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“No man knows till he has suffered from the night
how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be.”
― Jonathan Harker
Below, you will find an extensive collection of lore considered canon to my roleplay story and world. It is influenced by, inspired by, and taken from various works of fiction as well as real life, including history and current events etc. It is continuously being worked on, updated and refined, containing a compendium of the World of Vampires as a whole and even beyond, including: Characters, History, Politics, Culture, Wars -- and more.
The corruption of the Night awaits, and you are more than welcome to partake in it... or become part of it.
VAMPIRE CHARACTERS
The Brides│Virgiliu Dracula│Mircea Dracula│Erzsébet Báthory│Bruno Ikarov││Petar Blagojević│Lady Eleanor│Kakistos
Robin Harker│Jayden Thornley│Countess Dolingen│Maria Goodwin│Robert Hensworth│Karl Lueger│Max│Lord Ezekiel
Agmundr│Camilla Romanescu│Marie Anette Carlisle│Nicholas Carlisle│Javier Crueza│Pavel Marlow │Andrei Ambrožič│
Mama Elaganza││Deiderich Kraus│Nathaniel Renwick│Jelena Santiago│Bahir Pasha│Caelan│Barnabáš│The Father│
Érebos││Frank the vagabond│Balthazar│Katarina Dufwa││
HUMAN CHARACTERS
Abraham Van Helsing│Jonathan Harker│Mina Harker│Lucy Westenra│Quincey P. Morris│Arthur Holmwood│Dr John Seward
R.M. Renfield│Steiner Leichtenberg│Ralph the taxi driver│Giovanni Agosti│Anderson│Rebecca Harris││Maddox
Romenduz Tavala│Doomsayer│Valeri Dojstov│Abraham Sullivan│David Sullivan│Blair O'Connor│Mother Anna│
Heliga Birgitta│
OTHER CHARACTERS
The Dread Doctors│Zoltan│The Wendigo of Castle Dracula│La bête du Gévaudan│Oliver Harker│Synova│Timothy Holmes│
Anna Darvolya││
LOCATIONS WITHIN THE WORLD - VAMPIRE, HUMAN, OTHER SUPERNATURAL
Castle Dracula│The Carpathian Mountains│The Village│Carfax Abbey│Seward's Sanitarium││
The Tavala Village││The City of Enoch││Tomb of Thanatos
Abandoned Building│ │Virgil's mansion │Robin's house│Dracula's Mansions
المدينة الغارقة (almadinat alghariqa, or The Sunken City │
│││
THE WORLD OF VAMPIRES
The Traditions│The Vampire Hierarchy│The Masquerade│Domains│Hunting Grounds│Communication amongst the Undead│
Pax Inmortuae│The War of Ages│Lexicon of the Dead│The Modern Night│The Ancients│The Generation Theory
The Embrace│The Beast Within│Final Death│Blood Bond │Blights│Thrall│Vampire Hunters
Humans loyal to Dracula│The Demeter │The Ichor│Foul Rituals and Dark Beginnings│Romanian Treasure│Antediluvian│
VAMPIRE ORGANISATIONS
The Societas Immortalium│The Sabbat│The Anarch Movement│Malakut│
Children of Caine│The Eye││ │││The Order││
The Night Children││││
THE WORLD OF HUMANS
Humanity and the Supernatural││Vampire Hunters│Faith│True Faith│The Second Inquisition││
HUMAN ORGANISATIONS
The Department of Paranormal Activities│The Holy Order of Saint Michael 'The Inquisition'│The Van Helsing Association│
The Arthur Initiative│The Coalition against Dracula│The Holmwood Family│The Harker Family
The Company of Three│The Church of Father's Glory│ The Hunter Society│The Order of the Dragon│
THE WORLD OF THE SUPERNATURAL
OTHER SUPERNATURAL ORGANISATIONS
The Vampires of the East 'Jiangshi'││
EVENTS IN THE WORLD - VAMPIRE, HUMAN, AND OTHER SUPERNATURAL
Concordia Immortalium│Failed London Takeover│The Blood Feud
Dracula's absence │The hunt for the Heartstone
OBJECTS -VAMPIRE, HUMAN, AND OTHER SUPERNATURAL
The sword of Dracul│Dragon key│The Dracul family ring│De Dödas Huvudbonad (Crown of the Dead)│
Quincey's kukri knife│Staff of Ra│Heart Stone│Mysterious box│Seal of Dracul│Bram Stoker's Dracula novel│ │
│Love letter to Timothy│Robin's gun│Malum Praesidium││
MISCELLANEOUS LORE
Comments
IT ME
BLEH BLE BLERRRHHH
BLEH - BL- BLEHHH
There was feeling, a craving, a need even, to throw the lid back on and run far far away. A bad feeling had managed to leech onto him which festered and rotted his mad-ridden confidence. A mistake he couldn't take back. His hands were shaky as he tried as hard he could to not look away from the sprawling mess before him. How could he have let his emotions take control of him like this? Even to himself, he was just a slave. Bioluminescent eyes, fiery and filled with hatred flickered as his confidence was shaken. This was exactly why his father was so hard on him, why he encouraged patience. The boy was too impulsive, too passionate. Virgiliu hated the idea of his father being right. His clawed fingers dug into the edge of the sarcophagus, the flickering in his eyes returning to burning red hues. He was angry not only at his father but himself as well. He'd let all this happen. He'd been a slave to his anger - his hatred. Incapable of self-control, just like the writhing figure caught in his perpetual gaze. This was the fate that would eventually await him as well if he did not learn. If he did not let himself learn.
