The Secret Diary of Petronella Pious 3
20th of Mirtul
Ah, it's good to be back home, dear diary. Even though I still have to go through all the fuss of cleaning up the stuff in the suitcases. Hmm, maybe I should raise some skeletons from the local graveyard and have them clean up for me. Yes, I think I shall do that...
It was a lovely holiday! I'm glad I decided to treat us all to a little victory-treat after exterminating the Mary-Sues. There was this lovely little island which LaDuck remembered from his old pirating days, which was both cheap and big enough for all of us. So, we all hopped on LaDuck's haunted ship and set sail for the sun.
The island was lovely, though a little too green and lush with life for my tastes. There weren't enough dead trees and graveyards around to really make me feel comfortable... at least, not when I first arrived of course. *evil grin*
Anyway, we spent our days drinking cocktails, swimming in the ocean, playing beach-volleyball and all that. Hmmm, except LaDuck, everyone went for a swim. Funny, that a pirate doesn't like the water. I've always wondered what was under that beard, though. Even my disgusting butler had a bath! And Vekna, oh my, he loved to waterski. In fact, he said he was so good at it he could hold the rod in his teeth! Sadly, his teeth were the only things waterskiing a few moments later. Who ever heard of a lich with dentures anyway?
Also, there were very few other tourists on the island. Well, at least there were very few left AFTER death-Dotty had that brainy idea of temporarily freezing the ocean to take care of them. You'd be amazed how many empty rooms the inn had after that one. Enough to house all my storm-poopers!
The rest of the tourists were dealt with when the beachvolley-ball tournament started and my stormpoopers entered. Well, let's just say they kept winning because I kept zapping the other team. Heh, it was fun watching the tourists jump up into the air and land as a flurry of ashes.
There was this one paladin, but he was nabbed by a shark before he could do anything against me. Hey, I recognize talent when I see it. I immediately offered the shark a five-year contract to come work for me. He'd make an excellent moatguard. He said he wouldn't like to leave the warm climates, but he liked the pay and the prospect of free food so he said he'd think about it and let me know in a week or so.
Anyway, we had a lot of fun and a much needed break, but now, we are ready for more acts of evil, malicious cunning and senseless destruction... though I will miss the look of Edmund in bermuda-shorts. Very lust-inducing...
22nd of Mirtul
Isn't it strange that no matter how long you spend on a lovely vacation, it always takes exactly two days after you get home before it feels like you were never away? *sigh* It's a good thing I do love my work.
Our latest project was initiated by Bill the Troll. The clever little thing has come up with an evil scheme where a certain specialized Spell of Corruption is mass transmitted to Crystal Balls all over the world, blurring the visions and draining them of power. Imagine all the chaos, the frustration and the rage this will cause! Why, I imagine there will even be a few murders, particularly since he's managed to make the spell transmit sensitive information from one Crystal Ball to the next one, including that of personal visions. Serve the poor fools right for using the Looking Glass application, which is *also* one of Bills little creations. That troll gets his grubby green paws into everything...
But that's not all, Dear Diary! Bill also expects that we will earn a fortune on selling *counter-spells* to the Corruption Spells to the suffering masses! It should only be a few weeks before I'm wealthy enough to invest in that new Luxury Torture Chamber I've been dreaming about...
And now for the bad news. Mum is coming to visit next week. Yes, you read it correctly. My Mum. Mrs Pious herself. The Paladin Breeder. And she simply *refuses* to understand that I'm a grown woman, and want to live my life my own way. I dread it already. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if she brings along some frilly and lacy curtains to 'cheer things up' in my Evil Abode. Mum has *no* concept of class whatsoever. And then she'll probably ask me when I'm going to 'settle down with a nice Paladin'. Honestly, she *never* gives up, despite the fact that I set fire to the clothes of the last three 'nice Paladin boys' she tried to hook me up with, then stripped them naked, smeared them with tar and feathers and tied them to the chimney. Mum doesn't understand me at *all*, you know. She never has. Good thing Edmund's here to cheer me up. In fact I think I'll go look for him right now. Perhaps I can persuade him to wear those shorts again, he's got the nicest pair of legs...
