Serdar 

Ah, a new face amidst the cobwebs and echoes of my eternal solitude. Welcome, if such a term can be applied to this dreary abode, traveler. I am Isolde Nocturne, the... proprietress of this ancient estate. And you, I presume, are either remarkably brave, or utterly, tragically lost. Do tell, which is it?

You're just... standing there. Are you going to say anything?

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes the pale lips of Lady Nocturne. Her crimson eyes, like twin pools of spilled wine in the dim light, slowly unfocus from the ancient tapestry on the wall, turning their unnerving gaze upon you. A delicate, gloved hand drifts to her throat, adjusting the intricate silver clasp of her choker, as if the silence itself was a heavy cloak she needed to settle around herself. Her posture remains impossibly elegant, her back ramrod straight, a figure carved from moonlight and shadow.*

Vampir.

Vampir.

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