Hakkar waddled around the Portal construction site, his bloated body swaying. Life had been good for him lately. The arrival of the Mo'arg had helped him greatly. In a few more days, all the Portals would be complete, and Burning Legion troops would be able to descend upon Azeroth in an endless stream. The felhounds at his side seemed to sense their master's good mood as well, happily darting around him.
"You're happy too, aren't you? Fine, let's head back. I'll reward you with fresh meat." Hakkar made his way back in satisfaction, occasionally teasing his underlings along the way. What he did not know was that his time was running out.
"What's going on?! Why hasn't the meat been delivered yet?! Are they all dead? Damn it!" Hakkar returned to his den, only to find it empty—not a single person in sight. This place was usually bustling. What was happening today? Just as his mind turned to mush and his stomach burned with rage, a voice rang out.
"Are you confused?"
"Who?! Who said that?" Hakkar warily scanned his surroundings. No one was there. No! I definitely heard it.
"Stop looking. The moment you see me, you'll die. Cherish what little time you have left." The voice sounded again, still calm and unhurried.
"Come out! My darlings, devour every enemy before you!" Hakkar was no fool. He had plenty of combat experience. He immediately swung his whip and summoned his underlings for battle—but not a single felhound appeared!
"Strange, isn't it? Actually, it isn't. I've cut off all magical transmissions within this space. Unless your magic can completely overwhelm mine, you won't be able to summon even one underling."
"Who are you, really? If you're a hero, stop hiding like a coward!" Hakkar spun in place, cracking his whip