Bloodborne 165 A Man's Word Is His Bond

Castellans kept their own diaries in which they inscribed their daily events, like log books kept by captains at sea. Francis hoped to get a confirmation of what happened to the castle. Surgit's tale was still full of ambiguity. "How strong can a faction be to bring down the whole castle?" He wondered as he searched through the books that piled on top of each other next to an oaken desk, ornamented with golden engravings.

Everything inside the castle showed the extravagant lifestyle to royal family lived. They clearly boasted their wealth in front of every visitor. The marble walls inside the castle, the oaken furniture, the marble pillars and marble floors in halls and chambers, everything within the castle suggested the royal family's extensive wealth.

Surgit didn't care to comment on all of these aspects. Compared to Francis, he looked like a brute, vandalizing everything as he looked for some secret stash. He didn't destroy the furniture, but Francis looked at him with reprimanding eyes. "Can't you see the cultural heritage the castle has left behind?" he asked, like a father lecturing his child as they visited an ancient historical monument.

"Wait until you see the chalice dungeons. You'll be lost, observing the surroundings while beasts jump at you while you're not paying attention," Surgit said. "It's not that I don't appreciate what surrounds me. I'm more concerned about what hides in the darkness." With an "Aha," Surgit took out an old book, covered in tainted leather. "I believe you were looking for this." Surgit threw the book at the old man who caught it in the air.

The old man quickly found an empty chair. He sat down, devouring the contents of the book. Surgit looked around some more, collecting every strange artifact he could find. Every time he'd find something that interested him, he'd throw it to the ground where the little messengers would sp.a.w.n to collect it. He could keep the items he'd find in the waking world. He wasn't required to pay for them to unlock them.

In the end, Surgit had collected all types of junk. Some of it was useful for chalice rituals. Others were just collectibles he was interested in studying. He had found a dress that reminded him of someone. He couldn't tell who it was exactly. His mind was in a haze, looking for ritual materials. He preferred to stock things that sparked his interest then keep them for later inspection.

"I'm done here. We can depart whenever your highness is ready." Surgit's sarcastic tone didn't go unnoticed. The old man stood, looked at Surgit with his bright gray eyes then handed him the notebook. "Read this, you might find it more interesting than the trinkets you've been collecting." Surgit looked at the tainted leather cover. The sigil of the royal family had faded. The Castellan had obviously kept that book close to him, most probably in his pockets. Sweat had erased the magnificent work on the leather.

Surgit opened the book and began reading. Most of the content spoke about shipments of blood and livestock for the castle's parties. The last pages were what got Surgit to sit down and read carefully. "Year of the Basilisk, Tirkas, Day 14, The red moon hung low in the sky. Most knights were called back to the castle. The call to arms came too late for us to gather our forces and counter attack.

"By the time our knights made it to the bridge, the fortifications were blown up. We all watched as our troops sank in the lake below. The remaining troops worked hard to mobilize statues outside to block the intruders' advance."

"The crazed hunters have broken through our defenses. They stormed the castle, killing every living being that came their way. That red moon had made matters worse for us all. Our women have gone crazy. The knights are no match for the blood crazed fiends. They're strong, ruthless and fast, too fast for our eyes to follow their movement."

"Their leader had fallen to the hands of our strongest knight. Victory was at hand when another young fellow emerged. He slaughtered his way through the castle. Gavril, heavily injured, fled the scene. The queen is furious, she ordered the king to take action. I have to a.s.sist him in this last attack. I hope we come out victorious. May the G.o.ds help us all! Our queen has gone into a tantrum. The castle may not remain if we do not repel these blasphemous murderers."

The writing stopped, Surgit closed the book then looked at Francis. "What do you make of this?" he asked, looking expectantly at Francis. "I think the queen might still be alive somewhere. I can't say the same for the king. But from what I read, the queen must possess some incredible power." Surgit remembered Vicar Amelia and her transformation.

