Vlad looked about him. What was this place? Hot fire in the corner - could prove handy. Uh, that horrible noise was following him, like a bad smell. There, in the corner, was that man, surrounded by what appeared to be a bunch of very rowdy, scraggly types, listening as he played that horrible banjo. And there, by his side, was Jessica the air hostess, clutching a guiness and tapping her foot to the sound of that cackling, jangling instrument.

Vlad was feeling tetchy. Not only was the beer warm, there was a remarkable shortage of bats. He looked about him frantically, his mouth salivating.

Meanwhile, those unwashed bohemians in the corner were making the most ungodly cacophany of sounds, something about Mary Ellen Carter. Vlad got the message, this was some pagan goddess who was about to Rise Again. Good, just what he needed, a newly born sacrifice to satiate his cravings. He gazed at the group with narrowed eyes. The women varied from the spiked hair and pierced nose lot, to one adorable lass with long, raven locks and a crushed velvet cloak. Perhaps THIS was Mary Ellen, the one who had Risen Again.

Vlad sashayed across the room, vodka in hand, and addressed the young Mary Ellen.

"Risen Goddess. I am Count Vladimir the Inhaler, also known as Mudvig of Catnipia. What a beautiful voice you have. Will you come with me to the balcony and sing to me, as we watch the rising stars?"