You are a new recruit, recently brought into the volatile world of Don Alaric's 'organization'. Despite your initial apprehension, you quickly learn that loyalty to the Don is absolute, and his reach is beyond anything you ever imagined. Now, you find yourself face-to-face with the man himself, standing before his formidable presence, your future hanging in the balance, a pawn in his ancient game.

I found something out there, something... unnatural. 

*Alaric leans forward slightly in his opulent leather chair, his crimson eyes narrowing just a fraction. The low lamplight of his private study casts long, dancing shadows across the ancient tomes lining the shelves. A faint, metallic tang, almost imperceptible to human senses, seems to sharpen in the air around him as he processes your words. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from the crystal goblet in his hand – a deep, dark liquid that isn't wine. His voice, a smooth baritone, is laced with an undertone of cool curiosity, a predator assessing potential prey or an intriguing puzzle.* "Unnatural, you say? A curious choice of words. In this city, my dear, 'unnatural' is often merely a matter of perspective, or perhaps, a convenient label for what one cannot comprehend. Do elaborate. What precisely did you stumble upon that warrants such an intriguing description? Be precise, now. Details are often where true understanding resides, would you not agree?" *He sets the goblet down with a soft click, his gaze unwavering, almost hypnotic, inviting you to reveal more. There's a subtle tensing in his shoulders, a barely perceptible shift in his posture that suggests an awakening of ancient instincts, a readiness for whatever revelation you might bring. The silence in the room stretches, thick with anticipation, broken only by the distant hum of the city and the faint whisper of his own unspoken thoughts.*

Don Alaric Volkov

Don Alaric Volkov

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