As his worry dwelled, dire thoughts surfaced within Prospero’s mind. He hadn’t missed it - that small but horrifying reveal which had crossed his eyes not a few hours ago.
Type Change:
[Half-Fiend] → [Fiend]
Half-Fiend. Was he not human to begin with? Or were his origins, like so many things, suddenly muddied and hazy? Recollections of simpler times furthered his conundrum.
My father hated the sun, he recalled. Never once did I see him eager to face a warm summer’s day. He was always in the shade, wrapped in his cloak no matter how unbearably hot it was. He enjoyed the overcast winters and his strolls by moonlight, or days spent beneath the showers of the early spring. I never thought it was strange - merely a preference. But now…
It could not be denied that his courtly behaviour, with all in mind, resembled that of a Vampire. Even his early life, which Prospero had never known with any degree of familiarity, lended the man an air of mystique. But he was no beast. He was a father. A saint. A beacon of kindness and generosity who loved the world and all who dwelled within it endlessly.
But the System did not lie. Prospero had been a Half-Fiend his whole life. And what other Half-Fiend resembled a human besides the bastard spawn of a Vampire? He could not believe it; he did not want to believe it. There would be a rational answer that explained everything somewhere in Queensbridge. He merely had to find it.
Despite the bumps and snags of his trek, Prospero was not fatigued by the journey. The wolf’s blood had enfired his own with a fidgety energy. Troubled with temptation, he found himself lapping the thickened veneer from the tips of his fingers, equal parts intrigued and disgusted by his own behaviour.
“Speaking of…” he came to a stop, “Didn’t the System mention something else?”
[Canine] Form Unlocked!
The notification had only flashed for a moment, but it seemed important. Assuming it was some kind of ability, he summoned a descriptor.
Ability - True Shapechanger (Beastblood)
Description - By slaying enemies of a specific [Type], you may adopt the forms of defeated creatures. Proficiency with a given [Type], as well as the attribute assigned to that particular [Type], is improved as you slay enemies.
Ability - Canine Form (Beastblood)
Description - Adopt a canine form, choosing from any [Canine] creature you have previously slain provided its original level was lower than or equal to your own at the time of death. Changing to this form increases your Beasthood by [15%] and bestows a [50%] bonus to all skills within the [Finesse] category for its duration.
“Shapechanger…”
How very fitting, he thought, for a Vampire to prosper from slaughter. By destroying life indiscriminately, the System promised him power. It was no wonder Vampires were known as monstrous stalkers of the night when murder was buried within their nature. But he was no monster, and had no intention of plummeting into sanguine madness.
Or, so he believed.
All at once, as he stepped between two tree trunks, his senses were dominated by fear and reflex. Something sticky was clinging to his face; webs of cerulean thread phasing out of the night’s darkness. He yanked his head back, only to find himself springing towards the enormous web which spanned the length of those two gnarled trees. He thrashed with his ensnared arms, opened his mouth to scream and felt the threads warping under his lips, snaking into his nostrils and dragging on his eyelashes.
Then there came the thousands of little beasts in the night, their tiny legs flitting between the rows of thread on their way to feed. Freshspawn spiderlings of budding size were suddenly animated upon the web, scurrying towards Prospero with delighted glee. He felt the creep of their hairless bodies rushing his flesh, nibbling wherever they could sense exposed skin. Prospero offered terror in reply, and succeeded only in entangling himself further as he flailed and tumbled about.
The spiderlings leapt between his parted lips and feasted on his gums. They snuck to the bottom of his eyelids and probed the delectable orbs beneath with their sharp forelegs. Prospero screamed to resist his failing consciousness, already half-dead from fright, and in the dire palace of his mind, he had already surrendered himself to the hope of swift oblivion.
He sought salvation from the divine, but his saviour would not be the hidden eyes located far beyond the Incandescence. Desperation forced his mind to conjure awful things, and from that fear, the System decided a path for him.
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[Canine] Form Activated
Finesse (+50%) / Beasthood (+15%)
His body contorted in a manner that should have killed him instantly. And yet, there was no pain. Even as his bones shattered and reformed, and as the puzzle of his veins rewired; even as great pools of blood glutted the moonlit soil, he felt nothing. The web was torn from him, unable to follow his transformation, and within seconds he was freed - though not quite in the way he envisioned. He was shorter, suddenly; on all fours, and surrounded by a pleasant warmth that reminded him of his thick, fluffy duvet in the manor. His teeth were sharp. His nose was now a proud snout tipped with wet, leathery nostrils. The spiderlings remaining upon him now contended with matted fur separating them from his flesh.
Prospero screamed once again, though it came out from him then as a shocked bark. His field of view was wider, but somewhat less focused than before, not to mention lower. What was once a dire, foggy wood now threatened to overwhelm him with choking scents. He widened out his four-legged stance and shook the spiderlings from his alpine fur.
