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I am, for all intents and purposes, Death.

My powers include a complete control of the dead; no necromancer can match the immortal who is in charge of them. They also include having the last word - someone who pisses me off dies? Oh good, I have a special dungeon in hell for fine tuned. While they have a live view of the fun things i am making the corpse do. I am not the strongest of the gods, by any means, but I do have patience, cunning, and centuries of buried dead at my disposal...

I am known to all as Krypton.

Those who follow me are generally necromancers, those who I had given the ability to summon the dead to the

I was the Creator's afterthought, made only for his purpose.

My powers grow from “Reaping”; the stronger the soul, the greater the gain.

I am Warden of the “Afterlife Chamber”, where the fate of the dead is decided, and ultimately a special form of hell to those who I particularly dislike.

My Realm is a sort of dungeon; depending on what I think of said person, it looks either more comfortable or more like Hell itself. Of course, there’s a place for that too. My own hell is basically hell… just fine tuned to the ones that pissed me off.

To Mortals I am but a dark-tinted skeleton with an old, almost moldy cloak. Old bones they are, but strong nonetheless.

To my Kin, I am similar to above, but with my energies visible and the souls of those I have claimed visible within the confines of my form. I can reveal it to humans if I wish, though… they end up becoming mad as a result.

I wield a staff which looks about as old as me; almost looking like it could break. It is stuffed with souls that it has taken, usually the ones that I gave a… special afterlife. While my body has souls coming in and out, this staff has the long-timers.

I have returned in the northern recesses of the Abbey of Broken Worlds, from where a new storm shall sweep…
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