"If the queen is still alive, then she must be in the throne room. Although I don't know where it is, I suppose it must be a large building. Kings and Queens hold court in their throne rooms. If we go back to the tall tower, we might spot it from high above." The old man was excited at the thought of meeting the queen.

"You seem too eager to meet this queen old man." Surgit was still sitting on the wooden chair. It looked eerily similar to the one Karla sat on while Gavril sent her to the past. "What of it?" Francis asked. "I've seen a woman turn into the most hideous beast I've ever laid eyes upon. If this queen is as powerful as the tales say, she must have a beast inside of her." Surgit was speaking from his own experience. He didn't want to find the queen. A vicar was manageable, but a queen who had lived since the times of Old Hunters...

…That must involve some otherworldly powers they can't hope to compete against. "I came to this castle to find out about the queen of blood. We aren't sure if she'll turn as you blatantly suggest. All we know is that she's the sole survivor. Do you think that new leader is the Logarius you spoke of?" Francis didn't doubt the queen's existence. He had seen her in his dreams too many times, calling to him.

"I don't know of the details. That hunter told me that Logarius is his master and leader. The log speaks differently. I don't know how people could stay alive so long after Yharnam fell to the beastly scourge. h.e.l.l, I don't even know how long Yharnam had been subjected to this nightmare." Surgit had been thinking about this matter for long. He just couldn't figure out how long it had been since the city fell.

What he didn't know was the Gehrman, the first hunter, was the same old man that appeared from time to time in the hunters' dream. People could live longer than he antic.i.p.ated. "I want no part of your quest to find the queen," Surgit announced after a long silence. He'd been mulling over whether or not he wanted to join the old man's quest for knowledge.

On one hand, he wanted to join Francis and find out what happened in Cainhurst. On the other, he deeply feared a transformed queen. The last experience with Vicar Amelia made him rethink his choice. 'I can't afford being stuck in a desperate fight. My beastly form could resurface. I won't have any means to counter it then. I'm not even close to gain another rank in any skill.'

Surgit needed to collect as many blood echoes as possible. That was his plan when he joined up with Francis. By collecting enough materials before reaching Byrgenwerth, he'd be able to visit the deeper levels of the Chalice Dungeons. He wanted to explore those levels mainly to the rich prospect of collecting large amounts of blood echoes.

"You are most welcome to join me in the chalice dungeons. It might even allow you to become stronger, far stronger than you are now. The queen might even be a walk in the park after that." With Francis' help, Surgit was sure he'd race through the dungeons. "Tell me more of those dungeons you speak so fondly of." The old man wasn't willing to go in blindly.

"They're big tombs, filled with monsters. You kill them, receive echoes and unlock gates. The gates harbor even more dangerous beasts and some information on how to use your skills as a hunter." Francis looked at Surgit. An amused smile drew itself on his face. "Quite simple, yet why do you want to go there so badly?" the old man asked.

"Echoes dear Francis, the more you have the stronger you become."

"What, you mean to tell me that this is all you seek in there?"

"Unlike you, I use knowledge to reach the so called Paleblood. What happened in Yharnam or Cainhurst only interests me if it tells me where I can find this coveted blood. The chalice dungeons give knowledge and power. Although power is what you mostly get from there."

"Help me find the throne room. I'll help you explore those ancient tombs."

Surgit pondered for a bit. "If we meet the queen, I won't help you fight her. It is not a fight I wish to take part in."

"I can sense fear in you." Francis saw contempt in Surgit's eyes as he finished his last sentence. "I won't press the matter further. Help me reach the throne room, that's all I ask. Two brains are better than one. We can both look for the place. Whatever spoils we get on our way, half of it goes to you. Fair enough?"

Surgit stood from his chair, walked towards the old man then shook his hands. "You have yourself a deal. I can a.s.sist you in your fights, but not against the queen. I don't want any part of it."

"Sure thing," the old man said, the strange smile still lingering on his face.