"Morgam!" comes the reply from the old man, his long, thinning hair and jowls shaking in excitement. "Not for lack of trying I'd say. How the hell are you boy?"
"Heh. Been worse, but I've been better too. Should've just stayed in the North." He responds, shaking his head. "But since I'm stuck here for now, maybe you can help me with a problem."
Morgam goes on to explain the man he's looking for, how he came with the refugees and brought a little girl, but leaves out all the monsters. He explains the "undercity" they found, in vague detail, and finally, he produces the strange watch. "Ever seen anything like it?" He asks, sure he already knows the answer.
"It's a watch" says Alucious with a slight shrug. "A nice one, I'll give you that. Who'd you nick it off of? One of those desert mites rolling in from Loran?"
"It's a watch that don't tell time, Zane. It tells something else." Morgam says gruffly before putting it away. "Something's brewing. You've got to have something for me. Rumors, market changes... what's going on in the shadows, Zane?" He asks with a sigh. "I'm not in that world anymore."
"Woah, son, slow down. Didn't know you were looking for that sort of help. I was just going to say I know a fence who could move that watch no problem, broken or not."
"You said you were looking for somebody right? One of the foreigners? Any reason why?"
"I think I'll hang onto it for now." Morgam responds with a pat on his pocket.
"Yeah, looking for a guy with some tattoos. I don't know what his business is in Yharnam, but he's trouble. I want him out of this town or dead."
Morgam spits to punctuate the statement.
"Sounds like he crossed you awful bad, scary stuff."
"What I know - foreigners like that are rats, and rats end up in the gutters. We usually kick em out of the places where we're doing business and I can have my boys keep an eye out as a favor. He must have a nest in some dump somewhere. Frankly with how things are going these days he'll probably end up missing or dead sooner or later, even without your help"
Sybille starts to ask around the workshop, the Church, and streets in general whether anyone knows about where refugees gather, and if anyone saw a tattooed one recently.
Morgam nods. "We ain't friends."
With a scoff he responds, "Well that'd be my luck, but something tells me he's not going away that easy. So yeah, keep an eye out. I'll owe ya."
Morgam looks to his left and to his right, as though he half-expects to see the tattooed man right there watching them.
"If there's anything you can find on another city beneath this one, I'll pay you in gold. Or better." He adds as he prepares to leave.
"Oh and Zane? Take care you don't end up missing or dead yourself. Like you said, these are troubled times. And you know I don't do funerals."
Sybille doesn't learn much during her investigation, at least not anything that she didn't already know. Refugees are common in Yharnam, and are treated as dregs by virtually all of the normal citizenry. They tend to end up in the rotting gutters of old town or naturally migrate to the outlying hamlets.
One name does keep coming up during the investigation: Archibald. She knows him as an eccentric among the workshop, an inventor for the church. Turns out she's not the only one asking about refugees - Archibald has had an unquieting earnest interest in them of late and has been asking around, particularly for anything related to Lodran.
"I imagine" replies Zane with a laugh "I'm not worried about it though, people have been going missing lately, but it's mostly folks disappearing off the streets of old town in the middle of the night so I just steer clear..."
"So you've got an interest in the Pthumerians now, eh boy?"
Morgam pauses. "The what?"
He turns back towards Zane. "You know something about them?"
"You said you were keen on the underground, I figure that means you're interested in the Pthumerians. Popular opinion is that all sorts of ruins in this area, including ones under the city itself, are theres."
Sybille looks for Archibald to have a conversation. If she can't, she arranges a meeting for a later date.
With a couple of days to themselves and no tasks immediately before him that require his attention, Sigmund decides to dig a little deeper into what might be below the city. He decides to start with a bit of research into the history of Yharnam. He heads off to find himself a library of some kind.
"You said you were keen on the underground, I figure that means you're interested in the Pthumerians. Popular opinion is that all sorts of ruins in this area, including ones under the city itself, are theres."
"Well I'll be damned..." Morgam responds to the new information.
"Anything you can tell me about these Pthumerians? You ought to know the hiding places of this town better than me by now."
