Xerordir let out a deathly growl, accompanied by pitch black smoke from his jaw. The grow was accompanied by a ghostly sigh, that sounded like the final breath of a dying man. Except much, much, much louder.
"I don't know, it was just a job, kidnap a child from the area and sell him as a slaver, we got given special orders to take that specific one! We were told the boss got the orders from some really well known merc band. I don't remember their names, but their uniforms were distinct! Black metal with bleached white metal faces. Like deathly skull walkers! I don't know any more than that." The man was clearly terrified by the reaper behind him, and was pleading.
"True. One of the merc band died during the transfer and it was aborted, the child being sold on and then killed. Now you suffer for your sins." Xerordir picked the ghost up, and held it by the throat.
"The sins of the father be hollow and empty in the face of the blasphemy the son commits, and the sins run red with blood from all walks of life. Face your death Jontée, for children have wept at your carnal sins, and graves dug for you bloodlust. Face me." The ghost began to disintegrate, his agonised screams as every pain inflicted by him in life comes back to kill him. The skeleton of the ghost disintegrated completely and the floating debris was absorbed by the cloak.
