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Five Reasons To Go Off Your Rocker


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#1 Laufey

Posted 10 January 2005 - 06:03 PM

Five Reasons To Go Off Your Rocker

It seemed it was going to be one of those days. Amelyssan the Blackhearted, aka Melisssan, High Priestess of Bhaal, Dead Lord of Murder (and soon to be goddess of Murder herself), was usually quite pleased with her life. She pretty much had it all, after all. Wealth, immense power, a wardrobe to kill for (and she had killed for it, the proprietor of ‘KinKy Klothes’ of Ust Natha had deserved his lingering fate for refusing to accept the price she offered.) Beauty, intelligence, dazzling wit, a charisma powerful enough to make people turn whenever she raised her voice, minions doing her every bidding, a perfect plan for stealing a Bhaalspawn soul…yes, life was good. Normally, that was.

This was supposed to have been her quiet day off, her much needed time of relaxation. Today, she wouldn’t be running around stinking Saradush sucking up to stupid sheep-like Bhaalspawn. Today, she wouldn’t have to comb her hair if she didn’t want to. Or wear a stupid dress. Melissan really hated dresses, they didn’t show off her legs enough, they restricted her movement, and no matter how she tried, they looked very odd if she tried to decorate them with feathers. Or spikes. And she couldn’t wear her favorite accessory, the Spear Of Really Sharp Hurtfulness with them either, at least not without people looking at her oddly.

So, she had really looked forward to this day off. She had meant to take it really nice and easy, doing only Lightweight Evil. Maybe poison a well or two…or kick some puppies. How I hate them! With their fluffy fur and their wet noses and their stupid yapping! Die puppies, DIE! Melissan took a deep breath, forcing her temper down. It would not do to lose it now, not in the middle of the board meeting. The board meeting that her incompetent underlings had insisted upon, but that she was regretfully forced to carry out, since she didn’t want them to figure out how she really felt about them.

Melissan took a seat at the head of the long, black table that dominated the meeting-room. It was a very impressive table. For one thing, it had spikes on it. And feathers too, growing out of the surface. Can’t go wrong with feathers. Feathers are Evil. She straightened the feathered headdress on top of her wild red locks, musing as she did so that she really ought to go on another Avariel hunt soon, before her favorite hat started to look scruffy. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, musing on the vast inadequacy of that phrase even as she spoke it, “the meeting is opened. Balthazar, I want you to be secretary again.”

“I do only what I choose too, Melissan,” the infuriating monk said, actually daring to sneer at her. “And I do no wish to waste my skills on mere paperwork. I am a manager, not a secretary.”

“Yaga-Shura happy write! Why not Melissan want let Yaga-Shura write?”

“Because,” Melissan said, her voice frosty as she glared at the huge fire-giant who was even now rapidly munching his way through a roast ox, “The one and only time I let you do that you set fire to the paper.”

“Yaga-Shura not do that again, Yaga-Shura be real clever! Even got own die-ary now, write lots stuff down. Want to hear? Yesterday, Yaga-Shura wrote real good stuff about blood and guts.”

“No,” Melissan said between clenched teeth. “And stop speaking of yourself in the third person, it’s extremely annoying.”

“What third person? Yaga-Shura be only one, but very BIG ONE! HA HA HA!”

Melissan’s spiked and clawed gloves dug deep furrows into the meeting-table. “Balthazar,” she said, making her voice as sweet as she could. “You will write the minutes down, or I will inform the local authorities that you are making tax deductions for the feeding and clothing of neophytes who are, in fact, sheep.”

Illasera, the raven-haired huntress, smirked at this, a smile as sharp and vicious as the flight of one of her arrows. She leaned back on her chair, prominently displaying her lithe body in its glittering green chainmail. “Monks,” she said, in her drawling, sultry voice. “Can’t say that I’m surprised. Ever bring one of those little fluffy things into your cell to do some intimate ‘meditation’, Baldy?”

“Do not call me Baldy, you disgusting woman! My name is Balthazar. And I would never do such a thing!”

