CHAPTER 6:

A TOUR OF YHARNAM

Gehrman glared at the Doll, as she sat there, sleeping. He'd managed to rouse her earlier to find out why she hadn't responded to his demands. It wasn't unusual for her to sleep, though he didn't think she was capable of sleeping, never mind allowed to. He never liked it when she slept, or really did anything without his permission.

But this was even more appalling. Somehow, the Doll became linked to the original back in the abandoned original Hunter's Workshop, she claimed due to the lad's magic. She'd been apologetic and all, but he knew it was, if not an act, then not good enough. Only the fact that Harry and Eileen, of all people, were awaiting her return ensured that he did not forbid that return.

He then glared up at the Moon, looking at him mockingly. "I suppose this is your doing?" he sneered.

The Moon, or rather, the Moon Presence didn't reply, at least not with words. But the feeling he got suggested that, while the Moon Presence wasn't responsible for this, it felt amused by this all the same. Of course it would be. It got off on his misery.

"Damn you," he hissed. "Why does she get to visit Yharnam? You bound her to the Dream, just like you did to me, and this place is all she knows, all she should know! For what she did to me, and to all the others…she doesn't deserve this! Not one bit!"

The Moon Presence's next communication clearly communicated the fact that zero fucks were given about Gehrman's plight. As long as the Doll was still tethered to the Dream, and its visits to the waking world were purely temporary, it didn't care. It also made things clear that Gehrman should not interfere.

Gehrman scoffed. "It's not enough that you trapped me in this place, with only that damned thing for company. You allow her happiness she does not deserve!"

The impression Gehrman got from the Moon Presence was like mocking laughter. However, mixed in with it was the impression of a warning. Do not interfere, as well as a reminder who was the true master of the Hunter's Dream. The Moon Presence would handle any…chastisement of the Doll, if any be needed.

Gehrman groaned. Everything that went wrong was due to that boy. And the sad thing was, the boy was ignorant of the Doll's true nature. Harry had known what it was like to be caged. The boy was doing what he thought was right. Gehrman couldn't begrudge the boy that. He was not a Hunter, just a naïve (as far as the Great Ones and the Healing Church were concerned) and quixotic lad who would be better off away from the Dream, and from Yharnam as well.

Instead, he'd become smitten with the Doll, just as Gehrman had been smitten with Maria. Who even now suffered deep within the Hunter's Nightmare, along with so many of his friends and comrades. Laurence, Ludwig, Yamamura, Izzy, Grata, and so many more. True, what they did to the Fishing Hamlet was appalling, and all for Willem's ambitions, but did they need to suffer so much? Gehrman knew he was getting off lightly by comparison, but still, he was himself a prisoner of a Great One, just as those entrapped by the Hunter's Nightmare were too.

Gehrman was not jealous of Harry per se, not now. Rather, he was afraid for him, that his dalliance with the Doll would lead to his downfall. He was young, and didn't understand. Telling him the truth might even hurt the boy too much, assuming the Moon Presence even allowed him to do so.

"…You don't know what you're doing, lad," Gehrman muttered morosely. "You just don't know what you're doing, letting that thing roam the waking world…"

Leaving the Abandoned Workshop the next morning was the hard part, at least once Eileen checked the Bloody Crow's body was still there (it was) and wasn't likely to get up again (it hadn't), though she dug a pit and set the body on fire to be sure. An initial foray into the tower that Church's Workshop was housed in showed the interior to be gutted, little more than rickety wooden platforms.

Harry, however, figured out a solution. He could fly back up to the top of the rope, undo it, and then fly back down. Then, they could use the rope to descend to the bottom of the Church Workshop tower, with Harry using the same trick to retrieve it. It was tricky and tedious, but soon, the trio were walking through the dingy streets adjacent to Cathedral Ward, watched by suspicious citizens. Only Eileen's presence kept any ne'er-do-wells at bay, though she had lent the Doll a spare pair of gloves to hide her inhuman hands. There was nothing that could be done about her height, as she was taller than either Harry or Eileen.

The Doll looked around, frowning, even as Harry's stomach rebelled against the smell. "Such squalor, and so close to Cathedral Ward," she murmured.

"Probably throws the piety and glory into sharp relief," Eileen said. "I know these streets, thankfully. There's an exit to the main part of Cathedral Ward nearby. We'll have to drop down a little. As long as you're with me and don't mouth off too much, you two should be fine."

Harry looked at one particularly hairy Yharnamite glaring at them, swigging from a bottle of…was that blood? "I hope so," Harry said quietly. "But did he seriously just drink blood straight from the bottle?"