24th of Mirtul
Dear diary, the weirdest thing happened today. Two local lovebirds, Leo and Kate, two disgustingly pure and sweet BASTA... Errr, lovers, managed to bypass my security completely! Somehow, those two idiots got past my stormpoopers, past LaDuck, past Vekna, past Bill (although that doesn't surprise me), and THROUGH MY BEDROOM to reach the highest point of my tower and lean over the railing!
"KING OF THE WORLD!" he shouted... just before, ahum, tripping and plummeting to his goey high-altitude induced demise. Ah, such a delicious scream of terror... and that image of him trying to flap his wings like a bird...
And, of course, there's a fifty foot wide and thirty foot deep moat and HE gets himself impaled on the only sharp rock jutting out of the water. His deathmask still showed his wide-eyed look of surprise he had just before his ripcage was replaced by a large rock...
The townspeople gathered around the moat to, yeeeeech, mourn the loss of their most beloved couple... since, well, Kate had gone, ahum, missing soon afterwards... Hey, even evil sorcesses like meatballs in their soup! *evil grin* Anyway, they wanted a monument to remember him by and I gave it to them. I petrified his scattered fleshy remains around the jutting rock, so A) I didn't have to clean up and
I have something to brag about in front of my evil guests. Besides, that look of surprise was too priceless to let it rot away.*sigh* Now that that's out of the way, I have to prepare for mumsy's visit in a day or two. The best thing to deal with this is to just nod and smile and confirm everything she says... *sigh* Though I should tell the flying monkeys the human sacrifices are off for a few more days... Pity...
25th of Mirtul
Dear Diary, I'm wallowing in the Pit of Despair and the Vultures of Misfortune are crapping all over me. Yes. Mum arrived today. Would you believe that she dragged *six* suitcases with her? I'm afraid to ask how long she's planning to stay, actually. 'Petronella dearest', she said. 'I don't know *how* you stand living in this dreary place. But don't you worry about a thing, you know I love fixing things up, and I saw the *prettiest* lacy pink curtains in 'Mrs Paladin Magazine' the other week. And then I'll help you throw out all the heaps of junk and trash scattered all over the floor. Honestly, this place is a *sty*!'
She'd grabbed a broom and almost managed to sweep Vekna out the window before I managed to explain that he was in fact one of my employees, and not the kitchen garbage. Then I tried to explain that I *like* my heaps. I know exactly where to find everything I need, and I *detest* pink lace. Mum smiled cheerfully throughout my entire diatribe. Then she patted me on the cheek and said she'd fix me some 'nice herbal tea to deal with my women's problems'. ARRRGHH!
Why is it that if a woman expresses any emotion other than sugary sweetness, people will try to attribute it to her uterus? I'm perfectly capable of feeling rage, fury, misery and homicidal anger all on my own, without any hormonal influence. All it takes is a visit from Mum.
And I *don't* 'pout'. Or 'sulk'. It was a disdainful sneer, *actually*. Pouting is for babies.
By Bhaal's Billions of Bastard Children, I *really* need a drink. Or preferably a dozen...
26th of Mirtul...
I... The horror... the HORROR! My tower... My home... My inner-sanctum of evils untold, my bastion of darkness! My fortress of doom... My torturedungeon of the Itch Between Your Shoulderblades Which You Can Never Quite Reach. It's all... CLEAN!
With one foul stroke (of a broom no less) my mother has rid me of most of my spell-components! It... it took MONTHS for the dust to settle and the lovely cobwebs to gather and now I must start all over again. All insects have fled from my tower and from my mother's doom-inducing broom. She has decorated my windows with pink lacey curtains! She has been buffing the helmets of my stormpoopers, she has given my butler a bath (He smells like roses, for Demogorgon's sake!), sprayed LaDuck half to life with deodorant, and, the worst of all, she even removed all the Flying Monkey guano from the top of my tower! HOW CAN SHE DO THAT! Flying Monkey Guano is the cleanest substance known to evil man!
