Albrecht von Wulfhard, "Főnixkarom"

[RedDrake]

*A war preparation is always a fine moment. The courage of his people is unbroken, their lust for victory is in its peak, the most important task for a warlord is to maintain this initial enthusiasm.*
<I may add a new fine trophy to my collection.>
*The castle folks know their duties. There is no need to give any more orders; his mere presence is enough to keep things underway, so Albrecht returned to the glorious idea of leading a whole continent to war!
But something has changed; Albrecht has just glimpsed something, something obviously unnatural and something very important.
He's raising his head, looking for the source of this sensation.*
<My sire!>
*A survived wonder from the ancient time, an embodiment of an ancient goddess herself and she's here. She's above every mundane thing, above every beauty that mere words can describe. A marvelous surprise.
Albrecht is spending a long gazing moment as watching a goddess. The words in his heads are awakening him, and with fast and long steps he is going to greet his sire. After arriving he is getting down to one knee and greeting his sire properly with a passion in his voice.*
- /Gre/ May the Silver Lady shining in the night bless the way of its most beautiful priestess for eternal! Your presence in my humble haven, Lune's chosen, is the dignity of the stars and we're the most honored ones. I welcome you, my sire!
*He is not going to stand up until his sire tells him to do so.*
_________________
"Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust.
From ashes you've come
And to ash you'll return!
AMEN!"
(Angel Dust Andersen)

[Freiherr von Rosen]

*It is a most peculiar thing, when the undead heart of Gaia's once-great champion fills with holy, righteous rage, eagerly awaiting moments that shape history.
The letter accomplished its aim. Albrecht rumbles out and marches to the courtyard, his thundering voice calling numerous servants to him. Erik himself is the first to appear, wiping away the beer from his mouth with a well-practiced hand movement and roaring into the night.*

-/Ger/ A Crusade?! Yes, my lord! Glorious day! Immediately, my lord!

*Starting to run away to manage his duties, the bulky Engelberter turns around for one more yell.*

-/Lat/ For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever, amen. Amenn!!

*It isn't long before the castle turns into a busy beehive, ghoul soldiers fetching their armour and weapons, servitors gathering the various equipment needed, hoarding food, preparing the finest horses; with Erik and Tristan overseeing it all.
Such divine diligence. Such a simultaneous fear of God and Albrecht. Of course, the blood fed to them also cannot hurt.
Suddenly, amidst all this commotion, the lord of the castle finds himself watched.
In the shadow of a balcony overlooking the courtyard, there she stands, in all her divine glory, beauty and elegance. As his Sire casts her half-bored, half-intrigued gaze down upon the busy inner castle, her face truly resembles that of an Olympian goddess.
Her entrancing eyes are now set upon Albrecht; right now, from such a distance, only the shouted word could be heard, but she's above such petty, mundane things.
Literally.
Her voice talks to him from inside his head... in Ancient Greek.*

-/Gre/ Such a fine, brave man you are... Albrecht.
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[RedDrake]

*It has been long since this name fueled his heart with burning rage. An order maintaining rulership over the human flock. A job that was once belonged to his race. A whole tribe was dedicated for this job; "The Warders of Monkey" and later "The Warders of Man". The tribe dedicated doing the population control and handiwork needed to shepherd them. But they failed miserably. The humans founded kingdoms, vast empires for themselves. The failed tribe was only saved by them, the noble houses of the true rulers. The true kings of all the creation of Gaia.
It's the greatest shame that these newborn bloodsuckers could've overthrown their ancient rule. They are the creations of the Wyrm, a mockery of life, a spit to everything spiritually sacred. Being one of them is experiencing constant despair and a paradox. Not living yet existing. A dark shadow in this soul always whispers: "You're a mockery, you're a living shame, you must cease to exist."*
<But even in this twisted form I still have my duty as a ruler, I still have my pride and I still have my slim chance to change it all!>
*With these thoughts in head, he is opening the letter and slowly reading it with a quiet voice.*
<Interesting.>
*The name and the battles bring back memories. Memories that most garou would not accept: there is difference between a vampire and a vampire. They are as different as the flock they feed on: They can be virtuous saints or the greatest evil and anything between this. It's very sad that they rule now, but at least the rule should be in good hands.
Twisted evils and demon worshipping fiends exist in their ranks. To defeat them, comrades are needed and to Albrecht's surprise, he can call some of them as a friend.
The decision is simple. The time of mourning the past is now over. Even in death he is the same as he was in alive. A Warlord, a warrior of the full moon, and the enemy is massing his strength.

