Bloodborne

Beyond the Hunters' Dream and Through the Paleblood Looking Glass

29 July 2023

"The Hunter wearied of lingering beside Gehrman in the dismal workshop, his idleness weighing heavy upon him. Once or twice, he dared to sneak a glimpse into Gehrman's arcane tome, but found no solace in its void of illustrations or dialogue. 'What use is a tome,' pondered the Hunter, 'bereft of images and discourse?'

Thus, as the somber atmosphere of the Hunter's Dream enshrouded him in lethargy and frost, he contemplated—albeit sluggishly—whether the joy of crafting a garland of nightshade blooms was worth the effort of rising and plucking the spectral flora. Then, as the Hunter lingered in this contemplation, a White Beast with eyes as pale as the Abyss itself darted past.

This spectacle, at first seemingly mundane, did not perturb the Hunter. Nor did it appear unusual when the Beast, murmuring to itself, uttered, 'Oh dear, oh dear, I shall be delayed!' In retrospect, the Hunter would wonder at the peculiarity of this utterance, but in that moment, it all seemed fitting. Yet, when the Beast, from its waistcoat-pocket, produced a timepiece and scrutinized it before scurrying onward, the Hunter jolted upright. A revelation seized him—he had never before beheld a beast with a waistcoat-pocket, nor one carrying a timepiece. Fueled by curiosity, he gave chase across the eerie field, his pursuit culminating as the Beast descended into a gaping chasm, concealed beneath the sinister hedge."

The Plain Doll

The Plain Doll thought she had never seen such a curious Great One in her existence: its body was sleek and grey, like that of a slug, although from its head sprouted a great many append-ages that twitched when her wooden hands brushed the damp skin.

“Are you cold?”

The little infant of a cephalopod nature twitched, its sleek skin shining in the moonlight as she held it up to peer at its face.

“Oh, Good Hunter.”

The Cheshire Crow

“…in that direction,” the Crow said, waving her right blade round, “lives Henryk, an old hunter, who has gone quite mad: & in that direction, is Father Gascoigne. Visit either you like: they’re both mad.”

“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” the Hunter said.

“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Crow.

“We’re all mad here. You must be, or you wouldn’t have come here.”

Going Down Further Into Yharnam

The Hunter, unscathed, sprang to his feet without delay. He scanned his surroundings, but an ominous darkness loomed above. Ahead, a corridor stretched endlessly, and the White Beast persisted in its frenzied descent. Time was a fleeting phantom.