Dark Jack

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

No no, I guess I was just erring on the side of caution as to whether to advance things before receiving confirmation that there was no further questions or conversations to be had before entering the next area. I apologize for the confusion, I just didn't want to propel Morgraine onward until I had definite confirmation that she was ready to be propelled...

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

@bloonewb, while I appreciate the initiative and would have been totally okay with it in a different collaborative writing effort, I would really prefer if you (and the players of the RP in general) abstained from describing as-of-yet unspecified details in the environment, let alone entirely new areas and NPCs. It makes it extremely awkward for me to GM the story if I don't control the context for your characters... you could even say that it's the entire point of the GM to do so.

I'd much prefer a very short IC-post or even just an OOC-post to a post that sets the scene. I ignored it so far because it has primarily been about environments just observed in passing, but... yeah. Generally speaking it is probably for the best to stick to your character, and if they interact with something or go somewhere I haven't detailed yet, that's probably a good point to end the post and let the GM take over.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

That's completely fine, that's why I asked. Heh, new result that came up for Arcturus was, ironically, "Nothing happens."

EDIT: Do you want to post Arcturus' reaction to his findings in the reception, or is he just heading straight through the lantern?

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Central Yharnam, Lower Cathedral Ward, outside the White Church Hunter's Workshop

Morgraine's question prompted a barely suppressed snort of laughter from Victor before he shook his head, smirking with mild amusement.
“Well, I'm going in there too and will point him out if need be, but...” He paused, simply walking the path closer to the workshop for a moment while idly tapping the blade of his small sword in his right hand against the side of the ornate box he carried in his left one. “I want to say that you'll know when you see him. Wears a foreign uniform, uses a unique sword that is his alone, looks like your typical fairy-tale prince... His full name and title is 'Dietrich of the Shining Wing, First Hunter of the white Healing Church.' A figurehead as far as I'm concerned, there to make humans fear Hunters less. Never seen him fight, but he seems to lead well.”
He glanced over his shoulder at Morgraine, evidently unworried by the other Hunters, church servants and giants around. “Anything else before we head in?”

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Eastern Yharnam, Hunter's clinic, reception

Arcturus stayed behind, now accompanied only by the sleeping Hunters in the back room and dozens of Messengers all eagerly watching him and occasionally trying to direct his attention to themselves or, more helpfully, to something they thought he might be interesting. A full, detailed examination of the reception would take a little while, though ironically it would be hastened somewhat by the devastation wrought on its furniture, as there were no closets or drawers left to open and almost everything was scattered on the floor and, at most, buried under debris. All in all only about fifteen minutes passed before Arcturus felt fairly confident that he had found everything there was to be found in the room.

Rummaging through the shattered glass and splintered wood of some of the smashed and knocked-over cabinets revealed the remains of numerous only somewhat recognizable destroyed blood vials. The glass of most of these was either shattered on impact with the floor or crushed under a boot, with their precious contents spilling onto the floor and being contaminated by glass and dirt. Not all shards were equally small, however, and some of the vials, being eagerly pointed out by Messengers, appeared to have been only partially destroyed, with an intact part – bottom or top – retaining some of the blood they normally held, seemingly still pure. If he was to retrieve all of these partially broken vials and combine their contents in another container, as was found in the back room, he would be able to recover the equivalent of a little over one blood vial among these remains.
Among the debris in another place, several meters from where Victor had discovered and been examining the box he had taken with him, Arcturus also discovered a small, unusually finely crafted ornate silver key. The head of the key was especially well-decorated, with one side being engraved with a symbol of an eye inside a pentagram, and the other a symbol that Arcturus, despite having most likely never seen it before, instinctively knew meant “Hunter”. Looking at the latter symbol of the key made Arcturus head itch for some reason.
Aside from that, there was very little to be found in the reception; while there were still the weapons left behind by the huntsmen from earlier, as well as the staff dropped by the dead Pthumerian, almost everything else appeared to have been destroyed by those same huntsmen during the attack. He found a few scattered papers near one end of the room, all of which were mercifully almost entirely intact and required only to flatten those that had been somewhat crumpled. Looking at them revealed that these papers did indeed appear to serve the purpose of contracts with would-be Hunters, but that these ones were all unfilled templates. His contract and those of the other Hunters being made this night were nowhere to be found.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Oh... hm. Okay, I think it's time to talk about one of the secrets I have been keeping from you, since this is the point where your input actually starts to be rather relevant in how this is done. You may have noticed how, when Nigel and Torquil used the lantern and went to the Hunter's Dream, that I included a part in the posts of them arriving that went:


