Lividity was born with no use for the gods. For her it was all to live and die with as little dealing with them as possible.She made a life investigating crimes for the Startangrad City Guard, sometimes monitoring religious actors, making sure they weren't establishing anything in the city that might count as a Temple. This was how she met her Harold, a priest of Tiffany running a garden in the city, medicinal herbs.He barley spoke of his goddess but he radiated her, he was pure light, offering cures, prorating payment for the poor, always, laughing, always dancing. He was everything she was not and she clung to all of it, and for her he was life itself. Until he died. Random thing, the guard said. Couple of ner do wells looking to get high, didn't understand that the fungus he was clutching to himself was to make a medicine that would cure an infected child down by the docks and not propel them into new heights of consciousness. That was the night she first prayed. She prayed to Death itself and he appeared. She'd heard of his shifting nature but his face has always remained in her mind since the night The Man showed up to say sorry, he'd already offered this one to go back for just a little favor. A small favor, he said, to stay here with Lividity a little longer, but he said Hells no. He was off to the Bosom of his goddess and had no need for dark trades. Lividity could not imagine the world without him in it, and so she struck a deal. She would serve if he was brought back. She would serve as long as she could stand just to know the world still had him in it, even though he'd hate her for it. And so she became what she is, bound to the power of the gates themselves. Instinct: To fufill her duty and die

• Create and Move between shadow
• Divine information by casting rituals to speak with the dead