The Vampires of Lewidzia
Lewidzia is a cool, wet land, situated between the fertile grasslands and Mediterranean coast of Hercua and the cold forests and steppe of Qoldishtar. A quasi-republic, a monarchy whose king is elected for life, Lewidzia's life-blood is the Véisar (Łejćyr) River, which runs from the Podrzyl Mountains down to the Sea of Varafar. It brings valued freshwater down from pure springs in the highlands, snaking across the plains and connecting communities otherwise isolated in seas of grass and trees. It's often rainy in Lewidzia, too, or at least cloudy, and so it should be no surprise that there's a taste for rather gaudy but highly colourful decorations on buildings, clothing, and even food.
It's also home to a large number of rather more sinister characters. Or, at the very least, characters whose origins are quite sinister indeed.
There are multiple cultures on Ajjamah where vampirisim is a common threat. Salvian chupacabras actually do exist, although they're more of a pest than a threat at this point. Dubal has stories of witch-doctors turning into bats to feed. Mujaran soulsuckers have a tendency to go for any kind of "precious bodily fluids", not just blood. A few common traits in these areas and others like Tjamowehrl and the tribes along the Ocúraçõ River include the sucking of blood, occasional shapeshifting, and a corpse-like appearance. Oddly enough, though, the closest spiritual equivalent to the vampires in form and function would be the zombies of West Potamia, particularly in the Army of the Dead. The line between a living practitioner who controls those both living and dead and a dead one who can come back and do the same is...a little blurred at times among Lewidzian vampires, however, while the zombies and their kings are very distinct. As it is, though, both groups share something in common: they are very keen on acquiring control, which they always feel is just slipping away from them...
Vampires in Lewidzia are called kodźybiłnu, which literally means "the unburnt ones". There are several reasons for this; one is that, well, they haven't actually had their bodies burnt at the stake yet, which is the traditional means of dealing with vampires. Another is said to refer to their tendency to avoid the sunlit days, living by the glow of the moon and stars and the half-shadow light of the Midnight Sun. A third is that the word is almost certainly a euphemism for another, semiawyl, which no longer is used to refer to vampires or indeed much at all, although the earliest texts make mention of it.
Most magic on Ajjamah derives from the use of the Speech, the Song, or Names, including the Names of powerful spirits. The Name that the vampires Speak is called Omu by the Kwehnu, Nut by the Yamatsok in far Borealia, Güã by the tribes along the mighty Ocúraçõ River, Nrirraputjani by the Warruk tribes of Irthiron…to the Lewidzians it is Dećątor, "the master of pacts". History will call it the Unforgotten. What it grants is power over life and death—or perhaps the better word would be control. Vampires can rise from the crypt, certainly, and they can force others to rise to do their bidding as well, heal rapidly, leave their victims in a catatonic state. But perhaps most importantly, they push themselves to the peak, mentally and physically.
Living or dead, they tend to look much the same—like someone who is flat-out exhausted. Red eyes, slightly limp (or stiff) body, the occasional tendency to mumble what seems to be nonsense, slightly frazzled hair no matter how perfect they try to keep it...someone who is pushed to their peak at all times won't look particularly energetic, no matter how powerful they are in reality. Oh, and it is very, very rare for them to have children, unless they want to—and even then it’s mostly male vampires, female vampires tending to be less comfortable with long-term changes they can feel their bodies going through. (As it stands, though, what doesn’t quite work in life allows them in death to keep their bodies marvellously well-preserved. Unless someone kills them twice, anyway.)
Control extends to other facets of their life, too. Formality, protocol, and above all accuracy are important; for vampires, they’re the best way of ensuring the score is kept properly. Many of those Turned were at one point nobles or became them later (hard workers, no matter the craving for black pudding), and so there are professional courtesies to keep up. There was one poor lady, Ertyd Wenuk, whose entire family died of ulic plague, and who in desperation managed to raise them all from the dead and keep up the ruse for a number of years before they were found out—but she did run a darn good tailoring business for a while, and people were honestly shocked to find out the sweet old lady’s somewhat reclusive relatives occasionally went out at night to eat steak tartare fresh from the buffalo. Others, though, can be downright cruel. Control is what they want, after all, and if marking everyone attractive in town with a neck-bite is how a vampire can show off what a prolific lover they are, then so be it, even if the minds of their victims tend to be a bit broken afterwards. They tend to dislike Sobornist agiaries or indeed any religious locales, because having gods poking around in their heads is unbearable. For related reasons, they tend to dislike others with magical powers, especially local witches and wizards.
Vampires are generally solitary when not putting on a show; although they may be the life (aha) of a party, they also tend to prefer their own company to that of humans and especially that of other vampires. But sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your cravings. There are coven meetings, but they tend to be either cabals of like-minded (scary thought) vampires trying to influence power politics in the country, or those trying to ease themselves away from certain neurotic habits like biting people (no, Szobr, it’s...impolite to do that to strangers, behave or I’ll bring out the holy fire again). There’s often a subtle power-play in these groups too.
The other main place they congregate is the Census Bureau, the oldest (in several ways) ministry in the country. And they are meticulous. And prone to complaining about the coffee.
