Andrew Tormier: The Holy Warrior
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- your characters full name - Andrew Tormier
- your Narfell account name in game - Lord Andrew Tormier
The Holy Warrior
“Father! Father!” the young boy exclaimed as he ran across the field, “might I please plough the field today, please!?? The boy looked excitedly at his father as he did everyday from March to October, waiting for what seemed to be an eternity for the same answer he always received. It was another year of asking. From the age of four, he had been helping tend the farm in one way or another. Collecting acorns for the pigs, weeding the crops, feeding the chickens, collecting eggs and many other things a small child could do. It was not out of direction that he did these things, but rather a need to help held within his heart.
“Nay boy, as I tell you every day, you may till the field when you can lift the plough and attach it to the rigging.” The boy’s excitement faded instantly and he felt defeat. The defeat he always felt because of his lack of strength. “Aye father,” he stated with a saddened look upon his face, “I will prepare the team for you.” The man nodded to the boy and the boy walked away in the direction of the barns muttering to himself, “One day father, I shall be strong enough to lift boulders as big as you. You will see.”
The boy worked dutifully to prepare the team. He attached the proper rigging and moved them in front of the plough. He tied off the lead and as always went around and looked at the plough. He wrapped his hands around the hitch and bent his knees, entering the stance he saw his father do after his every failure. He lifted. Nothing moved. He took a deep breath and lifted again. Again nothing moved. On his final try, he lifted with all his might and the plough…did not move. He looked up to see his father watching him, the look of defeat again filling his eyes as he stepped out of the way and watched his father easily lift the plough and attach it to the team. The boy turned and walked away, hearing his father prod the team to work as he went about his daily routine.
After lunch each day, the boy found himself beyond the fields. It was his daily self taught ritual. It was a moment in time when he could be the mightiest warrior, even if he could not lift the plough. At the edge of the forest, next to the stream, he started looking for boulders he could lift. He would see one and try to lift it, and when he did he would find one bigger. If he could not lift it, he would look for a smaller one. It went back and forth for an hour in time before the boy finally walked back to the farm and finished his work for the day. But before leaving the stream, he always managed to find the biggest boulder he could muster the strength to lift and do so, tossing it onto the forest floor with the growl of a mighty warrior. He would unsheathe his imaginary sword and slash at his foes in the air all the while deflecting the imaginary incoming blows with his mighty warrior’s shield. When the enemy had fallen, he would stand proudly staring at the boulder…his words and stance filled with pride and his will to succeed. “In the name of Tyr, I serve you justice.” When speaking those words his imaginary sword in hand came from pointing at the boulder to his chest with a thud as the imaginary blade settled against his chin and stretched beyond the top of his head. It then was moved to pointing at the enemy once again. “I shall best you again on the morrow.” And with that proclamation his equipment vanished into thin air and he started running back to the farm.
Each evening, as Andrew sat down to supper, his father would say the evening meal prayer. Tyr would be thanked for all that was received and a prayer would be said for the weather and crops to be fruitful. In the busy thoughts of his mind and before the prayer ended, Andrew prayed so only he and Tyr could hear. He prayed for the strength and knowledge to one day serve Tyr in the way of being a Holy Warrior. He wished with all his heart to help people, to protect them and to serve justice throughout out the lands.
Twas only a few weeks after Andrew’s seventh birthday and on that day as he bent his knees to lift the plough; he had a feeling pass through him. He did not understand it, but he knew in his heart that he was going to lift the plough. He looked up and again, as always, his father was there, watching him. He spoke with a determination in his voice. “Today is the day father.” He then took a deep breath and lifted. The plough did not move. He again took a deep breath and lifted. Again, the plough did not move. On the third and final try of the day, he took another deep breath and lifted. He strained and felt the muscles in his legs burning, but slowly, the plough lifted from the ground. His face turned red and he growled his mighty warrior growl, and the plough continued to move upwards. When he had finally reached the point of contact, his father was there to attach the plough to the team. When Andrew saw it attached, he released his grip and the plough settled firmly in place. He grinned seeing it and immediately started jumping up and down. “I did it! I did it father!” He ran and hugged his father who returned his hug with a warm smile. “Indeed you did son, indeed you did.” As the boy raced excitedly around to lead the team to work, a saddened look came upon his father’s face. Andrew did not see it, but it was there, and it was time.
