The streets of Central Yharnam are empty of friendly faces. Patrols of hounds and savage villagers patrol, attacking any outsider roaming their city. Knocking on door after door I am turned away, mocked for my stupidity at being caught outside on the night of the hunt, or derided as a foreigner there is no refuge offered. The only bit of comfort I find is the voice of a child, asking after her mother and offering me a small music box in return. I descend into the darkness of the sewers below Yharnam to carve my way through crawling corpses and giant rats towards my next foe: Father Gascoigne.
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