A man walked through the frozen landscape, not clothed at all, except a small face mask covering his mouth. Nerrar hated this feeling, or rather, the lack of it, across his body. He wondered, what had he done to offend the gods to gain this fate cursed upon him. He hadn't known his parents, and the people who were there for him when he grew up, they didn't know about his curse. 

This time, not a single curse would stop him, he would become the god of Curses and Blessings, and he would require a heavy fee for when someone wanted to use his magic. A very hefty fee. Renro had pointed him to the place he was going now, this is where he could gain the power he wanted. Renro was the closest thing Nerrar had to a friend, and he knew it was kind off sad, that he couldn't even interact with said friend.

"Ah, there it is." He said in his usual voice, one that sounded like it was made with crashing rocks together and wheezing through it. He walked into the cave and took off his face-mask. "Well, what would we have here, the Collecter is here." He said without looking at the Collector's face. "My soul is not for you to use." He then turned to the other man. "The name is Nerrar, Nerrar Krondra, the Un-Living, unfortunately."