Van Richten's Guide to Vampires - The Mind of the Vampire

Do vampires fear death? The fiend echoed my question with a laugh. Death? No, we have already died. Then its expression sobered. "Nonexistence? Yes, that we fear above all.
"Think of it from our point of view", the creature proposed in the most reasonable of tones. You, as a human, fear death. But you are - what - fifty? If you were to die today, what would you lose? Twenty years of life, perhaps thirty at the most, and the last decade or more racked with pain and tortured with the humiliation of failing faculties. Bah! Nothing.
The vampire leaned forward, intense, as though it mattered vitally that I understand, that I be convinced. "I, as a vampire, fear nonexistence", it said quietly. 'I have lived ten years for every one of yours. And if I were to be destroyed today, what would I lose? Eternity!"
It slammed an iron-hard fist onto the table. "Thirty years? I could spend thirty years studying a well-written book or a finely-wrought painting. I have time enough to think, to experience the changing of the world".

The monster sat back and viewed me from beneath hooded eyes. "Now", it purred, "do you understand why your deaths" - and I knew it meant the death of mortals - "mean nothing to me?" It paused. "... And mine means everything?"

- From the personal journal of Dr. Van Richten

The logical first step to eliminating a vampire is understanding it, which is probably why you are reading this guide now. Of course it is vital for the successful vampire hunter to acquaint himself with the strengths and weaknesses of the monster in question, and to consider the variations of the theme. Understanding what their mortal vulnerabilities are is obviously prerequisite, as well. But I am of the opinion that understanding the psychology of the vampire is your greatest weapon. Knowing how the creature thinks may give you critical clues as to how and where it will be at its most vulnerable state. It can also save your life if you know what to say (and not to say) in the presence of a vampire.

Philosophically speaking, immortality is probably the greatest difference between mortals and vampires. Mortals know that their time in the world is tightly bound: no matter how long the road may be - and for elves and other such creatures it can be long, indeed - death inescapably waits at the other end. This, of necessity, affects the way mortals view life. "Time is precious", "time is slipping away", "time is fleeting". "time, the subtle thief of youth": these are the proverbs and truisms of mortality. So many facets of (demi)human psychology and philosophy can be understood when viewed through this lens.

It should come as no surprise, then, that the psychology of vampires is very different, in some very profound ways, from that of the mortal races. Having already died, vampires little consider the specter of death as mortal do. Provided that they can avoid accidental destruction or annihilation at the hands of foes, these fiends could theoretically continue to exist to the (hypothetical) end of time!

One must not forget, however, that vampires were once mortal creatures. Although the transition to undeath drastically affects the body, its effects on the mind and on thoughts, beliefs, and philosophies are much less predictable and generally more subtle.

Before discussing the psychology of immortality in more detail, it is necessary to distinguish between the three "classifications" of vampires, based on their origins. The first classification includes those who became vampires because of "deadly desire", like Strahd Von Zarovich. The second comprises those who became vampires as the result of a curse, whether laid by a mortal or by an evil deity. The third and final category is the most numerous: those unfortunates who became vampires as a result of the attack of another vampire.

The first two categories have one major factor in common: in almost all cases, these vampires were evil while they were alive. The transition to undeath never affects this except, in some cases, to intensify their evil.

The final category is a totally different case. Victims of vampires have no commonality with regard to ethos, moral strictures, philosophy of life, care toward others, or any other factor. The victim of a vampire could be a saint or a sinner, a paladin or an assassin, a compassionate healer or a ruthless alley-basher.

The fact is that the vast majority of vampires are chaotic and evil in the extreme. How does this come about? In most cases, it seems, the transition to undeath itself works this grim change on the mentality of a vampire's victim; the Fledgling's previous world view is largely irrelevant.

