Dark Jack

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The White Church Workshop, Upper Cathedral Ward, high above western Yharnam – Ophelia

“You are free to come and go as you desire, as are your fellows on the other side of Yharnam,” Dietrich declared, loudly enough that the others in the hall could hear him. Then he lowered his voice once more to normal speaking volume: “As I said, unless I am needed for a hunt, you can find me here.”

With that and a final, elegant bow, Dietrich turned and started climbing the stairs, heading back to his office and returning to his duties as First Hunter, leaving Ophelia to her victorious exit from the White Church Workshop under the envious glares of men and women of the church alike. But though she still garnered some attention, she could see and hear business in the workshop resume its normal pace even as she left, and by the time she had returned to the golden lantern the sounds that reached her from there were practically indistinguishable from when she had first arrived. Despite all that had happened, it seemed that the machinery that was the workshop, and perhaps the White Healing Church as a whole, kept churning just the same.
Though the golden lantern was obviously different from the one she had used at the clinic on Rebirth's Rise, it proved to function exactly the same as it, in spite of the lack of Messengers. She looked into the light and felt herself rapidly growing drowsy, then fell asleep and awoke back in the Dream.

The Hunter's Dream – Ophelia

She found herself in the exact same place she had awoken the first time she had come here, and the Dream itself seemingly unchanged. The doll and the Shopkeeper stood idly by the side of the gravel path leading up to this much smaller workshop, and the birdbath remained sprawling with numerous Messengers.
Immediately upon awakening in the Dream, two Messengers emerged from the ground at Ophelia's feet and urgently unfurled and held up a scroll for her to read:

“Victor’s blocking the Clinic door on our way out. You’ll need another lantern to rejoin us.” - Farren

Farren’s Message

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The White Church Workshop, Upper Cathedral Ward, high above western Yharnam – Ophelia

“So it was the sword that told you that? How remarkable,” was Dietrich's response to Ophelia conveying what the Holy Moonlight Sword had told her about him. He thoughtfully tapped his index-finger on his chin, looking intently into her eyes. “I wish I knew what it meant, but perhaps I am not meant to know. We can only try our best to play with the cards the gods have dealt us. Or perhaps, if the vicar's experiments bear fruit someday, I might experience the Dream and its secrets one day as well.”

Regarding the rest of what she had to say about runes, meeting him when he joined the hunt and about demonstrating how formidable each of their swords were, Dietrich's smile faltered slightly. “That may be difficult. It is the paradox of being the most powerful Hunter of the Healing Church: I am the one who could slay the most beasts the safest, but I am the one who is held in reserve and has to stay here until called. My duty is to oversee my Hunters, but otherwise I am only to join the hunt if we encounter something too dangerous for the others to handle. But if we do chance upon each other – perhaps after this night has passed, in more peaceful times – I would be honored and grateful.”

The Prophecy - Dreams of Destiny

Freagon, Yanin, Jaelnec and Jordan – Outside the Fadewatcher station, Borstown

“Want the same?” Freagon repeated, scratching his deeply scarred skin thoughtfully. “I can't imagine that'd do them much good. They'd have to die first, and there aren't any benefits to it. On the contrary. I wasn't 'restored' so much as I was just 'made functional' when I was resurrected. You're right that the process was costly, both for me and the one who did it. It's why I'm still scarred like this.” He gestured to his one-eyed face. “New wounds can be healed, but even magic can't fix this anymore.”

“That sounds nice,” Jaelnec commented on Jordan's recounting of his time with his master, smiling at him even though he felt a slight pang of envy. He had a vague feeling that he had heard about the Galeids before, but could not quite pair the name with a place or a family in his mind. None of the names mentioned meant much to him either, except from Sir Yanin of course, but just hearing the names somehow made them feel more real. “You forget to appreciate having people around you can call friends. Sir Freagon...” Jaelnec shot a nervous glance in the direction of his master. “He's very goal-oriented, and has no patience for anything that isn't productive. I bet he's seething right now because we're not just going straight to the bandits. Part of me is surprised he hasn't just decided to wipe them out himself and run off on his own.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The White Church Workshop, Upper Cathedral Ward, high above western Yharnam – Ophelia

“Ah no, of course not, I did not mean to imply otherwise,” Dietrich immediately assured her when Ophelia pointed out that the sword no longer belonged to Ludwig. “He was a hero of legend, to be sure, but one who is no longer around to lay claim to this magnificent blade.
And the sword speaks to you, you say?” Though many would likely have reacted to anyone claiming an inanimate object was communicating with them with anything ranging from skepticism to worry, this admission only seemed to further fuel the flames of the First Hunter's fascination. “Why, I would have to be mad to turn down the wisdom of an artifact that belonged to my predecessor! Did you know that I based the design of my Shining Wing on its legend?” He gestured over his shoulder at the silver greatsword on his back. “With some utilitarian liberties taken, of course.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The White Church Workshop, Upper Cathedral Ward, high above western Yharnam – Ophelia

Dietrich listened attentively as Ophelia spoke and offered a few comments when appropriate, the first one of which followed her mention of the Messengers: “Yes, Moira also told me about those, and Gerlinde also complained that they would not come here. I'm afraid I can't tell you why, because I have no idea. All that Nightmare-stuff is a bit beyond me, I'm afraid.”
The next time he spoke was when she mentioned Moira and the tales of her prowess. “Indeed, I have witnessed Moira fight in person, and she's quite formidable indeed. I have nothing but respect for her... though it pains me that she not only spurned our Healing Church, but ended up forming her own and causing a schism among the Hunters of Yharnam. I can only pray that our goals remain aligned. I would hate to have to kill her.” There was no mirth in those last words, only grim resolve.

