Vlad’s movements to the East gave me an idea I was tired, I realized, of living in seclusion I was tired of planning my movements to stay hidden or avoid confrontation with humanity – I was ready to live in the light again, figuratively speaking. He’s a bloody fiend if you ask me – but like me, he’s still alive. In the time before the queen of Parravon took Grey Lady Pass, and then pushed my border back to Blood Keep, I heard news of the rise of another of my kind – a vampire – to the East one Vlad von Carstein of Sylvania, who desired to subjugate the Empire of Sigmar. She forged alliances with foreign powers and engaged in espionage, but every time she attacked I repelled her armies – for a number of years at least. The laws of Bretonnia gave her leave to do so, and she conspired at all turns to see me removed from my keep. In her twisted vision the Marche de Nar was, de jure, a part of the kingdom of Parravon, and she was willing to war with me for it. I attempted to carry out my lordly duties in an honorable fashion, when called upon I raised my armies and rode for the King I might’ve been content to continue in that way, ruling over my lands more-or-less peaceably, if not for the designs of my closest neighbor, the queen of Parravon. The then-High King of Brettonia, for reasons beyond my comprehension, took note of my lands – ending a centuries long exile – he desired Nar, and offered to annex the Marche whole if I would consent to serve him as a vassal I agreed, as I was certain that he would only take them by force if I refused. Nar, my retreat from the world for more than 3 centuries. I was content to return to my castle, pleased with the knowledge that the people of the Marche de Nar (the lands traditionally watched over by the lord of Blood Keep) were safe to work their fields and ply their trades in peace once more It was then that events were set upon the path that brought this crown, and the throne of the High King of Bretonnia to me. Once the greenskin armies were crushed, though, an extended occupation was needed to root out the infestation in earnest before long, months turned to years and the campaign came to a close after nearly a half-decade.
Almost a hundred and fifteen years past I rode out of my fortress in the mountains, Blood Keep, with my most trusted retainer, Captain Lafayette of the Ordo Draconis we were only meant to exterminate the Orcs that were flourishing in Brabillon and Grey Lady Pass. Some people call me “the Just”, but it’s only a title. What you see here is Vampiric Bretonnia, ruled not without contest – but inarguably – by me, Walach Harkon.
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