a mix for death personified

reapers, gods and goddesses of death, ferrymen on the river styx and all the other beings and beasts who call to the souls of the dead, dwelling in their halls of stone and iron and bone and waiting in the mist, beckoning and holding guiding lanterns high. they don’t remember mortality, if they were even mortal in the first place, but perhaps, sometimes, they sigh in pity or reach out a bony hand to comfort with a touch.

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