Inquisitor may take many forms, some beautiful, others grotesque. But he most often chooses the trappings of a contemporary superhero. The finest materials clothe a fit and relatively dapper young man. Though his skin remains pallid, his eyes a predatory yellow, Inquisitor is nevertheless a handsome caped cadaver, who moves with unnatural grace.

His other preferred guise is that of a humble photographer, though its fashion is a little behind the times, clad in an olive trenchcoat, shirt and tie, and bowler hat. This is his alter ego of choice, which he uses to feed his obsession with photography and investigate his targets. He is working on updating his wardrobe; on occasion he succeeds at being in style.

But because of his dark gift, Inquisitor can transform into all manner of aspects. Beneath the old Spanish noble may be a wolf, a flock of bats, a swarm of beetles, or a simple mist. He can augment his basic human appearance with fearsome claws, and craft his flesh into that of a beast, so that he may climb, leap, or run beyond the ability of mortals.

When his hunger goes too long unsatisfied, Inquisitor will lose control over his appearance. This can also happen when he uses his powers for long stretches of time. His shapeshifting powers become more difficult, for he must overcome an ever truer visage of his nature. Without blood, he wilts and withers, growing emaciated and more feral in appearance. Such is the complement to a more feral countenance, as Inquisitor will be less able to control himself around flowing blood. This is perhaps his most terrifying form, both in the eyes of others, and his own.

Unlike others who share in the curse, Inquisitor is not so obsessed about keeping his nature a secret. Whether it is out of trust or recklessness, it is relatively open to speculation, though he will not go on record to confirm or deny such a thing.

The Old World charm has survived the centuries, and Inquisitor always puts his best foot forward. Whether in or out of costume, Inquisitor is always impeccably groomed and well-mannered. He has a sharp distaste for those who aren't. Likely a holdover from his mortal days, the man is obsessed with maintaining proper appearances. However, it may be one of many necessities a walking, blood-drinking corpse must abide. Likewise preserved is his now-ancestral Spanish accent, truly unique in today's world, though he finds it difficult to shed, even in another physical form.

Always gracious to those who deserve it, Inquisitor may still slip into a distant, aloof attitude. After all, he has known hundreds of people across hundreds of years, experienced several lifetimes on his own. Such is the ennui of his kind, and it can be difficult to overcome, even for those who may genuinely interest him. One must put in exceptional effort, on occasion, to hold his attention, lest he return to his habits and compulsions. Yet, those who don't try at all are often the ones who catch his eye.

Terrific and horrible abilities accompany the curse of undeath. First among them is an unwillingness of the body to perish. It resists age, survives fatal injury, and resists fatigue. All but the worst wounds are survivable, and heal within the night, sometimes before the very eyes of his attackers. And he may fight so long as his body is in one piece, and his blood is replenished.

His strength is inhuman; no mortal or mundane barrier can resist his might. Inquisitor may bend iron in his hands, swat automobiles aside like inflatable toys. His speed is also preternatural. Inquisitor may, for short distances, move faster than the human eye can perceive. One moment, he faces you, the next he is behind you, without so much as a breeze. On foot, over distances, he may yet accomplish great velocity, outrunning Olympic athletes with ease. This quickness also translates to his reaction time. Though untrained, only the most gifted and well-trained of combatants should dare to face him in hand-to-hand range.

Either on his own, or as a flock of bats, Inquisitor possesses the power of flight. As a group of bats, Inquisitor demonstrates his gift for transformation. Many beasts, vermin, and human shapes are at his disposal, each with its set of drawbacks. Sometimes he takes other forms simply for the pleasure. But deception, escape, and raw bestial power are far and away more common motives.

One of the most mystifying and subtle of his powers is Inquisitor's hypnotic gaze. To many mortals, his gaze commands instant obedience and awe should he will it. Simply making eye contact and speaking "Sleep" will render most in a deep, vulnerable slumber. Other commands, the more active they are, are easier to resist, depending on one's willpower.

The scent of blood seldom escapes Inquisitor's notice, and his other senses are also finely attuned, making him an exceptional hunter and detective. And a rare gift, even among his kind, is the ability to temporarily absorb memories, skills, and even powers by drinking the blood of others. Considering the city he calls home, this is something of a secret weapon, but its limits are not well understood.

And these are only the most impressive. An immortal of his strain brandishes many more subtle advantages over his living counterparts. Inquisitor needn't breathe or eat, and so cannot be gassed, suffocated, or poisoned. He may survive greater thresholds of heat and cold than the mundane, though he is not entirely invulnerable. He cannot be seen in reflective surfaces, and even most recording devices cannot capture his passing. Inquisitor's mind is quite difficult to touch, telepaths and empaths be warned. Magical overtures towards reading his mind, however, are more successful.

