The Unintentionally Helpful Villain, Vol. 07 – The Importance of Communication

Diary Entry #0150

Five days I have been on the road with a band of mine cohorts. Good servants, my companions — many of them come from those Libraries whence I put them, to study arcane arts and divination during those most foul attacks of the Council of Darkness. They have proven useful with their trickery and short legs, enough even for a great Dark Lord such as myself to take notice.

My wisdom knows few bounds and none of them concern young he and she-children and what is to be done with them.

As long as no one hands them bows.

Diary Entry #0151

It occurs to mine terrible intellect that no reason was writ as to the reason of me having left mine capital when still it writhes, bloodied and wounded by traitorous fiends, ripe for attack by many a neighbor, as soon as weakness is felt. Why then would I, greatest master of dark arts and magics and sorceries, keeper of secrets unknown and unbecoming, abandon mine dark hold in this hour?

‘Tis simple, really. Only my will, indomitable and fierce as it is, has the capability to see my thunder found and brought back safely where it needs must be, in the heart of my realm, protecting all with its malicious rumble.

I am nearly certain as to the identity of this thief. It is not one among the traitorous lot of that Council whose name I no longer even wish to pronounce.

Nay, tis much worse. This thief is mine former wife.

Diary Entry #0152

I remember some of what it was like, before. Our life together was happy, if difficult. There was pain and hardship aplenty, as you might imagine. Working, trying to survive tends to do a grueling trick on the best of men. But I never gave up. Never.

I had a wife I loved. A daughter.

I miss them terribly.

Diary Entry #0153

Bah, what trickery is this?!

Memories of writing this previous entry, I have none! I have been under such monstrous tension lately, perhaps a respite is necessary.

The scouts report that a gathering of feral ogres threatens a nearby village. Perhaps I shall join them in their pillage of the free people of Lokre. My arcane librarians deem it an unpalatable idea but it will not do, allowing them to dictate my choices.

Diary Entry #0155

I have taken the minds of the feral ogres and forced them to do my bidding. That lot proved to be horrid hosts; they all but failed to recognize my superiority, those insipid fools. For that,  I have punished them as only I can.

The arcane librarian corps, as I have decided to call the newly-minted organization of wee lads and lasses who spend too much time in my libraries,  has cheered my decision. It would appear that some of them have come from Lokre; such pity that their parents never taught them the importance of communication.

All they needed do was ask.

 

Thank you for reading! I’m actively trying to steer this series towards a more fully-realized and rounded fictional world instead of a series of one-off comedic bits, which — while funny — don’t really leave that much of an impression. It’s a fun challenge I enjoy revisiting weekly; if you enjoy reading it, let me know! I’m always up for conversations on all fictional matters!

 

The Unintentionally Helpful Villain, Vol. 06 – Patronage

Diary Entry #0142

Over two weeks have come to pass since the Council of Darkness spun tail and ran off to the South. While I commanded a few efretti — fire demons, native to the far-off lands of Bazrah — to snap at the enemy’s heels, ’tis not my intent to defeat the Council as they retreat. Bah, let them hide in their desert fortresses and dusty keeps. I care not!

All that matters is finding my thunder, my beloved ambiance. My life is not the same without it. The sun has now taken a permanent residence — or what seems like it — into my glorious throne chambers. I recall arguing with a great architect about the dubious decision of making a fortress of obsidian and glass once; I can only wish that I were a more stern, principled Dark Lord.

I’ve always given old Barnabus too much leeway. Perhaps stricter control is in order, now that he is rebuilding my capital, he might as well be taught an important lesson in obedience.

GUARDS! BRING ME BARNABUS’ RIGHT FOOT!

…That ought to teach him.

Diary Entry #0143

Remaining on point is at times more troublesome than you would care to know. I was speaking of the continuous trials and tribulations that came with the spineless thievery of my precious thunder.

I have summoned a master, and forgive me if I misspell the word, “dee-tic-tive,” from the newly…sigh…liberated Elven democracy of Fanfallah. Whoever thought of these elven names should be skinned and given to the Nephew of Deceit. Nephew’s shown great affinity for naming all manner of beasties. He is also tremendous company for teatime.

Back to this dee-tick-tive. It is said that his prowess in capturing criminals is second to none. I shall use him until he is little more than a pile of bones, if that will bring me my thunder back! He better produce some results soon, some ‘kloo’ as he insists on calling them.

Elves are strange little tall people.

Diary Entry #0145

I have the thunder thief’s stench! Preparations for the chase near completion even now.

