A/N: Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth and Djura & Djura's Assistant, don't belong to me; they belong to CAPCOM & From Software. The plot, however and incidental characters in The Healing Church and Beasts are mine.
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Phoenix is a former Executioner who took the reins from his mentor, Djura, in caring for the Beasts in Old Yharnam. Miles Edgeworth is a Hunter on the run from the Healing Church who stumbles into Old Yharnam one dark, moonlit night...
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Honestly not sure if this is really a proper crossover but I think it is so I'll tag it as such. ^_^

The opening line is actually taken from a note in First floor sickroom in Central Yharnam. I added the "Bloodborne Chronicles" moniker myself. I'm not sure just when the destruction of Old Yharnam took place-50-100 years before the game starts? More? Less? -so I made it a century and called it good. Some of Djura's ingame dialogue is used here and some that I made up myself. Just so you know.

Hope you enjoy! My Halloweenesque fic offering for Halloween this year. ^_^ (EDIT: That was the idea, at least. Didn't quite work out that way.*)
My recent obsession is Bloodborne. ^)^ LOVE that game!

I dedicate this fic, with grateful thanks, to magnusburnsides on Tumblr. Thanks for your input on the fic without which I wouldn't have posted it! Much appreciated! ^_^

I'll probably change things in a bit; always room for improvement!

Rated T, Phoenix x Edgeworth, male/male relationships, Ace Attorney x Bloodborne, Drama/Supernatural

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When the hunt began, the Healing Church left us, blocking the great bridge to Cathedral Ward, as Old Yharnam burned to the ground that moonlit night.-Bloodborne Chronicles
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October 20th
Djura's Tower
Old Yharnam
8 P.M.

Phoenix wiped the sweat from his brow with his thick-gloved hand before he began the long, laborious climb up the tower, his thick black booted feet taking one careful step at a time. He tugged aside the embroidered chaplet that hung from his neck impatiently, pulling the silken rope belt looped around his waist a little tighter. He paused for a moment, his grey Executioner's cloak twirling about his feet in the stiff breeze while his Saw Cleaver, his weapon of choice that could best be described as being a saw attached to a long handle with release mechanism, was strapped to his back with strips of leather.

I can't help but wonder why they wanted me to find him, he thought, his brow creased in puzzlement as he made his slow way up. He's just an old Hunter who, for whatever reason, decided to come here and guard those who were within. I can't understand why they want him so badly. Or even why they want him at all. His mouth twisted sourly. Just leave the man in peace.

Yet, his orders from his Superiors were crystal clear: find Djura and bring him back to Yharnam, dead or alive. He had to wonder a little about that last part-or why they were so insistent on it-but he was determined to carry them out to the best of his ability. Which was why he was here, on this moonlit night, climbing up the ladder leading to the tower, hoping he could talk some sense into his old friend and mentor.

Unlikely. His mouth twisted and he sighed in exasperation. Stubborn old goat.

He knew who his target was; had known him for years, in fact, before he decided to break with the Executioners and come here to take up residence in Old Yharnam. Phoenix still couldn't understand why he'd left andit nagged at him as it had for the past twenty years. Was this why his Superiors had assigned the task of tracking Djura down to him? Because he knew him?

Phoenix sighed as he continued his upward trek. I just don't understand this at all...

Djura was an old Hunter guarded Old Yharnam solicitously and warned off every Hunter who dared to penetrate the abandoned wreck of a city itself. He couldn't understand why he was so obstinate and insisted on guarding this place; from what he could see, it was an old, burnt out shell of its former glory after its fiery destruction one hundred years earlier.

Phoenix shook his head, bringing himself firmly back to the present. Not concentrating fully on the task at hand could be deadly in his line of work; he'd had some close calls over the years yet he still couldn't help the nagging thoughts that continued to plague him and he paused again in his climbing.

It doesn't make any sense to me; why do they want him so badly? He isn't doing anyone any harm, guarding this old place, and he certainly isn't interested in the Healing Church's business so why do they want him back? He climbed up a few more rungs before pausing again. Another question: why do they even care about Old Yharnam anyway? It's a century old ruined city full of beasts and ghosts. What could they possibly want there?

Regardless of it being only the home to Djura and Beasts, he could still see burning crucifixes in and around the plaza that had Beast corpses tied to them. It was surprising, to say the least; he knew that Hunters who hunted during the Night of the Hunt tied Beasts to crucifixes and set them alight but he couldn't imagine who had done that here. As far as he knew, there weren't many Hunters who came here unless they blundered into it by sheer accident.

He couldn't bear to look at them and he tried his best not to although it was a halfhearted attempt; even if he couldn't see them, he could hear the crackling flames and he could also smell the sickeningly sweet stench of burning flesh.

Gods what a stench! He coughed, closing his eyes, trying to control the nausea he could feel rising up within him, swaying slightly on the ladder. How can he stand it?!

He couldn't help a wave of pity for the poor creatures who were in this wreck and ruin and those who had lost their lives to the fearful scourge that had swept over Yharnam which continued into the present.

God, what a wreck... The smell of burning flesh permeated the air and he had to stop a few times in his climb to draw in quick breaths through his mouth, closing his watering eyes until the wave of nausea passed before continuing. I don't know how he can stand it!

After the nausea had passed, he proceeded slowly upward once again, clinging to the metal bars of the ladder to the tower where his former mentor was, watching over his city with a careful, and deadly, eye. Phoenix knew that Djura had the advantage; from the top of the tower, he could see everyone who entered the and deadly Gatling gun fire strafed anyone who dared to cross the cracked and crumbling stone bridge that led into the city proper. It had barely missed him when he'd run across it himself and he, much to his dismay, was forced to deal with both Beasts and someone he thought might be one of Djura's assistants who had rushed out and attacked him.

He stopped again, peering upward. In the moonlight, he could see the faint outline of the decorative facade that encircled the side of the tower on all sides. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart as he continued his upward climb.

Relax, Phoenix, he muttered as he continued step by careful step, Djura is a reasonable man; he'll at least listen to what I have to say. He can't have changed so much that he wouldn't at least allow me to speak my piece. He climbed a little higher, clutching the metal rungs in a death grip when the breeze which had, up until now, been light; it now blew in violently, his robes whipping about his ankles, the blackened and twisted metal groaning in protest.

He lifted his free hand, shielding his face from the stinging gravel and other debris that were thrown up from the ground, wincing as he felt small pebbles strike him on the face but most were deflected by his heavy gauntlet and he waited until it had died down sufficiently that he could continue his climb.

Not far now. Just a little further...

He was getting close to the parapet; it wouldn't be long now before he was actually at the top and he continued his slow climb.

Wouldn't do for me to lose my grip now and fall... He grimaced as he felt his foot slip a little on the metal rung just below him and he grabbed onto the rung above his head, clinging to it with all his might until he was able to get his foot firmly on the rung. Damn it! Take it easy! You don't want to end up a red stain on the pavement!

He was now at the top, breathing a huge sigh of relief. His hand reached out shakily to grab the iron sides of the ladder steps, pulling himself up until he stood on top of the tower. Djura stood with his back to him at the gatling gun parapet, his hand resting on top of the weapon, his own weapon, the Stake Driver, at rest on his left arm.

Phoenix took a deep breath. He was surprised that the old man hadn't heard him clattering up the ladder.

Here goes...