It's been a while since you visited, but it really couldn't be helped. Write about being able to catch up to someone you haven't met with for a long time. Whether it be a friend, enemy or family, it can be anyone.

Skulker whistled softly as he walked down the hallway, his steps silently landing on the stone tiles of the castle. Carefully sidestepping some rubble, he glimpses through a hole in the wall, taking in the ruins of the once proud kingdom of Luxmort. "Ah... the lingering scent of rotting flesh and brimstone still fill the air." It had been some number of years since the kingdom had fallen into madness in a civil war. He continued on, taking a deep breath, letting it fill his systems. "Lovely in its despair, like the last words of a loved one." He turns down a corridor, spotting a corpse of a soldier, still in his armor. Skulker nudges it lightly with his foot, to no response, and he continues on his way.

A few turns later, and he finds himself in the throne room, a veranda overlooking the kingdom to his right. He drifts to it slowly, taking his time, knowing what he'll find already. As the Keeper of the Dead, Skulker's job was to collect the souls of those who were ready, as well as be present at areas where a large number of deaths will soon take place. For some time, he'd been working on Luxmort. So many souls to collect, so many regrets they have. Often, they'd beg him to spare them their ill fates. He tuned out such pleas; if one knew they'd wronged enough to suffer, then why bother asking to be forgiven of it when your body and spirit were no longer one? But in the many years he'd been collecting the souls from the rotting corpses of these ruins, one lingered. The old king, who even now, still clung to his guilt like a child clings to their mother's teat.

"Hello again," Skulker said. "It's been a while." The king's lifeless corpse did nothing, said nothing. "Are we really playing this game? I understand that you can wait here all you like, but I'm starting to get tired of these visits."

After a few moments, a pale, ethereal mist flows from the lips of the corpse, and the spirit of the former king takes shape, hovering above himself, chin in his hand. "I'd much prefer you leave me be, Child of Shadows. I've come to accept this limbo as my punishment."

Skulker scratches at his hair a bit, clearly annoyed that things are progressing this way. "You see, that is the problem. You decided this was your punishment. However, you don't exactly have that authority. Former king or not, your power died alongside you. You're in my domain now, and I've been cordial enough letting you have this much time."

The Disgraced King turns to Skulker, a tired, angry look in his eye. "God or not, I don't believe I should follow a child's command. Leave me be, and tend to others. I simply wish to be alone with what remains of my kingdom."

Skulker's eyes flash. "A child? I could accept your little pity party for a few decades, but mortal, you have the audacity to insult me?" Skulker raises his hand, and the Disgraced King's form begins to turn red, and lose definition. At first, he seems unaware of the change. After a moment, however, he begins to moan in pain.

"What is happening? Explain what it is you're doing to me!"

"Still arrogant, eh?" Skulker's hand raises further, and the red color turns a deep crimson, the Disgraced King's moans turning to screams. "I am the Keeper of the Dead, and what many don't understand about the dead is that they're not above pain. Your time in the land of the living is up."

Quote from Azure Kite

Skulker whistled softly as he walked down the hallway, his steps silently landing on the stone tiles of the castle. Carefully sidestepping some rubble, he glimpses through a hole in the wall, taking in the ruins of the once proud kingdom of Luxmort. "Ah... the lingering scent of rotting flesh and brimstone still fill the air." It had been some number of years since the kingdom had fallen into madness in a civil war. He continued on, taking a deep breath, letting it fill his systems. "Lovely in its despair, like the last words of a loved one." He turns down a corridor, spotting a corpse of a soldier, still in his armor. Skulker nudges it lightly with his foot, to no response, and he continues on his way.

A few turns later, and he finds himself in the throne room, a veranda overlooking the kingdom to his right. He drifts to it slowly, taking his time, knowing what he'll find already. As the Keeper of the Dead, Skulker's job was to collect the souls of those who were ready, as well as be present at areas where a large number of deaths will soon take place. For some time, he'd been working on Luxmort. So many souls to collect, so many regrets they have. Often, they'd beg him to spare them their ill fates. He tuned out such pleas; if one knew they'd wronged enough to suffer, then why bother asking to be forgiven of it when your body and spirit were no longer one? But in the many years he'd been collecting the souls from the rotting corpses of these ruins, one lingered. The old king, who even now, still clung to his guilt like a child clings to their mother's teat.

All I can really say here is that the dialogue here (in bold) would stand out a bit more if it was brought down to the very end of this section. Melding it into the exposition is by no means a bad way to tell a story, but when you're introducing a guy like Skulker, it doesn't hurt to build up the hype a little before you have him start talking.

Quote from Azure Kite

"Hello again," Skulker said. "It's been a while." The king's lifeless corpse did nothing, said nothing. "Are we really playing this game? I understand that you can wait here all you like, but I'm starting to get tired of these visits."

Call it personal preference, but I tend to go with the phrase 'tire' rather than 'get tired' when the setting is even remotely medieval. I suppose one could say it keeps my fingers from tiring.

Quote from Azure Kite

After a few moments, a pale, ethereal mist flows from the lips of the corpse, and the spirit of the former king takes shape, hovering above himself, chin in his hand. "I'd much prefer you leave me be, Child of Shadows. I've come to accept this limbo as my punishment."

Skulker scratches at his hair a bit, clearly annoyed that things are progressing this way. "You see, that is the problem. You decided this was your punishment. However, you don't exactly have that authority. Former king or not, your power died alongside you. You're in my domain now, and I've been cordial enough letting you have this much time."

The Disgraced King turns to Skulker, a tired, angry look in his eye. "God or not, I don't believe I should follow a child's command. Leave me be, and tend to others. I simply wish to be alone with what remains of my kingdom."

Skulker's eyes flash. "A child? I could accept your little pity party for a few decades, but mortal, you have the audacity to insult me?" Skulker raises his hand, and the Disgraced King's form begins to turn red, and lose definition. At first, he seems unaware of the change. After a moment, however, he begins to moan in pain.

"What is happening? Explain what it is you're doing to me!"

"Still arrogant, eh?" Skulker's hand raises further, and the red color turns a deep crimson, the Disgraced King's moans turning to screams. "I am the Keeper of the Dead, and what many don't understand about the dead is that they're not above pain. Your time in the land of the living is up."

Well that was beautiful. Good work, mate.

Quote from Azure Kite

Sorry to leave it at a bit of a cliffhanger, but I didn't really plan to do much more with Luxmort and it's king anyways, aside from have him suffer a while longer before being forcibly sucked down to what is essentially Hell, and that begins to bleed the story away from the main topic.

And yeah, I suppose it would, wouldn't it?