Jack stood there in the middle of the bridge. The cold January wind whipped his hair and rustled his clothes. From afar, the bandits eyed him with wary expressions.
As residents of the north, their parents had sung tales of vampires since they were young. If Jack's slightly unusual white hair or blood-red eyes weren't a giveaway, his name… Wilson. The vampire royal family. They had guarded the Aldric Mountains for centuries, imprisoning the people of Velmira and Veranthos to this backwater part of the continent. Their continued survival depended on human greed; if the two kingdoms teamed up and launched a joint attack, then the Wilsons' rule would fall.
Straightening his back, Jack addressed them from across the bridge. "My name is Jack Wilson, the new ruler of this land. I understand you have been left to your own devices thus far and therefore have no plans to punish you. But I believe you are trespassing on my property."