“Your loss,” said Sendai, and there was a wicked glitter in her deep red eyes. The drow priestess was clearly enjoying herself as much as Illasera was. She twined a lock of her white hair around her fingers and then sipped some mineral water out of one of the bottles Melissan had provided. She was using a straw, and the way she sucked on it was very…enthusiastic. “Since you clearly are unfit to be the sexual partner of any two-legged being, they would have been your only chance not to die a virgin, Blubber-zar.”

“My name is Balthazar! And I am not a virgin!”

“No? What did you use, an Inflatable Drizzt Dummy?”

“WILL THE LOT OF YOU SHUT UP?” Abazigal growled, his deep voice practically making the walls of the meeting room tremble. The enormous blue dragon had, for some reason known only to himself, chosen to attend this meeting in his normal form, rather than the humanoid one he normally used, and his head came dangerously close to bumping into the ceiling. “I WILL HANDLE THE MINUTES, SO WE CAN GET STARTED.”

For a few seconds Melissan thought about questioning the wisdom of this, since the dragon’s huge claws were hardly suited for the delicate task of managing a quill, but then she gave in. At least he had volunteered. How I will enjoy seeing them all dead when their usefulness runs out. “Very well,” she said. “And now, let us proceed. You all said you had extremely urgent issues to discuss, that couldn’t possibly wait. So, who will begin? Illasera, how about you?”

“Sure thing,” Illasera said. “See, the thing is, I’m bored!”

“Bored. You interrupted my free time because you were bored?”

“I haven’t gotten to assassinate any Bhaalspawn in ages!” Illasera complained, pouting prettily. “Can’t you let me go after those feeble ninnies you’ve got cooped up in Saradush? I want a challenge!”

“Oh, I think I can arrange that,” Melissan said, and now she was smiling. “I have this very special assignment for you, coming up really soon in the woods around Suldanesselar.”

“Will it be a challenge?”

“It will be a challenge.” And I will be happy to be rid of you in case that half-elf manages to beat you, you arrogant little wench. Time to do some downsizing around here anyway.

“Oh, good!” Illasera said, bouncing to her feet. “You’re the best, Melissan, even if you have awful taste in clothes…see you when I get back!” She headed out the door, whistling happily.

If the half-elf doesn’t kill her, I’ll do it myself, and happily. “Shall we move on?” Melissan asked, and now it was getting to be a real effort maintaining her sweet voice. “Yaga-Shura, how about you?”

“Yaga-Shura be mightiest of all the Five! Yaga-Shura be big general! Yaga-Shura thinks it only fair to be shown to be the greatest!”

“Look,” Melissan said, “we’ve been over all of this before. Your action-figure will be manufactured in just the same way as those of the other Five, once the Throne of Bhaal is taken. I will not make it life-sized!”

“But Yaga-Shura is big giant, teensy weensy dollies not be for him.”

Keep your temper. You need these idiots for a while longer. Do not destroy them. Not just yet.

“Don’t you think you’ll have more important things to do once we’ve taken the Throne than to play with dollies?” Sendai incredulously asked.

“No. Yaga-Shura likes dollies.”

Why didn’t I pick Gromnir instead? That half-orc couldn’t possibly be more stupid or annoying than this? “You will get the doll we decided upon before,” Melissan said, and now her smile was more or less a grimace. “I already obliged you by adding a removable heart, so don’t press your luck.”

“Yaga-Shura would also really like his dolly to shoot fireballs…”

“I said no. Sendai, what did you want to discuss?”

“Well,” the drow said, “there is the matter of my accommodations. My Evil Enclave, if you will.”

Melissan could hardly believe her ears at this. “What’s wrong with them? I included every possible bit of drown luxury, you know that, complete with slaves and disposable minions. I even bought you a Drizzt look-a-like to torture!”

“Yes,” Sendai said, “but I don’t like that there seems to be so many possible points of access. If an intruder should get in, I may have problems rooting them out.”

Now this was a bit of a problem. Can’t very well let her know that I mean to send a certain Bhaalspawn down into her lair like a weasel after a fat rabbit. “They…are fire exits!” Melissan rapidly said, hoping she sounded convincing. Of course I do. I’m a wonderful actress, after all. “New safety regulations, absolutely mandatory for Evil Lairs everywhere. Sorry, but my hands are tied, or the Evil Henchman Union might come down on me for making you work in an unsafe workplace.”

