Slumped up against a tattered suitcase is a Wayward Haint* (ghost) of a grizzled man in striped clothing with a ball and chain around his left ankle. His stomach grumbles with a loud, rumbling gurgle as he lets out weary groans, his face scrunched with hunger pangs.

When encountered, he is distracted by his hunger and dreamily lists off food that would be so delicious to eat. When pressed, he says that he was executed before getting the last meal of steak and eggs he was promised, and it’s all he’s been able to think about since. 

Really open to accents. Kinda looking for an old cartoony mafia member but im open. 

Might be another line or two but I think this is it for this guy.