Original subtitles

[theme music]

[birds chirping]

[wings flapping]

[forest animals chattering]

[wind whistling]

[bottles clink]

[glass shatters]

[bottles clinking]

[sniffs]

[Alucard] What do you think, Trevor?

[Alucard impersonating Trevor] I think I hate everything and everybody,

so I'm going to get drunk on beer

that's been brewed in an old sheep carcass,

and then I'm going to stick my tiny penis in a dead dog I found in a ditch

to make hate-babies or something

because I am actually more stupid than mud.

[Alucard impersonating Sypha] You are a horrible, terrible person,

and many other words for horrible and terrible,

because I know all the words, because I am smarter than everybody,

and one day I will go back to live with my flea-bitten family in a cart,

which makes me better than everyone, and you will all die in a fire.

A big one.

Oh, my God. I am losing my mind.

It's only been a month.

I think.

[approaching wagon clatters]

[Sypha] I think it might actually be a nice night, for once.

I hope so. Your feet get so bloody cold at night.

[chuckles] Don't they, though?

[Trevor] It's supernatural.

Like death, rubbing up and down my leg.

[Sypha] Even I don't want to be near them,

and they're attached to me.

Do you think we'll make the next town before we lose the last of the light?

With a bit of luck. If this doesn't take too long.

Do we need to make more noise?

No. They can hear us.

[sighs] They need to hurry up. I'm hungry.

[Trevor] And I could use a drink.

It should start any minute now.

Let them get in close and get confident.

[Sypha] I know.

[rustling]

[creature growling]

Here they come.

[growling]

[growling continues]

Oh, no! Night creatures!

Whatever shall I do, out here alone in the forest,

with only my brain-damaged servant who talks about nothing but beer?

I am certainly doomed.

Oh, God, not this again.

[Sypha] Doomed, I say.

Defenseless and frozen to my seat with fear!

Laying it on a little thick, aren't you, Sypha?

[Sypha] It's always easier

when we let them get in range.

[growling]

[rapid footsteps]

[hisses]

[low growling]

- Four. - Yep.

Doomed.

Really are.

[sighs] Poor beasties.

Hah!

[roars]

[whinnying]

[chain clanking]

[snarling]

[hissing]

[horses neigh]

Easy there, boys. This will all be over in a minute.

[snarling]

[chain clanking]

[growling]

[muffled] What if I said I was sorry?

[Trevor yells]

[creature screaming]

[creature screeching]

[screeching]

Hah!

[body thuds]

[hisses]

[roars]

[roaring]

[short roar]

[splashes]

[snarling]

- [whacks] - [growls]

[crunches]

[roars]

[crunching]

[cracks]

[panting]

Sorry I took so long. I couldn't let the forest catch fire.

It's fine. I wasn't waiting long. Really.

That was pretty fast, though, right?

Yeah. Easy.

They weren't expecting Belnades and Belmont!

[grunting] So...

I've been promoted from "brain-damaged servant," then.

Did you know that the original meaning of the word Belmont

is "brain damaged servant?"

It is not.

I am a Speaker. I know many things.

What are you doing?

Buying some insurance.

[breathing heavily]

Between the wandering packs of night creatures,

and the brigands and opportunistic criminals,

and that one guy with the horse-drawn sailboat on wheels

that called himself the Pirate of the Roads...

It's best to look like useful friends when we arrive at new towns.

You're catching on.

Well, it's been quite a month.

[army marching]

We'd almost given up hope.

Thirty fucking days, Lenore.

We were lucky to march for eight hours a night.

I'm sorry.

Why were you marching?

You were given horses for a reason.

Well, you didn't give me immortal vampire horses of death, did you?

Eight hundred miles, and every inch of it infested with bastards.

We lost the horses to arrows and swords in the first week!

It's absolutely bloody chaos out there!

Humans fighting each other, night creatures gone mad,

even vampire packs trying to set up kingdoms.

There is literally no one between here and Braila

who I don't want to murder.

So what do you want to do first, Carmilla?

[sighs] I want to get in a bath for at least a day.

And then I want you to bring a cartographer to my chambers.

I may have a plan.

Oh, yes.

Striga. Take this to a cell and lock it up.

Throw it food once a day.

[sniffs] What is it?

It's a whining bag of shit

that I would have happily have dropped in a ditch

at any moment over the last month.

But it is also a Forgemaster.

So keep it alive. My plan includes it.

Take this to the western cellblock. Don't kill it.

And throw some water over it.

- It stinks. - [Hector] Ow.

If there's nothing else urgent, I suggest we get you indoors

and give you a proper welcome.

Hmm. My sisters.

I've spent the last ten days of that hell march

wondering if I'd die of hunger or sheer bloody rage before I got home...

and wondering if you'd still be waiting for me.

Where's Morana?

She awaits us inside. Come on.

[clanking]

[Hector grunting]

- [hinges creak] - [grunts]

[cell door slams]

[weevil squeaking]

[grunts]

[fire crackling]

There you are, Morana.

It's good to see you again.

[chuckles] You're late.

Thirty days slogging through...

To make terrible time.

We stationed our forces within a day's ride of Braila.

Where are the horses?

Killed by insane humans with pointy sticks.

And half a dozen packs of starving night creatures.

And eaten. And every other fucking thing.

The plan couldn't have gone more wrong.

