Post by Anna Evanovich on Feb 28, 2013 12:30:14 GMT -5
The task was becoming routine. The destruction of a vampire was a simple matter of process and planning. Certain items that were blessed by a member of the clergy who belonged to the Order. A sword that had already tasted the blood of the unholy and sanctified by battle. A strong and unswerving belief that one was doing good by destroying that which poisoned the land and threatened to infect the innocent. If one had all these things in order and held a strong faith in their hearts, then such a task could be accomplished with little danger to ones self. This had been Anna’s experience in the North of Britain and in the dark halls of Castle Borne and in the catacombs under the city of Trinsic. The younger ones fell easily. It was the older vampires that were dangerous for their experience sometimes spanned centuries and, although there were perhaps only a handful of such creatures left in the world, they were by far the most feared. The vampire Anna now pursued, however, was young. It was estimated that she had been turned less than a year ago. Beatrice LaVoler was the spawn of the hated and much feared Avella Isilian who was, in her own right, a creature of extreme deception and power. But, after the bard Judas D’arc had somehow won her trust, she had agreed to take the Torpor and sleep for three hundred years.
Anna had once served Avella as comptroller of her vast holdings before she understood exactly what the woman was. Now the creature’s fortune would be used to help those families and communities she had harmed so violently and mercilessly over the decades. Had Anna the knowledge of where the woman slept she would not hesitate to dispatch her back to her daemon lord. Anna could then sleep well in the knowledge that the foul creature suffered for all eternity in the flames of perdition. As it was, however, it would suffice to know her spawn would not exist for much longer. It was to this end that Anna Evanovich, Knight Paladin of the Order of Trinsic, found herself standing outside the sprawling yet decrepit manor house that once belonged to Avella Isilian. It was here she hoped to find the woman Beatrice and it was here she planned to destroy her.
The reports received at the office of the Patriarch indicated that, although Beatrice was not a murderer, unlike her mistress, she had been witnessed feeding on the innocent in the cities of Trinsic and Britain. By all accounts she fed in the pre-dawn hours, taking the innocent by deception, feeding and leaving them lacking any memory of the incident. Despite the fact she did not kill her victims, it was enough for the Patriarch to issue a warrant for her destruction. This was not a question of jurisdiction, for a Paladin of the Order was sworn to indicate, investigate and eradicate evil anywhere it was found regardless of the local laws, for the Laws of the Virtues superseded all others.
Anna almost felt sorry for the girl. By all indications, Beatrice had been an intelligent, vibrant girl who had loved music, studied at the Moonglow Conservancy of Music, and was loved by her family. This was before her premature “death” by a then “unknown illness.” Apparently she had been taken against her will by the foul creature Avella and left to suffer the horror of “frenzy” alone. It is said that without guidance from its maker, a newborn vampire who suffers the “frenzy” alone is, more often than not, driven insane. All indications show that Beatrice was, indeed, quite insane. A tall willowy girl of some considerable beauty, she was often seen wandering the streets or walking into taverns or shops as if in a state of perpetual daydream. When spoken to, her responses made no sense and she seemed confused by the most simple statements or questions. There had been much speculation as to why Avella chose to turn the girl at a time when she herself was considering entering Torpor. Was it out of spite over the loss of all her previous Childers or was it simply for sport? In the end, the “why” didn’t matter; the fact remained. Beatrice was a vampire and as such, must be destroyed.
Anna pushed all these considerations from her mind as she stood outside the entrance to the Great Room that once served as Avella’s audience hall. The stairways and porticos leading to the large double doors were overgrown with vines and brambles that threatened to trip up those who might seek entry to the main house. Having hacked her way to this point, Anna drew her Sword of Justice and placed her armored shoulder against the doors. After more than a year of disuse the doors were rusted shut. It would take all of Anna’s strength to break the seal and shove the doors inward a foot at a time. The loud creak of the hinges echoed back from the darkness within and, once opened wide enough for her to pass through, the stench of the place rushed out to greet her.
