The ever-crawling forward of time goes even slower when amongst the dark hintertombs of an antiquated nation. Those of the surface, the Yharnamites, speak of the many tomb prospectors who descend to those very depths in search of some Eldritch Truth, peddled by the Healing Church, in which many never return. Is it this Truth they found that made them stay below? Were the labyrinths swarming with beasts and the prospectors met their end? Perhaps it was the madness that overtook them-the same madness infecting Yharnam, like a virus through a bloodstream.
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