Diary Entry #0099
My capital is under siege. Seven Dark Lords and their armies are upon me and mine, and much malice is in their hearts. Even more malice is in their sharpened blades, but that seems secondary to me. The blades are almost as tiny as the corpses of my soldiers that they’re stuck in.
A great melancholy does come upon me when I think of the malice in these hearts.
Such waste, to see so much malice go in my direction, when there’s heroes to kill, winter spirits to maim…
Diary Entry #0100
I write this as I do battle. It has proven a most extraordinary experience. Thoroughly rewarding.
I have slain many a dozen of wretched monstrosities. Ogres. Ettin. Several creatures that were neither ogre, nor ettin, and yet were more impressive than both.
Despite mine thirsty blade and dreadfully sordid expression and actions, mine hordes of supreme evil seem prone to fall.
Ah! Here comes the Demibourbon, my ever-envious adversary in the Council of Darkness! He challenges me. It shall be a fine battle, indeed!
I now write these dots with the blood of mine fallen enemy, and tears stream down mine eyes. His was a fate far too dishonourable for one such as he.
A childe, of age 12 – from the plantations far down South in mine lands – did shoot him with an arrow in his eyes. Aye, eyes. How they went through his ensorcelled helmet, I do not know; I know only that mine glorious combat has been denied to me.
Alas, poor Fallen Gods! I need must find a worthy adversary.
Who gives these children arrows?
I shall hang him! And burn him! And stick him on a spike!
An arrow just stuck itself into mine Royal Adviser. Perhaps it IS time to retreat, as he and his colleagues keep screeching at me.
Diary Entry #101
The first walls of the city have fallen. Mine dark obsidian doth break too easily.
I have ordered that children are to be discouraged from using weapons, and be put into libraries instead, and learnt to read and write. That way, none shall take my adversaries out.