The Sons of Shadow

Greetings my brothers (and sisters)! This will be my first Storybook, so I hope you'll enjoy it.
Basically, as you can deduce from the titlevand the slogan , this is about the old fight between the Templars and the Assassins. (If you've played the games or tge books of Assassin's Creed, you'll love this.)
The tale begins in medieval Europe, during the hundred year war's final stage. The almighty Templars are looking for a First civilization site, known as the Pavilion. It is said that by using this building, one could transport anything, and anyone, anywhere in the world. It is up to the Assassins to put an end to their plotting, but with betrayal never to far behind, there is no one you can trust.
Step into this tale as either a Templar, Assassin or Neutral party and watch as the drama unfolds
Character slots:

Spoiler

Templars:
Grand Master: @TheWanderingWizard
French Templar:
English Templar: @r4p17
Noble 1:
Noble 2:
King Richard III:

Assassins:
Grand Master:
French Assassin: @dragonthief1
English Assassin: @methrirr123
Random assassin 1:
Random assassin 2:
Random assassin 3:

Neutral:
King of France:
Edward the Black prince:
Joan of arc:
French 1:
French 2:
English 1:
English 2:

Character Template:

CodeSelect all

 Name:
Age:
Slot your character fills:
Appearance (in detail):
Personality:
Short biography (who are you):
Skills:
Anything else you want me to know


Rules:
1. Foul language reduced to a minimum
2. No killingg without consent
3. Three posts before your next post to make sure everyone gets a chance
4. Enjoy

"Bring him to me."
A short, balding man was dragged into the room and dropped at the feet of Grand Master de Horduex. The man's silvery hair looked grey in the dimly-lit room. He was dressed in the lvery of an English soldier. But he was more than that. He was an Assassin.
"So," de Horduex said in a low voice, "I heard you were exploring in the ruins of the castle north of Marseilles. What were looking for?
The Assassin looked up and stared into de Horduex's eyes. "I'll never tell you, Templar." A
A smile formed on the Grand Master cold face. It wasn't a friendly smile.
"I think you will, eventually," he said before signalling to a Templar by the door. The Templar went out and returned soon after with a small, marble box with a crank attache to the top. De Horduex took the box and placed the Assassin's hand in it with the help of the Templar. After making the victim's hand was tight, de Horduex said: " Do you know what this is? This little box is called the Widow's Tear. What does it do? Well, if I just turn this crank like this," he started turning the crank, "the small diamond drill inside starts puncturing your flesh. We tipped the tip with a deadly poison, wgich will cause you a lot of pain before ecentually killing you."
As the Grand Master contknued to turn the crank, a thin trail of blood started flowing out of the small eye in the side of the box, making it look like a tear of blood.
"If this is the worst you can do, Templar," the Assassin said, the pain evident in his voice, "Then you'll never break me."
De Horduex ignored this remark and signalled for another box. After that didn't work, he started using other torture methods.
The Templar and the Assassin continued playing this game for ten hours before a dying Assassin finally broke.
"I-i was looking for something," he said with a weak voice.
!What were you looking for?"
"It-it must be th-there."
"What?!" the Grand Master was shouting by now.
"Ch-Charlem-magne's sword, and, and..."
"And what! What else?!"
As de Horduex stood over the limp body of the Assassin, he processed the little but useful information which he had just received.
"Clean this up," he said as he cleaned his hands on a cloth, "and summon the English fellow Edward of Somerset here. Tell him I have a very important task for him."

~Edward~

I walk out of the stable leading my horse St. George. Most of the time I just call him George or Georgi. I am taking him on a mission to explore some ruins that supposedly contain the sword of Charlemagne. We found one of the Assassins wandering around there and now I am off to retrieve the same thing which that foul knave could not.

I swing myself up into saddle with ease, like the experienced horseman that I am. I kick George lightly and he sets of at a slow trot, which is just a little faster than a walk, thought not as much so, as a full trot. I make my way through the busy streets of the small French village out toward a forest to the north. The sun shines down brightly on me and my horse. It glistens off my polished steel scabbard protruding from my brown cloak.

