Dark Jack

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Vileblood Queen's Chamber, Castle Cainhurst, west of Yharnam

While Ophelia spoke, Annalise's head seemed to abruptly perk back up again, and with a surge of effort she pushed herself back into a straight and attentive position. “Wait,” she urged. “Thou speak of the Lord of Providence? Thou'rt certain?” She shook her head, a note of distress sneaking its way into her voice. “Gods help us... we had read about the baneful Gilded Trickster, but that thou know to speak his title and not his name, thee must speak true. He has awakened again. This changes things.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Vileblood Queen's Chamber, Castle Cainhurst, west of Yharnam

“Thy blood is of Cainhurst, forsooth,” the queen conceded, “but not of my line. Thou are of noble stock, sired by one of our knights, but thou'st no royal blood, no oath and thus aren't Vileblood. I wouldst grant thee my blood, my oath and my rune; the curse inflicted upon me by the foul Healing Church, to be wielded against them. Ah, but thou didst not journey here for that, thou seek the chalice. I shall bestow the same quests upon thee as I did your companion, fair Lady Gerlinde.”
Gerlinde – who had been dutifully kneeling this entire time, next to a similarly kneeling but eternally confused Torquil – stifled a giggle.
“I have long been a prisoner, Lady Ophelia,” the queen told her. “Trapped within this room, on this throne, and within this accursed mask. Though I am Annalise, the Vileblood Queen, I am currently powerless against the woe that has befallen me, and have been for many years. I would defy this imprisonment at last. Due to the generous aid of thy Moonborn Hunter 'neath the blood moon, I achieved what my ancestors have always wished for and conceived our Child of Blood... yet I have not even seen my daughter's face. I would be free at last, to truly be a queen to my people and a mother to my children. I would be rid of my restraints. I would be rid of this mask.”
She made a wide, sweeping gesture toward all of them. “I bestow three quests, each of which may achieve this goal, moon-scented Hunters. The key that unlocks this mask will doubtlessly be found in the heart of the Healing Church, either in the Orphanage of the Choir, the Grand Cathedral or their Hunter workshop. Thou could also deliver me the power to defy the mask by retrieving the tools that make men Hunters. A single dose would suffice, though more is eternally better. Or, thou could travel the path of the Moonborn Hunter into the Old Labyrinth, to where they once did battle with my ancestor, Divine Queen Yharnam. The Moonborn already vanquished her, I hear, but they failed to retrieve a precious relic she has kept all these centuries: the dagger called Bloodblade, a weapon whose true power is only expressed by royal blood.”
She paused, coughing quietly. “Perform any one of these quests and I shall bestow thee the chalice thou seek. Perform more than one, and thou can count the Vilebloods as thy most stalwart ally.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Vileblood Queen's Chamber, Castle Cainhurst, west of Yharnam

The black figure took the darkbeast's arm from Farren without a word, holding it out in front of them in their arms with reverence as if they had received something truly precious rather than the half-rotted limb of an undead beast. Rather than slink back into the shadows from whence they had come, the figure this time walked back them and toward the back of the chamber, toward the great doors of the chamber.

When Ophelia spoke the Vileblood Queen scoffed, slowly and weakly slumping back into her seat. “Thou hast received my forgiveness for lack of etiquette already, distant kin, and thou shalt keep it. But do not presume that my gratitude for thy unexpected service is boundless; thou delivered thy news thinking that thou brought grave tidings of the defilement and death of my son, ignorant of the true vitality of darkbeasts. Thou'st earned a boon, but not one so great that I would grant thou a most sacred relic of Cainhurst.”
She sighed before continuing: “To my shame, I must also confess that I withhold the reward thou desire because I yet desire thy aid, so I am glad that thou offer leal service. For now, I offer thee this: thou'rt henceforth welcome in Castle Cainhurst, and if thou so desire, I shall grant thee my royal blood and my immortal oath, and make thee true Vileblood.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Vileblood Queen's Chamber, Castle Cainhurst, west of Yharnam

Slowly nodding her head, the queen declared: “Thou'rt to deliver the arm onto us. Immediately.” Once more she snapped her fingers, and once more the dark figure emerged from the shaded corner of the chamber, only to this time approach Farren rather than kneeling and awaiting orders, suggesting that they had overheard the conversation.
“We've no cause to invade Yahar'gul, nor any need for the aid even of moon-scented Hunters as thyselves,” was her answer to Ophelia's other offer. “Our champions will reclaim my son and bring him home, and will destroy any who'd defy my command. Once this has been achieved, thou'rt welcome to as much or little that might remain of that place.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Vileblood Queen's Chamber, Castle Cainhurst, west of Yharnam

