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"Why do you call yourself Godric? Is that your true name?"

"No, my true name is long and forgotten ancient history. But 'Godric'... I'll tell you why: I am Death. I am a god. When you call me 'Godric,' you must in some capacity acknowledge me as a 'god'. 'God-ric'. Every time it is said, I feel like I am being worshipped. I feel powerful, invincible. I feel...like a macabre god. Why do you ask? Have you decided upon a name yet?"

"Yes."

"What shall the world call you, my child?"

"Eric."

"And why 'Eric'?"

"Because it is close to 'Godric'."

"But not too close."

"That is because I am not a god, and if I get too close to one I will burn."

"How quaint. So tell me, Eric: what is it you wish to do now?"

"I wish to hunt."

"Then hunt we shall. Come along, Eric. I know a place where the prey are practically begging to be slaughtered, so fat and delectable are they. Come. Come along, child, while the night is still young."