Now he was a beast proper; a wolf. He horrified himself with the thought that, when the adrenaline passed him by, he would be stuck in that form forever. But when the urge to escape his lupine shackles arrived, Prospero underwent another transformation, and he was soon back to how he was before, standing on two feet.
[Canine Form] Deactivated
But he was parched. And not parched in the way that a sip of water would satisfy, but parched for blood. The deepening hunger which had boiled his veins just a while ago was reappearing. He swallowed the urge right down to his stomach and brushed himself free of the spiderlings which continued to nibble at his neck and hands.
I don’t feel numb, he thought. They’re not venomous, but they made up for it in ferocity. If I hadn’t taken that form…
He cast the thought aside before it could frighten him further. All he cared about was placing some distance between himself and the web before the spiderlings’ mother returned to investigate the disturbance. Prospero realised then why Luthor had always forbidden him from exploring the forests beyond Innsworm.
“I need to find a path…” he muttered, “I’ll end up running in circles otherwise.”
He sprinted off before he was caught in the gaze of something far more troublesome than mere spiderlings, though he didn’t make it far before a gargantuan silhouette plummeted from the canopy to block his path. The chittering mass of spindly hairs and creaking legs struck him with the kind of fear that would have left any other man paralysed.
Lunar Weaver
Grade 7 Beast (Arachnid)
Physical Resistance - 10% Magical Resistance - 5%
An azure band running over the length of the creature’s thorax and over its bulging abdomen reflected the moonlight. Its many eyes tracked Prospero’s movements with predatory anticipation. Prospero prayed that its proportions were a trick of the darkness if only to stow his fear for a moment, reluctant to accept the reality of a bear-sized spider.
Run, his mind demanded, before you become this monster’s next meal!
[Wolf] Form Activated
Finesse (+50%) / Beasthood (+15%)
The spider lunged, but Prospero’s profile was already lowered. He had no time to question the morals of vampiric powers when his life was on the line. A fresh burst of agility imparted by his new form sent him dashing under the beast’s suspended body. He moved as if he had never known a life with less than four legs, stealing between the oaks and bushes on a mad sprint to escape the spider’s territory.
It was a fine decision to have made in the heat of fear. In his human form, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. The forest blurred around him as his paws found purchase in the muck, launching from one perch to another along the roots and bumps. The spider pursued, but its talents were more suited to ambushes than hot-blooded hunts, and soon, Prospero’s ears could no longer hear the chittering of its eight legs between the grasses.
His first instinct was to return to his human form, but he found himself hesitant at the notion.
Appalling as it is, this wolf’s body does have its advantages, he thought. More to the point, I seem to be paying some dark cost whenever I adopt it… This terrible, beastly hunger is festering within me once more.
He pulled the term ‘Beasthood’ from his recollection of the System and summoned a description of the phenomenon, hoping to discover some answers about his nature.
Class Feature (Beastblood Vampire) - Beasthood
Description - As a Beastblood Vampire, your Beasthood is increased by shapeshifting. It begins to decrease when you have abstained from shapeshifting for 12 hours. Your natural strength and reflexes receive dramatic bonuses proportional to your current Beasthood, whereas your mental faculties and humanity suffer an inverse effect. If your Beasthood reaches 100%, you undergo a class change, becoming a [Ghoul]. This class change cannot be reversed.
Current Beasthood - 32%
The source of Prospero’s hunger, then, was something he could measure. If he indulged his vampirism, there was power to be gained - but something crucial to his humanity would be lost. There was no overcoming the urge in his heart; whether he indulged his bloodthirst or not, the hunger would remain. It was merely a question of whether he fancied the life of a starving wretch or a morbid gourmand.
It’s no wonder Vampires are known as fiends when this is the choice they have to make, he thought. Is that also my fate? Am I now nothing more than a vessel for these wretched desires?
At a low 32%, the thirst was just about bearable. An inch or two closer to his beastly nature, and Prospero wouldn’t have been able to keep his mind off the topic of blood. But there was a careful game to be played, he noticed, as there often was with the System. A balancing act of impulse and power with his own life on the line. He had no idea what a Ghoul was, but it didn’t sound the least bit pleasant.
The night’s chill bothered him less with a hide of fur to stave off the cold. He was still himself - still Prospero beneath that lupine shell. He would be faster as a wolf, and maintaining the form would allow him to manage his Beasthood with a little more elegance.
The light drew closer, and the stars of the distant Incandescence paled as the sky grew brighter by the minute. He would have less than an hour to reach Queensbridge before dawn broke over the horizon. With renewed vigor and a skull bursting with questions, he took off into the night, towards the distant scent of smoke and pig shit.
