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Oh, ‹namn›. . .the flowers are blooming in Hillsbrad and the air is so fresh and brisk. I can't help but to wallow in the misery of it all. I look out my grimy window and long for the day when our New Plague brings this world the death it deserves.
As much as I would love to sit and brood all day, my duty to the Dark Lady calls. Help me, would you? My research leads me to believe I can make the most splendid death-brew with the blood of a Mountain Lion. Bring some to me and we'll have a little fun.
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I remember you, ‹namn›. You were going to help me out in concocting my latest elixir. I'll need that blood before I can bring my own special brand of misery to the inhabitants of Hillsbrad.
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Superb collecting, ‹namn›.