Dark Jack

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Streets of eastern Central Yharnam, just south of the plateau elevator

While Draco spoke to the other civilians for about twenty seconds, a lot happened down the ways while many of the civilians were too preoccupied with this to listen with more than half an ear. Within a heartbeat of Stefan being launched away from the door a second figure emerged in a run that was quickly accelerating to a sprint, which was a strange sight indeed for the untrained eyes of the Yharnamite noncombatants. The creature moved on two legs like a person and was generally human-sized and -shaped, but had several features that contradicted the idea of it not being bestial in nature. For one thing its entire left forearm and hand was disproportionally huge and covered in long, coarse fur on the back. The index-, middle-, ring-finger and thumb were also all enormous, with the middle-finger being almost the length and width of a normal human arm, with each finger tipped with a wicked curved claw nearly as long as the fingers they were attached to. The attackers right hand seemed a lot more human than the left, at least from a distance – at least having the proportions of a normal human arm – but was also clad in fur, and was holding on to a strange weapon of some kind in the shape of two long, curved spikes as an extension of the arm.
At the same time it seemed to most of the civilians as though the creature's head was also covered in fur and that it had a number of mismatched tentacles on its back of various lengths, colors and textures. If Draco looked, however, he might realize even from afar that the fur-clad head was actually a hood with a furry exterior, and that what might seem like tentacles were actually numerous strips of fur and leather from different creatures, attached to its upper back and dangling from there like something akin to a frayed scarf.

Stefan barely had time to get back on his feet before the enemy had closed the distance and was upon him again, leaving him no time to use any of his blood vials. Stefan desperately dodge-rolled to the side just as the aggressors giant left hand came slashing through the air, its claws drawing blood from the Hunter's thigh before he could get out of the way completely. The enemy immediately followed up with a slash with the weapon in its right hand, forcing Stefan to shield his face and throat with his left arm as he received yet another wound, though he took this moment to thrust his sword into the abdomen of the assailant with his right hand, inflicting a wound of his own.
In the time it took for Stefan to withdraw his weapon from the other's guts, the left bestial hand had drawn back once again to deliver another fearsome strike, which Stefan this time managed to evade entirely by abruptly moving away from the other in a blur – a move Draco might or might not recognize as a Hunter's quickstep – only to stumble for a moment, reaching desperately into a pouch at his hip with his bloody left hand.
As Stefan produced a small glimmering object – too small to be identified from a distance – from the pouch, however, the enemy seemed to make the same move the Hunter had just made, swiftly closing the distance between them, before making a grasping motion with both arms, clawing with both hands at once. All Stefan could do was try to take a normal step backward, which served only to make the gashes he received across his torso a little shallower than they would otherwise have been. This did afford Stefan the opportunity to jab the object in his left hand into his left thigh – a motion that would not take much to recognize as injecting himself with a syringe – before pirouetting backward, putting distance between himself and his opponent while simultaneously bringing his sword a full revolution around himself before slashing, cutting a red gash across both of the other's biceps and chest.
Even wounded the murderous stranger did not relent on his offensive, however, and started slashing wildly with his hands, alternating between right hand left hand, swiftly drawing more and more blood from Stefan as it took all the Hunter had just to evade enough to make his injuries superficial rather than crippling.

By the time Draco finished addressing the other civilians Stefan quickstepped away a second time, both fighters bloodstained from the ordeal, but with the enemy clearly having the upper hand in the battle. As the civilians frantically dumped everything they could think to dump – with the ones that had listened more intently to Draco urging the rest to hurry disposing of as much burden as they could – the fur-clad figure quickstepped after Stefan once more, only to step straight into the Hunter's waiting blade, impaling itself through what seemed to be either the upper stomach or lower chest. Suffering this wound did not seem to dissuade the attacker either, though, and in that moment, with Stefan's weapon basically locked where it was buried in the other's flesh, the attacker punched with its right hand. With the two-pronged fist weapon, this punch meant that both of the thick, curved spikes plunged deep into the left side of Stefan's chest and shoulder, respectively.

