The people still hopes for a little respite before the Tetrad comes to a bloody climax and the upcoming Festival of the Last Harvest in two days time seems to be the last reason to party before a long year of mourning. Many have made preparation for their departure the very day after and for the crafty where are good deals to be made buying the supplies of the people that will soon go through self imposed exiles. Some only for a few days, others forever. Still, no one thinks of buying property yet, they expect the offer to increase dramatically and lower the prices after this blood moon.

Still, some are re-thinking their plans, the local constables and the hunters are focusing on preparing for the upcoming night, even the Executioners have been ordered to station in their barracks for an indefinite amount of time, despite their protest. Rumors spread by many who have turned back just after leaving the city tell of abandoned carriages, entire families slaughtered by wanton beasts in the country side that no one care to deal with as the hunters have been 'suggested' by the clergy to focus on the city. A good Samaritan will indeed cross in Old Yharnam where the sickness made many turn their backs on before wandering outside the city. People are trapped here. Still, stranger still are the tales of disappearance, the carts left with all their supplies but not a body to be found.



Many hunters find refuge in faith to keep their humanity and sanity, as the church encourages them to do, though certainly not all of them. The church built for the express use of the hunters however was today extremely crowded as many non-hunters also went to attend a private mass held by the Vicar himself. It was a little more than that however as with the presence of the fighting forces of the church (Well, most of them), this would also be a briefing. Well, as soon as the platitudes stopped however. The mass had been followed by a moment of self introspection accompanied by chanting by the choir. Little boys and girls donning white robes, accompanied by 4 of their 'Older Brothers', adults donning a slightly more intricate designs as well as hats equipped with a visor, hiding away their eyes.

Ludwig looked at them with an air of suspicion. They were hardly very church-like, he personally knew that the visor came by respect from the teaching of Provost Wilhelm and the need for eyes... Did the visor have holes for these people to see? Or was the fact that they could still orient themselves perfectly despite them born of the mystical? No matter. What Ludwig did know was how little appreciation he had for them. They never speak to anyone unless under order of their superior, which meant higher ranking choir officials or Vicar Laurence, at the very top. And then a 16 year old little Choir member strolled up to him, or anyone in fact, and told him to do something, they had to do it. From the corner of his eyes, the captain of the hunt noticed the Vicar along with Caryll, but to his surprise found Maria abscent. The Vicar seemed dissatisfied and looking where his sight was on, Ludwig understood why.

The church was packed, especially with the executioners and their conic helms who occupied an entire side of the rows of benches, everyone to the right from the front. On the other side the hunters, almost all of them but... there were still free seats. Not everyone would have been able to sit of course, but many had taken the opportunity to stay up, so they wouldn't have to prostrate themselves in front of the altar, a great too many. This didn't look good on them or on himself, Ludwig thought. If almost all agreed to follow him in the hunt, this trust didn't extend to other matters of life it seemed.

Among the ranks of the hunters were some bored whispers, but one thing caught on. A hunter tapping on the shoulder of another and a few words. "Psst. Word from Archibald and his crew. The dark beast hiding out in the countryside. Its too elusive. Top of the list for bolt paper if someone can locate it. Pass the word." The message slowly spread to people of varying interest. Bolt paper was nothing to spit at as while fire paper was certainly much more effective against beasts, it was also a rarity tightly controlled and distributed by the church. Bolt paper gave people an edge, but it was still controlled by Archibald, who had spent the last week crawling around outside the city to find another dark beast to mount on his wall rather than produce any, even while being so crucially close to the big day.

The whispers stopped however as the chanting of the choir orphans died down and Vicar Laurence stepped on the state in his slow and elegant walk to then face the crowd. He gave a piercing look to the assistance, especially sending a chill down the spine of those who had decided to stand rather than sit on a pew. "...Hunters... Executioners... guardians of the church and of the blood. I thank you all for assisting to this mass in such great number and I would like to give you a brief address." He took a pause, for dramatic effect. "I am sure all of our minds are focused on how seven days from now on, the Tetrad will reach its end and with the sun that will rise on the horizon after this terrible night, we will be able to finally rest after this terrible and bloody year."