Dominic himself will, first things first, find himself a bath and a change of clothes. Then a meal, and a carriage to one of those effete nobleman's clubs that distressed young provincials seem to attach themselves to like barnacles.
Sybille looks for Archibald to have a conversation. If she can't, she arranges a meeting for a later date.
Finding Archibald will takes navigating the Cathedral Ward. He is not difficult to find, all you need do is follow the trail of individuals telling you to avoid the eccentric. The trail leads you to a small apartment nestled beneath a staircase on the south side of the ward.
With a couple of days to themselves and no tasks immediately before him that require his attention, Sigmund decides to dig a little deeper into what might be below the city. He decides to start with a bit of research into the history of Yharnam. He heads off to find himself a library of some kind.
[Dice=Diplomacy (Gather Information)]1d20+8
[dice=Knowledge History]1d20+8
Sigmund finds a chronicle of six journals written by an unnamed hunter that called himself a "tomb prospector"
These prospectors were agents of the workshop that worked closely with the Byrgenwerth college to explore the Pthumerian Labyrinth. You quickly realize from these writings that the scope of the ruins is far beyond what you encountered, apparently running both deep and wide beneath Yharnam. Numerous traps, cave-ins, and unruly inhabitants are the only thing confounding their full search.
"You said you were keen on the underground, I figure that means you're interested in the Pthumerians. Popular opinion is that all sorts of ruins in this area, including ones under the city itself, are theres.""Well I'll be damned..." Morgam responds to the new information.
"Anything you can tell me about these Pthumerians? You ought to know the hiding places of this town better than me by now."
"I'm not much of a scholar, that's for those folk at the college. I can tell you the gossip though. They say that the Pthumerians were capable of supernatural feats and had amassed a glowing civilzation the likes of which has not been rivaled before or since. Then something drove them underground. Here's the kicker: they were ruled by a Queen and do you know what her name was?"
"Yharnam"
Dominic himself will, first things first, find himself a bath and a change of clothes. Then a meal, and a carriage to one of those effete nobleman's clubs that distressed young provincials seem to attach themselves to like barnacles.
How's Dominics relationship with the rest of Cainhurst currently?
"I'm not much of a scholar, that's for those folk at the college. I can tell you the gossip though. They say that the Pthumerians were capable of supernatural feats and had amassed a glowing civilzation the likes of which has not been rivaled before or since. Then something drove them underground. Here's the kicker: they were ruled by a Queen and do you know what her name was?"
"Yharnam"
Morgam shakes his head. "Supernaturals? A queen? Yharnam?" He mutters a curse. "Do the rumors say what sent 'em underground, and why the ain't around anymore?" He asks with a disgusted look on his face. "Or why they're so damn fond of traps?"
Zane shrugs again "Rumors are rumors, some say they were gods and angels, some say they all died out in a plague, some say they weren't real at all. Who's to say what's really true?"
"As for what may be left behind in the tunnels...well, I suppose there must be something down there worth a damn."
"I'd better go ask some questions. Maybe shake down one of those scholars you mentioned." Morgam says with narrow eyes. "Thanks for the tips. And keep your head down, Zane, if you want to keep it. I got a bad feeling."
Finding Archibald will takes navigating the Cathedral Ward. He is not difficult to find, all you need do is follow the trail of individuals telling you to avoid the eccentric. The trail leads you to a small apartment nestled beneath a staircase on the south side of the ward.
Sybille knocks. "Master Archibald? Are you home?"
Finding Archibald will takes navigating the Cathedral Ward. He is not difficult to find, all you need do is follow the trail of individuals telling you to avoid the eccentric. The trail leads you to a small apartment nestled beneath a staircase on the south side of the ward.Sybille knocks. "Master Archibald? Are you home?"
There's the sound of banging and broken glass in response to Sybilles knock. A short moment later the door creeks open just enough for her to see the bespecticaled face of a man with a long, grey beard.
"Who is it?" he mumbles curtly
"Sybille, with the workshop. I heard you are interested in the refugees. If that is true, then we should talk."
