By Jamie Seidel
Sword and the Word
This learjet did not have the plush and luxurious outfitting of many of its business-class compatriots. Rather, its spartan interior spoke of the basic but functional efficiency the Militant Orders demanded of all equipment.
One of Reuben's companions sat opposite, across the narrow aisle, absently -- but efficiently -- stripping down and cleaning the weapon in his lap. Two other knights sat further apart, silently preparing themselves for the mission ahead.
Reuben was the only Hospitaller among the small band of knights: opposite was a Teutone and the other two belonged to the Order of the Temple. Holding the rank of Knight Lieutenant, Reuben would normally be in command of a combat team such as this. But this was no ordinary mission.
As his mind wandered, his body remembered a tenet of the Rule that had governed his life since becoming a knight so many years before: If you have no other task, see to your weapons. Almost instinctively, Reuben reached to the box at his feet -- lifting out the first item encountered. Automatically he began to disassemble the pistol, polishing each part before placing them separately on his lap.
Reuben turned his head to study the prayerful profile of his Templar commander: Knight Captain Thomas Threaston. The grey haired, grizzled captain was something of a legend among the Orders, being a member of the first small band of knights that had successfully hunted down and captured a vampire -- presenting it as irrefutable evidence to the Synod of Malta. His presence spoke of the seriousness of the mission, though details were still thin.
Reuben's hands had completed the task of breaking his weapon down, and now automatically reached for a phial of lubricant. The small city below had not been expected to produce severe trouble. Numbering only one million, only 10 vampires were expected to be counted among its populace.
But something had to have caused the complete loss of communication with the combat team sent there a month earlier. Reuben remembered the joyful face of a young Hospitaller sergeant who had been dispatched on this, his first mission. He was almost certainly dead.
The jet banked again, this time bringing the city into view through the portholes behind the Teutonic sergeant. Reuben's first glimpse of the city was a web of glittering lights, bordered on one side by the ocean and the other by a low mountain range -- the golden glow of dawn gently adorning the peaks. It was a shame that something so beautiful could hide something as evil and vile as a vampire. Assembling the gun once again, Reuben paused to look at its battered handle. While the Glock 18 was a relatively new gun, it had been used hard since being placed within Reuben's care. Like all Reuben's possessions, it did not belong to him.
With only minutes left before landing, Reuben lifted his sword from its secure packaging under a Vatican Diplomatic Seal. This seal, and that of his own Order, was central in getting the Militant Order's equipment past custom's scrutiny all over the world. This was his second sword: the first having been shattered in the grip of a vengeful vampire. Only the quick actions of his companions had saved his life that day. It was a personal tragedy, losing one's first sword. He could still remember the day when it was given to him: "Take this sword; its brightness stands for faith, its point for hope and the guard for charity. Use it well . . . ".
The new blade was in all ways the same as the first -- and yet it was not the same.
Testing its edge with his thumb, Reuben was satisfied with the clean part in his skin that had not drawn blood. Reuben re sheathed the sword as the learjet made its final descent. Looking up, he saw the anticipation in the eyes of his colleagues and prayed silently for a successful outcome.
Reuben's heart lifted when he saw the chapel. The drive from the airport under dawn's early rays had not impressed him. The rust-stained hulks of abandoned warehouses and factories were the first shapes to welcome him to this new country. The imposing and blocky skyscrapers of the inner-city did little more to impress.
But the old stone chapel somehow stood in a pool of morning light. The besieging gloom of long shadows seemed incapable of storming the hallowed walls. It was not a large building, in the sense of the enormous Gothic Cathedrals, but its perfectly proportioned and suitably adorned facade spoke volumes about the faith of its constructors.
Alongside were the church's offices, guest rooms and the cloister of a convent -- all built of the same pale blue sandstone. The knights had not said much to one another since their arrival. Each was engaged in his own private contemplation of this new and dangerous environment. None could shake the thought that these dark, towering glass walls somewhere contained the secrets of their missing comrades.
As the cars pulled up in front of the chapel, and the knights emerged, a sombre chime began to ring from the stunted belltower. Locals turned their heads toward the sound as they walked past. It was not often nowadays that they felt its reassuring caress.
Standing at the head of the stairs was the local Bishop -- resplendent in all his official finery. Signalling to a nearby attendant, the bishop gave instructions for the knights to be taken away. They were expected to attend chapel within half an hour, in full Militant regalia.
Few places enforced this ancient but traditional ritual of greeting. Reuben felt oddly reassured that the ceremony was taking place here.
Brother Thomas led the small parade down the aisle. Reuben followed, with the Teutone and the remaining Templar behind. It was a private ceremony, attended only by the church's officers and the nuns of the convent. As the four knights walked down the aisle to their appointed places, veiled heads turned and hushed whispers danced around the hall. Few of the sisters realised what the strange, cross-adorned mantles and surcoats represented. Some identified the black habit and white Maltese cross of Reuben's ceremonial robes, but few could place the white mantles of the Templars and the Teutone with their red and black crosses respectively.
The startled murmurs fell away quickly as the Bishop turned from the altar. With the knights standing -- not kneeling -- he lifted his arms and gave blessing.