And finally, of course, he had to answer her question regarding the Vilebloods and her garb. “Ah, don't worry about it too much, the dress you wear under your robe just happens to bear a striking resemblance to that traditionally worn by female Knights of Cainhurst, which the old Healing Church dubbed 'Vilebloods'. I can't speak on whether their blood is vile or not – that doesn't interest me – but those who now call themselves Vilebloods are sworn enemies of the Healing Church. Knights dressed similarly to you, only without the robe, have attacked and killed many of our Hunters over the years. I can't blame them for getting up in arms when seeing something like that, especially when that someone is carrying some manner of glowing, eldritch artifact.
Speaking of which...” Dietrich's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he took half a step closer before whispering conspiratorially: “Is that actually Ludwig's Holy Moonlight Sword?”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Below Rebirth's Rise, Eastern outskirts of Yharnam – Farren and Torquil

Torquil was the first to follow Farren out of the elevator, his shield raised defensively to cover his body, neck and the lower part of his face and his axe awkwardly raised to the side, ready to strike. Victor took another couple of seconds to start moving, his eyes fixed on the immobile White Church Hunter in the distance.
“But... we had a bloody giant...” he muttered, shifting the ornate case he was still carrying from his left hand and up into his left armpit to free up his hand and retrieve the blunderbuss from his belt. “The servants were already dead when we got here, but the giant was just sleeping. What kind of monster can fight a giant and a Hunter?”
The street itself was almost disturbingly deserted and quiet, with the only movements being bits of cloth or wooden shutters on the windows of residences lazily moving in the wind. Unlike the houses above, there were a couple of houses down here with lit censers outside their doors and windows and with light inside, though even those seemed to have fallen deathly silent on this as of yet moonless night.

Without another word, Victor started moving – albeit slowly and cautiously, sword and gun at the ready and his eyes on his surroundings – past the dead giant and toward the fallen Hunter.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The White Church Workshop, Upper Cathedral Ward, high above western Yharnam – Ophelia

“Of course, of course,” Dietrich nodded his head, crossed his arms and looked off to the side at nothing in particular, seemingly lost in thought. “What Hunters need is pretty simple, I can do that no problem. The map is more of a challenge; Yharnam has changed a lot and very quickly in the past five years, both with rebuilding and expanding... I'll see what I can do. Lend me your quicksilver canister and I'll fill that, for starters.”
The First Hunter received the container and once more ventured behind the closed door in the corner, leaving Ophelia to the din and activity of people preparing for the Night of the Hunt. He was gone for longer this time, giving her more of an opportunity to observe her surroundings if she so desired. Hunters kept showing up, getting their weapons and leaving again, and possibly for the first time, Ophelia would begin to realize just how many Hunters there were in Yharnam. Even though she was just standing there for a couple of minutes she witnessed nearly a full dozen Hunters coming and going, and none of those were the five she had first encountered when she arrived at the workshop. The Hunters also kept shooting suspicious glances at her skirt, being the most visible part of her dress past her robe, but now none of them seemed inclined to actually confront her about it.
She might also notice several of the civilians across the room, predominantly women, stealing glances at her and whispering among themselves, some with knowing smiles, others with frowns of disapproval or envious sighs. It would probably not be too hard to guess that the First Hunter did not usually provide this degree of personal attention to his other subjects.

Returning after about five minutes, Dietrich emerged into the hall carrying a small armful of supplies. Though his expression was initially neutral, serious and thoughtful, it brightened into a smile as soon as he laid eyes on her, and he approached her eagerly and with a spring in his step to deliver what he had scrounged.
“First of all, the quicksilver canister,” he said, handing the named object back to her, which was now filled with gray liquid. “Just beware that what's in it is only mercury until you add a few drops of your blood; only then does it become quicksilver. I notice you don't have a gun, so I might suggest you pick one up from that table over there, otherwise the bullets aren't going to be much help.” He nodded his head toward the table Ophelia had observed earlier that was bulging with pistols and blunderbusses, though the selection here was obviously far inferior to what she had seen in the Hunter's Dream.
“Here's a hand lantern,” he continued. “It has a little hook right here, see, that's handy for hanging it on your belt. In case you need to go somewhere dark. And since you are a Paleblood Hunter, here's a couple of doses of antidote, too, in case you contract ashen blood. They won't cure the disease, but they'll treat the symptoms until you return to the Dream... at least that's how Moira explained it.
And, of course, your map.” He handed her a large rolled-up piece of paper. “It's not quite up to date, I'm afraid; this is from about four years ago and doesn't have the newer expansions, but the parts it does show should be somewhat accurate. Sorry, but I'm afraid it's the best I can offer at the moment.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Eastern outskirts of Yharnam – Farren and Torquil