The strange little elf produced wonderful results. Let none say that I am an ungrateful master; to show my great appreciation for his service, I have offered my patronage. The little fellow agreed all too heartily. He will make me more of these dee-tick-thieves. There is great potential within the lad. I shall bathe him in my tenebrous embrace, coddle him in a chrysalis of pure night; it would be my greatest pleasure if he were to fulfill his great promise.

Aye, I might have very well misjudged Felandred…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Unintentionally Helpful Villain, Vol. 05: Stoned Enemies!

Diary Entry #0120

The gates are breached! Nightmares and monstrosities assail the very heart of my realm!

Goblins and orcs and undead have long since desiccated and turned to ash and dust under my protective aura; alas, the front line of the Council of Darkness refuses to break under my fierce defense. Gigantic mole-like creatures have crept from soft–if strangely covered in green growth– soil, and cyclopi have stepped to hold against my

Damn these iron-clad fiends! They are trying to steal my thunder!

Diary Entry #0121

Someone stole my thunder. No, I’m not talking about the figurative statement of style. I mean to say, someone stole the artifact that is my thunderous…well, thunder. It’s the ambiance sound in my throne chamber.

Someone stole a sound. How can someone even do that?!

Diary Entry #0124

Since my thunder has been stolen, things have gone terribly, horribly bad. By ‘things’, I mean the war effort. Forgive me, victorious me of the future. I can scarcely get to the task of defeating the enemy with the sounds of chirping birds coming ever-so-crisp from the outside. Things could only get worse if the sun were to sh–oh. Oh no. No! It broke through! The sun broke through the thick smaug of my beautiful fortress again!

*

I have just received word that the molemen of the Council of Darkness have become blinded and turned on the Council’s own soldiers. The cyclopi, meanwhile, have turned to stone, and so have the trolls. I salute my stoned enemies, even as I entwine the mole-creatures with tenebrous tendrils of power and send them to shatter the stone-forms.

…This was, of course, all part of my plan. It was I who, through my inactivity, challenged this…this burning sphere of death to turn its attention upon mine lands. Difficult as this task was, I have succeeded in it; and I have proven victorious, for now.

The Council of Darkness sounds the retreat. Amongst them is someone who has stolen my thunder.

He will not reach far.

 

Sunday Flirt Vol. 05

Sundays are for sending your mum off to Rome to do her thing – which may or may not include the dominion of all life. They’re for waking up terribly early, because there’s a catholic church over the street, and bloody Catholics are singing ‘Ave Maria’.

Sundays are for lazily studying six units of Management accounting and contemplating whether stabbing yourself in the eye is better or worse than going on to read the seventh unit. They are for contemplating on lost time and future opportunities.

Sundays are fun.

Most importantly though, Sundays are for horrible fantasy pick-up lines! Come to the top of the line and get yours while it’s hot!

  1. “Being swollen by that red dragon would’ve been so much lonelier without you, husband. Say, have you ever…”
    “Now’s really not the time for that, wife.”
  2. “I think you can put that blasting rod of yours to better use, Mr. Dresden.”
  3. “Moaning out a wizard’s true name is almost as dangerous as saying it out loud. Don’t believe me? Just you wait!”
  4. “Are you an illusionist? Because whenever I’m around you, my head is spinning!”
  5. “That transmogrification spell ain’t helping you down there, buddy, no matter how hard you try…”

 

And that just about wraps up the Sunday Flirt series; for a little while at least! I’m all out of ideas –even crappy ones! Next Sunday, something new awaits! See you then!

Ten Things I’d do if I were a royal squire

  1. There’s a few things a near-bankrupt nobleman hates more than a fourth son. I’m that son. Guess who got the boot, with only twenty pieces of silver and a letter to the royals’ far-off court. That’s right, this here lad.
  2. On the road, I — displaying the uncanny luck of the Roche family — get mercilessly beaten up by illiterate thugs. They steal the coin; the letter, they show no interest in.
  3. It is only thanks to the goodness within an old bard’s heart that I get to the city of Srava, where I am to do my duty as Roche and serve as squire. Here does my story begin.
  4. Dusting. That’s what I do, hours at an end. The Master of Ceremonies is as uptight as his title suggests. I don’t much enjoy his company.
    On the bright side, when I’m not cleaning the citadel, I serve at the Second Prince’s behest. He is kind and warm, and seems glad to have the company of someone his own age. We’re very proper and official, of course – the difference in rank between us is too great for anything else.
  5. It has been a month since I began my new life in Srava. It might be that me and Prince Kholin did something stupid to celebrate the occasion. It’s…not outside the realm of possibility that the two of us snuck into the kitchens during a small, entirely harmless fire that someone started, and we added something extra sweet to the bread.
  6. I believe we just invented an entirely new kind of dessert…Taking credit will be difficult, on account of the King being furious. It would appear that the King really likes his morning breakfast. He’s been fuming and foaming, and it doesn’t look like he’ll stop anytime soon.
  7. The funny thing is, the sweet bread’s really good. The King doesn’t know what he’s missing.
  8. The Prince is fearless. I chase him around all day long now, making sure he doesn’t slip from one of the buildings he loves climbing so much; a broken neck would hardly suit his princely visage.
  9. It’s been a wild few weeks since I got here, but I’m happy with how things are going. Life is good, even calm…well, when I don’t slip up and almost fall to my death, trying to follow His Highness.
  10. It’s been six months. Me and Kholin might’ve joined the Guild of Assassins. Not where I thought the day would go.

