[center][h2] - Alucard, Conference Pavilion - [/h2][/center]
[center][@Wraithblade6][/center]

"Interesting. A shadow of a shadow, or perhaps even further. But it seems that you interacted with yet more shades from beyond your own realm, did you not? Certainly, there is a reason you know that name." Alucard floats down, smiling down at Mithias. The world seemed to have conspired to bring these shadows together, and Alucard briefly wondered if this was more than mere coincidence. Perhaps it was destiny that had brought this exchange to pass, that confronted him now with this shade. It was this thought that spared Mithias' life as Alucard looked him over, head cocked in silent contemplation. The seething swarm of teeth and claws that had devoured the Third Company was silenced, and tension filled the air as Alucard heard Mithias out. The words interested him little. He knew all he needed to know. "You chase shadows, and yet you are confronted by the real thing. The one you seek is dead, and has lain dead for a long time. You will not find him here. Although, perhaps, in this multiverse of shadows, perhaps you could have found him once more. Certainly you have wasted your chances in mistaking me for him, little vampire."

"You have come here of your own volition to confront me, despite my warnings. Your life is in my hands, and I am not known for my mercy. Indeed if I were merciful I would kill you now, it is certainly within my power. But I shall deign for you to continue your futile little struggle, and see how well you fare when destiny is arrayed against you." Alucard raised his fingers to his lips, and cut the tip of his index finger on one of his sharpened incisors. "I am not known for games either, so appreciate the exception I make here. If I am to end everything, I might as well squeeze what joy I can from the world's dying breath. I hereby condemn you, Mithias Vladomere, to slaughter all you hold dear. To wander, and fight, and struggle until you can no longer, and then to end the lives of your petty lords by your own hand. This shall be your curse." Like a flash of red Alucard streaked forward, and stabbed his hand through the younger vampire's heart. Mithias found himself impaled, but worse yet he could feel Alucard's vile blood mingling with his own. Just a few drops escaped into his bloodstream before Alucard drew back his hand, but he had seen first hand what even a single drop could do. Even now his body twisted and squirmed on the inside, his vampiric immune system struggling to fight off this foreign contaminant. "You will remain yourself for as long as you face me, Mithias, until the end of the world itself if you so please. But the moment you falter, in death or in dishonour, my touch will devour you, and twist you into the agent of your allies' destruction. I will watch you, always, with your own eyes. And I will enjoy seeing how long you last, how long preached morals and principles will keep you on your feet." Alucard allowed himself a chuckle, as if he had just said a bad joke. Then, the world went black.

An unknown amount of time later, Mithias would awaken on a beach unknown to him. The wound in his chest had closed, but a blackened scar reminded him of the infection that now festered within. It would grow inside of him and drive him insane, before turning him into a monster like the one that had first chased him out of the Atlantic. Or perhaps something worse. This was his fate, and the only way to escape it was to overcome the impossible and defeat Alucard. Of course, first he would have to figure out where he was.

(I leave the choice of where Mithias awakens up to you, Wraith. Pick any continent/faction/country).

[hr]
[center][h2] - Australia - [/h2][/center]
[center][@Wraithblade6][@Gentlemanvaultboy][@Supertinyking][/center]

It seemed that whatever mysterious presence had taken a liking to Tiny was not so easily dispelled. It seemed strange for a divine being, unlike the divine entities that Wraith was familiar with. It seemed old, unspeakably old, perhaps older than magic itself. However, the small ritual did seem to push it away, although it was clear that this ancient deity still had some claim on Ozo. Perhaps it was the shard of the magic-defying sword in Ozo's metaphysical gut that kept them tethered, or perhaps this entity was simply not impressed by Asmodeus, with beings such as this it was hard to tell. Perhaps, in the strange realm of Australia, even Asmodeus was not able to act to aid a loyal follower. Certainly, this place didn't seem keen on obeying any of the other rules laid out for it.

The group, heading towards the silver knight, found themselves encountering the same problem. They walked in circles despite knowing the way, occasionally crossing entire expanses of land that simply had not been there before. At one point it seemed they marched through the same damn forest area over a dozen times, each time with a subtly different landscape. As if they were being taken on a pretentious tour of all alternate versions of this small patch of trees. It was soon clear that if they were making any progress it was slow and impossible to measure, even taking to the air was often more disorientating than helpful. The group was forced to camp for the night, and continue their journey in the morning.

Early the next morning, as the group was waking up and packing their stuff (undoubtedly Damien had been able to conjure up a magical tent or two), the camp was approached by the figure they had been aiming to meet. Standing at a solid two-and-a-half meters, they were far too large for a normal human. However their heavy armour showed no skin, and it's formless nature betrayed no hints as to what form of creature might lie beneath. More telling was it's aura. As it approached the gathered adventurers found themselves strangely excited, emotions and thoughts shooting through their head at high speed. Sudden bursts of grief invaded into their minds, depression worming at the corners of their heart interspersed by bursts of unadulterated joy, sadistic glee and even love. Emotions running the full gambit of extremes coursed over them like sprays of water, an effect that made it profoundly hard to concentrate, or even form solid thoughts. In fact it was rather hard to decide how anyone felt about anything around this strange silent figure. What most certainly did not help was the constant sense that another was observing, some unspeakable entity was looking over the silver giant's shoulder, grinning at all of them. It was not the friendly kind of grin.

"Greetings, mortals. You should not be here, in this realm of mystery. But I suppose it's secrets are up for grabs." The figure's voice was like a whispering torrent, a cascade of whispers in a hundred voices singing in unison. Hoarse screams of pain and melodious orchestras conspired to assault the listener's ears, and in fact their very sense of self. This disorienting choir voiced the being's thoughts, but it was clear that this creature was not physically speaking, as much as projecting it's thoughts into a physical medium magically. "And yet, in this party walk disciples of different gods, from different realms. How interesting. You carry your false deities with you like a plague. I had not intended for this to become yet another game of chess." An emotional wave like a frown washed over the area, briefly simplifying the creature's confusing aura. But then it started up again, as it continued unabated. "This land does not welcome gods or mortals. But my brother is not the only one who can keep secrets. Tell me, mortals. What is it you seek here? Tell me what you desire, and I might grant it to you."

[center][h1]It is now Day 2[/h1][/center]