There was a folk tale in the rural regions of Vale, where communities were widespread and...
Hunter's Dream [Bloodborne X RWBY]
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0.1
There was a folk tale in the rural regions of Vale, where communities were widespread and security always at a big risk.
It told of an abandoned city, somewhere in the Grimm-infested badlands, one that was so grand that, despite being worn down by nature for centuries, still held most of its shape!
There were more related rumors. Some said there was some kind of treasure in there, one so valuable that no one could even imagine what it was!
Others talked about a cure to all diseases, hidden deep within the city boundaries, but the one thing the stories had in common was the rumor of a guardian of the city, who had guarded it from its downfall to the present day.
And that consistency was apparently enough for the editor of a nationwide newspaper, The Valean Gazette, to send a young, fresh reporter to the badlands to find out if there was any truth behind the tales.
Said reporter, Gray, was having a bad time.
Not only were the accounts of the locals totally varying from one another, the badlands were uninhabited for a reason- the Grimm were just to plentiful.
So, he was running for his life. Despite having received basic training in anti-Grimm maneuvers, he couldn't take a pack of Beowolves on his own.
His only option was to run deeper into the woods and pray desperately that he could lose them, but he knew his end was uninevitable.
Grimm had a nose for negative emotions, and he was a prime source for that. The Grimm would never lose track of him until he died.
But he kept running. He couldn't understand why he was running, or how he was running this long, when he wasn't in very good shape, but he ran like death was on his tail, which it was. He ran for his life.
The first change was in the atmosphere.
As he ran, the damp smell of the forest gradually changed, giving way to the faint smell of city sewers.
But he didn't notice it, for his nose wasn't really interested in smelling while being chased by deadly abominations.
The next change came abruptly in the form of a gravestone. He nearly tripped over it, but managed to catch himself before falling down to an untimely doom.
Then, he noticed the rows and rows of tombstones, and realized he was in a graveyard. Well, that didn't bode well, but it also meant there was a settlement nearby.
He ran through the graveyard, Grimm still hot on his tail, and prayed he could find a town soon. But he didn't.
Instead, he found the lost city.
As he ran past the tombs, he found himself following a path- made of cobblestone, lined with iron fences- surrounded by stone houses!
The houses must have been at least five hundreds years old, judging by the state of disrepair and the architectural style, but Gray had no time to admire it.
The Grimm didn't care whether the streets were concrete or stone. So he kept running, past the dark streetlights, past the odd statues, towards a round plaza.
The plaza, unlike the houses, seemed to be repaired and maintained.
In fact, a person was sweeping the stones with a broom.
"Help!" Gray, winded from the run, wheezed. "Grimm!"
The person looked up at him, seemed to have a moment of decision, and came running towards him, stick pointed forward.
As he came closer and closer, Gray could see the stick was not a broom at all, it was a spear. With the business end pointed straight at him.
Gray yelped and dodged, rolling to the side.
As the spearhead slipped past him, it impaled a Grimm straight through the face-mask, cracking the white and spurting out blackness from underneath.
The Beowolf stopped, quite literally, dead in its tracks. Then the stranger yanked out the spear from the dissipating head, and swept it in a set of quick, wide arcs, cleaving through Grimm like they were butter.
One Beowolf, presumably an experienced alpha, jumped back even as its fellows fell. That didn't do it much good; the spearman pulled back, readied himself, and lunged forward, gutting the Grimm and spilling black goo all over himself.
Gray could only watch, sitting on his ass, as his pursuers were decimated in mere seconds.
"You alright?" The stranger asked, reaching out a hand to him. The spear was already put away, slung on the man's back.
"Yeah," Gray replied, taking the hand. "Thanks. For saving my life."
The stranger shrugged, an amused look on his face.
"Just doing my job." He replied. "But, say, what brings a non-hunter like you to this damned place? It's not safe around here, as you must have experienced."
That was a question Gray was eager to answer. "I'm a reporter, for the Valean Gazette. For some reason, my editor wanted to do a special edition on a 'fabled city'. I couldn't find it, and wandered for hours. I guess I finally found it?"
The stranger gave him an incredulous look, then scowled.
"Why on earth would you seek this accursed place? I made sure to spread rumors of dangers lurking here! This city must be forgotten! Buried! Never again must the tragedy of Yharnam be repeated!" He shouted with zeal, and sighed.
"But, I suppose, you deserve a shard of the truth. Follow me, we will discuss the nature of this city, in a more secure place." With that, he turned and started to walk away, and Gray had no choice but to follow.
They walked through the city, and Gray took the opportunity to take some photographs of the buildings.
