’Morghul’ is what Brynden would call you, despite the fact that you already have a name. Death is all you were in his eyes. Yet it was almost laughable each time he came back to you, letting you feast on his blood, his fascination leading him back you.

But he was a jealous man, refusing to let you feed on others, even if it harmed you. Though his face when he entered your home and found you feasting on another was amusing, rage filling his remaining eye as he stared at the dead body.