Francois de la Rochefoucauld

So after careful deliberation I have begun my journey as a young French Nobleman, I dont know what game yet and if I am honest I may not say, my plan is to write up a narrative of the events that Francois gets involved in perhaps you can all enjoy a few stories from the tales of a young french nobleman missing his left eye who if fairly handy with a sword. Oh and who hates his oldest brother.

Sounds like the french side of the Von der Decken family same eye etc....

Well it will be interesting to see if I can maintain a narrative.

So got my papers and my gallant young french noble has landed himself in London with many a opportunity presented before him, does he sail for the America's, seek a commission in the army, join the royal navy, become a priest, seek a career in the more aesthetic arts such as the sciences and architecture. So many choices!

Are are German & our French Swashbuckler's paths or swords ever likely to cross?

Depends which game Froggy is in..

It would be very interesting if they did, but you never know, your in game two aren't you Terry?

nope game 2 has closed...... G7 mow

As is the famously coatless Thomas Blakeney, gent... currently stranded in New York (not a good place for a Catholic loyalist).

you just never know! The one eyed frenchie in London should raise a few eyebrows.

or more importantly just 1 eyebrow.....

I was gonna go with only one arm, but one eye seems much more fun... I just want to have some cool stories, not sure if it would happen but I am sure Richard would do something to make life more interesting.

jimbotten wrote:As is the famously coatless Thomas Blakeney, gent...  currently stranded in New York (not a good place for a Catholic loyalist).

Interesting......with Louis XIV and his cake makers dropping heavy hints that as soon as the Treaty of Yorktown ends in August 1710 he is going to go back to Hapsburg/Dutch bashing and things getting down right nasty over the British Crowns we have:

a) A Jacobite loyalist ex French Navy "spy" in new York (minus coat).

b) A Frenchman in London...........but is he a French Protestant fleeing the tyranny of Louis XIV?  Or a Catholic Merc looking for a Jacobite Commission?

& C) A Soldier of the Empire stuck in a God Forsaken outpost miles away from the action.

Clearly what we have is c = The Good a = The Bad & b = The Ugly .......assume that scare which removed the eye is really nasty (torture victim?)

All we need now is the buried treasure.........Blackbeards Horde? The Spanish recovered the loot from Havanna but he has taken more since inc the loot of Spanish Cathedral in Africa which has been cursed with bell, book & candle by the Primate of Iberia and is the subject of a feud between the HWIC & the Coast Bretheren.

Anyone up for a trip up the river Congo to recover cursed pirate gold?  What did they use to call this area "The Heart of Darkness"?......oh I recall "The White Mans Grave"

on a side note I think I played Blackbeard in g7 for a short period and sacked Havana carting off the governors daughter.  If so I know where there is some buried treasure, about £100,000 to be exact (assuming no one else has found it yet!)  

Kingmaker wrote:on a side note I think I played Blackbeard in g7 for a short period and sacked Havana carting off the governors daughter.  If so I know where there is some buried treasure, about £100,000 to be exact (assuming no one else has found it yet!)  

A couple of Blackbeards agents on the Spanish Main ended up on the rack looking at very large bags of gold & a royal pardon with a very, very nice man asking them questions about the location of Blackbeards base(s).

The Spanish Raid on Cat Island recovered about £450,000 which may include the £100,000 the "Kingmaker Blackbeard" looted from Havana.

However England & Bristol's greatest Naval hero in G7 avoided the dastardly Dons total violation of English/American waters and got away to continue under several different (?) players his career of Piracy, Smuggling, dodgy political dealings, feuds with the HWIC etc,etc mostly in West Africa and the America's. But he does seem to have returned to some of his old hunting grounds in recent years.

After Cat Island "Blackbeard" horde is believed to inc the Church Plate plundered from Las Palmas Cathedral plus proceeds of general piracy. Just hope its safe and not invested in something risky like the now defunct Bank of England.

Not sure how he gets on with the Asante but you just know that Kingmakers old character is going to be a total main to his new one at some stage.

Cat Island it was but it was buried very well so unless there is a description of how they found the gold then I cannot see how it could b found only me and 1 other knew it was there I killed the rest of the men who helped hide it.

“Your mine!” came the shout, the earth shattering growl that meant only fear, the growl turned to hatred as he stood motionless with his legs refusing to move, why are my legs not moving came the question, why cant I move, I must move to stay here will only end badly. A hand reached for his sword but it was only greeted by an empty scabbard fear grew stronger in his belly, he couldn’t move he had no weapon what was he to do.

Dark shadows moved in his periphery, they were circling with what seemed as total malice dark red eyes as if a flame had risen from the blackness and burrowed beneath his skin. The flaming eyes yielding a pain in his eyes the pain pierced his soul and buried it self-deep within him causing him to scream in pain. As he screamed a low chuckled emanated from those that circled him.

“Your fear is palpable Francois, your fear makes us happy, it makes us cry for joy, for you are nothing but a runt, you are nothing to us…” It said, causing a wave of grief to flow through the room.

“I am not afraid!” he roared back, “I do not fear you, for it is you who are nothing but worth the scraping off of my boots!” He replied with venom, the fear in his heart was growing but he dared not back down otherwise be seen as weak and afraid. Fear was rot so they said and he would show none giving no satisfaction to the beings that circled him, getting ever closer.