But. There was another part of him as well. The part of him that was victim to Dracula's cruel ways. The part of him that had no humanity left. The part of him that had made itself into his skin, and shaped him into the horrible beast he now embodied. A part of him that forced the corners of his mouth to form a wicked grin as his predecessor took form into something that resembled a living being. The part of him that was laughing through a mouth full of sharp teeth. Revenge. Revenge. Revenge. The part of him who held nothing but selfish desire. Power. Control. Destruction. The monster his father had created.
But all his conflicting thoughts came to a sudden stop as a shriek echoed through the rock-walled tunnels, which sent the younger creature fumbling backwards, covering his sensitive ears with a cry-like groan in agony. The sudden shriek, followed by a fainter echoing reply had completely broken through Virgil's beastly demeanour, causing him to curl up like a frightened kitten along the wall. It was then that he noticed the writhing had stopped. Instead, controlled thumping could be heard as the figure crawled its way out of the sarcophagus. The dead awoken at last. This was it, he thought. This was what it had all led to. A fragile corpse incapable of standing upright. A broken soul. This was his "great sword" to use against his father. Weak. Pathetic. Useless. A successful failure, or a failed success. Nothing but waster time and wasted anger. And a frustrated sigh escaped him, followed by a groan as he got up to his feet, only to watch the living corpse collapse onto the floor in front of him. Was this truly all that was left of the ferocious man his father had warned him about? Perhaps there was more to it, and he watched with great judgement as what was left of his half-brother struggled onto two legs, to meet his gaze. Alas, the weakling stumbled in terror at Virgil's sight to his great dismay. That was truly it. A pathetic remnant of a great past.
"Et maledixit mihi verissime deos" he muttered in a dark voice akin to snake's hissing as he stepped closer to the shell of a former man. He wasn't sure how to approach. This was far from what he had imagined. After those tales of the passionate blood-crazed monster, he'd come to expect something more. Something greater. Despite being older than most mortals could ever hope to be, Virgiliu was still naïve and fool-hearted. He did not understand the values of patience or the progression of time. He thought, or wanted very badly, for everything to be perfect on the first try. He'd have imagined his brother's resurrection to be more like inviting a god into your home. Thunder and lighting, fires from hell, booming voices of sacrificial demands. Demons fleeing in terror. But instead, he got this. A struggling bag of bones. But he had to say something. even if he didn't know whether the scrawny creature would understand. He needed those stories. He needed a god. And so he opened his mouth and spoke; "You are not the brother I hoped to bring back" he continued, reaching his hand out to touch the newly risen's face to get his attention from the carved name "That name is no longer yours. That name was earned by a man who died a long time ago. It is time you earn it back."
"It is time to bring back Thanatos"
It certainly wasn't that funny. Not enough to warrant that kind of laugh out of him either. Alice shot a glare, her face tired yet full of such a feral rage that she might have gone for his throat at that very moment. His sorry about it also sounded like shit. She would wait, and feist without tasting. Because she didn't need to taste it to know that it was food and water that she needed. And that with a full belly it might make it easier for her to sleep so that the cold didn't feel like it was going right through her and she might be able to stand a chance on her own if she were left on her own again. Which she would be. She needed strength more than all though, thus she would listen.
