Faction Guide: The Order of the Griffin
Faith shall be your shield against the dark; Zeal, your sword against the darkling monsters.
The Order of Saint Georg, the Dragon-Slayer-and-Griffin-Rider, is the Churches most potent organization. Its strong right arm are paladins, clerics, brother-knights, and well disciplined footmen. Its tender left arm are the humble monks, nurses, and doctors who give care and prayer at the hospitals and monasteries established by the Order. Many sons and daughters of the nobility, or ambitious sons of lesser station, enter the ranks of the Order, and there is no such man more celebrated than the Ordenfeldmarschal, Herr (Sir) Wilhelm.
The rank of Ordenfeldmarschall is second-in-command to the Ordenmeister, -the commanding general in all but name- of the Order, and is the acting Ordenmeister unless and until the Ordenmeister returns from the Great Crusade to the Holy Lands, just launched last year. Even should the crusaders return, it will likely be many years before they do. Therefore, Wilhelm is de facto commander of one of the most powerful organizations of the realm, and he has the brawn and brain to guide it true. A stout 38 years of age, with many campaigns and years of service to both Court and Order, Herr Wilhelm is the younger son of a minor family of knights of Karameikos, and with no better prospects he entered the Order of the Griffin shortly after winning his spurs at 17 on a minor campaign in the west of the country. He has since won great renown as a skilled warrior and strategist, a pious Paladin of the highest caliber, and for his great favor not only within the Order but at Court, as well. He personally commands the Chapter-Haus of the Patriarchal Guard in Luln-town, as well as the rest of the Order. He has led the Order in breaking armies of undead and Traldari tribesmen alike, and broke the back of a barbarian breach into the lowlands just last year. He is mighty in battle, wise and stern in judgment, and far-sighted in his generalship. One of those men who come along only once or twice in a generation.
Herr Linden Orville, General der Division.
Herr Linden Orville is one of the other few who come along in the same generation. He is a celebrated knight of the Griffin and has slain heretics, chaos champions, beasts of the wild, and even giants. He wields six feet of blade as easily as lesser men wield a smaller sword, wherever he goes he commands respect, awe, and favor, and his purity is unquestioned. There is currently a debate within the Order's ranks as to who would win in a duel, between Linden and Wilhelm.
Linden is a player character, and until recently the player was quite active in the game. Let this be a lesson to all faint-hearts and fair-weather players, that playing often and actively looking for adventure is how one gets ahead!
Their Order is much like the historic crusader orders or a chapter of Adeptus Astartes. The number of knights (leveled fighters, clerics, paladins etc) is few, a thousand or thereabouts, and they are scattered across the realm, with a couple of large chapter-houses acting as garrisons and training centers for important areas. When gathered together for war, these ‘Ritterbrueder’, ‘Halbbrueder’, and ‘Diederbrueder’ are some of the most disciplined and feared warriors of the realms of mankind.
Whether ahorse…
Or afoot.
Though these monastic knights are renowned in battle, an uncompromising code of spiritual and martial rigor, and obedience unto death means that there will always be few who will commit body and soul to the Order. At the very least, the demands of war and labor ensure that servile labor and men of lesser commitment will always be needed. Men will want pay, land to call their own, a wife, and children. Others wish for the prestige of donating without giving themselves up wholly. Still more will join the Order on crusade for a month, a season, a number of years, and then leave. Thus what was once a small brotherhood of committed fanatics, becomes surrounded by men and women perhaps not as devoted to the Order’s ways and ideals. Yet what many would spurn as ‘faint-hearts’ are needed, if only to bake the soldier-monk’s bread, spin them clothing, forge weapons, and bolster the ranks in war. How, then, will the Order stay true to its mission?
So it is that the Order now prides itself in its elitism. A relatively small body of brother-knights, surrounded by varying classes of serfs, hirelings, and freemen. Though skilled and devoted warriors are given the title of serjeant and counted as ‘cousins’ within the Order…
The masses of recently conquered-and-submissive Traldari and Lupini are simply conscripted and used for labor or war. Some are more enthusiastic than others. At the very least, it takes little time or enthusiasm for a man to learn to shoot a crossbow!
Thus the Order can call upon numbers of armed men and trained knights on par with the entire realm, so the Order is well justified in its respect. The Order answers to only the All-Father in the next world, and His Patriarch in this one. Patriarch Olliver Jowett, for his part, is not one to say ‘no’ often to the Order.
Back in October, a border fort owned by a feudal lord was totally destroyed by forces unknown, though it is apparent that several BIG somethings tore through the structures, bit men in half, large tail marks and foot prints.... then a few weeks later, a nearby border tower owned by the Order is attacked by an adult white dragon. Couple of men survive and run home, report that the dragon is sentient and can talk.
Another few weeks later, caravans and travelers close to Luln-town are being attacked by a mixed group of kobolds and human brigands. Then they defeat a force of local feudal levies sent to destroy them.
Wilhelm takes a large group of cavalry and looks for these raiders. They are not found. He patrols up and down the borderland. A river separates the realm from many hostile tribes of barbarians. A quick raid into their lands brings prisoner reports that there is a great tribal moot being held at the court of a large white dragon, and these clans are known to be dragon worshippers. Furthermore, on the wind comes the sounds of drums, pipes, and men on the march...
When Wilhelm crosses back into friendly territory, he is met with a messenger. A local lord, relative to one of the border counts, is dead. Such is life. The group of Order troops stationed in his barony have suspicions, they are going to check things out in the area. Sure, okay, thanks for the report. He continues his patrol.
A blizzard arrives. Wilhelm takes shelter at a local castle. Two days later he sets out for another border fort. On the road back, he gets another messenger. There are reports of undead from the men who had their suspicions, and they ask for reinforcements. Fine, he was planning on going in that direction anyway.
Finally reaching home, there is a partial muster of knights and militia waiting for orders. Another report arrives. Some undead menace has been un-masked, and tracked to a pile of ruins. Large numbers of lesser undead have been sighted, and reported. Said ruins now boast a very new palisade, as well.
Immediate muster is 60 knights and 240 light footmen of low quality. Friendly feudal lords are also reportedly raising their banners, apparently intent on avenging their dead cousin.
Though the danger is great, Wilhelm did not become master of an order of knights by being reckless. Scouts and pickets will scour the area, an army mustered and provisioned, and the Patriarch and his hierarchs will accompany the army, to cleanse and purify any touch of undeath, be it from man, beast, or plant.
Order knights march to battle.
As of now, the Order is one of, if not the major faction in politics and war. Any new characters of Lawful Good persuasion are encouraged to work with the Order in pushing back the heathen, destroying chaos wherever it is found, and settling new lands. Hunger for men of talent, vision, and a clear hierarchy means that promotions can come quickly for the skilled and ambitious. However, with great opportunity comes great expectations, and responsibilities. Failure is not tolerated. By faith and steel shall the heathen convert, the wild lands flourish, the lands of men shall be kept safe, and the All-Father be glorified.
Deus Vult.