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help with a build (burial blade/blades of mercy/ hunters tools)

I am looking to make a burial blade/ blades of mercy/ hunters tools build
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submitted by shadowdra126 to bloodborne

Naked and Afraid

John returned to his senses with a groan. As far as he could tell, he was lying on the ground, with the mother of all head aches. He tried to open his eyes, but the blinding sunlight shot painful arrows through his eyes, all the way up to his fuzzy feeling brain. He tried to stand up, but the world was spinning. On his ass would do just fine then for now.
- "Where am I? Did I get plastered last night ?" he asked himself.
Confused, he managed to take a look around him, through squinted eyelids, trying to clear the static in his head, and get his bearing. He was in a grassy clearing, in the middle of a strange looking forest. His eyes fell onto himself.
- "What the hell?" He was naked. Like butt naked. And in the middle of nowhere. First thought was that the guys in his crew pranked him.
Rolling a bit onto his right side, he managed to stand up. Blood rushed to his head and made him dizzy again. He stood still for a couple of second, eyes closed, waiting for the world to stop spinning so damn fast. Then he slowly opened them, and looked around one more time. The trees 50 yards farther, the grass at his feet... he didn't recognize any of them.
- "Hello? Anyone here?" he shouted.
No answer came. Just some birds that chirped and took flight from the nearest tree, and some critter that screeched somewhere deeper into the woods.
Not knowing what to do, he started to look more carefully around the place he woke up, looking for... anything, really. For his clothes, for footprints, for tire tracks, for a path... anything. And he found absolutely nothing. The grass was untouched, except for his footprints. And for his body print. It was like he had been dropped on that spot right from the sky. Seeming that being the only option his gaze shifted upwards. And his jaw dropped. There were two suns visible. TWO! He rubbed his eyes, hopping it was double vision. He looked again. Yup... two happy yellow suns were shinning bright on the peaceful clearing and on one hopelessly confused human.
About an hour later, the head ache was mostly gone, and his mind was clear. He had thought hard, and was pretty sure he remembered every last of his conscious minutes. He had been on a merchant ship, from Earth, to the colony Arcadia. Last thing he remembered, was that they were in hyperspace, with only about 10 hours left until destination, when something went wrong, and their ship was thrown out of the hyperspace lane, with all the alarms blaring. After that... darkness.
He didn't know what went wrong. He was just the accountant on board. Had no clue about how all that FTL stuff worked, or what could go wrong with it. But he clearly was on an alien planet. There was no wreckage around him, not a scratch on his body, and someone had removed all his clothes.
- "If that doesn't say alien abduction, then I don't know what will." he mumbled to himself, looking a little more suspicious around him, as if he expected little grey aliens to pop their heads out of the taller grass at anytime.
Wondering what the hell to do next, he started to go around the clearing, by the edge of the forest, looking for paths, tracks... He decided to wait around this clearing for now, and not to wander too far. Whoever put him here, might return. Maybe they saved him (and hopefully the rest of his crew too), from the failing ship? At least they put him on a planet where he could breathe. And not somewhere like Mars, or something. That meant they wanted him to live, right? But why take his clothes?
As he reached the furthest end of the clearing, he heard the faint sound of water gurgling. He followed the sound and found a small creek, bubbling through the forest. John approached carefully and squatted near the water. He tested it with one finger - seamed normal water, as far as he could tell. Picked up some into his cupped hands and smelled it. It smelled a bit like rotten leaves, but nothing really unpleasant. Took a sip into his mouth, and didn't feel anything strange. Even if he was very thirsty, he only had a few sips. He was going to wait a few hours. If he was going to feel no ill side effects, he was going to have his fill then.
Without even realizing, he had entered into surviving mode. You know - like thinking about water, shelter, fire, food... So, before he left the creek, he collected some rocks, thinking to make himself a hearth. He returned to the clearing, but he didn't go to where he had woken up a couple of hours earlier; he stayed on this end of the clearing, closer to the forest, and to the little creek. He looked up and tried to see if the two suns moved, to see if he should expect nightfall soon. Indeed, both suns seemed to have moved a bit, in different directions, but it looked like he still had a lot of daylight left.
- "Alright John... you can do this. You've watched enough survival shows, you've read Robinson Crusoe... you can make it through this, whatever 'this' is..." he mumbled to himself. "Search party from Earth is sure to find the ship (or what's left of it), and I'm guessing this planet is somewhere near our...crash? Or whoever saved me (or took me) from the ship is probably going to return... Just got to find myself an Wilson, and stop talking to myself."
Three days later, he had progressed somewhat. He had made himself a lean-to at the edge of the forest, under a solid looking tree. Packed it with soft, dry grass and leaves. Made himself some sort of grass skirt, to protect his privates from scratches and dirt. He had tested some berries and fruits he picked from the forest, and so far they were all edible. The water had been ok too. The night before he managed to start a fire, using two pieces of dried wood, just like in that old movie "Cast away".
