Rennart

The Last Light of the Serpent : A Tale of Five Lies [](https://goopics.net/i/lkcrfu) She entered the Black Church alone. The doors groaned shut behind her, sealing her beneath a vault so high it seemed the night sky itself had been imprisoned within the stone. Cold stars of pale light shimmered far above. Incense and old blood thickened the air. At the far end, demons stood in silent assembly. Upon a throne of black iron waited a Vampire Lord. Anne advanced and knelt, drawn by the promise of ascension. It was a lie. A shadow unfolded behind her. Malkael barred the path of retreat. The monstrous bat-winged fiend descended in a shriek of tearing air. Anne hurled herself backward, evading once, twice, again, twisting like a serpent fleeing the crushing coils of a greater beast. “How could you think I would ever want a being like you at my service?!” mocked the vampire named "The Farmer". There was no escape. Talons rent her steel. Fangs pierced her flesh. She felt her body lifted, seized, one foot in one clawed hand, one leg in the other. The monster began to pull. Slowly. Deliberately. Her bones strained. Her breath failed. The vast cathedral swallowed her cry and mad laughter. And as her body was stretched between infernal hands, her life unfurled before her fading sight, love, hunger for power, and lies. Chapter I : Lying to the Empire It was with the blood of her friends staining the hands of the Empire that Anne first swore her vendetta. The realm that had butchered her companions would taste ruin in return. She slew a wandering knight, cruel of soul and poisoned by vile prejudice, like so many knights, and claimed his armor as her own. Clad in stolen steel, she passed herself off as his humble squire, a shadow at the Empire’s heel. Thus did Anne insinuate herself into its marrow, seeking to rot it from within. Her hatred was a beacon in the abyss. Her rage, a prayer unanswered by Heaven but heeded by Hell. And from that infernal silence came... Malkael a demon of corrupting guile and ruthless brutality, who whispered unto her of power… power enough to scour her enemies from the earth. For him, she entered the holy cloisters. For years she bore the mask of a devout chevaleresse, kneeling in candlelight, murmuring pieties while treachery ripened in her breast. She drew ever nearer to the Pontiff, that the demons might one day strike him down through her subtle craft, as Malkael ordered her. She harvested souls as others gather wheat for her master. With honeyed speech and by reopening old wounds, she persuaded the desperate to barter their immortal essence for the bitter draught of vengeance, year after year. Chapter II : Lying to Friends, to Kin, and unto Love Yet amidst the coils of deceit, Anne found fellowship… and love. To them she would not lie outright. Nay, she would but bend the truth, as a reed bends before the wind. For when she named herself servant of the “One True God,” she spoke no falsehood in her mind; she served indeed, though that god was Iblees, and more intimately still, Kiiztria, demoness of lies and venomous whispers. In Redgar, the purest man of the Empire, she found love and forged a family. He knew fragments of her darkness, yet she swore she hunted only those who deserved to suffer. He fell in love with the shard of her soul she cherished most, the part that yearned for freedom, that defied tyrants and chains. Two souls opposed as light and darkness, yet drawn together by the unseen hand of fate. With her kids, Guillaume, Mélissandre, Viperi and Lisandra, she found a noble purpose, she saught to protect them, but her dark nature made her corrupt them. With Loricia and Cosima she found true friends.... friends she sold down to demons for more power.... To her second great love, Arthur de Marsyr, she was less merciful, using him to infiltrate Numendil and become a knight, hoping one day to bring him down with her into the darkness. Her love flowed but one way, and yet he awakened in her a dangerous longing, to be more than she was, to rise above the mire of her sins. For a fleeting period of her wretched life, she glimpsed the woman she might have been, a knight dedicated to protecting the innocent. But all edifices built upon falsehood must crumble. She was unmasked at last. Her perfidy laid bare before the world. Friends turned their faces; lovers recoiled; and she was cast before the Inquisition like carrion before hounds. And in that hour of abandonment, she sank deeper still into the talons of the Black Church. Chapter III : Lying to Hell and Damnation Anne lied to Malkael as readily as she had lied to kings and saints. She loathed the beast who had taken her eye, who had chained her with promises and torment. Yet within her coiled a darker hunger, a perverse thirst for dominion that bound her to him still. She told herself she was the victim, never the architect, of her own damnation. But in time she perceived the truth, neither demons nor darkened priests would grant her heart’s desire. The Empire yet stood, untouched, whilst Hell busied itself preying upon lesser realms, Dwarves, Cerulia, Lotharia. Gods, Aenguls, Daemons, Emperors, Kings… she judged them all alike. Tyrants, every one. If the creed of the Black Church held aught of value, it was this, Might is right. And so she sought ever greater strength, believing she must rival the gods themselves if she would unmake their chains and free the mortal throng. Alone and accursed, she fought in strange defense of the very mortals who despised her. When knights assailed the Black Church, she allowed some to flee unseen, sneaking them out in coffins. Even dwarves, whom she fed upon to sustain her cursed existence, she aided in secret escape. These acts of mercy were small candles in a howling gale. Yet the world would not believe a vampire’s repentance. Chapter IV : Lying to Redemption The shadow thickened upon Anne’s soul. The people did not rise. The Empire endured. Her loves were lost; her friendships, ashes. The magics she wielded gnawed at her reason and dragged her ever closer to the abyss. And yet, within that abyss flickered a final light. Another Knight, whom she loved in trembling silence, offered her a door unbarred, leave the Church, forsake the lies, and live as a woman unburdened beside him. She promised him she would depart the church forever. But her quiet mercies had not gone unnoticed. The malefic eyes of the Church turned toward her. Her careful lattice of lies collapsed like a house of cards scattered by a storm. When her final summons came, she stood at a crossroads. For once, she might have chosen truth. She might have kept her word. But the promise of greater power gleamed before her like a forbidden star. She would seize it, just once more. With such strength, she told herself, she could ensure her safety in the life she meant to begin. She crossed the great doors of the Black Church one final time.They closed behind her with the solemn toll of a funeral bell. They would never open again for her. Chapter V : The Greatest Lie: Lying to Herself In the end, the grandest deception Anne Aliénor de Beaumont ever wrought, her masterpiece of illusion, her most exquisite tapestry of falsehood, was the lie she told her own heart. She had claimed her crimes were for friends, for love, for family. Yet in the silent chambers of her soul, she knew the truth. She loved the power. She loved the ruin she wrought. The light of the sun pierced the Black Church in a final golden spear as the great doors thundered shut. Her thoughts turned to Redgar, the love of her life, and to the bitter knowledge that her soul would never join his where he dwelt in peace. Hell would claim her. She closed her eyes and surrendered to the encroaching dark as the vampire called “The Farmer” tore her asunder. Her body was dragged into the deepest vaults of the Church, her blood tracing a final, crimson script upon the stone. Thus perished the Serpent that dreamed of being a free bird, slithering away from the last true Light in her life, would she die an finally rest, or would she arise as something even worst? In the case she would die, Anne Aliénor de Beaumont had prepared letters for those important in her life : To Redgar in Heaven : To Arthur Marsyr : To Guillaume : To Heimweh : To Mellisandre : To "Viperi" : To Loricia : To Pixtus :

