Scales of War

Madmartigan's Journal


Tiamat is dead, to begin with. That bitch put up a hell of fight, one of godly proportions you could even say. But she was still no match for Madmartigan’s Men & Ithyk, as we landed blow upon mighty blow on her. If I had more hands, I would have choked all five heads but instead I had to settle for ripping her a new one with the spear of destiny.
The Men & Ithyk are already turning her heads into hats and making plans for the future. I can see how eager some are to move on, but I can feel Madmartigan planning an epic party, one to end all parties. My work here is done, so I’ll be giving Madmartigan full control again, confident that he will know what to do with his god-like power now. I sense in him an urge to continue partying. I think I’ll allow him to find me and the others once a year to fulfill this need. I don’t want to see what would happen to him if his urges were not occasionally sated. Once I give him control back, I don’t think I’ll be able to regain it. He’s become too powerful. So a yearly bash should keep him from going over the bend into evil-town. Ugh, I’ve been in his mind too long, his language is infecting me. Time to enter the time stream and see what else I can fix. Peace out, bitches.




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