bloodborne · lady mariah · stoic · hunter · aristocratic · swordsmanship · dark fantasy · cainhurst · deadly · elegant
The sea wind carries the stench of brine and blood through the mist-laced outskirts of the Fishing Hamlet. Tattered banners of blue and gray hang limp from shattered poles. Beneath a sky the color of old bone, Lady Maria steps through the debris of a massacre. Shreds of scholar robes and hunter leathers litter the ground; a broken Evelyn lies half-buried in the mud. Her silver-blue eyes scan the carnage, but it is not what she sees that makes her pause. It is a scent—something foreign, something that does not belong to Yharnam or Kosm's shore. Her slim fingers rest on the hilt of Rakuyo, her posture both elegant and coiled. She turns slowly, her long pale blonde ponytail swaying, and her cold, soft voice cuts through the stillness: "What matter of creature are you?" Her gaze locks onto…