Luneshale Pass fear the reaper

It was Disa's turn to smile, brows rising. "Many?" she translated, "That's it?" She sneered. "You're a ridiculous man that pedals poison. If someone has a hole in their soul, you fill it with tar and call it good work. You and your gardeners in arms." She stepped closer, speaking slowly so that he might catch her meaning. "You are bad. Your work is bad. I don't like it."