I have already begun to sweat from the sweltering heat. However I dare not take off my cloak and expose my coat of chain-mail coat or else that will give my position away. However I decide that at the very least I will roll up my sleeves and throw off my hood.

As I enter the forest I am assaulted by wave after wave of Mosquitos. They must love my blood or else they are just worse here in France than they are back in England. I swat this way and that until the flies give me a brief respite.

Once through the forest the flies subside and I get the chance to ride on in peace. The country is full of rolling hills and bubbling streams. When I ride across the latter I make sure not to let St. George splash water up in my face. That is is the last thing I need. However I do let him trot up some of the hills.

After riding about an hour I come to a crossroads where I meet a guard of four men with axes and staves. I catch my first glimpse of them as I turn round a sharp bend, ride through a forest and find myself at the top of a rocky crag. They are still a mile and a half away, but I can tell that they are not Templars. On the other hand I know that they aren't Assassins because I know that they would be lying in the underbrush of the small copse I just came through, not standing at an important crossroads ready to give me battle. After riding for several minutes I come upon them, still unsure of who they are.

"Who art thou?" I ask in a loud tone of voice. "Be thee fiend or friend? Speak quickly lest I let the blade of my broadsword draw blood and make it trickle from thy pretty little throats."

One of the men raises his stave threateningly as if he plans strike me, but the one with the axe steps forward laying his axe across the man's chest to hold him back.

"I am Jaques de Ponthieu," the man says in a somewhat friendly tone of voice. [He is just a neutral NPC I randomly decided to throw in]. "These men are my retainers. We are holding this road in the name of our lord he requires all who pass through his land to pay a toll to help pay for the upkeep of of these lands; the land of the Count de Ponthieu."

"Ha!" I say laughing derisively. "I dost pay no tolls to knaves such as thee! Be gone now lest I slay thee knave and all your...minions with you!"

"You insolent fool!" the man shouts gripping the handle of his axe all the tighter. "How dare you call me and my men knaves! We are soldiers of the most noble Count de Ponthieu! Now be gone from these lands at once lest I slay you and take your horse into the service of my lord!"

"May I remind thee that we are not even in Ponthieu or anywhere nigh it? Now I say...Move!!!"

The captain of the garrison, for this is what I presume he is, swings his axe strait toward my abdomen. I stand up in the saddle and throw myself forward just in time to avoid the blow. Then sitting up and draw my sword in an attempt to crush his dandruff filled crown into bits. But the tip of my blade rings against the handle of the captains axe. Hardly a second later the other three men charge me with their staves. They direct their blows toward George. I wheel him about to face the captain who sprang behind me. I bring my sword to bear and send his axe flying from his hand. Then I kick George lightly and he bulls the captain right over. A second later however three staffs thud into the rear end of my steed, the noble St. George! I spur him onward, but he needs no urging. Once we are a hundred yards away I wheel him about and gallop all the way back to the road we were on beyond the checkpoint set up by the guards, who are by this time too preoccupied caring for their captain to bother with running to the nearest livery and riding after me.

When at last we are clear of them I laugh heartily at the encounter. That Jaques fellow will feel that shove George gave him for a long while.A smile at that thought. It feels exhilarating to fight four brutes, and then take a good gallop and feel the wind sweeping through your hair! I think I'll try to schedule things that more often! It is actually quite enjoyable to be honest with you.

After a good while I decide to slow my horse to a walk. I can tell he is getting tired even though he won't admit it. We continue at that pace the rest of the day until finally we reach the ruins.

I dismount and tie my horse to a rod iron pole that is all twisted and maimed. I guess that must have been the post for the gate to this chateau. The chateau is one of Charlemagne's summer residences or hunting lodges. I don't know which one it is for sure, but my guess is that is is one of the former based on the fact that it had a gate of iron not a wooden one.

