Chapter 1: The Gravedigger

I lurched forward as the stagecoach came to a sudden stop. As I steadied myself, a loud thumping noise came from the roof of the carriage followed by a loud, raspy voice.

"We have arrived."

It was completely dark outside as I looked out the stagecoach window. The only source of illumination was a crude small lamp post at the dead end of the road a few feet away from the stagecoach. This was unexpected as I was made to believe that the coachman had known of my intended destination. I reached out for the door and took a step out of the carriage; feeling the bitter cold wind on my covered face. I could hear the four black stagecoach horses whinnying and snorting. They were nervous. As I stepped on the road, the coachman sitting above the carriage turned to look at me. He was wearing a black heavy overcoat with wide lapels and had a black top hat on. A thick red scarf was wrapped around his neck and lower jaw; obscuring his complete face. As he pulled down his scarf to speak, I could see the deep wrinkles on his sunken face. Perhaps it was due to his old age or the harsh working conditions of being country coachman.

"This is as far as I go, Hunter," he shouted curtly in his raspy voice, "You'll need to find another way to get to where you're going."

I merely nodded as he pulled up his scarf; ignoring his rudeness and understanding his dislike for Hunters. I retrieved my Hunter Pistol and Saw Cleaver from the stagecoach's undercarriage before handing some coins to the coachman. Even with his face obscured by the scarf, I could see the disgust in his eyes as he collected his pay. He then counted the coins before cracking his whip. The four black stagecoach horses neighed and pulled the carriage as they galloped down the road in the opposite direction. I watched as the stagecoach melted into the shadows; leaving me alone in the darkness. I held the Saw Cleaver in my right hand and holstered my Hunter Pistol before making my way to the lamp post. As I got closer to it, I found a small path leading into the dark forest behind it. Perhaps that would lead me to my destination. I found a medium-sized wooden branch around the lamp post and made it into a torch. It should keep the Scourge Beasts at bay as I traverse through the dark forest. Feeling prepared, I followed the path into the dark forest.

There were no signs or posts indicating the location of my destination as I walked through the pathway. Worse, the torch could only provide little illumination of the pathway and I found myself surrounded by total complete darkness. I continued walking through the pathway; my ears straining to listen in anticipation of an ambush. Then, just a few feet ahead of me, I saw another lamp post. Warily, I approached and found myself in what appeared to be a small graveyard with several headstones. With the torch still in hand, I walked through the graveyard; looking at each headstones. Each headstones were crudely made out of wood with some of them rotting and decaying. I saw a few headstones that had names written on them though I could not read them as they were written so crookedly. As I walked further down the graveyard, I heard a sound. Something or someone was digging somewhere. I searched through the graveyard for the source of the digging sound. It was then that I found a strange figure wearing a hooded white cloak filling a grave with a makeshift shovel. Next to it was a large pile of mangled corpses. I crept towards the strange figure; my Saw Cleaver at ready. As I got closer, the figure suddenly stopped digging.

"I recognise that scent."

The figure turned around quickly; catching me in surprise. From the flickering of the torch's flame, I saw the white robe he was wearing under the hooded cloak. He also wore no shoes. A white cloth was wrapped around his eyes; blinding him of his sight. Except for the pale grey skin and the markings on his arms and face, the strange figure looked human.

"You're a Hunter, aren't you?" he asked with a courteous tone, "You're far from Yharnam."

I did not answer as I was still contemplating on his appearance and his polite manner of speaking.

"You remain quiet, Hunter," the pale figure continued to speak, "Do not worry. I am no beast. Merely a gravedigger for these poor souls."

He motioned his hand to the pile of bodies next to him.

"As for the markings on my body, those are of my own. It is expected of a worshipper of Oedon."

The pale-skinned gravedigger was right. On closer inspection, the markings on his arms and face did looked similar to the Floating Oedon and the Oedon Writhe Caryll runes. I apologized to the gravedigger as I withdrew my Saw Cleaver. The pale-skinned gravedigger seem relieved.

"Now that we are in good terms, good Hunter," the gravedigger said with joy, "My name is Diggory. Diggory Graves. A rather fitting name for a grave digger, don't you think?"

I tried to stifle my laughter as I said that I agreed with him.

"Forgive me but I am curious," Diggory spoke with an inquisitive expression, "Not many Hunters come to this place. May I ask what brought you here?"

I considered answering his question. Unlike other people I have met, he had given me a great amount of politeness. What's more, I needed to know the way to get to where I was heading. I reached into the left pocket of my coat and pulled out a small piece of paper. On the paper was a crudely scribbled symbol. I placed the piece of paper in Diggory's right hand as I explained that I was looking for a place with that crude symbol. I watched as he glided his left fingers across the paper.

"I know this symbol," he exclaimed, "This is the symbol of the Baghead village. It was my home until I was exiled for my appearance."

Diggory handed me back the piece of paper as he began to talk about the village while describing his childhood memories.

"Ever since the beast scourge, however," he said with sorrow, "They have changed completely. Isolating themselves from the outside and attacking anyone who would dare to enter the village."

Diggory motioned to the pile of bodies next to him once again.

"I found these bodies outside the village walls; mangled beyond recognition. Perhaps these poor souls thought it would be wise to escape the beast scourge by entering the village; only to suffer a far more grim fate. I felt it was my responsibility to give them a proper burial."

He then turned to me and I could see the worry on his half-covered face.

"You're not thinking of going to Baghead, are you?" he asked

I answered that I had a purpose for visiting that village though I did not elaborate on my reason.

"Of course," Diggory said with an understanding tone, "I will not ask for an explanation. Allow me to show you the way."

With the makeshift shovel as a walking stick, the pale gravedigger guided me through the graveyard. He must have travelled to Baghead village multiple times as he easily maneuvered around the wooden headstones while still being blindfolded. We continued walking through the graveyard until we stood between two large ash trees.

"Beyond these trees is where you will find Baghead," Diggory explained as he pointed his makeshift shovel towards the dark forest, "There you will find a well-trodden path that leads to the village."

I thanked the pale gravedigger and was about to head into the forest when I felt his grip on my left arm.

"A warning, good Hunter," Diggory said with a worried expression, "Sometimes I hear a loud howling from the village. I fear that there is a beast hiding in the village somewhere. Be careful."

I thanked him for his warning before I made my way into the dark forest and saw the well-trodden path he mentioned. I took a last look at Diggory only to find him standing still with his hands clasped together.

"I will pray for you, good Hunter," he bellowed, "May Oedon protect and guide you."

I thanked him again before following the path into the forest once more.