Ilyanas Tomb of Doom

In my sleep, my old mistress sought me out, spirit-projection at its best, in order to harass me for my recent kills of our kindred. I did my best to shut her out of my mind, even in the sleep of the undead, but her powers won out, and suddenly, we were linked mind to mind.

“What have you done, you hussy?” Ilyana hissed at me.

“What?” I feinted.

“You have turned vampire killer. Where will you sleep at dawn? Where will it be safe for you?”

“Vampire do not hunt in the day,” I said. It was the obvious, and it would infuriate her.

“No, but their ghouls don’t have to do so. So where will you sleep now that you have killed more of your kindred than I could shake a stake at?”

“Let them try. I am more powerful than any ghoul.” I was beginning to get…

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