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Streets of Yarnham

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Blood soaked paving stones
Roads desolate and empty
A lone man wanders the dark streets
The setting crimson sun marks
The night of the hunt


Roars and screeches fill the air
The monsters begin their transformation
Hunters don their leather armour
Clerics lock the church gates


The blood moon rises
Hunters search through allys
Beasts grow hungry for blood


The men slaughter gruesome creatures
And humans with no discretion
Bodies fill the streets
Pyres are built


Morning sun crests
The streets of Yharnam
The hunt is over


For now




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