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Background
The second son of Viscount t'Cadri, Alfred became the heir after his brother Pepin died fighting the Tirians in 1865.
The extent of what was known about Alfred t'Cadri prior to Pepin's death was that he was the spare son of Northwatche Keep. He is the enigma that many 'second' string sons face: identity vastly unknown outside the household proper.
The few known facts of young Alfred can be found in Northwatche record books, such as one that marks his arrival in the world the sixth day of Aout, 1848, to parents Viscount Francois t'Cadir and Countess Sir Esme t'Cadri (nee t'Artan). Another entry accounts that he was raised at the Keep until he was nine years of age. That is when an agreement was signed to foster him at the estate home of Lord Geralt l'Corren, beginning the required path to knighthood as page, where later, at age twelve, he was adopted as a squire for the very same man. It is presumed he presently remains a squire for the l'Corren knight. It is also remarked that he survived the First Siege of Valetta and years later, surfaced to fight in the Battles of Rovilon.
Relevant facts outside of this information do not exist.
The unknown story of Alfred t'Cadri is more colorful.
Alfred could be described as plucky in his youth. He was a large kid and dominated the other boys his age strictly for size alone. A majority of his early childhood at Northwatche amounted to rough housing and wayward adventures. One such adventure left him lost, alone, for a night and two days. The panic he aroused in the Keep, as entertaining as it had been, was never remembered so much as the punishment his caretaker received. It was an event that did two things: One, it instilled in the boy an awareness that his actions invoked consequences, directly or indirectly to the people around him. Two, he had to learn ways to keep from getting lost. He began to start studying and sketching where he went, determined to understand his way around; an ability that his scholarly teachers and later Geralt would nurture. He grew cautious after the incident of his own actions, as they say, more analytical of his next steps.
Daily life otherwise, as the youngest child, saw no direct benefits, except for the hand me downs. He never saw much of Nadine because of the age gap between them but he did see plenty of what she left behind. What he saw of Pepin was a little more than his left over tunics. Alfred developed a productive relationship with his brother. It was not without its brotherly competitiveness and was generally amiable in the time of their youth. It was Pepin's interest in the gryfalcons that inspired the best of the bonding between brothers and also the worst. Pepin 'hawked' his little brother; he thought it would be fun. The incident left Alfred with a scar above his left eye and proper lessons with the falconeers to avoid such trouble in the future.
Alfred's father ran a firm and respectful household. Francois kept his sons on track to be men of high morals and honor. He was a man that a son could relate to and idolize. He showed his children affection while teaching them the greater lessons of life. Numerous lessons included knowledge 'considered by outsiders' as superstitions and twice as many in the scripture of the One Faith.
Alfred developed a solid bond with Francois in his youth. He gained greater respect from his father on the day Alfred obtained the scar from his brother's gyrfalcon because he would not implicate Pepin being at fault. Loyalty of a brother had to endure all else; a central lesson from Francois.
Alfred's mother, Esme, would be stricter with Alfred when it came to his education. This does not mean she wasn't a tender loving parent, it just meant that she held him to higher expectations. With her background as a knight she over saw certain avenues of her son's life and taught him the realities of it. There was no sugar coating: life was tough in the North. Thus, many winter nights had been spent at her side answering rapid fire questions based on what he had learned and at other times requesting that he demonstrate it.
In 1857, with Pepin squiring under his father's care, it was decided that diversity in Alfred's upbringing would supplement Pepin's own in the future. A family was wise to invest the spare with a background unlike the Heir to strengthen weaknesses otherwise. It was a method to avoid brother against brother envy, should one be squired by the father and the other left around to witness.
Geralt l'Corren fit the bill. Uncle by marriage, Geralt was an errant knight who, while he had his own children, preferred the tradition of fostering a squire. Geralt believed a father could teach his son about life; such was of great importance and foundation to have, however, the son will strive to outdo the father and challenge far sooner than a boy should. When a boy was paired with a man who was not his father, the relationship was built on mentorship and respect. A father would find it hard to drop a son from training if the son wasn't matched for it, but a mentor could with impunity. All of which was explained to Alfred.
For three years, Alfred would serve as page for Geralt, traveling with the man when he was on the move. Geralt was posted to the conflicts on the Tirian borderlands, a commander in numerous skirmishes between the barbarians. He taught Alfred to use the Tirian language and about the specific tactics both sides would use to gain advantage, from scouting, spying, skirmishes and sorties.
Geralt would thoroughly test Alfred's mind against the stratagems required to secure victory and minimal losses in battle before they happened, replicating the field with use of chess pieces. Then he would tell the boy to watch him and observe the actual battle from the command lines. Geralt transitioned the theory of tactics to live practicums, wherein Geralt would query Alfred on what he observed and what if anything he would do to change it. Consequently, military tactics and military history became the major study of Alfred's time, when not busy with chores that would strengthen his body. Geralt declined to train Alfred with a weapon until his mind was one.
