On Vampyres,
by Aethan DeGales, Archmage.

	I do not know how my people began.  Nor do I truly care.  We are,
and that's what matters.  That, and ensuring that we continue to exist for
some time to come.  That latter is why I am preparing this report, so that
agents of this new alliance will not imitate a certain blonde ingenue of
my recent acquaintance and start staking on sight.

	A vampyre is neither, as some have claimed, the quintessential
predator nor a parasitic leech.  Instead, a vampyre is at one and the same
time both.  It is possible for a vampyre to become part of the human
ecosystem -- in which I include its social aspects -- but the vast
majority of the Kindred choose not to do so.

	And thusly doom themselves.  

	By far the most dreadful aspect of our condition is that we are
*dead*.  Only dark magic gives us the potential of continued existance --
and there is a price for all magic, as will have been repeated ad absurdum
in your training.  Part of the price is that our *brains* are dead.  While
we can and do learn from our experiences, just as human beings do, it
becomes easier with each passing day to stop *thinking*; to let the most
common behaviors and actions dominate; to, in essence, run on autopilot.

	What must a vampyre do?  Avoid sunlight, and consume blood.
Everything else becomes secondary, if that, to a vampyre who has fallen
into the trap of not thinking.  And the trap can only be avoided only by
risking discovery -- by engaging in interaction with the living.  That is
one of the greater ironies of our existance -- by attempting to live among
human beings, we gain the ability to prey more efficiently upon them; yet,
if we do not make the attempt, we lose the possibility.  The romantic
image of a vampyre shunning human companionship and preying on livestock
for the love of humanity is a lie; such a creature would be only a little
more than a wolf.

	Vampyres are created through an act of will on the part of a
vampyre.  Having consumed the majority of the blood in a human being, a
mortal is then given the vampyre's own blood.  The result is a vampyre
which has markedly less power than the "sire" (I digress:  I have often
wondered why a female vampyre parent is never called a "dam"; if we're to 
imitate horses, why not go all the way?), but which will not, popular
fiction to the contrary, be under the complete control of his or her
parent.  Under the influence, yes; it is vastly easier for a vampyre's
sire to exert suggestive influence over him or her than for anyone else to
do the same; but the domination is never automatic.  This is largely due
to an empathic link between sire and progeny.  That we can often sense the
danger to our children or our parents is a matter of record -- I myself
have been rescued by both of my progeny on occasions.

	There is, alas, a down side.

	Since we -- by which I mean the members of a bloodline -- share a
certain group consciousness, demonic possession is even more dangerous for
us than it is for mortals.  If a vampyre were to be possessed (our term
for it, showing evidence of voodoo teachings, is `ridden') by a demon, not
only the vampyre himself will be dominated by the demon -- but all the
past and future progeny of the vampyre thus afflicted.  (In theory, the
sire of the possessed vampyre is safe.  There are ways around this.)

	We have a name for these creatures.  We call them Baali.  

	As any student of linguistics will tell you, the word derives from
a Mesopotamian word meaning "lordly".  They view themselves as the natural
rulers of the Kindred -- and for all I know, they may be right.

	It was often thought that the Baali were lost to us forever.
Recently, however, I have discovered that this is not the case, and that
there is a way -- a dangerous way -- by which they may be restored.  (Such
will not redeem their progeny, however.)  I will not divulge it here,
since the specfics are not yet known to me, and what can be done can be
undone.  If you are curious, I suggest that you visit the American state
of California, and look up the young man who described it to me.

	You'll know him when you see him with the blonde ingenue.

	She's his girlfriend.  Harass them for the data.

	Payback, Ms. Summers.

-30-