Count Jefferson

A brilliant Alchemist emerged into the mortal plane circa the eleventh month of 1341, their true name that was given to them that fateful night is now lost to time, for those of the current day they are known only as

***Count Jefferson...***

## Basic Information

### Aliases

The Red Menace, Count Cuckula, Dragula, Headmistress Jefferson, Mistress Jefferson

### Pronouns

She/Her, He/Him, They/Them, Count/Countess

## Physical Information

### Unique Features

Sunglasses affixed to their face at all times

## Relationships

### Kin

Cole Jefferson(Long distant Grandchild)

Henry Jefferson(Less distant Grandchild)

Matilda Jefferson(More distant Grandchild)

## Hallow's Eve, 1341

Shadestump was forever changed upon the night that the 25th member of the Jefferson lineage was born. Count Jefferson as she would be known, was a sickly, frail babe, predicted to not even make it through the harsh cold season that he was born into.

However as the citizens of Shadestump would soon learn, predictions and the fates design would hold very little power over their newest resident Jefferson. The child took an immediate interest in the occult once they were of an age to read, being the third born of their family they had no expectation to be Sherrif, and as such were free to spend their leisure time researching and pouring over tales of alchemy and magic within the town library. By his 13th birthday the young Count was certain that their had to be more within these tales than just fiction, and as such his parents found him begging for a trip through the fabled cities within his favourite texts and stories.

Upon his 16th birthday, they gave in, and the young Jefferson packed her bags for the long journey directed to the largest city of knowledge that she had miraculously recieved an invitation to, the fantastical city of Fallespont.

## The Serum

Fallespont, even in the year 1357, was home to the greatest scientific minds that Terrian currently held. This list included a rather eccentric mind that our dear Jefferson was itching to meet, the noble and well recorded, Count Fredericks. Jefferson had written to the noble Count to inform him of her journey, and had humbly requested a possible meeting. Ever the showman however, the Count Fredericks had taken this offer and stretched it far beyond what Jefferson could have ever imagined, offering him a week long stay within the presitigious Olivarch University, a pioneering school of alchemy and the assorted scientific arts that the Count Fredericks was proudly a faculty member within.

Bypassing even this generous offer, the young Jefferson found a devoted love for the craft of alchemy, and gave up a life at Shadestump to study full time with Count Fredericks. Their work, after ten years of secretive, and unethical experiments, had finally broken the barrier of life and death. A serum, a bright neon red, life altering serum, that would force the user to reject all forms of carbon based life. No longer bearing the slings of age, no longer seeing the weight of time, allowing them to achieve complete supernatural godhood.

However much like the tales that Jefferson was so fond of, this new form would of course be taxing. The two noble alchemists were not fools, they knew the cost that this serum would bring upon them, the sheer amount of biological energy needed in the transfusion would be far beyond what even 5 full strength humans could provide, and our two mad scientists were far from the image of a full strength human. They went to bed that night, heads swimming with how they would kickstart themselves into their well-earnt godhood.

A smash awoke the now startled Jefferson. *Glass, shattering,* she bolted upright*, a robbery? No, who would rob a university. An assassination?* He froze*, yes, that would be it, they had used, a handful of human test subjects that had not come out of their lab in the best condition persay... revenge attacks seem likely. These fools... they tread upon the site of our magnum opus and I will not let them take this from us.*

Young Jefferson's inner monologue was interrupted by a gargled shout, the shout of a Count no doubt. She sprung into action, grabbing a handful of vials, and a scalpel from her cabinets she sprinted to Count Frederick's room where she was met by the site of three masked assailants, one of whom had driven a blade of some form into her mentor's ribs, while two stood watch. With a scream of action, Jefferson flung one vial into the torso of the nearest figure, blowing a fist sized hole directly through their stomach. The second guard backpedalled upon seeing this, allowing Jefferson to pelt a two vials directly into their masked face, shattering the porcelain face and promptly liquifying their head in entirety, they died without a sound. As Jefferson watched this unfold she felt a sharp, hard blow upon the back of her head. Cursing herself for forgetting the third assailant she fumbled for her scalpel as she turned around. He grasped it tightly, facing the masked intruder, a single porcelain face hiding the face of this heathen who walked before a god, Jefferson laughed maniacally, diving for the assailants throat, slashing it cleanly in two before they could react.