Would she listen? No. No probably not. See, Alice didn't care about his sob story, this was just something to distract her while she ate. A buzz of white noise in the background that she could push into the back of her mind and disregard later. He was not important to her. None of the people on this island were. All she needed now was to find a good spot where she could leave. Getting him to flab his jowls about some obituary worthy shitty tail about his woes would be one of those.
Shit, she had a bad past too, she wasn't about to spout it for him to hear and call that civil. If anything she would take what she needed from the story, things that could wound him, tails that could lead her to making him hesitate, take him down easier. She needed a day, a single day to regain her strength then start about getting out of this shithole and out of the sight of him while she was at it.
Alice chewed and drank, maybe she would even go for seconds. She didn't know. All was well until he kept getting brave and was trying to come closer to her. Her teeth snapped in her mouth each time that he did. She watched for a good second after that first time, then started again around everything in the kitchen and what could be used to get out.
She took note of the stove. Gas or electric? In a place like this likely gas. It didn't take much to spark a single flame, not with these old floorboards. She kept that little tidbit to herself. If burning this pathetic excuse of a cabin the floor was going to grant her freedom she just might go for it.
She didn't need his bloody sympathies. She wanted to growl, she wanted to throw the spoon through his eye for even addressing such a weak way of thinking of her. She was not some cat cornered, she was a panther waiting to pounce. And she would. She needed to worry about self-care right now, however. And that was making sure that she could still stand up at the end of the night and be able to think of an escape plan in the morning without worrying about toppling over.
Maybe she could seduce him... Would he fall for a switch like that of her? Or would he think of it as Stockholm syndrome? Near starved and thinking that he was the last thing on this island that was her savior might jar someone's mind into thinking that she would not be able to make it to the next day without him. A human without others (save for the fish-folk that inhabited the island). Might be that she grew alone, and needed kinship, a body (one that didn't reek) as some form of a release. That could take days, however. Weeks even for that to set in, and she did not know how long she really was going to be here. If she did succeed in that, then maybe he would pity her, and she would want him to pity her. That way when death came and that switch did happen and she was the one to make the blow he would see just how stupid he was for underestimating Alice Fucking O'Malley.
He got closer.
Again those cold dark eyes watched him. If she was going to play the seduction card than she still needed to remain resilient and have the resolve to some degree. She needed to play her part. Be an angry scorned woman before turning into a curiously trapped one. Her knuckles turned white where she held the spoon and watched him, watched him finish his bible worthy story.
A few chews later, stone coating every inch of her tongue she said, "an' while he's drillin' yer ass into the bed, ya watch a human in a cage on the side of you to be his next lil toy, is that it? I don' fuckin' care about yer sob story an' yer past. I care aboot me, an' the people I have te get home to." Her lips twitched into an ice prickled grin. "Ya think yer redeemin' yerself by lettin' this happen? Ya might as well be as fucked as him." The smile dropped and she stared holes into the bottom of her stew bowl that was half empty. She had to eat slow least her stomach roll over on itself. "Get the fuck away from me an' go lube yer arsehole up fer him again an' let me eat in peace. Am I goin' back to me dungeon after this er am I graced with a tub to sleep in?" A tub would be better than that place down there. Give her a pillow and a blanket and she would gladly sleep there. Speaking of tubs though... "An' bring me some fuckin' clothes to wear while yer at it."
A few days? That was nothing for someone who had lived as long as Maleficent. Given what she had witnessed back in the village the sorceress already came to the conclusion he was worth a decent portion of her time. If she had to spend several days on the ship, so be it. The captain was given nothing more than a brief nod and a wave of her hand in dismissal.
His words about the so called King of the vampires did not go unnoticed. Her company in the carriage gave him the same praise. Exactly what was so special about Dracula? His likeness was spreading. The more villages he destroyed, the more followers he gained. His kind spread like disease which repulsed Maleficent to a degree. Fortunately, her curiosity and interest in the species itself were driving her desire to meet the Count.
