"How is it that I keep ending up here?" Balyn asked. He paused, politely waiting to see if a response was forthcoming. He was alone, and it had been a rhetorical question, but these things weren't necessarily determinative in a place like the Forbidden Woods, or really anywhere around Yharnam. When no invisible watchers chose to offer commentary, he started forward, then stopped again when he remembered the trap. Sidestepping the pressure switch that would have sent a massive spiked log swinging down at body-crushing height, he proceeded into the village.
It wasn't like he didn't sympathize. Balyn didn't think of himself as a prejudiced man, but when one's nearest neighbors were clusters of parasitic snakes that could nest in a human body, devour the innards, and puppet it around, well, he figured the people here had a right to be a little unconventional in their welcome customs.
Following the directions given him at the Yharnam Employment Agency, he made his way up the rise to one of the ramshackle houses overlooking the village square.
"Hello?" he called out. He'd have knocked, but the building didn't have a door to knock on, and it seemed impolite to just walk in and poke around in search of the owner. "Hello there? Mr. Franklin?"
"Ay, what's all this ruckus?" A man shuffled out from around the side of the house. He didn't look that far into middle age from the color of his scraggly hair and the lack of lines on his face, maybe not even on the far side of fifty, but his back was stooped and bent and he walked with both hands clenched on a knotted cane for support. "And knock it off with that 'Mister'; I'm not some pompous twit from Byrgenwerth."
"No, they mostly just groan at you," Balyn agreed.
Franklin squinted at him, perhaps trying to sort out if he'd had some kind of encounter with hallucinogenic plant life on the way there. Since a conclusion didn't seem to be forthcoming on the point any time soon, Balyn hurried to fill the conversational gap.
"Anyway, I'm here now, so what is it you need me to hunt? Are you folks having beast problems out here, too? I understand that the Red Moon didn't reach this far, but there must be some beasts in the area. Or are the snakes getting out of hand? Let me tell you, I appreciate how you might not want to deal with them yourselves. I once blundered into a cave with three of those guys, right on a ledge over a couple of those giant snake balls besides. Or is it some all-new problem? With all the cleanup work they're doing at Byrgenwerth, who knows what'll turn up in their basement and start bothering decent people? I have to tell you, it's not every day that I get a job request that calls for me to get back into hunting, but even though it's been a while, trust me, I'm ready to take on your—"
"Wood."
"Eh?" Balyn said in surprise, but then the pieces fell into place. "Oh, of course! It's only natural. Out in these woods, what with the beast blood experiments that were going on, it was only a matter of time before some hideous tree monster came to life, with writhing roots like tentacles, branches forming grasping, skeletal hands, a fanged maw made from some cavity in its side. No wonder your request specified someone who had experience with a saw! Well, just point me at it and I'll do the rest."
He held up his saw cleaver, that iconic trick weapon developed by Gehrman's workshop.
"Are you daft? I mean wood. Lumber! We've got a bunch of felled trees, but we need them cut to appropriate lengths so we can use them to fix up some of the homes around here. Now put away that toy; I've got a couple of real lumber saws you can use, so long as you're not a complete duffer. Break one and it's coming out of your pay! Understand?"
"Uh, yes, I think so..."
"Good. Now, I've writ down how many logs we need cut of each diameter and of what length. There's a rope out back with knots tied every six inches you can use for the measuring." He pulled a dirty piece of paper out of his back pocket and shoved it at Balyn. "Now get to work! You're burning daylight."
Balyn took the paper, glanced over the figures, and headed off in the direction Franklin had waved him, a half-bewildered look still on his face. His employer scowled, then spit in the dirt.
"Next time, I've gotta put 'no hunters' on the job request. Just hope this one's not as dim as the last fellow. Gave him an axe to cut down the trees, and he started spinning 'round and 'round with it like a windmill."