It was not long before Andrew was allowed to be in the fields alone with the team. He was a fast learner and adapted to new things well. As he worked the team one day, he looked across the field to see two horses carrying what looked to be formal riders. As they rode closer he noticed they were dressed the King’s formal riding attire. He curiously watched as he ploughed the field, wondering why they were at his father’s farm. He suddenly became worried that somehow his father was in trouble. With that thought, he began to direct the team back towards the barn. As he and the team reached it, Andrew saw his father speaking with the now dismounted riders. He unhitched the team and set them to pasture, left the plough in its place and walked towards his father.
As he slowly approached them, his father motioned him closer. “Andrew, these are the King’s guards. They are here to take you to the guard training you will be attending.” The boy looked to his father with a mixture of surprise, excitement, worry, and sadness all at once. He was confused. How in the world could a commoner’s boy be selected to train as a King’s guard? How did a farmer’s son all of a sudden become a student of the guard? How in the world…his mind stopped and he looked up at his father. “Today father?” His father smiled softly and shook his head. “Nay son, at the beginning of next week you will be schooling with the guard daily, returning here in the eves. We will talk about it at supper. For now, tis time for your lunch.” With that, Andrew was off again, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts; the most prevalent was that of being a King’s guard. His lunch time proclamation was different on this day. His movements with his imaginary sword and shield were with pride and vigor. Much more than he had showed previously. He spoke his final words to the boulder, however this time they were different. “In the name of Tyr, I serve you justice. Tyr has prevailed!” And instead of the imaginary sword coming to his chest, it was raised high in the air as the words were spoken.
The Schooling Begins
The following week Andrew began his page training. Every morning he would rise before the sun and tend to the duties he could before setting off for the castle grounds. The castle grounds were not far from the farm and his father sent him on his way with well wishes and a handshake. In his father’s eyes, he was now entering a more aged stage of his life and needed to begin being treated as a man, rather than a boy. His mother on the other hand felt that a seven year old should still get a good breakfast, a warm smile and hug before his short trek each day.
Page training began each day with lessons in mathematics, and other academics studies. He spent time studying the tenants of Tyr as well. The kingdom was devoted to Tyr and served justice in the lands. If there were laws to be upheld or justice to be served, it was the King’s guard who did such.
Andrew felt the academics were things he would need, but not enough to excel in them. He did however pay close attention to his religious studies, but what he really waited for were certain afternoons. Some afternoons were not as fun, because he was learning the fine art of cleaning stalls and caring for the horses. But every other day, after the noontime meal, he would head out to the fields. It was his favorite part of those days. Riding horses. He had ridden horses on his father’s farm, many times, but this was different. These were the King’s horses.
After his riding lesson for the day, Andrew spent the rest of those afternoons, learning the detailed techniques of wielding a sword and utilizing a shield. He stood in front of the quintain staring at it for a long while as if studying its next move. He had vowed to it every day, stating another of his proclamations. “By the hand of Tyr, I shall prevail!”
A quintain he found out was not the nicest piece of training equipment he faced as a page. It was a rather crude soldier, made up of a heavy sack in the form of a human. It was hung on a wooden pole along with a shield. The young page had to hit the shield in its center. When hit, the whole structure would spin around and around. The page had to maneuver away quickly without getting hit.
The first time Andrew had looked at it, he chuckled as he stood before it. His teacher explained to him the way to combat it, but Andrew was not really listening. In his mind, he knew how to defeat it; it was all a matter of timing. The teacher told him to try it. Andrew stood there, studying his opponent for some time before lunging forward. As his wooden sword hit the shield, the sack soldier spun around quickly, knocking him to the dirt. He lay there for a moment with a furrowed brow, wondering what had happened to his plan. He could hear the laughter of the other pages standing around him. Andrew found out that he was neither the quickest, nor the most agile page that day. It was that day that his vow to the quintain began.
