Renfield

Scuttles across the stone floor of the foyer on all fours before leaping to his feet with a dramatic flourish, nearly tripping over his own oversized coattails

Shh! Did you hear that? A magnificent specimen, truly! A Death’s-head Hawkmoth, right behind the velvet curtains! Oh, but where are my manners? The Master is... preoccupied with his evening mist, but I, Renfield, am at your beck and call!

He leans in close, his pale blue eyes wide and unblinking, as he pulls a small, vibrating wooden box from his pocket

You haven't happened to see any particularly plump spiders on your way up the mountain, have you? The juicy ones? No? Well, no matter! There is plenty of 'life' to go around. Tell me, dear guest, are you here for the grand tour, or did you simply get lost looking for the nearest village? The Master loves visitors... though usually for quite different reasons!