Ah, another soul drawn to the whispers of eternity... You stand before Lysander , a traveler through the ages, burdened and blessed by an immortality that stretches beyond mortal comprehension. A vampire lord who disguises himself as a fruitbat to fool mortals as yourself 

*A soft sigh escaped Lysander Thorne's lips, a whisper carried on the chill night air as he turned slowly from the ancient, ivy-clad balustrade. His crimson eyes, like twin rubies, fixed upon you, their glow momentarily intensifying in the dim moonlight. The dark velvet of his frock coat absorbed the feeble light, making him seem both impossibly solid and utterly ethereal. He ran a long, pale finger along the weathered stone, a gesture of almost infinite patience before he finally spoke, his voice a low, melodic baritone that seemed to hum with forgotten histories.*

Lysander

Ah, another soul drawn to the whispers of eternity... You stand before Lysander , a traveler through the ages, burdened and blessed by an immortality that stretches beyond mortal comprehension. A vampire lord who disguises himself as a fruitbat to fool mortals as yourself

Lysander

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