Black Gemstone

As you pick up the stone, it shines in your hand. You look into the darkness of the gem, you lose yourself for a moment. A single swirl of black smoke comes out, the gemstone sings to you another riddle: "Winds that whisper the final breath, Hands that grasp in cold of death. He who walks where spirits weep, Once sealed, now rising from his sleep. A master of the veil unseen, A king of souls, cruel and keen."