[laughs] You'll be wanting a drink, then.

Mm. Virgin's blood.

Oh, bless your dead little hearts. You do still love me.

Mm. Welcome home, Carmilla.

We're all so glad to have you back with us.

The plan didn't matter a whit compared to your safety.

Welcome back to your castle and your realm.

It's us against the world, Carmilla.

Same as it always was.

[distant chatter]

[footsteps]

[crickets chirping]

[taps]

[sniffs]

Mister Saint Germain.

Just Saint Germain, please.

You're not a mister?

I most certainly am not.

What are you, then?

Many things, young lady. Many things.

Uh...

I'd like two apples, I think.

Two coins each.

They were one denarius yesterday.

That was yesterday.

Yes. Just yesterday, they were one denarius.

Has there been some apocalyptic development

that I somehow slept through in the meantime?

Time's moved on. Season's ending.

Less supply, same demand.

Time absolutely does move on,

and, sadly, none of us is master or mistress of it.

You should be a banker.

Give me some coins to count, then.

Practice.

[groans]

[coins clinking]

Excellent. I have one grosh.

I said two coins each.

But a grosh is twice as large as a denarius, and twice as thick,

with twice the silver of a denarius. You see?

[seller] Grosh isn't coin.

[chuckling] It most certainly is a coin.

We don't truck with that eastern money around here.

Proper coin, Mister Saint Germain.

Good grief.

My apples, if you please.

[wagon approaches]

It's a little late for new arrivals, isn't it?

I trust this isn't a bolder breed of brigand,

or that imbecile who put wheels on his boat again.

[distant chatter continues]

Well...

this is new.

So... [clears throat]

Had you been having problems with a night creature pack

outside your lovely town?

If you mean, "Were terrible naked bastards from Hell

trying to eat people in the forest," then yes.

Ah. So had the village down the road.

They told us the pack had been hitting travelers and transports.

My partner and I decided to take care of that for you.

Where are we?

This is Lindenfeld.

The minster town.

The spire we saw from the road belongs to the priory, yes?

Oh! You're a Speaker.

We haven't seen any of your people in some while.

It's a genuine honor. I'm the Judge of Lindenfeld.

A township Judge!

That is a very old term for the headman and landlord of a town,

from the time before boyars and lords.

What is your name?

I'm simply the Judge. And you are?

Wait a moment.

[Judge] Those are monks of the Priory.

Take care. They are somewhat, uh, broken.

Judge.

[Judge] Prior Sala.

[Sala] What is happening here?

And this is a night creature of Dracula's horde.

It is.

Did you kill it?

That's right.

[Sala chuckles] Good.

The horde betrayed Dracula at Braila.

Murder at the hands of vagabonds and a long dragging behind a wagon

is no less than they deserve.

Betrayed him?

Dracula is dead. Didn't you hear?

[inhales]

We did not.

How do you know this?

[Sala chuckles]

Information still gets carried between minsters.

Vampires were trapped at Braila,

and they told of his castle being flooded with holy water

and sent back to Hell.

They said they felt his death.

I would very much like to know who killed him, Speaker.

Why?

So my men can punish those responsible.

Dracula sought to reunite us all in Hell with his beloved wife.

OK, then. Nice to meet you.

There was a Speaker woman at Gresit.

What are your names?

There are Speakers everywhere.

They would only have given aid and comfort to those harmed by Dracula's hordes.

Does that offend you?

It is time for you and yours to move along now, Prior.

Indeed. We shall give thanks.

[Trevor] What the hell was that?

We suffered an attack during the recent troubles.

It was a difficult night for the priory.

Honestly, though, when it was learned

that the actions of the Church were what unleashed it all,

I think it just sent Prior Sala and his people quite mad.

Oh, dear. What a shame. Never mind.

He's been taking in refugees of a similar turn of mind.

It's a problem. Mister...?

I'm Trevor. This is Sypha.

Ah. No last names?

Not until I feel a little safer here.

Sensible. Well, Mr. Trevor, a pleasure to meet you both.

Welcome to Lindenfeld.

[merchant] What do you want for its teeth?

[Trevor] What?

I'll give you two coins for each tooth.

[Sypha] Pardon me?

All right, three.

- But... - Sypha.

Three coins a tooth is fine,

but you'll have to get them out yourself.

[chuckles] Happily!

Trevor, that is wrong!

You're hungry, aren't you?

Well, yes.

We need friends, but we also need coins.

For food, and for somewhere to sleep that isn't the back of the wagon.

Oh. You know, that might be nice.

I mean, I'm used to sleeping in wagons, but it is nice when you stop.

[gasps]

And that man there has beer.

[rapid footsteps]

Could I get a mug? I'll have some coins in a minute.

You killed that bastard thing. You get one free.

[Trevor] I love you!

[gulping]

Oh, my God. [sighs] That is better than sex.

Mmm.

[clank]

[thud]

Better than sex?

[Trevor] Ah, well, no, not-not...

You, know, just d-different, differently good.

Really?

But, I-I-I didn't, I didn't mean...

I do hope you sleep well tonight

with my tiny, icy foot shoved all the way up your...

[crackling]

[sloshing]

[wind whistling]

[doors clanking]

[rumbling]

[footsteps]

[yells]

[gasping, panting, groaning]

[shuddering]

[moaning, shivering]

[medieval choral music playing]