Deafening silence hung over the Cathedral of the Lady in Bastonne. Where before this place had been filled with all the joy and activity befitting the wedding of any two celebrity nobles, the bride Anara d’Garamont now laid dead at Mallobaude’s feet with her throat sliced open by his blade. All around the cathedral laid the bodies of hundreds of knights and ladies, all of which had been complicit in Bretonnia’s unjust system as the Serpent Knight saw it. Even the bishop Sir Almaric de Gaudaron, who Mallobaude personally believed played a role in King Louen’s decision to abandon his bastard son in the first place, was now dead having been swarmed by the strange wights. Indeed, once the cathedral had been taken the wights unlocked the door and continued to rampage through the city’s keep, killing countless more knights. So with so many of his foes and figures complicit in injustice slain, why didn’t Mallobaude feel any better about himself?

Mallobaude decided to leave the Cathedral before all the bodies began to attract flies and made his way to Duke Bohemond’s throne room, where he said he would meet Ennar if both survived. The hallways on the way to the throne room had blood smeared across their walls and random bodies laying unattended wherever Mallobaude looked. Once he reached the throne room Mallobaude found it was in no better state than the cathedral, with the bodies of Duke Bohemond “Beastslayer” and his Beastslayers of Bastonne littered around the room in unnatural positions like rag-dolls after making their valiant last stands against the wight Knights of the Black Grail.

Mallobaude waited…and waited… and waited for a single sign of life as the only thing he ever heard was the shambling of the grail wights in search of hiding survivors.Eventually, this changed as Mallobaude heard the sound of the keep’s great gates crashing down followed by the sound of horse shoes galloping through the halls. Mallobaude raised to his feet and gripped his weapons just in case those were Bretonnian reinforcements, though truthfully Mallobaude was much too tired to put up a fight at this point.

Fortunately, those were not the hooves of mortal knights echoing through the halls but the approach of Mousillon’s dark riders the Senechals coming toward the throne room. The blood knights rode straight for the throne room and stopped upon seeing the Serpent Knight.

“Ah, Mallobaude. You survived then. You know, when first you came to my lands seeking shelter I thought you may come in use some day but never did I imagine it to this degree.” Duke Merovech said as he dismounted from his steed.

“I…You…What are those things?” Mallobaude asked, gesturing toward the wights created by the Black Grail who followed the sound of the Sendchals riding into the keep.

“Curious…these are not part of my design. They have been cursed … or promoted perhaps, possibly by a higher power … Oh, but this is glorious!” Merovech enthused as his gaze turned to the corpse of Duke Bohemond. Merovech pulled the body from its throne and delivered multiple kicks to the deceased grail knight, taking simple glee in the knowledge that a knight who’d slain scores of Merovech’s minions over the years now laid dead at his feet. When he was done, Merovech lifted the duke and grail knight over his shoulder and threw him across the throne room, making space for Merovech to sit on the Duke’s throne.

“After centuries of glorious conquest, the homeland of Gilles le Breton once again returns to its rightful protector, in the saviour of Bretonnia. In time the armies of Mousillon will spread from this place and surplant all this nation with me as your king and my heir as prince. The rest of you will receive the highest of honours for your loyalty. Bertelis, step forward.” Merovech ordered as he proceeded to declare that the last remaining member of the Garamont bloodline would be made the new Duke of Bastonne under his rule. The pronouncements continued, with Mallobaude’s friend Sir Eustache of the Rusting Blade (the knight responsible for letting Merovech’s army through the city gates) being offered the Dukedom of Gisoreux, Maldred’s daughter Mallory taking Lyonesse, her father taking the traditional dukedom of Mousillon, Jules de Fontainebleau being promised rule over Artois and the turncoat necromancer Renar being offered stewardship of Aquitaine among others.

And then Merovech turned back to Mallobaude. “I’ve got a gift for you.” The would-be Vampire King waved his hand and in came a few skeletons-at-arms with a handcuffed Ennar, having been captured by Mallory in the battle outside. “I think he’s one of yours so, I’m curious to hear what you think we should do with him.”

Mallobaude responded cold and to the point, never once looking Ennar in the eye as he recommended they let the peasant bowman go since he no longer held any use to them.

“Let him go? Hmmm… perhaps… Though I will be curious to hear whether you still maintain that view in a few minutes time. Then again, I do have a question for you. What do you think of my intention to declare an heir, a Prince of the Kingdom of Mousillon, when the time comes?”

“I think Duke Maldred will serve you well in that role, your Majesty.” Mallobaude responded.

“Maldred?” Merovech asked quizzically.

“Well, isn’t it obvious? He’s the most senior member of your Court and already holds a title of Duke, just as you do.” Mallobaude responded.

“True, but then again I see Maldred’s function as serving my heir, not becoming my heir himself. Also, he doesn’t have any royal blood…” Merovech teased as his eyes scanned across Mallobaude’s body.

“Wait, hold on now just a minute. You promised me I would simply be heralded for my service.” Mallobaude interjected.

“Indeed, you will. All hail the Prince of Mousillon!” Merovech bellowed. Two of his Senechals stepped forward, grabbed Mallobaude by the shoulders and forced him to his knees as Merovech stood up from the throne and opened his mouth wide, his fangs becoming more visible by the second, as he suggested that Maldred and Mallory may like to leave the room for what was about to happen.

“But you promised me… you said I would never be transformed!” Mallobaude demanded loudly.

“Consider the terms of our deal altered. Welcome to the family.” Merovech spoke as his senechals each placed a hand on Mallobaude’s chin, forcing his head to move to one side and clearly expose his neck as they pulled the hood of his chain mail back.