 

When I was a kid, I loved reading about the adventures of Jimmy the Hand, Prince Arutha’s Squire from the Riftwar Saga. Something reminded me of him today, and I thought that a tribute to Raymond Feist’s classical fantasy series would be fun to write!

Thank you for reading, and if you enjoyed this – leave a comment behind, start a conversation! I love talking about all things fantasy, and it’d be loads of fun to talk shop with y’all!

Sunday Flirt Vol. 04

Another Sunday passes as the hour of exam judgement falls ever nearer.

On that note…Sundays are for avoiding responsibility! Avoiding responsibility and flirting with fantasy characters! And here’s this week of fun fantasy pick-up lines’n’banter.

  • “You’re complicated AND extremely thick, aren’t you?”
    *This works best for books, but also for…*
  • “Honey, don’t say that…This spell does wonders for your breasts!”
  • “I’d never throw the wedding band you gave me in a volcano, not like that ungrateful hobbit.”
  • “Are you a famous scholar? Because I would love to get schooled by you!”
  • “I can see why you’re named Soulcatcher – you’ve certainly caught my soul!

Gosh, these become more and more desperate every week. I really need to get out more.

The Unintentionally Helpful Villain, Vol. 04 – Here Comes the Sun

Diary Entry #0110

Ten days of warring within thine splendid walls of blackness, my capital, my glorious Fulcrum. Blood – demonic and human and other, besides – clogs tiles of soulstone. Even more than is normal, in fact!

Mine annoyance knows no bounds. If only I could find the body of my esteemed generals…they would get quite the stern shaking, they would!

Alas…they dead. So dead. Perchance I have killed several of mentioned generals, myself.

On the dark side, the libraries and the children within them seem to have been swollen by the earth. Most perturbatory, even if my darkened heart sings in joy at the news. I will send a squadron of kobolds to investigate the soft soil where the libraries stood.

I have received word of one of my remaining commanders. The kobolds blew themselves up. Some newly-minted captain gave them real dynamite instead of the chocolate stuff. Poor tiny abominations…they can’t help themselves.

Well, at least they buried half the Council of Darkness’ army beneath obsidian and rubble. The best part is — they won’t ever pester me for more dynamite again!

Diary Entry #0113

The Dynamite Catastrophe of 1ADL shall remain in the memory of my various peoples for many, many years. Much obsidian did break, and even more was broken by these invaders who would end me…Do they have no respect for the work put into Fulcrum? Ten days did it take me to create, and ten more did I need until I filled it with men and women and beasts and monsters, and even with kobolds.

In hindsight, I might’ve exercised more wisdom in my choice.

Diary Entry #0114

I have spent the day and night on the frontline, fighting and collecting shards of obsidian. Well does it cut the skin of dragons, and even better does it cut their hearts.

Which I know purely out of some volumes of forgotten lore. Never would I kill these nearly extinct creatures in such a clearly unethical way…

Very well, I mustn’t lie…I killed several dragons today in revenge for mine obsidian.

Please don’t inform DEMD*.

Diary Entry #0115

A small victory at the price of a great loss. On this day I, the Dark Lord *******, have destroyed the enemy’s greatest sorcerous creations – great constructs of liquid metal, cursed to extinguish mine life. Alas, they were not up to the task.

I am distraught to say, however that to destroy them, I had to break down the great dark clouds above Fulcrum…the sun is shining down on me as I write these words, and slaughter orcs and goblins. I do believe I am getting a tan, and also, that strange organisms are spawning unto the soil.

Grass, my experts believe it to be. Food might also grow eventually, if nurtured with something else than a tincture of orc and man-blood.

I positively loathe the idea already.

(*Demons For the Ethical Murder of Dragons.)

Thank you for reading. The Dark Lord’s adventures will continue next Wednesday!

Sunday Flirt, Vol. 03

Sundays are for…wandering through an abandoned metro and shooting at Nazis and Reds; They are for solving thirty-fifty corporate finance problems; Sundays are also great for stuffing yourself full of pizza. When in Italy… and you might as well watch the season finale of American Gods while you do that. Gods, I’ll miss that show.