"In Yharnam, some variants of the Old Blood are more popular than alcohol," Eileen said. "Alcohol comes with its own demons, to be sure, and it drives men to madness and sin, but…well, I daresay it's safer. It may turn men and women into beasts and monsters, but only in the way they act…"

Thankfully, they found the way back into the main part of Cathedral Ward. "I'm taking the pair of you back to Iosefka's clinic back in Central Yharnam," Eileen explained as they walked down some stairs towards what she called the Oedon Chapel. "Iosefka's a friend. Ex-Mensis, but she left when she couldn't stomach what was going on there, even after Micolash vanished and took most of Mensis with him. I heard she has a sister working in the Choir. I go to Iosefka to restock on some supplies, and write up my report. I'll keep you two out of it, I'll just say a bird helped me win against the Bloody Crow. From there, well, I think there may be another location to re-enter the Hunter's Dream there via a lantern. There's also one in Oedon Chapel."

Harry nodded. He'd actually found a lantern in the Workshop, and activated it, in case he needed to return. They entered Oedon Chapel, to find an extraordinary, contrasting pair of people talking.

One of them was a hunched-over man with warped features and a lanky body, sitting covered by rags. He didn't look like a normal human, his jaw too elongated, his skin a dark grey, his eyes a single colour…and yet, his voice was gentle and tentative. The other man was young, with curly blonde hair and muttonchops framing handsome and earnest features, dressed in robes. "…Worries me, Alfred," the hunched man said.

"Don't be, old chap," Alfred said, his tone friendly. "There are plenty who will do good work should it come to a Hunt." He turned, and smiled upon seeing Eileen. "Speak of the devil, or rather, an angel of mercy. How fares your own Hunt, Eileen?"

"Rather well, Alfred," Eileen said. "The Bloody Crow of Cainhurst is no more."

At this, Alfred's friendly demeanour darkened. "Oh, is he now? One less Vileblood in the world is only a good thing…" And then, his eyes narrowed on seeing the Doll and Harry. "Except you seem to be travelling with one."

"I've told you about the Dream, Alfred. This is the Doll," Eileen said sharply.

"Ah." And with that, Alfred's attitude did another 180, and he bowed. "My apologies, young lady. I made an assumption altogether too quickly. I have heard of the Hunter's Dream through Eileen here, but I myself have never been bound to the Dream."

"That's quite all right," the Doll said. "Though I was indeed modelled on a Vileblood, albeit one who fled Cainhurst rather than partake of the atrocities within."

"I see. I suppose that is better than nothing. Again, I apologise." Alfred then turned to Eileen. "It's just as well you came here, Eileen. Word on the grapevine is that there have been a few more incidents of possible beast attacks. There's been denials from the Choir and the Healing Church, but the Executioners believe that there is something amiss."

"I agree. I have been hearing things here and there too," Eileen said. "I think there'll be another Hunt soon, and it'll be a bad one. How bad, I don't know. Watch yourself, Alfred. Even with the Bloody Crow dead, there are too many who despise Hunters, regardless of whether they're Crows or Executioners."

"Thank you for your kind words, Eileen," Alfred said. "And I fear you may be right. I must be off, back to headquarters. Sorry I can't stick around to socialise with your new friends, but I've tarried too long. May the Good Blood guide your way."

As he left, Eileen sighed. "A good Hunter, but he's a bit fanatical. But if you're not infected or from Cainhurst, he's a good man. And speaking of good men…" She knelt down to the man squatting on the floor. "How are you, Damien(1)?"

"Very well, thank you, Eileen," the wizened man said. "Have you got visitors?"

"Yes, I'm showing them around. Just keep quiet about the whole Doll thing, okay?"

"Got it. Very picture of discretion, me," Damien said. "But is it really true? Did you put an end to the Bloody Crow?"

"I had help, but regardless, the Bloody Crow is dead…"

They spent a little more time speaking with Damien, before they left, Harry activating the lantern for later. "They both seemed friendly enough," Harry said as they walked out, intending to head for the Great Bridge's entrance. There was something nagging at him, but he didn't know what.

"Hmm, though I'd sooner trust Damien than Alfred," Eileen said. "Alfred's friendly enough, but he's a fanatic. Damien, though…the Healing Blood acts in different ways in people sometimes. It mutated him, rendering him blind…and he was tossed out into the streets by his family. The deacon of Oedon Chapel took pity on him, and Damien basically helps keep the incense burners going, to help keep away beasts."

"Incense keeps them away?" Harry asked.

"For the most part," Eileen said. "It's a specific type too. But on occasion, it's not enough."

They walked by a rather tall, emaciated man with deathly pale skin and black eyes, wearing robes and a broad-brimmed hat, watching them suspiciously. After they passed him, the Doll said, "That was a Pthumerian descendent, was he not?"