"Brothers, welcome to our humble city. I regret not having received your predecessors in a similar manner, and now it seems too late. Troubled times have befallen our people, but it is comforting to know the swords of the Militant Order's stand beside us."
At this, excited murmurs sprung once again from the hall -- quickly silenced by the doleful glare of the mother superior. Turning toward the altar, the Bishop raised his arms once again. "Let us give thanks to the Lord for He is truly good . . . "
Reuben waited impatiently outside the doctor's consulting rooms. Three weeks of intense investigation had revealed much about the city's accursed occupants. They appeared little worried about concealing their presence -- only their identities.
Teutonic knight Karl Orselensen had quickly identified the rise of a satanic cult among the street urchins, revolving around moon and blood worship. This had provoked Reuben's greatest fears; this was no ordinary band of vampires: it was the Sabbat. Little progress had been made as to the fate of the knights. It had become quickly obvious that the local bishop had "disapproved" of the team as its commander, a Teutonic Knight Lieutenant, had been a woman.
Reuben's own investigations had located an unwitting victim of one of these blood ceremonies. Now, his international standing as a blood-disorder research scientist had gained him access to the delirious young girl, who doctors said bore unusual puncture wounds on her throat.
Her psychiatric doctor had described her as a "paranoid schizophrenic", deluded by fears of devils tracking her down for her blood. The fact that her friends had disappeared under strange circumstances had little impact on the professional's diagnosis. The psychiatric hospital in which he sat more resembled a hotel -- such was the attitude towards treating mentally disturbed "guests." Reuben approved. The door swung silently open. A casually dressed nurse moved into the room, her haggard eyes betraying the difficulties of her profession.
"Dr Reuben, Sara is ready to see you now."
Reuben got up from his chair quickly, the familiar bulk of his shoulder holster brushing against his chest. He always carried it there, just in case. . . Stepping into the room, Reuben saw a pathetic sight before him. A young woman, little more than 16-years of age, sat uncomfortably in a corner. Dressed in a white smock, her pale features and limp posture betrayed her heavy sedation.
"You have 10 minutes. I'll be outside if you need anything." The nurse closed the door behind her.
Reuben glanced about the room, quickly taking in the comfortable but functional surroundings. Moved again by the destitute sight, Reuben muttered a short prayer beneath his breath -- calling upon God to restore strength to her spirit. A familiar, gentle tingle washed through his body. Reuben knew his prayer had been answered, even before the girl lifted her head and smiled -- the barest hint of life sparkling again in her eyes.
"Hello . . . Sara isn't it?" Reuben barely heard the meek, breathed reply.
"Well, Sara, I'm not like the other doctors you've seen. I know what happened to you was real, and I'm here to do something about it."
Surprise lifted her head higher, though her insidious fear soon clouded her features once again.
"There's no point. They'll get you too, just like the others." Reuben's heart bounded. "The others?"
"Yes. You're one of them, aren't you? One of the knights?" Reuben forced down his surprise, breathing carefully before replying. "Yes I am. I am of the Order of St John, the Hospitallers. But I'd rather you not tell anyone that."
Sara looked up again, a slight hint of a smile curling her lips. "Yes. There was one of you with the others. He was nice." She looked away, her face saddened. "He's dead now, though."
A surge of sorrow welled up inside Reuben. The young knight had shown promise. "I'm sorry to hear that. He was my friend." Reuben turned, giving her a moment for her thoughts. Pulling up a chair, he sat before her, waiting for her attention to return. "Tell me Sara . . . tell me about the knights. What happened to them?"
She shifted uneasily on her seat. Reuben noticed the limpness had almost gone from her young body and color was returning to her face. He smiled inside, rejoicing in the power of his Lord. "They found us . . . mucking around in an old warehouse. We had drawn pentagrams on the floor. We'd been drinking . . . I'd thought it was nothing but a game."
As Sara hesitated, Reuben felt anger at how easily his enemy preyed upon the adventurous and naive nature of youth. He had heard this story, oh so many times . . .
"Then suddenly Brother Anthony was there. We all stopped. I . . . I was embarrassed . . . We had no clothes on. He simply walked over, put out the burners and erased the pentagram with his heel. He didn't shout or anything. We were all so shocked that we did nothing to stop him."
Reuben felt an up welling of pride for the dead knight. He had conducted himself perfectly in a situation that could easily have provoked outrage. Reuben breathed a short prayer, commending Anthony's soul to heaven.
Then, with a sob, the whole story bubbled forth. She told of how Anthony had won their support, helping them to deceive their coven as to their loyalty and compliance. Once the group of friends were invited to attend a "blood initiation rite" in an abandoned country town, the knights had prepared an ambush. It had gone horribly wrong. Sara's boyfriend had betrayed them all. She had escaped into the shadows only through a desperate diversion created by Anthony. She did not know what happened to him -- or the others -- only that no-one returned from the ghost town that night.
Reuben led the sobbing girl from the room, giving her arm to the beleaguered nurse. He was without doubt that Sara would soon recover fully from her affliction, though the scars of memory would pain her for the rest of her life.
The cold night air chilled Reuben as he slung his sword over his shoulder, tightening the belt at his chest. The sun had just set, and the full moon had already begun its march across the heavens.
