So You Want to Be a Vampire - Matthew's Cheat Sheet to Vampirism

Disclaimer:
There are many varieties of supernatural beings that prey upon humans, and many among these that are obliged to confine themselves to blood. I describe only what I am, and what my sire is.

To Make One:
A dying human must drink blood from one of us (a single mouthful will do), and must not only want to live but be of strong will in desiring so. They may otherwise die or run mad as a ghoul, a savage creature with our form and thirst but no cunning at all. A responsible sire would kill it. The change will take a few hours to set in, as their mortal wounds heal and their bones ache with new knowledge; within the first two hours you will know whether they have kept their mind or lost it.

Powers:

• Enhanced strength and speed; even as a neophyte, no normal unarmed human should pose any threat at all. I never set out to measure any of this, but I do know we grow stronger and faster with the years.
• Enhanced durability and healing. My skin doesn't feel different from human skin, nor do my bones weigh more, but it is difficult to scrape or scratch my skin, and my bones are hard to break; should it happen, the scratch is gone in minutes, and the bone mended within hours. At my most extensively injured without losing any parts, I was well again in about 12 hours (but desperately hungry). Regrowing teeth or toes is also possible, but takes much longer. I haven't found out what happens to arms and legs. Our hearts still beat and lungs draw air without thought, but we don't actually need the pulse or oxygen anymore; getting stabbed is just annoyingly agonising and makes us lose blood.
• Immortality - never grow old. Probably part of the healing. Also, memory and recall are a lot sharper. Except for your human memories; those fade alarmingly quickly. Instincts package (to crave blood, to always know where veins are, to avoid more powerful supernatural beings) can be alarming to newborns.
• Enhanced senses. Improved night vision (this shows; our eyes reflect light like cat eyes), sharper hearing and sense of smell. Other, more distinctly inhuman facets develop over time; I have a peculiarly good sense for blood, of the beings containing it, of the power within the blood, and how close by it is.
• Extremely minor shapeshifting - our hands can turn into claws, our jaws and teeth lengthen, all to rip and tear, in a clear distortion of the human form we otherwise wear at all times. Neophytes simply shift as they attack and feed; I have long since mastered myself, and can feed without so much as longer fingernails, or flash sharper teeth for but a moment.

Weaknesses:

• We live on blood. Animal, human, donated in a bag, fresh from the vein, dribbled from a dozen rats - blood it must be. A decent meal every two days, on average; more if you mean to get stronger more quickly, as little as a bowl a week if you can control yourself and keep exercise to a minimum.
• Being starved of blood can send us into a state of torpor, from which we only waken when blood is very close at hand. (Inducing torpor in yourself and choosing your waking moment is possible, but takes practice.)
• Silver and gold burn our skin, and injuries inflicted by them heal at mortal speed.
• Decapitation. Or disintegration. No silver needed, dead is dead. General disembowelment and dismemberment works, but kills more slowly.

Notes:

• Probably can develop individual potential over time. Haven hits twice as hard as her brother, even though they were turned at the same time.
• We look human and talk human and walk human, but. Some might say it's your heart or soul that matters, and it's true there are plenty of humans who hadn't the slightest drop of any magic and were still monsters in the flesh, but.
• We don't have secret vampire societies that I know of. There might be individual 'lords', who made their positions with their power and reputation, but mostly we don't usually get on all that well with each other.

If his ability to be a threat to everyone else is a concern, that's because he's meant to be so very, very powerful and dangerous XD. What keeps him in check, aside from the usual threats of a battalion of angels come to vanquish evil, would be his own nature (and my desire for a good story)(and his desire for a good story, too)(and that I intend him as an NPC, obviously). He's emphatically not the go-forth-and-conquer kind; he's the equivalent of the witch in the hut you make questionable deals with, whom you would never ever cross because God only knows what might happen.

Revek (from Solus' sheet) might be related to Mr Sharp here. Apprentice? Offspring? Wannabe rival?

Matthew got Contempt from him. No, Matthew is not going to talk about what he paid.

---

Name: The King of Swords / The Smith / Mr Vulcan Sharp / etc.

Age: A construct and a number. Very, very old. Time abyss.

Gender: Male, most of the time.

Race: Demon

Sub-Class: Hellion. Demon lord. Fae. Shapechanger. Iron-kissed.

Description: Humans, if they meet him at all, see a middle-aged man with worn, calloused brown hands and night-black eyes. He might be behind the counter of an antiques shop, or dining alone in a restaurant so prestigious the bill for each meal is more than the entire monthly salaries of some people. His clothes are not nearly as notable as the accessories glinting on his person - one of those watches all of silver, with even the band made of thick links of metal; fine chains around his neck, tucked down his shirt, or perhaps one bears a pendant of an iridescent gem; studs in his earlobes; a filigree pin upon his lapel. The effect is of an exceedingly wealthy eccentric. The look in his eye discourages curious questions.

