Sixth Moon, First Day, 200 AD

6:40 PM

I sent a messenger dove to my insurance company asking them if they covered damage related to acts of attempted heroism. I sure hope so. I owe enough money to the troll mob as it is.

I went back to check up on the princess and found her trying to chew through her chains with her teeth. I told her that a team of warriors had arrived to save her but failed miserably. She didn’t seem too upset about that unfortunate turn of events. In fact, she looked slightly relieved. I asked her why. She said that had she been rescued by a group of burly, muscular male heroes, that would have reinforced negative male/female stereotypes that would present an obstacle to the quest for gender equality in modern society. I smiled, nodded, and made a mental note to never kidnap leather-clad princesses again.

All these events of the past few days have drained me. I think I’ll turn in for the night, and hopefully there won’t be any more unexpected surprises in my plans.

Sixth Moon, Second Day, 200 AD

3:30 PM

Holy shit, was it just me or was one of those guys I fought earlier waving around a paintbrush? And was he dressed in a funny costume that looked like a white bear with antennae that had red fuzzy balls on the end?

Sixth Moon, Second Day, 200 AD

9:30 AM

My goodness, what a world we live in. Not only did those unscrupulous hooligans completely trample over my lair, which frankly wasn’t in the best of shape to being with, but they also made off with all my stuff! Among the stolen were seven different swords of varying elemental powers and magic bonuses, two staves of healing, a fire spellbook and 60,000 GP. I suppose it may have been a small oversight on my part so store all of those items in unlocked, conspicuously located iron chests, but come on people! What happened to common decency?! Do property rights mean anything to you?! You don’t see me just waltzing into your house and waltzing out with half your worldly possessions do you? Can’t trust anyone these days. I’d report this to the town police but I’m not exactly on their good side, what with the whole threaten-prominent-city-officials thing.

I guess maybe I could use a good PR guy.

Sixth Moon, Third Day, 200 AD

12:00 PM

In light of recent unpleasant developments, it seems that I now lack the necessary funds to continue my evil research in evil magic in an appropriately evil fashion. So I went job hunting. Kind of ironic, I mused, since you can teach a man how to harvest souls, or kill a thousand people in a single breath, but tell him to materialize some fish out of thin air and you’re out of luck.

I guess it was expected for someone of my questionable reputation, but no one wanted to hire me. Something about “insanity” and “evil isn’t part of the company policy”. I wasn’t really listening since I was too busy imagining the guy’s face on fire. Then laughing as I set the guy’s face on fire. I stole his wallet too. Well that should tide me over for a few days until I can find some employment.

Sixth Moon, Fifth Day, 200 AD

3:30 PM

With his dying breath (I swear, I had nothing to do with it), an old man tipped me off about a cave due north of the village of Snowden that hid a fabulous treasure, something worth thousands and thousands of GP. Hey, looks like good things do happen to bad people.

Sixth Moon, Seventh Day, 200 AD

I-have-no-fucking-clue PM

I’ve been dicking around in this cave for hours and hours and I haven’t been able to find one scrap of treasure. Of course, what I have been able to find are hordes and hordes of monsters. And these ain’t your wimpy, garden-variety goblins and imps. Nah, what we’ve got here are lean, mean, drooling/clawing/biting/venom-spewing/painfully killing machines, with attitudes to match. Firelions and bonetigers and skullbears oh my!

Sixth Moon, Eighth Day, 200 AD

I-still-have-no-fucking-clue PM

How strange. Every time I dispatch one of these ugly buggers there seems to be predetermined allotments of GP lodged in their bloody carcasses. I coaxed 68 GP out of a mud slime’s slime coating, and scored 400 GP from the stomach of a red cockatrice. And I won’t even tell you what I did to that dreadknight.

As I wander this endless labyrinth that just so happened to be conveniently situated in this very cave, it suddenly occurred to me that this is what heroes do in their spare time. And it’s absolutely appalling! Think about it. We’re talking about the wholesale slaughter of every bird or cat or dog or three legged zombie demon inhabiting the plains and the forests and the seas! Genocide on a scale that I could only dream of accomplishing! Where are the voices for those who cannot speak, or speak in a series of grunts and snorts?!

“For great justice!” my ass. At least I admit I’m evil.