The queen seemed to listen attentively to Ophelia's recounting of what they had learned, a faint air of impatience about her that was palpable despite the mask hiding her face. As soon as Ophelia's last word had faltered into silence and it was clear that she had finished speaking, the queen promptly raised her right hand and snapped her fingers.
No sooner had she lowered her right hand back to her armrest before movement stirred within the shaded parts behind the columns and banners in the room, and a figure appeared to simply materialize from the darkness itself. It was a tall, lean person of some kind, though their garb made it impossible to discern anything about their identity or nature beyond that. It was clad in a black monk's robe with its bottom dragging along the floor hiding the feet, the excessively long sleeves hiding the hands and the hood drawn up over its head to hide that, too. Even the face inside the hood was inexplicably indiscernible despite the multitude of lightsources in the room, suggesting that there was something less than natural about the shadow therein.

As was proper and without being prompted to do so, the summoned character kneeled before their queen.
“Tell Geir to assemble a platoon of knights and head to Yahar'gul,” the queen commanded without even pretending to look at the servant. “My son was seen there. Ensure he is retrieved, even if we have to raze the Unseen Village to the ground.”
The black figure bowed their head in silent acknowledgment, then stood without a word, stepped back into the gloom from which it had emerged, and disappeared.
“Thou who art ignorant, do not fear; Paarl is of royal blood, and has been killed before. Our line is hard to kill. I knew he had fallen to beasthood, but this is the first time I have possessed both knowledge of his location and the forces to retrieve him.” She coughed, her breathing heavy and strained, but remained tense and alert. “Thou hast earned this audience, forgotten kin of Cainhurst. These news are of great value to us. Thou may speak freely.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Vileblood Queen's Chamber, Castle Cainhurst, west of Yharnam

A dry chuckle escaped the masked woman, which sounded almost as though it threatened to turn into a cough. “Thou know much, it would seem, yet thou'rt audaciously ignorant of basic etiquette. I shall bestow the grace of forgiving thy transgressions, and tell that if thou'st to speak before thy Queen, thou will kneel.”
But while the Vileblood Queen seemed momentarily content to lounge in her throne slumping weakly in place, there was but a brief pause after her speech before her head abruptly perked up. From within the mask they heard her sniff several times, each sniff louder, more intense and more urgent than the last, until she gripped the armrests at her sides and – with what seemed like significant effort – pushed herself into a straighter and more attentive sitting position.
“Thou has the smell of Our family, yes,” she hissed, “but that is not all. Why dost thou bear the scent of Paarl? Dost thou know where he resides?”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Vileblood Queen's Chamber, Castle Cainhurst, west of Yharnam

So with the marker named and their questions asked, the party touched the marker on the Unseen headstone labeled “Vileblood Queen's Chamber” and, through the same process they had undergone many times already, found themselves falling asleep to leave the Dream.
An instant later they reawakened in a place that would be new and unknown to all but Gerlinde, who had been the one to light the lantern in the first place. As befitted the label it had been given, they found themselves in a grand, majestic throneroom, which without competition would be the most excessively lavish and thoroughly aristocratic place they had ever seen. The lantern they awakened at had been raised in the middle of a thick, soft and precious carpet under their feet and great banners at their sides woven in red and gold. Round, evenly spaced-out columns stood on either side spread out along the length of the chamber. Everywhere they looked were intricate and masterfully carved architecture, from the extravagant arches under the ceiling to the golden decorations on the columns. The room was lit by what seemed like hundreds of candles, many seated in golden candle holders but most just stood there, held firm to the ground by the melted wax at their base, casting the floor of the room in nigh-omnidirectional light while the tall ceiling above them remained shrouded in darkness.
Behind them, toward where they could see the double doors leading into the room at a distance, and to their sides, they also found that the room was positively crowded... but not by people. Evoking memories of the dreadful scene they had witnessed when they had entered Yahar'gul, the chamber was filled with dozens upon dozens of statues, though these were clearly of a nature much different than those from the Unseen Village. Whereas those figures had been hideously deformed and posed as if in agony and terror, these were much more traditional pieces of art. Regal men and women carved by a master's hand, clad in simple garbs but wearing crowns of laurels, carrying staffs and scepters, though many of them – mostly the women – were also nude, and most of their features were almost eerily beautiful. In among the rest, there were also several statues featuring women wearing crowns holding small children.
But doubtlessly, the thing that would grab their attention the most was what was in front of them, at the head of the chamber on a slightly elevated platform beneath a tall, beautiful stained glass window, bathed in multicolored moonlight. There stood two thrones, their frames – elaborately and ornately made – either gilded or cast from pure gold, with padding in rich crimson. The left throne was conspicuously vacant, but the one to the right was occupied by a woman in a simple gown, her form unhealthily thin and feeble, the skin on her exposed arms and neck pale. Long hair that looked like it might have once been blonde now fell lifelessly onto her shoulders, spilling messily onto her chest, from a head they could not see. Though they felt could feel the woman's attention upon them, it was clear that she could not see, as her head was encased in an elaborate metal mask.