As the last civilian finished unloading herself and they all turned to start running down the street, where the giant still seemed to be in a fight of its own, the attacker reached up with its huge left hand, grasped Stefan's right shoulder and practically pulled the man off the weapon in its right hand. It lifted his feet off the ground, apparently squeezing his shoulder hard enough to force him to relinquish his hold of the sword that still impaled the other, and tossed him just several feet away where Stefan stumbled to the ground, crippled and disarmed.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

That's great! Welcome back, then. Now we just need Ashgan to reemerge, and I'd actually feel somewhat comfortable posting in the interest check that the RP is looking for more players.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Streets of eastern Central Yharnam, just south of the plateau elevator

Without really needing Draco's urging, Stefan had already taken the first several steps toward the screams, though he did so haltingly, jaw clenched, as he frantically tried to determine what he was supposed to do in this situation. There were civilians in danger in there, yes, but there were also civilians out here that could easily be in danger as well. There were most likely more civilians out here than inside, and given that, judging by the sound, the ones inside were already in the process of being killed, the ones outside had both numbers and the greater likelihood of successful survival. Part of Stefan wanted to argue that he had to at least try to save the people inside because it was the “right” thing to do, but a more pragmatic part of him – one that had seen the light of day much more frequently since he became a Hunter – knew that the situation was not so simple. The screams were coming from inside a normal house; a two-storey building fit for a handful of people at most, likely to be relatively cramped and cluttered with furniture on the inside. Conditions in there would be highly disadvantageous for Hunters, who relied primarily on evasion to stay alive against physically superior adversaries. His mobility would be greatly hindered, lowering his chance of winning a fight against whoever was in there. And if he died? Then the intruder would kill the people inside anyway, after which they could just meander outside and kill everyone else as well.
What was the alternative? If he stayed with the civilians he was escorting the ones inside would surely die, while his group... what? They could head back down the street where they had come from, but the street was unobstructed and well-illuminated, and the next intersection in that direction was a ways off. The intruder would finish their business inside, come outside and could then easily spot Stefan and the group to start pursuing them. Stefan would have much better chances outside... or rather, he would have if he had been alone. In that scenario he would have to fight while simultaneously protecting the civilians, once again putting him at a disadvantage both because he had to divide his attention between his opponent and his charges, and because he could not allow himself to move very far from them.
The other way would lead into the church giant and whatever skirmish was going on over there... but also to the elevator. If the civilians could get on the elevator and ride it to the top of the plateau, they would at least be temporarily safe. There was the giant and whatever he was fighting, yes, but for as long as that fight lasted, everyone over there would hopefully be distracted by each other. They still had to deal with the intruder, however... unless...

“Go over there!” he shouted back, still half-running sideways toward the screams as he looked back at Draco and the others. He pointed up the street at the giant and elevator. “Ride the elevator to the top if you can! If anything notices you, run back here!”

With that Stefan turned fully toward the house and set into a full sprint, a speed that would carry him to his destination in but a couple of seconds. He would go and take face the intruder, hopefully saving the screaming people inside, while the civilians tried removing themselves from danger. Most optimal solution, he thought; highest possible chance of saving as many lives as he could.
He came to a skidding halt in front of the door, the screams much louder now this close, holding his right hand and weapon to the aside as he reached for the door-handle with his left hand, bracing himself mentally for tearing the door open and throwing himself in harms way.
As he turned the handle, it occurred to Stefan that it was odd that none of the screaming people in there had been silenced during his approach. The first victim had sounded as though he had gotten killed immediately, whereas these other voices had been crying out for at around a dozen seconds by now... and their screams implied fear and grief rather than physical pain. Almost as if the intruder was content to simply let them scream, which was odd...
Stefan pulled the door open, saw a flash of movement – of something reaching out through the doorway – as something hit him in his abdomen hard, hard enough that he could feel various pops and cracks inside himself of organs and bones breaking from the impact. He looked down and saw an absurdly large hand clenched into a fist pressing into his body; the hand itself would probably be as large as Stefan's entire torso unclenched, each finger tipped with a huge claw, the back of the hand covered in long, blackish fur.
There's a lit censer next to me, he thought incredulously, the disgusting smell of incense filling his nostrils even as he felt the air being knocked out of him. Then: Beasts don't make fists.
All of this happened in but a split second, as the punch struck deep, and the attacker followed through with it. Stefan felt the fist keep pushing, the brute strength behind it leaving him in awe, as his feet were lifted off the cobblestone, air started whooshing past his ears, and the doorway – and the foe in it – suddenly started removing itself from him. Stefan was thrown back into the street, flying about ten meters (33 feet) through the air before landing on his back, rolling several times before finally coming to a stop.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Streets of eastern Central Yharnam, just south of the plateau elevator

