Dark Jack

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Hunter's Dream

The doll looked to the Shopkeeper, then back to Ophelia. “I am afraid that we do not know how a vial of your human blood would be useful, good Hunter. Many unassuming artifacts can come to possess power through sympathy and the influence of the Nightmare, though, so we also cannot guarantee that it will not be useful.”
Again she looked to the Shopkeeper. “Though the Nightmare creeps ever closer to Yharnam this night, we do not feel as though its presence is an urgent threat anywhere yet. A powerful presence lingers, but we cannot yet tell exactly where it will strike.”
“So maybe the solution is to do the opposite of hurrying?” Gerlinde suggested with a chuckle. “We know that we're probably going to stop Harold, but we also know that we need some kind of protection before we do it. So we go somewhere not related to him at all?” She shrugged. “There are so many options, honey. The Wise Master might know something, but it seems like it's a roll of the dice whether he knows anything about anything. He knows a lot, but his knowledge can be... erratic. Might be worth a try, but it might also be a complete waste of time. There is a lot of the Halls of the Old Lords I haven't explored yet, and if we're going to the Forbidden Woods anyway, we could head to Byrgenwerth and see if we can find the entrance to the Old Labyrinth.
Or...” She grinned evilly. “Or we could head to Yahar'gul, like Harold wants us to. Kill ourselves some Followers and get some more blood echoes. I noticed there's a new memory for sale, and I kinda want it. Or maybe some extra arcane power from the doll.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Hunter's Dream

“I can't say that I necessarily care a whole lot about stopping him myself,” Gerlinde shrugged, “but I am curious. I wonder what good seeking Harold's insights will do, though... or anything he says, really. You know about the nice old man-thing and how he hides some of his expressions, so you know his entire thing is manipulation and deception. What makes you think even a fraction of what he has told us, let alone what he will tell us later, is true?”
Idly peeling her hair out of her cleavage and throwing it back over her shoulder, Gerlinde continued: “Don't get me wrong, if you want to go back I'll go with you, and if you want to kill the old geezer I'll help you do it... but if we do that, we'll make an enemy of the White Healing Church, and maybe the black church too. It's not a decision to be made lightly. Also...” She grinned. “It's fine that you can read his expressions, but I think I saw more than that. For instance, I bet you didn't see that big golden tentacle that shot out of the ground and shone a golden light at you at one point? You didn't seem to notice, at all. It was right before he told us to go to the Grand Cathedral.
Also...” she drawled, turning away and idly looking over the headstones scattered around the Dream, “last time Harold saw me I didn't look like this, but he recognized me instantly. And when he told us we could leave, he gestured at the golden lantern. Not in a 'in the general area'-sort of way, but directly at the lantern. As if he could see it.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Hunter's Dream

“Woah there, girl,” Gerlinde laughed, cocking her hip and tossing her head, causing her now-wet hair to whip over her shoulder and drape and adhere across her chest. “I'm usually the first to run face-first into danger when I catch the scent of a nice secret, and if you want to go I'll go with you, but maybe we should take a minute? Compare notes or something like that? I also don't even know where we're going. The Grand Cathedral? And didn't we all just agree not to split up?”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Hunter's Dream

Torquil was very confused after everything that had happened. Everyone seemed so uncomfortable, and he did remember Ophelia telling him earlier that he had to remember that Vicar Harold was not a nice old man, which she reiterated again now... but he could not understand why. It had seemed pretty nice at the garden, and the vicar clearly was a nice old man. The only conclusion he could reach was that Ophelia was wrong on this, and for some reason insistent that her incorrect information was correct.
Still, Torquil awkwardly accepted the hug when offered, and while at first he thought of it as a consolation prize for now having gotten a hug from Gerlinde, he soon found himself growing increasingly uncomfortable with the embrace. Feeling Ophelia's smaller, more fragile body against his larger and sturdier one, being aware of how relatively light she was, combined with her warmth contrasting against the chill rain and wind that now haunted the Dream... again that sense of fear and disgust overcame him. An intense sense of self-hatred. Don't touch her. You don't deserve it. Stay away from them.
A small shudder went through him as soon as Ophelia separated from him, and a wave of nausea overcame him... and he felt weirdly compelled to hurt himself. He resisted the compulsion, but in that moment Torquil's eyes were drawn toward the precipice of the Dream, the rocky edge beyond which an endless expanse of clouds stretched below as well as above, and he imagined jumping off it. Then he reminded himself that he would probably just reawaken back in the Dream even if he did kill himself, which was sort of a relief. He did not want to die, after all... right?

