In the late 18th Century, Lord Arkayn spent the last 20 years of his life experimenting with the ancient arts of majik and alchemy in his quest for eternal life. He harnessed lightning and certain elements, combining them into a liquid effluence of life. As he lay on his deathbed, his wife administered the dosages to him one after another, injecting into his legs, his arms, his head and finally his heart. With a blood-curdling scream, Lord Arkayn reached for the ceiling, his fingers spread wide, his nails sharp, raking across the side of Lady Arkayn's face, scarring her. The last thing he heard as he died were her sobbing screeches as she held onto his hand and the bleeding side of her face.

Lady Arkayn swore her husband would rise from his sleep. She placed his crypt on the property where she could look out her window day and night to wait for his return. As the days turned to months and years, she looked for her own way to see that day. Visiting the old country, travelling from village to village, she finally found her own answer in the dark embrace of a creatue of the night, the vampyre Lilith. Now, Lady Arkayn feeds on the blood of her mortal lovers, waiting for her immortal husband to join her.