Balyn, after careful thought, had come to the conclusion that he was not fond of the labyrinths unlocked by the so-called Holy Chalices.
Really, that word "holy" was an initial clue to the way things would go. Religion and worship in Yharnam generally involved howling madness, beings whose sympathetic spirit was only tangentially related to actual sympathy, and vast quantities of shed blood. It was politically, spiritually, and often biologically corrupt.
And what good, exactly, could come out of a "sacred" rite performed at a gravestone using blood that stubbornly refused to properly dry out and a bunch of plucked eyeballs? Stumbling through a mazework of twisted, poison-soaked catacombs haunted by emaciated watchers endlessly toiling to expand the tombs was no more than he deserved.
Going back for more, at an even lower depth of those hintertombs? At that point the only person Balyn had to blame was himself.
"Welcome home, good hunter."
"No, the plain fact is, I was an idiot to expect anything better."
"If you say so, good hunter."
Balyn looked up sharply, surprised by the voice of the Doll. He hadn't noticed that she'd come over or heard her initial greeting. He studied her placid expression for hints of sarcasm, but found none, possibly because she was, in fact, a doll.
Not that the fact her face didn't move had ever stopped her from displaying emotion before. Or from talking, for that matter.
"If I may ask, what befell you in the lower hintertombs to provoke you?"
Balyn shrugged.
"The usual. I mean, I'm happy that the Dream keeps calling me back to life, and I certainly wouldn't want to try to be a hunter without it, but it's kind of embarrassing, especially when I think about people like Gerhman and Ludwig and how they didn't have to die three or four times before they could beat some enemy."
"What was it that you found so frustrating?" The phrase "this time" remained unsaid, but it lingered there nonetheless.
Images flashed through Balyn's mind, of a greatsword alight with pale blue arcane resonance...or was it a giant hammer crushing his bones to powder? He pushed up his hat and scratched his head.
"You know...I think it was some guy, but maybe I hit my head or something, or whatever keeps me from remembering my life from before coming to Yharnam is having a recurrence...but whatever it was, I've gone and forgotten him."