** From the depths of the crypt, a cry, a shout, a guttural scream resonated against the red stone walls. Tightening her grip upon her mace, Aliénor tore herself from her coffin, tears streaming down her cheeks. ** "I am done with the Empire. Revenge, blood, vengeance… they will pay. The Emperor, those who support him, those who remained silent, cowards. They will taste the sorrow of a widow"

** As the sun sank beyond the horizon, a small fox descended deep beneath the earth, darting through the winding corridors of a seemingly inhabited crypt where red candles burned low and slow. The brave little creature padded between rows of coffins, some sealed, others left ajar, until it reached the end of the passage, where a single coffin of purplish wood awaited. Scratching and striking at its base, the goupil sought to rouse its mistress. At last, the lid creaked open, and Anne Aliénor de Beaumont emerged, her solitary red eye piercing through the curtain of her black hair as she knelt to retrieve the message from her companion’s maw. ** "Brave Goupile, merci… what is it you bring to me?" ** The woman’s initial smile faltered, swiftly giving way to a deep frown as she read. ** "Redgar… mon love… I cannot believe it. How far has the Empire fallen, that even you have chosen to abandon them? When before, even mon love, could not sway you from the false light of God and from the loyalty to the Tyrants…" ** The vampire rose, her expression hardening. Donning her helm and taking up her mace, she strode from the crypt clad in blackened armor. Mounting her steed, she rode forth into the night in search of her ancient love, whether to save his life, or to claim it with her own hands, she herself did not yet know. **

I have been gone for a week and will be gone for one more week as i'm doing two LARPS back to back, will be back around the 18th. See you soon people!