With a little text describing them sensing something odd here.

This, I may as well clue you in on, is a consequence of them being false Paleblood Hunters; certain conditions will trigger events signified by that message, and one of those events happens to have been triggered on them going through the lantern to the Hunter's Dream.
OOC, what happens in practice is this: I have made a small application that I have, and when the event triggers, I click a button and the application randomly chooses one of more than seventy outcomes of that event. Technically speaking this happens through several layers of RNG in the background, with different likelihoods of different outcomes, but you don't really have to worry about that. All you need to know is that I made this to essentially place the results of these events outside even my own control (aside from me having decided the odds for each outcome and the list of outcomes to choose from) and make them truly random.
With Nigel, the application returned:

Nigel's consequence

For Torquil it was:

Torquil's consequence

But, here's the "but": some of these consequences involve physical changes to the characters' bodies, and one of those came up when I clicked in the application for Arcturus:

Arcturus' potential consequence

Now, I know that some players are highly invested in their characters' appearance, which is why I am now telling you all of this. I want to give you the option, at least for these particular results of the event, to veto the outcome if such a change hinders your enjoyment of the RP.

So... there. For DrabberRogue, I'd like to explicitly ask whether he is okay with something as described in the screenshot happens to Arcturus, and for everyone else, if the event triggers for your characters and results in physical changes to your character, always remember that you have the option to veto.
If you (any of you) reject the outcome of the event, I will simply click the button again and have it select a different outcome.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

We could do that, though it would still depend primarily on @rocketrobie2, who supposedly hasn't logged in for 7 days according to RPGuild... Had it just been Torquil it wouldn't have been a problem (obviously, since then the scene would be all NPCs).

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Oh, that's what was supposed to happen? I'm very sorry, I'll get right on writing something for Arcturus, then... though it might get a little awkward in terms of desync, since time will have passed since Nigel and Torquil went to the Dream, yet he will effectively show up before anything has really happened... Eh, I guess it is a dream...

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

It's quite all right, it hasn't been long enough to worry me. The other parts of the RP, on the other hand...

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Yharnam

Outside the Hunter's clinic

Morgraine's attempts at conversation earned little more than impatient, sideways glances from Victor aside from the occasional noncommittal grunt when it felt appropriate, mostly ambiguous enough that it could be interpreted as whatever she had wanted to interpret it as. It was not that Hunters, or servants of the Healing Church in general, did not exist as people, spoke with each other or occupied themselves with other things than working, as Morgraine worried, but rather that Victor was on a mission... and it was a Night of the Hunt...
...and it was difficult to focus his attention on her, for some reason, and even more so for him to interact with, or even be in the presence of, Adelicia. He had not really been close to the blood saint since he had rushed into the Hunter's clinic, but now that they were traveling the streets of their fair city once more, he found her presence far more distracting than when they had traveled to the clinic. He had no idea why, but for some reason he could smell her, and she smelled delicious. It made his mouth water, just catching her scent on the wind, and he felt his heartbeat quicken whenever his ever-shifting eyes caught sight of her.
He wanted to think that he was feeling towards her, and to some extent Morgraine as well, was just the attraction of a soldier in the field near someone of female persuasion, and did so, willfully and intently ignoring the ever-growing gnawing sensation in his stomach and the burning desire for red meat that had become a primary driving force for him to return to the Cathedral Ward: to eat. He was hungry... so incredibly hungry...

