I'd say the messiest vampires in lore would be the Volkihar. Just look at their castle. Blood. Everywhere. Bones. Entrails. Eh . . . and they're so brazen as to their attacks. But what I enjoy about the lore regarding these dead people is that there are over a hundred different clans with their own powers, abilities, etc and even how they approach prey.
The reason I believe Hassildor, Seridur, Jakben and Lord Lovidicus(especially this guy) don't have too much of a feeding problem is that they're of that special Clavicus Vile-modified lineage. The reason I believe this is the fact that they're, well, all rich or wealthy. Either nobleman or aristocrats or earls. The Pale Lady has the looks of a noble too. Here's something interesting: "During combat, she will occasionally announce "I will feed the mistress your blood!" or "You will be sweet, bloody nectar for the lady.". "The mistress" probably means Countess Rona Hassildor, who lies in a coma caused by her refusal to satisfy the demands of her vampirism on live victims. The bottles of human blood near the Pale Lady suggest that she collects the blood of her victims to feed to the countess.
Also, is that Jakben, Seridur and Lovidicus walked right under everyone's noses without too many questions arising. Just their strange nocturnal habits, which according to their tenets, is necessary. Immortal Blood explains the Cyrodiilic Vampires as indistinguishable from ordinary mortals when well-fed. More or less like Seridur. You wouldn't believe this person was a vampire unless you saw him or her three days without blood. The symptoms would be pale hands, blue nails, gaunt face, red eyes, etc. A living dead person.
But they would never let themselves be discovered . . .because they know better. Truly if you were an immortal being who can find innovative and smart ways to sate your condition and still be able to walk around society and using your age-old resources to acquire what you need and want, would you risk discovery? Vampirism is punishable by death by the evil mortal populace.
"Our bond with Vile makes us unique among our kind, for his guidance steels our savage craving with reason and savvy. For him we live amidst mankind, and twist them to our will from offices of power.
Transcendant of savages Sating thirst sans avarice Your coffers stay stuffed By social graces robust None know your nature; save Us None share your fate; save Us None welcome you as kin; save Us.
Given Vile's intervention they're able to hide any trace of vampirism. By, and I quote, Social graces robust. Additionally, to be a member of this Order means to be wealthy and well-known and respected.
Your coffers stay stuffed- Points to a fat Elder Scrolls bank account.
None know your nature, save us.- No one knows about the Cyrodiilic vampire's true nature, save for people who are vampires themselves. Did you know ingame Janus' disposition toward the player is 20+ is he's a vampire?
None share you fate; save us-Hmm, eternity as Clavicus Vile's plaything or Molag Bal's cellmate . . . who knows.
None Welcome you as Kin; save us- No one would welcome a vampire as family. The only family these creatures have is, well, each other.
Know first that we are no simple tribe of savages, tearing throats with the orgiastic abandon of our scattered, tribal brethren. Ours is a civil fraternity, to which we are bound - every one - by our dual hunger for flesh and influence. By the virtue of Imperial structure and bureaucracy, Cyrodiil has become our stronghold in the third era, and we suffer no savage rivals within our boundaries, reveal ourselves to none, and manipulate the hand of society to mete out our agendas.
Tribe of savages? Tearing throats with violence and brutality? I'm looking straight at you Harkon and all you other Volkihar! See, these vampires are more civil. You'd first think an Interview with a Vampire. Wealthy, charismatic, civilized. The mention of Cyrodiil becoming a stronghold in the third era means they're not native to Cyrodiil. They must have came in, kicked all the native clan's asses to Coldharbour and infiltrated society as wealthy entrepreneurs and bureaucrats. Imagine of one these guys in the High Council!
To patron Clavicus Vile, beacon o'er our affairs, we owe our successes and social stature. Our bond with Vile makes us unique among our kind, for his guidance steels our savage craving with reason and savvy. For him we live amidst mankind, and twist them to our will from offices of power.
What price they gave Vile for this, I can't say. But the reason why they can masquerade as normal mortals and go about as wolves in a nice sheep's clothing is because of Clavicus Vile. He also seemed to curb their blood-hunger, too, to a small degree. Not needing more than necessary unless they go days starving.
Most barbaric tribes think themselves powerful by the gift of Bal's blood alone, and squander the gift. There are those, however, who show signs of enlightenments, and earn our attention - those such as Glenmoril Wyrd, who live within the walls of Breton cities, or the Whet-Fang sodality of Black Marsh, who use magicka to keep captives catatonic and harvest from them the red nectar. These foes may one day threaten to impugn our sovereignty within the boundaries of Cyrodiil, thus compelling our vigilance. Should any encroach upon our dominion, our wrath must be swift and total.
While superior in some ways, it doesn't mean they can't learn a thing or two from other clans. In the Vile Lair download made for vampiric characters, there is a catatonic prisoner that the player can feed. He'll never awaken. They might have learned from the Black Marsh clan, the Whet Fang. Why? Well, the ingame book with these tenets came along with the Vile Lair and also the vampire home is bordering Black Marsh . . . I even wrote some part of my fanfiction in which my male vampire began building subterranean cattle cells for when members of his clan pass through and require some rest and to feed before going out to attend to mortal affairs while also lowering the mortal death toll that would raise eyebrows and launch an investigation.
To preserve our ideals and way of life, two primary edicts shall be observed. Above all, reveal thyself and our Order to no other, for discretion is the greatest of our virtues. Do not feed where you may be found out, or on those who may not suspect your passing. Avoid daylight by lifestyle; dispel common belief in our kind, and maintain supple appearance through satisfaction of the thirst. Second, devote your pursuits to the procurement of influence, political and otherwise. Our strength is not in physical numbers, but in skillful manipulation of society. Always be mindful of our Patrons, and preserve the Order. Devote yourself to these ideals always, and the Order shall count you amongst our own.
Rule number 1. Don't. Say. A. Word. You're not members of the Illuminati Order. No wonder this secret society has been going on for centuries. They're intelligent in their approach and revealing themselves would be suicide . . . remember Lord Lovidicus? What an idiot. Maintain supple appearance through satisfaction of the thirst= drink deep, look good.
Devote to the procurement of influence, political and otherwise means focus on the arts. On Imperial structure. The wheels that turn society, the heart of it. Get a hold of Imperial power, you essentially have a finger in every other province if one is so ambitious. The members might be a select few. Many vampires we see in game in Oblivion are feral and live in caverns. The Order does not tolerate these vampires. Janus Hassildor had them wiped out because they would draw too much attention and even compared them to base animals! Much like the vampires of the Order consider all other vampires barbaric beasts which support my claim that the Count is a member of this society. By devoting to these things, you can guess a vampire from the Order will surely welcome that undead blueblood a member of the family.
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And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed. I long for scenes where man hath never trod A place where woman never smiled or wept There to abide with my Creator, God, And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept, Untroubling and untroubled where I lie The grass below—above the vaulted sky.”
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