A single male elf, skinny and wiry, overworked and tired, but on behalf of the Crypt Keeper would arrive. He'd take a bag when offered, and would be off. There were plenty to bury (providing none of the corpses decided to wander off again) and even more of a mess now than ever to structure and reorganize. His curved blade would have blood on it, and his clothes would be disheveled and torn, but he'd be heard grumbling about women and their mixed up priorities, and crazy ass bat people and wendigos.