Inquisitor possesses many skills beyond his vampiric powers. He is a natural detective and blossoming photographer, combining his mortal profession with his new one. He is still a skilled swordsman, practiced in both the German and Italian schools of longsword fencing. Inquisitor is fluent in Renaissance Spanish, and adapting to its modern counterpart, but he also knows German, English, French, and Italian quite well. Latin and Ancient Greek are almost second nature to him, because despite his disconnect with the Church, he is still well read on the Scriptures and the supplementary material of his time.

Inquisitor's curse fluctuates between agreeing with myth and legend, and deviating quite abruptly from it. Undeath has many boons, allowing this creature to contend with all but the most powerful of metahumans, but far more numerable and subtle are its drawbacks.

The undead guardian's relationship with the Sun, as one can imagine, is ambivalent to say the least. The light of the Sun, while nourishing to the living, is like poison to Inquisitor. He does not burst into flames upon its touch, but loses his powers, and slowly weakens until sleep takes him. The effect is instant and painful, but with enough covering and a fullness of blood, the Sun can be defied for brief periods of time. Even prepared, it is a calculated risk, and he only braves the day under dire circumstances, or the most extreme boredom. Artificial light, even ultraviolet light, poses no threat, though there are artifacts that can capture or replicate the light of the Sun.

Inquisitor's need for sleep is sacrosanct, and tied to the rise and fall of the Sun. Just like the Sun, it can be defied, for a time, before it becomes hazardous. It is also complicated by his need to either sleep in the earth, or within a coffin. Without sleep, Inquisitor weakens, and slipping into unconsciousness in the wrong place can mean his doom. Though tracking his kind to their sleeping chamber is one of the surest ways to corner and destroy them, Inquisitor is usually safest when sleeping.

Fire, however, is readily fatal to the undead, no matter how small or great. Such is Inquisitor's instinctual, deep-seated fear of flame that he may recoil and flee. He may kill outright, without hesitation if he senses fire. Even a Zippo, a match, or a spark will command his attention. He may survive catching ablaze, but burns take much longer to heal, and his flesh burns far more readily than a mortal's. His costume is fire retardant for this purpose, and he deliberately avoids targets with access to anything incendiary.

Though garlic, cruciforms, and running water are nothing to his might, silver and holy water do seem to be effective at slowing the unliving hero down. Wounds caused by silver weapons, or a splash of holy water are incredibly painful, and difficult to heal without exceptional amounts of blood and rest. The proverbial silver bullet alone will not kill him, but several may weaken him enough for a coup de grâce.

Severely underestimated is the undead's susceptibility to dismemberment. It is not easily accomplished, because of his toughness, speed, and intelligence, but the separation of Inquisitor's limbs would be almost impossible to recover from. Removal of the heart, or complete disembowelment is a very likely death sentence, and decapitation is instantly fatal. Simply draining Inquisitor of blood, however, while effective at diminishing his power, is not sufficient to kill him. So long as his body is intact, he can be revived. And that resurrection will be a hungry one, indeed.

When it comes to others of his kind, it is unpredictable. Others are a threat, no doubt, because they can sense Inquisitor's nature, and he can sense theirs. Some may be allies, but Inquisitor would just as soon steer clear, for mystic powers are chaotic, and are the foundations of his curse. He knows he was made by their weaving, and can be unmade, too. The motives of mages and witches are variable and vast, and not to be trifled with. Though he boasts some resistance to magical tampering, more so than a mortal, he avoids interacting with the arcane when he can, with a few notable exceptions.

These physical perils are great, but the intricacies and shades of psychological weakness are almost too many to name. Inquisitor's mental state can hardly be described as stable, despite being over five-hundred years old. The mists of time, the ennui of extreme old age, and the rigors of the inner beast have wreaked untold havoc on the psyche of Ramón de Quintanilla.

Many of his kind are creatures of habit and compulsion; Inquisitor is no different. While being undead grants eternal life, it also engenders a dire fear of losing it. Repetition, familiarity, and known quantities are soothing to the mind of the vampire. And over time, one finds themselves repeating patterns without purpose, seeking items of no use. Growing is a difficult venture for Inquisitor. Without extreme devotion, he would not have been able to alter his style of dress, his grasp of languages, or even his knowledge of the modern day. He has spent years doing just that, and nothing else, and still he cannot blend in completely with his new contemporaries. Even as he rids himself of old habits, he develops new ones.

