Ok, fine, since you all insist...here is the next chapter. it wasn't beta-ed and I am using a different program to save it so the formatting and other little things might be off. I will try to be more productive. now that christmas is over I dont have 5 projects going at once, so I will be able to add this one to the list, providing my merfaun of a muse cooperates. enjoy and review, or I will sic Bellatrix on you!

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IIIA, 3019 January 13

With my magic working, I have decided to devise a new way to keep this diary. I have magicked one of my quills to write down whatever I think should be added whenever it happens. This will save me considerable hours, staying up late and writing what has occurred that day or trying to catch up on the last few days. Also, it will serve to keep a more accurate account, for the retelling can embellish or diminish certain aspects, something I do not wish to happen. Well, that little public service announcement is out of the way...on to today, which started rather early, much earlier than I would have liked.

At sunrise, Angmar knocked on my door and swept in.

"Wakey, wakey!"

I groaned.

"Come on. You can't expect to be the first lady of evil if you sleep all day. It is time to rise and wreck havoc!"

"I think you are still high on caffeine."

"Caffeine?"

"Yeah, you know, that buzz you got off the tea last night?"

"The undead do not get buzzes," was the lofty reply.

"Then what, pray tell, is the cause of all this chipperness?" came my unconvinced retort. "I didn't know this world had weed."

"Very funny. But no I haven't picked up any hobbit habits. Can't a guy just be happy?"

"You mean those little gnomes we are chasing like to smoke? And no, a guy must always have ulterior motives."

"Well, my ulterior motive today is moving!"

"Why is that such a cause for celebration?"

"How would you feel about moving to Minas Morgul with me?"

"I thought you agreed to take this slow"

"Look who is talking. You're the one who insisted on making out until all hours of the night. What is a guy supposed to think?" If he could have, his undead eye would have winked at me.

"Like you weren't participating in said event," I shot back, smiling coyly. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as you are ready."

"Well, in that case," I said rising, "You must leave. I may have made out with you, but I am not about to dress in front of you." And giving him a definite shove toward the door, I kicked the Witch King out of my quarters. It was such a satisfying thing to do, especially given the way I had been woken up; First Lady of Evil does not just describe my social agenda.

I dressed, grabbed a fellfruit which tasted an awful lot like a grapefruit, and began to pack. With magic at my disposal, I easily shrunk everything and fit them in the saddlebags the Angmar had made special for Maddie. When I met him in the stables after breakfast, Angmar's face at the sight of my rather little and light bags was quite humorous.

"And here I was sure you were going to bring that obsidian claw tub you were so fond of."

"What makes you think I didn't?"

Angmar raised one eyebrow. "The balrog will be most put out with you if you did. That was the only one that could fit him."

"It's also the only one that could fit both of us." I winked and swung onto Maddie. Needless to say, Angmar was close behind me, but I refused to say more. A lady must not be too easy.

And off we soared to Minas Morgul, which I must say is a dreadfully perfect name for a dark lord's lair. I must remember some of these names to suggest to my Lord V. whenever I get back home. Our last ones were not quite so fear-inspiring.

Our arrival had little pomp and circumstance, for which I was glad. Riding eight hours on the back of a fell beastess made me want to give myself an Advilio spell. Apparently, most of the troops were off on scouting missions across the river and elsewhere, so I was spared the tragedy of waving and nodding to cannon fodder I would much rather curse.

Angmar promised me the best room and he wasn't joking. I have the entire floor of the highest tower to myself. The view is absolutely breathtaking. Black crags extend for miles to the north and south. To the east is the stark Gorgoroth plateau, and to the west is the soon-to-fall land of Gondor, hidiously pale and begging to be burnt. Very inspiring, I wanted to get to work right away, but Angmar said we must wait for news from some mining operation. Battles can be won or lost by the hour at which they are fought.

Don't I know that. I was in jail for an ill-timed blow. Perhaps I shall learn the art of strategy. Lord V. always said that was my weak point, that I was too passionate. But I am a woman, aren't I supposed to be emotional? Dark lords are wonderful, but they can be so aggravating sometimes.

Because it took so long to get here and I was so tired from the journey and nothing could really be done on the campaign, I went to bed early. Unpacked first, of course, but sank into my glamorous color #47 coal, 180-thread count, scalloped-edged, quilt-stitched satin sheets from Pottery Ruin at the first available moment and promptly fell asleep.