On second thought, you're not really a craftsman, and while there's a certain deep satisfaction in bludgeoning heathens to death with something you put together with your own two hands, your "furious arm of the LORD" spiel would fall apart pretty quick if it broke after three hits.
Luckily, you know someone who's better at this than you are.
You start chopping bits off here and there; a section of arm and a chunk of leg, which took four hits in the same spot to cut through, vanish up your sleeves
"Wait," Eileen says as you prepare to inter its tail. She and Iosefka walk up to you and stare intently at your sleeve. "Alright, go ahead."
You do so. The women look at you, at each other, and back to the sleeve.
"Do you think you could pull it back out?" Iosefka asks. You do so, then put it back in more slowly. Even Maxwell wasn't dense enough to miss the joke here, but you're better than that.
Also, Eileen would probably stab you a lot. She points a finger at you.
"Tomorrow morning. You promised."
You grin and return to the head, plucking out a few medicine ball-sized eyes.
"So what, exactly, do you intend to do with all of that?" Eileen asks.
"I was thinkin' o' makin' some kinda club out of it. Y'know, beat the heathens over the head with the irony o' their situation. It's symbolic."
She looks at you for a moment.
"You just find the concept of bashing people with the pieces of a giant alien monster hilarious, don't you."
Damn this woman and her incredible powers of deduction.
"I mean, I've got a legitimate reason," you say. "I've only got tools for stabbin' and slashin'. I need somethin' for bludgeonin' purposes. Gotta cover my bases."
She merely shrugs. Your logic is flawless.
"And what of the rest of it?"
"It's up ta Doctor Iosefka. If she wants ta take a look inside, she's welcome to. Or we could burn it, of course."
"I think," Iosefka says, "I would like to take a look, but not until everything's ready in the chapel. Would you mind putting one of your wards around it before you go to Old Yharnam? Just something to keep the scavengers off."
The crows look offended.
"I can do that, sure."
The three of you walk back inside. Fiddle and Emma are currently organizing the limited amount of supplies Iosefka managed to bring from the clinic.
"Do you intend to build that weapon yourself, Father?" Eileen asks.
"Nah. Figure Gehrman might appreciate a new project."
"You'll be returning to the Dream, then?"
"Just ta drop off the material."
Eileen nods and turns to Iosefka.
"I'll get to work trapping the Workshop door. I managed to scrounge quite a few guns from the citizens you dealt with. Doctor, do you think you could help me take some of these apart? I'll walk you through it."
"Alright."
They make their way over to the pile of assorted blades and firearms as you walk towards the lantern. The girls look up at you.
"Goin' back ta the Hunter's Dream for a moment. Don't worry, ye don't have ta carry my fat arse this time."
They wave and you kneel down by the crooked stem. The chapel dissolves around you into the emptiness of sleep. Or are you the one dissolving?
Is that an ontological or a logistical question?
Whatever the case, Hope seems mildly surprised when you rise from the brick road of the Dream.
"Did something happen, Hunter Anderson? It has not been long since you departed."
"Nah, just wanted ta speak ta Gehrman again. I've got a project for him."
"Of what sort?"
"Got some new material for him ta work with. I was hopin' he could make a weapon out of it."
She smiles. "He's not made one in some time. I am sure he will appreciate the chance to create something new. He is in the Workshop."
You ascend the stairs to find him sharpening a curved, black blade on a whetstone near the workbench.
"Back so soon?" he says without turning around.
"Are ye gonna ask me a question without turnin' around every time I come back?"
"Why not? I can tell when it's you and it saves us the trouble of awkward hellos."
"Point. Anyway, I was wonderin' if I could put in an order for a commission."
"Oh?" He puts the blade on the bench and swivels to face you. You reach into your sleeves and pull out the slabs of giant spider one-by-one. His eyes widen exponentially with each one and look about ready to fall out by the time the tail clunks to the floor.
"How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"The thing with your sleeves."
"Why is everyone so caught up on that?"
"Why wouldn't they be?!"
He wheels his way forward and hefts the tail with an impressive effort. He raps on the carapace with his knuckles and prods it with the freshly-sharpened blade.
"Strong stuff. What is it?"
"Great One cutlets."
He takes this news with impressive stoicism. "Trying to one-up Izzy, are you?"
"That's the plan. I was hopin' ye could make some sort o' club out o' this. If ye wouldn't mind, o' course."
He puts the tail down and picks up one of the eyes.
"Careful with that. I think it shoots explosions. If ye could incorporate that, it would be awesome."
He rotates it so that the "iris" is pointing towards the ground and continues his examination.
"Well, Father Anderson," he says, putting the eye on the bench, "I can safely say that this is the most interesting request I've ever had. I can't think of any way to charge you for my services, save that I'll expect you to use it if you run up against any hostile Hunters. Indulge an old man's vanity and show them that my designs still work."
He scoots his way past you towards a chest, from which he extracts a set of assorted tools.
"I'll get to work right away." He extends a free hand with a grin. "Pleasure doing business with you, Father."
[] Stay until Gehrman finishes
[] Return to Yharnam, come back at another time
-[] Go to
--[] Old Yharnam
--[] Grand Cathedral
[] Write in...
