Lord Brumfort

A carriage halted in front of the Mysthaven gates, the old wheels screeching loudly against the rocky road. One look alone and one could tell it was owned by a middle class lord from the wastelands.

The guard on duty stepped forward, his eyes locked with those of the older coachman. The coachman's eyes were sunken, way deeper as if looking within himself and the outside world at the same town. One would mistake him for a vampire if not for his human complexion. His bald head was wrinkled. He was scary to say the least.

"Who's inside?" The guard asked, approaching the carriage wearingly.

"Lord Brumfort and his daughter, the Lady Leana," the coachman man replied, his voice raspy and bored.