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Even in whispered tones, his voice was full and rich, born to power. That voice, the long hair, and the incessant energy had been the qualities that had drawn his sire to Montrovant in the first place. Montrovant was tall, slender build and the ripple of muscle. He moved with uncanny swiftness and was the strongest (and eldest) of Claudius Euginio surviving progeny, but for sheer audacity and disregard of reality, he mocked that ancestry each moment of his existence.
According to his sire, Montrovant had always been too arrogant. It was a matter of age, and of maturity in the blood. He was not young, nor was he weak, but he lacked the discipline that would lead him into latter centuries. There were protocols for every occasion, deceptions that had to be scrupulously maintained. Montrovant recognized all of this, but he rarely acknowledged it. According to Euginio, he lacked the plain common sense. But it was, of course, part of his appeal.