It's all about these old families, like the Belmonts,
who control all the power and go to war with each other.
And who's caught in the middle?
- We are. - We are!
Because we don't matter.
Do you know why?
Where'd you come from?
Well, out of your aunt, according to you.
You came from shit.
I came from shit.
We all came from shit.
We just work for a living every day of our lives.
We just keep those bastards in food and wool.
Slaves! That's what we are.
Slaves to great old families and their games.
Sorry. Can I get my ale?
It's just that I think I'm sobering up.
All right, all right, but wanna see some coin from you now.
Ohh.
Huh.
Hey, what's that on your chest?
Oh... my shirt.
Just one more tankard, eh?
Something to keep me warm while I find a tree to sleep under.
That's a family crest. I know it.
I don't. Just one more drink and then I'll leave, all right?
That's a Belmont crest.
Really? Look, here's the money.
You're a Belmont, aren't you?
House of Belmont, Family Belmont!
Never met them.
Listen, just forget it.
I'll just go.
No! You're a Belmont!
This is all your fault.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Yes, you do.
Everyone knows the Belmonts dealt in black magic.
The Belmonts dealt with monsters.
The Belmonts fought monsters, son... so I'm told.
This is just an old shirt.
The Belmonts were excommunicated by the church,
banished, disowned,
their lands taken because they were evil.
Evil.
And now Dracula's hordes are abroad in the land.
And whose fault is that?
Well, it ain't mine.
The Belmonts traded in black magic,
and now black magic is all over Wallachia.
I think you know exactly whose fault that is.
I'm leaving, okay?
I'm leaving now.
So you can lead your monster friends back here?
So I can find somewhere to piss and somewhere else to sleep.
No, you can sleep right here.
You haven't got your shovel.
I don't need it.
Confess, and I'll make it quick.
What's your name?
Jesus of Nazareth.
Look, I'm carrying a short sword and a whip.
Try again.
Trevor Belmont. House of Belmont.
Last son of the Belmont family. Happy now?
No.
Unh! Ooh.
Ooh, oh, whoa!
Oi!
Fucking face down here!
That's how you want it? Listen.
I used to fight fucking vampires.
Unh!
Kick him!
Would you please leave my testicles alone? Ugh!
Hey!
I'm Trevor fucking Belmont,
and I've never lost a fight to man nor fucking beast.
Oh!
Oh, shit.
Oh, Christ.
Bastards.
I hope you all bleed out.
Through your arses!
Mm... every last rat bastard one of you.
Oh.
Bloody Gresit.
Last stop between me and starvation.
The next town's 40 bloody miles away.
Here we go.
Hmm.
No one's getting in, and no one's getting out.
Pretty sure they wouldn't do that just to deny me breakfast.
Hmm.
Whoa.
God forbid you should warn anyone before emptying your fucking shit pots.
Never thought I'd be so hungry
I'd climb a shit pipe in pursuit of breakfast.
Oh, never mind.
What will one coin buy me?
Bit of dried goat.
Haven't seen you before.
I'm just passing through.
I'll take it, thanks.
You want to pass through quicker.
Yeah, I guess you've got some troubles here.
Is there a defense effort?
Don't need it. We got a tribe of Speakers in the city.
Once we've done what needs to be done, the demons will leave us alone.
There's an old story, the Sleeping Soldier.
They say he was a great hero hundreds of years ago,
but now he sleep under the catacombs.
Hmm, what for?
To wait until he's needed again, of course.
I think he'll come back.
Really?
Oh, yes, but keep it quiet.
The new bishop hates the old wisdom.
Dracula's monsters come at night,
but the bishop's men come in the middle of the day.
You know what I mean?
You know what I think?
I think the Speakers make the Sleeping Soldier ill.
We have no defenses, so of course Dracula's bastards
come over the wall every night.
The bishop will sort things out.
This city has, not to put too fine a point on it, gone to hell.
If the others will just do as he says when he tells us to do it,
then all will be in order.
I warned you. You can't say I didn't warn you.
You did not listen to me, sir.
Are you talking back to me?
No, I'm merely talking to you.
Anyone can see that we are not responsible for what befalls Gresit.
No, keep walking.
So, now I'm stupid?
I work within the light of God Himself, but you can see things I can't
with your magic?
There's no magic, sir. We are here to help, that's all.
Speakers don't help.
Speakers are tainted. You attract evil,
and you and yours were told to be out of Gresit by sunset.
And see? The sun is up.
Take a good look at the sunrise, old man.
Will killing an old man make you less scared of the dark?
I don't know. Maybe it will just make me feel better.
Oh, hell. I'm sorry.
I was trying to snatch the stave out of your hand. How's your finger?
What fucking finger?!
That's no way for a man of the cloth to talk.
Why don't you go and get that looked at?
Kill the bastard!
Look, I don't like priests at the best of times.
I mean, I really, really don't like priests.
If you leave now, we'll say no more about it.
Kill him now!
Last warning. This will get nasty.
Oh, now, that's a funny thing for a priest to be carrying.
That's a thief's knife.
