Raven landed on the altar, eyeing the gold coins. He ruffled his feathers, transforming into a weeping old man. Shapeshift Guise.
"Oh, Holy Mother," Raven croaked. "I am but a poor soul looking for... shiny things."
Santa Muerte stood motionless, her skeletal face shrouded in a veil. She did not blink. She held her scythe.
The Last Bargain
Raven switched tactics. He sang a Song of Misdirection, a melody that usually made gods forget their names. He grabbed a coin.
"I'll take this, and in exchange, I give you..." Raven looked around. "This nice pebble?"
Santa Muerte moved. It was the sound of a closing book. Pact of Equal Exchange.
"Accepted," her voice whispered in the cold air.
Raven froze. The coin burned his hand.
"The pebble is the deposit," Santa Muerte continued. "The remainder is your breath."
Raven tried to fly, to turn into light, but he was bound by the contract he had jokingly struck. The Scythe of Final Accounting didn't need to swing; the debt collected itself.
Raven fell from the altar, a lifeless bird of black feathers.