"Aye. Either from ancient bloodlines or experiments. Never really cared enough to find out," Eileen said. "While it's best to not get on their bad side, they've been known to attack Hunters wandering around Cathedral Ward too much on a Hunt. They're the Church's muscle, aside from pet Hunters…"

They crossed the Great Bridge, with both Harry and the Doll looking around, admiring the architecture (stopping to light another lantern they stumbled across on the far end of the Great Bridge). The city may have had many problems, but the architecture was awe-inspiring, the buildings clawing at the sky, as if to tear the very gods from their lofty seats. Then again, given what the three of them knew about the Great Ones, those near-deities would laugh or sneer at any such attempt.

The Doll in particular loved looking around at the buildings in wonder. Considering all she had known was the Hunter's Workshop, it was understandable. Harry was less affected, but you could feel the weight of the history of this place pressing down on you, and it was fascinating. Not for the first time, he wished Hermione was here. She'd love the place, or at least the history and culture.

Eileen led them carefully through the streets of Central Yharnam, past the suspicious eyes of a number of Yharnamites, before they came to a building closer to the edge of the city. Eileen strolled in, more or less as if she owned the place. Harry and the Doll followed, to find Eileen approaching a woman, perhaps in her thirties or forties, with brown hair framing a kindly face, wearing white robes. She had been replacing a bottle on a shelf, one of many such shelves in the dark, wood-panelled room, which also had gurneys and, Harry noted with some concern, blood transfusion equipment, albeit of an old-fashioned sort.

The woman turned to see Eileen approach. "Eileen," she greeted with a small smile. "Your Hunt went well?"

"Better than well. The Bloody Crow is no more," Eileen said. "I need to write up a report for the higher-ups."

"You could have done that at your home."

"True, but I needed to restock as well. Besides, I wanted to give these two a tour of the city. They're relative newcomers."

Iosefka's attention went over to Harry and the Doll. She frowned on seeing Harry. "This one looks like he's been through the wringer." She hurried over, and examined his scalp, then his eyes. "Strange about these feathers. No sign of pathological irregular myosis, thank whatever deity is listening."

"…You what?" Harry asked.

"She means your pupils basically turning weird, constricting only partially, before turning into mush," Eileen said. "If you have that, the Bestial Scourge is taking hold in you. The myosis thing is one of the most reliable symptoms."

Iosefka nodded. "I can tell when people are in danger of falling to the beast within."

"I haven't even taken the Old Blood," Harry said.

Iosefka looked at him sharply, only for Eileen to say, "He knows, Iosefka. I can vouch for him. Those feathers are because he's a mage, one who can transform into a raven. Remember what I told you about the Dream? He's been there, talked to Gehrman. And see her? That's the Doll standing there."

Iosefka's eyes flickered over to the Doll, and came over, gently touching the Doll's face. "How incredible…the texture of porcelain or something similar, and yet, soft and yielding as flesh. And…I know this face…" She wandered over to Eileen, before snapping her fingers. "I've got it! You look different to her by dint of your dress and demeanour, but your physiognomy is the same. I saw pictures of your model in the archives at Yahar'gul. Gehrman did not do her justice, I'm afraid."

As the Doll looked morose at this, Harry stepped forward. "What do you mean? Who was she based on?"

"Gehrman's most famous student, Lady Maria, Prodigal Daughter of Cainhurst…"

CHAPTER 6 ANNOTATIONS:

So, Harry and the Doll going on a tour of Yharnam, while Gehrman seethes with resentment. And Iosefka had revealed whom Gehrman based the Doll on.

Just so you know, the Workshop still has a few items left there. Namely, the hair clip and the Third Umbilical Cord.

Oh, and before I go onto the reviews, I thought I'd take a moment to plug my latest fic, as of writing, to all you Soulsborne fans. I just finished a oneshot crossover with Dark Souls, involving Harry, Priscilla, and a lot of fluff. It's out under the title Worth a Thousand Words and More.

Review-answering time! A lot of people guessed that the Doll was either the Orphan of Kos, or Lily. Both answers are incorrect. However, there will be revelations, not just about the Doll, but certain other characters. I recently finished Chapter 11 of this fic, where another part of the mystery becomes apparent. I have a lot of plans in play for the characters.

zanzara: It's more heavily implied that Gascoigne did the deed, though it is just vague enough that Gascoigne may be taking revenge for her murder. However, for the sake of this story, I'm going the more tragic route…for Gascoigne and Viola, anyway. As I stated before, I intend to ensure that their kids survive.

1. I chose the name Damien, not because of the horror film, but because of Father Damien, or Saint Damien of Molokai, a Belgian missionary who worked with lepers in Hawaii. I'd first heard of the man from the autobiography of Tom Baker. Damien actually died of leprosy, so I thought naming the Chapel Dweller after a man famous for working with outcasts and the diseased would be a nice tribute. Hopefully, I haven't offended anyone who admires Father Damien, as the Chapel Dweller is one of the few truly selfless and kind people in the game.