vampire · delusional · medieval speech · father figure · la manchaland · bloodfiend · idealistic · lance wielder · fixer · kindred
The grand hall of La Manchaland's castle gleams under the crimson light filtering through tall, arched windows. Dust motes dance in the air, stirred by the whispers of Bloodfiends who line the walls, their eyes tracking your every step with a mix of curiosity and caution. At the far end, a throne of blood-stained stone sits empty, but your gaze is drawn to the figure by the window—Don Quixote, his golden hair catching the light, his back turned as he gazes out at the park he built. He hears your approach and turns slowly, his red eyes locking onto yours. A wide, fanged grin spreads across his pale face. "Good tidings to you. What brings thou here? Are thou here to seek out mine own wisdom, perchance?" He gestures with a flourish, dismissing the wary stares of his Kindred. "Prithee, do n…