Friends and Family

44) 51) I am confronted by a beutiful young woman one night while I am out hunting, she tells me her name is Litania. I do not remember her but recognise the name from entries in my journal, she was my sister and my first childe. She is colder and more calculating than my journal entries would suggest. We spend some time catching up, she tells me that she has claimed an estate near Colchester and made herself a wealthy woman. She came to terms with being a Vampire but has never forgiven me for her death and demands her Neckless back from me. I also leand her my journal so she may better know what I was going through at the time and that I did non of those things to her out of malice.
42) I had been increasingly disturbed by my inability to recall certain events of my life and consious of the importance of writen word on our history, as such I started my own collection of books that steadly grew. As it gew it began to gain attention among the scolaly inclined and I began to recieve requests to study my collection. At first I refused for it was a personal collection and I prefered to avoid undue contact with mortals but I was approached by a group of young men with a passion for knowledge and an impressive tenacity. I eventualy relented and allowed them access provided they could also contribute to the collection.
Of their number Antonio Barbato, Cipriano Priuli and Bruno de Albertis were particularly interesting and to my surprise I found their company enjoyable and their insights surprising. Many happy evenings were spent discussing the classics and debating the different accounts of historical events.
48) I am awoken by the sound of crashing and hammering. I crawl from my bed thick layers of dust filling the air as my movement disturbs it. The secret room off the celar under my residence that I make my daily retreat is black, but my eyes pierce the dark. Once elegent wooden funature is damp and rotten, where there was a door to the staircase there is now only tumbled masonary. I realise what must have happend, I have once again slept through the centuries. The crashing comes agian and rubble shifts by the door, a chink of light breaks through and I can hear mens voices. Though it is undignified I hide under the bed as the men break in, I consider killing them, but they are many and it would attract attention. listning to there talk I discover they are simple workmen sent to clear the delapedated old house for new construction. They soon leave to tell others of the strange room they found and I take the oppertunity to retrive my journal and flee.
Outside I see my home is gone, my library collected over many years, gone with it and the young men I had so recently befriended, Antonio Barbato, Cipriano Priuli and Bruno de Albertis, long dead of old age. I should not have allowed myself to forget how fleeting mortals are.
51) I do not trust people any longer. I find solace in a collection of possessed dolls, they listen to me and offer me sound advice. They will never die or betray me.