Larry and his faithful sidekick barbarian type named Larry, whose name was actually pronounced Laury stood alongside their hired mercenary Bablo, who was quite adept at handling offensive magicks. Larry the Paladin still couldn't believe he had been outwitted at a contest of legs with so manly a woman. He would never forget her name; flashes of her face, gruesome to look upon; Jarsicore, the dragon-man haunted his dreams. He swore an oath never to forget what had transpired so long ago, when he faced her invitation of brotherhood, he had accepted, only to be stabbed in the back when the question of treasure arose.

"Ah hem." He cleared his throat, bringing himself back to reality. They stood on the docks of Kurast, the murky water bubbling below them with some awful smell lingering in the air from collapsed air pockets escaping from the depths of the goop below.

Larry, his ever faithful barbarian type sidekick looked at him quizzically. Usually his paladin friend would only ever clear his throat when he had something terribly important to say, this was not the case now. Instead of say anything, which Larry pronounced Laury had found difficult to do at times, well, at any time, he looked down at his weapon, a large battleaxe which he usually wielded in two hands, though now was almost limp in his hand. He didn't know what was to come next; generally he relied on Larry to make such decisions.

The mercenary Bablo, like Larry, Larry's faithful barbarian type sidekick, never really said anything. Well, ever. You can imagine just how insane this would cause a man to go. Journeying around, always with at least one person, but only ever hearing his own voice while slaying beasts? It was enough to make one go mad. And, well, Larry the paladin really wasn't exempt from this rule. He every now and then would make large sum purchases of unidentified jewels and items, usually belts, which would turn out to be of less value than he had bought them for. He also spoke to himself as though there were others listening into his conversations, so most of the time he spoke in a low, reserved voice.

Larry strode forward, and ignored the man, Mashif, who had brought them to Kurast. He instead went over a bridge to the "main", he guessed, part of town. He locked eyes with a rather tall, dark man, and went to greet him.

"You now speak to Ormus." The man said, whose name was obviously Ormus, as Larry discovered he spoke in the third person, something which Larry's faithful sidekick barbarian type found both amusing, and disturbing. He demonstrated said amused state with a high-pitched laughter, resembling that of a small girl. Larry looked over at his sidekick type Larry and raised an eyebrow, clearly shocked that so grown and, well, overbuilt a man could sound so uncharacteristically feminine.

The sidekick barbarian type simply grinned, then blushed, then turned away, holding his battleaxe upright across his chest, probably to protect what remaining dignity he had.

"Ah hem." Larry repeated. The barbarian type sidekick thought he had regained his composure, and turned back to Larry the paladin, his cheeks still rosier than normal. Bablo, their magical mercenary also looked at Larry, his usual blank look encompassing his face. Larry the barbarian, whose name was pronounced Laury looked at Larry the paladin, momentarily confused, then over to Bablo the magical, before turning again to Larry.

"Well," Larry the paladin began, completely ignoring Ormus now, "I guess we're just going to have to venture into the marshes with no knowledge of what we are about to do." He finished. Larry his sidekick barbarian type nodded his approval; the magical mercenary Bablo simply gave both of them that glazed over look, letting them know he was all right with anything they wanted to do, even if it meant putting his very life in danger. Even if it meant Larry and Larry abandoning him to certain death, pushing him to the limits, forcing him to use his powers against a greater enemy than he had before seen. Even if they would completely forget about him in the midst of the marsh and leave him to be eaten by large man-eating frogs, or crushed by large rock, man-crushing rocks.

Larry's faithful, but feminine, barbarian sidekick type nodded more aggressively now, and not long after beginning the aggressiveness injured his chin on the blade of his battleaxe, and once he realized what he had unintentionally done, held onto his chin with one gloved hand, and with the other, held his axe.

Larry the paladin simply shook his head, looked to Ormus, the third person speaking man, and then started past him, a strange building that reminded him of a pyramid, and then on past Decard Cain and his personal stash. He paused, testing his foot on the first wooden panel of the bridge, which led out of town. He licked his lips, then attempted and failed at snapping a finger for his mercenary to step forward.

