A Vampir I am, cursed by the gods and devoid of life. My soul have long departed, now unnatural blood course through my veins. Where my soul lies, I cared once, but the dreams I have in my granite resting place, each day for six centuries, are of sweet memories; my homeland, a village in Austelande that have since felt the fire of cruel Men, and I hear the music of widows who weep for their fallen husbands; my Father, a red-cheeked pageboy I was when Count von Karsteine have come for me, though undeath hath now aged me, and the experience of that moment I relive after every drop of blood warm my cold lips; the Plains of Death, from whither the spirit have come and I thirst for the vitae of mortals because of it; and last, the sweet memories of those I have taken. I grow weary at last in my immortal undeath. The Gospodars have prepare my carriage and the boxes of my beloved Austelande have been taken to Altdorf. When the cock crows on Kaldezeit and the first day of winter, I at last leave Praag for a better un-life.

From the journal of 'The Vampire of Praag'