Join Date: Jul 2005
Location: Las Vegas Nevada
Current Game: Dungeonseige series
I watched the sun go down, shaking my head at the rules. Over 10,000 years since we first began, and we still pandered to their beliefs.
It is mankind’s deepest darkest secret. As much as we wished to blame the Angels and Demons for all of our woes, both the Were and the Nightkind are man’s creation.
We were weapons of war back in time. First one side created the Were as shock troops. After all, what would destroy the morale of an enemy more than seeing the front ranks change from human to animal, yet still attack with all the intelligence of the men they had been. Like any good arms race the enemy picked up the same idea.
Mages of all races of men used what they had at hand, so there were snakes and cats, wolves and bears, spiders and so on.
Unlike them, however, we of the Nightkind were created not as shock troops but as assassins and guerrillas. Until the modern era; the last century or so, night battles were a rarity. In the dark you struck at whatever moved, not seeing if the one you fought was an enemy or not. The story of Gideon in the Bible comes to mind, where 300 slipped unnoticed into a camp and defeated an army.
I read a book named Clear and Present Danger written by the great author Tom Clancy. In it, one character belonged to the 7th Light Infantry, and he quoted the motto of that division; Ninja! We rule the Night!
For ten millennia we did rule the night. We needed no supply lines, no rear areas, no weapons. We fed from our enemies and could raise them as revenants to attack their own. We made the night something an enemy feared.
Think; if the night is your enemy, what do you fear most? As the Crusaders discovered facing the Hashashim, you fear the dagger in the dark.
Unlike the Were, we were not copied, Political divisions caused more of us. A king would drive the people of a province into rebellion, and those of our kind who were from the region would join their people rather than the throne. We also turned more of us at need. I myself was turned during the Mongol invasion of Europe of 1253. A Russian Vampyr made me to protect my own Polonian people.
I helped drive back that horrid thrust of the 13th century. I traveled the world between the 13th century and now, and have seen wonders and horrors. For as horrible as we painted Demons, humans have more willingness to do evil than any of the others.
While it wasn’t a universally decided move, most of us stopped fighting wars around the 16th century. Guns had become cheap enough that they could be issued to thousands, and I am not talking about the lousy one third of an inch bullets the average modern rifle fires. I’m speaking of an ounce or more ball of lead between 9/16ths of an inch and three quarters of an inch in diameter. Oh we would hang near battlefields, give gentle deaths to the wounded, that kind of thing. I wasn’t there for it, I had gone to the New World after Vitus Bering.
We Vampyr were not without our own weaknesses. Those who created us knew that we were a blade that could turn in their hands, so safeguards were put in place. Some of those weaknesses mentioned in loving detail in the stories of our kind are very real. They made us prey to symbols of faith in the hands of the truly faithful, so a symbol of a deeply believed faith could push us aside, water blessed by a priest of a faith could burn us, and a stake through the heart would kill us.
Sunlight would burn us like acid, and so we avoided it. We cannot pass on our condition unless we give our blood to a human, so biting a woman to make her die on the third day means she is dead, whereas if I were to drip less than a shot glass of my blood into her mouth without biting her, she would arise as one of us in three nights. The idea that we die and come back as undead probably comes from there. For a 72 hour period, you are in a suspended state like hibernation until the Vampyr blood has converted your tissue.
Not something we do often; as too many vampire movies have shown, that causes our number to expand exponentially, which causes hysteria, which cause vampire hunters to come to call. You awake hungry, and if there is not a mentor you binge, drinking until you cannot move. A lot of the new ones die when that happens.
But most of what the movies taught was untrue. I am not dead, I merely live longer and need blood to replenish my body’s needs. I am not cursed any more than a left handed man is. I have a reflection in a mirror. I can eat food laced with garlic. I didn’t sign notes with my name written backwards. I cannot change into a bat, wolf or mist, though I can see how making an observer think I had would heighten our mystique.
I am not obsessed with whether my socks match, strewn seeds, or numerical puzzles. We do not become more horrid as time went on like Nosferatu, nor do we need permission to enter a home. I do not sleep in a coffin, because a bed is much more comfortable.
There is some that is true. I am faster and stronger than a man twice my size. I can draw my victim in with just a thought, and erase the memory of my actions, though I do not have the ability to call them later from their beds.
I can eat, in fact the idea that I can go to a buffet and eat every scrap of food from the tables without gaining an ounce of weight amuses me; and if I do I need but a pint or two of blood a day to survive. On bad days maybe five pints. As for blood borne disease we are immune, the differences in our metabolisms defeated every form of disease. AIDS is just four letters to us.
