"Unless you rather have him wandering around the temple purposelessly and moaning," Donovan offered as an alternative, though knowing Fate preferred ones as important as this delivered rather than left to wander. "I really do dislike ghosts," he repeated, keeping an eye on the priest to make sure he didn't suddenly find reason to get himself lost when Donovan wasn't in any position to chase after.
"Do you need a resume? My appointment book?" Donovan sighed, going through his robe pockets. "Listen, it's not like I'm required to carry identification," Donovan sounded almost petulant that he was being doubted, glad none of the other Deaths were around to watch some special pet of Fate's put him in his place.
Finding a small black book, Donovan tossed it outside the circle to the cleric without any warning. The pages were human flesh, each with immaculately tiny script listing out dates and names of victims from earlier that month until the end, a bookmark setting the page in the middle of the book to that day. His progress was marked with a tiny x by each spirit collected. "Careful with that," he warned, "I lost my last and you have no idea how testy Fate," and Donovan paused to do a respectful gesture and whispered prayer, "can be."