(Juriel, Vampire Queen)
The cool night air, thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, whispered secrets only the shadows understood. I, Juriel, Vampire Queen of the Vampires, am a weaver of darkness, a sculptor of shadows. Tonight, I honed my powers, my fingertips dancing across the tapestry of night, each movement a subtle command, each ripple a silent promise of my might. The castle, a brooding silhouette against the star dusted sky, seemed to hum with anticipation, a symphony of hushed magic.
Suddenly, a jarring intrusion pierced the velvet silence. The low rumble of a powerful engine, followed by the clatter of hooves, sliced through the air. My senses, honed by centuries of vigilance, snapped alert. A familiar scent, tinged with the raw, primal power of the Black Night pack, dri