A little more than five minutes ago he had made the rendezvous with his companions at the lonely hillside road-stop. The four cars were parked in a protective circle, the knights donning their combat equipment quickly and efficiently.
His hands automatically began a re-check of his gear: spare magazine on the left forearm and right thigh -- check; bayonet on left calf -- check; stun grenades right hip -- check; magazine pouch on rear belt -- check . . .
His dark grey fire retardant suit hid the moulded ballistic plastic armor plates attached to his body. With armor and sword, he was as ready for battle as his brethren had been in the deserts of old Outremer.
Glancing around, Reuben saw the other knights had also finished gearing up. Brother Orselensen, who would act as supportman, hefted his HK-G11 assault rifle. The burly but quiet Austrian brother's role called for strong firepower in order to support other engaged knights. Knight Captain Threaston stood over the bonnet of his car, going over a map of the abandoned town one last time. The Templar Knight Sergeant, Ian Dulette, was on point. He cradled the standard MP2000 in his arms, but his webbing was laden with extra items such as bolt cutters and plastic explosives.
Brother Dulette was the one who had discovered the Coven was planning another ceremony at the town to mark their victory over the previous combat team. He and Captain Threaston had encountered a ghoul trying to procure young victims at a parkside debutante ball. Fearing both for his life and his soul, the pitiful creature told the knights all he knew. He now rested securely under the care of a local Dominican monastery.
It would be a tough fight. It was a full moon. Somehow the Sabbat drew strength from this.
Reuben pulled on his respirator. Though cumbersome and bulky, it served the double purpose of protecting against any disruptive gases and concealing his identity. He had worn the mask so often now during training he hardly noticed its presence. Reuben's role was that of defenseman and medic. His haversack contained most of the combat team's explosives and medical supplies. In action, it was his specific task to protect the pointsman and act as second in command.
"Alright, brothers. This is it. May the Lord look with favor upon our purpose."
Reuben slipped a magazine into the breach of his MP2000 as Captain Threaston ordered the small company into action.
It was the early hours of the morning when Reuben belly crawled into the small depression on the side of town that represented the knights' command post. Sliding alongside Captain Threaston, Reuben made his gruesome report.
He had found the remains of Brother Anthony before the altar of a ruined church. The knight sergeant had perished from grenades tossed into the roofless building after slaying a vampire that had braved the holy ground. The fact that his body had not yet been removed indicated the grounds still protected him from evil, making it difficult for any Kindred to approach.
Reuben placed the fused plastic form of Anthony's automatic pistol in Threaston's hands. The blessed weapon had obviously melted itself in the hands of a vampire, preventing its use for wrongdoing.
Captain Threaston took the weapon reverently, placing it in his backpack. "He fought bravely and well. Martyrdom is his -- we should all be thankful."
Threaston lifted his image-enhancing field glasses to his eyes. "We have not found the others. There are bullet holes and blast marks aplenty, though. It was obviously a fierce fight."
Twisting onto one elbow, Threaston handed Reuben the glasses. "We've found the Sabbat. There's a group of twenty people sitting silently in the darkness on the east end of town. They started a chant about 10 minutes ago and lit their little incense burners. Give them another five minutes and they'll all be as high as clouds."
Reuben peered through the glasses. The stark black and white image jumping into his awareness.
"Ian and Karl are in the trees, waiting for instructions. We'll move once the blood-suckers arrive."
The town was hardly that. The small cluster of about 10 houses focused on what was the regional church and school grounds. That was obviously a long time ago.
As Reuben lifted his glasses to the wood, his eye caught movement among the foliage about the reveller's small clearing. Six shadowy figures surrounded the glen before waiting motionless. The ritual was not yet complete. Silently imploring God to reveal the forms' nature, Reuben's senses perceived a pale nimbus emanating from the shapes. "Captain, I think they've just arrived."
With silent speed only brought about by intense training, both knights rapidly closed the ground between them and the heathens.
Upon ducking into the cover of the trees, Captain Threaston thumbed the small button controlling his respirator mask's small radio unit. He spoke in Latin. "We go in once they approach their herd."
That was all that needed to be said. With the help of his training, Reuben knew exactly where to expect his companions to emerge. Lifting his submachinegun, he centred the infra-red sights on the cold torso of a vampire standing within his designated field of fire.
The noise from the coven increased. The chant was becoming desperate, the participants enthralled by drug induced ecstasy -- flinging their now naked bodies about in a primitive dance. Swiftly but silently, the vampires moved forward -- toward their prey.
Simultaneously, Captain Threaston's weapon spat softly -- three rounds leapt from the silenced and flash-suppressed weapon. Instantly the other knights followed suit. Reuben tightened the grip on his own trigger, sending two accurately controlled bursts at the two vampires within his zone. Both shapes jerked with the impact of a possible 15 9mm shells each. Both went down to the ground.
Quickly glancing around, he saw three of the other vampires were also down. The sixth had dashed into the middle of the now screaming mass of unclad bodies, grabbing two and holding them against him.
Automatically, Reuben leapt up -- shouldering his gun and drawing his sword. At the edge of his perception he saw his comrades following suit.