When I used to grab one of the Mongol invaders to convert I tried to assure they would end that way; dead amidst the dozen or so they attacked and drained. Some did survive to escape. I met one just four centuries ago. I gave him a gift, the properly made sword of the same design as he had been carrying when I bled him and he’d forgiven me. We still correspond. His pet peeve until recently was the Communists put in charge of Mongolia by the Russians.
We do not breed true, unless both parents are Vampyr. If a Vampyr seduces a human, we have our own worst enemy, the Dhamphir. Half human, half Vampyr. They lead an odd life, because they hate sunlight though it will not burn them, can live on blood, though less than I might need, and when we are hunted, they are in the forefront.
There was a motion picture named My Best Friend is a Vampire, and I enjoyed one specific scene. The Vampire Hunters have caught a boy who is merely the friend of the vampire. The vampire overturns all of the arguments because the methods for killing a vampire would kill anyone.
As much as you might hate us, think of this; In the late 19th century, blood was being typed so people could get transfusions, and survive horrible injuries. By the first world war they were able to type it efficiently enough that thousands of injured soldiers lived and the first blood banks were created then. By the second world war they knew enough that hundreds of thousands on both sides were able to live. Who do you think did that? We suggested it, though the Death of three boys and Pope Innocent VII was because of a garbled belief that a human could use our own method of ingesting it. But we pressed for such methods because of one unforgettable fact.
You see, we tried to feed on other lives, animals. But there is a vital spark we need from the blood. Think of it as a trace element like a vitamin. We can survive for a long time without feeding upon blood, or blood from animals, but when the need becomes great enough, the one suffering from it’s lack would go into a frenzy of feeding. We needed human blood, and we needed it in quantity. Of course the worst of it was that for those of us older than 80, we remember the warm red flood down our throats, the sweet taste of fresh blood that tasted different from the diet of our victim. These days it is like being raised on cordon bleu cuisine and now you’re living on frozen TV dinners.
There is even a cottage industry of sorts because of different flavors. Diabetics, who are usually unable to donate give blood that is sweet and sublime. Think of the richest candy you have every tasted. Drug users and alcoholics give blood with the trace elements of their specific addictions as part of it. While injecting a full dose of heroin into me is merely an unpleasant experience, drinking the blood of an addict with it’s massive jolt of endorphins affects us the same as that shot effects a normal human.
We did have problems with that when blood banks became common. We could not get drunk or high until then. A number of us died indulging in such new sensations. But those of us who survived learned.
We have always been a race apart. We created our own council to govern us, and passed our own laws because humans would not be able to enforce theirs on us. If you have read Lynsey Sands Argeneau series you know them already; do not bite humans except in emergencies, breeding is limited; we allow only replacement children, so each couple is only allowed a pair of children, though twins are allowed. With us it is not zero population growth, but almost, since there are only 5,000 of us world wide even today.
Those who violate our laws are removed if they refuse to repent and obey. We even use a method like hers to punish them. If you have seen the movie underworld, you would rrecognize it. We tired them to stakes, then open a skylight that let the sun in and left them from dawn to dusk. We do not turn to ash when this happens, but think of this; it would be the same as if I took a human and dumped them into a bath of aqua regia, only not as quick. You would be reduced to molecules if I did that to you whereas a vampyr would be reduced to a screaming bundle of bone and tissue when the executioners returned to lop the head off and end your misery.
As the sun set I left my flat to go to meet our team. I checked and they were at a bar named Different Faces. Before the Shift it had some cutesy name, Krave I think. Now it was where people of all of the races are welcome.
The place was almost empty. Maybe the Dragon chugging beer out of a 55 gallon barrel caused that. I stepped into the bar, and heard someone roar in anger.
“Lilith, can you lighten up?” A young man with red hair signaled, and a waiter tried to pull the dart board from the wall. He was having trouble because a dart had sunk completely through the board into the wall. Finally a demon walked over, caught the edges of the dart board and ripped it off the wall along with a chunk of the concrete. She sighed, and pointed at the quiet man sitting drinking single shots of Irish whiskey.
“You’re up, Andiel!” The demon shouted. An angel was beside a table near the line, and she flung a dart behind her as she slowly drained a mug of beer. The dart changed directions in flight, smacking into the center of the board.
“No fair!” Someone shouted, then ducked as plastic cups, most of them empty inundated him.
Last edited by machievelli; 06-01-2011 at 11:26 PM.
Reason: rewite and expansion