Today’s dreadful pick-up lines are, in fact, inspired by American Gods!

  1. “As sure as water’s wet and days are long, so am I. But don’t take my word for it!”
  2. “And I know a nineteenth charm, and that charm is the sexiest of them all, and that charm I can tell no man…but you, my lady, are certainly no man. That I can tell, even with the one eye.”
  3. “Look at you! So buff, so strong – just ready to be bled dry for the glory of Odin!
  4. “Girl, I’d hang from a tree for nine days if it meant getting another kiss, and a coin-sized moon!”
  5.  “My dear man, no matter how much knowledge you discover from the deep waters below Yggdrasil, it won’t prepare you…for me.”

And that’s that. Awful, aren’t they?

Ten Things I would NOT do if I were reborn as a demonic slave

  1. Movement’s difficult with so many arms. You wouldn’t think it was by looking at all those naked statues of four-handed sex goddesses, but it is. It really is. I wouldn’t be doing much of it at all; not properly, anyway.
  2. I WILL NOT give the fat demon lord massages. No, I do not care how many yugoloths will point their tridents at me, I refuse! A man has got to draw a line somewhere! Oh, wot? Demons are gender-neutral? Oh, I see, they can be made gender-neu–you don’t mean…? You do? Oh, dear.
  3. In my anger at cleaning up boots from human blood, I will take it all out on the very reason for those stains — humans. Yes, you heard me right. These stinkin’ no-good person-people are not getting away with staining any more of my master’s spiky boot pairs!
  4. I would not admit that the slaughter of innocent wee man-people by my hand is a big reason as to the perpetual bloodstains on the master’s boots.
  5. I really wouldn’t.
  6. No ignoring my weaknesses this time. No matter how many shiny, strange sources of energy I disc–ooh, why is that undead butterfly engulfed in sorcerous ene–Focus, Hyperius!
  7. No alliances with humans. Plot as I may, but I’m not going back to that stage of development…
  8. I would not go mano-a-mano with the boss-man. Fat and lazy as he might be, he’s still head demon poncho of the whole shebangin’ demon invasion. Head poncho, for those of you who might not be aware, is a specific term in demon culture, meaning…most wonderous demon who wears a particular type of clothing, for none other fits on his voluminous body.
  9. No ice magic. Much as I loved it in my good ol’ lich days, it simply does not help. Leaves one hell of a burn. Who knew that ice could burn a demon so bad?
  10. No more choking on demonic boots! Never, ever again! It took me four days to remove every single piece of metal I crunched down when I was eating the demon lord. Four weeks, in fact!

The events on this list are entirely fictional. Far be it for me to imply that demonic lords and slaves have access to the Internet… 

Top Ten Things I would do if I were reborn as a demonic slave

 

  1. New body, new set of rules! Let’s start off with movement. Nope, moving on four legs isn’t as easy as it looks. Why am I going to that hole? Wha—No, stop it! LEGS! LEEEEE—
  2. New management. I was a freelance lich in my last incarnation, but this time around…demon lords are all the buzz! I’m not saying this metaphorically; the large, tentacle creature with huge breasts and flames for eyes is buzzing at me.
  3. Licking boots. Sure. Why put my knowledge of this realm when you could use my new acid-coated tongue to clean your boots, demon lord?
  4. Why do demon lords even have boots? I understand faeries, and walking—but what is it about demonic boots?
  5. Do they really need all these spikes? Those are really hard on the acidic tongue, mind you.
  6. I’m getting boggled in boot-licking minutiae? Really? Oh, very well! I would also corrupt the souls of the forsaken, the desiccated, and those who have no brains on their skulls in order to know well enough not to stay in the middle of a demonic invasion!
  7. I would begin plotting. Demons plot, and I would hate to be unfaithful to my newly-discovered nature. What else do demons do, though? Let’s have a gander at my demonic lord and master; he…
  • Sleeps a lot;
  • Enjoys clean boots;
  • Consumes the souls of humans;
  • Plans invasions past the initial point of contact –my bad, everyone— but never acts on them;
  • Reads his poems aloud and pesters me and the succubi for positive reinforcement.
  1. I will plan on taking my demonic lord’s place. While I no longer am a wizard, or a lich…the knowledge remains. First, I will…abuse his poetic skills! No demon would expect such assault.
  2. Once the abuse continues, it is time to gaslight him. Aye, you heard that right. I will light the pungent gas that surrounds him afire!
  3. I shall consume his tender, burned flesh, and take my rightful place as demonic lord!

The protagonist of this list may or may not have choked on demonic boot by mistake, and proceeded to die several more times before reaching his goal. At this time, one simply could not say.