“Oh? What is this?” the woman drawled upon her throne, raising her head curiously. “Who stand afore Us, in the heart of Cainhurst? Thy arrival was not announced.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Hunter's Dream

“Ah, I do know Flora,” the doll interjected as Ophelia started to leave, smiling in recognition of the name. “Flora is a different Great One, but a Great One nonetheless. You know them too, Ophelia and Gerlinde; Flora is the Paleblood that binds you to the Dream. The little ones are their messengers.”

Meanwhile the whispers of the Holy Moonlight Sword also replied: “It does not know. It does not remember. It is not whole. If you find its other half, perhaps it will remember. Perhaps it can help. Perhaps.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Hunter's Dream

Torquil simply turned to Farren and asked: “Isn't just 'sanctuary' fine?”

“The Shopkeeper's emotions and reasoning is difficult to describe in human terms,” the doll began answering Ophelia's questions. “They intend to remain here as they are, good Hunter, but their mind no longer works in ways where 'happiness' applies. They want to hunt and aid Paleblood Hunters, so in that respect you have already helped.
As for the rest, I am afraid that we don't know. All of the Shopkeeper's ascendant selves destroyed at least two Great Ones before ascending, and many of them three. Only the death of one Great One caused ascension, not the others. We also do not know those names you mentioned, good Hunter,” she admitted apologetically, “but I suppose neither of us knew the true names of most Great Ones. The one the Shopkeeper slew we knew as the Orphan of Kos, Mergo's Wetnurse and the Moon Presence. The realms of the Orphan and the Wetnurse we assume to be gone or assimilated into other Nightmares, and the realm of the Moon Presence... well.” She made a vague gesture at the ground at their feet.
“Neither of us know enough of how it works to tell you if new realms can be made either,” the doll added hesitantly. “But we can only assume that if realms can merge or disappear, they can also split or be created. But we have no clues as to how this could be done.”

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

The Hunter's Dream

The Shopkeeper nodded at Ophelia's words, and the doll answered: “We can do that, good Hunter. But your questions... For one, Rom only became what some refer to as a kin Great One – one that possesses some properties of Great Ones, but do not truly number among the gods; a sort of demigod, you could call them – whereas the constituents of the Shopkeeper that ascended did so as a true Great One. By this very nature, the Shopkeeper is an existence beyond the likes of Rom or Ebrietas. But saying that Rom became 'lesser' is inaccurate, good Hunter. Her mind may have shifted so that thought on a mortal level became more difficult and sluggish, but it did just that: shifted. The Great Ones minds even more so than their power is of another world. To you, most Great Ones appear simple, perhaps even stupid or downright vacuous, but only because you cannot comprehend them, just as you cannot comprehend their speech.”
She glanced at the Shopkeeper before continuing: “The reason the Shopkeeper retains much of their human self is due to their nature as an amalgamate of many Hunters, only some of which ascended. The one you see here is the Moonborn Hunter, not the Moonborn Great One. Many parts of them are much less human.”
Pausing, the doll frowned. “As for how the Shopkeeper ascended... simply put, they had to become the surrogate child of the Great Ones. Under the blood moon several children were created at the behest of Oedon, all of which expired at birth or during the night. The Shopkeeper consumed their umbilical cords to become such a surrogate, and then killed the Great One whose realm of the Nightmare they were already bound to: this one.”

A short distance away, Gerlinde froze, then slowly turned to fix a wide-eyed stare at the doll. Though she was still smiling, there was something strained about the expression and an even deeper tinge of madness to the expression than usual. “So... children of the Great Ones are the secret to ascension?”
The doll hesitantly nodded her head. “You could put it that way, good Hunter.”
“And Rom was a scholar of Byrgenwerth who ascended?”
“Yes, good Hunter.”
Gerlinde let out a manic giggle. “Ah. I suppose that explains why they had me give birth to all those creatures.”