|“||Know me and fear me. My embrace is for all and is patient but sure. The dead can always find you. My hand is everywhere - there is no door I cannot pass, nor guardian who can withstand me.||„|
|~ Myrkull's Dogma|
Myrkul had a cold, malignant intelligence, and spoke in a high whisper. He was always alert, never slept, and was never surprised. He was never known to lose his temper or be anything other than coldly amused when a mortal succeeded in avoiding his directives or chosen fates. His influence in Faerûn was imposed through fear, and he was a master of making mortals terrified of him through his words and deeds. At times, just to remain unpredictable, he seemed almost kind and caring. His cowled skull head was known in nightmares all over Faerûn, and he was the one deity that almost all human mortals could picture clearly. Myrkul took care that all mortals thought of him often - he was even known to materialize beside open graves, scythe in his hands, just to gaze around at gathering mourners for a few silent seconds before fading away, in order to remind everyone that he was waiting for them all.