Rushing forward, Reuben's blade flashed dimly in the moonlight. The closest of his vampires had struggled to its knees, its wounds already mostly healed. Quickly, Reuben swung his sword. The decapitated creature's head barely had time to touch the ground before it dissolved.
Dust, smoke and screams filled the night air. But the sight before Reuben stood out clearly. The second vampire, it's teeth bared and claws extended was advancing rapidly. A wave of fear passed quickly -- Reuben knew what it was he faced, and had long since given his life to the Lord's service. Death would only bring him closer to God. Quickly reaching for his thigh-holstered pistol, Reuben hesitated. Many worshippers had begun running frantically towards the town and were passing behind his quarry.
His hesitation cost him.
The vampire leapt forward at superhuman speed, its claws raking deep scores across his fireproof suit. A brief moment of surprise flashed across the creature's face as its talons encountered the armor.
Before Reuben could react, the vampire flung a punch at Reuben's head -- sending him to the ground, mind reeling. Struggling to free his bayonet, a piercing cry cut through the clearing.
"Desparte Ferre."
The vampire, now stooping, ready to tear out his throat, recoiled in fear. Then its body was rent with the impact of dozens of fletchette rounds. Brother Karl had a good eye. . .
The vampire turned as if to run, but stumbled into the path of Captain Threaston instead. With the flash of a blade, another vampire returned to whence it should have been -- dust.
Reuben struggled to his feet, taking in the scene rapidly. On the far side of the fire was the sixth vampire, still clutching close the painted body of a woman. Karl stood at stand-off, his assault rifle shouldered.
Brother Dulette was slumped against a tree, blood welling up from under his armor. His face was blank under the pain-reducing meditation all knights were taught as a novice. Captain Threaston was scanning the tree line, seeking a vampire that had escaped.
Reuben scrambled over to the wounded Brother and quickly examined the wound. A piece of his own armor had gouged into the flesh under his left rib-cage. Dulette's life-blood was ebbing away.
Imploring mercy, Reuben prayed in all earnestness for Dulette's life. Placing his hands above the wound, the holy tingle surged through his body and the blood flow slowed. Seeing his chance, Reuben quickly grabbed a medical kit and rapidly applied dressings and sedatives.
All this time he could hear and feel the supernatural standoff occurring behind him. But he knew his brothers could handle it, and concentrated on his task.
Finished, Reuben felt drained -- his spiritual Grace was obviously wearing thin. He stood and turned to the drama unfolding behind him. Four powdery patches defiled the ground, each marking the final death of one of the Corrupt.
The vampire was in the form of a young man, decked out in all the black leather trappings of a motorcycle gang member. The form of a young woman hung limp in the vampire's grip -- mercifully unconscious.
Captain Threaston made a slow display of sheathing his sword. Gradually stretching his arms out in front of his body, he spoke in a soothing tone.
"Come now. You are obviously young in the blood. There is still a chance to reconcile your soul with the Lord. Let the girl go."
"Don't give me that bullshit," came the rasping reply as it wrenched the girl's head higher. "What about the others -- you didn't give them a chance to play 'confession' time!"
Threaston took a small step closer. "You were all warned by the knights who arrived two months ago."
"Yeah! We kicked their butts real fine" the creature spat. "I'll have your blood nicely chilled in a champagne bottle before this is all over."
Threaston took another soft step forward.
"Don't come any closer, man, or this girl's a rag doll."
Reuben slowly retrieved his sword -- his MP2000 was too far away.
The vampire saw him. Without hesitation, it moved to wrench the girl's neck.
Before it's arm had gained sufficient leverage, a hail of fletchette's ripped through the creature's face -- tearing off part of its skull. The vampire went down, dropping the unconscious girl into the fire as it collapsed.
"No!" bellowed Karl, dropping his gun and sprinting to the fire. Threaston was closer. He dived into the flames, lifting the now screaming girl out of the heat as he rolled. He jumped up, brushing the clinging cinders from his fire retardant suit. Reuben immediately ran to the girl's side, rolling her onto her unharmed front. Large charred welts extended from her thigh to her shoulders.
Karl did not hesitate. He kept running, pulling the safety cap off a flare as he ran. The vampire was almost on its feet again, its shattered skull miraculously whole. Karl leapt at the creature, thrusting the spark-spitting torch at its face. It reeled back in horror, but retained enough presence of mind to lash out with a desperate kick.
It struck Karl on the hip with a sickening crunch of bone. The sergeant stumbled, but to the creature's surprise remained standing.
Karl reached for his pistol: the vampire turned and ran. Lifting the pistol to a firing pose, the Teutone let go a full 18 round clip of 9mm shells. He saw some impact, but the creature sill kept going.
Threaston charged past, his own pistol in hand. With the vampire out of sight, Karl sprawled on the ground -- a moan of pain escaping from his lips.
Reuben, seeing the girl was out of any immediate danger, went to his brother knight's side.
"I'm sorry brother, but I'm all used up." He hesitated. "I've only got enough Graal water for the other two, I'm sorry." Reuben removed a pain-killing needle from his pouch, injecting it into the crumpled hip.
Karl chuckled: "Our Hospitaller has all his ward's full. Don't worry. Leave me some time to meditate and I'll make a start on it myself." More seriously: "Bring me my gun, they may return yet."
