[h3]White Church Workshop, Upper Cathedral Ward, high above western Yharnam – Ophelia[/h3]
Even while approaching the doors that obviously served as the main entrance to this immense structure, Ophelia would easily be able to tell that the interior of this place was alive with frantic activity. People ran across the stone-tiled floor this way and that, carrying all manner of supplies – bundles of cloth, armfuls of weapons and nondescript crates with uncertain contents – to whatever destination and purpose they were needed for. Walking up the steps toward the open doorway she would see dozens of figures in civilian clothing moving things around and performing various menial tasks around the place, under the guidance of another dozen or so men and women dressed in the white garbs of clerics in service to the White Church.
And among those, stalking among the masses and hiding in the shadows of the pillars that flanked either side of the huge hall she found through the doors, was yet another group of five. These figures did not partake in nor supervise the labor being performed here, but simply seemed to be watching proceedings with detached boredom and impatience. These figures all wore the garbs of White Church Hunters, and unlike everyone else, appeared to be armed; two of these Hunters were leaning on threaded canes and the last three carried small silver swords, of which two had the familiar blade-scabbard of a Holy Blade on their backs and the last had the head of a Kirkhammer.

Barely had Ophelia moved within several meters of the door to this place – which she would probably be able to deduce was the White Church Workshop – before one of the laborers spotted her and immediately, and quite noisily, dropped the armful of swords he had been carrying.
“Vileblood!” someone cried, and in an instant all the activity in the building seemed to refocus entirely on reacting to her presence. All the civilians and clerics stopped what they were doing and retreated toward the far-end of the hall, with several clerics running up the central stairway that lead to a floor above. The Hunters, meanwhile, moved with speed and purpose to form a semicircle just inside the doorway, brandishing their weapons and making it very clear that they intended to prevent her from entering.
“Not another step, fiend,” the Hunter with the Kirkhammer, a middle-aged man, declared as he pointed at her with his sword. “How did you get here?”