Sigmund's mind is awash with ideas as he reads and learns more and more about this giant subterranean city underneath the city of yharnam. Seeing as he has a few days of free time, he decides to continue to try and dig deeper into this underworld.
He begins to browse more books, journals and tomes, trying to find any references more specific to the things he and his companions encountered under the city.
"Sybille, with the workshop. I heard you are interested in the refugees. If that is true, then we should talk."
The door swings open and Sybille is struck by the full sight of the man. He wears long grey woolen robes which would be unassuming normally were it not for his stature. Standing at near 7ft tall he absolutely towers, stooped over in what now seems like a terribly cramped space. Around him books, papers, and equipment are stacked high in random piles all around save for a few well traveled lanes.
"Well? What of it then? Be quick please I'm very busy."
Sigmund's mind is awash with ideas as he reads and learns more and more about this giant subterranean city underneath the city of yharnam. Seeing as he has a few days of free time, he decides to continue to try and dig deeper into this underworld.
He begins to browse more books, journals and tomes, trying to find any references more specific to the things he and his companions encountered under the city.
[Dice=Gather information]1d20+8
[Dice=Knowledge Geography]1d20+3
[dice=Knowledge Dungeoneering]1d20+8
The more you look, the harder it is to find. Infuriating. You did through countless documents until the myth and rumor bleed into the precious few facts.
You do find an interesting tidbit. A scholarly journal published by the collegiate that details a material they have dubbed "Paracrea Siver". It describes a metallic compound with physical and material qualities similar to silver, yet a behavior that is reminiscent of an organic. The authors not that it appears to move autonomously when not under observation. Curiously, details regarding the origin of the substance have been redacted entirely.
The door swings open and Sybille is struck by the full sight of the man. He wears long grey woolen robes which would be unassuming normally were it not for his stature. Standing at near 7ft tall he absolutely towers, stooped over in what now seems like a terribly cramped space. Around him books, papers, and equipment are stacked high in random piles all around save for a few well traveled lanes.
"Well? What of it then? Be quick please I'm very busy."
"I'm not sure whether you heard yet or not, but me and some other Hunters met a strange refugee, who could transform. He doesn't seem like a usual kind of Beast. We also delved into underground ruins, and encountered several strange thing. Diaries, a preserved human heart, a suit of armor and a clock with an old symbol of Fall. We're trying to piece things together, and maybe we can help each other?"
"Ah, you mean ruins beneath the city? I am afraid am not the best resource of information on the subject. Rather, my interest lies with Loran and the people fleeing from it by association. Can you tell me more of this refugee? Did he come from thete?"
"Yes, he was one of them. Some were infected by the beast and turned, so we had to kill them. Most were fine. He managed to run away, so I'm not exactly sure about his condition, but I'm told he can lift a man with one hand and turn him into a beast."
"That's...fascinating. If what you say is true it could change our understanding of the plague at a fundamental level! Finding this man is imperative. You said he was a refugee, correct? I know they tend to congregate in the lower parts of the city. Can you remember anything else about him? Any distinctive features."
"He's blonde and has a black tattoo on his face and down his neck. Probably goes down further."
Archibald nods. "Then I shall seek out my contacts in the church and have them search for this man. In the meantime, I understand that the refugees tend to congregate in the lower slums of Yharnam. Their extreme poverty and lowly status forces them into these groups. I would warn you though: those that come from Loran may have witnessed the Dark Beasts, or worse yet have been exposed to that manner of plague."
It is morning, four days or so after your forray into the sewers. It is a morning like any other as you go about whatever business it is that you attend to on mornings such as this.
The lound chiming of bells echo across Yharnam. Five sharp tones followed by one low, booming chime. You all now the significanxe of these sounds, even those of you who are not native to this city. Six announcements precedes the night of the Hunt. By sundown the streets of town will be embroiled in violence and chaos.
In the meantime there will be some effort made to muster the huntsman and make the citizenry aware of what is expected of them. For the hunters, the Ways are clear. All those of able body and sound mind are to assemble at the workshop.
