Back at the graveyard, he could see two iron gates. The small one on his right was shut tight from the other side while the big one on his left seemed unlocked. He pushed it, and with great difficulty managed to open it. The door was rusted. It seemed that no one had been around here for a very long time. He found himself in a cobbled street. Carriages and horse wagons were scattered left and right. Some were even destroyed and others seemed to have fallen to their side because of some previous accident. Skeletons of horses were lying next to their cars; some still had some rotten flesh on them. The street was empty and the only sounds he could hear were ones of smoke coming up from the sewers and some fire burning at the end of the street. Across the street, Surgit saw some stairs leading down. At the bottom there was a small opening with wooden benches on each side and an iron barricade in front of him. It looked as though it was a balcony that gave a vista on the city of Yharnam and the crimson sky, an effect of the setting sun.

The view that welcomed Surgit was amazing and bone chilling at the same time. In front of him lay a city built on top of a V shaped valley. Tall gothic buildings could be seen towering the ascending streets of the city. To link both parts of the valley, Surgit could see a great bridge in the distance. From the barricades he could see that the city extended downwards. There seemed to be no bottom to that valley. As far as his vision could reach, Surgit could only see rocks on each side and darkness in the middle. No living soul was to be seen around, only fire and smoke could be heard in the distance. He felt lonely, stranded in a ghost city he had almost no information about. He climbed back up the stairs and headed left, the only way available to him. As he made his way through the cobbled street, the sound of fire became more and more vivid. He reached an intersection where he could see an iron gate to his right and a street that took to the left. A stagecoach was parked at the left corner of the street.

The sound of burning fire emanated from behind the stagecoach. As Surgit looked around it, he saw a man holding a torch. He also had an unnaturally long right arm on which he held an axe and a short, humanoid, left arm that held the torch. The man saw him and swung his long axe at him. Surgit taken aback almost took the hit head on. He was lucky that the man’s swing was too wide and missed him by an inch, or was it his enhanced reflexes that helped him escape certain death? He recollected himself and cut the man open with his saw. “You are not welcome here” said the man as he fell down to the ground losing consciousness. Surgit looked at the man as he slowly drifted out of this world. What was the meaning of this? The old man at the cemetery had said something similar to him.