Aside from some scattered fearful whimpers, hushed mumbling and several curious glances past Stefan at the danger he spoke of – it was light enough still to see something as huge as a church giant from this distance, particularly with the lampposts casting their flickering light in the streets – Draco was the only one who really reacted to the announcement, prompting the Hunter to turn his attention to him. He cocked his head to right, blinking for a second as his left hand habitually went to the tip of his nose before moving up the bridge of it in a smooth motion, pushing a pair of spectacles that were not there back in place out of habit.
Keeping the rear guard? Stefan had not been aware that the huntsman had been doing such a thing; he had been working under the presumption that he was literally the only thing standing between these civilians and inevitable oblivion. Not that he had been entirely mistaken, considering what a minor inconvenience Draco's resistance would probably be against a scourge beast if one showed up, but still, he could appreciate the sentiment. While some Hunters would doubtlessly have been callous, arrogant or disillusioned enough to point this out to Draco, however, Stefan felt no need to rub the man's powerlessness in his face. He was trying, which was more than could be said for most people. Besides, weak or not, an extra pair of eyes and ears could not hurt. It might buy Stefan an extra second or two if Draco managed to spot a threat before he could, which might save lives out of this bunch of noncombatants.
Part of him was a little disappointed that no one had protested against the prospect of adding another half hour or so before they would arrive at the shelter, though. He had really hoped that someone would give him an excuse to not do what he was supposed to do in this situation, and risk the civilians to approach what was going on over there. Church giants usually served the Healing Church, shepherded by the similarly afflicted but less mentally degraded church servants, but they were exceptionally weak of mind and essentially little more than beasts, even if their appearance was somewhat more human than most. One fighting something over there could mean that it was facing someone it had orders to eliminate, like intruders or beasts, which meant that its opponents were enemies of the church. Or it could mean that the church giant was out of control and was attacking anyone in sight, as they were wont to do. Either way the situation over there could probably have benefited from the presence of a church Hunter. Stefan was not about to violate his orders and put the civilians in danger for the sake of the thrill... but he had hoped that they would give him an excuse.

“All right,” he nodded his head briskly, moving to head back they way they had just come, when his eyes caught a fleeting motion in that direction as well, maybe fifty meters (165 feet) away. It was too quick and brief for him to identify the motion, but less than a second later he heard the echoing sound of a door being slammed shut.
He relaxed. Whoever he had seen had passed through the incense outside a house, had opened a door and closed it behind them; it had been a person, not a beast. Probably just some frightened soul returning late to their home despite the tolling of the bells, fleeing the chaos that would descend upon the city once night fell. It was probably –
Stefan felt his stomach knot as a muffled, terrified cry filled the air, immediately followed by a much more intense, but also much briefer, scream of pain that was abruptly cut short. More screams. Voices of women and children, the echoes of which mixed with the whimpering of the civilians behind him. Sounds that Stefan was all too familiar with; the symphony of human slaughter.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Streets of eastern Central Yharnam

Moving at what would be considered a brisk walking pace for normal humans was to Stefan, as it would be to any Hunter, a frustrating exercise in patience. Humans were slow and frail, Yharnamites only slightly less so, and the ones Stefan had gathered and was escorting were no exception; even their current pace would probably tire these civilians eventually, while he could comfortably have doubled the speed and still not be able to comfortably keep pace almost indefinitely. Still, this trial was one he would happily endure to serve his master.
Ordinarily Stefan would only have moved this slow to minimize the sound he made, and could indeed make his traversal almost perfectly silent if he so desired, but even that effort he recognized would be pointless in his current circumstances. Though he could keep this pace and move silently, the rattle of clothing and pointless belongings, and the labored breaths coming from the civilians would alert any nearby beasts regardless of how quiet Stefan personally was.
This was an uncomfortable task, as it would have been for any Hunter; to have to use his skills in reverse, avoiding beasts rather than seeking them out, and to preserve life rather than end it went against the instincts of a Hunter... but it was manageable. Stefan, unlike some of the other Hunters, retained his self-control and restraint and, though he did feel the draw of blood, was no slave of it nor the violence associated with it. He hunted and killed not for sport or satiation, but with conviction and fervor; any word from Vicar Harold's lips was law, and Stefan took great pleasure in knowing that he was the instrument of their exalted leader's will. This task, though frustrating in its own way, was as grand a purpose as participating in the hunt simply because it was a purpose bestowed by the vicar.

