Post by Wargamer on Jun 8, 2005 5:16:31 GMT -5
The Bretonnian steeds trotted into the stables of the Dragon Knight order.
The riders dismounted, handing their reigns to waiting stable-hands as four Evadian Knights approached. The lead Bretonnian removed his helmet, and extended a hand in greeting.
“I am Cirk Elequois, Paladin of Carcassonne.”<br>The Evadian nodded and accepted the hand, “Meras, Baron of the Dragon Knights.”<br>Cirk turned to his companions, “and these are Sir Poiran, Sir Vasconne, Sir Allon, all knights of The Realm, and young Sir Luin, an Errant.”<br>“A pleasure. Please come with me, I will show you around.”<br>
“The ranks of the Evadian Knights are slightly different to those of Bretonnia,” Meras explained as they walked, “The lowest rank is Errant, but this is not quite the position you know. An Evadian Errant is a knight charged with service to the Order, and they remain here, or at one of our garrison points, until called to war. Next are the Questors, who travel the land seeking battle and glory. Paladins are commanders, charged with gathering the armies, and the Barons command the Order as a whole.”<br>“So if your Errants are alike our Realm Knights, then how do your young Knights earn their knighthood?” Vasconne asked.
“Simple,” Meras replied, “All Evadians undertake a trial known as Earning the Colours. It’s usually done in the early teens, thirteen to fifteen. Combat is the most common method, but there are others. Warriors who prove themselves will be accepted into the Men At Arms. Those who then show they have what it takes to become proper knights will become Errants.”<br>Sir Luin paused, “you mean a peasant could become a Knight?”<br>Meras turned around and smiled, “I do, lad. I was born and raised in the fields south of this city. Now I stand guarding it with thirty-thousand men under my command. Evadia is a land of the sword, boy, and we believe there’s more to being a warrior than birth. To be a Knight in our land means giving up everything to defends its people. I gave up my family home, my friends, everything. For ten years I never left this order save when battle called me, and I never saw my children grow… but I knew what it meant to be a Knight, and I would do it all again and more.”<br>
The Knights had entered a long, gently curving corridor, lined either side with small rooms. Each room was simply outfitted with a bed, storage for clothes, weapons and armour, a table and desk, a bowl for washing in, a mirror and a sharp razor. Most doors sported a heraldry on them.
“These are the Errant Quarters. The Questors have larger rooms higher up in the building, then Paladins, then Barons. Sir Cirk will have accommodation further up; the rest of you will be billeted here.”<br>Meras picked out four empty rooms close together, “the lavatories are further down the hall, and that doorway there leads to the stairs. I’ll have a boy sent to show you the way to the baths and dining halls. It may be quite confusing at first, but you’ll soon find your way around. Dinner will be served in an hour, so that should give you time to arrange your belongings…” Meras looked over at Luin, and suddenly seemed to remember something, “Oh yes, and the dorms are mixed. No sneaking into a ladies room after dark m’lad.” He gave the young Bretonnian a playful elbow in the chest, and escorted Cirk towards the stairs.
Sir Allon was happy. There was something about this place that appealed to him. Back home, he had a large room decorated with silk and tapestries, here he lived in a cell with only his armour and an icon of the Lady to lighten the simplicity. He liked the cell, it made him feel humble, and humility was an ideal a Knight of the Lady should always have.
The idea of female knights had come as something of a shock. However, Allon was not about to make himself look a fool, and made a point of treating them like everyone else. He’d already gotten to know several Errants, who regarded him with a mix of amusement and uncertainty.
Somewhere, bells began to ring. A young boy of ten came to his chamber and asked to lead Sir Allon to the dining hall. Allon followed, and was led to a large, windowless circular chamber lit by countless torches and candles. There was a large hole in the ceiling, and a mechanical whomp-whomp sound echoed from it.
