[Dracula's hordes have just barely begun to touch the countryside, making their way across to reach all the major cities. Yet, something has roused him early, earlier than anticipated, and he supposes that stories and prophecies are more like guidelines than a promise anyway. The faces waiting for him when he leaves his coffin are not who he needs, and he does not escape unscathed.
And so it is, just a few days out of reaching Gresit, Sypha and the remainder of her Speaker tribe are traveling blessedly during the day, the afternoon late and the sun having long since warmed away any frost on the ground.
Off the main road, Alucard has collapsed off to the side, hissing between his teeth as he slowly pulls out a silver blade from between his ribs. Next to him is a small, bloodied pile of other weapons he's pulled out from his body. The silver burns, and whatever else is on it or in it is keeping him from healing.
This won't do, and he certainly doesn't have the time to be dealing with it. Alucard squeezes his eyes shut, trying to reach back to a silver barbed stake that's been shoved into his shoulder blade.]
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And so it is, just a few days out of reaching Gresit, Sypha and the remainder of her Speaker tribe are traveling blessedly during the day, the afternoon late and the sun having long since warmed away any frost on the ground.
Off the main road, Alucard has collapsed off to the side, hissing between his teeth as he slowly pulls out a silver blade from between his ribs. Next to him is a small, bloodied pile of other weapons he's pulled out from his body. The silver burns, and whatever else is on it or in it is keeping him from healing.
This won't do, and he certainly doesn't have the time to be dealing with it. Alucard squeezes his eyes shut, trying to reach back to a silver barbed stake that's been shoved into his shoulder blade.]