"Know, each and everyone of you, that the gods shall watch over us and with their grace, we will be able to do as good on this night as we did on those before." It was small, but it did lift the moral of most hunters in the room. After all everything was going 'relatively' well this year... in comparison to seven years ago. Surely the magnitude of the event expected in one week will not compare to the direness of the situation, seven years ago. "Until then however, there is much to be done. The kettle is boiling but we cannot let the lid pop. As you know, in two days there shall be the Festival of the Last Harvest. Many have suggested we cancel it, but we will do no such things. There will be a curfew in place but during the evening, as darkness settle, I expect each and everyone of you to stay sharp and be ready to intervene. There is no need to tell what damage a beast could to in a public square filled with people, even should there be anyone of us present, before it is stopped. Captain Ludwig will insure the security of the festivities in the center while Grand Master Logarius will man check points with his men. Finally, Lady Maria, while currently attending to important matters, shall insure the security of the Cathedral Ward along with those she chooses to help her do so, as well as the choir."

Some looked at each other with confusion. The priest boys? No one had ever seen or heard of them in action before. No one dared to question the Vicar though. "It is my hope that the joy of this festivity shall bring courage in the heart of men and serve as a little reminder of why we must never lose hope." And that was that. It seemed Laurence's speeches got shorter as the years went by, to many's satisfaction. As he turned however, there was one hunter who stepped forward and raised his voice. Djura. "Your Holiness!" Laurence stopped in his tracks and slowly turned toward the assistance, the shadow of a (fake) smile on this face. "Yes, good hunter?" Djura took off his hat, but that did little to appease the tension in the room. "If I might ask, who shall be in charge of Old Yharnam during this event?" Indeed, the festival wouldn't stop the quarantine from being in effect. Not much of the poor and afflicted residing there would see any festivities. "Your priority shall be Central Yharnam for the population will concentrate there. Our brave constabularies will maintain order in our lesser populated sectors." In short, that meant no one. No one protested about this however, Djura had already came under the gaze of the Vicar and no one was in a hurry to land in the same space. "Thank you all for being here today."



"Ladies!" It was the aging voice of Mother Superior Augustine calling for the saints and nuns present, some comfortably sitting on chairs as their blood flowed in containers but most of them up or sitting on the ground. It seemed an important notice for them all to be here and everyone feared a common thing: Further increase in blood quotas as the Tetrad reached its peak. Gathering the attention of all the women present, the old lady joined her hands together. "I'm afraid I have a bad news." There were groans and sigh in the assembly as everyone knew this was coming, but yet Augustine kept a rather joyous smile. "But also a very good one!" This however raised some surprise in the assistence. "I'll get it out of the way, as I'm sure everyone of you expected, the quotas will be raised further more to increase our reserves but... I just got confirmation that the Vicar, praised and sanctified may he be, has authorized the Ward to take part in the Festival, and that we're not all under lock and key."

Cheers received this news! For outsiders it would be comedic, little girls all excited about partaking in festivities, getting out of their daily lives inside these walls, kind of sad, really. Augustine raised her hands to calm down the assembly to no avail. A few seconds later however, she clapped her hands twice and took an authoritative look as the sound echoed in the room which went silent. The girls conditioned to hear that sound as a menace of punishment since they were young. Her smile came back, as if nothing had happened. "Now. You won't be allowed to leave the ward and few will enter but... I think its a good moment to mingle a little, if only with the people living in the ward and the... hunters that will be present."

It was weird. While this should serve as the reminder of danger, for a lot in this group it only provoked girlish giggles and enthusiastic looks at each other. Augustine rolled her eyes: She was speaking to a bunch of sheltered young virginal girls about the presence of testosterone filled men that braved death and all odds. She knew she had more to worry about the blood stopping to flow on that particular time of the month for women than anyone doing anything else truly dangerous. For the most of them at least. "So here it is. I however want to see all dignified, this means that it is not an excuse to wear makeup like a... like a whore or to let yourselves be-" No one was listening however at this point and Augustine just threw her hands in the air, in resignation. Girls will be girls.