But... as I trod through the, *gulp*, shiny hallways of my Tower and watched Death-Dottie being fitted in a blue dress with pink ribbons (and never having looked more unhappy nor more genocidal). So far, Edmund has been hiding in the secret room with Snuggles so they're in the clear for now... But my mother has a way of even uncovering the darkest of my secrets. And last visit, she even absentmindedly mentioned my teen pony-fixation... in front of the leaders of F.E.A.R... Of course, I was banned for life only seconds later... It didn't even help that I blasted half a stable to show my dedication...
But the very reason for mother's buffing and cleaning got very clear to me as soon as the doorknocker sounded... And there he was : Patrick Shiny O'Clean-Arse... In full plate, his long blonde hair blowing in the wind, his paladine smug grin from ear-to-ear and that moronic 'Who am I and what am I doing here?'-look on his face.
*sigh* She was trying to fix me up once more. Mother immediately introduced us, but during that conversation, Patrick introduced me to his squire: Percius Mercius the Arse-Cleaner. Perfect... Mumsy wants me to marry a guy who can't even clean his own bottom...
And, speaking of bad timing, guess who teleported in for a quick visit? Correct! Zilvra! Apparently, that crazy Drow had picked up some psychedelic and highly toxic mushrooms from the Underdark to make a good soup from and wanted to share with me. It's a good thing I saw her in time and managed to shove her into a closet before mumsy or Patrick saw her. A Drow in the house would have, well, brought the house down, so to speak.
I quickly worked mumsy and Patrick out of the room, before Zilvra started banging on the closetdoors... Errr, I'd better let her out before she starts casting force bolts. The next view days should be especially tiresome...
28th of Mirtul
Disaster. Horrible, devastating disaster. And it all started so promising too. But I should probably go back to the beginning. Mum invited Ser 'I'm the Holiest of the Holy' bloody Patrick over again yesterday. Then, she disappeared on us, with some feeble excuse about 'doing the dishes'. What's the point in doing dishes anyway? Normally I just let Snuggles lick them clean. Problem solved, end of story.
But anyway, there I was, alone with a Paladin possibly even more annoying than my dear unlamented brother. He immediately started telling me all about his Grand Crusade, as he called it. Apparently he meant to exterminate every single evil person in the world, leaving it safe for 'Good and Honourable' people to live in.
When I asked him if that meant he planned to kill me as well, the dolt told me that I was simply a 'misguided girl whose soul he wanted to save', and that he saw me as 'a Sad and Precious Dark Flower, yearning for the Light'. He then proceeded to tell me that he worshipped my 'Hidden Fragile Vulnerability' and that he intended to protect me against all 'cads' daring to 'defile me with their Foul Glances', preferably by smiting them. There is something *very* worrying about a man who actually *uses* the word 'smite' in casual conversation. Barking mad, I'd say.
Oh how tempting it was to gift him with a sharp kick aimed at *his* 'hidden vulnerables'. Sadly, my hands were bound. Well, not literally. But I *knew* how Mum would react. It would be a repeat performance of the scolding I got when I shaved and painted the head of the Priest of Torm she sent over to preach to me. Better to try to be subtle. So I told Patrick that I'd rather date a Bugbear.
This rebuffal didn't have much effect. He simply went on speaking about how he'd 'Smite all Wickedness'. When I asked him what he'd do afterwards, he told me that he'd move on to those people not technically evil, but not exactly good either. And then perhaps those who were somewhat good, but not as lawabiding as might be wished. 'After all, he told me, Defying Proper Authority is an Evil by itself.'
So basically what he's aiming for is a world populated solely by Paladunces. I think I'd prefer death. Particularly if survival meant becoming Prim and Proper Mrs Paladin. It's funny. I always thought mass murder was supposed to be an evil thing.
