Truth be told he didn't care for those heroes, not at first. He wasn't in the business of caring for a bunch of idealists that saw things as they were, and not the implications of what hid underneath. But on the other hand, he had to view this as a necessary action. While he did not enjoy the thought of entertaining a group of heroes, the sooner that they were away the better.

So it was with a heavy heart that he sent the poor girl to invite them to his manor. A bit of powder and a cloak could do wonders for her, that a good bath. Not that he'd be able to get her to take one to help her disguise, but he wasn't going to push that particular issue. Besides, it wasn't as if her smell would make her impression any worse than it could already be. She just had to invite them, say a few words, and then leave. It was not a particularly hard job, but entrusting it to a monster would certainly lead to more problems if her clumsiness got in the way. As much as he viewed her as a, well what exactly did he view her as?

She clearly saw him as an anomaly, one to be studied. Perhaps she even saw him in a more romantic lightly, but he did not return those feelings, at least not in the way that she wanted. He knew what she was expecting from him at the end of her sessions with him, and it wasn't one that he often did. She'd complain if he denied her, but it was more of a pout than anything worthwhile. But to him, she was more of a servant, for he did find a use for her. The Doll had always been a near constant companion of his, and she had followed him not to long after ending up in this new world. And as she was out of the dream, she would need a caretaker.

That girl had done her job quite well, and the Doll was well taken care of. Although she had questioned why he insisted on acting as if the Doll was alive. Ah, the innocence of her. She had not dreamed, so how could she know? If she knew, then she could see. But by the same idea, she would also have seen what haunted the dream. And if she had known, then she would certainly have screamed.

Whatever the case, she served her role well enough. She just needed to speak with them and keep her distance, only a complete simpleton could mess that up.

So the day quickly turned into night, with neither the girl or the adventurers appearing. For the first few hours he wasn't worried. In fact, he did a large number of things to pass the time. Whether it was his attempts at gardening, polishing his collection of weapons, or just simply cleaning the manor. It was relaxing work, but eventually it's novelty had started to wear off, and he began to realize how long she had been gone.

So he decided to take action, in a suitable fashion of course. Donning one of his heavier sets, the one that he had recovered from Cainhurst. It certainly made him appear to be more noble than he actually was, and made the villagers just a bit more open to him. Or perhaps that was just what he wanted to believe, but did he truly care about that?

Than came the weapons, a rather touchy subject for him. So many of these weapons carried the taint of blood with them, no matter how much he cleansed them. So instead he opted for the cleaner weapons, Ludwig's blade and his old rifle. Ludwig may have suffered many indignations, but his sword and rifle still carried with them some small amount of mercy. Perhaps it was just him, but the taint felt weaker from them. Perhaps Ludwig truly had died in peace after all.

Adjusting his wig one final time, he set out to find his wayward companion. He could leave the manor to the Doll, she wouldn't cause any trouble.

It was a simple matter to slip into the village, despite that temple's presence there weren't that many guards for the village. The town barely had anything in the way of defenses, so he just walked right in. It was a pitiful state of affairs, but his manor was far harder to break into.

Now came the hard part, finding that party and the girl. While the village was fairly small, it was also spread out once you got of the town center. So he found himself having to stalk his way through the town, hoping to find some trace of either. Now if he was a hero, the first place he probably would've visited would have either been an inn or tavern. Of course, saying that the villagers would let him go in would be a lie. They were suspicious people, and they already had a rather severe distrust of foreigners. Now he had certainly won over no one when he built his mansion, or the methods that had been used in it's construction. Even here, the Messengers found him and saw fit to help him in construction.

While their help was certainly appreciated, their design choice was something that he did not need to see. Cainhurst Castle was something that he had more than enough of, so of course they had to produce something that looked far too realistic for his tastes. More importantly, the villagers began to become more wary of him. They knew that no man could construct such a mansion, and he swore that they began making crude signs when they thought his presence was gone. Well, Cainhurst Castle would certainly do that too a man, and he wouldn't blame them for fearing his manor. Likewise, that poor girl started questioning him even more, he did not feel the need to oblige her, and her questions quickly died down when she had a roof over her head.

So he had to get a bit creative in his hunting, a few broken pots and a strong cocktail or two were more than enough to get others to run away. It was much easier for him to conduct his investigation if people were indoors, much easier to roam the town after all.

It was easy to enter the tavern now that everyone had been scattered across the village. A few pointed questions, and a handful of gold, were more than enough to open up the tavern owner's mouth. The village was full of men who would gladly sell out an outsider, especially if it got them out of their hair. The not so subtle implication that the adventurer's might meet a premature end seemed to sweeten his bargain.

In the end, he was glad that he cared little for the taste of alcohol. He would never want to frequent this tavern as long as he lived, if only because of its owner.

As it had turned out, the party was indeed staying at the village inn. And most curiously, a certain girl was also spotted walking towards the inn. Armed with the description of those two, he began the thankfully short trip to the inn.

Of course, dealing with the innkeeper would be a bit more challenging. If there was one thing he could say about the nightmare, was that force was the solution to almost every last one of his problems. Here he had to be a bit subtler, if only because he didn't want to have to deal with a large mob trying to come for his head.

So once again a well-placed bribe got him in through the door, and the tacit approval he felt that the innkeeper could've cared less if he had killed the party. He did not enjoy having to deal with these types of people, but as it stood this village was the only one where he could settle down without too many questions being thrown his way.

In fact the innkeeper had been more than helpful, even giving him the key to their room. Opening the door with sword and gun in hand, he was prepared for the worst.

So it shouldn't have surprised him when he saw the unconscious forms of four heroes, and that girl. A quick glance around the room showed little in the way of a struggle, and a quick whiff of the air showed that they hadn't degenerated into some sort of orgy. Although another glance around the room lent him a telltale clue as to why they were unconscious.

Just a sniff was enough to tell him, damn drunkards, the lot of them.

Of course, now that he had arrived it would appear that they were finally starting to stir.

He would love to hear their explanations as to why he had found a bunch of drunks. Assuming he was not busy punishing that little monster, who had managed to stir something in him, something that he had not felt for quite some time. Even as miniscule as it was.

Actual fear for someone, something that he had not felt since Yharnam.