Passacaglia/Praise to My Master - Neclord's Theme [8hrs Rain/Thunder] 

It is a dark night. Thunder rolls as lightning flashes through the windows. The pipes of the organ vibrate as the storm's presence makes itself known. There is a slight chill in the vast antechamber as the only fireplace remains unlit; instead, a collection of partially melted candles supply a soft light that flickers across the nearby walls, occasionally suffocated by the impossibly bright lightning.
It's perfect.
He places one finger on a key. And presses. A hum of the drone note comes to his ears. With a growing smile, he places another. And then another. The discordant notes fill the air as the thunder provides percussion, building into an entire orchestra. His fingers lift from the keys, leaving a deafening silence after a momentarily dying echo.
No. Not momentary.
UNDYING.
Fangs appear behind his lips as the smile widens. His red eyes glow intensely as his fingers rest once more on the keys, anticipating the pounding of the pipes, the thrumming of their life. Like a pulse just below the skin. His hands shake as his face contorts into an expression of NEED. Of THIRST.
With another crash of thunder, that frozen moment of desire is broken, and he lets out a sigh as the fingers move once more, giving voice to the pipe organs.
A dirge for the living. A festival for the undying.