil or you attack him and die pitifully.
- Location
- West Michigan
What about a vampire lord who continues to worship The Lady despite his nature, out of earnest appreciation for Her hard work in keeping the realm safe from Chaos and greenskins and Druchii and all the other nasties? (and also some Pascalian "don't smite me please" logic)
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
He really doesn't like Vampires-- but he is capable of prioritization; thus any traveler, even one he strongly suspected was a vampire, would be safe under the general logic of "Holy shit do we have more important things to do, like smash down all the a-holes that are burning churches and committing crimes against humanity", unless they make themselves a problem.
Lords are different because, well, letting a vampire rule the Lady's lands is a very different thing from just not hunting them down the second they touch his soil.
Then he'd still do it, and feel he was doing them a favor-- after all, while the Lady doesn't have the same anti-Vampire effects as Sigmar, all of her greatest sites and artifacts are fonts of Ghyran, which does real bad shit to vampires, meaning they can't go to her and pray or be near Her on Earth; and with his blade, forged in the Waters of Death as it is, they might get to go to the Lady.
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
Unless I'm missing it, his opinion of us is not on the front page.
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I have edited it in.
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
Why does he hate our wife so much?
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Because she reminds him-- strongly-- of Vampires.
Well that's.... shallow and not very clever of him.
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Yes.
He's a good man, and a good knight; but even good men and good knights can occasionally have petty, stupid reasons for not liking people.