The Lore of Shaded Spectre Alatar of the Fatal Forever
Alatar hates cow. As in, he REALLY hates them. His eternal hatred of all things bovine circles back to his day of death, when he was enjoying a nice medium-rare steak at the finest restaurant in the Citadel, choked on it, and died. Returning to the planes as a shade spectre, he now makes it his life's mission to eradicate every last Canaanite from the Forgotten Runes, until history itself forgets the word "moo." At first, his quest for vengeance consisted of nothing more insidious than visiting numerous cow pastures and tipping over the cattle with a levitate spell, but as his undead heart grew blacker and more demonic, so too did his anti-bovine ambitions become increasingly malevolent.
He found his calling one day while eating a veggie burger and watching "Real Housewives of Goblin Town" when an ad came on the telly that went something like "Love potions? Hate cows? Inquire here for a job opportunity of a lifetime!" Curious, Alatar dialed the number, and the very next day found himself interviewing for an entry level position at Big Potion Megacorp. The interview went swimmingly well and he was hired the following day (apparently they scored applicants on a 666 point scale and he already got 500 points just for being an evil forgotten soul...he found out later Big Potion was legally challenged for discriminatory hiring practices in multiple class-action lawsuits in the past, but always successfully defended their process as "affirmative action"). Alatar was a powerful wizard, a ruthless corporate shark, and a highly skilled office gossip, so naturally he rose quickly up the ranks, working his way up from the mail room to eventually becoming a senior partner of Big Potion Megacorp.
These days, Alatar spends his days micromanaging all the various minions and henchmen in his department, cackling maniacally, taste-testing new potion flavors, and dreaming up imaginative new ways to unleash a genocidal campaign against the Canaanite population. He especially despises the Milk Guild, and keeps a little black book with the names of every single member of that guild in his corner office desk drawer. Whenever he is having a particularly pleasant day (how disgusting), he would take out that book and read the names until his black husk of a heart boils over with blind, seething rage again. Also he's trying to invent a new zero calorie diet health potion (chock full of a carcinogenic sugar substitute of course) which he is hoping to unleash upon the unsuspecting denizens of the Runiverse in the next fiscal quarter.
Entered by: 0x3e17…7e9e and preserved on chain (see transaction)