There are some fascinating exceptions, however, some documented cases of Fledgling vampires that managed to cling to some of the attitudes and beliefs they had while alive - for a time, at least. What set these exceptions apart? Was it, as some sages suggest, a characteristic of the vampire that created them? Or was it something within them? My own theory is this: the victim must have an immense strength of will, and the vampire that killed the victim be prevented in some way from implementing the innate control that such creatures have over "secondary" vampires. (This can happen if the creating vampire leaves the area, or is destroyed, between the time of the victim's death and the night the victim first rises as a vampire.)

Some of the most fascinating examples of this sort of "carry over" were recorded by a sage, whose name has been tragically lost, in a treatise whose title I have borrowed (with thanks) for this chapter: The Mind of the Vampire. Two samples follow:

A young, naive man, raised in a sheltered and privileged family, was slain by a vampire passing through the neighborhood. At first, he was unaware of his true nature (or unwilling to accept it), believing that his death had been only profound sickness and that his "premature" burial had been a mistake by his overzealous family. Evidence of his vampiric nature soon became apparent, however, but the poor wretch was unable to fully renounce the life he left behind. He took to haunting his old home, watching from the darkness and trying to pretend he was at least peripherally part of mortal life. He would seem a totally pathetic figure had it not been for his vicious attacks against anyone who tried to take away from him the semblance of his former life. An intrepid vampire hunter was slain by one of the creatures she so tenaciously hunted: the monster that killed her was immediately destroyed by her colleagues. For whatever reason, these colleagues neglected to take the precautions to prevent the woman from rising as a vampire. The trauma the woman suffered when she realized her vampiric condition was almost - but not quite - enough to drive her mad. She had taken up her life's pursuit as a moral duly, to rid the world of the scourge of vampirism, and now she had become what she had always hated! She set the trauma aside, however, and decided to play out the hand that Fate had dealt her. She dedicated her unlife to continuing the work she had started as a mortal: to use her newfound powers to help her track down and destroy others of her kind. Unfortunately, she soon confused her mission with a quest for power, and was destroyed by Strahd Von Zarovich.

The "typical" vampire is described as having an alignment of Chaotic Evil. There are some philosophers who believe this fact says more about (demi)human perceptions than it does about vampires. Chaotic, holders of this theory point out, means simply that vampires consider their personal interests over those of others, or of the many. While they do not go so far as to condone this stance, they do consider it to be understandable because vampires are immortal. Evil, strictly speaking, is defined as "holding life in low regard. How, these philosophers ask, could a creature be classed otherwise, that must feed on living victims to survive? The point that these philosophers proceed to make in their heavy-handed and pedantic fashion, which I have abbreviated here, is that describing vampires as Chaotic Evil actually conveys very little information about the creatures' behaviors and attitudes.

But this thesis raises a fascinating question: if I set aside the matter of feeding habits, could a vampire exhibit other behavior patterns that could be described as "good"? The answer is "theoretically yes", and I can even cite one short-lived example. A man of good alignment was killed by a vampire, and became a vampire himself under the control of his dark master. When the master vampire was destroyed, the "minion" vampire became free-willed. Even though undead, he still held the beliefs and attitudes that, while alive, had categorized him as Good. Now, in secret, he decided to use his powers to at least partially set right the damage that he and his master had done. In fact, for some decades he was a secret benefactor to his home town.

Unfortunately, things changed with the passage of time. At first, the undead benefactor wanted no thanks, and kept his identity and nature inviolably secret. He lived in a cave on the outskirts of town and saw no living soul. After a decade, however, it seems that he began to resent the fact that the townsfolk showed no signs of gratitude for his largesse. He began to leave behind notes, asking for some kind of "concrete appreciation", generally money, in return for his efforts. (He had no need for the-money, of course: the coins were purely symbolic of the thanks he thought he deserved.) His demands became progressively higher until the townsfolk decided the requests from their secret benefactor were too great. When they ceased to pay, the vampire's feelings towards the townsfolk turned to hatred and he fell upon them like a scourge until some intrepid adventurers destroyed him.

I have a theory that explains what happened in this example. Eternity is a long time. As the years passed, the vampire's feelings began to change. Slowly he lost his sense of kinship with the living, and put his own desires, even when those desires were somewhat irrational, before theirs. Finally, he came to believe that their very fates were petty things, unworthy of his consideration.

