Lord Drake of The Southlands. a man with black, wavy hair that reminds you faintly of pages of old books disintegrating between your wanting fingers. Dark, almost black pupils with the only colour being a fleck of light from a dim window in a long hallway. Pale, porcelain skin, like an old doll in your grandmother's closet. Trimmed, well-kept facial hair in an almost sculpted goatee with an end sharp enough to stab. He is cold, calculated, and the hardest for any scribe to deconstruct.