The heavy main doors are opening again. Albrecht is walking out to the inner court. His tall figurine is looking for his commander, Erik and loudly calling him!*
- /Ger/ Erik! Prepare your men! Bring only the finest, we're joining the Crusade! Bring Tristan too.
*The commands can be heard in the whole castle, all guards, all servants will know, that the lord will take a leave. We'll return with trophies, with glory and with victory!
He is looking into the eyes of all guards as he is taking a walk in the walls*
- /Ger/ - May the power of the Savior will bring glory to our cause!
*He is shouting the last sentence charismatically, to fuel the passion of his men's heart, lifting his sword in the air!*
- /Ger/ - God bless of us all! AMEN! AMEN!
*Even in death, even with fading emotions, the rage from the silver mother, Luna, still bursts his heart into passion!*
_________________
"Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust.
From ashes you've come
And to ash you'll return!
AMEN!"
(Angel Dust Andersen)

[Freiherr von Rosen]

*Slightly bowing down again, the talespinner takes a step back, looking up to see whether his master has any further requests.*

-/Ger/ At once, my lord.

*His curiosity satisfied, he turns and leaves the hall, closing the door again. It's just Albrecht and the letter now.
The Fiefs of the Black Cross. A giant network of holdings spanning Central Europe, ever extending in the North, in the East, anywhere the mighty Hardestadt and his Childe Jürgen are able to exert their potent influence. With rivals like the decadent Toreador of France and the insular Tzimisce fighting their own war in the Carpathians, the Ventrue of the Black Cross truly seem to be the dominant vampiric power in Europe.
A power that wants something from him. Albrecht opens the letter.*

†††

To His Lordship
Fürst Albrecht von Wulfhard
Of Clan Ventrue

Although this letter bears an official seal, allow me to address you as a friend, a comrade in arms, a brother in the blood of Christ and Cain.

Many years have passed since we last gave battle to the godless eastern Fiends together, laying waste to that congregation of daemonic abominations once and for all. I still remember your valour and provess in combat, your incorruptibility in purpose and faith.

Now, the holy word has been given. The world and Christendom requires men like you, for even as I pen these words, armies are being called under the Holy Cross one by one, mortal and immortal in numbers never before seen in history.

The greatest rulers of the Kine heed the call of the Pope and assemble to wipe the great enemy, the hordes of Allah from the face of the world forever. To bring a new age, where our Lord and Saviour, Christ Jesus reigns supreme, embracing all of mankind in his redemption. And we, the Ventrue, will be there to guide and shepherd them as wise leaders and just keepers along the narrow, but glorious path.

I have been given the honour by the Order's venerable Großkomtur, Heinrich von Rosen, to lead the vanguard unit securing the path before the mortal armies of Emperor Barbarossa and the immortal armies of Hochmeister Jürgen. This unit will encompass the finest of the finest in many fields of skill and expertise, for its mission shall be vital and its task difficult. A position here is open.

I ask you to hear my call, mighty Albrecht. To hear the call of the noble and the righteous, the true-hearted and the innocent from all over Christendom. Come, join us with your retinue at Magdeburg Castle in all due haste, and your reward shall be far more than mere blood or earthly riches. Eternity awaits.

