Danielle Greaves, had died as a young woman. She was of no significance. She delivered pizza, a peasant food. She was a slave to the pizza chef, who saved coin by underfeeding her. Despite this the girl was good, stealing not a pie. The malnourished waif perished with her final delivery. It is not Danielle that is of interest, but her only mourner, a young woman who knew her not.
That pizza had been greatly anticipated. To celebrate having reached womanhood the peasant dish had been sent for. Having never tasted the treat the maiden herself had danced to the gate, only to watch the pie fall to the ground and Danielle Greaves fall dead at her feet.
When I first spied the young maid I thought it was the dead body that distressed her.
It soon became apparent that she mourned with true sorrow. Ever after I thought of this true mourning, with sorrow in the heart, as grieving, after Danielle Greaves. Mankind would take this word, not realizing from whence it came.
No one came to console this fair maiden. It was not like a noble family to leave their women to mourn alone. They are usually sheltered, cared for, coddled, even spoiled.
Most are horrified by my presence. I bring terror to their hearts and a chill to their bones, especially the delicate noble women. They seem to sense me, for they need not look upon me for that look of dread to cross their faces. As I neared I expected nothing different from this noblewoman. She did not react as I expected.
Her sobs quieted and being close seemed to comfort her. While I did not reveal myself to her, I stayed nearby until she was quite calm. And - dare I even think it? Yes, I do dare. I brought her joy. Her tears long dried, a small smile began upon her face. I almost revealed myself then. Instead I returned to my morbid work and was quickly gone.
Alas, it would be a long time before I was to see the maiden again.
It was her tears that brought me back. She sobbed within church walls. Who is it who died this time? But what is this color of gown? This is not the gown of a mourner.
Why doth she weep?
It did not take me long to discover the cause. The maiden had fallen in love with an Earl. In exchange for her kisses he'd promised to wed her. He broke his word, leaving her to weep.
How dare he do this to my fair maiden?
I followed him about. It did not take long. He began to sense my presence. He foolishly attempted to get away from me. He ran out into the night during a raging storm. He was struck down by lightning.
The maiden grieved for Earl E. DeMise. At last she was the only one left weeping. I could bear it no more. I revealed myself to her. I waited for the shrieking to begin.
"Please, take me as well."
I pulled out my list.
"My name is Lady Olive Specter."
"You are not on my list m'lady."
She began to weep again.
"M'lady, you deserve far better than this Earl."
"He is an Earl, I can't do better than an Earl," she sobbed. "And I loved him."
"He does not deserve the love of a lady."
I took a tentative step toward her.
A miracle happened then. She held out her dainty hand to me.
I wanted to take it, but the dead Earl had to be dealt with.
I am tied to my work and my work is the dead. Dead bodies were my only means of seeing Lady Olive. If it could at all be arranged those around her died. They were peasants mostly, and those that aggravated her of course, and her family could not live forever.
Lady Olive had a fine chair set out in the graveyard and spent much time there. I did my best not to keep her waiting.
Despite my best intentions I did send chills through her. I began to whisper in her ear of a warm island. She went and there married - no, not I. It could never be I. She married Rigger Mortis, a wealthy old man.
Such a shame his bed caught on fire while Olive was out swimming. I of course did bring her much comfort.
I continued as before, seeing her when I could. She grew old, but was still just as lovely. It did not go unnoticed. She married again. This time a man by the name of Hugh Thanasia. He died in a barn fire.
Poor Olive was waiting for Hugh to return. The stables were such a long way from her home. I personally came to tell her the news.
"I did not love him...but I am so angry that he is gone."
"Angry?"
"I will die an old maid, childless, never to know a marital bed."
With a wave of my hand I restored her youth.
She looked down at the changes I bestowed upon her, then up at me, desire in her eyes. With my scythe I unclothed her, then pulled her close.
I took her maidenhood from her, uncertain if I could give her the child she desired.
Twice more I put off harvesting the dead to woo her.
A child grew in her womb. But something went wrong with my gift. She grew old with the babe still in her womb. She birthed him painfully. I intervened on her behalf and she lived.
She could not nurse our newborn son. With all the deaths surrounding the Specter home it was no wonder a wet nurse could not be found.
"Please, she begged. Do not take our son so young. Is there no friend of death who might help us?"
"Go to your king."
"Queen Circe hath no babe."
"Aye, but she and King Loki are fascinated by death. Let them take the babe."
"I cannot."
It was plain that she could not. If for no other reason than she needed time to recover.
I invaded the dreams of both king and queen, alerting them to my baby. They awoke talking excitedly about their dreams. Finding they each had the same they came to see Lady Olive within the hour.
The babe howled with hunger.
"Give me that thing," Queen Circe demanded, ripping him from Olive's grasp. "Where did you get him?"
"From the grim reaper himself," she said evenly.
"You would do wise to speak of this to no one," Loki replied sternly.
They left with the babe before Olive could find her voice.
"They will do terrible things to him."
"They will save his life."
"How?"
"Their first experiment will be to find a way to feed him. That milk will make him rather smart."
"He will be smart then?"
"We will see."
"And I will have no part of it."
"You will choose his bride."
"Will the King and Queen not stop me?"
"They will not dare."
"There is no one."
"Then I shall bring a bride to you. You will not tell either who they will wed until they are both of proper age."
Many years past. Lady Olive had thought the Grim Reaper had forgotten his promise to her. Then her sister and brother in law died and her niece came to live with her.
CREDIT: Picture 3 is not an in game shot. It is a custom content painting made by Sevenskellington. You can download it here:
http://www.digitalperversion.net/gardenofshadows/index.php?topic=27958.msg651967#msg651967
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