“It’s the air fan,” someone explained when he caught Allon staring, “this room is underground, so we had the Dwarves build this. It sucks the stale air out of the room. It’s all powered by water apparently.”<br>“Fascinating… forgive me, for I have not introduced myself. Sir Allon… I suppose I’m an Errant for as long as I’m here.”<br>The man nodded, “Thor. Just for future reference, not many people around here use ‘Sir’. We’re all ‘Sirs’ here, save the Barons, they’re ‘Lord’.”<br>“Thank you, I shall remember that.”<br>“Well there’s your friends… bring them over, you can sit at our table and tell us of your land. We’ve got salted pork, roasted potatoes, carrots and turnips… and lots of beer to wash it down with.”<br>
The evening passed well. They ate and drank and talked, and afterwards retired to a brightly-lit common room to talk further.
“Tell me, Thor, how long have you served this Order?”<br>“Eight years all told. Joined at thirteen, was a Man At Arms until seventeen, been an Errant since then. My cousin’s ruler of the Atlas Order, but his is the Bloodline that bears rights there, so I had to try elsewhere. I’d wanted to be part of the White Tigers, they’re a new Order, always crusading as the new boys do, but I missed the boat by a day. Fortunately, the Dragon Order took me in.”<br>“And have you not aspired to become a Questor?”<br>Thor paused, resting back in the thick leather of the chair, “not really… I’m content with my lot. The Order gives me bed and board… plus enough money to get me by and plenty to keep me busy. I’ve got three children, all healthy and the eldest wants to be a Templar. Nothing I want really… sure there’s glory to earn riding off to battle, but I’m content to march at the Order’s call, and fight for my people when they need me. Besides, I don’t have what it takes to command, and Paladins need command skills. How about you Allon, what do you aspire to?”<br>Allon smiled, “I dream of seeing the Lady, and drinking from the Grail.”<br>Thor laughed, “a fine ambition! I’ve even known a few Evadians go for such a quest! Well, whenever it is you do it, may you succeed.”<br>
The next morning, the Bretonnians were given their routines. Most of it was weapons training, though time was given to horseback combat and other past-times. Luin also had time set aside for study.
The riders dismounted, handing their reigns to waiting stable-hands as four Evadian Knights approached. The lead Bretonnian removed his helmet, and extended a hand in greeting.
“I am Cirk Elequois, Paladin of Carcassonne.”<br>The Evadian nodded and accepted the hand, “Meras, Baron of the Dragon Knights.”<br>Cirk turned to his companions, “and these are Sir Poiran, Sir Vasconne, Sir Allon, all knights of The Realm, and young Sir Luin, an Errant.”<br>“A pleasure. Please come with me, I will show you around.”<br>
“The ranks of the Evadian Knights are slightly different to those of Bretonnia,” Meras explained as they walked, “The lowest rank is Errant, but this is not quite the position you know. An Evadian Errant is a knight charged with service to the Order, and they remain here, or at one of our garrison points, until called to war. Next are the Questors, who travel the land seeking battle and glory. Paladins are commanders, charged with gathering the armies, and the Barons command the Order as a whole.”<br>“So if your Errants are alike our Realm Knights, then how do your young Knights earn their knighthood?” Vasconne asked.
“Simple,” Meras replied, “All Evadians undertake a trial known as Earning the Colours. It’s usually done in the early teens, thirteen to fifteen. Combat is the most common method, but there are others. Warriors who prove themselves will be accepted into the Men At Arms. Those who then show they have what it takes to become proper knights will become Errants.”<br>Sir Luin paused, “you mean a peasant could become a Knight?”<br>Meras turned around and smiled, “I do, lad. I was born and raised in the fields south of this city. Now I stand guarding it with thirty-thousand men under my command. Evadia is a land of the sword, boy, and we believe there’s more to being a warrior than birth. To be a Knight in our land means giving up everything to defends its people. I gave up my family home, my friends, everything. For ten years I never left this order save when battle called me, and I never saw my children grow… but I knew what it meant to be a Knight, and I would do it all again and more.”<br>
The Knights had entered a long, gently curving corridor, lined either side with small rooms. Each room was simply outfitted with a bed, storage for clothes, weapons and armour, a table and desk, a bowl for washing in, a mirror and a sharp razor. Most doors sported a heraldry on them.
