Plastered across the gates to Old Yharnam is a small note warning hunters to turn back, citing them as unnecessary in the abandoned town ahead. Fail to heed the message, and a booming voice will resound from atop the old church’s Astral Clocktower, issuing one last warning before unleashing a hailstorm of bullets down upon the persistent intruder. You wouldn’t think that the owner was once a beast hunter. But Djura had never been your typical hunter. He is one of the old hunters, with the grey hair to prove his tenure. The elder also dresses in the garb of someone from Gehrman’s workshop, and his dialogue reveals that he too had previously been part of the Hunter’s Dream — the ash covering his attire as part of a blood-warding ritual confirms familiarity with even the Chalice Dungeons. But instead of strictly adhering to Gehrman’s school of hunting, Djura went to the Powder Kegs for his main weapon. His membership wasn’t for the sake of sport or enmity. Rather, it is because Djura is far too kind.

Abandoned Town from here. Beast hunters unneeded, turn back.
Hunter, didn’t you read the warning? Turn back. The Old City is a town of beasts, merely living in confinement after it was burned and abandoned. What harm are they to the people above? Turn back… Otherwise, we will hunt you.
Apparel of the old hunter Djura. Covered in ash, it has the meaning of a ritual to ward off blood.
Djura, who is known for his relations with the workshop heretics the “Powder Kegs”, was a very kind and foolish man. Thus, he despaired at the miserable sight of the Old City and stopped being a hunter.
His choice of weapon, the Stake Driver, makes a point of being a “one-shot kill” in its Japanese description. Indeed, the sheer force behind the mechanism would drive a massive stake right through the beast’s heart, killing it instantly. The only issue is keeping the nimble beast in place long enough for the stake to hit home, one miss leaving a dangerous opening for the hunter enmeshed in a life-or-death struggle. For that reason, Djura adopted the workshop’s blunderbuss as his firearm, the shotgun excellent for catching his swift prey; just a moment’s hesitation recoiling from a stray shot, and the beast would meet a sharp hammer in its chest. From all of this, we can see a consistent through line: kill the beast in the swiftest and least painful way possible. Djura didn’t want to grind up beasts with a saw or burn them with an explosive blast. Those methods left it alive too long throughout. No, he aimed to minimize his prey’s suffering, enough to risk for himself an unwieldy weapon. It was a foolish choice, for sure, but it also showcases the man’s soft heart.
… I see. Very good. I don’t see the dream now, but even I was once a hunter. A hunter hunt is simply abominable. Just remember. You are not hunting beasts. They are still men. You will realize it someday…
Ironically, Djura’s apparent success with his new one-and-done methods made him popular among his fellow hunters, his characteristic frayed “wolf” hat becoming the standard fashion. Whether or not the man cared to have become his juniors’ idol, he was certainly no dogged hunter like the hat might impress; not anymore. And when confronted by the Old Yharnam Incident, he couldn’t muster the will to be a hunter even. Initially, they all thought it would only be in case of a true emergency. But that emergency came on that red moonlit night. Their home was set in flames, hunters leaping through conflagrations to ensure no beast trapped within would see the dawn, countless unafflicted left to burn in their homes. It was a miserable sight, one Djura ultimately couldn’t bear to watch any longer. If the whole city was a lost cause, its residents needing to be sacrificed for the greater good, what point was there in killing the beasts when the town could be safely abandoned? But based on Djura’s dialogue, his comrades were merciless blood drunkards, the real monsters. And that broke their idol.

Apparel of the old hunter Djura. The frayed wolf hat was known to be particularly symbolic.
Djura, who is known for his relations with the workshop heretics the “Powder Kegs”, was a very kind and stupid man. Thus, he despaired at the miserable sight of the Old City and stopped being a hunter.
One of the standard hunting apparel prepared by the workshop.
It is excellent hunting apparel and will probably demonstrate stable defense effect when facing the inhuman beasts that squirm around Yharnam.
It is said that its hat characterized by withered feather vanes is modeled on a certain old hunter.
… You are a fine hunter. Excelling in hunting, merciless, drunk on blood. A fine hunter, indeed. That is exactly why I must hunt you!
