[center][h2]Our Lady of Misery Church, Annex of the Workshop[/h2][/center]

Edmund Horace was situated near a corner in the Church, listening intently to his only semi-official leader figure, Vicar Laurence. Edmund was meant to be here, being a Hunter and all, but you wouldn't know by how casual he was being right after the speech the Vicar just finished. He soon snorted and rolled his head,  a bit tired from something. If you knew him, you'd suspect it was due to his common exhaustion with crowds as big as this one. He hated such stuffed interiors, but he could deal with it. He nudged at the man closest to him, and looked him in the eyes.

"Does he [i]always[/i] talk right before a Hunt?", he commented. "Seems like a waste of time."

"Da man got nuthin' else to dew," Svenson sorrowfully mumbled sorrowfully as looked down at his blunderbuss, still upset that he had gotten his cannon taken away for "unnecessary, inappropriate and unethical use of explosive devices, "Still ain't believin' they took me damn lil' Svenson."

 Edmund put his left hand to his mouth to direct his snarky comment away from the rest of the crowd,  saying "I thought it was big Svenson, shriveling up a little?", snorting and having a giggle at his own jokey insult.

 "Noe, big Svenson's still in me pants. Unlike ye, there's a reason why they called me da "Hammerer" 'n also why I picked da Booma Hamma as me weapon o' choice. Just ask my woife, or your mother."

"Oh?", he quipped, " I thought you local-born Yharnamites hated foreigners. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't impress anybody outside of here with your 'Boomhammer' , it probably doesn't exactly ignite properly anymore does it?". He smiled at his companion, a shit-eating grin showing his true colors of simple tomfoolery.

"Unlike thou, my choice o' weapon is mo representational, unlike your compensation. It ignite plenty well too thank ye 'ery much, I got none o' dem leaky or tiny pipes you young 'uns boast to have better of."

"Eh, enough of this fight with dull word-shanks.", Edmund said, going on with an inquiry. "This'll be the first time ever really going out for me, not saying you guys didn't train me well, but... You know, is all that actually applicable? I'm not keen on dying the first seventh of a long night.". He grabbed at the Stake-Driver on his back, mostly to make sure it was still there and to make a point. "I'm not so sure if fisticuffs is totally like how this thing is supposed to work. It'll work in a fight, right? I'm not going to have to use my hands to do my job, will I?"

Sven cleared his throat and put a serious hand on the novice's shoulder, "Edmund. As 'un dem old 'n exprienced 'unters, I'ma give ye sum solid advioce." Looking at the greenhorn straight in the eye and putting a second hand on the other empty shoulder, Sven whispered, "You charge rioght in and smack the gits square in da face. If they tryna scream 'n holla at ya, yell at 'em rioght back, sho dat bitch 'oos da boss 'round here lioke dis!"

With that, the aged (and slightly wrinkly) Powder Keg let loose a deafening, guttural roar that echoed off the walls of the room. While it was untested, words and theories had been going around that if anyone could make a beast whimper and curl into a tiny ball by shear force of voice, it was Sven. "'N dats wot I call me 'Thooum. Shoulda 'eard it from my grappies doe. "E said 'e woize once chucka'd into jail for scare the shite out o' 'un o' dem nobly gits rioght 'n propa."

Edmund's eyes were widened as soon as his friend even opened his mouth for that display. Pale as a ghost, he only muttered a "Th-thanks, really needed you to make a [i]scene[/i]". He scratched the back of his head and began to slowly move out of the room, beginning to properly walk towards the exit as soon as he let out a monotone "I'll... familiarize myself with Yharnam Central." towards his boisterous buddy.

"Don't fogit dat if ya eva need sum 'elp, just givith a gud, loud 'n propa rawr!" Sven happily waved at Edmund as he left for the outside, his voice still holding lingering loudness of his booming roar, "Its saved sum peoples in da past ya know!"

[i]'Yeah, save some imebcile's life in exchange for drawing in more of them and his ear drums. Fair trade, certainly.'[/i], Edmund thought as he found his way out.

"Might I have a word?" A hand landed on each of the powder ganger's shoulders. Behind them was Ludwig and also what was remaining of the congregation, glaring at them. Thankfully, no vicar. "In private."

A cold sweat broke out on the back of Sven's neck as he turned around ever so slowly, hands shaking as it reached for his hammer ever so slowly, "Well... O' look at da tiome mista Lewdwiggles. Itsa purge o'clocku 'n tiome for me to go purge sum dem beast nah? Tiome fo da lads 'n laddies to get dem wheelios 'n saws 'n shite to go 'n purge sum beasties bitches? I'm shure dat my assiociate over there, 'un mista Edward Von Squishface 'ill be mo dan 'happy to fill you in on the rest o' dat details. Off tew work I go nao!", Sven quickly spat out before suddenly grabbed his hammer and bolting out of the room with speed never thought to be able to be reached by a human as he dashed his way into the street, hoping that he'd loose Ludwig's (or Lewdwiggle's) divine death glare.

Edmund , who was so happy with the fact he'd be the one to retreat, calmly breathed in and out while nodding. He turned to Ludwig with a forced smile on his face and said "Lead the way, Mister...?" 

"Ludwig..." He said as he grinded his teeth in silence. This... this was why he had a problem with the powder keg. The attitude. "...captain of the hunt." He made sign for Edmund to follow him and walked in silence for a while, letting that (and the stress) sink in. "... Edmund is it? I heard of you. How you follow our less... traditionalist elements." 

Being alone in a small garden, he stopped. "What do you think of our city thus far?"

Edmund paused, his face contorting into a mix of relief, confusion, and him slowly detecting a very possible trick-question. "Yharnam is very... unique.". He looked around the room, as if it'd give him some answers. Lovely flowers, though. "The Healing-Church is very.. gracious and effective with their Blood-Healing." Edmund loosened his collar. "Why I'm here. I, uhh... have a debt to Yharnam and I felt like being a Hunter would've been a good idea. It seemed like a very fair trade to me, Mr. Ludwig."

Ludwig nodded. "As it is." He turned towards Edmund. And smiled. "Edmund, you have a head on your shoulders and a brave heart, the two things I ask a hunter to have!" His smile softened. "What I ask of you is to remember what you just said in the next few days and keep doing what you are doing." And nothing more, this seemed to ask. "Why don't you take the next two days off? I couldn't help but hear your conversation and I agree, you'd do well to learn about the streets, patrolling the same area won't help that. Well, consider it training, you'll still be paid. How does that sound?"

"Well, alright.", squeaked Edmund, before he turned to leave the room, and from there the Church. "But I didn't sign up because it was easy, sir. I'll take my leave."