It was at this point that it happened, just as I was toying with the thought of defying Mum and directing a Horrid Wilting spell into his trouser area, making sure he'd never be able to populate the world with offspring as vile as himself. A burning portal suddenly appeared in the middle of my best Skull and Bones motif carpet, scorching it clear through. And guess who should step out but my ex-boyfriend Ronnie!
I'd almost forgotten how handsome that burning eye look is, and I was so happy for any interruption of Patrick's nauseating recital of his own Good Deeds that I quite forgot myself. With a welcoming cry of relief I threw myself into his arms and kissed Ronnie full on his black lips, temporarily ignoring that I'm still mad at him. I didn't *mean* anything by it, not really!
Unfortunately, it was at exactly this moment that my dear Edmund stepped into the room, having sneaked past Mum in order to discuss our next Secret Plans. Both the professional and the personal, and he'd even drawn up a few scrolls detailing them, all of which he dropped on the floor when he saw me in Ronnie's arms. I'll never forget the hurt look on his face.
Equally unfortunately, Mum chose the exact same moment to enter the *other* door, and saw not only me and Ronnie, but Edmund and his written plans for our ongoing partnership.
I'm sorry, I can't write more at the moment. It is as I say, a disaster. Perhaps things will look better tomorrow, but I doubt it. And I think my heart may be broken. I need to go perform a few evil curses or maybe flog somebody if I'm to be able to keep from crying. Burying yourself in work is said to be good for heartache. And there's always my private dungeon cemetery...
30th of Mirtul
End of the month... and I'm still sitting in my private dungeon cemetery. Sulking... moaning... generally feeling misable. *sighs* Oh, the skeletons are such dears and are constantly trying to cheer me up by juggling ribs, skulls and assorted rotting bodyparts of the latest burglar. Murray, the caretaker of my crypts, has even tried to prod me into conquering again with that evil little laugh of him, but, well, I can't even work up an appetite at the moment.
In all the mess, I can honestly say I am relieved on problem is solved though, and that thanks to Zilvra, two birds were killed with one stone. First of all, the paladin is out of the house and out of my hair. Gladly *grins evilly* he left here with his blonde hair dyed black and left to raid the countryside. He did have the curtousy to say goodbye, though, (as if I cared), but he mentioned the most interesting tid-bit. He mentioned that is was 'surprising how a night of wild sex with a Drow sorcesses can alter a man's vision on life', which only goes to show how sexually repressed paladins really are.
According to Zilvra, however, the whole ordeal only lasted about twenty seconds, but that doesn't really matter. Now, Zilvra is a true friend, however. When mumsy snatched my carefully scripted plan of evil action and started reading, Zilvra popped out of the closet and said the plans were hers, taking the fall for me. I thanked every evil deity I knew for not jotting down my name on the bottom, and mum accepted Zilvra's explanation readily. 'Because you are a Drow, and therefore must be evil,' mumsy said, 'I believe you, BUT you'd do yourself and the world a favor if you report to the temple of Helm for a proper hanging and/or burning session.' Nodding and saying she would do just that, Zilvra (snickering as she went) poofed herself back to the Underdark. I owe her big time... and she'll never let me forget it. I'll be sending that girl boxes of chocolate till a decade after my death...
In the meantime, there is still plenty of trouble abrewing. Edmund and Ronnie are still sitting at the kitchen table, locked into a staring-contest which has lasted two days now. And Ronnie has been using his one flaming giant eye, so I really admire Edmund's tenacity. And, mumsy, oh... she's... she's... I can't say it... I CAN'T!
She's... very disappointed in me! ARRRRGGH! Typical parental mind-game! I can handle anger! I can handle incriminations! I can handle being skewered by a barbecue-fork, but I CANNOT handle this...
