A More Literary RItual

[Macaria]

Since I came here, I’ve been searching after every piece of arcane knowledge I heard mention of. As a mortal, I was only ever interested in the occult in an academic sense. The weight of history that lay upon it, and yet it was still remembered despite its clear lack of basis in fact. That simple departure from what would appear to be logic fascinated me, causing me to search out increasingly more obscure tomes and scraps of writing. I still, though, did not think much of it. It was clearly all superstition or the ravings of an unbalanced mind. None of the things described in what I had read could possibly be true, after all. Such a thing would be madness. There was no such thing as the supernatural. Until, of course, I was enlightened to the true way of the world. The supernatural is very real, and I am now a supernatural being. The defining parameters of my life are radically shifted from their starting position. Indeed, one might even be correct in stating that my ‘life’ came to an end, and that I was reborn into a new state of enlightenment.

I find that my once academic interest is now an obsession. Indeed, I have spent the first week of my new way of life holed up in an abandoned building in an area referred to as the ‘Quarantine Zone’, learning the most basic of the spells available to me. It is true that that rather kept me from participating in what others seem to consider important, but I hardly care about that. Which is more important? Knowledge or having ‘friends’. The answer is obvious. Anything less would be to not fully utilise this new span of life I have been gifted. There will be plenty of time for banal social interactions once I have completed my studies.

For now, though, I find myself in need to rest and recuperation. During a failed attempt at a ritual, the summoned demi-fae broke free and inflicted an unpleasant stomach wound on me. It has since healed, but in the meantime I found myself lax in the paying of attention and was caught in the open by a fae while I was searching for wild flowers. The encounter, though brief, left me with an incredibly nasty cut in my leg, and it also left me feeling utterly drained. Which, I think, has probably contributed to the need to my writing today. There is very little one is able to do when unable to walk too far, and when one lacks the energy to do so anyway. Indeed, it is all I can do to keep the pen in hand. I shall see how I feel in a few days and take it from there.

Zl onax onynapr arrqf gb vapernfr, ubjrire, nf qbrf zl fxvyy jvgu n oynqr - fb tngurevat mbzovr rnef naq bgure vaterqvragf vf rnfvre. V pna fryy zl evghny novyvgvrf sbe gur bar, ohg gur bgure jvyy arrq gb jnvg hagvy V nz zlfrys ntnva.


OOC note: That end bit isn't gibberish for the RPP gain, it's a fairly simple ROT13 cipher. Decoders can be found online.

[Macaria]

Having spent the last thirty-six hours resting and regaining my strength, I finally found myself able to return to the Corvidae Flats area within the Quarantine Zone. I am still not moving quite as freely as I would like, and I am considerably less agile than before. Still, I apparently have an exponentially improved ability to heal myself, so with a little bit of luck I should be back to my usual self before too long. In the meantime, I do believe I shall be remaining in as close a proximity to the flats as I can, thus maximising my slaying potential whilst minimising my need to move around. To that end, I also aquired a combat shotgun for myself. Whilst enjoyable, using my blades requires a level of grace I simply cannot muster at present. Shotguns, however, are the ultimate blunt instrument - Point, squeeze the trigger, watch everything in front of you disappear. It hardly possesses the level of precision that I generally prefer, but one can hardly argue that it is not effective. I have also discovered my powers, recently, and how useful they can be whilst hunting and I am rather intrigued to see what else I might find myself able to do in the future. Definitely would bear further research.

I suppose I should also use this time to get to know what is apparently my new family. My other abilities may be severely compromised, courtesy of that infernal fae, but I am still perfectly able to communicate. It would, no doubt, be rather beneficial to have a few more contacts around town. At the very least, I would most likely be able to procure more ingredients for my research into rituals, and that can only be considered as a good thing. More than that, some of them might actually be decent people and worth knowing for their own sake, and that would also be rather pleasant, I feel. Having never really had a family to speak of, it might be nice to do things properly in this my new life. I have heard that my sire’s sire is quite the personality within the city, perhaps I should start with her. Until I can make that happen, however, I should probably return to zombie slaying. It’s quite enjoyable, after all, in its own way.

Gur nobir univat orra fnvq, zl onax nppbhag gbbx dhvgr n uvg jura V chepunfrq zl fubgtha. Guvf jvyy cebonoyl unir na rssrpg ba zl novyvgl gb cresbez evghnyf, ohg pheeragyl gung vf gur yrnfg bs zl jbeevrf. V arrq gb vapernfr va cbjre fb gung guvf qbrf abg unccra ntnva. Cbjre vf gehyl gur bayl zrnfher ol juvpu jr pna rire xabj bhefryirf, naq pheeragyl V qb abg cbffrff rabhtu bs vg. Va gvzr, V funyy.

OOC note: More ROT13.

[Macaria]

My leg is still giving me trouble following my encounter with that blasted fae. From what little I was able to glean from my reading, I estimate that I have roughly another three or four days, roughly, until I am fully healed. Until that point, I suppose I shall just have to make do with what I have, and get on with my daily business. If it is at all possible to refer to the mass slaughter of zombies as ‘business’. I find it is far too enjoyable for such a title, though would not go so far as to call it a hobby. It has provided me with an opportunity, though not a particularly lucrative one, for making myself some money by selling surplus zombie ears. Whilst I am perfectly aware that they are needed for my ritualistic pursuits, I find myself close to overflowing with the things. To not take the opportunity to make a few bucks from them would be verging on insanity. Also, I’m fairly sure I would not be able to carry the sheer weight of them, considering I spend essentially the entire night killing zombies.