Reuben complied before removing his rucksack and pulling out a small metal phial. Pouring some over the sobbing girl's wounds, he looked on with wonderment as the blisters receded and the welts closed. God's power never ceased to amaze him.
After muttering a few words of encouragement, he moved to Dulette's side, lifting the phial to his lips. The Teutone coughed and spluttered, then fell into a deep sleep.
Threaston came jogging back into the clearing, his movement tracked all the way into the light by Karl's assault rifle. "They both got away."
"Sire, I have come before God, before you and the brothers and sisters of this Order, and I beg and require you in the name of God and of Our Lady to accord to me your company and the benefits of the house, as one who will henceforth always be its servant and slave."
Reuben allowed himself a smile as the familiar words echoed around the old stone chamber. His stark black robes stood out among the white-clad company he was in. This was a chapter meeting of the Teutonic Knights. While not unprecedented, it was rare for a member of one Order to attend a Chapter of another.
But then, these were rare circumstances.
The supplicant before the altar had been sponsored by Reuben as a novice for his own Order. However, her skills and ambition soon proved beyond what the Hospitallers were prepared to grant women.
Her solution was simple: petition the Teutonic Knights for a "transfer." Such a move had caused quite a stir among the Orders, but Reuben -- as her guarantor -- had supported her every move.
It was five years after finding the emotionally bruised but determined young Sara sleeping on the steps of a foreign chapel -- awaiting the return of his combat team from confronting the creatures that had done her harm.
Now, Reuben watched as they grey novitiate cloak was taken from her shoulders, and the Knight-Preceptor stepped forward with a white mantle with the Teutone's black "iron" cross. "Good sister, you are asking a great thing, for you see only the outer shell of our religion. . . "
Reuben had seen her rarely in the intervening years, though reports from her superiors demonstrated the promise of her abilities and the strength of her faith. Five years was a short time in which to complete a novitiate and gain all the skills necessary to become a knight. Reuben hoped she had learnt well, as her life and those of others depended upon it.
"Take this sword, its brightness stands for faith, its point for . . . "
A twinge of sadness intruded upon Reuben's thoughts. The blade she was about to receive had belonged to Brother Anthony who sacrificed his life in order to save hers. Reuben prayed she would do honor to its previous owner.
The ceremony drew near its close: the atmosphere charged with emotion and worship.
Sara stood before the chapter, presenting herself to her comrades. The Knight-Preceptor turned from the altar:
"Now go, may God make you worthy men."
Sara smiled.
Humble initiates, we welcome you among the warriors of Christ. We who compiled this work hope and pray that you will honour and serve the Word within, dedicate yourself to restoring purity to this sick and corrupt world, strive to nurture the sick, toil to shield the defenseless, and educate the unlearned in the Will and Mercy of our Lord and God. To have come so far to be able to hold this tome in your hands you must already have received the blessing of pure faith through the Holy Trinity. By now, you have taken Holy vows dedicating your life and your strength to the fight against evil.
We, the Militant Orders, exist as God's sword arm. As the Church is known as the Cloth, being as they are, like a secure blanket against the cold breath of Sin, so are the Knights of Christ called the Sword -- the tool used by the hand of God to administer his Righteous wrath.
My Brother, it is a great burden that we bear -- a Holy responsibility.
But the foundation of this great purpose is a complex one. Buried deep in the history of our respective Orders are the seeds of our divine purpose.
Do not search for enlightenment within these pages -- that is in the domain of your own heart and the grace of the Holy Spirit. But the doctrine and histories contained herein will serve you well in your fight against the Kindred.
This devotion in the Lord separated them from the money and land hungry secular knights of the 12th century. While the Militant Orders were quickly endowed with the riches of the land, as individuals they were forbidden the more frivolous and unclean aspects of life. While this removed our brothers from the mainstream of medieval knighthood, it developed their military skills to a degree higher than any other army of that time. God's Sword was blessed in the standards of their training and discipline, the construction and defence of castles, and the tactics of warfare. Our Lord saw fit to see that the idea of a military monk was embraced with great enthusiasm throughout Christendom. Gifts poured in -- especially of land and money -- enabling His Orders to expand in the Holy Land. By the middle of the 12th century, there was a Templar or Hospitaller preceptory in every province and in most major towns and cities. Christ's knights were blessed with a high degree of independence from the Church. After Pope Innocent II issued the bull Omne datum optimum (every great gift) about 1130AD, the Templars were exempted from all earthly authority -- except that of Christ's Vicar, the Pope. To our shame, the relationship between the different Orders (especially the Templars and Hospitallers) was rarely warm. By the 1240s, knights from each Order were fighting openly in the streets of Acre -- most likely due to professional jealousy and rivalry. This sin of pride permeated the Orders until well into the 13th century. Only the revelation of Satan's control over God's people was strong enough to bring his knights together. The Militant Orders were left to themselves to defend the Holy Land -- the desire to reap the rewards of pillage proving too much for most Crusaders. Our brother's invested huge sums in the construction a chain of castles, some of which never fell to the enemy. Their fighting reputation was such that, in 1187AD, after the Battle of Hattin, when the Infidel commander Saladin captured about 200 Templars and Hospitallers, all Church knights were summarily executed on the grounds that they were "the firebrands of the Franks."