Vampires can be killed, and they can return—but kill them in two different ways at once and it's much, much less likely. And if they abuse their powers, then when they're properly killed, just like for anyone who takes a Name in vain, things go terribly, terribly wrong.
Normally, for people granted the powers of different Names, they can still go to an afterlife of their choice. The most powerful maintain a presence in the mortal world instead, as spiritual children of their Name. But when you misuse the power—and a great many vampires do, the temptation is great and the personalities so apt to give in—then two things happen to you. First, your body becomes defunct in some way; in their case, it’s a tendency to crumble to dust if “killed” by two things at the same time. And second, what’s left of your conscious mind is ripped apart, piece by piece, the memories scattered to the winds and the energy within returning to the Name to be used afresh by someone else. The self, in other words, dies with the body.
Actually, though, one of the worst things about being a vampire isn’t the late hours, or losing people, or the craving for blood (iron deficiencies), or the fact that, should you choose to keep living, then when you’re finally killed you’ll just crumble into ash and your soul will be lost forever. It’s that you start to see the whole world as being in constant fluctuation, every thinking mind chaotic and not under control. Not under your control. That’s how it is normally, too, but with the Unforgotten singing away in your head you can change that. Ritual becomes more important than logic; despite having a relatively clear head, a vampire will nevertheless choose to do something stupid because it’s part of the ritual, even when it means losing out on a source of blood, except in circumstances which might lead to (ultimate) death. And if you have a hobby, be prepared for it to become an obsession very, very quickly…and you feel so tired…
On the other hand, while you don’t have control (yet) over the world, you have perfect control over yourself. You can focus your thoughts to any subject and puzzle out answers quite quickly, have all senses—including smell and a mild electromagnetic coordination—operating at maximum capacity, you can run like a sled-dog and climb sheer walls like a goat…and you’re strong. Very, very strong. You don’t need to worry about muscles snapping or bones cracking from feats of superhuman strength, because the Unforgotten won’t let you die until it’s had its say, and needs you in good condition. Plus, consuming the life-force of other beings really does speed up the ol’ convalescence.
Oh, and you get full and free access to communion with animals. You can command them to do your bidding, yes, but the ones with souls are also a lot of fun to talk to. A great many vampires have familiars of a sort, who put up with their Boy or Girl’s eccentricities in exchange for food, water, shelter, comfort, and conversation. Not always bats or rats, either—Count Atredrzyd si Jeceńy is said to have an army of platypus spies. (In fact he has one. His name is Viscount Ducky.)
Vampire history has been intertwined with Lewidzian history since prior to the country's foundation, but their involvement hasn't been all bad. …a lot of it has been bad, but vampires are also surprisingly patriotic creatures.
Back in the 3670s LC, a Hercuan mission (read: army) tried to set itself up in the capital of Bydrzancy to convert the locals via the usual methods, plagues and heavenly fire and whatnot…and within a few days they were either drained entirely of blood and most likely dead, or had fled north again, raving about the need for a full crusade against the heathen demons. Coincidentally, the marriage of charming young debutante Sizą Norek to the timelessly handsome Baron Gazil Dołysztro drew nobles, notables, and a large percentage of the Census Bureau from all over the country to Bydrzancy right around the same time. Just a happy coincidence, most likely.
That aside, and beyond the tale of poor Ertyd Wenuk the tailor (described above), there was that one time noted newspaper owner Lycz Lyczuro almost single-handedly pioneered the introduction of Irthironian science to Lewidzia, in the 4050s LC. This may have been done as a protest against the Sobornist deacons, who were growing “lax and complacent in their role as mediator between a man (sic) and his own soul.” It may have been done to help push Lewidzian into the modern day and maintain its role as dual buffer state for Hercua and Qoldishtar. Surprisingly, this met with a lot of resistance from the other vampires, but despite his untimely death (accidentally being stabbed with a toothpick at a party), this has actually been a boon to the country.
Come visit the castles, sometime. You'll be able to tell which ones, because the vampires like to advertise; gargoyles are very much in vogue this millennium, and they're tailor-made to the tastes of the castle's oldest occupant. The servants tend to be loyal but under something of a spell, staring off into space—docile, if only for now. Expect a charming if somewhat distracted host or hostess, who will try their best to command your attention through various means, and a decent supper that will almost certainly be missing some staple crop. Garlic is most commonly absent, but anything might be missed, from turnips to wine. (Some counts can't stand…wine.) Do not expect a large family, but a fair number of portraits? Certainly. Climb the stairs to your tower, which most likely don't creak because it plays merry hell with their master or mistress' ears, to your room. Settle in. Leave the window open, if you like, to get a good few lungfuls of the fresh mountain air, or for a spectacular view of the Véisar below.
These days, it's equally likely that instead of a nighttime visitation, your host will try to swindle you out of your cash in a card game, or will ask you to solve puzzle boxes, or will pump you for information about current affairs elsewhere in the world. They may even try to get you to visit their bed, in which case your own will remain empty. It's worth noting that vampires are by nature meticulously clean, and not actually corpselike in most particulars.
Nevertheless, you may find yourself with an uninvited nocturnal guest.
In case of vampire, break the glass on the compartment beside the bed for a handy stake. They've prepared it specially, and it'll work, if you use it right. What's the point of not having a challenge, after all?