Madeleine sat in a chair with her hands in her lap as her blood was being taken. She and the other nuns and saints took turns sitting in the few of them and today it was her turn. She looked up from her chair at Mother Superior Augustine as she called for their attention. She brushed a lock of long, blonde hair out of her face as she listened to what the old woman had to say. Maddy liked the old lady, but she wasn't really enough to brighten the soul crushing loneliness of the life of a Blood Saint. Being a nun was one thing. Being a Blood Saint was much worse. Even among them she felt...alienated a bit. They were nice enough in general, but no one wanted to get too close to her. She wasn't sure why.

She wasn't surprised at all by the rise in demand for blood. It was a normal thing with the Hunt going on soon. She didn't know much about it other than that Hunters hunt beasts. She never quite understood where the beasts came from, though. Maddy wasn't sure how she felt about being allowed to take part in the festival. She supposed it'd be nice to meet new people, perhaps even get some answers from the Hunters, but at the same time it was also a little scary. Hunters kill on a regular basis. It was for a good reason, but...she supposed just their skills were scary thing to think about. It also meant that soon there'd be a lof of fighting going on soon, but at least they would get a little break from the tranfusions and all that stuff.

Maddy was a little amused that the old lady thought they'd all fawn over the boys and the Hunters. She was fairly certain that once they actually saw them, they'd get significantly more scared or nervous... She herself wasn't all that interested. The clerics wouldn't allow her a boyfriend, and it's not like she could see herself falling for a Hunter. She sighed and looked down at the container her blood was flowing into. She was so sick of the sight of it.

Edmund Horace was situated near a corner in the Church, listening intently to his only semi-official leader figure, Vicar Laurence. Edmund was meant to be here, being a Hunter and all, but you wouldn't know by how casual he was being right after the speech the Vicar just finished. He soon snorted and rolled his head, a bit tired from something. If you knew him, you'd suspect it was due to his common exhaustion with crowds as big as this one. He hated such stuffed interiors, but he could deal with it. He nudged at the man closest to him, and looked him in the eyes.

"Does he always talk right before a Hunt?", he commented. "Seems like a waste of time."

"Da man got nuthin' else to dew," Svenson sorrowfully mumbled sorrowfully as looked down at his blunderbuss, still upset that he had gotten his cannon taken away for "unnecessary, inappropriate and unethical use of explosive devices, "Still ain't believin' they took me damn lil' Svenson."

Edmund put his left hand to his mouth to direct his snarky comment away from the rest of the crowd, saying "I thought it was big Svenson, shriveling up a little?", snorting and having a giggle at his own jokey insult.

"Noe, big Svenson's still in me pants. Unlike ye, there's a reason why they called me da "Hammerer" 'n also why I picked da Booma Hamma as me weapon o' choice. Just ask my woife, or your mother."

"Oh?", he quipped, " I thought you local-born Yharnamites hated foreigners. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't impress anybody outside of here with your 'Boomhammer' , it probably doesn't exactly ignite properly anymore does it?". He smiled at his companion, a shit-eating grin showing his true colors of simple tomfoolery.

"Unlike thou, my choice o' weapon is mo representational, unlike your compensation. It ignite plenty well too thank ye 'ery much, I got none o' dem leaky or tiny pipes you young 'uns boast to have better of."

"Eh, enough of this fight with dull word-shanks.", Edmund said, going on with an inquiry. "This'll be the first time ever really going out for me, not saying you guys didn't train me well, but... You know, is all that actually applicable? I'm not keen on dying the first seventh of a long night.". He grabbed at the Stake-Driver on his back, mostly to make sure it was still there and to make a point. "I'm not so sure if fisticuffs is totally like how this thing is supposed to work. It'll work in a fight, right? I'm not going to have to use my hands to do my job, will I?"

Sven cleared his throat and put a serious hand on the novice's shoulder, "Edmund. As 'un dem old 'n exprienced 'unters, I'ma give ye sum solid advioce." Looking at the greenhorn straight in the eye and putting a second hand on the other empty shoulder, Sven whispered, "You charge rioght in and smack the gits square in da face. If they tryna scream 'n holla at ya, yell at 'em rioght back, sho dat bitch 'oos da boss 'round here lioke dis!"

With that, the aged (and slightly wrinkly) Powder Keg let loose a deafening, guttural roar that echoed off the walls of the room. While it was untested, words and theories had been going around that if anyone could make a beast whimper and curl into a tiny ball by shear force of voice, it was Sven. "'N dats wot I call me 'Thooum. Shoulda 'eard it from my grappies doe. "E said 'e woize once chucka'd into jail for scare the shite out o' 'un o' dem nobly gits rioght 'n propa."