For a second Stefan tore his gaze from the area in front of the group, where he had been vigilantly keeping watch for approaching beasts, to look behind him at the motley crowd trailing behind him, making a quick tally of their number and estimating that no one had been stealthily snatched from the group. His task had been simple: head to the southeastern part of the city and then start heading north, picking up any civilians along the way that did not have a safe place to spend this Night of the Hunt, and bring them to a designated shelter where they would be in relative safety. On nights like this incense was the single most important resource in the city, as it was practically the only defense civilians had against the scourge. The white church had built these shelters for any civilian that failed to build up a store of incense themselves, or who found themselves far from home at nightfall; there would be plenty of incense at the shelter.
This particular group of civilians was remarkable to Stefan, even though most of the dozen or so people in it were the fearful, pathetic and defenseless folk that made up the vast majority of the population of the city. The ones that were remarkable, however, were the few that were not panicking, who did not try carry all their worldly possessions with them on this life-or-death journey across the city, and who seemed to have the presence of mind to have actually armed themselves. “Discount Hunters”, some in the church called them; huntsmen. Yharnamites who were willing to risk life, health and sanity to aid in the hunt.
Or, as Stefan grimly estimated their worth: beast fodder.
One of these huntsmen was actually someone Stefan recognized, however: Draco Russ, a blacksmith that had occasionally been employed by the church for weapon maintenance for the Hunters. He had heard rumors that this man was one of the few to have survived the Night of the Blood Moon five years ago, and that he used to have been a huntsman, but tonight he saw those rumors proven as the guy seemed to have armed himself with a highly irregular... weapon? Stefan was unsure how to classify the monstrosity Draco was carrying with him. It looked somewhat like a pitchfork of sorts, but modified in a way that would make it useless as a tool. It had clearly been redesigned for use as a weapon, though the Hunter struggled to figure out what advantage this weaponized pitchfork offered over the much simpler spear.
He shrugged and turned his attention back to the street in front of them, forging ahead.

The particular street they had been moving down had been a relatively safe one, practically as far toward the outskirts of Yharnam as they could get while still being in the city proper. To their right the group was flanked by a sixty-five feet tall sheer stone wall that would make it incredibly difficult for beasts to approach from that direction. To their left was a row of residences beyond which lay the rest of central Yharnam, along with – far to the west – the Cathedral Ward, where the headquarters of the church resided. Most of the windows here were dark, with but a few occasionally shining light through drawn curtains, all of which Stefan checked to confirm that they had lit censers to keep them safe through the night. He also had to keep an eye on the rooftops, of course, since scourge beasts were quite capable of scaling buildings such as these and leaping from rooftop to rooftop.
Ahead and behind lay the open street, cobbled paths lit by widely spaced lampposts as the sun slowly made its way below the western horizon, casting the city in growing shadow. Aside from the sound of the civilians moving and occasionally talking in hushed voices, the silence was also occasionally broken by distant howls and gunshots, all of which Stefan noted to plan their course accordingly. Once the characteristic wail of a cleric beast had resounded from somewhere to the distant west, prompting Stefan to momentarily close his eyes and offer a silent prayer to Oedon for the weak soul from the Healing Church that had succumbed to the scourge. It was much too far to be a threat to him or his charges, though, and could thus be safely ignored for the moment. Other Hunters would deal with that; Stefan had a task of his own.

A short while after that, however, Stefan signaled the civilians to halt, squinting down the street uncomfortably. Initially he had merely felt some faint tremors in the ground, like heavy impacts, and heard some barely audible crashing sounds, but now he could actually make out two notable things ahead of them: one was an elevator shaft, stretching all the way from the street to the top of the eastern wall, and the other was the colossal form of a church giant lumbering about at the foot of it, seemingly in the process of smashing several much smaller figures with its massive axe. They were still some three hundred meters (or a thousand feet) away, making it too difficult to identify the smaller figures, but it was enough to tell Stefan that it was probably best to avoid the area.
“There's danger ahead,” he remarked to the people behind him, quickly trying to mentally map the area they were in to find an alternative path. He also unconsciously clutched his church pick, currently in sword-form, a little more tightly than usual. “We should go back south a little and find a street west, further into the city, so we can avoid the battle ahead. It'll mean taking a pretty significant detour, but it's probably safer that way.”

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

I'll get to work on a post that will set the scene for Stefan escorting Draco and some other civilians, potentially including Draco's remaining family if they would have been around him when the bells rang, toward an intended destination of a shelter where the civilians can hide until the Hunt ends. Once the scene is set you can start posting, basically RP'ing with me (since none of the other player characters will be in the immediate vicinity) until Draco finds other player characters.

