Death

Death is an entity that embodies an enigma that everyone eventually comes to know. Death currently choose to manifest as a 9-foot-tall humanoid wearing a large, black cloak, concealing all of their features. In place of a face is a mask, with six pips that run down it in two columns on either side: like a die. One of the pips is larger, and serves as an eyehole. It carries a large but simple farmer’s scythe. Death occasionally jests about it, saying, “You made this thing, not me! How can I reap when I’m not really the one sowing?” Death has a carefree but jaded sense of humor, occasionally finding comedy in the circumstances of one’s death. Death runs this tavern with the intention of gathering and conquering enough lost souls to fabricate a new kind of afterlife. It chooses only fascinating heroes and tragic ends because, from Death’s perspective, “None of these beings ever knew themselves. They dwell in the past for too long! Pitiful, really. But only those who dwell in the past can remember the journey, remember what they lived. I want those people to know me.” Death enjoys a challenge, and enjoys more than anything to be “staved off” by its subjects. Even at the mention of someone beating death, Death perks up and races to the game table.