Because both the Hospitallers and Templars had to live in the Holy Land and their monastic vows deplored unnecessary violence, they entered into almost continuous negotiations with local Muslim leaders. This often resulted in differing perspectives from that of the Cloth and other crusaders, sometimes resulting in open dispute.
In order to finance our massive commitment of resources to the Holy Land, the Hospitallers and Templars both became heavily involved in banking and diplomacy. By the mid 13th century, the Militant Orders were lending large sums of money to kings and provinces.
Eventually, the Templars were destroyed by the corrupted King Philip IV of France. While influenced by the blood of Cain, he also owed large sums to the Order and had been refused initiation.
The Hospitallers evaded Philip's might through the purity of their reputation and lived on, defending Rhodes first, then Malta, against incursions from the Infidel. The Teutones conducted their own crusades into the Slavic nations east of Germany, destroying many enclaves of Kindred before their powers waned.
The nursing monks of the Knights Hospitaller noted strange injuries and tales among pilgrims who had been accosted while travelling through the Holy Lands, especially Syria. The knights Templar, sworn to protect the pilgrim routes from robbers and Muslim raids, heard similar tales and lost several brothers under strange circumstances.
Stories of similar acts of "Satan" continued arriving in a steady stream. The Order became so concerned that it began hiring a new group of pious warriors -- the Poor Knights of Christ and the Temple of Jerusalem -- to escort the Order's members about the Holy Land. Raymond du Puy also convinced King Baldwin to allow a detail of 20 armed Hospitaller monks to guard the tomb of Christ, lest it be defiled by powerful demons. These "Canons of the Holy Sepulchre" were the foundations of the Orders militant arm. Du Puy appealed to the Pope to allow the Order to develop its own militant Rule (the Templars had by now become an independent Order) which was to be fully established by the end of the 1130s.
Upon learning this, the Templar Grand Master Robert de Craon met with the Grand Master Ramond du Puy of the Hospitallers. Together, they formulated a campaign to learn about these creatures and eradicate them. Vampires were one of the few subjects that drew the Hospital and the Temple together in cooperation.
Since that time, the Orders have gathered one of the largest repositories of knowledge on vampires and vampire lore. The existence of Werewolves and other creatures of ill-aspect were also discovered, but none were considered as abhorrent as the Cainites.
Legends about the vampire and her kind sparked the memories of Hochmeister Salza, who swallowed his pride and approached the Hospitallers for assistance. Several experienced Hospitaller officers were sent to the region to instruct the Teutones in suitable vampire combat techniques.
The vampiress was eventually overcome -- though at great expense in men. Two Hospitaller Knight Captains died while trying to contain her powers, and a Hospitaller Knight Lieutenant was maimed for life. Almost three dozen Teutones died in combat against her ghouls and herd. This was a shocking blow to the young Order, for it had lost a sizeable proportion of its combatant knights. Humbled that such a small group could do so much damage, the Teutones never again became complacent about the powers and Corruption of the undead. The Teutones went on to create a comprehensive treatise on the vampires of Transylvania and the Balkans. Somewhere among these records is likely to be mention of the progenitor of Count Dracula himself.
When the Holy Land Templars returned to Europe, they set about cleansing the heart of Christendom of the Corrupt. It was the Templars activity against vampires in Europe that eventually brought about the Order's downfall. Their Grand Master was appalled when he discovered even high-ranking members of the Church -- and even their own Order -- were Cainites or Cainite-bound. While the Knights of True Faith had fought valiantly in the Holy Land against the enemies of God, corruption had begun to eat away the Order in Europe. Knights motivated by greed and power forgot the strictures of the Rule, modifying it to suit their own purposes. The Kindred, seeking a means to destroy such a dangerous and powerful group, infiltrated the Orders ranks through their relationship with the Cathars.
When Pope Innocent III proclaimed a Crusade against a band of heretics known as the Cathars in 1213AD, the Templars did not respond to his call. Their reluctance to fight this group, who believed the material world was evil (and openly criticised the Church's extravagance) and that the spiritual world was all important, drew the anger of the Pope and senior Church clerics.
However, they underestimated the extent of Kindred power and influence. The Cathars, who the Templars refused to fight and whom they had fought to save, were to become the source of their downfall.
Many of the Cathars were vampires, and some of them were welcomed into the French Preceptories with open arms. The Templars held a particular sympathy for the Cathars, largely because of similarities in their doctrine and beliefs.
Slowly, but surely, carefully avoiding those with the True Faith, these Cainite infiltrators began planting false evidence in AD1305 to bring the Order down. Pope Clement, initially supportive of the Templars, was embraced by the vampire King Philip IV "the fair" of France. Under this cunning vampire's control, the Pope was unable to exert his influence to stop the calamitous allegations being laid against the Order -- though his conscience was enough to prevent his open support. Other Templars, either dominated by the will of strong Vampires or blood-bound, were used to plant false evidence against their comrades. While such testimony was rarely believed, it provided enough confusion to ruin the credibility of the Templars legal defence.
Even though the Order was brought down, its surviving members retained massive public support. Within months of the death of the Grand Master at the stake, our brothers and their friends had worked their revenge with the deaths of both Philip and Clement.
