[h3][color=ed1c24][i]Dracul[/i][/color][/h3]

And so begins the wild hunt. A vampire accomplice to many of the town's jewelry was placed on the black board ready to be pencilled for their deeds. Find them and kill them with extreme prejudice-- A rule of thumb that Dracul would never cease to obey. His body dematerialised as if he was the shadows himself only for him to be found once again among the quiet, dark (presumably night?) streets of the town. His limbs moved lighter than a feather and his eyes carefully dissect the path he sees. No struggle or hustle here... No visible tracks or cracks where he treaded. It seems as though the target was not here-- if otherwise Dracul's sense of smell would tell. There was a foul stink that he could smell. A smell so pungent that he could predict where it was coming from. He walked carefully towards the direction of the smell, tracking to see whether or not it brought him to the target.