This is the third part of my playthrough of Tim Hutchings’ Thousand Year Old Vampire. To see my overview of the game, click HERE, and to see the cast of characters and the origin of Nathaniel Morrison, vampire, click HERE. Click the tags to see all of the posts pertaining to this game.
THE JOURNAL OF NATHANIEL MORRISON, ADVISOR TO THE ESTATE OF THE LATE DUKE RUTHERFORD
December 4th, 15xx
In the weeks that followed Elliot’s death, the estate was alive with visitors–family, friends, debtors, vultures–all vying to secure their share of his riches, or to absolve themselves of the responsibility of adding to them. For the family, especially for my dear Sara Rutherford, Lady Fousburry, this was an extremely trying time, as their grieving process for Lord Fousburry was stymied by the need to fend off these…well, vampires, I guess the most apt word would be.
And if it is the way of vampires to profit from the suffering of innocents amongst the rabble, then I, too, embraced this path. I kept my distance, advising when needed, but hiding in my tower when I could. Though I could not shake the guilt of my role in Elliot’s death, his family was convinced that it was the result of a night of heavy drinking, and that my part in his death was merely that of an accomplice. They were right on the first count, of course, though not in the way they thought.
My solitude was not spent in mourning, however; rather, I spent this time understanding the nature of my new reality. As I have said before, I tested myself against the sun’s light (which does me no harm) and the holy powers of hallowed ground (which is no different than any other soil). Now, it was time to discover my strengths. I have found that, at night, when my strength is at its zenith, I am faster than I was as a mortal, though only slightly so. My physical prowess has increased two-fold, though, if I am being honest, I was never very strong when I was alive. I shrug off injuries that could kill most men, as evidenced when I leapt from my tower window the night that the same distance killed Elliot.
I knew there had to be more, though. The beast who granted me these abilities–whose motives, I may add, still escape any kenning–scaled that same distance. I have grown no claws, no apparatus to cling to the sheer walls of my tower. If he made me in his image, as it were, I should have access to this skill. I shall experiment further.
December 4th, 15xx, Later,
I HAVE DONE IT! I have discovered the secret of the Beast’s entrance to my tower, and even now, I can scarcely believe it! In fact, I stumbled on it quite by accident. Allow me to explain–
A couple of hours past midnight, when I was sure no one would stumble on my activities, I took a stroll outside to examine my tower. I had thought that maybe there was some mundane answer to this riddle that I had missed. I stood at the base of the tower, staring up at the window. As my eyesight has grown sharper, I began to focus on the window itself, thinking, perhaps, that my visitor had entered the chamber from above. Even with my enhanced eyesight–again, sharper than it had been before my transformation, but not beyond that of an extremely gifted mortal, I found that I still could not see far enough.
I would not be deterred. I focused harder, squinting, hoping to train my eyes beyond their current acuity. To my surprise, it seemed to work! The stone above my window sharpened into focus, and I could see that…there was noting. No handhold, no way to scale safely down from the roof of the tower.
I gave up this avenue of inquiry. And that’s when I looked down.
I was floating.
I had risen roughly five feet off the ground, and I hung there, in defiance of natural law.
I must process this new knowledge. I shall practice within the confines of my tower, and record the results in these pages.
Chapter three postmortum.
Mechanical considerations and my updated character sheet appear on the next page.