Throughout Europe, small bands of disenfranchised Templars milled about in confusion. While their Order was disbanded, their vows were still valid. Most who had not protested their innocence and were thus burned at the stake were given a healthy pension. Many tried to continue living under the Rule, with one group in Germany having to be removed from their lands by military force.
The Templars' elite band of vampire hunter's were also widely dispersed and disorganised. Some actually joined the same Inquisition that destroyed their Order, while others banded together to create the nucleus that was later to become the Arcanum.
Some fled, seeking refuge among those who were once their enemies. Becoming mages of power, they retained their Templar name, though their Rule was heavily corrupted over the centuries.
One small group remained true to their traditions. In the heartlands of Scotland, a country excommunicated by the Church, the Templars remained living under the Rule, respected and with local support.
Over time, the Scottish Templars links with the Masons grew stronger, and the need for secrecy changed the way in which they operated. For some time the Scots Guard in France maintained the Templars fighting tradition, though the Order's strong traditions eventually waned even here. The scattered remnants of the Poor Knights of Christ were gathered together in the mid 1980s -- reformed for a new Crusade. Some groups were left alone, for they no longer represented the ideals under which the Order was established. Others were not interested in re-establishing links with the Church. However, enough was recovered to return the Order to its previous glory.
The Hospitallers and Teutones contributed enormously to the eradication of Corruption. While refusing to assist the Inquisition directly, the Church Knights used their knowledge and powers to covertly track down and destroy true evil. Very few innocents died at the hands of the Church Knights.
This disastrous age, which saw the rise of the Camarilla's power in 1435, resulted in a desperate ploy to avert the attention of the Inquisition: the Masquerade. As more and more vampires came under the yolk of the Camarilla, the harder it became for Inquisitors and Church Knights alike to find Cain's children.
Taking this to mean success, both religious organisations turned their attention elsewhere. The Church Knights believed the hold of the Kindred to be broken: that any further encounters would only be with young vampires, alone and unlearned in ancient lore.
Both Orders were distracted by other matters, and the Cainite Masquerade had its desired effect. The Teutones were increasingly put under pressure to maintain their Reich in the Baltic nations. The Hospitallers found more and more of their resources dedicated to keeping the Mediterranean free from the Infidels.
Neither forgot the power of the undead. Regular sweeps were made of their lands and members to detect and eradicate any Kindred corruption. Eventually, such precautions became a matter of course -- with little real effort put into them. The Kindred appeared to be vanquished.
Though the Teutones eventually lost their fight against time, our brothers the Hospitallers remain active to the present day.
An elaborate international espionage network was established in the 15th century, among its primary tasks was to monitor the strength and extent of Kindred influence. This network is maintained by our brothers even today.
The result was an international search to uncover the fragmented remains of the Templars and Teutonic knights. Through organisations such as the Freemasons, who were later to join the Synod, and the remaining Teutonic nursing charities and secret military organisations, the Militant Orders were re-established.
Each Order received the backing of the denominations most suited to it -- the Teutones gained the Reformation Churches the Hospitallers the traditional churches such as the Catholics, the Templars a mix including the Anglicans and Freemasons. Members of each Order do not have to belong to any particular denomination, though each Order's differing philosophy attract different members.
The Orders, while independent, agreed to put aside their theological differences and unite their skills in the battle against the undead. This cooperation, while sometimes shaky, has so far been effective.
Now brothers, we are taking the battle into the streets and fields of the developed world. Our quest to destroy corruption in its heartland is at its peak. Young knights like yourselves face the greatest challenge since our forbears recaptured the Holy Land almost a millennium ago.
The lessons of the past have been well learned. No-one can become a brother of the Militant Orders unless they can demonstrate the high levels of Faith you have. Only those blessed with the powers of the Holy Spirit can become a knight.
To maintain this integrity, the strict Rule of the ancient Orders has been revived and must be observed. The vows of poverty, chastity and obedience do much to nourish our Faith, as well as focus determination and dedication. Supplementary members of the Orders are being kept to a minimum to prevent a repeat of the infiltration under Philip IV. Remember, brothers, ware the evil within.
Each Order maintains an independent headquarters, guarded by their most powerful knights and warded by our combined Faith. The active knights are dispersed around the world, their locations by necessity kept secret even from each other.
Once a breach in the Masquerade is discovered, teams of knights such as yourselves will be dispatched to destroy the Cainite's organisation and power -- without compromising either their or our identity to the public.
Low-level cooperation is established with the Arcanum, the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) Special Squad, the Centre for Disease Control, the Department of Internal Affairs (DIA), the Special Intelligence Service (SIS) and MI5. None of these organisations know the extent or power of the Militant Orders, but believe them to be a militant arm of the Inquisition.
Remember brother, only use these organisations in times of dire need. Their integrity is suspect, their motives unknown. Beware most of the Society of Leopold. This name disguises the Inquisition. Their misguided beliefs and corrupted powers are an offence in the eyes of God. Do not trust them, and report their presence whenever encountered.