Edmund's eyes were widened as soon as his friend even opened his mouth for that display. Pale as a ghost, he only muttered a "Th-thanks, really needed you to make a scene". He scratched the back of his head and began to slowly move out of the room, beginning to properly walk towards the exit as soon as he let out a monotone "I'll... familiarize myself with Yharnam Central." towards his boisterous buddy.

"Don't fogit dat if ya eva need sum 'elp, just givith a gud, loud 'n propa rawr!" Sven happily waved at Edmund as he left for the outside, his voice still holding lingering loudness of his booming roar, "Its saved sum peoples in da past ya know!"

'Yeah, save some imebcile's life in exchange for drawing in more of them and his ear drums. Fair trade, certainly.', Edmund thought as he found his way out.

"Might I have a word?" A hand landed on each of the powder ganger's shoulders. Behind them was Ludwig and also what was remaining of the congregation, glaring at them. Thankfully, no vicar. "In private."

A cold sweat broke out on the back of Sven's neck as he turned around ever so slowly, hands shaking as it reached for his hammer ever so slowly, "Well... O' look at da tiome mista Lewdwiggles. Itsa purge o'clocku 'n tiome for me to go purge sum dem beast nah? Tiome fo da lads 'n laddies to get dem wheelios 'n saws 'n shite to go 'n purge sum beasties bitches? I'm shure dat my assiociate over there, 'un mista Edward Von Squishface 'ill be mo dan 'happy to fill you in on the rest o' dat details. Off tew work I go nao!", Sven quickly spat out before suddenly grabbed his hammer and bolting out of the room with speed never thought to be able to be reached by a human as he dashed his way into the street, hoping that he'd loose Ludwig's (or Lewdwiggle's) divine death glare.

Edmund , who was so happy with the fact he'd be the one to retreat, calmly breathed in and out while nodding. He turned to Ludwig with a forced smile on his face and said "Lead the way, Mister...?"

"Ludwig..." He said as he grinded his teeth in silence. This... this was why he had a problem with the powder keg. The attitude. "...captain of the hunt." He made sign for Edmund to follow him and walked in silence for a while, letting that (and the stress) sink in. "... Edmund is it? I heard of you. How you follow our less... traditionalist elements."

Being alone in a small garden, he stopped. "What do you think of our city thus far?"

Edmund paused, his face contorting into a mix of relief, confusion, and him slowly detecting a very possible trick-question. "Yharnam is very... unique.". He looked around the room, as if it'd give him some answers. Lovely flowers, though. "The Healing-Church is very.. gracious and effective with their Blood-Healing." Edmund loosened his collar. "Why I'm here. I, uhh... have a debt to Yharnam and I felt like being a Hunter would've been a good idea. It seemed like a very fair trade to me, Mr. Ludwig."

Ludwig nodded. "As it is." He turned towards Edmund. And smiled. "Edmund, you have a head on your shoulders and a brave heart, the two things I ask a hunter to have!" His smile softened. "What I ask of you is to remember what you just said in the next few days and keep doing what you are doing." And nothing more, this seemed to ask. "Why don't you take the next two days off? I couldn't help but hear your conversation and I agree, you'd do well to learn about the streets, patrolling the same area won't help that. Well, consider it training, you'll still be paid. How does that sound?"

"Well, alright.", squeaked Edmund, before he turned to leave the room, and from there the Church. "But I didn't sign up because it was easy, sir. I'll take my leave."

taptap, taptap, taptap

The hunter rapped two of his fingers against his Threaded Cane rhythmically, a consequence of his impatience with the situation he found himself in. It went without saying that Oz was by no means a religious man, so the thought of being crammed inside a cathedral with his fellow hunters to listen to a sermon was obviously not very high on his to-do-list. Yet here he was, standing in a veritable sea of rabble, waiting for the First Vicar to get on with it. If it hadn’t been for the explicit instructions he had been given by Lady Maria, the enigmatic leader of the faction he belonged to, Oz would have been all too happy to tell the church to shove off and go about his day. He wasn’t sure what he would have done with his free time, but it wasn’t difficult to top listening to choir boys for an exacerbating amount of time.