I start my search for the lost artifact by looking around the exterior of the chateau, though within the walls. Then I head inside. Walking through a ten foot high archway, I find myself in a spacious courtyard. I see an altar, or something like it, and walk over to it. I see a placard there with an inscription on it. I read it quickly. A single phrase catches my eye. Charlemagne's sword! This is where the sword was held! But it isn't here!

In haste I scour the remaining rooms but find nothing. Just as I am about to walk into the final room I notice something on the archway. It is a faded white it is a piece of paper stuck onto one of two crossed rusted pikes hanging on the wall. I reach up and manage to get it off with the aid of my sword. The parchment falls to the ground. I pick it up and read it. It is all written with large curly capital letters.

'TRY TO FIND THE SWORD OF CHARLEMAGNE NOW IF YOU DARE! BUT IT ISN'T HERE!'

Nicolas Gautier ~ on the field Before Orleans

The first charge broke the British ranks. The second decimated them. There was no need for a third.

I wiped my sword on a British flag and glanced grimly around the battlefield. Mythoughts were drowned out by the cries and groans of the wounded - French andBritish. I kneeled down before a British Longbowman and looked at his wound; alance had gone through his gut, which was now twisted around said weapon. He gasped for breath and I watched the life ebb from his eyes. I made the cross and left his body.

I approached Lady Joan, and as I did so, she glanced at me. I bowed low and said, "Madame, our forces have routed the British. We are victorious!"

The men around me cheered, "Viva la France!"

She smiled and quieted the men. "They are not defeated... but this is certainly a victory."

One of my fellow soldiers, and an assassin, Phillip Poltieres, whispered in my ear, "They know, Nicolas. They got Thomas - he broke."

I sighed."And so it begins."

He nodded. "Oui. The Grandmaster has called for us to gather at Rouen for a secret council."

I nodded as he left. I turned to Joan who glanced at me curiosly. "I apologize my Lady, but business calls me elsewhere. My men are yours to command."

She smiled as I mounted my horse and began to ride north. The assassins had a new mission, and mine would soon become very obvious.

Edward~

I tear the paper apart and crumple it, throwing it on the floor in wrath. For a moment I stand there in indecision, but then I decide on my course of action. I will ride with all speed after the fiend who dared to take the most fabled artifact, Charlemagne's sword! To think that anyone would have the audacity to do such a thing. Then I remember that I was trying to do just that. At least I had a perfectly good reason to do so!

I untie my horse, mount St. George, and kick him lightly. We ease into a fast trot and maintain the pace for half an hour. Soon, the shade of night begins setting in. The sun still glints off of my perfectly shined armor, but not as much as it had when I arrived at the chateau.

I soon come to the crossroads where just a couple hours before I encountered that fiendish captain and his foolish guards! If I had wished I should have easily knocked all their heads off, but alas, I could not bring myself to do such a thing. They were probably just following the commands of their foolish count! I was tasked with finding the sword of Charlemagne and that is just what I plan on doing!

I keep my eyes peeled for tracks running off to the side of the road, but see none. I gaze worriedly at the sun which is almost completely sunken under the horizon. I really need to find these fiends camp before nightfall! If I don't I shall be in a heap of trouble! Just then I see hoof prints imbedded in the slightly soggy ground about five or ten yards of to the side of the road. Turning my horse off the road I follow the tracks. I see that they lead strait into the forest.

I halt my steed, St. George momentarily. What if this is just a ploy to lure me into an ambush. However I dismiss the idea when I smell the smoke of a fire and hear voices. There isn't very much noise though... if there are only two or three I will be able to take them on easily, but if not... I dismount and whisper in George's ear to make sure that he stays. On second thought, I hand him an apple to munch on.

Pulling my sword out of its scabbard slung over my horses neck, I proceed forward. Just before I enter the forest I pause for a moment to summon up all the courage that lies within me. I will need all I can get if I am to take on multiple foes.

I creep forward into the forest, following the path created by the party that passed through here. I slow to a halt as I come within view of the campfire and crouch behind a tree. For a minute I sit there, motionless, as I wait for my heavy breathing to subside.

