Last night, I was a Familiar to a vampire lord of respectably high rank. I came across my dusty master in his dusty manor, ensconced in his dusty study, poring over a large number of dusty tomes and encyclopedias. I asked him what he was doing and he distractedly replied that he was plotting a grand tour of the vampire provinces to seek out (or force) political alliances for undisclosed purposes. "It's a dreary, thankless task," he muttered, "but I can't begin the tour without conducting the proper research or completing the paperwork." I asked if there was anything I could do to lend a hand, for I was after all, his servant. He seemed only too relieved to put down his quill, and explain what I had to do.
There was a large stack of papers, each one containing the same form template, but each relating to a different vampire lord. He was filling out each section, detailing such things as 'heritage and bloodline', 'how to approach X', 'how to respond to X gesture,' including sections for ideal bribes, special powers to be aware of, weaknesses to exploit, etc. It was a meticulous exercise in royal diplomacy and I admired my master's perspicacity. I was proud to serve such a shrewd vampire and the work appeared very much to my taste. An idea entered my head. "If you take me on as your employee, and match or exceed my current wage, I could quit my job and you would have me more often in your service."
It was a bold request, but he knew that my family duties and timetabling job prevented me from being around more often. He seemed to mull it over, perhaps wanting to see how I performed at the task to hand. Before he could answer, the doorbell rang, a vampire caller. "We'll discuss this later," he said, as he rose to answer it. This was the best I could have hoped for, and I set to work, hoping I had not bitten off more than I could chew. The first paper, the one he had left off at, was none other than Count Dracula. I leafed through the numerous heavy books and newspapers scattered over the table, some of which were University of Cambridge publications. An old encyclopedia Britannia had a section on the famous count.
I began to transfer the relevant information to the form. Correct modes of address from humans were bowing, prostration, or grovelling, depending on the nature of the request. This did not apply to vampires, where such meetings were usually a contest of dominance and bluff, with escalating displays of strength. Dracula was from a very old strain of nobility, and as such he followed an antiquated, courtly form of parley. When he made a particular gesture with his hand, the correct response for a vampire ambassador would be to aggressively crawl towards him on the ceiling, so I drew small symbols on the form to denote this. I found all of it very interesting, and I fantasised about updating my LinkedIn to 'Vampire Scribe.'
When he had dealt with the visitor, my master returned and asked how I was getting on. I excitedly told him everything I had learned about Dracula, hoping to impress him with my research, yet aware that there still remained a huge stack of forms to fill out. "Yes, yes, I know all of that," my master replied. "I always respond with an aggressive display of power. What I want to know are Dracula's secrets, how does he transfigure himself into a pillar of mist?" I sighed and said, "I'm afraid you won't find that written down anywhere. I can only offer what's been published. Have you thought about my proposal?" The vampire pondered, then said I must grant him his freedom in return, whereupon I told him he was getting his lores mixed up.
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