I strongly believe that this attitude shift happens, in time, to all vampires. With some individuals, it occurs almost instantly, while with others it may take decades. Although I have no firm evidence on which to base this conjecture, I would guess that no vampire can retain a nature other than one of Chaotic Evil beyond the Fledgling age category.

Most vampires are unique personalities, as are mortal (demi)humans. Individual (demi)humans may go through a "psychological progression", themselves. Commonly, the young of all (demi)human races are rather foolhardy, simply because the concept of death has yet to become real to them. They then enter a stage of experimentation, but usually temper their curiosity with at least some caution. This is followed by a period of more conservative activity, particularly if they are starting a family.

Then, as the first chill winds of mortality begin to blow through the soul, they will often temporarily relive the wild and joyous exuberance of youth. When this phase has passed, they frequently return to conservative pursuits. And finally, in the twilight of their years, they become introspective, trying to extract the underlying meaning of their lives. Certainly (demi)humans are individuals, but still a substantial number of them pass through most if not all of these stages.

Why, then, should it be surprising that vampires also show a psychological progression? Certainly, the stages are somewhat different and the time scale involved is vastly changed, but in the "life" of even the most individualistic vampire, at the very least an echo of this progression can be detected.

The first stage is usually characterized by the creature feeling a dark joy in its new powers. It is overwhelmed by the sense of power engendered by its strength and its supernatural resilience. Newly-formed vampires will often assume animal form for the pure and simple-minded joy of flitting as bat over the forests of the night or running, seeming tireless, with a pack of wolves. Some of the creatures gain great satisfaction from testing the limits of their powers, often for the sheer joy of the experience, even if its actual exploits are basically meaningless in the grand scheme of things. (There are recurring rumors that could be interpreted as examples of vampiric "pranks" - trivial events that nevertheless required great strength or other supernormal abilities.) This experimental stage of a vampire's unlife is usually over quite quickly. Some vampires go through this phase in a few weeks or months while others continue for more than a year.

The first attitude shift usually begins when a vampire comes to recognize it is not in fact invulnerable. This can occur through stupidity, as when a Fledgling chooses an inappropriate sanctuary and is burned by the sunlight. More frequently it comes when a vampire in its foolish revels has attracted unwanted attention, and the first vampire hunters come after it.

The first party of hunters represents a turning point for the vampire. For the first time it cannot ignore the fact that there are those in the world who would like nothing more than to destroy the "blood-sucking fiend". It hardly seems to matter whether this first group of attackers actually manages to harm the vampire or not. The simple fact of their assault triggers the change because it forces the vampire to fight to defend itself, in many cases this is the first time the new vampire kills (demi)humans. The vampire will usually draw two conclusions from this event. The first is that some (demi)humans wanted to destroy it, and thus all (demi)humans are potential foes. The second is that the vampire is a phenomenal fighter, a virtual killing machine.

These two conclusions generally trigger the next phase. During this stage, many vampires become rampaging fiends, killing for the pure joy of it, sometimes feeding from several victims in one night, even after they are totally sated. Vampires will often create their first "servitor" vampires during this phase, before they realize the consequences of their actions. This phase can last for several years, and in some vampires it never ends until the creature is destroyed. For most creatures, however, this stage will last no more than twenty years.

Usually the next stage is one of boredom. The "innocent" joy the creature derived from exercising its powers is gone as the monster becomes accustomed to those powers. Even the thrill of the hunt frequently begins to pall after a decade or two. In short, the prospect of an eternity of unlife becomes bleak when all the creature has to look forward to is its next kill. There is also a great sense of loneliness.

