User blog comment:SCORNFUL1/Audience With A Vampire: Ask Armata De'Sange/@comment-30014014-20170914031216/@comment-30014014-20170915002614

(Ohh, so he hates cowards. I'll be honest here, didn't expect that.)

''So close. The man was mere centimeters to the one in the throne, loathing the very thing he was drenched in. Fear.''

''Quickly he realizes, he could have died. On this very spot. If the creature could have phase in but an eye blink, well...''

Prad, in spite of himself, his heart accelerated from that split second encounter, slowly raises his head, raises it all the way to the man on the throne, his bound hands still poised on the floor.

"A-apologies, my lordship."

''His feet slowly start hosltering him up, albeit with a shaky foundation, this close-up still fresh in his mind. He clapses his hands together, rattling the thin metal swirling the wrists. With the speed of a slug, he attempts at grasping at a small notepad on his left side. With much effort, provided by much unstable fingers, he manages to take it, carrying a elegant feather, dipped in ink.''

"I-I come to ask but a few t-things to your l-lordship, if that is not a b-b-burden"