"Garrett shutters and reflects on his time deep in the heart of the old city. He found a stash of little manuals, illustrated story books found deep within the ruins just to the south and west of Ridgeway. A few of the little booklets had a cover of a voluptuous woman with white hair, wearing next to nothing. The title of the booklets announced her as Lady Death. Garrett found little of interest within the booklets and left them deep in the collapsed building where he found them. Clearly the artists who drew the rough caricature had never experienced death up close."
"Death is sexless, nameless and formless as it stalks every living thing relentlessly, hardly the sort of thing to make a comic spectacle of. That said, if death had to pick a sex, and if that sex was female, she wouldn’t be beautiful and spilling out of her top like a harlot on display. No, if death was female, she would be the tumor queen. Dangling over the precipice and reaching out with strong, greedy hands taking you with her as she slips over the cliff. The wrinkles and excesses of old age would hang about her like raiment’s, studded with precious stones and gilded metal, anything to entice the very greedy or the very stupid. Most of all she would do her level best to mask her decay. Lilacs and rose water, anything to cover the smell of moldy growth along the areas she could no longer reach to sponge with her talons."