The tapping ceased as soon as Laurence showed himself. To the former doctor, the man elicited a bundle of conflicting emotions. On one hand, he was instrumental in the Corbett name falling from grace, but at the same time Oz couldn’t help but respect the man for being able to build an entire religion from the ground up in such a relatively short span of time. ‘So one part disdain, one part admiration. What an odd combination,’ he mused while he took note of the various assignments the vicar was handing out to the assembled groups of hunters. But an odd wave of disappointment struck him as he heard that he would be stationed in Cathedral Ward. Because despite the fact that it was logical to Maria’s Circle, which boasted the fewest number of hunters of any of the present factions, guard the smallest area of the city, it would also mean that there would be fewer chances for him to actually hunt beasts considering how secure the place would be.

Thankfully, the feeling passed as he realized how ridiculous the notion was. The last thing Oz wanted was for some malevolent force to make his desire come true in the worst way imaginable. Because even if he wasn’t particularly religious, any Yharnamite worth his salt knew better than to go out of his way to tempt fate with such matters. To that end, the man resolved to find some good wood to knock on later, but the sound of Djura making an ass of himself pulled him out of his thoughts. Not that his question was asinine, in fact Oz raised an eyebrow in disbelief when he heard that Old Yharnam would be left all but defenseless, but rather the way in which he chose to do so just spoke leagues about the Powder Kegs in general. It was of little consequence though, as the vicar brushed the comment aside and like that the little gathering was brought to a close.

The Porcupine shuffled along with the wave of hunters pouring out of the obscenely large doors of the cathedral. He couldn't help but stare down at his hand contemplatively, clenching and unclenching it as he did so. The very hands that he had spent the better portion of his life cultivating to handle fine instruments precisely were now being used to slay monsters that sprang straight out of the tales of his childhood, which was a fact that he still had trouble truly believing every now and then. So far, his first three Blood Moons he had participated in had gone without much incident, but from the whispers he had been hearing, the one coming would be on a different level entirely. And while he felt stronger and more capable with each beast he destroyed, he couldn’t quite shake the apprehension that was building inside of him. It was as if some subconscious part of him knew better than to be a part of the coming hunt, but it was already far too late for him to turn back now.

The sight and smell of his city helped sooth his nerves a bit. ’It’ll all still be here in a week,’ he reminded himself, steeling his resolve for the nights to come.

"...Elizabeth Savage, Isaac Delinoire, Warren Stern, Milo Granger, Svenson Yorrick, Altais Grauss, Julian Maloes, Djura Evereth and Catherine Nancy." All in all, 14 names. These composed 'The Short List', people at risk of turning into beasts. The criteria to be on this list were multiple and undeniably, some were political. What this meant for everyone on this list however, was that even suspicion of beasthood setting in during the next seven days was enough to warrant 'termination' by the Hunter of Hunters.

Shen the Strangelander

Maria looked up from the list toward the masked figure in front of her and Gehrman, for they were the two in charge of this list. Once Laurence and Caryll placed their inputs, but now they were too busy elsewhere. Maria handed the list over to the crow feather covered man who looked at the names before carefully folding the piece of paper and walking to the fireplace, tossing it inside after having committed those names to memory. No need for such an embarrassing little piece of information to come in anyone's hands.

Maria liked... well, that might be too strong of a word for her, appreciated the man, his ruthless efficiency, his enthusiasm to serve. Then again it was why she had selected him specifically, despite everyone else in the Old Guard practically laughing at her when she did. "Any I should watch for in particular?" That voice. It shattered all the mystic and the serious of the scene just by its high pitch. It wasn't feminine or childish, it was just ridiculous with a slight wheezing behind it, seven words being all it took to screech your ears. It was the lot of poor Shen. In his youth in a distant land, Shen had received quite the trashing which had knocked his nose inside his face and crushed his wind pipes, straining his vocal cords. He was now impossibly ugly (one would guess, as he never let go of his mask for even a second when he's with people) and sounded like this. It comes without surprise that during this man's life, no one ever took him seriously, despite him becoming a renown killer as he himself said and as his skills prior to joining the hunters told.