It would take Ophelia a moment to locate the doll and the Shopkeeper, as they for once were not standing at attention right where they arrived. Instead she found them up in the workshop, looking at them through the door while seeking shelter from the rain and the new gusts of wind.
“Slow down, good Hunter, you are not making sense,” the doll said worriedly, raising her hands to pat the air. “None of what you said explains the false Paleblood, to our knowledge. If it was as simple as that, the Choir would surely have created something similar from their own research... and the Shopkeeper's blood?” She looked to the Shopkeeper, who stood facing her in their usual silence. “It is true that the Shopkeeper was wounded and slain in battle with Hunters of the White Healing Church some days ago, but they are bound by the same rules you are, good Hunters. Surely you noticed this when good Torquil was killed? Upon returning to the Dream, even the blood drawn from their wounds disappears. And even if they did somehow preserve a sample of their blood, Paleblood cannot be replicated like that. It is not that kind of disease.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Hunter's Dream

The four Hunters crowded around the golden plinth on top of which its shiny lantern sat, majestically demanding their attention. Vicar Harold waved to them a final time before walking back down the stair to his garden, and the light filled the Hunters' vision and carried them back to the Dream.

As had been the case every time he had traveled to the Dream Farren felt a strange tremor go through his blood, only for the cold rain that had so far been falling straight vertically to begin to change their trajectory, carried by brisk gusts of wind blowing through the area. But as concerning as the weather changing in the Dream yet again might be, it was likely nothing next to the sensation of the abrupt and total return of the burdens that had been lifted from Farren's consciousness.
The safety, the homeliness and the warmth Farren had felt in the vicar's presence all vanished as soon as he left his presence, and the paranoia and mostly-forgotten madness returned to sink their wicked claws into his mind anew. But even so, even having left, Farren would still feel himself convinced that Harold had just been a trustworthy, nice old man... but that was all. That was the only compulsion that stayed with him.

“Okay... so that just happened,” Gerlinde said, grinning and shaking her head slowly. “I vote we don't do that again, yeah?”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Lumenflower Garden, Upper Cathedral Ward, high above western Yharnam

Gerlinde turned to look at Farren, though her eyes kept shifting back and forth between him and the vicar, without her almost ever-present broad smile wavering for a second. “I think we should either all go hunting, or we should all see these enigmatic truths that are apparently in the cathedral. And either way, I think we should head back to the Dream before we decide.”
Torquil looked from Gerlinde to Farren, seemingly lost and confused as ever, but with a small, uncharacteristically relaxed smile on his face. “I don't want us to split up again.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Lumenflower Garden, Upper Cathedral Ward, high above western Yharnam

Harold shrugged and gestured to the golden plinth and lantern they had arrived through just a few minutes ago. “You are all also free to leave whenever you want, Ophelia, but I'm afraid you will have to look in the cathedral without me. This goes for all of you, too, obviously; Gerlinde, Farren and Torquil, you are also invited to examine the Grand Cathedral to your hearts' content.”
He looked back to the lumenflowers. “There's still a couple of hours until the lumenflowers are in full bloom. It will be spectacular. I have already invited Ophelia to come see them, but I will also extend the invitation to the rest of you. The Lumenflower Garden is breathtakingly beautiful when the full moon is at its highest.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Lumenflower Garden, Upper Cathedral Ward, high above western Yharnam