Once the captain closed the door behind him, Maleficent slowly made her way to the back of the ship and took a seat on the edge of the bed, setting her staff down beside her. As always, her raven intended to accompany her on this journey. He sat at the top of the main mast looking out ahead of them with his wings folded behind his back. If there was any sign of trouble, he would alert her before any of the crew members got the change. The so called Mistress of All Evil was not used to traveling by boat. Centuries ago she would have flown the distance to the castle. Now teleportation was her favorite form of travel.
Every four weeks, the full moon rears its ugly face in the sky. And every four weeks, Brian is left helpless to do anything to stop his curse. As he walked through the park and the field behind his home to journey further into the woods, he wondered if this will be the time where his beastly form finally kills an innocent person. A day that Brian hopes will never come, but somehow feels inevitable. Like it's destined to happen, one way or another.
He shakes his head, sighing to himself in frustration and bitterness. Wouldn't it make more sense to just put a silver bullet in his mouth and put an end to this? Put himself out of his own misery? No. He had considered it many times but he couldn't do that to his family. The ones back home who still cared for him. He needed to stay strong. He needed to stay alive, but only for them.
It was only one day every month. But what a terrible impact it had made on Brian's life. Nevermind that the transformation itself was excruciatingly painful beyond belief. Brian couldn't think of a single time where he wasn't completely dreading this time. Every now and again, life would be almost normal for him and he was allowed a small, merciful moment to forget about his curse and make believe that he was a human man, only for the crushing reality of what he was to return once more. It never mattered how deeply he tried to bury his secret, come the full moon....there was no hiding from it, or getting away from what he would become. It was so inevitable.
But while Brian was venturing into the woods and beginning to take off his jacket, he couldn't help but sense that something or someone was nearby. Maybe it was just the unnvering paranoia he often felt around this time, but he could swear someone was watching him...or maybe following him. No. He was alone. He was almost sure of it. His anxiety was running again, and taking him along for the ride. That was all.
Brian sighed to himself, stalling and hesitating with the zipper of his jacket. He hated doing this. It was so humiliating, even if he was the only one around for miles. But he had only gotten half way undressed when he felt that sensation once again. The unmistakable feeling of being looked at from afar. And he turned around to look at the darkness of the woods behind him.
"Hello?"
(Eyy. It a lil short cuz I don't like writing on ze phone, but it here)
Was it hope? That feeling of maybe. Just maybe. No. Was it fear? That. Feeling of maybe. Just maybe. No.
Virgil's breath grew shaky as tissue began to reanimate before his very eyes. Dead cells being brought back to life to replicate and regrow, like a universe left dormant. He could see every detail and for the first time in his life - he didn't know what he felt. This wasn't anger, sadness, frustration, desire, or mundane fear. None of the feelings he'd grown accustomed to. No, this was different. It was as if though his saviour was erected out of the very ground, but in the form of the Devil himself.
Was it hope? Was it fear?
His father's words rang through his anxious mind, and his eyes slowly made its way up his arm where blood had painted before. Blood is life. But what had he given life to? What could've been so terrible that it had forced his father to lock it away like this? Fear. Virgil's anxiety grew into regret - fearful that maybe he had woken a monster. Another monster. Fear grew into anger.
His eyes glared at his very own body. The skin had grown grey and deformed - scarred by sheer hatred. His fingers were long and crooked, donned by claws like talons. He had done this to him. His very own fath… Dracula had done this to him. Dracula had crossed the line. Anger lead to hope. Dracula had done this to him as well. They had that much in common. A common hatred. A common goal.
"inimicus inimici mei amicus meus est?" he whispered with grovelled words. 'Is the enemy of my enemy my friend?' was a good question, but he said it more in hopes of pleading his case to whomever - whatever - was reanimating before him. Not that he expected the corpse to understand him. Maybe he said it to soothe himself, more than him. It is an Arab proverb, but Virgil always preferred Latin. It was easier to pronounce and spell. And Latin is universal, and traces of it are found in almost every language spoken in Europe. And unbeknownst to him, it would make its way even further in the centuries to come.
