[h3]Industrial Ward, Southeastern Yharnam[/h3]
The old blacksmith reflexively took a step back when Ophelia entered the building, in part intimidated by the realization that his workshop had been visited by not one, but multiple Hunters, and in part because she was carrying a huge glowing sword. As impressive as something like that was even to other Hunters, it was something from the realms of impossibility in the eyes of regular civilians such as this one.
The three other workers kept working, though they clearly slowed down quite a bit and tried their best to overhear the conversation.
“Right, right,” he muttered, his tone almost apologetic and clearly submissive. “Aye, we heard plenty. Obv'isly everyone heard tha' big ol' beastie howlin' like a randy tomcat earlier, but we heard even more, we did! Damn thing came 'round here and went stompin' 'round our roof! T'was so loud, we thought t'was gonna break and come tumblin' in here. Had us holdin' our breath, it did. Even killed a few o' the crows, stupid mutt. Pissed Crowmother right off.”
He turned to Farren. “The talismans keep monsters away. Crowmother taught us to make 'em.”