***Here's a taste of Drakar
Souls. That is what I deal in. I do not care for the joys of Midterra, that land pathetic humans call Earth. They walk about, day in, day out, damning their enemies to hell. In turn, their enemies damn them to hell right back. Personally, I don't discriminate. All of you are welcome to fill my darkest pits. Especially, if you work for the Other Side.
Don't make me puke with your self-righteousness.
I'm sure I can make a deal with you, too. How else do you think I have a legion of Harvestors doing my bidding, sending my hellhounds to round up souls? Most of them were you. Just. Like. You. I see you, sitting perfectly unaware of how close you are to my grasp. Don't worry, I won't have to come to you. You'll come to me, Drakar of the Underworld. The most resistant ones always do. They turn out to be my best Harvestors, just like Basil.
Anybody else fell like punching Drakar in the face? Or is it just me?