Death.

The Defeater of Empires, The End of Hope, The Surcease of Pain.
Death is a seven foot tall well polished skeleton who wears a robe, apparantly woven with absolute darkness and carries a scythe. His scythe is just like any other, but the blade is so sharp you can see through it. His eyes are hollows but when looked at closely contain limpid pools of blue. He can only be seen by cats, wizards and witches and those who are dead or dying and his voice is not heard but felt and ALWAYS APPEARS IN CAPITALS. Throughout his career he has joined The Klatchian Foreign Legion, tried extremely hard to get drunk and released thousands of souls.