Read the previous entry here. Read the first entry in the series here.
Diary Entry #200
Ah, Karogar. The birthplace of mine own greatest failure.
It’s a filthy place, filled with pampered humans, haughty elves and bored, rich dwarves. Artists! Each one will tell you that’s what they are, and they’ll smile and look at you with thinly veiled arrogance, all the while explaining how your art has no merit!
Pish posh. What could possibly have ‘artistic merit’ if not the myriad shades of blood?!
If mine memory serves me right and proper, ’twas five days that I spent within this accursed city. Here it was that I first lay within a great wide bark — and dreamed the dark dreams that led me to mine great empire. The empire mine wife even now plots to destroy with mine old body, mine own arcane strength!
Bah, I am salivating profusely once again. Mine magical quill begins scribbling away whenever I allow this wrath take over mine better self.
Diary Entry #201
Mine search for the ex-wife hath proven fruitless. What I did find was a small army of Inquisitors, all too ready for mine appearance in the Art Halls of Karogar.
Aye, they hath caught me, and bound mine skin with rope. They remain obsessed with my witch’s magicks, no matter what I offer them. I cannot change in form, for they have enchantments keeping me locked unto this ridiculous body.
And yes, I am dictating unto mine magical quill through magical means. Do not question it.
Diary Entry #202
I have now offered mine captors a number of treasured items and experiences: several painful and gruesome ways to die; crossbow bolts to their knee caps; precious last words with their significant others, children and elder relatives; a mountain of goblin shite.
I hear that goblin shite is much appreciated by humans for the variety of medicinal values that can be found within it.
The Inquisitorial Order still refuses to release me from mine bindings.
Diary Entry #205
The Church of the Holy Blame hath pronounced that there is much to blame about mine feminine wiles. A crier has been crying out crimes, real and imagined, for the past three days now.
I have been tied to a balefire for some time, waiting for the Inquisitor-boy to finish mine list of grievances. Or mine wife’s. There is a surprising amount of overlap.
It is mildly uncomfortable.
Diary Entry #210
The young man that hath read mine great list of crimes, real or imagined, hath perished due to lack of breath. Another took his place. Might some fiend light the stake already?
Diary Entry #211
This is torture! Such monotonous voice, such inept usage of words, one coming after the other. I cannot stand it anymore!
Diary Entry #212
I hath attempted to break my bonds. While not fully successful, I hath managed to grab a torch and set the stake afire. It has burned now for one whole day. I feel the most terrible itch on my calf from the fire.
The monotonous boy-creature will not shut up. Where do they find these fanatics?!
Diary Entry #213
‘Tis enchanted wood. It simply won’t stop burning. The young Inquisitor will not shut up.
I will not die. I will instead laugh at them all! At the fire, at the lad, at their ineptitude in killing witches! What fools, what blithering, magnificent idiots!
But who might that be, in the distance? Doth mine feline eyes deceive me?!
Thank you for reading the latest Unintentional Villain adventure! I needed to take a few weeks easy, to rediscover my awful inner comedian, but now I’m back, and my vision for the series and the blog — restored and stronger than ever! I’m pretty much like Palpatine in that one Revenge of the Sith scene. In order to ensure the security and continuing stability of this blog, Magnus Writes will be reorganized into the *BLANK* to ensure progress and awesome fantastical shenanigans!