They were Gothic in style, with towering towers with sharp tops, and had mostly fallen into disrepair.
The streets were narrow and winding, and often led into the oddest of directions, but seemed to be maintained.
There were also those weird statues everywhere; they almost seemed to be religious in nature, but judging by the piles of rubble, many of the sculptures had been destroyed, likely intentionally.
His guide lead him to a small building near the heart of the city.
As this was the only well-repaired building among others, Gray presumed this was where he lived.
It was right next to a small chapel, though its entrance had been blocked off.
When they entered, Gray was greeted with a library. The first floor was packed with bookshelves, which in turn were packed full with books.
Diagrams and samples were displayed along the walls, showing the figures of odd, inexplicable creatures.
The stranger walked between the rows, leading Gray to a flight of stairs that lead to a more residential second floor.
A fireplace, unlit and cold, was on the other side, next to a rocking chair. A table with a teapot stood next to a desk, which had a half-written page on it.
A large wardrobe covered an entire wall, while a collection of wooden chests littered the floor.
The stranger plopped himself in the rocking chair, and gestured to the chair in front of the desk. Gray took the hint and took a seat himself.
"So, you say you wanted to find something to write about? For your newspaper?" The man asked, and Gray answered.
"Yes, but before we talk about that, may we be acquainted with ourselves? I don't recall being introduced. I'm Gray. Junior writer for the features section of the Valean Gazette." The stranger paused, seemingly unsure of himself.
"Well, in that case, call me Sanguine, the self-appointed caretaker of this forsaken place."
Gray had activated the recording function of his scroll at some point, but did not tell this to Sanguine. He didn't seem to care, though. Instead, he asked a completely random quesiton.
"Tell me, Gray, do you seek the truth? Will you spread the truth, no matter what? Is it worth it to you?" Gray blinked. Was this a trick question, one he had to answer correctly to get his interview? He couldn't tell.
"Well, I guess that depends on what the truth is? I mean, if it's something that should stay hidden to keep others safe, I say leave it alone." Sanguine seemed thoughtful for a moment, then nodded his head.
"I shall tell you the truth, then. A minimized version of the events that conspired here. You may record this to your liking, though I doubt it will help you very much." Gray readied his scroll, just for show. With another sigh, Sanguine started his story.
"A long, long time ago, this city was alive, as one could have easily guessed. It was a city famous for its blood healing." Gray raised a hand to ask a question, but Sanguine waved it down.
"The Healing Church was the cornerstone of the healing, of course, but, unfortunately, the blood was also the undoing of those fools. A disease spread through the blood, turning men into beasts. And that was the downfall of Yharnam. All the men turned into beasts, and the hunters hunted them down. The end."
Sanguine clamped his mouth shut, and Gray just sat there, dumbfounded.
"Wait, what do you mean, the end? That can't be it, there must be more to this place than just that! What am I supposed to write my article about? That an ancient civilization that existed here got wiped out by some supposed disease that turned people into beasts? That won't be enough material for a featured article!" Sanguine snorted.
"Well, that's your problem. I'm not saying any more."
It told of an abandoned city, somewhere in the Grimm-infested badlands, one that was so grand that, despite being worn down by nature for centuries, still held most of its shape!
There were more related rumors. Some said there was some kind of treasure in there, one so valuable that no one could even imagine what it was!
Others talked about a cure to all diseases, hidden deep within the city boundaries, but the one thing the stories had in common was the rumor of a guardian of the city, who had guarded it from its downfall to the present day.
And that consistency was apparently enough for the editor of a nationwide newspaper, The Valean Gazette, to send a young, fresh reporter to the badlands to find out if there was any truth behind the tales.
Said reporter, Gray, was having a bad time.
Not only were the accounts of the locals totally varying from one another, the badlands were uninhabited for a reason- the Grimm were just to plentiful.
So, he was running for his life. Despite having received basic training in anti-Grimm maneuvers, he couldn't take a pack of Beowolves on his own.
His only option was to run deeper into the woods and pray desperately that he could lose them, but he knew his end was uninevitable.
Grimm had a nose for negative emotions, and he was a prime source for that. The Grimm would never lose track of him until he died.
But he kept running. He couldn't understand why he was running, or how he was running this long, when he wasn't in very good shape, but he ran like death was on his tail, which it was. He ran for his life.
The first change was in the atmosphere.
As he ran, the damp smell of the forest gradually changed, giving way to the faint smell of city sewers.
But he didn't notice it, for his nose wasn't really interested in smelling while being chased by deadly abominations.
The next change came abruptly in the form of a gravestone. He nearly tripped over it, but managed to catch himself before falling down to an untimely doom.
