Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Manifesto Cyrodiil Vampyrum

To you whom We have seen
Stalking at night by eyes keen
Transcendant of savages
Sating thirst sans avarice
Your coffers stay stuffed
By social graces robust
None know your nature;
save Us
None share your fate;
save Us
None welcome you as kin;
save Us


On Our Order:
Know first that we are no simple tribe of savages, tearing throats with the orgiastic abandon of our scattered, tribal brethren. Ours is a civil fraternity, to which we are bound - every one - by our dual hunger for flesh and influence. By the virtue of Imperial structure and bureaucracy, Cyrodiil has become our stronghold in the third era, and we suffer no savage rivals within our boundaries, reveal ourselves to none, and manipulate the hand of society to mete out our agendas.

On Our Dual Patrons:
To Kin-father Molag Bal, who brought forth the Bloodmatron Lamae to spite Arkay, we owe our existence, as do all vampires, though not all honor Him. For him we revel in the feast, and acknowledge the gift adrift in our veins.

To patron Clavicus Vile, beacon o’er our affairs, we owe our successes and social stature. Our bond with Vile makes us unique among our kind, for his guidance steels our savage craving with reason and savvy. For him we live amidst mankind, and twist them to our will from offices of power.

On Our Rivals:
Most barbaric tribes think themselves powerful by the gift of Bal’s blood alone, and squander the gift. There are those, however, who show signs of enlightenments, and earn our attention - those such as the Glenmoril Wyrd, who live within the walls of Breton cities, or the Whet-Fang sodality of Black Marsh, who use magicka to keep captives catatonic and harvest from them the red nectar. These foes may one day threaten to impugn our sovereignty within the boundaries of Cyrodiil, thus compelling our vigilance. Should any encroach upon our dominion, our wrath must be swift and total.

On Our Conduct:
To preserve our ideals and way of life, two primary edicts shall be observed. Above all, reveal thyself and our Order to no other, for discretion is the greatest of our virtues. Do not feed where you may be found out, or on those who may suspect your passing. Avoid daylight by lifestyle; dispel common belief in our kind, and maintain supple appearance through satisfaction of the thirst. Second, devote your pursuits to the procurement of influence, political and otherwise. Our strength is not in physical numbers, but in skillful manipulation of society. Always be mindful of our Patrons, and preserve the Order. Devote yourself to these ideals always, and the Order shall count you amongst our own.

Opusculus Lamae Bal ta Mezzamortie



Opusculus Lamae Bal ta Mezzamortie
A brief account of Lamae Bal and the Restless Death

Mabei Aywenil, Scribe
Translation by University of Gwylim Press; 3E 105

As brighter grows light, darker becomes shadow. So it passed that the Daedra Molag Bal looked on Arkay and thought the Aedra prideful of his dominion o’er the death of man and mer, and it was sooth.

Bal, whose sphere is the wanton oppression and entrapment of mortal souls, sought to thwart Arkay, who knew that not man, nor mer, nor beastfolk of all Nirn could escape eventual death. The Aedra was doubtless of his sphere, and so Molag Bal set upon Nirn to best death.

Tamriel was still young, and filled with danger and wondrous magick when Bal walked in the aspect of a man and took a virgin, Lamae Beolfag, from the Nedic Peoples. Savage and loveless, Bal profaned her body, and her screams became the Shrieking Winds, which still haunt certain winding fjords of Skyrim. Shedding a lone droplet of blood on her brow, Bal left Nirn, having sown his wrath.

Violated and comatose, Lamae was found by nomads, and cared for. A fortnight hence, the nomad wyrd-woman enshrouded Lamae in pall for she had passed into death. In their way, the nomads built a bonfire to immolate the husk. That night, Lamae rose from her funeral pyre, and set upon the coven, still aflame. She ripped the throats of the women, ate the eyes of the children, and raped their men as cruelly as Bal had ravished her.

And so; Lamae, (who is known to us as blood-matron) imprecated her foul aspect upon the folk of Tamriel, and begat a brood of countless abominations, from which came the vampires, most cunning of the night-horrors. And so was the scourge of undeath wrought upon Tamriel, cruelly mocking Arkay’s rhythm of life and death through all the coming eras of the et’Ada, and for all his sadness, Arkay knew this could not be undone.