No creature broods with black evil as does Saator, and no other creatures does he despise more than the pathetic race of humanity. His malice is bottomless, his hatred a deathly palor that glows black upon his rank and leprous hide He could destroy humanity if he wished. But Saator is far too subtle, and far too cruel, to merely slay mankind. That would he too easy! too unsatisfying! Saator knows that there are terrors worse than death, horrors more profound than the maw of oblivion, agony a thousand times more intense than the death rattle. No - instead he delights in the corruption of man, pleasures in the dance of death; in the war and hatred and cruelty that he seeds in humanity. These are emotions lie knows well; emotions that could be read in his gleaming yellow eyes were there a creature that dare look. But few living creatures could survive the stare of hatred in that face, or breathe the exhaled air of corruption that issues from that foul muzzle. A few that tried would be lucky enough to die. More likely they would themselves become twisted with bitterness, turned upon their own race and driven insane with lust for death and carnage.