Ejected from the Hunter’s Dream for refusing the hunt, Djura set out to stop the madness, even if that meant putting his life on the line against immortals. He wasn’t alone in this endeavor, as three others became his sworn allies. Perhaps they were moved by his example, or just came to the same realization in the midst of this grizzly affair. Either way, with the help of these companions, Djura managed to drive the hunters out of Old Yharnam. However, there was always the chance that they would return to finish the “purification”, so they set up a position at the old Healing Church clinic. Djura manned the Powder Kegs’ gatling gun atop the clocktower while the others took the frontline to lead more evasive prey into the line of fire. In worst case, the leader was willing to use the molotov cocktails originally intended for the city — they could suffer like the beasts did.
The fours’ vigilance proved prophetic, for we can see many humans strung up to resemble the Hunter’s rune, an example to other hunters too bloodthirsty for their own good. This might sound odd when the Healing Church had sealed entrance to the town. However, the Church was most likely the ones sending the hunters. As custodians of the Lower Church, they operated the seal, and they had motive to at least reclaim resources from the old city if not the city itself. Cut dialogue for Alfred posits that the Church has been after the Pthumerian grail enshrined in the Church of the Good Chalice for quite a while. Whether or not this remains true in the final game, the notion that a Church affiliate hanging around Cathedral Ward would know about the objective but not the cause of failure suggests that their “impediment” down in the valley is Djura and friends hunting all intruders. This is why the warning on the door was needed. Even with hunters of the Dream disbanded, church hunters were still threatening the beasts.
The Holy Grail of the Old City should have been one of the church’s objectives from a while ago… but if we have yet to hear of success, there might have been some impediment.
However, their watch couldn’t stand in perpetuity. One of the three is dead, the body possibly still in the hunters’ base during the Old Yharnam Incident. Djura and crew set up their position in front of that building, their perfect shelter after driving out the other hunters; the locked door forcing us to scale down through a back way reinforces that impression. Looting the two hunter corpses inside likewise provides the soot-covered attire the ally wears and the rifle spear he wields. Whether he is either cadaver or neither, his cause of death is unlikely to be due to age, being the youngest among the group. One possibility is assisted suicide after contracting the beast scourge, preferring to die before he might threaten his comrades. Another option is simply succumbing to injuries suffered fending off the intruders — none of them use blood vials, so any first aid would be limited. Regardless, his soul ended up captured in the Hunter’s Nightmare, forced to hunt man and beast like most of the rest.
Thing forcibly remodeled so that one can hold the stationary cannon that the old hunter Djura used in the Old City, and it is said that the youngest of Djura’s three comrades had used it.
It possesses an extremely high rate-of-fire but is very heavy and rapidly consumes Quicksilver Bullets. You can probably say that it is a difficult weapon to handle.
Djura’s second compatriot simply up and left for Loran. Beastclaw Josef dresses in the same sooty attire as the other two but wearing a Tomb Prospector Hood instead of their black hood. Evidently, he wanted to open graves in the underground ruins. The reason why is apparent from his name as the Beastclaw. Rather than use a saw spear and hunter pistol or portable gatling gun like the other two, Josef has opted for the whittled and bound claws of a darkbeast. From this, we can infer that he had become especially sympathetic to the beasts, perhaps owing to swinging from the opposite extreme — he carries a fire damp blood gem on his person, indicating a particular love for “purification” prior to his change of heart. In the end, his goal was to become closer to the beasts they protected, so he left to acquire power from the lost beast nation. Thus, he became the Beastclaw, where “Izzy’s Admirer” shows that he eventually succumbed to bestial instinct chasing after that high of bloodlust.
That leaves only one to stand by Djura as he continues to train his eyes, and gatling gun, on the city gates. They aren’t looking to recruit, since Djura sends us away even if we promise no hostility toward the beasts. As our senior, he will gift his old Powder Keg badge as a final farewell, but only because it serves no purpose to him at present. Protecting the beasts of Old Yharnam is their personal duty, and they won’t drag others into it. In that case, perhaps showing mercy is weakness, because we can still betray his trust and face retaliation, wondering if we are simply addicted to blood or insanity. Djura advises after killing such a drunkard that the weak-hearted shouldn’t become hunters — a wise statement with precedent. If only he had the self-awareness to take that to heart himself.
… Now, go already. This is a farewell gift to my junior. Because whatever the case, I don’t need it anymore.
You coward! I see, a man suitable for manhunting, are you!? Fine then, no need to hesitate! Become beast food!
… It is blood, or madness you are drunk on…? The weak of heart shouldn’t become hunters. Let me do the hunting!