Bordeaux pursed his lips and looked back the way he had come, the black and white steps trailing down until black conquered and light penetrated as far as it could. Forgotten candelabra stood soldier silent in the four corners of the landing, ancient tallow dripping from their vine-like arms. One such candelabrum had become the inverted perch for a colony of bats that squalled affectionately to Bordeaux’s caressing claw.
“My pretty little things,” he whispered.
Of all the residents that dwell within Tenebrae Manor, Bordeaux is the closest one might hazard to label as protagonist. Looked upon as a master of affairs and servant to the castle’s concord, he casts a world-weary figure of despondent melancholia. Pedant to a fault, he is oft one to place the needs of others before his own. His steadfast loyalty and obedience to his station begs the notion of how a stagnant and unchanging life can lead to despair.