Test
Dominic takes his sweet time, bathing and perfuming himself as is his wont. Tragically his burgundy jacket was a loss, but he still had an elegant wine-red quilted doublet that would suit him just fine. Once he was dressed, he set about cleaning his pistols with all the precision of a plumb line - not a single cranny was left stained with powder, and the walnut stocks were polished to a mirror sheen.
Once all that was done, he finally set out.
Sybille was strolling around the Central Yharnam, enjoying the view and free time, when she heard the bells ringing. "So it's time?" She returns to her house and gets everything checked and ready - especially her furnace hammer.
She puts on her hunter's garb and sets out to the workshop.
Morgam was lying on top of his bed, vaguely made, in his full hunting attire. He wasn't very good at sleeping at night, but he'd at least been relaxing until this moment. He knew it was coming. The hunt was like an ache in his bones, and the anticipation made his blood feel warm. His heavy boots were crossed at the foot of the bed and his hands folded behind his head where a pillow would be for a softer person. His eyes were closed and he hummed an old Northern tune, half-dreams of beasts and hunters drifting through his mind.
At the sound of the bells, he slowly rouses himself and walks to a simple wooden table serving as writing desk, dinner table, and shelf. He hangs his weapons inside his vest but leaves it open, hardly concealing who he is or what business he attends to. But the truth of the matter, as any hunter close to him would learn, is that his weapons were a secondary consideration; his blood is what makes him truly dangerous.
He palms a vial of blood and turns it back and forth in his hand, recalling for a moment the circumstances that brought him to this moment, this life. Then he tucks it away and heads out his door, locking it behind him.
The streets of the city are, unsuprisingly, far busier than usual. Everywhere people are rushing to and fro, some with arms full of food and supplies, others clutching at children. Shop keeps and citizens both board up windows and lay heavy chains over doors in anticipation of the coming search, and hoping to deter the worst of the mob. Some people have already armed themselves, standing at the sides of the crowd and leering at passerbys. Law forbids the shedding of blood until the hunt begins, but a mixture of fear and anticipation is already thick in the air.
At the workshop there is a small handful of hunters already gathered. Such gatherings are semi-formal, for their is no concrete heirarchy among your kind save for respect and reputation. At the head of the room is the master of the workshop, Ryseus, and his advisors and close friends, of which you see Cox among them. Shortly after everyone is assmebled the meeting begins.
"Friends" says Ryseus, his voice both soothing and powerful. "The night of the hunt approaches. The disappearances among the citizenry has grown untennable, and it has been decided that we must root out the cause now before more lives are lost. The healing church workshop will be organizing the hunters activities while the huntsman go about sweeping the streets themselves. We must find whatever beasts are responsible and put them to the blade"
"Are there any questions?"
"What of the Lorans?" Morgam calls out, not willing to let the issue slide by. "And the blood they've brought with them?"
Dominic shakes his head no, frowning slightly at the thought of being bossed around by the clergy. He really ought to be used to it by now.
"No doubt the huntsman will have their ways with the foreigners, we must remain vigilant for the beasts and the victims of the plague. At every turn we have failed to snuff out whatever creature is responsible for the disappearances, so now we must resort to burning it out. We shall leave it nowhere to hide. We shall drive fire and shot into every hole, every hovel, every nook, cranny, and crack until the beast is dead."
Morgam nods, satisfied.
Sybille stands silently, leaning against the wall and waiting for the teams to be assigned.
Dominic grins slightly. "Sounds like fun."
Without much further from the other assembled hunters assignments begin to be offered around. As much a matter of process as it is auction. Quickly those lone hunters with the clout and respect of veterans take claim of their hunting grounds. Other cells form around those who alone do not have much say but by working together can garner a greater share of Yharnams streets with which to stalk their prey. Some choose the outskirts, no doubt looking to destroy without meddling of other souls, while others mark themselves for the thick of the city, no doubt seeking to purge beasts and the soon-too-be alike.
You must be swift now. You do not have to work together, but perhaps you will band together with familiar faces once more in the coming hunt? Currently two locations are hotly contested - the docks lying near the river, as well as the fishing hamlets beyond, or the wooded area just south of the church district that swallow the path to Byrgenworth college.
Or somewhere else?