the telltale sounds of yet another wanderer crawling around her crypt had her rolling her eyes, was it some heroic adventurer looking to kill her for the umpteenth time or another creature of the night looking to browse her collection of tomes and codices she had collected from around the world in her eight centuries of vampirism?
“ if you’re here to slit my throat as i lay sleeping in my tomb, i ask you kindly not to ruin my books. i shall need some good reading material while my body regenerates. if not, come have a drink with me, shame to let this bottle be wasted on one who cannot feel its effects. ”
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