Having locked the door to the clinic with the key discovered inside, Victor lit the censer beside the door, hoping it would dissuade further attacks on the clinic, and cursed inwardly at what he perceived as a failure on his part to convince more of these Hunters to come with him. Granted, his stated mission was simply to escort Adelicia to the clinic and back, but the fact that he had recognized the true nature of this batch of Hunters as being all of the rare, immortal variety, as well as the unspoken objective of using Adelicia's blood to get these immortals addicted and thus ensuring the church's power over them, meant that the true, secret purpose of his mission – one not even Victor himself had been informed about – had mostly failed. Even Morgraine, who was coming along, at least, had not accepted Adelicia's blood and thus eluded the control of the church.
But there would be a time and a place for that. He would have to try to talk to Dietrich when they got back, as surely the First Hunter would know what to do.

The first stop on their journey was the house Draco had mentioned, easily recognizable from its lit censer. These houses were not abandoned, as Morgraine assumed, but rather freshly erected structures to support the explosive expansion of Yharnam and simply not yet inhabited by any of the crowds of people migrating to the city of blood healing. This one house, Victor knew, was where the refugees Draco had been traveling with had gone to hide when they had approached the clinic... and, he had said, where those Yharnamites that had attacked the clinic, and who had tried to kill Victor, had fled.
Victor ignored most of the terrified people in there, at most gracing them with a shove to move them aside so he could continue his search for the culprits from earlier. It was a small house, so the search was brief, and he found the four assailants from before, still bearing the marks he had left on them during their fight, hiding in a closet. They screamed, tried warding him off with their arms, and pleaded for mercy with tear- and blood-streaked faces.
Victor, grumbling about how his clothes were already ruined, was perhaps more brutal in dispatching them than was strictly necessary. Just a bit, though. A smirk had crept its way onto his lips when he left the house again, his bloodlust somewhat sated. He did not envy the poor clods that were eventually moving in here; they would never get the blood off.

The elevator

The sight of the bloodstains at the top of the elevator – quite a few of which were Victor's own blood – reminded the grizzled Hunter of how near death he had managed to come here, too, when the Mad One had ambushed him, Adelicia and Raine. He even recognized the lamppost he had punched in a fit of rage, and momentarily recalled the sensation of his bones breaking on impact and reassembling after.
They rode the elevator down to the bottom, only to find the giant he had left there earlier slain, along with several beasts and a Hunter of the white church. Once again Victor recalled what Draco had said, about how they had come under attack by an “insane Hunter,” and how their escort, Stefan, had been slain in the battle. The marks on the giants and beasts all looked to have been rent by claws, which meshed well with Draco's report that said hostile Hunter had had claws like a beast. Looking around now at all of this death and violence, Victor was in awe; this Hunter, whoever it was, had to be remarkably powerful. He has glad that they were no longer around, but also concerned as to what this Hunter, who had no qualms about slaying Hunters of the Healing Church, and who even seemed to be actively hunting them, would do next.

Victor's attention was drawn to the corpse of Stefan when Morgraine turned him over, glancing curiously at his slain colleague. His front was even worse than his back, it turned out; his face was beaten and bloody, his jaw clearly shattered and loose teeth swimming in half-coagulated blood in the back of his throat. The killing blow, most likely, had been the very conspicuous huge, gaping hole in Stefan's gut, with shredded intestines flopping out as he was turned. This was enough for Victor to raise an eyebrow, but little more, as even without Draco's testimony that a Hunter had been responsible for this carnage, that wound would have been enough to convince Victor: the result of a visceral attack, a Hunter-technique.
Rather than spare any glances at Morgraine, judgmental or not, Victor's attention remained on the corpse as he scurried over and quickly rifled through his pouches and pockets. As he had hoped, the church Hunter had a few supplies left for the taking, and he gleefully looted three blood vials and a couple of quicksilver bullets from the body.
“Sorry, meat,” he muttered under his breath as he pocketed his new acquisitions, “but I need it for the hunt. You'd do the same in my place.”