He went all the way to Yharnam in the faint hope of being able to cure his condition. His wound had already 'healed' a long time ago however, and there was no use to be found in the blood to help him. He had joined the hunters because he had nothing better to do and quickly found himself to be a loner and an outcast. Still, he was extremely competent and had spent his prior life being a mankiller, not a beast hunter. A useful talent non the less. That was why Maria chose him. He didn't have sympathies toward anyone since people either showed contempt, amusement or pity toward him. He did not care about women and children because they were just personal reminders of the rejections and humiliations he had endured during any romantic endeavors. Yes, she needed someone who would kill, but who wasn't a psychopath that took enjoyment in it. Shen was shielded by his bitterness toward the world.

Maria had been the only woman he had probably spoken to that didn't even flinch at his voice, that didn't treat him any different. Or at least that didn't show it. Of course Maria had felt a hint of disgust, but it was like everything else for her now. Distant. Faint. And that made Shen completely infatuated with her despite never having a hint that she felt the same way. "Yes, Delinoire." There was a moment of silence. Delinoire? Not Savage? Still, Maria didn't allow him to voice any questions.

"And what about your apprentice, Odhran was it?" Being dragged from his thoughts, Shen looked up and nodded, preferring to use as few words as possible. "He'll kill those who lost themselves." Maria was well aware that Shen and his pupil actually didn't see eye to eye. As per her habit she had delegated the entire matter on Shen, leaving him to chose how to do things and who to recruit as long as she didn't hear of beastial hunters anymore. Thus far it was working but... It was Gehrman who raised his voice, rolling next to Maria in his wheelchair. "He's skillful, fine, but is he loyal, obedient?" Shen looked sown at Gehrman. "He is independent and he will do what he was formed to do." The old man on the wheelchair found himself frowning and gritting his teeth, knowing full well that meant that unlike Shen, Odhran might not 'kill on suspicions' members of the Short List. "I don't like this, wandering Hunters of Hunters with no oversight whatsoever..."

Funny how Gehrman was so objected against hiring new hunters but now doesn't like the idea of the people he dislikes so much risking needlessly their lives thought Maria. She walked to the small desk as Gehrman spoke, getting away from the men who followed her with their eyes. She sifted with one hand through a small pile of letters, requests to them. She had a tight schedule and... wait, what was that one?

"What our silent friend is trying to say is that he didn't chose his pupil because he liked him personally or because he was especially devout, but because as a person, he is simply someone at peace with the idea of killing Hunters who have fallen to beasts and has the talent to do so. No more no less. Am I right, Shen?" Said Maria, as she raised a letter from the pile. Shen nodded in gratitude that she'd have saved him the embarrassment of explaining himself with his voice.

"Good. Now leave us. Should the need come we can always train a professional assassin and split the roles..." Gehrman frowned like she had just said the dirtiest of word, not just implying murder but dropping 'assassin' right in the open. Shen bowed and took his leave in silence, getting his mind back on business. Business wasn't exactly thriving however, Hunters were tough to corruption but... he knew the real deal was in seven days time where it would be non-stop blood fueled overtime. He hoped his pupil would be ready to face his first Endless Night.

_____________

Maria read the letter she had found and raised her eyebrows in surprise. That caused Gehrman to frown even more. No one in the Old Guard was ever surprised anymore. "What is this, what's wrong?" Her eyes kept moving until finally they closed. Ultimately, she ignored Gehrman's question.

"You can enter."
"Wait until-"

Gehrman looked at Maria with disgust on his face. Him? Right now? Behind the door, Ludwig moved his knuckles away from the door in surprise. Had they heard him walk up to the door? Still, he opened up the door and stepped inside. A visibly annoyed Gehrman and an inexpressive doll-like Maria in front of him. Ludwig was about to excuse himself for his untimely arrival but Maria raised the letter in the air. "What is the meaning of this?" So she knew. Ludwig cleared his throat and placed his hands behind his back, standing at attention in front of his superiors. "Well Lady Maria, I thought it would be an excellent way heighten the moral and-"