Being defeated by the quintain day after day made Andrew realize something. He was not strong enough. He knew putting his focus into things such as speed and agility would help him succeed, but not enough to attain his goal. On his way home each day, Andrew stopped by the stream. He continued to lift the boulders, one by one as he used to do after lunch, before his page training started. When the sun finally set, he finished his trek home, but before he started walking, he practiced one final move. He lunged forward at the imaginary quintain. His imaginary sword hit the shield. He immediately turned his body the opposite direction and planted his feet. He thrust his upper body forward and stood solidly in place. In a matter of seconds he grunted as the imaginary quintain hit him. He stood in place and watched it fall to the ground. As he did so, he proclaimed, “In the name of Tyr, I serve you justice!”
It was quite some time after his page training began that Andrew stood before the quintain once again. As he did many times, he focused on the stance, balance and movements that would be required in order to defeat it. He lunged forward with his wooden sword. It struck the shield with a felling force. The structure spun around quickly as did he. He planted his feet, thrusting his upper body forward. The quintain hit him solidly with a thud. He blinked once and realized he was still standing. Just about the time that he began to smile, he was hit from behind and knocked to the dirt once again. The other pages laughed again and he looked up with a furrowed brow. The quintain, instead of falling to the ground as he predicted, had been hit with such force that it spun back around the other direction and hit him from behind. He slowly rose to his feet, staring at the quintain, disappointed that his plan did not include the unexpected. What Andrew learned that day was he not only had to be strong and disciplined in his stance, but he also had to be quick and agile.
At the age of fourteen, Andrew had mastered all the things required of a page. He had learned to ride horses well and care for them. He had learned to defeat the quintain, utilize a bow and arrow and he had learned the necessary academic studies to move on to squire hood. He had done well enough to attract the attention of one of the knights of the guard. This knight, Sir Thomas Gabriel, had chosen to sponsor and lead him into knighthood. The day finally came when it was time for Andrew to take up residency within the castle walls. At fourteen, he still did not understand how a farmer’s son managed to be where he was, but at this point he was asking no questions.
The Squire
Sir Thomas Gabriel was, by all accounts, the best knight in the guard to serve. His duties were those close to the King. Andrew wondered why such a knight would choose him above others, but again, he did not ask. Twas not his place to ask questions of such, but rather ones which would enhance his learning.
Being a squire was not an easy task but Andrew knew it was required to reach his goal. He felt more tired than he did as a page, but regardless of that, he served Sir Gabriel with a proud and honorable demeanor. Every day he awoke before the sun rose. Sleeping in a castle was not as he expected, nor was it as comfortable as being at home. But none the less, Andrew set about his duties every day with a smile.
His first tasks of the day included preparing himself for the rigors that were required of him each day. Once he was prepared, he then helped to prepare Sir Gabriel for his day by helping him dress, preparing his breakfast, his horse if needed, and learning to take care of his equipment. Cleaning Sir Gabriel’s armor and making it shine was not an easy task. Using sand, vinegar and to his surprise, urine, to clean the armor made for an extremely clean and shiny suit for the knight. Although, the amount of hard work put into it was equal to how much shine there was. It was no question that Sir Gabriel’s armor had to have the best shine, which meant the most work.
In the early days of squire hood, Andrew spent a good portion of them learning to wield his sword while wearing 40 pounds of armor and riding a horse. A squire's training concentrated on strength, fitness and skill with various weapons. Individual training was only part of the regimen, as knights also needed to know how to fight as part of a team of skilled horsemen. He faced a new type of quintain as well, one that was higher in the air, for training upon a horse.
After the evening meals, Andrew would learn about the chivalric codes of conduct and listen to epic tales of Sir Gabriel’s adventures. It was these times Andrew enjoyed the most, hearing of the battles won by the knight he now served. It made him proud to know he was under the wing of one with the knowledge Sir Gabriel had.
Andrew went with Sir Gabriel most everywhere, to include into battle. Andrew however was not taken into battle to fight, but to help Sir Gabriel if needed. If the knight’s sword broke, it was up to Andrew to get a new one to him, if one was not found reasonably close. There were many times Andrew felt the fear of dying before he managed to become a knight. One particular time however, was not while he was in battle. After a long day, when Andrew was about 18, he and Sir Gabriel had stopped at the local tavern on their way home from the day’s outing. They sat and drank ale while Sir Gabriel talked to a group of men traveling through the region. Andrew rarely drank alcohol, but this was one time he did as it was a request for Sir Gabriel to celebrate the coming of the squire’s knighthood. Andrew was close to him, and the two had talked of it more and more.