“I see most truths quite easily, dear,” Harold told Ophelia with a grandfatherly smile, “which is why it interests me a great deal when a truth manages to elude me. Ah, but if the good Mother Moira is already investigating, I suppose the matter will be well in hand very soon; I almost struggle to name a more reliable Hunter than her.” He shot a glance at Gerlinde at those words, and to Ophelia, his smirk grew momentarily disdainful.
“I'll let Dietrich know next time I see him and see if he can send a few Hunters to help,” Harold continued. “I am very interested in this creature, and I would certainly be interested to learn more about a Hunter in the area I know nothing about. Crow Hunter... I wonder if it could be a Hunter of Hunters? I will have Dietrich handle that, too.”
Finally, the vicar threw his arms wide and laughed merrily. “Ah, but that's quite enough talk about business, isn't it? This is the first visit to my beautiful garden for Farren and Torquil, and their first time meeting me. Please know – all of you, and that means you too, Gerlinde – that you are always welcome here, and that if you need anything you need but ask.” A small frown settled on his brow. “Though I hear that we should probably start rationing quicksilver bullets... ah, not that that should be a problem for you. I am sure the Dream can provide so long as you hunt for it.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Lumenflower Garden, Upper Cathedral Ward, high above western Yharnam

The vicar stared at Ophelia with a blank expression, while Torquil shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other and Gerlinde – still smiling widely – casually rested her right hand on the handle of her threaded cane and her left on her blood vial pouch. There was an unmistakable tension in the air, and for several ominous seconds the garden remained in nigh total silence. Even if Farren tried to speak, he would find himself compelled not to... and Ophelia would once again become aware of the feeling that had assailed her while walking with Dietrich earlier that night: the feeling that something unseen was observing her very closely.
Then the silence was broken by the sound of bells tolling – much closer and louder here at the Upper Cathedral Ward – for the second time, announcing that the moon had officially risen to the point where lunacy would start to grip the hearts and minds of beasts throughout Yharnam. The feeling of being observed abated, and a small smile curved the corners of Harold's mouth.

“If you want your answers, look in the Grand Cathedral,” he told her, gesturing toward the enormous building onto the side of which these gardens was built and for which the ward was named. “That is where you will find all the truths you're looking for. But until you do, simply rest easy knowing that unless you do something incredibly stupid, it is not a real possibility.”
He turned back to Farren. “Now, my dear Farren, about what you were saying... What is the situation in the Industrial Ward? Who or what is Crowmother?”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Lumenflower Garden, Upper Cathedral Ward, high above western Yharnam

“If the safety of Yharnam is your concern, there is plenty out there that I would happily entrust the four of you with resolving,” Harold told Ophelia, finally turning back to them fully. “I don't know how much you have heard from the Moonborn Hunter already, but the Night of the Blood Moon had some rather severe consequences for Yharnam, even beyond just wiping out nearly its entire population. Three Great Ones were killed during that night – Venara, Seraph and the poor Ophan of Kos – , and something like that sends colossal ripples through all layers of reality. It has woken up several Great Ones that were slumbering harmlessly within the Nightmare or the Old Labyrinth, and has made them turn their attention to our fair city. You are right about that, Ophelia: the danger of another Blood Moon is very real, but it will not happen because of our false Paleblood. The Great Ones are already here, and the people of Yharnam are already being guided by their divine wills.”
His eyes turned to the newest member of their group. “Since you have already met Gerlinde you may already have heard, but I will tell you regardless because it is a task of utmost importance to the continued existence of Yharnam, and perhaps even the world as a whole. I need someone to go to Yahar'gul and stop what is happening there. I can feel it even now... someone calling to a Great One. Trying to draw it here, along with its entire Nightmare. I cannot overstate the importance of them not being allowed to complete whatever wretched ritual they are preparing over there.”