Then, he noticed the rows and rows of tombstones, and realized he was in a graveyard. Well, that didn't bode well, but it also meant there was a settlement nearby.
He ran through the graveyard, Grimm still hot on his tail, and prayed he could find a town soon. But he didn't.
Instead, he found the lost city.
As he ran past the tombs, he found himself following a path- made of cobblestone, lined with iron fences- surrounded by stone houses!
The houses must have been at least five hundreds years old, judging by the state of disrepair and the architectural style, but Gray had no time to admire it.
The Grimm didn't care whether the streets were concrete or stone. So he kept running, past the dark streetlights, past the odd statues, towards a round plaza.
The plaza, unlike the houses, seemed to be repaired and maintained.
In fact, a person was sweeping the stones with a broom.
"Help!" Gray, winded from the run, wheezed. "Grimm!"
The person looked up at him, seemed to have a moment of decision, and came running towards him, stick pointed forward.
As he came closer and closer, Gray could see the stick was not a broom at all, it was a spear. With the business end pointed straight at him.
Gray yelped and dodged, rolling to the side.
As the spearhead slipped past him, it impaled a Grimm straight through the face-mask, cracking the white and spurting out blackness from underneath.
The Beowolf stopped, quite literally, dead in its tracks. Then the stranger yanked out the spear from the dissipating head, and swept it in a set of quick, wide arcs, cleaving through Grimm like they were butter.
One Beowolf, presumably an experienced alpha, jumped back even as its fellows fell. That didn't do it much good; the spearman pulled back, readied himself, and lunged forward, gutting the Grimm and spilling black goo all over himself.
Gray could only watch, sitting on his ass, as his pursuers were decimated in mere seconds.
"You alright?" The stranger asked, reaching out a hand to him. The spear was already put away, slung on the man's back.
"Yeah," Gray replied, taking the hand. "Thanks. For saving my life."
The stranger shrugged, an amused look on his face.
"Just doing my job." He replied. "But, say, what brings a non-hunter like you to this damned place? It's not safe around here, as you must have experienced."
That was a question Gray was eager to answer. "I'm a reporter, for the Valean Gazette. For some reason, my editor wanted to do a special edition on a 'fabled city'. I couldn't find it, and wandered for hours. I guess I finally found it?"
The stranger gave him an incredulous look, then scowled.
"Why on earth would you seek this accursed place? I made sure to spread rumors of dangers lurking here! This city must be forgotten! Buried! Never again must the tragedy of Yharnam be repeated!" He shouted with zeal, and sighed.
"But, I suppose, you deserve a shard of the truth. Follow me, we will discuss the nature of this city, in a more secure place." With that, he turned and started to walk away, and Gray had no choice but to follow.
They walked through the city, and Gray took the opportunity to take some photographs of the buildings.
They were Gothic in style, with towering towers with sharp tops, and had mostly fallen into disrepair.
The streets were narrow and winding, and often led into the oddest of directions, but seemed to be maintained.
There were also those weird statues everywhere; they almost seemed to be religious in nature, but judging by the piles of rubble, many of the sculptures had been destroyed, likely intentionally.
His guide lead him to a small building near the heart of the city.
As this was the only well-repaired building among others, Gray presumed this was where he lived.
It was right next to a small chapel, though its entrance had been blocked off.
When they entered, Gray was greeted with a library. The first floor was packed with bookshelves, which in turn were packed full with books.
Diagrams and samples were displayed along the walls, showing the figures of odd, inexplicable creatures.
The stranger walked between the rows, leading Gray to a flight of stairs that lead to a more residential second floor.
A fireplace, unlit and cold, was on the other side, next to a rocking chair. A table with a teapot stood next to a desk, which had a half-written page on it.
A large wardrobe covered an entire wall, while a collection of wooden chests littered the floor.
The stranger plopped himself in the rocking chair, and gestured to the chair in front of the desk. Gray took the hint and took a seat himself.
"So, you say you wanted to find something to write about? For your newspaper?" The man asked, and Gray answered.
"Yes, but before we talk about that, may we be acquainted with ourselves? I don't recall being introduced. I'm Gray. Junior writer for the features section of the Valean Gazette." The stranger paused, seemingly unsure of himself.
"Well, in that case, call me Sanguine, the self-appointed caretaker of this forsaken place."
Gray had activated the recording function of his scroll at some point, but did not tell this to Sanguine. He didn't seem to care, though. Instead, he asked a completely random quesiton.
"Tell me, Gray, do you seek the truth? Will you spread the truth, no matter what? Is it worth it to you?" Gray blinked. Was this a trick question, one he had to answer correctly to get his interview? He couldn't tell.
