So, as promised (long ago), this is the sequel to "Wisdom and corruption". I would suggest reading the first part first, but if you're determined you can start from here. Suffice it to say that Shurvi is the warrior hero from D1, who killed his rogue companion because she tried to convince him not to be foolish enough to stick a Soulstone in his forehead.
It's been a while since I've been on Diablo's forums, but I hope I'll get some reviews :) Please, it's when we get comments that we can better our writing skills.
Damnation and Salvation
Chapter I. The Damned and the Hopeless
Shurvi walked, endlessly, through the desert. He had long abandoned any hope of salvation. He was a prisoner to his body, looking at another mind commanding his feet forward, with intent of freeing his brothers, and rain death upon the land. Him, the great Hero of Tristram, had taken barely three weeks to be completely overrun. Now that he was just held at bay at the back of his body, while Diablo possessed it, Diablo's hold on his mind had weakened, and he felt how much Liria had been right. He also felt great guilt to have killed her, and even greater guilt not to have felt anything doing it.
She had been his best friend, his companion in arms, he had shared everything with her during the weeks they were exploring the cathedral. And she had tried to save him even as he was turning away from her to listen to a demon bound to a Soulstone.
Diablo lashed at his spirit in his mind, silencing him with the brutal force of Evil and Terror. Shurvi cowered in a corner of his mind, in utter silence, feeding Diablo's cruel satisfaction with his helpless fear.
At length the demon lifted his mental heavy hand, turning his attention elsewhere, always forcing their shared body to walk, forever through the desert. They had arrived at Lut Gholein, and there the demon would find where his brother was entombed and imprisoned. Shurvi was now too scared of losing what little was left of his mind under Diablo's mental hammer, to try to resist. He watched in fear for all these people living in that city.
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Diablo found the canyon in the desert where there were seven tombs. Of course, the Lord of Terror could not mistake the prison of the Lord of Destruction for anything, and he walked confidently into the right tomb.
Shurvi willed every feet to stay where it was at each step, but with the growing proximity of another Prime Evil, his mastery over his own body was weaker and weaker. Then they reached the funeral chamber, and then he was pushed aside brutally by Baal's evil aura. Every thread of slight bond he still had with his body suddenly erupted in unspeakable pain. He screamed and screamed, body and soul, until suddenly he was evicted from his body, like a snail out of its shell. He was pushed aside by Diablo's essence as it was partly freed by Bhaal's presence. The switch of ownership of the body took only an instant, and Diablo began to grow some horns out of what had been the Wanderer's skull. Shurvi found himself still tethered to his body, although definitely banished from it, and was dragged forcibly along as Diablo walked forward in the chamber. Any witch that would have seen Diablo would have seen the banished soul tethered to it, following, obviously in pain and sad, but dispossessed of its body.
Shurvi's attention was focused in rapt terror at the bound Lord of Destruction, watching what had once been his hand come closer to the Soulstone embedded in the demon's chest. It came as a surprise when suddenly there was someone trying to stop Diablo.
Shurvi watched in awe the great Archangel battle Diablo inhabiting his body, hoping for a time that if the Archangel battled Diablo, maybe he would be free. He did not care if his body died. He wished only for freedom, and for forgiveness if he was allowed. But the Archangel lost the battle. Shurvi ached almost physically from seeing the proud creature of Light being brought down on its knees before the two Prime Evils. But he was helpless. He could do nothing else. He followed once more when the two brothers continued East, towards Kurast, to free the last imprisoned brother. Shurvi could not see Tal Rasha's banished soul, but he was sure that the Horadrim mage was condemned to the same fate as him.
He watched again as the demons reached the temple of Kurast. They spent a lot of time and took lengthy pleasure in corrupting the council, at least what Mephisto had had the thoughtfulness to leave them. The demons laughed and rejoiced as they performed their dark magics to change the orb of protection from a defence mechanism for the land of Kurast to something that would keep any righteousness at bay.
Then Diablo and Bhaal descended through the ranks of demons crowding the Durance of Hate, and reached their brother.
Shurvi had thought he was definitely separated from his body, but he nevertheless felt a searing pain as it was changed to Diablo's true, corporeal form, by Mephisto's power. Then he crossed the gate to Hell, following his body always, and found himself amidst the tortured souls of the damned. He felt no less damned than all the souls condemned to Hell, sentenced as he was to watch Diablo commit atrocities for all eternity.
He found himself thinking it was a fitting punishment for his arrogance and selfishness, that he be forced to witness the suffering of all humanity for eternity.
ooooo
Diablo started swiftly on the task given to him by his elder brother, and started to rise Hells' armies. He protected himself within a pentagram, as was his custom, and from there gave orders to his generals. Shurvi felt the bitter irony that he had broken a similar pentagram with Liria's help, to now find Diablo protected by one again, and himself trapped within.
The warrior's heart sank with every new order Diablo gave; he knew soon why the Damned were also called the Hopeless. He could cry, he could scream, he could kick at his body or Diablo that possessed it, he was simply brushed aside by the Lord of Terror, and it mattered not.
But his torment lasted a lot less long than he had expected. A few weeks later, by human standards, Diablo felt the seals being broken one after the other, and so Shurvi was made aware of it. The Lord of Terror prepared for battle. He was unspeakably furious at being defied by a mortal a second time in so little time, but he was confident nothing could beat him, Diablo, the Lord of Terror, the King of Hells, in his own sanctuary. Besides, this new nuisance of a hero would have lost a few feathers after going through Lord de Seis.
And finally, the demon was pulled out of the pentagram. Shurvi watched as Diablo emerged; the Hero facing them was a lone woman. She was wearing a gothic armour, with runes embedded in the breastplate, and wielding a staff. Some sort or another of magician, Shurvi thought with pity and sorrow, knowing she stood no chance against a physical fighter like Diablo.
But then she activated spells, among which he recognized Mana shield, and started running. Shurvi was astounded at the speed she could move, and she also had an habit of teleporting all the time, which was making things difficult for Diablo. Shurvi surveyed as each spell hitting the demon depleted his former body's strength.
He watched every single move taken by either Diablo or the lone woman, feeling as though his heart was torn each time she took a hit, and feeling cold dread each time the demon was hurt. Shurvi did not dare hope that she had a chance. Each successful spell only angered the demon. Shurvi was a seasoned warrior, but often he felt the urge to cover his eyes not to look at what the Lord of Terror would do to her if she let him get within range.
In the end, as impossibly as he had thought it possible, the demon was slain.
Shurvi looked in utter disbelief. The Hero drank a few potions and took the time to catch her breath. Shurvi saw how much she was careful, so much like Liria, and he was reminded of his missing companion. The spellcaster plucked Diablo's Soulstone from his forehead, and suddenly Shurvi was dragged back into his body. It seemed nothing was left of it but an empty shell filled with unspeakable, agonizing, numbing pain, caused by electricity, fire and blades of ice running through his hide. Shurvi drew staggering breaths, his vision darkening.
He saw the face of the spellcaster within his diminishing range of vision. She said kindly:
"You are free, Hero. He is defeated, and you are free."
He shook his head, tried to speak, but his voice was lost in a gurgle of blood. Then he tried again. "Stone…" He interrupted himself, not able to get another word out of his throat. He needed to warn her, her had to warn her against its corrupting power… If only he had listened to Liria… If only the Hero would now listen to him…
"I will destroy it," she assured him. "Be at peace, Hero," she said. And he closed his eyes, and he stopped breathing, welcoming the final release, and praying for forgiveness still.