** As Anne was told the content of the letter she would smile ** "Delicious wrath...and they dare claim to be so different from the demons je serve" **She would say in her usual Auverginian accent** "Well the nature of the game has changed...well the sweet and innocent Anne de Beaumont has served her purpose and kindness didnt protected moi, now all that remain is Alienor and je am done hiding, now, je hunt."

Anne had spent her entire life in pursuit of her own desires. Through sin and indulgence, she had walked a path of shadows, one that ultimately led her to bow before Iblees. In time, she became the thrall of a demon, Malkael, and served as his instrument. She infiltrated the Empire she despised, and whenever her master summoned her, she donned her helm and fought by his side without hesitation. Yet, in the very heart of that Empire she loathed, Anne found companionship. She even discovered love, an impossible love, for her beloved was a man of justice and light. From this union, children were born. Slowly, doubt began to stir within her heart… but hatred always rekindled her resolve, driving her ever deeper along the road to damnation. Her first eye she lost after daring to call her master weak, this demon she served, yet never truly trusted. The truth of her crimes, her infernal allegiances, and her dealings with the Inferi came to light when she attempted to murder the man who had betrayed her dearest friend. Her life collapsed as the world finally saw her for what she truly was. While fleeing the Empire, a mysterious figure approached her, speaking of the errors of her ways before vanishing into the mist. From that day on, voices began to stir in her mind, mocking her with every past sin. Her second eye was taken when she was finally captured. The last thing she saw was the face of the man she loved before the pommel of a sword struck her down. Infection spread quickly, and with no proper care, her eyes were lost to infection. The memories that followed were fragmented, fleeting. She only recalled riding through a raging blizzard, her hand mangled, her eye oozing pus, until she collapsed, her fingers brushing the familiar frost of a looming fortress: the Frost Witch Castle, where she sought her final refuge. Her mentor and a few friends tried to heal her, but the rot had set in too deeply. All she could do was withdraw into the frozen halls of the castle, consumed by shame and grief. When consciousness returned, the corridors were silent, abandoned. She remained in her bed, haunted by visions of her lover, who in her mind had forsaken her, not even attempting to save her, as well as by thoughts of her former “friends”, who had cast her aside without remorse. Even her dearest friend, for whom she had attempted to murder a men (leading to her nature being revealed to the world) had betrayed her by revealing her name, breaking her even further. The idea she would never get to see hers kids ever again was settling in her mind, consuming her slowly. And so, the voices returned. At first mere whispers, they soon swelled into a deafening chorus. "You are a failure. Too weak to keep your own children." Anne could bear it no longer. She left her chamber, her hands tracing the icy walls as she navigated the maze-like corridors. "They all turned their backs on you, traitor. Your children are better off without you." Blindly, she searched for door handles, memorising each texture beneath her fingers…the weave of carpets, the grain of wood. At last, she came upon a door colder than all the rest. "Follow the frozen wind… climb… and leap." Shattered and lost, she began her ascent. Her numb fingers clung to frostbitten stone as the wind howled like a beast in her ears. She scaled frozen ladders, crossed rickety planks suspended over the void, ever climbing, ever higher. At last, she reached the summit, where the wind cut like a blade. Before her yawned a gaping hole in the wall, inviting her to take that final step into the abyss. "Abandon hope. Relinquish all. God, Aenguls, Demons, none will have you. Jump." She rose to her feet, clutching her tattered rags, and stepped forward. But then, in a cruel flash, the faces of her two young children appeared in her mind, far too young to even remember her. "Jump… jump!....JUMP!" Her fists clenched until her nails bit into her palms. Suddenly, she fell to her knees and screamed into the storm, pouring out all her fury and all the love that still burned within her broken heart: "No! My children! Perhaps I do not deserve life… but I wish to be there for them! Leave me be, cursed voices!" Curling into herself, she wept bitterly, whispering through trembling lips: "I beg of you… I want only to see my children grow… I will do… anything…" And so she remained there, alone, blind, starving and frozen, murmuring her desperate plea to the empty heavens at the very edge of the world.

Name: Anne de Beaumont Affiliation: Independant Relevant Titles or Aliases: none