Regine von Carstein


The vampire narrows her eyes as she watches the procession - some shaman-looking Norscan conjuring his vapour and providing edible within a both to two warriors at his side, which only seemed to make them irritable and jittery.

Seeing the smoke slowly drifting towards her, Regine flicked her lips. She wasn't about to be driven from this mine by some scruffy old man and his two mortal goons.

Sticking to the shadows and moving as silent as death, the vampire crept around the small encampment, setting her spear aside and drawing her blade and dagger as she did so. Also, her typically angular, pleasing human features seemed to...shift, alter, as if she were relaxing a muscle as her real form emerged across her face - that of the undead predator, sharper angles, fangs visible. She finally came to a halt - right behind the shame, where her sword was aimed right at his back.