“These are the Errant Quarters. The Questors have larger rooms higher up in the building, then Paladins, then Barons. Sir Cirk will have accommodation further up; the rest of you will be billeted here.”<br>Meras picked out four empty rooms close together, “the lavatories are further down the hall, and that doorway there leads to the stairs. I’ll have a boy sent to show you the way to the baths and dining halls. It may be quite confusing at first, but you’ll soon find your way around. Dinner will be served in an hour, so that should give you time to arrange your belongings…” Meras looked over at Luin, and suddenly seemed to remember something, “Oh yes, and the dorms are mixed. No sneaking into a ladies room after dark m’lad.” He gave the young Bretonnian a playful elbow in the chest, and escorted Cirk towards the stairs.
* * *
Sir Allon was happy. There was something about this place that appealed to him. Back home, he had a large room decorated with silk and tapestries, here he lived in a cell with only his armour and an icon of the Lady to lighten the simplicity. He liked the cell, it made him feel humble, and humility was an ideal a Knight of the Lady should always have.
The idea of female knights had come as something of a shock. However, Allon was not about to make himself look a fool, and made a point of treating them like everyone else. He’d already gotten to know several Errants, who regarded him with a mix of amusement and uncertainty.
Somewhere, bells began to ring. A young boy of ten came to his chamber and asked to lead Sir Allon to the dining hall. Allon followed, and was led to a large, windowless circular chamber lit by countless torches and candles. There was a large hole in the ceiling, and a mechanical whomp-whomp sound echoed from it.
“It’s the air fan,” someone explained when he caught Allon staring, “this room is underground, so we had the Dwarves build this. It sucks the stale air out of the room. It’s all powered by water apparently.”<br>“Fascinating… forgive me, for I have not introduced myself. Sir Allon… I suppose I’m an Errant for as long as I’m here.”<br>The man nodded, “Thor. Just for future reference, not many people around here use ‘Sir’. We’re all ‘Sirs’ here, save the Barons, they’re ‘Lord’.”<br>“Thank you, I shall remember that.”<br>“Well there’s your friends… bring them over, you can sit at our table and tell us of your land. We’ve got salted pork, roasted potatoes, carrots and turnips… and lots of beer to wash it down with.”<br>
The evening passed well. They ate and drank and talked, and afterwards retired to a brightly-lit common room to talk further.
“Tell me, Thor, how long have you served this Order?”<br>“Eight years all told. Joined at thirteen, was a Man At Arms until seventeen, been an Errant since then. My cousin’s ruler of the Atlas Order, but his is the Bloodline that bears rights there, so I had to try elsewhere. I’d wanted to be part of the White Tigers, they’re a new Order, always crusading as the new boys do, but I missed the boat by a day. Fortunately, the Dragon Order took me in.”<br>“And have you not aspired to become a Questor?”<br>Thor paused, resting back in the thick leather of the chair, “not really… I’m content with my lot. The Order gives me bed and board… plus enough money to get me by and plenty to keep me busy. I’ve got three children, all healthy and the eldest wants to be a Templar. Nothing I want really… sure there’s glory to earn riding off to battle, but I’m content to march at the Order’s call, and fight for my people when they need me. Besides, I don’t have what it takes to command, and Paladins need command skills. How about you Allon, what do you aspire to?”<br>Allon smiled, “I dream of seeing the Lady, and drinking from the Grail.”<br>Thor laughed, “a fine ambition! I’ve even known a few Evadians go for such a quest! Well, whenever it is you do it, may you succeed.”<br>
The next morning, the Bretonnians were given their routines. Most of it was weapons training, though time was given to horseback combat and other past-times. Luin also had time set aside for study.