The Angel of Death lives in a land of snow and frost, his hardened face is ghastly to behold and his wings are crystal, his foul breath is like the north wind and his voice is hollow, he sits alone in his dead world hating all who live and are warm, his master is Horcon the God of destiny and when your name is called he comes to you and puts out his clawed hand to take the last of your life and for an instant he feels the warmth of being and he sheds a single tear that soon turns to ice.