It is said the stench of death could never be eradicated from a place. This was certainly true of House Isilian. For a time the house had been occupied by Daemons who had been sent to this plane to hunt down the Gypsy girl Alisiea. The Daemons feeding habits were on a scale greater even than that of their unwilling hostess who had been evicted from her own estate for failing to deliver the girl herself. Anna turned her face away and gagged as the putrid odor assaulted her senses. The once proud house was now nothing more than a tomb. No light or fresh air could enter. No pure thought, word, or deed was welcome here. This house was now a foyer onto the hell that awaited the unwary or the unprepared. But enter she must, for her task was clear and her duty paramount. Shoving the door open wider she entered. The vast cavernous room was dimly lit by several wall torches. Avella’s “throne” could be seen at the end of the long carpeted runway that was more than thirty paces in length. In better days this room had been a grand reminder of how wealth and power could be used to enlighten and bring hope to a darkened, war-torn world, for Avella’s parents had, many centuries before, been privy to the King’s Counsel. This was the Isilian ancestral home that now had become a tomb and a place to harbor unspeakable evil. Perhaps, one day, it would be restored to its former glory, but that day was very far from the reality of this day, for on this day, death would once again visit these halls.
Anna entered cautiously. She did not know for certain if Beatrice even resided here, but it seemed plausible she would return each day to the one place she felt most safe. There was, as Anna moved forward with her sword held at the ready, no sense eminent danger, but there were deep, impenetrable shadows haunting the corners of the hall. Slips of shadow seemed to slither along the floor or crawl across the ceiling which sent a chill up Anna’s spine. This was a place not meant for mortals to visit as it belonged now to the hauntings of victims whose souls wept in the darkness and begged for relief from their eternal suffering. Anna vowed to burn the place to the ground once her duty here was completed.
She had no sooner finished this thought when the attack came. There was no warning. No voiced complaint of intrusion or trespass. No question as to why she entered the hall uninvited. No scream of injustice. No challenge to the intrusion. What came out of the shadows behind the doorway was pure, unadulterated viciousness. An animal defending its lair. A creature defending its territory. If Beatrice was a youngling then her strength belied this fact. Anna was struck with such force as to send her spinning through the air a full ten paces before she clamored to the floor and slid another five before coming to rest. Stunned by the strength of the blow Anna barely had time to take in a breath of air before Beatrice was upon her again. As the blows rained down upon Anna’s armored body, Beatrice screamed unintelligible curses, tore off bits of Anna’s plate armor and flung them across the hall. Finally Anna managed to force Beatrice back where the girl crouched low, hissing and spiting, her fingers arched in claw-like fashion. Anna was uncertain. The girl was a newborn yet possessed the strength of an ancient. Was this due to the blood of her mistress filling her veins or was it the blood of her latest Sire. The vampire lord Nythrax who had, it was suggested, re-sired Beatrice with his own blood. Such a thing would have caused Beatrice even more torment. To die and be reborn as undead, then to die again only to be reborn to another reality would have caused great upheaval to Beatrice’s mind. As Anna held her Sword of Justice before her, she wondered now if destroying Beatrice might be considered an act of mercy.
Anna kept her guard up as she attempted to circle around towards the door as it was becoming clear to her that Beatrice was more than a match for the might of the Paladin. This was a youngling given more than just the blood of her Sires. This was a vampire made mad beyond all comprehension, with the strength of ten of her kind.
“When facing a stronger opponent the wise warrior retreats.”
There will be other days to fight. Anna would return with more Knights and destroy this one at another time. Now it only remained for her to circle her way around to the partially open door and escape into the daylight. Holding her consecrated sword before her, she slid her right foot towards the door. Slowly, one foot at a time, she repeated this motion until she was nearly within reach of the door. Beatrice followed her every move with eyes that glowed pure white in the dimness and moved to match her step for step. Anna was a mere two paces from the open door when Beatrice lunged with blinding speed. A mere blink of the eye and she was upon her lifting Anna completely off the floor and tossing her effortlessly across the hall into the deeper shadows. Anna hit the floor with a loud crash and slid helplessly into a corner. Out of pure instinct she raised her sword to deflect any oncoming blows, but instead felt the sword torn from her grasp. Beatrice now stood over her holding the Sword of Justice in her hands. Only a moment passed before she flung the sword away and descended upon the Knight of Trinsic. Anna felt her armor ripped from her body. Felt the blows against her flesh and bone. Heard the hissing and cursing and prayed she would not be turned into one of these creatures. Prayed she would be killed here, at the hands of her enemy, rather than be destroyed by another Knight should a warrant of destruction be issued for the vampire Anna.