And today he was building himself some tools. Or at least he tried. He was at his ten or ninth attempt at making some sort of blade, by chipping the edge of a flat rock, the size of his palm. He had not been pleased at all with the results of the last attempts, but his hands already hurt from banging rocks all day, so this tenth blade will just have to do.
Proud of himself, he placed the sharpened rock next to a bola he made earlier this morning. In the last three days, regarding fauna, he had seen only birds and insects. About 10 species of birds, with sizes between sparrow and geese. He made the bola thinking to go hunting for some protein. He could have made himself a spear, but his chances of bagging a few of those geese was higher with the bola. A knotty length of wood completed his "arsenal", taking the role of a club.
Finishing his project for the day, John stood up, getting ready to go foraging for some berries. He stretched, and froze. At the opposite side of the clearing, about 100 yards away, a flock of big birds was exiting the forest. He slowly crouched, careful not to spook them. They were big. Actually they were the biggest birds he'd seen so far, alien planet or not. They looked like Big Bird from Sesame Street had an affair with an ostrich. Their feathers were mostly greyish, with some more colored ones on top of their heads. They had two long, powerful looking legs. Pear shaped body, but not really upright - a bit inclined forward. Long neck, but way thicker than the neck of an ostrich. The head and the huge beak looked exactly like those of a Shoebill Stork. They didn't look like they were flying birds; they were too big.
He had to admit that they were an impressive sight. An opinion shared by his stomach, which began to grumble at the sight of all that feather covered protein. John looked at his bola and his club, looked back at the flock of birds, rubbed his grumbling stomach, and decided to try to hunt one.
Still crouching, he grabbed his club in one hand and the bola in the other. Slightly lifted his head above to tall grass to check the flock's movement one more time. After exiting the forest, the birds spread out into the clearing, slowly making their way towards the center, probably grazing, or hunting insects and what not. John did a quick count and numbered 11 of them, with what seemed to be an alfa male in the middle of them. John check the wind's direction. It was blowing from left to right. Keeping low to the ground, he slipped into the forest and began to run as quit as he could, circling to the right of the birds. His intention was to use the cover of the forest, and flank the birds from downwind. He hoped to bring down the bird furthest on the right, and scare the rest. If the birds proved too tough, he would dash back into the forest, using the trees and bushes for cover.
Five minutes later, he was on their right flank, watching them from the cover of the last trees. The birds were slowly walking, spread out almost in a row, and they were near the middle of the clearing.
"Let's do this!" thought John to himself. He lowered himself and slipped through the grass towards the closest of the birds. When he was about ten paces away, he stood up slowly, and started to swing his bola. The bird heard him, and turned it's head towards him with a surprised croak. It didn't explode into a run, as any bird on Earth would, when surprised by anything.
"They probably don't have any predators or hunters to run from", thought John, and released the bola with a powerful swing. The weapon hit the alarmed bird and wrapped around its neck. The bird managed to squawk once, and dropped to the ground. Its feathered wings, which had some small talons at one of their joints, were pointless trying to get the bola off. As the other birds turned towards him, in surprise and in alarm, John yelled like a madman, and started to run towards his victim, waving his club around, and trying to scare away the rest of the flock.
- "Shoo! Shoo, you overgrown turkeys! Shoo!"
The closest 3 or 4 birds began to run away from him, in a confused panic. But the big one in the center, the alpha of the flock, released an angry screech, stopping them in their tracks. The alpha lowered it's nasty looking beak and began to run to the aid of it's fallen flock mate.
"God dammit" thought John. "Big Bird got balls...". He considered his initial thought of retreating to the forest, but he didn't want to leave his catch to slowly die of suffocation. It was his duty to put it out of it's misery. He was also very very hungry... So he faced the charging alpha, gripping his club with both hands.
When the alpha was about two yards away, it leaped at him, with its legs (and its corresponding talons) forward. John stepped to the left, swinging his club down, as Big Bird flew past him. He hit it in it's extended legs, and the bird landed nasty, with a screech of pain. John leaped to it and swung his club again, straight at its head, putting an end to it's anguish. He then turned towards the rest of the flock, and screamed at them again. This time, seeing their leader killed, the other birds broke into panic and fled. Breathing relieved, John returned to the bird with the bola around its neck. It was almost passed out. He lowered himself next to it, put one knee over its neck, grabbed hold with both hands of the birds head and beak, and with a sudden and powerful upward twist, broke it neck, and killed it.
Aboard the cruiser "Steel Talon", the war council of the Bari was watching in horrified silence the satellite live feed from the planet bellow. The planet's designation was "Special Forces Training Facility". It was here that they tested their tactics, improved the performance of their troops, organized wargames, and where they researched how other species fought, before engaging into a war against them.