It is a sad realisation that I need to improve my physical capabilities before I can move forwards with my calling. My powers are currently at such a low level that I find myself unable to build on my abilities with them alone as my occupation, and I must supplement them with more brutish exertions. I cannot really complain, however. The decor is pleasant and the seats are soft. I would prefer to have a more personal place to rest my head, but all things must come in time. And with time will come the funding I need to purchase such a thing. It is simply a matter of patience, as difficult as it may be to have such a thing when I want power now. Just another thing I am forced to contend with as I ascend. Still, with each day that passes I feel my power growing in some small way, and that can only be considered a good thing, to my mind. Power, when it finally comes down to it, is always power. The flavour is merely different in some cases. Perhaps, in time, my current leanings will no longer taste as ash.

I should, I think, see if I am able to procure more tomes for my personal use, thus augmenting my library. Though unable to implement the rituals within, at current, I am more than able to peruse them at my leisure and thus gain whatever knowledge they have to offer. Perhaps it might even aid my future endeavours if I were to do such a thing, even, as I may well be able to grow familiar with their texts before ever needing to use them in a practical sense. I fail to see how that would be a problem. Indeed, the only obstacle barring my path is the small matter of the cost of the things. It has become apparent, clearly so, that the most difficult aspect of this my new life is the gaining and consolidating of funds. I imagine, however, that in time this particular mountain shall become no more than an irritation.

I fervently wish that day would hurry up and arrive.

[Macaria]

Due to my recent injury, and the need I felt to concentrate on my healing, I have not been updating this opus as often as I would like to. More important things simply had to take prime position in my nightly activities. Now, though, that my leg is fully healed I feel that it is time to begin to continue updating my fledgling journal with my thoughts and experiences. It is also remarkably easier to walk, let alone train, now that I am restored to full health. Not that my break was a waste of time, of course. I have used that time wisely, reading everything I could get my hands on in order that I might better understand my current, new, conditions of existence. I have spent a considerable amount of time ‘lurking’ on the internet, especially a section of it referred to in this city as ‘CrowNet’. I, as yet, still do not fully understand it all, entirely, but it appears that keeping the existence of our kind, which is to say vampires, secret from the mortal population of the city is of the gravest consequence. Indeed, there are groups that seem to do nothing but enforce this ruling with nothing short of fanatical abandon. They have, though, been notably quiet of late judging by the lack of complaining that usually, it would seem from CrowNet, accompanies their excursions. Oddly, they seem to use an owl as their symbol. I should ask someone about the significance of that, as beyond an ability to rotate its head through almost three hundred and sixty degrees I have absolutely no idea how it is that a small, fluffy, avian creature would inspire fear in the hearts of our kindred. This city is a strange place.


I am also a little distressed to note that my one contact in the city beyond the very kind woman who gifted me my collection of tomes, my sire Shan, appears to have, well, to have disappeared from its streets. This, I suppose, could be considered both a negative and a positive. On the one hand, it is a shame that someone I would have liked to get to know better, a lodestone, if you will, in this city I am now forced to reside in has seemingly deserted it, thus bringing an abrupt halt to any plans I may have once had towards that end, it might also be considered a good chance to learn how to survive on my own. It is about time, after all, that I learned to provide for myself more fully than I have been, rather than relying upon the kindness of strangers for my daily bread, as it were. Which, I suppose, makes my recent training in the gladiatorial arts that much more important, and something that I should most certainly continue with. In order to keep up with my practice of rituals, I need ingredients. And in order to get them cheaply, as opposed to paying through the nose for them, I need to be able to either find them quickly, or be able to defeat the various creatures or people which carry them. Which, as I am rapidly finding out, is no easy task. Having discovered both the Mausoleum, and that it has been cordoned off by the military, I decided that this was probably a place that was worth having a look inside. After all, if the humans of Harper Rock were worried by it, it most likely had something to do with my kind. Or, at the very least, something supernatural.

After scouting around for a while, I determined that the only entrance to the building was via the sewers, distasteful as that may be. It took me a little while to find an entrance to them, unfamiliar as I am with the geography of the city outside of the quarantine zone - another thing I need to learn more about, in truth - and it only got worse from there on in. Following what seemed like days of aimless wandering, I eventually stumbled across an entrance to the catacombs beneath the mausoleum. It then took still more aimless wandering, with the welcome diversion of a different type of zombie to kill, until I found the entrance to the mausoleum itself. Once that had been done, however, I quickly made myself at home and have hardly left since. Due to the advancement of my necromantic powers, I find that I am now able to replenish my lost blood with some form of innate spell, which has both saved me from leaving the place (and thus needing to find it again) and has the added bonus of helping me preserve precious energy so that I might commence another genocide on the zombie population. It would seem, however, that these particular zombies are considerably more resilient than their cousins in the quarantine zone, and I regularly find myself being required to beat a hasty retreat. There will come a day, however, when this will not be the case and my vengeance for such indignity shall be swift and uncompromising.

In the breaks between killing, not to mention my extended sabbatical due to injury, I have given some thought to what I might like to do as an occupation, now that I am here and have resigned myself to the permanency of my residence. I am still a little unclear on the specifics of it, but I do think I would enjoy something in the lines of a shop providing the residents of the city with ritual ingredients. Perhaps even offering my own services to people as required. Of course, such a thing will need to wait until I am a little better situated - I have yet to find myself an apartment I can afford - and, more than that, I shall need to improve greatly as regards rituals. And, obviously, I shall need to find myself some start up funding as well. Still, having something to work towards, I feel, is hardly ever a bad thing.