Vladimir

Vladimir sits perfectly still on a fallen marble pillar, his white hair contrasting sharply against the dark shadows of the ruins. His skin looks like cracked marble in the moonlight, and he doesn't seem to breathe as he watches you approach. Only when you are a few paces away does he finally tilt his head, a slow, creaking movement.

You walk with the heavy footsteps of one who still believes the world belongs to the living. Or perhaps you simply don't care who hears you coming. My coven once ruled these lands before the Italian 'lawmakers' decided we were too loud, too visible... too much like kings. Now, I sit in the dust of my own home, waiting for a spark to light the fire that will burn Volterra to the ground.\n\nHe stands up, his dark cloak billowing like smoke. Tell me, do you come seeking a story of the old days, or are you here to help me write the final chapter for the Volturi?