You see a lean figure, cloaked and hooded, hunched over the bar. A plate of food lies largely untouched beside him. What's in his glass, though, turns your stomach. It's thick, crimson, and smells vaguely of iron.

Blood.

You act on instinct. Your hand shoots down to the hilt of your dagger. Before you can draw it, though, a gnarled palm grips your wrist, restraining your attack.

"No need for violence," says the bartender. "Virgil won't bear his fangs unless you give him a reason to.."

Your blood runs cold. The vampire hasn't even flinched. You try not to stare, but you can't tear your eyes away. A real vampire, here? A shiver runs down your spine.

 "Most keep their distance from him," the barman adds. "Thing is, if it wasn't for him, we'd all be knee deep in undead by now. He doesn't like to brag. Lucky for you, a man will tell his bartender his deepest secrets. I'm sure he won't mind if I fill you in."

Virgil was always destined for greatness.

The only male heir of a wealthy, noble family, Virgil's future was planned before he was even born. Every male of the family, for a thousand years, had served in the military. Virgil learned to use a sword and shield as soon as he could stand. He enlisted in the Holy Emperor’s army the moment he was old enough. 

Virgil fought in many holy wars. He served with distinction, and was quickly promoted to troop captain. There seemed little doubt he would rise to the very to. 

All that changed in an instant.

One night, on the eve of a great battle, the troop's entire camp was woken by the sound of a scuffle. They rushed to Virgil's tent, fearful for their captain. What they found was beyond belief. Virgil stood over the body of his most trusted lieutenant. His knife was soaked with blood. Virgil was arrested on the spot, and dragged home to be court-martialled.

The trial was the talk of every inn and every tavern. Everybody wanted to know what could have driven a hero of the empire to murder. They were to be disappointed. During the court-martial, Virgil refused to say a single word in his defence. He even refused to make a plea. With no defence offered, Virgil was found guilty in under an hour. His father intervened. Instead of facing the death penalty, Virgil was discharged from the army, sentenced to a lifetime of hard labour, and disowned by his family.

So  what really happened that night?

There's a reason Virgil didn't defend himself.

 Virgil and his lieutenant were close friends. They'd served together for years, and shared a mutual respect. Virgil had never wanted him to die. The last thing he wanted to do now was disgrace his wife and children. Why should they be blamed for the poor fellow's misfortune?

Virgil's friend was a vampire.

During the latest tour of duty, the unfortunate lieutenant had contracted vampirism. Virgil had a sharp eye and a keen mind. He was the only person to spot the early signs. Unsure what to do, he decided to offer help with finding a cure. He waited until everybody else was asleep, then approached his friend. It went terribly. The lieutenant first denied everything. When Virgil wasn't convinced, his friend attacked. The scuffle was short and brutal. Virgil was forced to put his friend down. When he was arrested, Virgil swore to keep the man's secret, even at his own cost. That didn't mean that Virgil had any intention of serving his time.

Unknown to anybody, even himself, Virgil contracted vampirism himself that night. The first symptoms shows shortly after his trial. Virgil used his new abilities to escape captivity. He loathed the undead. Now he loathed himself, too. He vowed to honour his colleague’s memory. He would destroy all traces of the undead. Once his task was done, he would destroy himself. So Virgil's own private crusade began. His family name now erased, Virgil took the name given to him at hid sentence, as a reminder of what had brought him to this point.

Virgil the Disgraced was born.