“You can’t do this to me! I would have served you anyway!” Mallobaude begged as he attempted to break free from the blood knights cold grips.

Merovech seemed to ignore Mallobaude’s pleading at first, citing that “I’m afraid this will hurt but if it is any consolation, the vampire tends not to remember the discomfort of his birth. You are a skilled warrior Mallobaude. You have been a good servant but your mortal mind is consumed by feelings of anger, abuse and revenge. These sentiments have no place in the court I intend to build. – Hold him steady!” Merovech barked at his followers before continuing.

“Notions of injustice have tormented you all your life. Now I give you the chance to move beyond that life, to claim the princely rank you always dreamt of and set you free of your insecurities. Consider this your emancipation.” Merovech said seconds before plunging his fangs into Mallobaude’s neck.

The Blood Kiss connected and Mallobaude’s skin instantly began to discolour, turning a pale green-ish as the Duke of Mousillon replaced his blood with the foul inner-taint of the vampire. The Serpent Knight’s heart rate sped up as his skin convulsed and muscles reshaped, all while he turned ever more pale as Merovech drank him dry. Eventually, Mallobaude fell to the ground, his body rolling into a ball as it struggled to overcome the bite’s trauma only to be undermined once rigor mortis set in. His body spasmed all over the floor beneath him, the bones in his fingers reshaped into claws while his teeth and ears grew bat-like.

As the now undead Mallobaude laid transforming on the ground, Merovech returned to his new throne and commanded his Senechals to lock the room’s door, uncuff the peasant archer and carve a small cut along Ennar’s right forearm.As the blade made contact with Ennar’s flesh, the new-born vampire Mallobaude immediately rose to his feet and turned his attention to the bleeding commoner. His eyes were dull, having lost all the coloration of mortal eyes yet not taken on the supernatural aspect of a developed vampire’s visage just yet and Mallobaude’s tongue began to lick his lips in a lustful fashion.

As Ennar panicked at the sight of his former friend turned monster unable to control his own instincts Merovech suggested “Let’s make this into a sport!” before commanding one of his blood knights to give Ennar their sword.

As the peasant took up the blade and held it in a guard position, surrounded by undead and one vampire in particular wanting to devour him, Ennar had a decision to make.

….

• Angry React: Ennar decided to make an attempt at assassinating Merovech, hoping that destroying the Duke of Mousillon would release Mallobaude of his enchantment. (It won’t but there’s no way a Bretonnian peasant would know that.)

However, as he charged toward Merovech he was instantly intercepted and killed by the Senechals. He never stood a chance.

….

• Laugh React: The vampire Mallobaude lunged toward Ennar only to find himself stabbed through the chest by the peasant who anticipated his attack. From there Ennar’s adrenaline took over, allowing him to withdraw the blade and rush over to the Butcher of Mousillon before any of his guards could intervene, awarding him the chance to sever Merovech’s head from his shoulders with a single swing of his blade.

As the Duke of Mousillon and his heir both perished the Senechals became dazed while those of them who were progeny of Merovech’s even began to crumble. As such, Ennar ran over to a nearby window and smashed it with the pummel of his sword, ebabling him to escape alive.

….

• Angry React: The vampire lunged forward to attack and Ennar attempted to defend himself with the sword. He swung it in a wide arc, hoping this would help him hit his foe when really it simply opened him up to a counterattack. The vampire dodged the blade’s swing and lept on top of the peasant, brutally gnashing and biting at his shoulders to get Ennar to let go of the sword. From there he dug his new fangs into Ennar’s neck and proceeded to repeat what Merovech did to him only moments before, making Ennar both a vampire and Mallobaude’s heir.

….

….

….

(Prelude to Sad and Love React)

Ennar held the blade aloft for a second before coming to another conclusion entirely. Ennar cast the sword he was given aside and attempted to appeal to Mallobaude’s human side instead.

“Listen to me. You are Madreut, the lost Prince of Bretonnia and more importantly, you are my friend. I know you would never harm me. I know I am safe with you.” Ennar argued as he stepped toward the vampire.

Mallobaude responded in kind, reaching his hands out to hold Ennar’s wrists as Ennar made contact and the two stared at each other for a moment.

….

• Love React: As if by some miracle Mallobaude did manage to calm down. His erratic behaviour and lust for blood eased for now in the company of his friend.

He let go of Ennar’s hands and made his way to the room’s door which he then unlocked, allowing Ennar a chance to run away while Mallobaude could still control his urges. The peasant thanked Mallobaude and ran, likely to never see his vampiric friend again as Merovech looked on disappointed by his heir’s display of mercy.

….

• Sad React: Despite trying to avert the vampire’s attention, Mallobaude’s gaze turned back to the cut on Ennar’s forearm as he began dabbling his fingers in the cut and uncontrollably licking anything that clung to them.

From there Mallobaude noticed the veins running through Ennar’s wrist and proceeded to stab his long nails into the peasant’s arms until the veins inside collapsed and began to bleed. Ennar attempted to resist, trying to pull his arm away only for Mallobaude to accidentally respond in an overly forceful manner as he yanked Ennar’s arm towards him and dislocated the peasant’s arm at the shoulder. Ennar yelped in pain, both from blood loss and the dislocation while Mallobaude gave way to his violent blood-addled instincts. Mallobaude tore his former friend apart, drinking his blood and tearing out chunks of flesh to consume roar between his new fangs.

As Mallobaude slaughtered his former friend, Merovech sat back delighted on his throne, proclaiming “Long may the Prince of Mousillon reign!”