As a warlock, I had always been drawn to the dark arts. And when I stumbled upon a powerful demon in the depths of the Netherworld, I knew I had to make a pact with it.

The demon, whose name was Xarathos, was a formidable being, with skin as black as pitch and eyes that burned with an otherworldly fire. But despite its fearsome appearance, Xarathos was willing to make a deal with me.

In exchange for my servitude, Xarathos promised to grant me unimaginable power and knowledge. And so, I agreed to the pact, sealing it with a drop of my own blood.

From that day on, Xarathos became my most trusted ally and the only solace it received from the long and brutal war that raged within its home plane. Whenever I summoned it, Xarathos would appear before me, ready to do my bidding and offer counsel.

But as time went on, I began to realize that the power I had gained came with a heavy price. Xarathos demanded more and more of my time and energy, and I found myself making sacrifices I never would have thought possible.

Despite the consequences, I could not bring myself to break the pact with Xarathos. The demon had become a part of me, and I could not imagine life without it. So I continued to serve it, hoping that one day the war within its home plane would end and Xarathos could finally find peace.