The dark shadows slowly circled taking the form of beings that he had once known, his mind not being able to place them the darkness whirled around them casting darker shadows in their wake, only the dark can cast such large shadows thought Francois. “The last of five!” came the call from those before him. There were five shadows that stood before him taking the shapes of men young and old all bearing a ghostly specter their eyes hollow and their hair long and haggard looking their skin seemed to tighten around their bones giving the air of death and mortality. One held out his hand chuckling an evil guttural sound emanating from the bottom of his throat. “Take it…” came the words.

“Take what? You have nothing for me.” Came Francois’ reply, “Nothing but malice emptiness and death.” The defiance in his voice was there but fear gripped him his voice shook as he talked.

“TAKE IT!” All five dark shadows called in unison, “TAKE IT TAKE IT TAKE IT!”

A dark shape thrust Francois forward towards the remainder with the rest all converging on him in a heartbeat, Francois lost his breath pure terror tore at his heart, take what their hands were always out of reach. Pain shot through his empty eye socket delivering a fresh wave with every heartbeat, the pain was more than he could bear and he sunk to his knees. All five converged and soon he lay on his back held down by hands larger and stronger his head lay motionless and head in place by a powerful force. Was it fear that held him in place or was it a force beyond his understanding. A knife flickered in the background and his heart stopped, he knew, he knew now what was happening, he struggled earnestly trying to remove his head arms and legs from the grip that held him there his breathing quickened and the fear that had gripped him previously took hold. The knife small as it was was closing in on him his eyes flicked from left to right. “No…” he whimpered, “No…” He cried, “Not this, anything but this…” The knife darted in and pain shot through him.

“NO!” Francois shot up breathing heavily his heart racing, he looked round the room all was light; shutters blocked the mainstay of the light. His hand shot up to his eye and he fingered the scar that had been left upon him from a young age. His breathing continued to race and his heart shot as fast as a cannon ball his ears pounded with his heartbeat. Wine he thought, wine will settle me, taking a sip of the wine that sat had sat by his bedside for some time tasted of sour grapes but none the less the taste of wine made him much more sedate. He took a deep breath and wiped his brow with his arm, the sweat clung to him strongly as it did quite often after he had woken from his dreams. Those very same dreams followed every day; the inevitability of his dreams left him feeling woeful.

But Francois’ life had not always been this way much of his youth was filled with the memories of warm days in southern France on his father’s estate, the young girls he would chase, the warmth of his first woman, but all were overshadowed by the loss of his eye, its loss and its pain haunted him, his older brother Raoul was the source of much of his torment being the man along with his group of friends and siblings that took his eye, to this day Francois had yet to work out why his brother and other siblings had sought him out for such pain, when his father had found out the actions of his older siblings he had acted as though it had never happened, not taking any action that would humiliate his older children, why? Why was Francois the source of such pain and anguish, why had Raoul, Gerrard, Jacques and Phillipe felt that Francois needed to lose his eye, in time he promised himself he would find out why and when he did he would return strong enough to exact revenge. The thought mad his heart race with anger, the fact that he could not understand the reason as to why he was sought made that anger grow in intensity.

That was now all behind him, before him stood London and endless possibilities the capital of London sat on the bend of the Thames and sprawled with life, teeming with rich and poor and endless possibilities. At any point he transport himself to a world with meaning, naval entrepreneurs were always looking for bodyguards, the army sought any man of worth to lead it. The colonies beckoned any man who believed himself capable of surviving in the harsh wilderness that surrounded it, great trade companies searched for untold spoils. Great minds worked on enlightening man kind, Sir Isaac Newton and the great society hypothesized about the meaning of life and the Tea Rooms of London swarmed with many a noble and it was these tea rooms that seemed to beckon Francois, this city, which he knew nothing of other than it was the capital of his nations historic enemy. Francois thought for a moment, was he a traitor to his people and a traitor to his family or was he simply a man seeking his moment in the sun.

nice....

This may or may not be of interest to bald swashbucklers but in a fair copy of the Alexander Dumas version of the Kings Musketeers G7 Spain has companies of Palace Guards for the King, Queen, Cardinal & various Viceroys.

As well as guarding the actual person etc the Guards also have to protect his interests, honour, reputation etc.

So in theory these Guards could show up anywhere to right wrongs, reclaim the kings pirated money, arrest spies etc. etc

They may therefore make a handy unit for a Swashbuckler to join...........or a interesting rival or foe.

Intriguing! I shall have to look that up.

MarkTurner26 wrote:Intriguing! I shall have to look that up.

Basically the French Musketeers were they personal guards of the King (other great Nobles like Cardinal Richelieu also had guards) who as well as guarding the King were also used as royal messengers, royal eyes & ears and completed sensitive and political missions..... the C17 & C18 equal of covert operations. The secret arrest and taking to the Castle of Angers in a special carriage with steel blind's of the over powerful Nicolas Fouquet by Captain D'Artagnan and six other Musketeers being a good example.

Other states also had units of the same type such as the Prussian Trabaten-Garde, the Chevaliers Guard of the Russian Imperial Guard and the Spanish Mosquetero de la Guardia.........mostly made up of young nobles or officers the Monarch wished to reward.

Such units were very small and I dont think even having them as a single unit of elite cavalry is really suitable since a lieutenants commission in the Musketeers was equal to a lieutenant-colonal in the Army and all members of the personal guards were effectively commissioned officers. Thus my theory that they should be shown in Glory du Roi positions as a Palace Guard Company.

Since such units just guard the palace rather then go on campaign but many members may be off doing things on their own or as a very small group they would seem to be idea unit for a true "Swashbuckler".......esp as they they probably get a really nice coat. Mind you wearing the very natty blue cassock with white cross of the King of France might raise a few questions even in New York.