Well, That's Death!

Watching Mice

6th of Moonset

                                 So. Why would the most powerful Necromancer in the world end up writing a diary?

"Because of the existential dread of  finding no more purpose in life aside from merely staying aware of one's present surroundings out of a sense of pride and spite and seeking to find said purpose by using one's present power to consolidate more power with said power... Of course!"

That's what a mage exclaimed to me once. I told this elf that I would let him leave my humble abode if he could explain to me, in simple terms, why I keep on living.

I was and still am a philosopher, so I merely wanted to know what the current thinkers think about mortality.

I teleported him into a pit of acid, "Of course."

My my, and people think I'll end the world!

21st of Moonset

On my crystal ball, I watched a Barbarian, a Ranger and a Bard spend 5 hours, 32 minutes a 15 seconds trying and failing to find the secret entrance to my abode.

5 hours. Gone. Wasted.

How can they cope with that?

The Bard was laughing by the end of all, telling jokes and improvising songs about the whole ordeal.

"We poked but not looked.
We walked but not talked.
Now I jest but still we have no chest."

I should have sent some harpy's to rip them all to piece's.

Note to self: You have monsters, use them.

24th of Moonset

I can't believe it!

My Crystal ball received a message from Crath! Carth, that spinless, gormless, hopeless, half-witted, slack jawed,  goblin brained amateur lich!

I presumed I cast an enchantment that  blocked him from contacting me, but I presumed wrong!

He wants me to vaporize him because he's struggling to "keep my marbles in the bowl"

Cretin.

30th of Moonset

It's my birthday today. 

I think.

Is it?

It is.

Or is it?

Or is it tomorrow?

Or was it yesterday?

Or next week?

Is it?