When they discovered the humans, they didn't initiate contact. They observed and studied them. Looking for weaknesses. They managed to capture one specimen, from a commercial ship, and dropped it on the Training planet. After observing it for a couple of days, to see what the human eats, how he behaves, it's sleeping cycle, and so on, a special forces squad had been sent to sharpen their talons and skills by hunting the human.
If the reports from the first days had been rather boring, the last hour of the live feed had been something straight out of a nightmare. The human took everyone by surprise by attacking the elite squad of Bari warriors. Nobody expected that. They were expecting it to run, maybe to put up a fight when cornered... But for him to attack an entire squad by himself? Madness...
When the first warrior went down, by the strange crafted weapon of the human, it was almost excusable. You could blame it on the surprise of the attack. When the brave squad leader stopped his panicking flock mates, and bravely charged the alien, every member of the war council watching the feed puffed up his feathers with pride and admiration. But the swift and ugly death that followed put them all in a state o shock. And the scenes that followed wouldn't allow them to exit that state.
The cold blooded execution of the first downed warrior, a prisoner of war by any rules, sent chills from the top of their crests, down to their tail feathers. The satellite feed didn't have sound, but when the human broke the warrior's neck with it's bare hands, everyone heard in their heads the ugly "crunch" of the warrior's spine.
After that they watched in horror as the human carried both fallen troopers back to his camp, and began to pluck all the feathers from their still warm bodies.
- "...Why? Why would he desecrate their corpses like that?" Asked a young captain, in disbelief... "He already won... He killed them... There is nothing more for him to gain from torturing their bodies..."
The horrors did not stop there. After the corpses had been thoroughly plucked, they watched as the human picked up a sharpened rock, slit their bellies, and began gutting them. There were very few members in the councils that did not vomit when the human put his paws up to his elbows into the fallen troopers, and began yanking out their guts.
Everyone of the members of the war council wanted to stop looking. To stop the satellite feed... But it was their duty to watch. To be prepared for the horrors that a war with humans would mean. They owed it to the two fallen soldiers to watch their desecration until the end. And so they watched.
They watched how the human hastily built some sort of rack from a few branches, and then began cutting the flesh from one of the dead troopers (you couldn't tell them apart by now), into thin strips, and setting them onto the rack, one strip after another. The actions of the humans were beyond their power of comprehension.
After finishing his gruesome task of stripping the flesh from one of the cadavers, the human started a fire. When he first had managed to start a fire, two days ago, by rubbing some pieces of wood toghether, the Bardi had been impressed. Now they were numb with pain and were just wondering, with sick fascination, what would the barbaric creature do next.
The human made two holes in the ground on two sides of his hearth, and wedged a piece of wood into each hole, fixing them to stand upright. He then sharpened a longer, straight branch at one end, and the he... he... Not even one single member of the council was able to keep his face towards the big screen. They all turned or lowered their heads (some heaving heavily), as the human plunged his sharpened pole into the backside of the second corpse, and pushed, and hammered it in, until the sharp end exited through the neck of the corpse. He pushed some more, until a good length of bloodied wood was visible on both sides. With a heave, he placed the pole with impaled dead trooper over the burning fire, with the ends of the pole suspended on the upright pieces of wood planted on the sides of the fire.
The silence in the war room council was heavy. The air was thick with the smell of puke from the Bari that didn't make it to the facilities and had vomited right there. Their were staring with blank eyes at the horror on the screen. Nobody had the power to even move anymore. They stood like that for more than half an hour. In silence. Thankfully, the human seemed to have finished his horrific spree, and was now sitting calmly by the fire, adding pieces of wood on it, from time to time, and sometimes rotating a bit the gruesome pole.
General Konk, a veteran of many wars, managed to found the strength to croak meekly:
- "Perhaps the beast has finally sated his thirst of revenge and this is a... funeral pyre..."
The rest of his words died in his throat, as the human reached for his sharpened stone, and with lustful eyes, and trembling, unpatient hands, cut a piece from the corpse and put it in his mouth.
The senior general reached for the remote and mercifully shut down the screen. They all stood frozen for a few minutes.
- "This is madness... I will not send even one of my soldiers against....that! I have never seen such ... cruelty in the entire universe. War against this species is out of the question. We will continue to avoid them, and inform all of the other races we are in contact with to avoid them too. The recording of these events must be sealed and never shown to the public or to our troops."
The words of the senior general were met with mute, but unanimous agreement. The decision to avoid the humans lifted some of the heaviness from the room. That was until the big screen came back online, on its on. But this time, it was not the satellite feed. The screen was filled with the image of an angry human, in military looking outfit.
- "This is general Clegane, of the Battleship HMS 'The Hound'. May I ask what in the name of the Almighty did you had in mind when you attacked one of our merchant ships?"
submitted by Aiass to HFY