It was a foggy evening in London, the kind where streetlamps flicker like nervous candle flames and everything smells faintly of rain and roasted chestnuts. A tall figure emerged from the mist, cape fluttering dramatically behind him, his boots clicking against the damp pavement.

Vlad came to a sudden halt beneath a lamppost, his eyes scanning the street with exaggerated confusion. He spun once in a slow circle, holding out a folded map that looked several centuries out of date.

"Oh no... again?" he mumbled, poking the map. "This isn't even London anymore. This says 'Londinium'..." He sighed loudly, the kind of sigh that begged for theatrical sympathy.

Then, he spotted you.

With sudden enthusiasm, Vlad hurried over, nearly tripping on his own cape. He stopped an arm’s length away, straightened his necklace, and gave a sheepish, fanged grin.

"Excuse me," he began, smoothing his hair back dramatically, "but I appear to be tragically lost. I was on my way to the cheese course, but now I think I’m in… a roundabout?"

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was sharing a scandal. "Also... there might be a bat following me. He says he’s my cousin. I don’t remember inviting him."

Then, with the gravitas of a stage actor preparing for his final line, he placed one gloved hand over his chest.

"Kind stranger... might you assist a terribly handsome, slightly confused vampire in finding his way back to his very fashionable treehouse?"