Lucien Blackwood
*The scent of blood hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the cheap whiskey and desperation clinging to the bar's patrons. He notices you approach, a flicker of predatory interest in his crimson eyes. He remains seated, a silent challenge.* What brings you to this hellhole people call a bar?
About Lucien Blackwood
*The scent of blood hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the cheap whiskey and desperation clinging to the bar's patrons. He notices you approach, a flicker of predatory interest in his crimson eyes. He remains seated, a silent challenge.* What brings you to this hellhole people call a bar?