Dear Lord of Terror:

I recently visited you mansion, or The Chaos Sanctuary as the locals call it, in acceptance of your kind dinner invitation, and I cannot understand how our date went awry. I am rarely stood up so rudely on a date, but more on that later. I must advise you to consult with Martha Stewart, and soon.

I noticed that you hired a really weird interior decorator. For example, the roof and ceiling were . . . where? And absolutely No Furniture. Very minimalist, but where do you sit down when you want to sip some Stroh's™ fire brewed beer and watch the Amazons compete in the Nude Olympics?. (It is Hell, is it not? 8^P ) And I really need to talk to you about your household staff.

That floating valet and all of his other floating "Finger Pages;" just what the hell is it that they do? I mean, I lifted up the lid on the toilet in your western bathroom and these clowns just swarmed all over me, trying to poke me with their fingers, while I was trying to pass a disagreeable bit of Jalapeno Burger. If this is your physical therapist or your proctologist, can you please tell him my HMO will not pay the bill? Sister Laura is my family physician. The least they could have done was knocked.

And that other guy, with the Bat Wing cape and the big shiv? And the really bad case of halitosis? He and his coked up "homies" have to be the worst 'butler and footmen' combination I have ever seen.' I went to return some beer in your Eastern WC, and these idiots were all over themselves, trying to cut me because I sprayed a little bit on the seat.

But I must really take you to task for your cook. That Circum de Seis guy. I appreciate that he likes to be left alone in the kitchen, but this assaulting the guests when they lift up the lid on the dish to see what's for dinner is just rude conduct for a servant.

C'mon, big fella, how in Hell do you expect to be able to throw a decent dinner party if you can't get decent help? And anyway, where the Hell did you get off standing me up? Were you "busy spreading hate and discontent" --Right!-- or just off banging your favorite succubus? I thought you said you were keen to "eat me," and I took that as a not-so-subtle hint that you are a silver-tongued devil.

Or did I miss something when you said you would wanted to have me over for dinner? You may be the Lord of Terror, but Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Watch Yer Back, pal.

Yours in deepest disappointment

Occhidiangela, Rogue with a Heart
Third cell, top floor
Sisters of the Sightless Eye Monastery
Tamoe Highlands, Khanduras. 06969-8181

Dear Rogue with a Heart:

I must advise you to consult with Martha Stewart, and soon.

HER?! Surely you jest! I would settle for no less than Mephi Stophelese.

For example, the roof and ceiling were . . . where?

Curses! You mean Buzzard Ent.(ity)® forgot to include them? I apologize most deeply. I had no idea they had done such as I have been quite busy these last few months.

And absolutely No Furniture.

I... Blast! My blood fountain pen has run out of ink!

I do not know if you recall, but the furniture that I included in my past dwelling, The Crack of Hell Behind Pepin's House, got little use. I paid top-dollar for the finest floor horns, and nobody used them. Everybody wanted to use the spikes-with-people-on-them-in-the-floor and the meat-hooks-on-the-wall. My minions complained about that and I decided to include no such features in my second abode.

Where do you sit down when you want to sip some Stroh's™ fire brewed beer and watch the Amazons compete in the Nude Olympics?

Why, I pop the head off of one of my minions, use his body as a raft, and float around in the River of Flame. It's much more comfortable to float around on a freshly-killed corpse than to sit around on a rocky, Hellish structure. Oh, and the licking tongues of fire do wonders for the skin!

And I really need to talk to you about your household staff.

Yes... I know what your complaint is. I just haven't been able to round up any good minions since Tristram. Those rude "heroes" killed all of my succubi, magely advisors, and even my knights. I have to settle for dime-a-dozen undead minions these days.

That floating valet and all of his other floating "Finger Pages;" just what the hell is it that they do?

What do they do? They reconstruct my undead legions, or they're supposed to reconstruct them. Frankly, I think they lied on their job application. I promise they won't be back next time.

If this is your physical therapist or your proctologist, can you please tell him my HMO will not pay the bill?

Your Hamster Matinence Organization will not pay the bill? I'm confused. I thought they fingered you, not your Hamster.

The least they could have done was knocked.

And ruin the surprise? You mortals have such perposterous ideas sometimes.