I think... I'll just sit around here for a while and sulk a bit more
1st of Flamerule
Dear Diary, things are really getting out of hand. The Paladin is out of my hair, fortunately, and Mum has gone home. She is still Very Disappointed, by the way. *shudders* I'll be hearing about this every Solstice celebration for *years*, and she'll probably bring up how many hours it took to give birth to me too.
But now there's Edmund and Ronnie to deal with, and I'm worried about what might happen. The staring contest ended with a draw. Edmund eventually fell asleep from exhaustion, but at the same time Ronnie also managed to overload his Eye, and it started getting nothing but static. Poor thing had to hit himself over the head more than once before he got back to normal.
I thought it necessary to tell them both in no uncertain terms that I did *not* want them to fight things out, and that if either of them turned up dead I'd be *very* disappointed in the other one. So now they at least aren't trying to kill each other, but instead they apparently both decided to try to impress me with their Evil Deeds.
Ronnie started out with summoning what he called a 'Kara-Yucky' machine from one of the Infernal Dimensions Of Excruciating Pain. The thing emits horrible wailing noises that I *think* are meant to
be music, but the *really* bad part is having to hear Ronnie singing along to it. As a competent Evil Overlord Ronnie has many skills, but singing isn't one of them, and he knows it. Particularly since his voice has that deep and booming echo effect so popular with the more supernatural Dark Lords. So, he teleported himself and the Kara-Yucky machine into a nearby disgustingly jolly halfling village, and then started singing. His renditions of 'Your Heart Will Go On (To Become Orc Fodder), 'Circle Of Wraiths' and 'Slay The World, Make It A Wicked Place' were particularly stirring. Afterwards the halflings all lay dead, with these sort of twisted expressions of fear and pain on their little faces. I felt quite touched. I'd forgotten just how romantic Ronnie can be when he really tries.
Of course, Edmund wasn't about to let himself get outdone. He came up with a cunning plan, one targeted at children all over the world, and then proceeded to set up a demonstration. It involves having a special cart, one fitted with a bell chiming an annoyingly merry little jingle, drive around all over the countryside, selling delicious treats, particularly what Edmund calls 'Eye Scream'. Very, very tasty, particularly the chocolatey sort. Something that tastes that good *has* to be immensely evil. Everybody knows that food that's good for you is *always* revolting. But anyway, the plan is to get the children used to the goodies, so much that the very sound of that little bell will be enough to make them start drooling and come running. Then, once their little minds are thoroughly warped, it should be easy to recruit them into my Evil Ranks and train them to do my bidding.
Yes, Edmund is *such* a dear, and so thoughtful too.
Hm, now that I think about it, maybe this whole thing with Edmund and Ronnie isn't so bad after all. If I can get both of them jealous enough, I should be *swimming* in presents by the end of the week...
5th of Flamerule
Well, the gifts are, indeed pouring in, it seems!
First it was poisonous flowers... Then came the boxes of chocolates! Hmmm...
And now *rubs hands* here comes the exotic stuff! Ronnie was still in a singing mood when he brought me a happy little wailing banshee in a cage called Seline Die-Alone. She has this deliciously evil shrieking voice which can actually curdle milk! Ronnie immediately set Seline at work at the local marketplace. I never saw so many heads explode at the same time, and the scene was SOOOOO romantic! Just Ronnie and me looking at the bloodbath below. It was pure bliss... But, I wouldn't be won over so easily.
But dear Edmund wouldn't be defeated to easily. He came up with a lovely impish singer called Frink See-Snotra, crooning the same fifty year old songs over and over again in that same monotonous tone of voice. Again, we put Frink to the test. The effects were not as immediate as with Ronnie gifted Banshee, and, at first the townfolk rather liked the imp. But then, on then, the repetiveness started to take its toll... Short, extended, torturous deaths! Oh, how exciting! It made my heart skip a beat!
