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// Prologue: Ramblings Of An Old Man 
// Story: A Reaper's Travels 
// by KillerSteel 
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	"You know, I once heard this little... is it a story? Can you call it one? Maybe it's like a verse, or a... a passage! Yes, a passage. I heard this little passage a long time ago. It always stuck with me, and I'd recite it when I was bored, or had nothing to do. Helped me remember it... and I really have to credit whoever made it up. Let's see if... right, ok."

"And thus, he would arrive upon the wings of the fallen angels, black feathers drifting upon the invisible winds he rides on his descent. Brandished scythe and holy scripture, he guides those of the deceased from the earth to the Heavens where they may live out the rest of their eternities.

But lo, some would seek to create discord within this perfect order, and so he acts as guide, and as judge, jury, executioner. The law of the world, his to dictate, his to write and uphold, and so he descends once more to pay tribute, and to take his own back with him.

To sentence to Tartarus or to release to Heaven, his judgement is ultimate, his voice is absolute, and all respect and fear him.

For he is the Reaper, Death Itself, and as he rides the wind, his scythe cleaves the land, as Time dictates who may stay, and who must leave..."

"I love my job. Well, most of the time. Sometimes, things get strange in this line of work, and I mean really strange. I've seen a lot of stuff during my career, and things still weird me out from time to time."

The spirit sniffed, smirking. "But I figure that's why you came here, right? T' sit down, have a drink and listen to an old man ramble. Well, I won't disappoint you. So, suppose I'll show ya how things went, when I came across this place during my walk..."