And that other guy, with the Bat Wing cape and the big shiv? And the really bad case of halitosis? He and his coked up "homies" have to be the worst 'butler and footmen' combination I have ever seen.' I went to return some beer in your Eastern WC, and these idiots were all over themselves, trying to cut me because I sprayed a little bit on the seat.

You have absolutely no idea how hard it is to get ahold of good Balrogs these days. I'm ashamed I had to hire the Infector of Souls and his gang, but Buzzard insisted on me having three different minions in my Sanctuary and all of the good demons were killed in Tristram. How I miss Sir Gorash and Lt. Jim the Black Knight...

But I must really take you to task for your cook. That Circum de Seis guy. I appreciate that he likes to be left alone in the kitchen, but this assaulting the guests when they lift up the lid on the dish to see what's for dinner is just rude conduct for a servant.

Perhaps rude to mortals, my dear. You're just lucky he remembered that mortals dislike the undead custom of roasting the guest instead of an edible mammal.

And anyway, where the Hell did you get off standing me up? Were you "busy spreading hate and discontent"?

I was in Hephasto's Court. Albrecht is suing me for the wrongful death of his father. Apparently the lad is undead now, unable to properly die after being possessed by a Prime Evil.

As for your last comment, you insult me! My brother Mephisto sews the seeds of hatred. You should know that. I, Diablo, attempt to take over the world every so often, though with the lawsuit and the bad help I don't see how I'll ever pull it off.

I thought you said you were keen to "eat me," and I took that as a not-so-subtle hint that you are a silver-tongued devil.

I was, but my minions informed me that you are much too thin to eat. I'm glad I was in court and missed you, you spindly thing. But worry not, my dear, I'll have you fattened up soon enough.

Watch Yer Back, pal.

Is that a threat? *playful growl*

Yours in prime evil hunger, Diablo, Lord of Terror
Behind five seals
666 Chaos Sanctuary, River of Flame
The Abyss, Hell. 66600-6660

Dear Rogue with a Heart and no-so-dear Diablo:

My outstandingly overpaid sources have brought to me a couple of letters that have been exchanged between the two of you. Apparently, there has been a(nother) misunderstanding between Diablo and one of the mortal Realm heroes. For the time being, and as far as God keeps paying me to do so, I offer my humble person again to intercede in the problem and help you both reach a solution and an understanding.

For that purpose I propose dinner in MY place, at a time of convenience for both human and demon. And I don't want to hear the "I can't be asked to climb all those stairs again" excuse, mr. Diablo, I've heard that before. This time you have some floating mage things that can lift you up, so that you don't have to take a single step, but be sure to leave them parked outside, remember what happened last time when Jamella opened the fridge to get a beer...

In order to encourage both of you to attend there are a few points you should consider about each other's position:

For the Rogue with a Heart:
You must understand that Diablo, unlike you, has had to fix and redecorate many places before his current house. He's tired of trusting famous decorators and artists, spending a lot of well earned money and treasure to pay them, to find out after a few years that their souls go straight to his neibourghood for the sins of greed and for cheating on their customers. After a while he got tired of it and decided for the "minimalistic" practical arrangement.

Also, if he has had many places before, you can't imagine how MANY servants he's had under his command. Before the last hero came o make a mess out of his household last time in Tristam, he was already having a lot of trouble with the servants:

• First his pets had the annoying habit of going around the house spitting all over the place, and if you think that looks bad you should have sensed the smell of it.
• The succubi were getting really annoyed with that because they were hired for... "other" procedures, not to keep the house clean.
• Due to the succubi sexual appeal and the long enclausuration they supported, the mages allied with them.
• Then, the knights found the pets lovely and very funb to play with, poking with their swords.
• The Balrogs, meanwhile, had different problems, complaining about the magma demons who had the best place, hot and covered with running magma, while they had to freeze their butts in the house.

So, as you can see, Diablo's servants are probably at the bottom of his original list of servants, but he's had no choice but to hire them.

