Drakea

## Description

One of the authors of the Dungeon Anarchist's Cookbook, he was a crawler in a Naga-controlled season. He had a magic-based trap class, and had an elaborate scheme that was sabotaged by the show resulting in his death. It was the last season that the Naga ran the show, and Drakea was partially responsible for bankrupting them. He has the most entries in the cookbook, with many of them rambling and filled with hatred for the Naga. He wrote little about himself.

He died on either the 11th or 12th floor when one of his traps exploded after being sabotaged by the naga, after his death the syndicate sued The Blood Sultanate and they filed for bankruptcy shortly afterwards.

## Cookbook Entries

The saferoom restrooms ate a good place to read. Just don't take too long or you'll get pinched. The rats say there's a Syndicate rule that they can't watch you in the bathroom stalls. This is just for the actual toilets, not the rest of the bathrooms. Dunno if it's true. Those Naga bastards are a suspicious lot, and I fear I may soon be discovered. (Chapter 8, Book 3)

Once lit, a fire is easier to stoke than extinguish. Remember that. Fuck the snakes. Fuck the rats. Fuck them all. One day they will all burn, and while I'm certain I will be long dead, I will laugh. I will laugh long and hard, and I will be waiting for them on the other side of the veil where not even the vast expanse of stars or time will withhold my wrath. If you are reading this, friend, I pray you will join me. Side by side we will exact our revenge. (Chapter 13, Book 3)

We found one of them and tied him to the front of our shield. Ha. The next day the Nagas patched it. Didn't make an announcement or anything, but the guy disappeared. Went back to the church to grab him again, and wouldn't let us take him from the building. We dragged him out the door, and he exploded and was reborn, Tried it five times before giving up. Turns out he knew the password to the safe that held the key for the stairwell chamber. (Chapter 26, Book 3)

The hunters avoid the elites. They are smart enough to know not to fight against something they won't be allowed to easily defeat. The problem for us is elites are more dangerous than the hunters, and much more numerous. They should always be avoided. However, it appears some of the more powerful hunters go out of their way to hunt these elites anyway, all in a quest to gain more equipment and clout for themselves. It is a most dangerous game, one I am happy to watch play out. I am not yet powerful enough to kill either elite or hunter claw-to-claw, but with my new subclass, I am experimenting with hidden traps that may even the odds. I shall attempt not to directly slay either, but to bring hunter and elite together. The woman from the talk show let slip that the naga fools have offered insurance to those idiotic dramas that control the elite beasts. It will be my pleasure to watch the elites fail and die. While killing a hunter directly is a worthy feat, it is not a smart one. Killing individuals may be satisfying, but the true satisfaction is hurting them on a larger scale. When one values coin above life, you should target the coin, for it hurts them more. And that is my food. My life. My god. Hurting the naga and everyone responsible for this nightmare. (Chapter 24, Book 5)

This is Volteeg's first, last, and only entry in the cookbook. Fuck everything about this place. (Chapter 47, Book 5)

This was Ikicha's last entry. It took me awhile to understand what our brother truly meant when he posted this. Now that I know, I, too, struggle with the knowledge. Gone is gone. Dead is dead, and anything presented to you in any other matter is nothing but a cruel, sadistic tease. We are on a fabricated stage surrounded by puppets built by the enemy. Do not ever forget this. Even if I succeed. Even if I survive to this fabled 18th floor and emerge victorious, I hold no cursed faith for those who have been lost, and I suggest you do not, either. But that doesn't mean we still can't have hope. I dream of a fire that spreads across the sky like the Winter Nebula. A fire that reaches the beginning and the end, and even though this fire exists only in my mind - for now - the warmth of it is enough to sustain me, even on the coldest of nights. For you, Ikicha. (Chapter 52, Book 5)

This was Everly's last entry. She did not mention the manner in which she was set up, which is unfortunate. Please, future author. Be as detailed as you can. (Chapter 64, Book 5)

Ever since I hit the tenth floor, I've noticed a peculiarity in some of the mobs. It is difficult to put into words, but it is like they are embracing death more and more. It's not that they are willing to fall upon my traps, but there is a strange... Joy? Curiosity? that only appears at the very end, when they know they have been beaten. But there's more. There's frustration, too. I must admit, it scares me. I know this will sound unhinged, and maybe I am indeed the one who has lost their mind, but I can't stop thinking about it. The voice that runs this world has been getting stranger and stranger in its words and rulings. I believe it is moving into the minds of these monsters, taking them over, but just at the point of death. It's as if it's desperately attempting to know what it's like to lose it all. But it keeps failing, so it keeps trying. It's frustration grows. If only I could convince it to move into the minds of one of these nagas. (Chapter 42, Book 6)

If you get the chance, don't hesitate. Not for one second. (Chapter 50, Book 6)

This is Priestly's second-to-last entry. Do yourself a favor. Don't read the last one. He doesn't make it to the battle once he sees what has happened to Larracos, and that's all you really need to know. Fuck them all. (Chapter 54, Book 6)