“I’m not a henchman!” Sendai angrily protested. “I’m going to be a goddess! Well, at least a part-goddess.”

”Of course, dear. Only a formality, really. But nevertheless, the exits and extra tunnels have to stay. Send some random drow and spiders down there, why don’t you?” Not that that will be enough to stop my ‘weasel’ once the time comes.

“Hmmmm…” Sendai said, looking suspicious. “I suppose so…”

“Good. Now, Abazigal, what about you?”

“I WANT TO KILL DRAGONS.”

Melissan sighed. There’s always something, isn’t there? Honestly they’re like children sometimes…and Bhaal is their father…and I am sort of their mother…I AM A SINGLE MOTHER OF FIVE! NOOOOOOO! With some effort, she managed to stop the violent spasm in her right eyelid. “Yes?” she said.

“THEY’RE MEAN TO ME ‘COS I’M NOT A FULL DRAGON.”

Why me? “Well, you just tell them that your Daddy can beat their Daddy up. Or he could, if he was alive. Failing that, by all means kill them if you must. Why do you need to inform me of this?”

“AREN’T ANY DRAGONS AROUND ANY MORE. THEY’VE ALL GONE AWAY RATHER THAN PLAY WITH ME. ONLY DRACONIS IS LEFT, AND HE ONLY STAYS BECAUSE HE’S FAMILY.”

Baltazar pursed his lips. “I have an idea,” he said. “Why don’t you get in touch with a newssheet, put in an advert there? ‘Single Blue Dragon looking for Significant Other to maim and destroy, how about that?”

“YOU THINK THAT WOULD WORK?” Abazigal said, eagerly licking his snout.

“It might,” Sendai said. “Put in something about how you enjoy quiet evenings at home, long flights and lying about on your horde. Oh, and mention how big your horde is, but in a discreet way. Maybe something about how it’s so big that you haven’t felt the floor of your bedchamber in a few hundred years.”

“OH, GOOD IDEA, FOR A FEEBLE NON-DRAGON! THANK YOU. ER…DO YOU THINK IT WOULD WORK IF I SIGNED IT ‘BLUE STUDMUFFIN’?”

I’m listening to a dragon composing a ‘lonely hearts’ advertisement. Melissan ran her clawed gauntlets through her hair, making it even more frizzled than before. “Moving on!” she said, in a bright, brittle voice. “Balthazar…what extremely urgent problem do you have to bring to my attention, hmmmm?”

Balthazar cleared his throat, then rubbed his bald head as if to make it shine even more than normally. I hate it when he does that! HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE!

“Well,” the monk said, “I certainly don’t have some frivolous personal reason like the rest of these cretins! I have done some serious work over the past few weeks, you know. Something that every good organization needs.”

Melissan’s heart filled with dread. He couldn’t mean…could he? Please Great Bhaal, tell me he didn’t spend eight weeks on my paycheck writing a…

“It’s a Mission Statement!” Balthazar proudly proclaimed, confirming her worst fears, and he held up a scroll covered with elegant calligraphy. “Now we can finally stand united, and be truly efficient, wasting no time in bringing our ultimate goals about.” He cleared his throat again.

“Evil will gather,
Five Siblings stand United,
Bald is beautiful.”


He then beamed eagerly at her, awaiting her reaction. He didn’t have to wait long either. “YAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGHHHHHH!” Melissan screeched, and the claws on her gloves cleaved the board-room table in two as she hit it. “You…you…you INCOMPETENT WASTERS OF TIME! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT, ALL OF YOU! NOOOOOWWWWWW!”

As they hastily filed out of the room, Melissan collapsed across the remnants of her lovely table, panting heavily as she tried to keep herself from charging after her useless underlings and destroying them all. The last thing she could hear was Balthazar’s muffled comment to Sendai. “Brilliant woman…but such a temper. I cannot imagine why she keeps flying into these rages, I really can’t…”
Rogues do it from behind.




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