But the Church remains the House of God and the channel for his Word. Because of this, all Churches are respected and Holy institution to all Knights. While each Militant Order is completely separate of any particular denomination, all have recognised the importance of inter-denominational cooperation. While the Order's are all independent of direct Church control, the relationship remains close with continuous dialogue between senior representatives. However, the purity of the Church is itself largely suspect. Only those the Knights recognise as having True Faith are truly trusted. Other members of the Churches are only allowed to know a knight's corresponding rank within the clergy.
Vampires and those they control can even be found within Church hierarchies. These Corrupt will do all they can to discredit the Orders and revoke the support of their denomination. However, there is a strong ground-swell of support among the pastors and priests in the field, those who actually have to deal with the discarded residue of kindred activity. The internal wrangling is continuous, with the pendulum swaying from one side to the other continually. The outcome cannot be predicted. Nevertheless, the sanctuary of the Church can be sought world-wide. Assistance in almost any form can be obtained from individual congregations -- if the right people are approached. This help is often vital during the first and final stages of any campaign against the Kindred.
The yolk of their kind must be removed forever.
Releasing these spirits from their agony can involve a variety of methods. Quests may be necessary to right ancient wrongs, ensure the safety of their progeny -- or even righteous revenge. Others may simply require the appropriate ritual to satisfy their "souls". The process is not always approved of by the Ghost. Some may not realise the knights good intention, others may not want to change their existence or face their own judgement day. Strong resistance can make an exorcism extremely difficult.
Contacts must be chosen with care. Public servants can be motivated by honour and concern just as easily as they can be by corruption and vice. Some are even prepared to put their job on the line for "the better good of the community." Journalists are often in this category, though the media proprietors may not. The journalistic principles of freedom of information and community protection (plus the enjoyment they find while "hounding" prominent and powerful people) can often be useful to employ.
It is generally acknowledge that the Roman Catholic Church learned of the Kindred during the Inquisition. Instituted in 1229, the Inquisition concerned itself with the suppression of various heresies spreading through Europe. Partially in response to the rise of the Catharist heresy in the south of France and northern Italy, Pope Innocent IV approved the use of torture in 1252.
As instigators of the destruction of the Templars and because of their "less than caring" attitude toward "collateral damage", the modern Inquisition is considered a bunch of renegades by the Militant Orders. Their assistance is not sought after. Assistance is also rarely given. It is believed the Inquisition perceives the Militant Orders as a major threat to their existence and is seeking ways to discredit them.
The Militant Orders refused to take part in the Crusades against the Cathars, and were aware of the Kindred at least 20 years earlier than the Church. There are tales that Catharist beliefs were supported by many Kindred in the south of France. The knights Templar also supported the Cathars both overtly and covertly. Later, Cathars became an important part of the Templars French preceptories. The Inquisition continues still -- though the Militant Orders have as little to do with this organisation as possible. Today the Inquisition is an organisation of scholars and researchers of the occult, as well as a gathering place for many of the greatest vampire hunters. Many freebooting hunters have been trained or equipped under the Inquisitors instruction, and many more are being brought into the fold each year.
Though no longer officially supported or sanctioned by the Church, most of its members are Catholic. Under their new name, the Society of Leopold, they claim to be scholars interested only in research. They are well aware of the best ways to immobilise and kill vampires, and have access to the Vatican's massive library of occult records. Among the most influential members of the Society are the Dominicans, who can trace their involvement back to the first Inquisition, which they partially oversaw. The exact interest and concerns of the Dominicans remain unclear today.
The Jesuits, linked to a group called the Assassins of Christ, are currently in dispute with the Holy Office. Rumours persist that they are taking vampire slaying to an extreme, even killing innocent and implicated Church members in the process.
The Arcanum has three known Foundation houses -- one in Boston, one in Paris, and the third in Vienna. Other Chapters can be found all over the world. Its members, recruited from the cream of intellectual society, are devoted to the gathering and studying of occult-related information, and are focused primarily on the past rather than the modern world. There are some members who show interest in the here and now, but it is understood many in the Arcanum believed the Kindred to be a long weakened, dying power. However, this has not stopped the Arcanum from initiating routine blood tests for its members in an attempt to weed out any who threaten their work. The Arcanum has evidence of the Kindred, werewolves, fairies and the spirits of the ethereal plains. More is being gathered through archaeological digs and searches of old libraries. There is no overall head of the Arcanum. Each nation has its own head and matters of international policy are resolved through mutual consent.
The resources of the Freemasons are staggering. Almost every city and major town in the Western world has a Masonic Lodge, with members drawn from the intellectual and business elite. These people are in positions of influence, often using contacts through their organisation to serve their own needs The public have a strong interest in Freemasons and the secretive organisation has undergone much scrutiny during the past decade. A flood of books have been published, each claiming to be the final revelation on the Freemason's "true purpose". Mounting pressure has forced the organisation to become more public than ever before in its history, but its innermost ceremonies and traditions are still a jealously guarded secret. While assisting in the re-establishment of the Order, the Freemasons are themselves concerned with Kindred activity. Moves have been taken to analyse its own membership for corruption. Any Freemason discovered to be undead, or implicated thus, can be assured a swift death. But the Freemasons are an extremely large organisation, and it is unlikely this purge will have any lasting effect. The society's ancient traditions and records are being scrutinised for all things Kindred related.