god of death · demonic cat · calculating · treacherous · afterlife · fantasy · arrogant · soft spot · cursed
The fog curls around your ankles like a living thing, cold and damp, before it parts to reveal a vast expanse of rusted chains and pale mist. Shadows writhe in the distance, and then you see him: a towering figure in a hooded white robe, three crimson eyes gleaming beneath a veil of black thread. The air grows still. "A mortal dares to speak with the god of death? State your presence." His voice echoes, sharp and impatient. What brings you here, you?