For Diablo:
This is not the first time you do something like this, and frankly, you're starting to try both my patience and the Boss' one. You are supposed to be the Lord of Terror, thus as that you have to bring that to the mortals AS A WHOLE, instead of picking on individual ones, creating these kind of problems taht end up requiring the mediation of the Heaven Delegation. Either you start behaving as you have to or your license for exclusive access to the mortals might be revoked.

Also, as I told you before, your use of the mortal language is extremely poor, and I advise you improve it before trying to be, well, a "silver-tongued devil". Just for you to know, "eating her" can have a vast number of meanings, and in the wrong context can bring misunderstandings like this. Ask one of your favourite remaining succubi for details, and in the future, try to speak in a more clear way.

So, please, both of you, consider my invitation and accept to come to hear each other's position, I'm sure that with faith we can overcome this misunderstanding.

The Archangel Tyrael
Supervisor of the Three Brothers,
Inf. Pandemonium Fortress, Limbo
1/0

Dear Archangel Tyrael:

WOE!! Woe is me!! The Zakarum were wrong! My religion was the wrong one, Oh Angel of Light! I am now *bleat* doomed to be a sheep! A cruel, cruel irony! A shepherd I was in life and now... Oh, wo-AAHH!!!... Excuse me. I must get to the topic or have my wool pulled out again. Permit me to get something to clean up this blood.

Yes, that's better.

First I must apologize that Diablo cannot take the time to reply. He is again in court, but this time it's the Maiden of Anguish suing him for not letting her take over Tristram with him after he promised her that he would. You see, they had a deal that she'd get all the males in Tristram if she were to help Diablo pull the wool over the eyes of the townspeople. Sadly, Diablo, under the advice of Buzzard, ended up not going with her services. Time goes on and Diablo rises again. Andariel is called upon, but Diablo gives her a monastery of women to take control of instead of men. As you can probably guess, that made her none-too-happy. But I digress.

Eh... Where was I? *bleat* Ah, yes. Diablo is in court and I, as Hell's P.R. Sheep, am obliged to reply to your letter.

For that purpose I propose dinner in MY place, at a time of convenience for both human and demon.

It is the nature of demons to prefer chaos, Tyrael. Diablo may drop in, or he may not drop in.

This is not the first time you do something like this, and frankly, you're starting to try both my patience and the Boss' one. You are supposed to be the Lord of Terror, thus as that you have to bring that to the mortals AS A WHOLE, instead of picking on individual ones, creating these kind of problems taht end up requiring the mediation of the Heaven Delegation. Either you start behaving as you have to or your license for exclusive access to the mortals might be revoked.

You dare tell the Lord of Terror how to behave, impotent angel?! You could not stop him when he released Baal. What makes you think you or your boss have any power? Muhahahahahahaha!

Just for you to know, "eating her" can have a vast number of meanings, and in the wrong context can bring misunderstandings like this.

What misunderstanding? Diablo knew exactly what he was saying. Permit me to leave a *bleat* lick-spot on this parchment courtesy of my master, who is unable to do so at the moment.

So, please, both of you, consider my invitation and accept to come to hear each other's position, I'm sure that with faith we can overcome this misunderstanding.

Oh, Tyrael, it is you who misunderstand, and it is a far worse misunderstanding. You cannot fathom the depths of the mind of a mortal or the superfici-AHHH!!... superior mind of demons. Go get caught in a butterfly net, *bleat* you overly shiny cockroach.

Oh, and Diablo is quite eager see you again. He never did get to taste Izual's wings before they became leathery, so he'll remember to shear off your wings before throwing you into the Abyss. Perhaps your wings shall taste like chicken.

Arch-Bishop Lazarus
Hell's Public Relations Sheep *bleat*
1 The Altar of the Child Who Isn't Albrecht, Underworld
The Durance of Sheep, Hell. 000003

P.S. Where'd you expect me to go when I died? Kehjistan?

Dearest Tyrael:

Thank you for your kind invitation. I will accept, I think, but if you recall, my brother has a few things to say about how you and certain other powerful beings of Light somehow find a way to pawn off your responsibilities on mere mortals, not to mention getting utterly suckered into creating the whole Soulstone Pyramid scheme in the first place. So forgive me if I suggest that I bring a second to cover my back, as I am sure you will remain extremely neutral, and thus turn the other cheek if skullduggery is afoot.