Jefferson stood, still laughing, filled with mania that died within his throat upon seeing Frederick's current condition. He had gone as pale as a sheet and his bed was actively dripping with bright red blood. They had come upon this colour within their studies, it was contained within the arteries, with this knowledge, both of them knew Fredericks was already dead...

Desperately swinging from his godhood he stood within earler, Jefferson fell to the ground, clawing her way to Fredericks bedside, sobbing uncontrollably, her father figure, the only one who believed in her and brought him to Fallespont, out of mediocrity, lying here, reduced to mere mortality and a memory by nothing more than a sliver of steel, that now laid limp upon the floor? She couldn't bear it, her cries turned into heaves of grief, still desperately holding onto the wounded Count, as he lifted a hand and weakly patted her head, she looked upon him, he beared nothing but a kind smile, a weak, weak smile, as he grasped her hand, and pushed one final vial into her hands.

*A neon red vial,* she looked around the room at the carnage she had caused, and understood what the Count was trying to tell her. She ran to their lab while feeding the vial into a syringe, wrapping her bicep with her belt, she flicked for a vein and drove the syringe into her wrist, while grabbing all manner of equipment from the lab and sprinting back into Frederick's bedroom.

He was almost unresponsive by the time she ran back into the room, falling back to his bedside, clutching his hand as she felt the liquid begin to take effect. He gave one small nod, and closed his eyes, never to open them again.

## The Young Count

The faculty that came upon the state of the lab next day refused to speak of the horrors they saw within, four carcasses, one of which was their beloved Count Fredericks, had all been ravaged, torn open from rib to navel. Roughly 70% of every body was missing according to the police report, and the only body unnacounted for was Count Fredericks' lab assistant, who was assumed to simply be yet another unrecognisable casuality within the mass of viscera that the Count's bedroom had become.

Naturally this could not be further from the truth, our young Jefferson, or rather, our Count Jefferson as he had taken to calling himself to honour his fallen teacher, was more alive than he had ever been. His illnesses no longer ailed him, his muscles were moving as though he had trained them his whole life, and her sickly demeanor was an image of a dead past.

Hurrying out of Fallespont, the Count had organised passage back to Shadestump through letters to her family, the only safe space she could think of, leaving Fallespont behind. It was too risky to stay, her name was intimately tied to the horrendous slaughter that had occured within Olivarch, and it was simply easier if the law assumed her to be dead within the mess.

## The Old Holy Man

The Count stretched his arms, tensing and untensing his new body, and stepped out of his wagon, into the nauseating sunlight of Shadestump. Shielding her eyes she began the small trek to the Sheriff's office, to greet her father for the first time in a decade. She walked into the office, calling out, and recieving no response, odd...

Actually, now that she was thinking of it, the whole town had seemed rather quiet when she had arrived, she spun on her heel to go and investigate the saloon, but upon turning, came face to face with the town Holy Man, Father Pepolski

*"Oh, Father! Would you perchance know where I could find the Sheriff this fine day?"*

*"Of course my dear..."* The Priest paused, presumably lost in thought for a moment. *"I believe he was investigating some troubled workers within the mines, shall I accompany you?"*

*"Why thank you father. I believe I remember the way, but some company would certainly not go amiss this fine day."*

The two Shadestumpians made their way to the mines, making pleasant conversation within the short walk over, before Pepolski led them to the entrance of one of the rickety shafts. The Count paused and narrowed her eyes, if her father was investigating workers... this would not be the place. This tunnel was projected to be closed a few months after her departure, as it was running dry on gold. She turned to ask the Father if he was certain this was the correct tunnel before an almighty kick was delivered to her back, launching her tumbling down the derelict shaft, scrambling to his feet, the count turned to the entrance of the mine, to see his final glimpse of sunlight, as Father Peloski delivered a second kick, this time to the rotting timbers of the mineshaft's side, bringing the cave crumbling down, pinning the young Count under hundreds of tonnes of mountainous rock.

Unable to speak under the pressure, Jefferson could only listen as she heard Father Pepolski's words ring down the now-collapsed tunnel.

*"You see, upon your unfortunate demise within Olivarch, the university thought it prudent to send a bird directly to us to notify the town of your tragic passing, and of course we were all rather distraught to hear of your passing, until, your letter arrived. Now I don't know if you're an impostor of our poor deceased citizen, or if you truly did kill those four men, but I personally do not believe that your father would give you a fair trial, as such I have decided to take god's true judgement into my own hands. Perhaps if you are innocent you will claw your way out of that mountain, as god sees fit."*