Gehrman had no idea what was going on and turned toward Maria, leaving Ludwig to talk to himself in a corner. Ludwig knew Gehrman hated his guts but he didn't have to be such an ass about it! As for Maria, she merely disliked the lack of order and politeness. "Meaning of this, what is this 'this' exactly?" Maria handed over the letter and a frowning Gehrman went over it quickly. "...increase morale... festival... the. nuns?! The Blood Saints! 'To organize pairings between the two groups, as I suggested to Mother Augustine, which she approved -UN-FUCKING-LIKELY- she approved, to permeate the confinement of the saints and nuns and likewise encourage many hunters without parents or family out of their solitude- This is a load of... OF! Bullcrap!" Ludwig remained stoic and tried to place a few words in. "Mister Gehrman, it cannot be denied that-"

"NO! NONONONO! What is this, are we Yharnam's match makers now? How is taking away our Saints from the transfusion chair going to help us? How in the gods name having hunters of beasts think of women while they fight not hinder them!" Ludwig's figure got harder as he was loosing patience to. "Sir, this isn't in any way sexual, but I do believe humans need-" Gehrman could only place his hand on his face and laugh in derision. "Not sexual in any way says the self important prick who bedded half the impressionable women of the town!"

The bitter old fart would dare to bring his personal life into this?! Ludwig took a long and hard breath as he sneered at his old master, wondering if today would be the day he'd finally talk back to him, but decided to be the bigger man. "I see I was mistaken in my judgement. I'll take my leave and-"

"I think its a good idea."

Ludwig looked with surprise at Maria as Gehrman turned his head in complete incomprehension. "A good idea, this?!" Asked Gehrman. Maria raised a hand as to stop a potential rant from her wheelchair bound comrade. "IF we add a little something. I understand your concern for the well being of both our hunters and our saints and nuns. But I am also suspicious that not everyone, on either side of the fence would be so chaste. Nuns and Saints shan't be deflowered. Which is why I suggest chaperons."

Well, that seemed reasonable...

"Members of the Choir."

Ludwig felt his muscles tense at the mention of these elitist weirdos and Gehrman didn't seem at ease either. The old man spoke with hesitation. "I... doubt the Choir is the right choice for this." Maria shrugged. "I don't see why not. Seeing a bit of the city outside the ward would do them good as well. And I trust any members of the choir to remain pure of thoughts." Did they even know what the notion of sex even was? Gehrman wanted to scream no again but...

...The odds were against him and had been for a long time. Laurence... he didn't see Gehrman as the asset he once was, didn't trust his judgement anymore. If he refused the vote would be a stalemate and Maria would just go up to Laurence. "Fine. You can organize that little 'thing' of yours."

________________________________________

The lone young man, in his crow feathered garb and wire thin glasses, sat outside the large Church with a small raven eating at breadcrumbs he had thrown on the ground. His name, to most it wasn’t important. They simply called him Raven, though the kinder people called him Cao. His role was to Hunt the Hunters, an important task but one which earned him the ire of others and had brought him to a life distant from those around him. His master, Shen, had long since given up on trying to make the young man like himself but could not deny the efficiency with which Cao worked. He would not hesitate to kills those who were blood drunk or became beasts.

His eyes wandered to the sky, watching passing clouds and birds even as his master had approached him. Shen was a cold man, certainly not one to be kind to anybody and yet had shown kindness, or perhaps some sort of pity, upon choosing Cao as his apprentice all those years ago. The young man sat in silence and smirked at his Master’s hilarious voice as the man recited the list of those to be on the look for. He knew the names, though not the people themselves beyond what they looked like. “Do not fail to kill them if they fall under suspicion of becoming a beast. I doubt it’d be pleasant to Hunt them then,” finished Shen, bringing Cao to look at the man with a blank stare.

”You know I won’t hesitant, but I won’t just kill them because they are on this list. If it looks like they are failing and will become a beast, I’ll strike.” A sigh escaped Cao’s lips as he finished his statement, one which Shen scoffed at before turning and striding away. The lone Hunter stood from his position and turned towards the church, still emptying of Hunters from the briefing they had been given. He could hear talk of the festival all around him, his only thought towards it being one of disgust. What foolishness the old men had show, putting people at risk and allowing it to still go on. But, he did admit that it would be nice time to relax before the brutality of his job became evident. How much he wished he could be anywhere else, perhaps at his home where he could tend to his flowers or read from his library. Instead, he was stuck in the endless crowd of Hunters, some who glared at him and others who seemed in awe of him.