Anna did her best to fend off the onslaught and cried out as she felt a rib crushed under the blows. She had foolishly underestimated the girl. She had been prideful of her own abilities and drunk on her early successes. She had sinned, and this, this was her punishment; her lesson in humility. She prayed she would be forgiven and, just before the darkness took her; she prayed death would be kind.
Anna had once served Avella as comptroller of her vast holdings before she understood exactly what the woman was. Now the creature’s fortune would be used to help those families and communities she had harmed so violently and mercilessly over the decades. Had Anna the knowledge of where the woman slept she would not hesitate to dispatch her back to her daemon lord. Anna could then sleep well in the knowledge that the foul creature suffered for all eternity in the flames of perdition. As it was, however, it would suffice to know her spawn would not exist for much longer. It was to this end that Anna Evanovich, Knight Paladin of the Order of Trinsic, found herself standing outside the sprawling yet decrepit manor house that once belonged to Avella Isilian. It was here she hoped to find the woman Beatrice and it was here she planned to destroy her.
The reports received at the office of the Patriarch indicated that, although Beatrice was not a murderer, unlike her mistress, she had been witnessed feeding on the innocent in the cities of Trinsic and Britain. By all accounts she fed in the pre-dawn hours, taking the innocent by deception, feeding and leaving them lacking any memory of the incident. Despite the fact she did not kill her victims, it was enough for the Patriarch to issue a warrant for her destruction. This was not a question of jurisdiction, for a Paladin of the Order was sworn to indicate, investigate and eradicate evil anywhere it was found regardless of the local laws, for the Laws of the Virtues superseded all others.
Anna almost felt sorry for the girl. By all indications, Beatrice had been an intelligent, vibrant girl who had loved music, studied at the Moonglow Conservancy of Music, and was loved by her family. This was before her premature “death” by a then “unknown illness.” Apparently she had been taken against her will by the foul creature Avella and left to suffer the horror of “frenzy” alone. It is said that without guidance from its maker, a newborn vampire who suffers the “frenzy” alone is, more often than not, driven insane. All indications show that Beatrice was, indeed, quite insane. A tall willowy girl of some considerable beauty, she was often seen wandering the streets or walking into taverns or shops as if in a state of perpetual daydream. When spoken to, her responses made no sense and she seemed confused by the most simple statements or questions. There had been much speculation as to why Avella chose to turn the girl at a time when she herself was considering entering Torpor. Was it out of spite over the loss of all her previous Childers or was it simply for sport? In the end, the “why” didn’t matter; the fact remained. Beatrice was a vampire and as such, must be destroyed.
Anna pushed all these considerations from her mind as she stood outside the entrance to the Great Room that once served as Avella’s audience hall. The stairways and porticos leading to the large double doors were overgrown with vines and brambles that threatened to trip up those who might seek entry to the main house. Having hacked her way to this point, Anna drew her Sword of Justice and placed her armored shoulder against the doors. After more than a year of disuse the doors were rusted shut. It would take all of Anna’s strength to break the seal and shove the doors inward a foot at a time. The loud creak of the hinges echoed back from the darkness within and, once opened wide enough for her to pass through, the stench of the place rushed out to greet her.
It is said the stench of death could never be eradicated from a place. This was certainly true of House Isilian. For a time the house had been occupied by Daemons who had been sent to this plane to hunt down the Gypsy girl Alisiea. The Daemons feeding habits were on a scale greater even than that of their unwilling hostess who had been evicted from her own estate for failing to deliver the girl herself. Anna turned her face away and gagged as the putrid odor assaulted her senses. The once proud house was now nothing more than a tomb. No light or fresh air could enter. No pure thought, word, or deed was welcome here. This house was now a foyer onto the hell that awaited the unwary or the unprepared. But enter she must, for her task was clear and her duty paramount. Shoving the door open wider she entered. The vast cavernous room was dimly lit by several wall torches. Avella’s “throne” could be seen at the end of the long carpeted runway that was more than thirty paces in length. In better days this room had been a grand reminder of how wealth and power could be used to enlighten and bring hope to a darkened, war-torn world, for Avella’s parents had, many centuries before, been privy to the King’s Counsel. This was the Isilian ancestral home that now had become a tomb and a place to harbor unspeakable evil. Perhaps, one day, it would be restored to its former glory, but that day was very far from the reality of this day, for on this day, death would once again visit these halls.
