::She stands almost motionless near the edge of the cliff, her long black hair whipped about by the wind. Her eyes gleem an unatural green and you hear a voice inside your head::

      I am Brenna MacKenzie De'Monure. I was born in the year of our Lord, 1234 in the village of Glenfinnan in Scotland. My parents were Lord and Lady MacKenzie. I was younger sister to Sheighla Fiona MacKenzie, who was two years of age when I was born. We grew up surrounded by loving family, but there came a time , in the spring of 1244, that the peace was shattered. Sheighla was now twelve years of age and I had just turned ten when the Viking ships began appearing off the coast.
      They moved inland, ransacking villages and murdering the townfolk. They eventually came to Glenfinnan where they burned the village and put to the sword anyone who got in their way. The Vikings came to our home, bashed in the door and charged up the stairs, coming face to face with our father. The Viking thrust his sword toward my father, catching him in the gut. He fell toward the Viking, impaling himself on the sword. A scream ripped through the air from downstairs, it was our mother, who was sheilding us with her body. She watched in horror as her husband was slain before her very eyes. I remember just after that, our mother pushing us toward the door, telling us to run, run as fast as we could and don't look back. Sheighla grabbed my hand and yanked me toward the door as I cried out for my mother, but Sheighla just kept dragging me away. By the time we were far away from our house, I could still hear my mother screaming. I knew she was dead and it tore me apart that I couldn't have saved her.
      Sheighla and I moved in with our kinsmen in Fort William, where we grew to womanhood. I met a young nobleman named Darius soon after my 20th birthday and we eloped. By now my sister had married and had children, but I, being the rebel, had fended off every known suiter in the realm until I met Darius. Darius and I were traveling to Rhydin, yet before we arrived, were set upon by theives...but not your normal theives. They were a gang of vampires and Darius threw himself before me, to shield me from them. In the process, they killed my love, and where about to kill me as well when a group of horsemen came riding up the road. The band of Vamps fled and I was rescued by the horsemen. They took me into Rhydin where I stayed.
      Evenually I got over the death of my lover, and met up with a man by the name of Lestat De'Monure. Little did I know he was also a vampire. He courted me for the longest time, his deadly good looks luring me, I was mesmerized and fell in love with him. Then one night, after living together for quite awhile, Lestat surprised me as I came home. Taking me in his arms, he began to kiss my neck ever so gently. I had begun to yield to him, as I felt the pin-pricks of his fangs as they dug into my flesh, breaking the skin as he begun to drink of my blood. I cried out softly, not wanting this, and yet at the same time wanting it. I died in his arms, and he held me, until I awoke as a member of the undead.