City streets

It was an incredible relief when they finally, after having to move at a mere brisk walk for what felt like forever, until the last hints of sunlight vanished and the crescent moon had begun its rise upon a starry sky, they got to deposit Adelicia at the shelter. The shelter itself was just a particularly sturdy and large building with a sizable store of incense, of course, where citizens could go to weather the Night of the Hunt. Literally the only reason to leave Adelicia there was to be rid of her... though Victor did hesitate when he sent her inside.
Would these Yharnamites respect her, even without a bodyguard? Would they realize who and what she was? Would they, addicted to blood like every Yharnamite, be tempted to attack the defenseless girl, inexorably drawn to her by the impossible potency of her blood?
But then, just when he was about to change his mind and call her back, a thought stopped him:
Will I do the same thing?
The thought disturbed him deeply and silenced his protest before he could speak it. It made him appreciate being able to run, like a Hunter should, all the more; let him vent a little of his nervous energy and served to put more distance between himself and temptation all at once.

The streets were mostly deserted, as was to be expected on not only a night but a Night of the Hunt, but they did encounter a few parties of huntsmen patrolling and Hunters darting in the opposite direction, heading out in search of prey. As they traveled, structures gradually grew denser, bigger, taller and more extravagant, as they delved into the heart of Yharnam where the elite lived, as close to the center of power as possible. Everywhere they looked were lit censers, their pungent smell discouraging any beasts from coming too near yet, though you never knew just how mad these beasts would get when the bells had tolled. All of these people, many of which still had light spilling out of their windows and laughter echoing in the streets, would be defenseless if the beasts grew frenzied enough to push through the incense.
But they had nothing to fear, of course; Vicar Harold had seen to that. The Healing Church had never been stronger, all due to how aggressively they had been creating more Hunters in the five years since the Night of the Blood Moon. With hundreds of Hunters in the streets, there was no way mere beasts would stand a chance.

Lower Cathedral Ward

Indeed, it was not long before they arrived at the outer gates of the lower Cathedral Ward, where most business – and all official business – was conducted, the great portcullis flanked by yet more church servants, several huntsmen and even another a church giant; a force that even a cleric beast would be mindful about facing. The portcullis opened at their approach, allowing them passage further into the ward, where the city was the densest and most decadent, and where the streets were patrolled by crowds of giants, dogs and huntsmen... where any enemy of the church would meet nothing but a quick end. The safest place in all of Yharnam...
And yet Victor felt uneasy, and kept averting his gaze from these mighty allies of his. Felt that they were a threat to him. He could not wait to finish his business here so he could head out and resume the hunt.

They were not actually going to the namesake Grand Cathedral, of course, as such was no place for Hunters. Instead they went to a different part of the Cathedral Ward, where manors, gardens and extravagance gave way to more spartan, military architecture. In the center of this place, where Hunters roamed in packs, they found a sizable barracks designed almost more as a small fortress, complete with watchtowers and giant cauldrons fit for pouring boiling oil. At the back of this building, furthest away from Victor and Morgraine, the stone pillar of another elevator could be seen stretching from the building towards the city above, the so-called upper Cathedral Ward.
“This is the White Church Hunter's Workshop,” Victor informed Morgraine as they approached, still feeling strangely apprehensive about coming here. “Inside you will find weapons, clothes, supplies... whatever you might need to hunt. Dietrich of the Shining Wing, the First Hunter of the White Healing Church, might also want to talk to you, since you're 'special'.”

---

One thing Morgraine might notice which Victor did not, interestingly, was that while she had seen Messengers absolutely everywhere – hiding in nooks and crannies, sitting on rooftops and windowsills, playing among grass and flowers and warming their little hands over smoldering censers – there was not a single Messenger in sight here.