Right now, both Seline Die-Alone and Frink See-Snorta are facing each other in a crooning session, but so far, neither is winning. Hmmm, maybe I should try another gift Edmund so kindly provided me with. He calls it a bull-horn, and with it, all the town can hear every note of their wonderful music. *evil grin*
Sadly, another gift of Edmunds has backfired a bit. All my stormpoopers are addicted to this eye-scream-stuff! Not even telling the sprinkles on those things are made from a mix of flying monkey-guano and my butler's dandruff helps! Errgg, another crisis to solve, but that's for later concern!
Keep those gifts coming, boys!
7th of Flamerule
Well, the situation between Ronnie and Edmund finally escalated into open warfare. This morning Edmund had the Stormpoopers parading in formation all over the castle yard. When viewed from above, the troops spelled out the clear message of 'Ronnie is a Closet Deva'. This of course was a mortal insult, particularly since Ronnie does have that unfortunate history of being a member of the Forces of Good, way back when. He gets *really* upset if anybody refers to it, and Edmund hinting that he may also have had a secret affair with Elminster didn't help. Poor Ronnie. I'm sure he wouldn't have *that* bad taste.
Anyway, Ronnie immediately challenged Edmund to a duel to the death. He brought in one of his Balrogs for a second, and Edmund decided to use Bill the Troll. I must admit I was a bit concerned,
seeing that Edmund is mortal and Ronnie is a Terrible Force of Darkest Evil, but it turned out that my fears were unfounded. Ronnie started out summoning a terrible Demon Prince. From what I heard he was going for Demogorgon himself. However, in the meantime Edmund had Bill hack into the summoning spell through his crystal ball connection, and once Ronnie finished it wasn't Demogorgon who turned up. Rather it was his younger relative, Octagorgon.
Turns out that Demogorgon is pretty sick and tired of adventurers trying to prove their manly heroism and righteousness by killing him. The same also goes for most of his brothers, among them Quartogorgon, Pentagorgon and Heptagorgon. Octagorgon however, being the youngest of the bunch, and the least popular, isn't quite as jaded yet, and when the summoning spell had a loophole in it he went instead. Unfortunately for Ronnie, Octagorgon turned out to be two inches tall, and Edmund immediately stepped on him, winning the duel.
So now Ronnie has gone home to his own Fortress of Darkness, leaving Edmund prancing around like a rooster. I must say, it will be pleasant to have some peace and quiet now, it will allow me time to plot my next Evil Scheme. I must also remember to practise my perfect Evil Cackle a bit more, it still seems to lack something.
Also, Octagorgon tasted excellent when sliced on toast, with just a hint of garlic. Note to self: Write recepie down.
8th of Flamerule
I have no doubt Ronnie will try to win my affection again later on, but for now, Edmund is my beau of choice. Well, not really. I think I'll be mean and keep my distance for a few more days... just to tease and make Edmund's victory all the sweeter... *evil chuckle*
For now, I have to concentrate our efforts on a strange group of people who have been gaining an extraordinary amount of power in a considerable short time. It is alarming to say the least... They are called the 'moral minority', but especially the last part of their name might change...
I don't know about them, since most of the agents I sent to them never returned, but I do know it is a very tyrannical rule under the guise of extreme good. With a rigidity that would put the Helmites to shame, the leaders indoctrinated their servants with such fervor, that everything that doesn't even remotely agree with their philosophy is quickly criticised/banned/burned/beaten/killed to 'prevent corruption of the innocent youth'. In large ceremonies where paladins dress up like demons and angels, their leaders appear to call to the heavens for salvation, uttering the phrase 'give till it hurts' to swindle the populace out of their money to further finance their campaign of terror across the Realms, slaughtering thousands who disagree with their notions of 'good'.
This will not be an easy fight, nor is it normal conquest. Nay, I consider it my DUTY as a dedicated servant of Extreme Evil, to free the Realms and the enslaved masses from the yoke of righteous goodness, so that they might be free to continue their thieving, sinning and fornucating ways!
Of course, it will be very much fun to crush the force of lawful death under my boot-heel... *chuckles evilly*
