I told in the first chapter of my story how
I became a vampire and of my first kill. While it might (and,
indeed, should) horrify the reader that my first victim was
a friend of the mortal I used to be, it is my understanding
that they are not uncommon first kills.
I left the snow white corpse in the alley
and ran to the only place I felt perversely safe, the masoleum.
For the first couple days of my undeath, I starved myself
while I considered my fate. I relearned what I was capable
of doing, and found that I was stronger, faster, tougher,
and more agile than before. I had powers that as a knight
I had only seen powerful mages wield. Later, I discovered
additional abilities, such as a total immunity to disease.
Helpful when descending on a plague-stricken city like a jackal.
I also found my weaknesses. I could no longer
stand the light of the sun -- exposure to it for longer than
a few seconds burned me terribly. It also pained me to enter
temples and other places of worship. The worst effect, of
course, had to be my blood lust. If I did not kill a warm
blooded creature once a night and drink its blood, my hunger
would gnaw at me, and any wounds I suffered would not heal
no matter how much I rested.
Is this the moment for me to admit that there
was a time I loved being a bloodsucking creature of the night?
It is not impossible to live only at night, merely occasionally
inconvenient. And I wouldn't have to kill humans every night,
merely warm-blooded creatures. Orcs have a delicious, rich
brothy blood; rats are a little sweet for the only meal of
the night; werewolves are a real treat, almost decadent the
tincture between human and beast. A real gourmet's delight.
About a month after I died, I was having the
best time of my life. One night, I received a letter from
someone who said he was "family." Curious, I went
to visit him at his tavern, and was told about the tribe of
vampires to which I belonged -- the Montalion. In return for
me performing certain duties for the "family," the
man at the inn would train my in my vampiric abilities and
Though I never got very much detail, I surmised
that the two main differences between the different vampire
clans is geography and powers. Montalion alone have the gift
for teleportation, but the other eight have powers of their
My mentor (that is the title he used) would
congratulate me after each mission I performed, and came to
trust me more and more. If asked, he would tell me about the
Montalion's newest alliances, who they were manipulating,
who they were stalking. It was then I started to become frightened
at last. They, and all of their rival clans, were draining
the blood of Tamriel itself.
I panicked. I had to find a cure. But nowhere
could I find any book or rumor suggesting that vampirism is
anything but permanent. So I resolved to kill myself, but
I wanted to bring the Montalion down with me. I joined guilds
they opposed, and failed any mission given to me spectacularly.
I thought my mentor would turn against me, but he only became
quieter, less forthcoming with information, never violent.
He was not concerned. He had probably seen vampires like me
Here's why he never attacked me: immortals
can afford to be eternally patient.
At last, he refused to give me any further
missions. He wouldn't even talk with me, but he never left
his tavern. I could come and go, and he'd watch but never
talk. That's when I got another letter.
There are several of us, you see, former vampires
who know what to look for. We're patient too: we learned it
in our unlife. We watch and listen, and anonymously contact
the vampires we know wish to end the curse.
Ending the curse is possible, but only just.
It is very dangerous, but when you are cursed, the only real
danger is no escape.
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