But what would he do when his half brother awoke? What would he say? And would he be able to? His fa… Dracula had painted the man as a ravenous beast with little humanity. But then, were he, or himself, any different? Creatures of the night who prey on those not able to fight. Vampires. Leeches. Parasites. Life drainers. Was it even possible to be in a moral superior position when you feed on the life of other creatures? On humans - creatures with intelligence almost as complex as those of Dracula's kind. Humans, who are cattle with voices that can be heard and understood. Humans who were just like himself, only mortal. How could he think himself better than Dracula if he himself committed equal immoral actions? At least he would love his children, had he any. Maybe that was what could justify his current path in his undead life. He was aware of the moral complications of his existence. This was what made him better than Dracula. His father.
"Hanc ego nunc agam. In contra te. Est malignitas tu." Virgil hissed between his long, exposed teeth. His eyes, a fiery yellow. This wasn't to save anyone. He didn't do this for the better of the world. He did this, not because it was justified, but because it was justice. Justice didn't necessarily have to be justified. It wasn't right. But it had to be done. It was revenge. The words he had spoken; 'I'm doing this now. Against you. To spite you', reflected very well his acknowledgement of his deeds. It was personal. It had always been, but before he had tried to justify going behind his father's back by stating that it was to free others from his tyranny. But he was too much alike his father. He realised this now. He boasted the physical appearance as a representation of what his father was on the inside - a monster.
And the best way to fight a monster, was with two monsters of your own. Virgiliu and Thanatos. Flourishing Death. Hopefully it would be enough to bring the monster down.
Hopefully.
Unless he awoke something worse...
Oh, the poor fool. Did he not know that the exact opposite reaction of telling a woman, much like herself, to shut up was really going to work? Alice had chronic anger since she was was a kid. Some things like that just did not go away and would never go away. She was red in the face even before he got to the famed, 'I'm the only thing you've got right now," speech to the point that she spat in the air so loud spit went flying from her teeth. "Am sorry, did I ask you to fuckin' mansplain me to shut up? Yer nothin' but an annoyin' bird with no bite. Befer ya wanna try some shit like that with me ya wanna be findin' out exactly who the fuck I am, lad." So much for that.
"Ya wanna preach yer own shit then go to a church, I shut the fuck up on me own bloody terms, no' to a posh sunuva a bitch like you who thinks ya cannae throw yer weight around. Sure, ya might be the only one here right now who is no' trying to murder me on hand, don' mean that I gotta respect ya fer it. Get yerself a princess if ya wanted someone silent."
*****
Goodness, that was a way to put it. Sugar was only a temporary high, one that would do nothing to help her and only sap her strength later if she decided to have any of it. She only had one thing in mind, then another if she felt safe enough for it. Maybe the bathroom. Those were pretty fools proof, she could sleep in the tub, just give her a pillow and she would feel great. She thought of this while she ate. He was right to think that the food would go appreciated. It was something only to keep her body going, she didn't care what it tasted like. Any mushrooms if there were picked out. She hated the brown little things in there and a one-celled fungus was not something that should make people go yum. Alice did not cook herself. Which was easy when you were on a salad diet or stew. She often ate out, but only at the healthiest places. Sandwiches were easy to make, as were garden salads. Didn't take rocket science. But something warm like this helped to fill her belly and make her feel stronger. That check. Water, check. Now just the sleeping part was needed then she could devise a way to get the hell out of here.
Fist, one would need to learn her enemy.
Right after he stopped talking friendly with her. For everything, he said her chewing became faster and her glare more feral that was set upon him. This wasn't how the whole captive thing worked, didn't he know that? Or was he desperate enough to want to have something civilized to carry a conversation with that he was trying with even her? Whatever, let him talk. Her mind was steaming already with ways to get out and run for the hills. How well that would work? She didn't know that yet. She would give it her best shot. No way was she ever planning on just sitting here idoly and letting whatever play out play out. He'd be tootin' to think that she would.
She drank the water down to the middle of the glass then continued on with the stew again. He bragged about no weight gain, she pitched her question, then she waited as he went on to elaborate whatever brainwash those people were under to have them stay on some shitty place like this. liberated, that's a way to put it. Now they were bending over backward just to get a whiff of his ass and was pretending that it smelled of sunshine and daisies. This would work in her favor though. It looked to her the people were salt poisoned idiots. they only knew attack, no strategy. She could work with that. Make it in her favor. She only needed time to think about it. be it that gun was apart of the plan or not. "An' you? Why did ya run into Mr. Bleh bleh bleh? No by choice I assume."
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