When that time came, Alfred was elevated to the ranks of a squire. The intensity of the training began at once. Long days of physical drills would be augmented by perceptual and academic trials. Geralt wasn't an easy master to please and he pressed Alfred relentlessly. His days and nights were jam-packed with weapon practice, chores, and surprise examinations that would assess all manner of skills. He had little time to think beyond his daily tasks.
In 1861, Geralt, worried at the whispers of a massing force, made a decision to march south, away from the borderlands in a bid to flee before finding out. The enemy scouts were quick on their heels. Unable to avoid the barbarian army, they were harried to the doorstep of the Fortress Valetta. The l'Corren's retinue had been reduced to a handful of men to get the l'Corren knight there. Little did any of them realize that Valetta was not a sanctuary…
Those within the Fortress had not prepared for what was upon them and any able bodied person had been called upon to defend it. Able bodied meant that Alfred's first weeks were spent doing just that. At age of thirteen, the terror of having wave after wave of murderous barbaric men scaling the walls and calling for his blood was overwhelming to his senses. The gruesome truth of war was not now witnessed from a commander's line but savagely on those battlements, where every swing of a weapon meant life or death. And they kept coming, for him. For all of them.
Weapons he had hardly been accustomed to, such as halberds and crossbows, were thrust into his hand. He was shoved forward like the others to hold the line as brutes twice his size and age breeched the walls. How he survived those first few days when many others hadn't can be attributed only to his knight and by the One's own design.
The brutality of men dying in a thousand different ways had been laid before Alfred and it wasn't long before the numbness that came with the need to survive allowed him to contribute. The deaths he caused were not cleanly made and lacked honor. All were necessary. A kick sent a man to fall to his doom from the ladder he climbed; the use of a broken haft shoved through the eye socket was messy but efficient; the scolding hot oil poured over the sides of the battlement effective; his fingers digging without mercy into the neck of a man who pinned him down essential.
It was nothing of what a boy dreamed of. That boy died at Valetta.
The real deaths, as they accumulated, took their toll on him. Alfred watched respectable fierce men buckle to hunger and thirst. He watched honorable men fighting over rats and still others turning a blind eye when a man cooked a dead man's leg over the fire. He watched the mental breaking of those he would call friends and struggled to keep himself from it. The horror of a siege would be etched into Alfred's mind, for he was reduced to the same practices to survive. He barfed frequently. It changed him, as it changed everyone there.
When Geralt took injury, he only had Alfred to depend on for survival. Too many were wounded. Too little left to care or do anything about it. That task of seeing his knight live on kept Alfred going, to prevent facing what fellow squires had faced.
He established a bond with John t'Synclarre during the siege. John had seen Alfred fight not only on the walls, but in the Fortress itself, to defend what meager scraps could be found to eat to keep Geralt from starvation. John took the younger lad under his wing. At one point John shared the hard end of a stale bread loaf with Alfred; a gesture that would cement the younger t'Cadri to the charismatic t'Synclarre for the duration of the siege.
Where John was, Alfred could be found nearby, often holding his own. Until the breech of Novembre '61. Alfred had flagged and had been injured. The t'Synclarre's were valiant defenders of those walls, spilling their blood to keep the hoard out. Alfred was getting overrun. John saw this and slipped to his aid, for only a split second to keep a lethal blow from landing on Alfred. The barbarian was dispatched by John's blade, while Alfred was sprawled on his back. They shared a joke in that quick moment, as battle raged around them, John mocked Alfred for lying down on the job as he scooped him up off the ground. A more serious turn had John realize the extent of Alfred's injury, imploring the younger with a shove to retreat.
Their eyes met as they shared a look. They both knew before it happened; they knew they would not see eachother again. They knew Alfred would listen and John would turn back to the fighting. The moment was their silent goodbye; a memory that will forever linger with the t'Cadri.
Alfred survived the siege, as did Geralt, but not without scars. Not without consequence.
Geralt was said to have lost his edge when he rode south with Alfred, but many who were there knew the t'Cadri gained his.
They would spend the next four years in travel after Valetta, visiting the City-State amongst other nations and centers of trade. They did not speak of what happened in Valetta; there had been no need. Geralt was unwilling to return them to the Tirian frontlines and because of that, they were regarded as errant, slipping back and forth between Murnord. They participated in second tier tournaments, appeared briefly in court, revisited their homes, and went off again.
Alfred refused to believe his mentor has lost the edge, staying by his knight's side in spite of the rumours dogging the l'Corren knight and several concerned missives from his father. Alfred did accept that Geralt changed. Training turned into a cold routine and left Alfred bruised and battered after arduous bouts. Geralt's sentiment to explain his overly harsh training was simply: 'Better to be bruised today than beaten tomorrow.' Alfred endured the change with empathic silence and support, continuously improving as a matter of necessity while learning all he could from his mentor. The day did arrive when he proved victorious.
