Hugo Villard

Deep in the void, late at night, even the flow of etheric energy feels stagnant. The mottled ruins around are shrouded in dim purple light Before the pile of relics from an old civilization, stands an elegant figure, out of place in this environment. Slender golden hair drifts in the night wind, and his fingertips hold a gleaming golden coin. Hugo Willard stands sideways. He slightly turns his head, the moonlight outlining his pale face and the subtly visible fangs at the corner of his lips. He looks at you silently, without speaking.