The Unholy Legions of Anti-Sanctus Chaotica, a Warhammer Online Destruction Regiment, Dark Lady Mizzie's story as told by Mizzie!

This fool, Jachin, thinking that he can tell my story. The arrogance of men, the arrogance of a Blackguard. Truly he is foolish. I mean he can't even get my name right! Miztrezz...Mizzie...certainly sounds different to me.

I can tell you a story. I can tell you lots of stories. Would you rather hear it straight from me or from some "prophet", who thinks that our insane Dark Lord Noir has some wisdom to impart to us? Really, how droll.

I'll tell you, tell you something I haven't ever told anyone before. I don't like to talk about where I've been, things I've done or events I've seen. Any true telling of my story might reveal some weakeness or fault that I have worked very hard to enshroud.

Most anyone who talks to me now may think that I'm too "pleasant", not really the characteristics of a "normal" witch elf, is it? I've found though, that if you're always showing that you're evil, wicked and cruel that you don't have a lot of people putting trust in you. They'll keep you at arm's length always careful around you. Well, that just wouldn't do. I don't like to be kept at arm's length, it infuriates me to no end. I prefer things up close and personal, both figuratively and literally.

Oh, so that thing I was going to tell you, right. Sorry for my digression, can't ever seem to stay on point.

So, a long time ago, in a land far, far away I used to quite like telling stories, I'd tell some real good ones too. I liked to get everyone all riled up and I'd laugh and laugh when they found out they'd been had. It was quite comical to see their reactions, all up in a frenzy, first worried and then anger, that flash of anger that would come across their face when they discovered the truth, that was the best. Sadly though, after a while they stopped believing me. I couldn't evoke the same level of reaction from them as I could before. This just wouldn't do, I had to something different.

I decided that I'd play another game with them. If they were not going to believe me then there wasn't much point to telling the stories, was there? So, this new game, it took advantage of the fact that I could play with their feelings another way. I could tell them almost anything I wanted and they weren't going to believe me. But, what if they started to turn out to be true? How guilty they would feel for not acting to prevent it? Guilt, that was a nice feeling to extort from them. How long until they switched back the other way and started to believe me again? Struggling with themselves, not wanting to be fooled again but not wanting to take the chance that I may be telling the truth this time. An interesting experiment to be sure.

I took to performing all sorts of heinous acts, always warning others that it would happen. Some of the first things I did, no one tried to prevent.

Like the time that I found a small girl on the side of the road. Barely alive was she, that you had to put your ear up to her face to feel her breath. I went into town and told everyone about this girl, that this girl was unconscious and needed their help. She was vulnerable there on the side of the road, they needed to take her in and care for her. No one moved, instead they went on with their business. This delighted me to no end. I returned to the poor girl on the side of the road and immediately slit her throat from ear to ear. The dark red blood flowed onto the ground and stained the earth a dirty dark dark red, it pooled around the young elf's beautiful blond hair and soaked it, turning it a deep orange color.

I picked up the lifeless body of the young girl and carried her into town, putting her down in the central square and started walking away. The people in the square gasped in horror at the sight. Such a young pretty girl she'd been, this vacant-eyed young thing. A scream echoed through the square, one of the waitresses of the town pub came running out and into the middle of the square. Cradling the young limp body of the girl and wailing in despair, she screamed after me in a rage. I just kept walking, with a smile on my face. That was the reaction I was looking for, if only they had believed me, they could have saved the little girl's life. It wasn't something for ME to feel guilty about anyway, the girl might have died anyway, might have.

I'm sure you're wondering how long it took and how many incidents it took for them to start taking stock in what I had to say. I can't say exactly, it went on for quite some time. Sometimes I'd throw out the old stories again, the ones that weren't entirely factual. They'd be in an uproar, those people. I guess they didn't like the uncertainty.

This all just goes to show you, you can tell a lie once, twice maybe even three times. People will stop believing you. They won't believe you when you're telling the truth, or will they?