Vampire Masters

Sometimes the branches of vampiric blood make leeches and parasites, sometimes it pools deep, creating the night royalty. The common vampires are too reckless, too frenzied to form a disciplined army — they are held in check by the ruthless lords and ladies of their kind. At their apex, sits Mara the vampire queen.

We see the puissant strains. We see the Sanguine Hulks. They changed their addiction, feeding on the blood of their own kind. Their diet, their concentrated blood, thick as tar, amplifies their supernatural powers to a degree their still too-humanoid forms can barely contain. See the abnormal proportions and symmetry, the knots of muscles writhing like mollusks beneath distended skin. Such strength and resilience comes at a price. Their lives are much shorter than the others of their kind — either starving to death, unable to accept any lesser blood, or being killed by their kin as too big a liability. The other vampire masters look at them with veiled contempt. These hulks are powerful, are useful siege weapons, but they are just that, tools. They are merely common vampires given a blasphemous shortcut.

We see the Blood Vampires. They hail from pure bloodlines, direct and short lineages back to the original monsters created by Lilith in the long ago. They are few in number. They are difficult to destroy. Unlike their less pure kin, the blood vampires are resilient to sunlight, though they still detest it. The unholy purity of their blood bestows great and strange powers, often unique to the individual, from shapeshifting to advanced magic. Eyes that glitter in the dark and skin that shows like marble without blemish.

We see the Blood Vampire Magi. While the aristocratic vampire bloodlines bestow potent supernatural powers, some devote themselves to further occult study, honing their magical craft. Cut off from anima as a source of power, they have learned to cannibalise the energies from the stolen blood in their veins. This renders them physically weaker than their earthier kin, emaciating their frames with the purge of every ritual. They claim to require the blood of the magically abled, but this is an affectation rather than a scientific fact.

We see the Blood Vampire Generals. They are the ringleaders in the war effort, often of royal descent — Mara’s own brood, handpicked through the centuries, loyal to her over Lilith. They are the most focused and organised of her fighters, having come trained for war. Formidable in combat in their own right, yet far too proud to swathe themselves in rags and fight by daylight. The generals prefer to direct from the shadows of the siege engines and nests, or wait for nightfall before emerging. They are contemptuous of the human cattle and of their lesser cousins on the battlefield, the serfs of their Vampire Nation.

We see the Vampire Lords and Ladies. Each is unique, only their tremendous power serves as a commonality — not a group, but individuals at the top of the supernatural food chain. It is said they can trade their human skins for that of a demon at the speed of thought. It is said they cannot permanently die, but that their resurrection can be delayed by spreading their remains. Sweetling, do you know the name of the most famous vampire lady?

Some vampire masters, when threatened, will shapeshift into a great bat and fly away. Few have seen this transformation, and fewer still have tracked the fleeing strigoi to witness them transform back into their humanoid shape. We wonder what secrets they might spill?

We see the Queen of Vampires. We see Mara. Centuries of power trapped in the halls of the turbulent mind of an eighteen-year-old. She is the instigator of the current woes of Transylvania. She has always lived apart from the world in the surreal bubble of royalty, from the Sultan’s opulence, to princess of Wallachia, to a first-blooded vampire queen, she has strutted through five centuries recklessly and selfishly. At turns, she plays at the highest levels of supernatural intrigue — all while being driven by turmoil more personal. She is driven by a desire to seek attention from her “mother”, Lilith. She twists in a carousel of love and hate over her mortal lover, Vlad Dracula. We see the Son of the Dragon. We see the Impaler Prince. We see the lover of Mara. And what of Vlad Dracula? His story was mostly written and re-written by those who sought to destroy him. But that, sweetling, is another bedtime story.