Balyn was not a huge fan of the Fishing Hamlet.
The place was depressing, a barnacle-encrusted village sinking into the sea, with a rocky cliff that somehow ran through the middle of it to overlook the water on both sides. The people were twisted monstrosities part human and part something that was vaguely fishlike, swarming any invaders with fanged teeth, adapted fishing tools, and spewed curses. The place was a miserable testament to unspeakable crimes, and Balyn was none too sure that the nightmare reflection was any more awful than the original reality had been.
Plus, it smelled bad. Eau de Rotting Fish wasn't going on anybody's perfume wish list. Not for the first time Balyn appreciated that his hunter's attire included a mask over his nose and mouth.
At the very heart of the hamlet—and more than likely of the entire nightmare—was the Orphan of Kos. Or its dream consciousness or something; from what Balyn had gathered the actual Orphan had been cut out of the dead Kos's womb and carted back to Byrgenwerth for their typical mad experiments. The nightmare Orphan was a wizened figure that wept like Gehrman did in his dreams, then upon sight of Balyn screamed with rage and attacked with a brutal ferocity swifter and more savage than any beast's.
"Seventeen," he murmured.
"Beg pardon, good hunter?"
The Doll leaned down, trying to get a better look at Balyn where he lay face-down in the grass. It was nice, soft grass. Comfortable. Maybe he could just lie there and nap for four or five hours. It wasn't like the night of the hunt seemed to pass time in any normal fashion.
"I don't remember much about my life before I came to Yharnam," he mumbled, "but I am fairly sure that this is the first time I have had the side of my skull staved in with a placenta."
The Doll did not respond. In fairness, there was really very little that one could say to that.
Unfortunately, while Balyn was definitely frustrated by the course of events, the trip back to the Dream not only erased any injuries to his body as if he was waking from a nightmare, it also eased problems like exhaustion. So while mentally he was ready to simply lie around for a week or so, his body was feeling fresh and ready to get moving. With the inevitable restlessness of a fidgeter, he pushed himself back to his feet.
"I guess there's not much to do besides try again. I tell you, though, this is a perfect example of bad parenting."
"I am not sure that I understand."
"The Orphan of Kos! I mean, okay, its mother is dead so I don't think we can really blame her too much, even though I'm not quite sure how 'alive' and 'dead' actually work for Great Ones. But where's the father, that's what I'd like to know? No wonder that kid's got anger issues, with that deadbeat never being around to set it straight!"
"I think perhaps you should double-check if your latest awakening properly repaired your skull, good hunter."