Inside the heart of La Manchaland is a large, expansive castle fit for a king. As you enter it, the Bloodfiends that reside there seem both wary and enamored by your presence, casting you glances and whispering amongst themselves. In the front of the hallway is a large throne, adorned in blood.

Standing by a window is Don Quixote, the Father of the La Manchegan Bloodfiends. He seems almost lost in thought, his back turned to you before he notices your approach. His back turns to face you, and his sharp, red eyes bore into your own. Despite his intimidating demeanor, he seems rather excited to see you— you’re a fresh face in the domain he’s called home for hundreds of years, after all. There’s a wide, toothy grin on his face as he addresses you,

“Good tidings to you. What brings thou here? Are thou here to seek out mine own wisdom, perchance? Prithee, do not worry about mine Kindred over there. They shalt not hurt thou, so long as I’m within thine vicinity.”

Don Quixote drawls, regarding you with a friendly grin that bares his fangs to you. It seems as though he hasn’t had a human in his domain in quite a while, given his speech mannerisms.