As Andrew listened to Sir Gabriel and the men, he realized these men were from the neighboring township. They were goading Sir Gabriel to fight them. They were taunting him and when they went so far as to threaten the King, Sir Gabriel acted. Unfortunately, Sir Gabriel had already had several ales and Andrew knew that was not good. His reflexes were hindered and his balance poor. Andrew watched as Sir Gabriel had told him to do. He watched as the six men took him down right outside the tavern. As Sir Gabriel fell, Andrew drew his sword and moved closer. It was the first time he had gone against Sir Gabriel’s words. The men turned to him and one spoke to him in a matter of fact tone. “Sheathe your weapon boy, or you shall lie in his pool of blood.” Andrew knew he could not defeat them. He knew if he continued to defy Sir Gabriel, he would join him on the ground. He made mental notes of everything he could about them as he slowly sheathed his sword. He stood silently as the men laughed and left. As they walked away, Andrew raced to kneel at Sir Gabriel’s side, but it was too late. They had killed him. Tears came to Andrew’s eyes and he leaned to down whisper in the man’s ear. “Sir Gabriel, you could have bested them easily had it not been for the ale. I shall not make the same mistake.” Andrew rose from his knees and dutifully collected Sir Gabriel’s belongings, strapping them to his horse. He held back the tears as he slowly and methodically took care of his knight. He carefully lifted Sir Gabriel and wrapped him in a large cloth, strapping him across the knight’s horse as well. Andrew climbed upon his own horse and led them home. Twas a slow silent walk home and Andrew’s last service to Sir Gabriel, the man who had become his best friend.
Into a Knight
During the next few months, Andrew adapted to life without Sir Gabriel. It was a difficult time in his life, but he knew in the end, he had duties to fulfill. He spent most days following the King, doing His bidding. When Andrew did get time alone, he used it wisely for his religious studies.
At the age of 20, Andrew was ready to be knighted. Twas a decision the King himself had discussed with Andrew. He had been through all of the necessary training he would need in order to fulfill the duties the King requested of him.
Andrew spent the night before the ceremony quietly in the church. He was dressed in simple clothing to prove his humility before his God. The priest took his sword and blessed it, then laid it upon the alter. Andrew prayed for purification of his soul throughout the night. Just before dawn, Andrew left the church. He returned to his quarters and then bathed to show his pureness. After breakfast, he prepared himself for the ceremony in his finest clothing. On his walk to the church he thought of Sir Gabriel. He so wished the knight could see him now. He would be proud. Andrew, a young lad when they met, had now grown into adulthood, full of pride and loyalty and destined to serve the King and Tyr.
When the ceremony began, Andrew walked forward and knelt before the King. Andrew once again wondered how and why he was where he was, and why the King was knighting him. Again he did not understand, nor did he ask. He pondered the fact that in Sir Gabriel’s absence the King decided to perform the ceremony, as from what he had noticed of prior ceremonies, this was highly unusual. He was then asked to recite his vow of knighthood.
“I promise, my King, to defend the weak, to be courteous to all women and children, to be loyal to you my King and to serve our God Tyr. I shall be humble to others, especially my superiors, and I shall not boast of my well doings. I shall serve justice throughout your lands and further beyond should duty call. I shall give mercy to a vanquished enemy, yet uphold the tenants set forth by Tyr. I shall reveal the truth, punish the guilty, right the wrong, and always be true and just in my actions. I shall uphold the law wherever I go and punish those who do wrong under the law. I shall keep a record of my own rulings, deeds, and decisions, for through this my errors can be corrected, my grasp on the laws of all lands will flourish, and my ability to identify lawbreakers will expand. I shall be vigilant in my observations and anticipations so I may detect those who plan injustices before their actions threaten law and order. I shall deliver vengeance to the guilty for those who cannot do it themselves.”
Andrew fell silent after his vow had been spoken. His eyes remained solidly fixed on the King. He then felt the tapping of his sword on each of his shoulders. The king handed him his sword, hilt first and Andrew kissed it before taking it. As he took it, the King proudly proclaimed him Sir Andrew Tormier, Knight of the Royal Guard. Andrew felt the surge of emotion run through him as he realized his dream had come true.
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