For as long as there have been beings with blood in their veins, there have been vampires to drink it. In common parlance, one can be transformed into a vampire; this is incorrect, though the difference is subtle. A person is killed by a vampire, and their vampiric essence enters the now dead body. While the dead person’s memories and remnants of personality may be accessible, a vampire is not the person transformed – a vampire is a vampire, wearing their corpse. These vestiges left in the body become twisted by the vampire; the vampiric character tends towards obsession and possessiveness, so a lingering, unrequited love might become a predatory fixation (which, due to the vampire’s enhanced lifespan, may transfer over generations of a family, or simply to physically similar victims).
Most vampires, especially older individuals who have lived out all of their violent fantasies in their youth, find some channel for their intensity of feeling. Some turn to arcane study, politics, or the arts, while others prefer a life of criminal empire-building, or remain content to simply hone their skills as a killer. Whatever it sets its mind to, a vampire has, potentially, millennia to practice, and can exceed any mortal master. As with personality remnants, their activities can quickly turn into all-consuming obsessions.
Most vampires take a different stance on immortality than liches; instead of distancing themselves from the living and seeing them as an annoyance, or an obstacle, vampires entwine their lives with that of their prey. While this is, in part at least, due to their need to regularly feed on living blood, there does also seem to be some need for social control and power in the vampire’s psyche. A vampire might lurk behind the scenes of generations of local rulers, subtly nudging them towards their own ends.
It is true that vampires are forced to adhere to a great many odd and restrictive behaviors, and it is generally accepted that these are due to the abhorrence felt for them by the gods – as beings neither living nor dead, no god lays claim to the vampire and, though some worship a nameless, blood-drenched deity, most vampires claim to be above such concerns, entities unto themselves. Gods of the river burn them as they attempt to cross, gods of hearth and home forbid them access (save for those invited in under the ageless laws of hospitality) and, with the most vehement hatred of them all, the sun scorches them where it catches them in its gaze.
The same cannot be said of the folklore surrounding vampires. Perhaps more than any other accursed creature, they are the subject of innumerable superstitions amongst the unlearned. A stake of sharpened wood through the chest will incapacitate a vampire, it is true (as, it must be said, it would incapacitate most creatures), but the practice of planting a yew tree above an evil-doer’s grave will do little to dissuade the dead from rising in any form (though, given the swiftness of a vampire’s revival, a slow-growing tree seems singularly unsuited to that task). That a vampire can be distracted by casting grains of rice or salt on the ground can also be disregarded: some scholars theorize an individual vampire obsessed with the study of mathematics may indeed have stopped to count some accidentally-spilled grains at some point in the distant past or, perhaps, that some ignorant observer mistook some vampire-hunter’s ritual circle as cast salt.
While vampirism is a virulent curse, true vampires remain rare. The predatory cunning of a vampire precludes it from spreading its ‘gift’ in an uncontrolled fashion, lest it draw attention to itself; far better to meticulously plan, enthralling only those necessary to get within striking distance of their target. Whether this progeny becomes a lesser vampire in their service, or is allowed to drink their sire’s blood and become a fully-fledged independent, depends on the vampire in question. Many vampires prefer the unquestioned authority that comes of thralls and spawn, though some easily grow bored of being unchallenged and, trusting to their powers of persuasion or combat prowess, allow free-willed allies to flourish. These partnerships, though thankfully unusual, can be truly fearsome if they continue unchecked. One powerful vampire can, over time, bend an entire region to its thrall: two vampires, with decades or centuries of experience working in concert, does not bear thinking about.
While vampires can eat and drink, they do not need to, and common food is dull and flavorless to them. Those that do choose to partake typically only consume the richest and most indulgent meals, both to sample the greatest flavor (and therefore approach a level of taste they can appreciate), and to complement their taste for an indulgent lifestyle. Some take a perverse pleasure in taking food from the mouths of others, and eat to excess purely out of spite, knowing that someone, somewhere is eating less as a result.
The only sustenance required for a vampire to survive is blood. The blood of any living creature will serve, though each vampire has their own tastes, with those few vampires open to commenting likening it to one’s taste in wine. Preference for particular races is common, though some vampire’s tastes are more esoteric; refusing to drink anything but the blood of aged, magically-inclined elves for instance. The blood of animals is considered too crude for any but pariahs to consider drinking in anything less than the direst of emergencies, though it is commonly used by good vampires, as rare as they may be.