At this point, vampires typically diverge into two groups. There are some who try to interact once more with (demi)human society in one way or another. With varying degrees of success, these creatures will try to take on the mask of mortality, to "play the grand facade", to borrow a phrase once used by a vampire (I will discuss this concept at length, later). If the creature fails in its first attempt to "assimilate", it will rarely try again. If it enjoys some measure of success, however, this is usually the path the monster will follow for the rest of its existence. It will become one of the "shadow people" (to use another vampire term), always existing more or less on the periphery of (demi)human society, moving through it when necessary, and secretly preying upon it.

Vampires who decide against dabbling in society, or those who fail in their first attempt, usually deal with the boredom and loneliness in a more destructive way. To add interest to their bleak existence, they often escalate in cruelty. Rather than killing one person, they kill a caravan of merchants. Rather than terrorizing a small village, they bully an entire county. Creatures in this phase often put much energy and imagination into new ways to spread destruction over the land. Obviously this phase is most likely to attract the attention of vampire hunters. Conspicuous behavior coupled with relative weakness has spelled the destruction of many vampires during this stage. For one reason or another, vampires rarely continue in this mode of mass destruction beyond the transition to the Mature age category (Either they "grow out of it", or are destroyed.)

One definition of "maturity" in (demi)humans is the ability to emotionally accept one's mortality. Conversely, in vampires, one definition of maturity might be to emotionally understand the consequences of immortality. Usually after about 100 years of existence, vampires will come to realize that they could truly never cease to exist... if they are careful. At this stage vampires come to realize, sometimes for the first time, just what they have to lose.

This brings about several changes. The most noticeable is that the conspicuous destruction of the preceding phase comes to an end. The creature recognizes how much of a risk this behavior represents. Not only will it eventually bring down upon it the vengeance of an individual or group powerful enough to destroy it, but it might also stumble upon such a group or individual in one of its violent forays, and thus hasten its doom.

The second change is that the vampire will start to take more precautions to protect itself. It is usually at this stage that vampires begin to set up multiple sanctuaries for themselves, all hidden and warded to the best of the creature's (considerable) abilities. If it lives in the wilderness it will seek out and summon animals and monsters to serve as guardians (and food sources in times of dearth). If it is "playing the facade" it will hire and charm guardians, and begin to establish layers of protection around itself. Vampires at this stage may consider creating servitor vampires, but will be very careful to keep them under complete control to ensure that the servitors do not attract unwanted attention, and to destroy them before they grow powerful enough to challenge their master.

Security, to be worth anything, must be security against all dangers, and perhaps the greatest danger to a vampire is boredom. Thus at this stage, vampires will often go to great lengths to ensure that they have diversions open to them. They may engage in physical activities, either in human or animal form, such as hunting purely for pleasure. They may surround themselves with things of beauty. As their intelligence grows sharper with age, they may entertain themselves by learning new languages, and by working their way through the libraries of humanity. So great may be their need for company and companionship that they create a "groom" or "bride" - a vampire with which they have an intense bond and kinship ("Grooms" and "brides" are discussed in Chapter Ten, Relationships Between Vampires.)

This stage of maturity can last for several centuries, indeed, many vampires never progress beyond it. For them, security and sources of diversion are all they need.

For other vampires, however, these two factors are required, but not sufficient. They need something more. This 'something more' is often found in a hunger for power. This is something of an echo of the earlier stage where they tried to spread their range of destruction over larger and larger areas. Now, however, it is their sphere of influence that they wish to expand.

The nature of this sphere of influence depends on the personality of the vampire. The most obvious manifestation of power hunger is the desire to rule, but a vampire king is soon faced with a quandary: what do the people of the land think when their king has ruled for fifty years? One hundred? One thousand? Sooner or later, the vampire's true nature will be revealed.

Therefore, I surmise that most vampires in this ambitious psychological stage cither put a mortal "figurehead " on the throne while they rule from behind the scene, or they participate in a more insidious manifestation of power hunger: in the vast majority of societies, rulers can come and go - even despots and tyrants - and "power brokers", the buyers and sellers of information and favors, retain their places of power (and their heads) regardless of law or morality. I am sure it is in this shadowy stratum of society that those vampires prefer to operate.