I cautiously stick out my head and look to see who the men are. I hold back a gasp. It's the men who held me up at the road! I jerk back my head avoiding a prying glance just in time. That was a little too close to call. Just then a thought strikes me. That is who stole Charlemagne's sword! How could I be so foolish! Now I really do wish that I had chopped off all their heads! Now I am not sure whether I will be able to fight all four of them at the same time. The last tome I fought them St. George took a blow or two for me as well as knocked that fool of a captain over. I won't be able to ambush them with him around though... well, I guess I will just have to do the fighting by myself.

I dash out from my hiding place behind the tree and run toward one of the ordinary soldier. With one swing my sword crushes into his helmet. He collapses onto the ground in an instant. The other soldier stands up with a white look on his face, he yells and rushes me I don't have time to look around and see what the rest of the soldiers are doing, or for that matter where they are.

The man swings violently at me. I swirl about and duck. The man continues the rapid assault with a stab followed by a slice at my ribs. I am forced to leap back, caught of balance. I parry two more blows before being forced back up against an elm tree. All of a sudden I counterattack with a slice aimed right at his throat. With lighting sped he leaps back.

Suddenly I catch a rapid movement off to my right. I instinctively move to the left and only just manage to avoid tripping over a root. I turn my back and run away from my foes I don't stop until I reach the edge of the forest. As I run I hear the heavy thudding of my pursuers' boots.

I turn almost on my heel and face the two soldiers running headlong toward me. I have just enough time to step to the side and rap one of them on the side of the head. Unfortunately in my haste I use the flat of my blade! The other soldier manages to gather his wits just in time to halt and crouch in a defensive position.

"Clear off, you fiend! Where is Charlemagne's sword?" I yell pointing my sword at him angrily.

"What are you talking?" about he asks, confusion clouding his face. I know he is just stalling.

"You know what I mean! You stole it from its resting place! Now where is it, fool?"

I lunge at him and slice toward his head. He blocks my blow. I continue to pound him with every single combination I have in my arsenal. He just man ages to block me each time, though I can tell his defenses are wreaking and his strength is waining.

Just when I think I have him beaten, I feel a sharp pain spike through my head. I collapse the world swirls and I am transported into outer space and the lands beyond into the realm of total oblivion. After that I remember nothing for a long, long while.

Spoiler

Hey, just to let you all know I don't have time to edit this, so if you find a few errors that is why. Also, the guys who I attacked do not have Charlemagne's sword. Finally I will be gone from the Friday (the day after tomorrow) until the next Friday, so I won't be able to post then, @TheWanderingWizard.