Without regular feeding, the vampire’s physical form will devolve to reflect its nature, becoming more twisted and bestial over time, as its shapeshifting powers wane and its human and animal forms begin to bleed into one another. A hungry vampire tends to be the most dangerous; being unable to blend in amongst its prey, it has little to lose from killing at will, and everything to gain. A vampire’s form will also alter with extreme age, with truly ancient vampires appearing truly monstrous (rather than the bestial melding of a hungry vampire). The disease’s potency increases with age, as demonstrated by elder vampires’ resilience and power, and it may be that this increased potency brings with it further physical mutations, which in turn require more effort from the vampire in question, should it wish to mask them. Many ancient vampires, it seems, are simply unwilling to make the effort, unless absolutely necessary.
The nature of a vampire’s lair will depend entirely upon its relationship with society as a whole. Those that live secretly amongst their prey might settle for a relatively modest lifestyle, curbing their darker impulses for the ease with which they can access blood. The dwelling of such a vampire might be indistinguishable from that of a living being (save that there may be traces of the obsessive personality which comes part and parcel of their curse) or, more commonly, may hide a place of sanctuary in which the creature might indulge in its true nature. A hidden cellar might house a coffin (or, at least, a source of grave dirt for the vampire’s rest) or restraints to keep a living food source close by.
Exposed vampires, or those without the wit or desire to attempt to blend in, may have no choice but to embrace their role as monsters in the night. Such individuals are unlikely to retreat to the wilderness, like many similar creatures, and may instead be forced into a parasitic existence in the backstreets, sewers, and slums. Vampires of this kind are the most likely to band together and to create full-fledged vampires to swell their ranks, as their scavenger lifestyle benefits from strength of numbers.
At the other end of the scale are those rare vampires who live openly in a position of power (which they will, almost universally, abuse): with a network of enthralled underlings to support them, they are free to shape their environment exactly to their liking. These demagogues will take residence in the grandest abode available, and may demand the construction of even more opulent or defensive dwellings. Depending on the vampire’s personality, it may wish enthralled mortals to offer themselves as willing food sources, or might prefer to keep a stock of ‘cattle’; imprisoned, enslaved, or enthralled people who exist only as a source of blood for the vampire or, in the best-case scenario, as favored pets. A secure vampire can afford to produce many underlings to help keep their position (though many, the more paranoid or power-hungry, do not), and an entire class of undead nobility can spring up, with commoners offering up their children as tribute for the hope of giving them a better ‘life’, or vampires selecting from their paramours.
Vampires, when taken as a whole, are as many and varied as any group of peoples and, thus, each individual vampire will be an individual unto itself. However, there are three common elements that pervade the vampiric character. Vampires are very powerful, and most of them are aware of this fact. Given this knowledge, a vampire is likely to be confident, or at least skeptical, of opposition, be it physical or mental. A young vampire may be full of vigor, so excited by the massive degree of ability it now possesses, and run the risk of becoming rash and unthoughtful.
A vampire’s extremely protracted life (barring any run-ins with external influences precipitating the ending of their un-life) gives them, above almost anything, perspective. Wisdom comes from experience. Patience comes from practice in waiting. Boredom comes from the feeling of having seen or done everything worth seeing or doing. With this comes the common vampiric trait of obsession, and mastery of a particular subject or skill. As mentioned, vampires are drawn to people, often the more the better. This means places such as towns and cities can be havens for them, especially if they are able to restrain themselves to allow for coexistence. Within these settings, vampires gravitate toward culture of many kinds. Sometimes appreciating, sometimes participating, but always seeing the value in the finer things. This does not always mean material possessions, or the typical indulgences or vices. It can also mean simply valuing, even in someone they may otherwise detest, the rarity and value of a truly stimulating conversation. As a vampire ages, their tastes are honed and refined; not only in matters of food, but in all aspects of life.
Lastly, after all else, at its most base, a vampire is ferocious. When all pretense is flung aside, niceties discarded, and any semblance of sophistication and poise is done away with, a vampire stands as a manifestation of bestial thirst and fury; an apex predator fully aware of its status, and with little to no regard for any beings that might be so foolish as to deny their will. Any who do so will be swept aside or, more likely, devoured.
Whether a vampire will participate in combat is purely dependent on their mood and perspective. If they don’t take the opponent seriously, or have something better to do, they will often leave handling of those threats to underlings. If, however, the vampire does feel a need (or desire) to participate, they will hold nothing back.
A vampire in its full fury is a thing to behold. It will fight tooth and claw, employing flight or shapeshifting when advantageous. They will engage in melee combat and displays of magical power with equal prowess. A vampire is a natural ambusher, typically biding their time until the opportune moment, and then springing into horrific, unrelenting violence. Targets are chosen first based upon eliminating the potential for opponents to recover and, second, based on who seems like the easiest prey, then moving up the food chain.
In a familiar environment, and at the height of its power, it is not uncommon for vampires to play with their victims, as a cat with a mouse, allowing them a false sense of security before unleashing their full fury. Some enjoy this simply for the feeling of superiority, while others claim the increased level of fear adds a unique flavor to the blood.
