Year 1830
The air was chilly and brought with it the faint but distinct scent of blood. The lanterns from a long procession of carriages cast the only light in the cloudy darkness as the troupe slowly made its way towards my mansion. I glanced at the carriages clumsily amble up the dirt road on the side of the mountain before setting my eyes on the woman standing below my vantage point.
"Why bother when the Lord has been asleep for hundreds of years?" she murmured before she resumed her quick trek back to this shack next to me.
"She's right." I nodded, closed-lipped. "Rufus had always this grand way of doing things. Did he really think those fools he was inviting over were enough to distract me if I somehow woke up?"
I clicked my tongue continuously, a bit disappointed at Rufus, my trusted vassal. Although I already got a gist of the reason behind this annual celebration in my mansion.