Anna entered cautiously. She did not know for certain if Beatrice even resided here, but it seemed plausible she would return each day to the one place she felt most safe. There was, as Anna moved forward with her sword held at the ready, no sense eminent danger, but there were deep, impenetrable shadows haunting the corners of the hall. Slips of shadow seemed to slither along the floor or crawl across the ceiling which sent a chill up Anna’s spine. This was a place not meant for mortals to visit as it belonged now to the hauntings of victims whose souls wept in the darkness and begged for relief from their eternal suffering. Anna vowed to burn the place to the ground once her duty here was completed.
She had no sooner finished this thought when the attack came. There was no warning. No voiced complaint of intrusion or trespass. No question as to why she entered the hall uninvited. No scream of injustice. No challenge to the intrusion. What came out of the shadows behind the doorway was pure, unadulterated viciousness. An animal defending its lair. A creature defending its territory. If Beatrice was a youngling then her strength belied this fact. Anna was struck with such force as to send her spinning through the air a full ten paces before she clamored to the floor and slid another five before coming to rest. Stunned by the strength of the blow Anna barely had time to take in a breath of air before Beatrice was upon her again. As the blows rained down upon Anna’s armored body, Beatrice screamed unintelligible curses, tore off bits of Anna’s plate armor and flung them across the hall. Finally Anna managed to force Beatrice back where the girl crouched low, hissing and spiting, her fingers arched in claw-like fashion. Anna was uncertain. The girl was a newborn yet possessed the strength of an ancient. Was this due to the blood of her mistress filling her veins or was it the blood of her latest Sire. The vampire lord Nythrax who had, it was suggested, re-sired Beatrice with his own blood. Such a thing would have caused Beatrice even more torment. To die and be reborn as undead, then to die again only to be reborn to another reality would have caused great upheaval to Beatrice’s mind. As Anna held her Sword of Justice before her, she wondered now if destroying Beatrice might be considered an act of mercy.
Anna kept her guard up as she attempted to circle around towards the door as it was becoming clear to her that Beatrice was more than a match for the might of the Paladin. This was a youngling given more than just the blood of her Sires. This was a vampire made mad beyond all comprehension, with the strength of ten of her kind.
“When facing a stronger opponent the wise warrior retreats.”
There will be other days to fight. Anna would return with more Knights and destroy this one at another time. Now it only remained for her to circle her way around to the partially open door and escape into the daylight. Holding her consecrated sword before her, she slid her right foot towards the door. Slowly, one foot at a time, she repeated this motion until she was nearly within reach of the door. Beatrice followed her every move with eyes that glowed pure white in the dimness and moved to match her step for step. Anna was a mere two paces from the open door when Beatrice lunged with blinding speed. A mere blink of the eye and she was upon her lifting Anna completely off the floor and tossing her effortlessly across the hall into the deeper shadows. Anna hit the floor with a loud crash and slid helplessly into a corner. Out of pure instinct she raised her sword to deflect any oncoming blows, but instead felt the sword torn from her grasp. Beatrice now stood over her holding the Sword of Justice in her hands. Only a moment passed before she flung the sword away and descended upon the Knight of Trinsic. Anna felt her armor ripped from her body. Felt the blows against her flesh and bone. Heard the hissing and cursing and prayed she would not be turned into one of these creatures. Prayed she would be killed here, at the hands of her enemy, rather than be destroyed by another Knight should a warrant of destruction be issued for the vampire Anna.
Anna did her best to fend off the onslaught and cried out as she felt a rib crushed under the blows. She had foolishly underestimated the girl. She had been prideful of her own abilities and drunk on her early successes. She had sinned, and this, this was her punishment; her lesson in humility. She prayed she would be forgiven and, just before the darkness took her; she prayed death would be kind.