Grand Master de Horduex

"Your carriage awaits, Grand Master."
Without looking up from his desk, de Horduex replied. "Is everyting packed?! he asked.
"Yes, Grand Master," the female Templaar said.
"Then it is all good," de Horduex started folding up the map that he had been inspecting, "Let us be off. We can't be late."
Outside de Horduex's chambers the sun was only starting to show behind the eastern horizon. A chill breeze was blowing up from the mediterranean sea to the south. Around him, the military outpost was only starting to become active. The barracks was fair sized, equipped with an infirmary, blacksmith, kicthen and several tall watchtowers that connected the stone shell around thes buildings. In the centre of this outpost was a well, and beside it stood de Horduex carriage.
It was a common looking carriage, no decorations to be seen anywhere, and no convoy to draw attention. It would just be the Grand Master, his driver (also a Templar), another guard in front, and two others inside the carriage with de Horduex.
The plump commander of the outpost walked over just as de Horduex climbed into the carriage.
"Bonjour, Master le Grange," he said, using one of de Horduex's severak aliases in front of his troops, "Are you leaving so soon?"
"Yes, Commander la Hire. I have urgent business that requires my personal attention."
"Very well. I hope your accomodations were comfortable enough?"
"As comfortable as thet can be in a military barracks." With that the carriage started moving. The large gates were hauled open to reveal the farmland around the outpost. To the south the Mediterrenean sea strecthed to the horizon. A slight fog had curled up from the sea during the evening, but was already starting to disperse.
The carriage made its way along the cobbled road, passing very little traffic.
"Have you received any news concerning Charlesmagne's Sword?" de Horduex asked, looking out the window of his carriage.
"None, Grqnd Master," the female Templar replied, "Our sources say that they have lost ttmrack of this Edeard fellow."
"Edward's too devote to the Templar Order to have run away with the Sword. Track him down as soon as possible."
"Yes, Grand Master. I shall send out messengers as soon as we arrive at the Estate."
"Fair enough. Will all of those we summoned attend?"
"All of them will be attending, except King Richard."
"And why won't he be attending?"
"He says it has something to do with this Joan girl. Our sources inform me that she caused quite a stir at Orleans."
"Tell me about her."
"From what I can gather Grand Master, she is but a mere peasant girl, barely a woman. Then one day she walks into a French camp and now she's a general in the army."
"Well, we shouldn't underestimate this new pawn, for pawns can become dangerous when left unharmed. If she causes any more problems like this, eliminate her."
"How, Grand Master?"
"Find out anything that we can use against her. Then we use that to our advantage. Burn her as a witch for all I care. But enough of that, we have arrived."
The carriage pulled up to a large, walled estate, two guards standing by the the portcullis.
Inside, de Horduex could see dozens of "servants" moving arounf, all of them Templar soldiers.
De Horduex smiled. This would be a lovely stay...

Edward

I wake up with a start and feel my head throbbing. As I become aware of my surroundings I realize that I am tied to the saddle of my horse. I shake my head and look around, still somewhat disoriented. Who took me captive in the first place? All of a sudden I remember how I was searching for Charlemagne's sword and then realized it was gone. Then I went to take it back from those thugs holding the rode. Finally I remember being hit on the head. Now I guess I am being taken to their headquarters. Could they be assassins?

"Hey look!" one of the men exclaimed. "The prisoner is awake now."

"And... how does that effect us?" another man exclaimed, the irritation clearly evident.

"Well now we can't talk about any of our plans!" the first man retorted.

"Ha! You are such a dummy! He is our prisoner! As long as we hold him captive he is helpless to do anything or tell anyone about us!"

"Stop arguing!" Captain Jaques says, rolling his eyes and sighing. We don't want to let him know anything he shouldn't. He just might manage to escape from us. In that case we would be foolish for making such a foolish mistake as that!" Turning to me he says, "Still, I won't be foolish enough to let you get away a second time! You are too much of a troublemaker. I am going to take you back to our HQ and keep you there for the time being. You won't be getting away anytime soon!"

I roll my eyes and chuckle. "No. But you won't be able to hold me for long! My friends are more powerful than you know. They will rescue me sooner or later. Don't worry."

"Hah! I won't! Don't think I am as ignorant as you assume, Templar!" He spits out the last word as if it had a sour flavor in his mouth."

I jerk involuntarily, before regaining my composure. "No. But you make one mistake. You dare to underestimate your enemies' prowess." I glare at him defiantly, my face turning a few shades redder."

He glares at me contemptuously, an evil grin spreading across his face. "So do you. Release the prisoner!" he shouts, his voice changing tone.

With a swift motion, one of the men who had remained silent up until this point, sliced through the ropes binding my hands and body to the saddle and with a second he cut the one keeping my horse attached to his. Another man, the second one I heard speaking, struck the rump of my horse and sent me and St. George galloping across the plain, as we ride I fight to hold on and sit up in the saddle at the same time. Just as I am about to do so, I look up and see ditch in the ground ahead of me with a barbed wire fence on the other side. If I don't do something quickly St. George will trip in the ditch and I will be hurled into the fence. I react quickly, doing the only thing that I can think of. I pull up on the reins as hard as I can, hoping that it will stop. Believe me, it is one of the stupidest things I could ever do! In an instant I am hurled from the saddle and catapulted right over the fence.