Signed,
Anselm von Heidenauer
Komtur vom Kreuze of the Black Cross

CHRISTUS VINCIT

CHRISTUS REGNAT

CHRISTUS IMPERAT



†††

[RedDrake]

*The strong shall survive! - The primary law of nature. Those who are weak face extinction. Their buildings will collapse, their lands will be conquered, and at last their deeds and memories will be forgotten and last, nothing will be left of them.
But power alone is not enough. Power without discipline, power without a cause, is just plain brutality. There is no glory in it, throwing pride or the heart away is the same as throwing the true power away. Better to die with a pure heart or live further with an empty one!

These were some of the most important teachings of Conquering Claw family.
Rule with valor, love with ferocity, fight with bravery and go down with honor. A family which is more like a relic of the past than a living one in the present. But the past is the key to the future. The past can give the will and determination to carry on and most importantly the past can lead to a better present. If the essence of the present can be unwoven the time itself will weave better days. A small ray of hope for redemption.

But till that time the past must be well guarded. The castle, the great hall itself is a temple for the past deeds. The place where the once-living heart of Albrecht lives. Submerging in the past means a little time to live again, if only in memories. They are precious rare occasions and this is one of them.

But the past is over, the magic is gone, the time moves forward and a visitor arrived. It's time take a good look at the present itself. The sturdy figure of the nobleman turns around and his proud eyes pose a silent question from his companion, the sorrowful bard Tristan, what was so urgent? A letter personally delivered by him must have utmost importance. He, the only one remembering Albrecht's deeds, singing the songs from him, is hardly a simple messenger.

After listening what Tristan has to say, Albrecht face shows no sign of any change or emotion. He recognized the seal immediately and his mind prepares for fact that a matter of the undead is at hand again. It's an illusion to call them simply undead, they're cainities, his own kind, the damned.*

- /Ger/ You've done well my good bard.
*He takes the letter, just holding in his cold hands.*
- /Ger/ Have the servants prepare an adequate shelter for this messenger, Tristan. That will be all.
*His voice tells that he wants to be alone now. This letter must be read right now. After the heavy door is closed again, he carefully opens the letter and in near to a burning candle he begins reading It.*
_________________
"Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust.
From ashes you've come
And to ash you'll return!
AMEN!"
(Angel Dust Andersen)

[Freiherr von Rosen]

"He who fears death either fears the loss of sensation, or a different kind of sensation. But if you shall have no sensation, neither shall you feel any harm; and if you shall acquire another kind of sensation, you shall be a different kind of living being and you shall not cease to live."

- Marcus Aurelius


*****





*Nobility. Virtue. Might. Honour. Chivalry. Ferocity. Bravery. Fortitude. Sacrifice.
Innumerable are the qualities of the ancient House of the Conquering Claw, standing as an example to the rest of the world for more than a thousand years. Glory springs forth from the old memories of the mighty figure standing tall in the great hall of his castle, reminiscing about eras long past with family relics all around him.
The torches placed high enough on each pillar can give this place a strange resemblance to the Roman war camps of Antiquity, with the light of the full moon and the peculiar scents of nighttime Saxony sneaking in through the windows, resurrecting ancient Germania.
Sometimes, it feels good to submerge in the past and not look into the future.
The bleak, dark future with nothing but a small ray of hope in it.
The sound of the heavy main doors opening snaps the nobleman out of his nostalgia, and as he instinctively turns around, he finds the English bard, Tristan approaching with a sealed letter in hand.
As always, his voice resonates with respect.*

-/Ger/ Good evening, Sire, please excuse my abrupt entrance, but a messenger has just arrived with this letter here.

*Though he momentarily leans back towards the hallway, nobody can be seen there. For now.*

-/Ger/ He says he's from the town of Magdeburg, and this is of utmost importance and urgency. I saw it better-fit to bring it to you myself.

*Handing out the letter with an overly-polite bow, the seal itself becomes more visible now; it bears a sign all too familiar to anyone who matters in the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation.
The seal of the Black Cross.*
_________________

[Freiherr von Rosen]

The road to redemption for an outcast of two worlds.
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