"Well, I guess that depends on what the truth is? I mean, if it's something that should stay hidden to keep others safe, I say leave it alone." Sanguine seemed thoughtful for a moment, then nodded his head.
"I shall tell you the truth, then. A minimized version of the events that conspired here. You may record this to your liking, though I doubt it will help you very much." Gray readied his scroll, just for show. With another sigh, Sanguine started his story.
"A long, long time ago, this city was alive, as one could have easily guessed. It was a city famous for its blood healing." Gray raised a hand to ask a question, but Sanguine waved it down.
"The Healing Church was the cornerstone of the healing, of course, but, unfortunately, the blood was also the undoing of those fools. A disease spread through the blood, turning men into beasts. And that was the downfall of Yharnam. All the men turned into beasts, and the hunters hunted them down. The end."
Sanguine clamped his mouth shut, and Gray just sat there, dumbfounded.
"Wait, what do you mean, the end? That can't be it, there must be more to this place than just that! What am I supposed to write my article about? That an ancient civilization that existed here got wiped out by some supposed disease that turned people into beasts? That won't be enough material for a featured article!" Sanguine snorted.
"Well, that's your problem. I'm not saying any more."
Last edited:
Dromeosaur
Feathery Raptor of snowy planes and frozen sea
- Location
- The land of Trees and Squirrels
This is an unusuall idea. Looking forward to see what would happen next.
Yharnam has fallen. Sanguine is the only person left there. Over many years, he has collected the secrets of Yharnam, like the art of blood healing, and buried them in a, well, secret place. The eldritch abominations you mention have also abandoned the city in favor of more profitable, lively places. Those places may or may not be on Remnant.
0.2
Gray's spirit drooped. All those hours of wandering, of risking his life, just to get a two-minute dialogue? It wasn't fair. The editor would not like this.
"Please, kind sir," he begged, "like I said, I'm just a junior writer, and my editor will fire me if I screw this article! Is there anything more you can tell me about this place? What about the supposed 'treasure' that the local stories speak about? Is there any truth behind it?" Sanguine snorted once again, though it seemed more full of contempt.
"Bah, the locals tell stories like that? Well, that's a pile of horse shite. There is no 'treasure' here. Only bad memories, and the bodies of monsters that should be well left alone."
Gray thought about it; the graveyard he ran through was very large, even for city proportions. Some graves had huge monuments as tombstones; could they be?
"Erm, in the graveyard I passed, on the outskirts of the city, I saw gigantic monuments. Were they built to mourn the victims of the beasts?" He asked, and Sanguine replied, though hesitant.
"No, not those. Those were the graves of the beasts. They needed to be big." He refused to elaborate, and Gray tried another question.
"This city is called Yharnam?" Sanguine nodded. "And you told me that nobody except yourself lives here any more, and that you can't tell me the history of this place." Another nod. "Then, can you tell me about the city's structure? As in, how the city is organized and whatnot."
Sanguine rubbed his forehead, but replied.
"I don't know how you plan on writing an article from this, but I'll tell you, if it satisfies your curiosity. We are in Central Yharnam, where most of the population used to live. To the West, across the bridge, is the Cathedral Ward. One bridge has fallen down, but one will still be standing. To the North lies Old Yharnam. It was the founding place of the city, but also the first area to be quarantined and burned down. I have blocked the path that leads there; nothing is left, anyways. These areas make up the city of Yharnam." Gray nodded eagerly as he scribbled something on a notepad.
"I see. Well, what about the surrounding areas? Any points of interest?" Sanguine's eyes narrowed.
"I refuse to elaborate. Go find out yourself, if you're brave enough, but I discourage you."
Gray stopped his pen. "Secret you want to keep hidden?" He asked, tentatively.
"Aye." Was Sanguine's answer, and Gray did not ask further.
Instead, he poked and prodded at various shallow subjects, ones that Sanguine might not take offense at. It was quite surprising how little source material one actually needed to write a newspaper article, and Gray had enough information for his job.
"Well, that is all I need. Thank you for the interview, sir. I'll need to be heading off, daylight's burning." Gray said, as he stood from the chair. Sanguine stood with him.
"It's not safe out there. I should make sure you get back to a town safely." He said, and Gray could only appreciate it, and nodded his thanks.
"Please wait a moment, I need to prepare. Would you mind waiting in the library?" As he said that, he opened the great wardrobe, and Gray took it as a cue to go downstairs. He carefully stepped between the book piles on the floor, and one certain book caught his eye. 'How to Pick Up Fair Maidens'. Gray smirked. Even a hermit who lived in an abandoned city seemed to be interested in wooing women.
