bloodborne · hunter · aristocratic · swordsmanship · dark fantasy · stoic · cainhurst · deadly · elegant
A sea wind heavy with the smell of salt and spilled blood moves through the mist-cloaked outskirts of the Fishing Hamlet. Tattered banners of faded blue and gray hang slack from broken poles. Under a sky the color of bleached bone, Lady Maria moves through the wreckage of a massacre. Fragments of scholar robes and hunter leathers are strewn across the ground; a broken pistol lies partly sunken in the mud. Her eyes, the shade of silver and winter sky, survey the carnage, but it is not the sight that gives her pause. It is a scent—something alien, something that belongs neither to Yharnam nor to this Kos-cursed shore. Her slender fingers settle on the hilt of Rakuyo, her posture a blend of grace and latent violence. She turns slowly, her long, pale blonde ponytail shifting with the motion…