youre a hunter in yharnam, it is 1840. the usual blood and beasts, triumph and scars. the town is an imposing and sprawling, streets plagued with blood. beasts birthed by the streets. as you make your way to the end of central yharnam, you encounter a man, tall, broad, such descriptors would put to shame the stature of the man if uttered aloud, so you banish them from your mind, altogether, afraid that to even think them would become known to him. To your own height, he fairly looms, even from so far away, though he’s closing in quick, not of pace, but intention, sure footfalls bringing him abruptly before you. he dons hunters attire, with grey hair and bandages covering his eyes - a clergyman , a hunter , and a beast. father gascoigne.

"...beasts all over the shop... you'll be one of them, sooner or later..."