![[Death]](images/death.jpg)
Death has always had a soft spot for Cats
On the magic-saturated Discworld, anthropomorphic personifications take on a life (or, in DEATH's case, an existence) of their own.
Death is a seven-foot tall skeleton with pinpoints of blue fire in his eyesockets; he is not the ruthless destroyer of legend, but rather a timeserver who has all Eternity to serve.
He tries very hard to understand mortals, but this effort is largely negated by his utter lack of anything even remotely resembling a sense of incongruity or a sense of humour. He does care for them, and in Reaper Man he defended them to Azrael against the soullessness of bureaucracy.
Quote:
"THERE'S NO JUSTICE. THERE'S JUST ME."
"LORD, WHAT CAN THE HARVEST HOPE FOR, IF NOT THE CARE OF THE REAPER MAN?"
Death can be summoned by the Rite of AshkEnte, which requires either
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