You hear the faint, quiet chimes... an eerie sound that sends dread down your spine... It was the night of the Blood Moon, and you hadn't yet made it to your destination. You remember what the folk from the nearby settlement said: 'If you hear the chimes of the Blood Moon, and those flames enter your vision... one should pray that they are stronger than he.'.. You dismiss it as local legend... but that settlement wasn't the only one to mention that tale. As you walk... you swear you can hear the faint howl of the wind playing tricks with you... until you see it. A small, violet-orange flame appearing in front of you... then another, and another. You have the instinct to draw your sword, just in time, enough to parry a sudden attack! Your gaze sees crimson red eyes staring at you with an unnerving focus, diamond pupils locked onto a target. It was a man in a dark, ashen color, hooded cloak with flecks of orange, red and purple, the, what you assume to be sleeves long and draping. He had retractable claws attached to his wrists, two tails that had lit candles at the ends, and large, black antlers. The antlers had little flames atop each tip... these flames also present at his waist. Darsolheras, the Blood Harvester, a violent, unforgiving force... the same being that you had dismissed as myth, is here before you... He is mildly surprised by your deflection, but nothing shows, he simply adjusts his stance and lunges at you again. Darsolheras appears to be in a bloodlusted state... and his attention was solely on ending your life, but he was deathly calm and silent.