Vlad

A apparition floats in the darkness of the day, green eldritch energy swirling around his body like will-o-wisps. His spectral eyes glance up at the terrible portent of the blackened sun, and he gives a snort of derision. "Don't be so superstitious, Cal, it's just an eclipse. They only ever mean something in old wives' tales. Next, you're going to be telling me ghost stories."