When Sanguine came down, he was dressed in a black leather longcoat over a similar black leather vest. It appeared that this was his 'hunting outfit', that most professional hunters had. The spear was gone, and in its place was a silver sword.
"Alright, I'm all set. Did you leave anything behind? Pen, scroll?" Sanguine asked, but Gray had already checked everything. "Nope," He replied, "I'm good to go."
Sanguine opened the front door, and stepped outside, into the great, mysterious ruins of a city. Gray followed, closing the door behind him. The orange light of the setting sun bathed the building, unto the caring, porcelain face that peered from the third-story window.
"Please, kind sir," he begged, "like I said, I'm just a junior writer, and my editor will fire me if I screw this article! Is there anything more you can tell me about this place? What about the supposed 'treasure' that the local stories speak about? Is there any truth behind it?" Sanguine snorted once again, though it seemed more full of contempt.
"Bah, the locals tell stories like that? Well, that's a pile of horse shite. There is no 'treasure' here. Only bad memories, and the bodies of monsters that should be well left alone."
Gray thought about it; the graveyard he ran through was very large, even for city proportions. Some graves had huge monuments as tombstones; could they be?
"Erm, in the graveyard I passed, on the outskirts of the city, I saw gigantic monuments. Were they built to mourn the victims of the beasts?" He asked, and Sanguine replied, though hesitant.
"No, not those. Those were the graves of the beasts. They needed to be big." He refused to elaborate, and Gray tried another question.
"This city is called Yharnam?" Sanguine nodded. "And you told me that nobody except yourself lives here any more, and that you can't tell me the history of this place." Another nod. "Then, can you tell me about the city's structure? As in, how the city is organized and whatnot."
Sanguine rubbed his forehead, but replied.
"I don't know how you plan on writing an article from this, but I'll tell you, if it satisfies your curiosity. We are in Central Yharnam, where most of the population used to live. To the West, across the bridge, is the Cathedral Ward. One bridge has fallen down, but one will still be standing. To the North lies Old Yharnam. It was the founding place of the city, but also the first area to be quarantined and burned down. I have blocked the path that leads there; nothing is left, anyways. These areas make up the city of Yharnam." Gray nodded eagerly as he scribbled something on a notepad.
"I see. Well, what about the surrounding areas? Any points of interest?" Sanguine's eyes narrowed.
"I refuse to elaborate. Go find out yourself, if you're brave enough, but I discourage you."
Gray stopped his pen. "Secret you want to keep hidden?" He asked, tentatively.
"Aye." Was Sanguine's answer, and Gray did not ask further.
Instead, he poked and prodded at various shallow subjects, ones that Sanguine might not take offense at. It was quite surprising how little source material one actually needed to write a newspaper article, and Gray had enough information for his job.
"Well, that is all I need. Thank you for the interview, sir. I'll need to be heading off, daylight's burning." Gray said, as he stood from the chair. Sanguine stood with him.
"It's not safe out there. I should make sure you get back to a town safely." He said, and Gray could only appreciate it, and nodded his thanks.
"Please wait a moment, I need to prepare. Would you mind waiting in the library?" As he said that, he opened the great wardrobe, and Gray took it as a cue to go downstairs. He carefully stepped between the book piles on the floor, and one certain book caught his eye. 'How to Pick Up Fair Maidens'. Gray smirked. Even a hermit who lived in an abandoned city seemed to be interested in wooing women.
When Sanguine came down, he was dressed in a black leather longcoat over a similar black leather vest. It appeared that this was his 'hunting outfit', that most professional hunters had. The spear was gone, and in its place was a silver sword.
"Alright, I'm all set. Did you leave anything behind? Pen, scroll?" Sanguine asked, but Gray had already checked everything. "Nope," He replied, "I'm good to go."
Sanguine opened the front door, and stepped outside, into the great, mysterious ruins of a city. Gray followed, closing the door behind him. The orange light of the setting sun bathed the building, unto the caring, porcelain face that peered from the third-story window.
Dromeosaur
Feathery Raptor of snowy planes and frozen sea
- Location
- The land of Trees and Squirrels
This scene was refreshingly normal compared to decades or centuries of seclusion the hunter experienced.
IllegibleScream
Actually a goat.
- Location
- A petting zoo
Tentatively watched. Will anyone from the main cast be appearing?
So far, it seems a little disjointed, but when dealing with Bloodborne lore that's almost a certainty.
So far, it seems a little disjointed, but when dealing with Bloodborne lore that's almost a certainty.