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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