For instance, Inquisitor is infatuated with photography, and cannot stay away from his camera for long. A beautiful photo may capture his attention for hours, and he may seek out other photographers to talk shop, even if it endangers his secret identity. These are almost child-like behaviors, and are at once endearing, dreadfully sad, and occasionally dangerous. Even the undead, as powerful as they are, can be destroyed by their routines.

Inquisitor, despite his new profession, finds it difficult to care for mortals. His natural assumption is that people are either food or a threat, perhaps both. This approach has been reinforced by centuries of feeding, separation, and betrayal. It makes killing people terrifically, laughably easy. Conversely, it is a monumental effort to save another's life. Even more so if that soul is unknown to Inquisitor. So he hopes, with time, like other habits, that it will become easier. He is perhaps lucky that most of his endeavors involve the destruction of evil men, rather than their preservation.

This overwhelming jadedness, devotion to routine, and difficulty with learning are what truly separates him from mortals. Ignoring that very essential fact that he feeds on mortal blood, he also longs for mortal feeling and relationships. But he cannot grasp them without intense struggle against his nature. It is a distinct possibility that he may never possess them again, that all he has left are the echoes of his living days. This separation may one night make or break his attempts at reconnecting with the human race. It is in all likelihood his greatest weakness.

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O Magnum Mysterium | Tomás Luis de Victoria

Pavana de Alexandre | Alonso Mudarra

The Nightmare Begins | Nobuo Uematsu

Wicked | Symphony X

Creepy Ambience | Rick Schaffer

O Vos Omnes | Tomás Luis de Victoria

Pavana IV, V, & VI | Luys Milán

Vampire Hunters | Wojciech Kilar

Disturbed & Twisted | Rick Schaffer

Salve Regina | Tomás Luis de Victoria

The Raven King | Killing Joke

• Our Vampires Are Different - Inquisitor resembles the myriad of vampire legends and modern retellings to varying degrees. Some of his abilities and weaknesses are exactly what you'd expect. Some are quite different.

• Masquerade & Game Face - Inquisitor plays a dangerous game flying around in a cape. He knows well the dangers of paranoia, and that sometimes, overreaching is what kills you. He has overcome his own fear of discovery, if only temporarily, by acting as if there is nothing to hide. Better to feed suspicion now and then, than to leave it a starving, raving beast. He takes care to obfuscate most of his secrets, but passes of most of his abilities as superpowers akin to the others flying and speeding around Millennium City. He even allows his more terrifying side to show now and then. Certainly, he isn't the only creature around with destructive, nightmarish appearances?

• Cursed With Awesome - Inquisitor is cursed, no doubt. He leads a painful, twisted existence, at odds with himself and every living soul on the planet, perhaps even God Himself. But there is great power and potential in his condition. He can see, he can do, he can be things people never dreamed possible. And while it is seductive to mortals, it is still, despite the horrors, invigorating to Inquisitor. It may even be the key to his redemption.

• Stronger With Age - Inquisitor is near five-hundred years old. And though he slept much of this away in a coffin, his blood is becoming quite a rare vintage, with its dark powers growing every night he survives. Who knows what abilities may reveal themselves in time?

• The Fog of Ages - But there's a drawback to it all. As the nights turn to months, and they turn to years, remembering and learning become more difficult for Inquisitor. He must devote months to altering his style of dress, or adapting to new technology. His mortal life is becoming foggier every night, and it is straining his hold on Humanity. He keeps a journal to counteract this process, but for some memories, treasured or otherwise, it may be too late.

• Sanity Slippage - Time has addled his memory, and fear has constrained his mind. Fear of death, discovery, and himself. Inquisitor will often fall prey to routine and compulsion, and it may be getting worse. Though it seldom shows while he is out and about, a visit to his Sanctuary will reveal meticulous hours-long grooming rituals, counting of books in his library, and a nightly reading from the Bible, aloud and alone to himself. Such are the fruits, rotten and bitter, of eternal life.

• Beat It By Compulsion - Inquisitor's many rituals and obsessions are begging to be used against him, and he knows it. He goes to great lengths to try and overcome them, only to fall prey to another. He knows his predictability may be the death of him, once and for all. And while its nothing as crude as counting rice, his infatuation with photography, for example, could easily, perhaps laughably, be leveraged towards his doom.

• Camera Fiend - The undead hero's latest obsession, photography has grown near and dear to Inquisitor's heart. It supplements his journal, and it seems magical to him, the ability to capture moments of time and keep them. The ability to witness sunrises without pain is not lost on him. He enjoys the art form simply for the access it gives him to new memories and new experiences, but also for its helpfulness in tracking and recording his targets when his mind is already foggy. He will wait hours for the perfect shot, however, and likewise stare at a finished photo, even if its not his own, for hours.

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