The Storytelling Skies of Bloodborne

There’s nothing new under the sun ‒ except in Bloodborne. 

Skyboxes are pretty standard. They’re the set dressing for the character’s stage ‒ and typically, that’s about all. They provide a nice ‘wow’ moment when entering a new area and they’re brilliant to show off in a game trailer but, like many game assets, they’re passive objects. You look at them, and like an old lady doting on her favourite grandchild you go ‘oooh, isn’t that nice’, and then you move on to your other grandchild who is spraying cookie crumbs over your favourite rug (see: Blood-starved Beast).

In Bloodborne, you’ll mostly be focused on the designs of beasts as you dodge, parry and thrust your trick weapon into their mutated flesh. The focus, as you would expect, is on gameplay ‒ and as a bonafide Souls game, naturally the plot is easy to miss. A lot of lore is discovered through snippets of item descriptions and little notes scattered throughout the world, but they’re few and far between. In Bloodborne, however, the skybox becomes a part of the story ‒ a constant marker of how deep into the hunt you are. 

Initially the sky is a mottled bruise of yellows, reds and purples, nestled around the ever-present moon. It’s gorgeously Gothic, immediately creating a sombre atmosphere as your hunter swishes onto the scene. There’s no day or night cycle, no weather cycle to consider ‒ just this one unending night. This is your purpose. You are currently in the dark as to what that purpose means more broadly, but the moon will be your constant companion: in this world and in the Hunter’s Dream. The Dream serves as a refuge, the old seat of the Hunters, and centers around their workshop where you can upgrade or modify your weapons. The sky here is completely dominated by the moon. It is unflinching, unchanging: a large gentle eye watching over the last of the Hunters protecting Yharnam, perfectly preserved in time.