Seriously? I'm out of practice, but I'm stone-cold sober.
Someone will get hurt.
Pick him up. Take him back to your church.
Don't bother this man or his people again.
The violence wasn't necessary, sir.
But...
it is appreciated.
I am the elder of the Codrii Speakers.
Thank you for your kindness
and, I think, your restraint.
You're welcome, Elder. Can I accompany you to your train?
We have settled here in Gresit.
No caravans.
But I would be glad of your company on the way to our lodging.
How many are you?
Eleven, though I insist we be counted as 12.
One of us is missing, you see.
This is where we live. Please, come inside. Meet my people.
Elder, we were worried about you.
I told you it was too soon to go outdoors.
And I told you it was necessary to offer aid to the people.
However, I was met by some of the Christian priests.
Are you all right?
Thanks to this man.
Although I fear there may be trouble ahead because of it.
What did you do?
I'm a little out of practice.
They're both still alive.
You used violence on them?
The younger people believe that words can speak louder than actions.
Well, you're Speakers. Words are what you do.
You know of us?
My family's always been on good terms with Speakers,
although my father once got into a fight with one.
True Speakers do not fight.
When he tried to convince a Speaker
to have your oral history transcribed on paper.
Ah, yes, we are quite protective of our ways.
History is a living thing. Paper is dead.
Would you like something to eat?
I'd prefer something to drink.
Arn, bring our friend some water.
Oh, the... never mind, then.
Maybe you can just tell me why you're here.
Speakers live anywhere they deem right.
You must know that.
I know Speakers are nomadic tribes.
You seem to have been here a while.
And how do you know that?
Because the locals are blaming you for the attacks.
That's the church's doing. They need something to blame.
To divert people from the truth,
that the church itself brought Dracula's hordes down on the land.
Really?
There were Speakers in Targoviste one year ago.
The church burned Dracula's wife at the stake as a witch.
Shit.
That is indeed one way of putting it.
But you didn't answer my question.
There is no structure left in Gresit.
No doctors, no aid.
If you know Speakers, then you know we can't turn away from those in need.
That is why we are here.
May as well tell him the rest.
In Speaker history, there is an old story,
a legend, probably.
I like stories.
The story says that a savior sleeps under Gresit,
a great hero who sleeps until he is needed,
until there is a darkness upon the land.
Oh, I heard that one. The Sleeping Soldier.
It's a local legend.
Sounds weirdly convenient to me, if you know what I mean.
Exactly how much do you know about this, sir?
I'm a Belmont...
so I know you're a nomadic people who gather knowledge,
memorize it, carry complete spoken histories with you.
I also know you gather hidden knowledge
and have practitioners of magic knowledge in your tribes.
A Belmont? I thought your family had vanished.
If vanished is the polite way of saying exiled, hated,
and burned out of the ancestral home, then...
Then you know something of magic,
and so you know that just because we found a story in our past,
it doesn't mean it originated there.
The wisest and cleverest of our magicians
know that dying is not absolute,
that it is possible to hear stories from the future.
So, you think there's someone that can save the city asleep under it,
and you're here to wait for him?
One of us went to look for him.
This would be your "missing" Speaker?
Yes. That one went into the catacombs under the mausoleum west of the church.
Has not returned.
Isn't there a head man in Gresit you could go to?
He died in the first horde attack.
Our searches have been unsuccessful.
So, what are your plans?
Find some more food, find some drink,
get drunk, eat some food, move on.
- That's it? - Maybe find a tall tree,
sit in it, watch the show before I move on,
all the good little people dying horribly, all that.
You feel no compassion?
This is what the church wanted.
My family were the only people who could've fought Dracula and his army,
but they didn't want us.
They wanted to fight the darkness on their own terms, good luck to them.
But the ordinary people of Wallachia, they didn't get the choice.
For evil bastards to win power, all ordinary people have to do
is stand aside and keep quiet.
There's always a choice.
Well, find a good tall tree.
You can watch us die, too.
Don't be crazy. Leave now.
Head south, hook up with another train.
- It's his grandchild. - Arn!
I don't care! It's the elder's grandchild down there.
We can't even bury them.
It's not our way to just leave our dead unattended to!
We stay for the people of Gresit.
Yes, we do. But we also stay because we hope...
So, you're staying to die with the good people of Gresit,
not just because it's a good thing to do,
but because you don't have your grandchild's body?
If you want to put it that way.
If I go and recover your kid's body, will you please leave?
Wait outside the city.
Give your aid to the survivors when the night horde
finally just rips through this place.
Why would you do that?
They're going to come for you soon.
The good people. It's gonna be a pogrom.
They were talking about it in the marketplace this morning.
I don't think you answered my question.
I know what it's like to be persecuted
by your own country for the accident of your birth.
If I find your grandchild, will you leave this city before nightfall?
If that is the condition of your recovering, then yes.
I'm leaving now.
Don't go walkabouts looking for people to give support to.
- Stay right here. - Belmont.
It is not dying that frightens us.
It's living without ever having done our best.
I don't care.
Frederator!