“Well, that settles it,” Victor nodded approvingly. “Soulkeeper is the Harrow's boss, so it's definitely them.”
Torquil awkwardly shuffled onto the elevator as the last of them, making excessively sure to inch along the outer frame of the cage to stay as far away from the button in the middle as possible. At that point there was no reason to avoid the button, of course, so Victor just sighed, leaned over and stomped one foot on the plate, prompting the sounds of chains and machinery to start back up again and they began to descend.
“Stefan is waiting at the bottom,” the White Church Hunter told the others while they waited. “The top was more defensible, of course, but we got lucky and found a giant sleeping down here. So if something happened, Stefan could just wake... up the... giant...”

Victor's voice gradually faltered as he looked out the folding doors of the elevator – the ones on the opposite side from where they had entered – at the streets of the city coming up toward them. He sounded surprised and frightened, and as they reached the end of their descent it became clear why.
The cobbled street they found themselves in, with the elevator taking up a spot right in a T-intersection, bore the marks of a battlefield. Blood was spattered everywhere, numerous cobblestones were cracked, crushed or cleaved through in gashes, some of which were huge and clearly left by an enormous weapon while others seemed to be left by claws. Scattered around the area were a number of bodies, each with its own assortment of terrible wounds that could have, and likely had, caused their deaths.
Three of them would seem familiar to Farren, not just because their appearance bore a passing resemblance to Pallid with their large bodies, pale skin and black eyes, but because they were recognizably church servants. One of the servants in particular looked like he had been thoroughly maimed in horrid ways, with his limbs looking as though they had been clawed, twisted and stretched far beyond what was healthy, suggesting that the creature had been viciously tortured. The two other church servants each had a cane lying on the ground near them, but there was no weapon near the maimed one; either he had been unarmed, or something had happened to his weapon.
A short distance from where the servants were found, an even larger form lay inanimate across the street. The church giant's arms and legs were sprawled out to the sides as it lay face-down in an immense puddle of blood, with an axe too large for any ordinary human to lift, let alone wield, sat lodged into the cobblestone next to it.
And another several meters away still, further past the dead giant, they were just barely able to make out the form of a still form of a human-sized and -shaped figure, wearing what looked like a bloodstained White Church Hunter garb.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Lumenflower Garden, Upper Cathedral Ward, high above western Yharnam – Ophelia

The trip back down the stairs and back to the busy main hall of the workshop was short enough that their conversation took up pretty much the entire duration. Dietrich was back to smiling and carrying himself with the elegance and confidence that was typical of him, but someone paying close attention might notice that his gaze flickered more than before, as if looking for something.
“If you would please lend me your vial-bag and wait here a moment, I will go fill it for you,” he told her, indicating a door furthest back and to the right below the stairs. Ophelia gave it to him, and he – assuring that he would be right back – left to get what she needed.

“Something here watches and listens... even to its whispers...” the ephemeral voice of the Holy Moonlight Sword conveyed into Ophelia's mind, seemingly sensing her worry. “Something very powerful resides here... Something ancient touched the Huntress' mind... It could not stop it... It is not enough...”

A few seconds later Dietrich came back and, true to his word, returned a bag that was now much fuller and heavier than before; opening it and looking inside would reveal that every single one of the twenty padded slots inside it was now occupied by a pristine blood vial. The cap of every vial was marked by the same symbol she had seen on the banner in Dietrich's office.
“There you go,” he told her with a smile. “I do hope you and your companions make it back here safely. Even setting aside my personal feelings on the matter, I do have some matters I could use some help with, and I know the same is true for the vicar.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Lumenflower Garden, Upper Cathedral Ward, high above western Yharnam – Ophelia

Harold slowly nodded his head in thought at Ophelia's question of whether there had been anyone assigned to watch over the clinic, but rather than offer an answer he simply turned wordlessly to Dietrich and looked at him expectantly.
“There were supposed to be people there, yes,” Dietrich reported, and for the first time a note of anger sneaked its way into his voice. “Two blood ministers and four helpers were supposed to be there, but I suppose the cowards must have panicked and run off when the first bells tolled. They're probably cowering in a shelter somewhere right now... and from the sound of it –” He glanced at Ophelia for confirmation. “– they didn't even light the censer at the door before running.”
“I see, I see...” Harold nodded his head again, more firmly this time. “See to it that they are reprimanded in the morning.”
“It shall be done.”
Nodding his head resolutely, Harold continued: “With that out of the way, you heard her; make sure she gets a batch of blood vials to take with her.”
But Dietrich winced at this. “Ah, yes, of course... but Victor is –”
“No buts!” The vicar waved an admonishing finger at his First Hunter. “They need blood vials, so they get blood vials! A full bag of Hunter-grade ones; that should be plenty to get back here for another resupply.”
Dietrich sighed. “Yes, Lord Vicar.”