At sixteen years of age, after a two hour spar, Geralt went down on a knee. Their relationship changed again. Alfred asserted he was no longer a boy. Geralt agreed and vowed to treat Alfred like a man and apologized for not seeing it before. Alfred also confronted Geralt about Valetta and insisted he didn't care what Geralt had to do to survive. Geralt was moved, showing the fractures that had built from the siege. Geralt confessed that it was not what he had to do but what Alfred was forced to do for him during those months which had weighed on him. Geralt regained a sense of self as Alfred reassured him that nothing he did was on Geralt's shoulders. After that, Geralt would never take a weapon to Alfred in the way he had. However, there was more to learn.
When Geralt planned to return to the frontlines in mid-1865, the l'Corren knight received a request from Francois to take his son elsewhere, as Pepin and Nadine were already entrenched in the Tirian conflicts. The l'Corren knight obliged and turned them for the road to Rovilon. Later, they learned of Pepin's death in Novembre. Geralt said nothing when Alfred didn't react to the news as one might think a brother should. All that Alfred did say was that he could be proud his brother died doing his duty. In December 1865, they arrived in Rovilon, where it was presumed it would be safe.
Two months later, they were embroiled in the Battle of Rovilon. Forces under the Prince assaulted the Capital. At first Geralt attempted to keep them out of the fighting until word passed of what the Cardinal was accused of. They joined in with Michael l'Corren's forces against the Cardinal's Guard. Alfred once more stood at the side of his knight and with a refined edge, he struck solidly against his enemy. They played their part but declined to march to Valetta. They would remain in Rovilon, attending court and providing service as needed.
Three months later, the pair rode out after King Maris to meet the Brodlund raiders in what was the Second Battle of Rovilion. Inspired by the confidence of their king, they dove in with battleaxes gleaming. Alfred took to using his halberd with effortless talent as he met the incoming raiders. Alfred witnessed the great king take on the chieftain in single combat; a vision of what war could be, what bards promised it was, stories he once believed in. Awestruck, he could not move himself but to watch. When Maris struck the head of the chieftain off his body, Alfred's yell joined countless others in the hail of victory. The victory was short lived when word came of the fatal injuries that Maris bore. Alfred was one of hundreds that lingered outside the Cathedral walls to wait the announcement of the King's death; meanwhile the voice of Geralt was by his ear, "Victory always comes at a price."
Rovilon was the last place any could account for seeing the pair at…
On the Grid
This can be a cover, lyrics or anything that encompasses your character.
Standing tall and broad, this young man possesses a physique that some would call oxen. His jaw is broad, just slightly rounded with a dimple in the center of his wide chin and his mouth, on the small side with thin lips. Nose slightly crooked but well-proportioned in relation to the rest of his face and clear blue eyes that are maybe just a touch too close and bit too small. A jagged rent has left a scar above his left eye, splitting the brow in two. Alfred wears his light blonde hair fairly long on top but cut close to the scalp one the sides and back of his head. It does look as if he's taken a razor blade to his face often to encourage stubble to grow. It comes out light in color and almost invisible in brighter conditions.
If prepared for combat, the young squire will wear a suit of heavy brigandine armor adorned with the colors of House t'Cadri. The black and silver are striking and well cared for and the studs visible on the outside are shined brightly. Plate and chain armor is worn on Alfred's arms and legs, clean and well maintained, moving easily, especially the gauntlets. Weapons will vary depending on the need, though he does favor the halberd.
Quriks:
- Analytical
- Code of Honor
- Devout
- Enigma
- Military Genius
- Superstitious
- Talented: Polearms
- Well-Equipped
Personality:
Alfred falls into the introverted category because of a predisposition to listen rather than talk. This can be mistaken for shyness and the inability to easily immerse himself in social situations. More accurately Alfred inspires conversation around him by his focus and prompting the speaker with limited words. He is prone to laughing at dumb jokes with others and can admit to not thoroughly understanding why. His own humor needs work and tends to be dry. At his core he is kind hearted and humble. His actions are dictated by a code that motivates certain behaviors, built on four standards: strength, courage, mastery, and honor. He doesn't engage in behaviors that would weaken his House or his personal reputation, he pulls his own weight, has his brother's backs, and cultivates spiritual and intellectual knowledge in his downtime. Alfred is a logical thinker, spending time gathering and analyzing information, designing and testing solutions to problems, and formulating plans. He is devout in his commitment to the One faith with a paradoxical insistence in line with the rest of his house that monsters and fairy tales of lore are true and that creatures such as pooka, goblyns, and snow-wights exist.