Still other vampires display their hunger for power through a fixation with the magical arts. Those that were wizards (or even priests) in life will sometimes pursue their magical endeavors in unlife. With immortality, a vampire can amass a treasure trove of old tomes, laboratory equipment, and magical items. But even more valuable is the time they can dedicate to their studies. If a particularly powerful spell will take ninety years of research, what of it? A vampire has eternity to invest in the results that it desires.

I believe this cannot be over-stressed! Vampires capable of casting spells have literally unlimited time in which to research and develop new or "customized" versions of familiar spells. The nature of these idiosyncratic abilities depends on the vampire's personality. One thing is certain, however: those who would hunt a spellcasting vampire - even one "only" several centuries of age - should be prepared to face magic of a nature and lethality that can hardly be imagined by mortal mages.

Many humans and demihumans become "arrested" at particular stages of their psychological development - so, too, do vampires. Other events can later reverse this "arrested development". For this reason, there is no direct correlation between the psychological stages discussed above and age category. Particularly intuitive vampires might progress to the stage of power hunger within a mere century or two; others might never even reach this phase. As a general statement, however, a vampire who manages to achieve the age of Patriarch will have reached the pinnacle of psychological development.

"Mortals are cattle", the vampire said without animosity. "You supply us with food, primarily, but with much more as well. You are our tools, you ephemeral, posturing fools. We use you as pawns in our ongoing plans". The creature leaned forward to fix me with its icy stare. "That is the only significance to your existence: you serve us".

One consideration that does not seem to correlate with a particular phase of a vampire's psychological development is ego. Virtually from the outset, a vampire will have an exceptionally strong ego and sense of self-importance. A major consequence of this is the belief that mortals are basically unimportant. Should a mortal - hence, an "insignificant creature" - challenge it in any meaningful way, a vampire is very likely to respond with disbelieving fury and overwhelming vengeance. For this reason, among others, injuring a vampire is a dangerous thing. One should destroy the creature or not challenge it at all! There is a positive aspect to this inflated ego, however: vampires will frequently underestimate the risk that mortals pose, believing that the "obvious superiority" of immortals to such ephemeral creatures means that all mortals are incapable of harming it. A wily vampire hunter can sometimes play upon this overconfidence.

Throughout the "life" of a vampire, there is always a grave risk of insanity. Perhaps it is the enforced separation from the community of mortals that unseats the creature's reason, or perhaps it is the prospect of the eternity that stretches before them. Perhaps it has a more physiological reason, based on the changes that occur in the brain on transition to undeath. Whatever the reason, a significant proportion of vampires become insane.

Sometimes the transition from sanity to insanity is hard to spot. As a result of the creatures' immortality, they will often engage in plans that might take centuries to reach fruition. The creatures' day-to-day actions, when viewed without the long view of immortality, might make little or no sense. The transition to insanity is insidious, subtly more complicated as the vampire engages in more and more intricate plans - "wheels within wheels within wheels", to quote one vampire - and more labyrinthine plotting. Eventually the creature's day-to-day actions make no sense to the creature itself, but it follows through with them anyway.

In other cases, the transition to insanity is more obvious. As the vampire grows older its behavior becomes more psychotic, more paranoid as it begins to grow tired of its way of life. The tiny part of it that is still mortal yearns tenaciously for the things it had in life, while the part of it that is a vampire scorns those pleasures of the flesh. Eventually, the strain of the creature's dualistic nature becomes too great. Soon after, the vampire becomes subject to fits of rage and insane behavior.

This easily identified kind of vampiric insanity will usually draw unwanted attention and eventually destruction upon the vampire. If the insane individual is the minion of a more powerful creature, the master vampire will almost always destroy the servitor at this point. In a similar vein I have heard that, in a far-away city, there were three vampires who had totally integrated themselves into the upper crust of society. These creatures were renowned businessmen, patrons of the arts, and even ex officio members of the city council. Unfortunately, one of the creatures went insane. In order to protect their own positions, the other two immediately destroyed it.