For those with whom he is open to the idea of doing business, Mr Sharp is blunt with his words, but seemingly genial. His face is dark, craggy and harsh; not at all what one might say is conventionally attractive. His clothes are worn, sooty work gear, complete with leather apron and tough boots, though metal still gleams at his throat and from his pockets and perhaps even piercings in skin. He may limp as he walks, as if his legs aren't quite right; come to think it, his eyes are misaligned, his nose crooked - but those broad shoulders and bony-knuckled hands seem like they might crush the life from you with ease anyway.

He always speaks the truth; perhaps not the truth entire, and not clarified for the listener, but it is always the truth. His word is his bond. Whether this is a law he cannot break, or a choice he has kept to, only he knows, but so it is. What this usually means is that if he states that he will kill you unless you show some respect, rest assured it is no idle threat. The King of Swords makes no idle statements; he can be alarmingly mercurial in his mood, from whimsical cheer to the pedantic comprehensiveness of a lawyer, from cold fury to unmoving stoicness, but take nothing he says lightly.

Most importantly, mistake none of this for human morality or common decency. He does not feel mercy, only a curiosity towards your behaviour which he chooses to indulge. He is interested in humanity; your pain will do as well as your pleasure. He may even be emotionally invested concerning particularly intriguing individuals; do not expect that he will give without taking, that he will value you as more than a pretty bauble, or that you will linger in the memories of this great immortal as more than a pebble upon a long winding coast. He may remember each and every stone upon that rocky beach, but do not hope for more than that. He would be disappointed with your foolishness.

Affairs: His history does not matter; it is by and large well beyond mortal ken, irrelevant to the current day and age, not to mention none of your business. A selection of notable facts, instead.

He has a brother. One much more inclined to politics, to wealth and human economics, to power and its maintenance. They do not like each other, but they have a mutual understanding; each has use for the other, each has not yet had a reason to turn upon the other, and each finds that they like others even less than they do their sibling. As demonic familial relationships go, it's positively heartwarming.

His personal interests are challenging projects and interesting people. The opportunities to feed his appetite - a portion of the essence of any being killed by metal he has charmed, or those bargained away to him - is an enjoyable side benefit. He deals in information and favours as well as his metalcraft, though he much prefers the latter to the former two. Souls in trade are so last-season; he likes irony, and setting the kind of price men willingly accept, even for what they hoped never to sell.

What has drawn him to visit Loom? He's hoping to answer that question, himself. One of the likely answers might involve a particular half-born he's dealt with before.

Abilities/Skills: The King of Swords, as befits his preferred title, is known first and foremost for his skill at forging exceptional blades. He can imbue a weapon created by his own hand with powerful enchantments and horrid afflictions, and any such sword or dagger is a perfectly balanced, ever-sharp and nigh-indestructible killing tool, not to mention beautiful to look upon, if he so desires.

There is a catch, of course. There always are. Especially when one is of the broad and ill-defined category of demonkind known as fae, who if they have only one thing in common, have in common an appetite for that which they can win away by bargain or trickery.

He does his best work when it is for another, as part of a deal struck. There are other concerns; he can make a sword by simply taking a lump of steel and shaping it with his will, but such careless use of essence can tire even a power such as him. It is better to smelt the ore and forge the blade by more mundane means, saving his attention and strength for working gifts into the metal. And of course, it doesn't have to be a weapon; he is a smith of unparalleled skill, who can work any metal, to any end, given the time, material and incentive. So few people think to ask for something more inspiring.

His knowledge of metals, of course, is without equal. Their physical and magical properties, the places they may be found and the value assigned them by humans, by angels and demons. The traces of metals in the earth hum to him, and the nails and screws in the walls sing; he can pinpoint each and every piece in any given building teeming with men, down to the coins in their pockets, and then if he wished he could collapse the building upon them.

As part of his powers, naturally, the Lord of the Forge is immune to the burning touch of silver and gold that plagues so many of Hell's denizens. Fire and heat cannot harm him either. What he is susceptible to are the protective plants, the woods and herbs of warding efficacy - rowan, rosemary, St. John's wort, and so on. Weave your charms of protection with vine and cloth, and bring no metal on your person.

Less well-known, but still not the most well-hidden of knowledge, is his nature as a shapeshifter. The Smith takes on the form he needs so that he may craft as he wishes, or to present the right face to the right individual; he is confined to a humanoid structure, but the details sometimes leave a great deal to be desired, if one desires anatomical accuracy or consistency. And this is of course a choice; he could appear handsome, even stunningly beautiful, if he wished (he does not wish). Neither is he is in the habit of taking a shape which is sharp of tooth and quick to battle, but it is not beyond him.

And in addition to all this, the King of Swords is a demon lord - he is old as the archangels, with all the experience and cunning to match; he can command the service of a multitude, who give him their souls in exchange for secrets of the forge, or weapons which are proof against their own foes; he is mighty enough to be a plausible contender for the throne of Hell, had he any interest.

Notable Belongings: Easier to ask what he doesn't own. He does not own the world, no country nor notable territory. He does not own any sentient being, though quite a few people may protest otherwise, for he owns things they hold so dearly that the distinction is merely academic. There are a great many items of power out there which he wishes he owns (and many more that he does).

For the immediate situation, he owns an elegant penthouse apartment in a very exclusive condominium in an exclusive neighbourhood, a very nice limousine, a motley assortment of staff, and far too much metal.