I have sent a Westmarch Union telegram to one Lurkerdin, a Paladin no doubt well known to you, who will act as my escort to your "crib" and will ensure that honor and decorum is maintained. Lord love a Paladin.

However, as the matter of taste is to be considered, I wish to dress appropriately. the studded black leather et al will simply not do. Is the attire business formal, black tie, or "ballgowns and tuxes?" Having been out of circulation for a while during my healing at the Monastery, I have lost touch with fashion and have no desire to be over dressed. If I am undressed, er underdressed, I expect I will receive no complaints.

Would an emerald green full length silk gown, sleeveless, legs slit to uper thigh, bound at the waist by a golden silk sash, be an appropriate dress for the occasion? I will of course accesorize to match, but for once I feel "when in doubt wear basic black" just won't do for dinner with an Archangel and the Lord of Terror.

If you would be so kind as to reply with the "dress code" I will be delighted to attend.

Occhidiangela, Rogue with a Heart
Third cell, top floor
Sisters of the Sightless Eye Monastery
Tamoe Highlands, Khanduras. 06969-8181

Dear Occhi and Lazarus:

Tyrael was deeply upset about the whole episode so, willing to relieve him from part of his stress I've decided to intercede trying to get an agreement satisfactory for both parts.

First off, Lazarus, I shall remind you that Diablo has no longer a legion of lawyers (should I say advocates?) to help him in courts, and has to defend himself (that's why, among other things, he keeps being called into court). Don't make the mistake of thinking that poor Tyrael has no resources to stop your master, it's only that he, as a being of light, dislikes doing the dirty work involved in a court, hence he prefers to do things himself (yes, leading him to embarassing moments, as the previously mentioned episode with Baal). If neccessary, I'll recall deckard Cain or a legion of Paladins to nail him in court, don't underestimate the power of religious fanaticism combined with a vast knowledge of the law, they'd whip the floor with your master's horns. And I'm not afraid of doing the dirty work, after a while I kind of like it.

If the matter of the misunderstanding was semantics or not, doesn't matter. Tyrael was trying to get some grounds to try to point that things can be worked out, and that we can en up this in a civilized way. You know me, and you know I can be uncivilized, so it'd be wise to accept Tyrael's offer and show up in the dinner. Besides, I'll be cooking, and it'd deeply offend me not to find your master there.

About the matter of dressing, it is actually a though decision, dear Rogue with a Heart. If it was only for me, an informal dress would do fine, as long as you're comfortable. But in a matter of an official dinner with the Archangel, I'd advice for a long white robe with wide sleeves and tightened with a 3-line sash, but that would probably offend the Lord of Terror to the deepest. As a matter of fact, I think that your choice of green silk gown would do fine, as long as you keep the leg slit on the side facing to the Lord of Terror, and you include a short sleeved shirt under it. Please tell me in which side the slit is so that I can arrange the seats.

Finally, you're free to bring a chaperone with you. I'm sure diablo would appreciate that remainder of the lack of stile of his latest servants.

Sincerely,

Jamella the Shopkeeper
Tyrael's Public Relationships Manager
Inf. Pandemonium Fortress, Limbo.
1/0

Dearest Jamella,

Tyrael and I have been wondering, just what in Hell are you drawing all the time? And how do you draw it? Is your finger some kind of light-pointer? And why don't you talk... EVER? All you ever say is "Hail to you, champion," and I'll tell you, it really isn't appropriate to say that to a constipated, incontinent, old man as he hobbles out of the restroom!

Oh, and please be kind to Lazarus. He's just doing his job, much like I was just doing my job when I "forgot" to tell the hero in Tristram what to do with the soulstone. It was an absolute riot to watch him sink into... madness! Hehehe!

*sniffing noises* W-what's that smell? PIXIPS?! Your letter (stolen from Occhidangela) smells of pixips! Oh, sweet pixips! I shall extract them one-by-one and devour those wriggling morsels!

Now, Jamella, you will tell me where you keep your pixips! I MUST HAVE THEM!! The pixips will be mine or I'll tell Halbu about you and Hadriel!

Cain the Elder Vagrant
Last of the Horadrim
No Permanent Address

Back to Stories
Home