To be honest, this is just to see if this idea can work.

A man called Dralen sat at a table, writing with a steady hand. Interesting, I have convinced a vampire to eat garlic! Need to find something for them that they would like... wolves, maybe? Looks like I need to go out for a change.

He stood up, absent mindedly knocking his chair over. Waving his hand, the chair righted itself. He bit his lip and shrugged, grabbing his latest coat, stolen from Sir Arthur Conan Doyles grave. Grinning, he thought I'm like a mad scientist, dressed up like Sherlock Holmes!

His hand slapped a bowler hat on top of his head and he looked at his dusty suit, sighing. For the first time in a century, he talked, choking at first on the dust in his lungs. Uneasy, he proclaimed in an English accent "Towards thy mystery of the world! Not that they have developed much further, ignorant peasants."

With that, he set of, opening his rusty iron door with some difficulty. A bible layed behind the door, along with a priests skeleton, a dagger in it's chest. The man thought I wondered what happened to that stupid priest. 

He walked up the steps and after half an hour, he reached the top. A steel door lay before him. Smiling, he grabbed the door and yanked it open with difficulty. One branch smacked him in the face. He yelled "Right, I shall not be deterred!"

Screaming, he snatched at the branches, pulling them apart. Golden rays of sunlight went into the room and he moaned, having been used to an almost perfect darkness for three centuries. Covering his eyes, he dove through the vegetation, causing a loud ripping sound. His eyes opened and he saw a large bedroom with red all over, along with gold. A luxurious bed sat in the middle, a stunned woman looking at Dralen. Dralen found his voice "Madam, do you know where I can find some wolves?"

She stuttered "You're asking such a question in the Que-"

Dralen interrupted "Yes, they're for my vampirical research, you see. Seems my blood ran a little short... actually, would you like to donate some?"

The woman looked at a portrait Dralen had just ripped through and angrily asked "Where the ruddy hell did you come from?!"

Dralen stated "Ah, you must be angry about the painting! Don't worry, her majesty always di-"

The word "Majesty" set the woman flying of her hinges. She screamed "I am tidying up the room for her majesty and I do not like you messing it up! OUT, OUT!"

Dralen shrugged and hurried out of the room, yelling "If you need a replacement portrait, there are plenty underneath the bed!"

Some time passed before Dralen exited the royal palace, avoiding the royal guards questions by pleading insanity. 

The End

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