I'm otherwise occupied just now, but I'll most likely have the post done tomorrow.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Okay, for starters, here's the character that will be escorting Draco and the other civilians with him:

Stefan

Name: Stefan
Race: Hunter
Age: Middle thirties
Faction: White Healing Church
Appearance: A plain but well-groomed gentleman, Stefan has a relatively lithe form the size of which contradicts how well-defined his musculature is, giving him a phenotype that could be described as athletic. He has fairly long legs proportionally to his body, lending to his mobility, and a fair bit of masculine width to his shoulders. His face is neither handsome nor ugly but mostly unremarkable, with his features having neither a masculine nor feminine emphasis – narrow jaw, thin lips, low cheekbones, full cheeks and a forehead of average proportions – but wears his facial hair in a neatly trimmed full goatee and his hair cut short and smoothed back. His hair color is dark brown, and his eyes, which have a slight outward slant and what seems to be perpetual bags of exhaustion under them, are a light hazel color.
His final battle left him bloody and beaten, his jaw broken, a lot of his teeth missing and the intestines ripped from his body. His body was later discovered and found to have had a wide swath of skin cut from his back, leaving a sizable area of naked flesh.
Height: 178 cm (5' 10”)
Weight: 95 kg (210 lb)
Clothes: Wears the garb of the white church, though the garb is now soiled with blood and torn open numerous places.
Hunter gear: A church pick is lying near his corpse, though its blade was broken in half, along with a burned-out torch.
Biography: Having contracted a rampant plague in a country northeast of Yharnam shortly before the Night of the Blood Moon, Stefan arrived in Yharnam mere days after that night to find the city practically in ruins and all infrastructure destroyed. With no organization or leadership there was no control or readily available experts in the Old Blood, and thus no way for him to receive blood treatment to save him from his wasting sickness.
Discovering this, Stefan, realizing that he would not have the strength to seek alternative means of treatment, found a shelter along with others in similar circumstances to himself. This crumbling ruin became his home for nearly a month, as he and his fellows struggled to feed and care for themselves in the ruins of the city, all while avoiding the beasts that still roamed, the opportunistic looters that endeavored to pick the city clean, and the remaining members of the old Healing Church that tried frantically to hold together the remnants of their organization. He watched dozens of desperate souls die, as often from their own failing health as from the teeth and claws of beasts, and found himself anticipating his own end with ever-lessening apprehension, at times almost wishing that death would find him sooner rather than later to end his pointless struggle.

At the end Stefan could barely even move anymore, his body thin and frail from sickness and starvation. He was slipping in and out of consciousness when suddenly he found their little shelter bustling with activity, with men and women in white garbs carrying the handful of survivors that remained from the place. Stefan himself awoke to find himself face to face with a man he later learned to be Harold, the new vicar of the Healing Church, and to be prepared for the blood treatment he so desperately needed. All he had to do was sign a contract, and he would be healed.
Thus Stefan became one of the first Hunters of the new Healing Church, and has served the white church with unquestioning loyalty and obedience ever since. He feels an endless debt of gratitude toward Vicar Harold and would happily give his life for him... or take any life that needs to be taken.

His mission on this Night of the Hunt was to escort civilians to a nearby shelter, though this mission unfortunately proved to be his last. He was assailed by a powerful beast-armed Hunter and was killed while trying to occupy this savage long enough for the civilians to escape.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Makes sense. Also sort of sounds like Draco and his family would be a good fit for the Fire Dancers with those tactics, had they been Hunters and willing to partake in crime.

One last question: what is the Russ family's (or Draco's specifically) relationship with the branches of the Healing Church? Indifference? Reluctance? Loyal? Antagonistic?

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

After giving it some thought and having started planning a post to introduce Draco into the RP, it occurred to me that the CS makes no mention of what Draco has been doing since fleeing to Yharnam proper besides "seeking shelter and safety". It has been almost five years (specifically about four years and eight months) since beasts and Hunters started invading Hemwick, after all, and I doubt that Draco and his remaining family would be taken care of as refugees for all that time. How did they survive? How has he been making a living?

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

To have had any kind of even partial success against beasts and creatures of the nightmare (like Mad Ones, who served the Witches of Hemwick), he would have to be a pretty extraordinary huntsman, yeah. I have to stress that he'll still have a really hard time and be at a significant disadvantage in pretty much any fight, though, and will most likely get himself killed unless he becomes a Hunter or a beast. Draco will basically be a slightly-better-than-normal-human facing off against mainly superhuman opponents.
As long as you understand that, I accept your character.