"I cannot risk losing my faithful barbarian sidekick. He has been with me for far too long for me to sacrifice him here. Bablo, my magical mercenary, come forward."
Larry, his almost inhumanly faithful sidekick seemed not to link his name with the word 'sacrifice' and thought nothing of it. Instead he shed a tear, wiped it away with his bloodied glove, which effectively allowed the blood from his glove to seep into his eye. He howled mechanically in pain, hopped about for a few moments and calmed back down, watching Bablo begin forward on the bridge.

Minutes later, after Larry the paladin had followed very slowly, and very cautiously after Larry, his sidekick whose name is pronounced Laury only to confuse readers and make it difficult for the writer to talk about him, they finally arrived on the other side of the bridge. Bablo the mercenary had waited patiently for Larry and Larry, and didn't flinch when a strange wanderer dressed in a long, billowing tan robe, in front of him vanished in a puff of smoke and small bright lights, leaving behind an overflowing handful of small slug-like monsters.

Larry, the tall, dark skinned, handsome and well-built man, instantly began to retch at the sight of these strange slug-like demons. Bablo didn't give him a first glance, and Larry the barbarian didn't give him a second glance. Instead of doing what they didn't, the simply began hacking at the little guys. Well, Bablo, rather than hacking, cast some of his spells, freezing the slugs in time, then exploding them from the inside, insuring slug guts on everyone within a twenty foot radius. This made Larry's retching twice as worse.

They moved through the marshes with ease. Well, with as much ease as three low level men in the class of "fighters" can move through a large unmapped marsh full of demons. So, with less ease than previously stated.

They slashed through giant spiders of strange hues, killed large electrifying bats, burst some small tribesmen into blood and gore and beat up on some small children.

All right, well, they didn't hurt any small children, but the rest is true.

"I don't like the looks of this place…" Larry paced slowly back and forth, not looking down at his ridiculous partners in demon slashing. Larry, the barbarian who had followed Larry since arriving at the Rogue Encampment, was sitting in the lotus position, meditating. His battleaxe sat on the ground in front of him, and would occasionally glow an off red every time Larry would hum. It was beginning to get on Larry the paladin's nerves, because it wasn't like a catchy tune he was humming, but it was more of one note, which he repeated over and over again.

Bablo on the other hand was standing, looking back and forth in a kind of dance with his head. It was as though he was swing dancing, but without using any other part of his body than his head. It was somewhat irritating, and Larry found he was rather fond of the strange man, and wouldn't mind joining him. No! That's not how he felt. He was focusing on how irritating they were, trying to build up a rage, but then again, trying to send a prayer up to his god in his heart. He was unsuccessful in both short aspirations.

So there they sat, stood, and paced.

"Well, you boys look bored." Someone said, and Larry started. Surely it couldn't be… He turned to face her.

He knew he would see her again soon. He found a strange attachment to this manish woman.

"Jarsicore. We meet again." He said, taking a step towards her.

"Yes, indeed we do. So, are you boys planning on going inside?" She said, motioning with her hand towards the large structure, which they sat in front of. Or, one could say, on the front steps of.

"No. Well, we were waiting." He talked himself into silence. He hated doing that, it wasn't fitting a man of his stature.

"Uh huh. Right." She said, raising the left side of her one eyebrow. Or, one could say, uni-brow. She scratched at her unshaven chin and looked down at Larry, the one who was meditating.
"Is he medi-" Larry cut her off. "Yes, yes, my faithful sidekick is meditating. So shh!"
"Are you waiting for him?" she asked, somewhat surprised. She wouldn't expect something like this from Larry the paladin. She had learnt too much about him on their previous adventure together.

Larry the paladin thought quickly.
"Yes, we are waiting for him. Now, if you'll please refrain from speaking." He said quietly.

The three of them had made their way down into the chamber in which one finds Mephisto, one of the three great evils of the age. Larry the barbarian was still tearing up at the very thought of their magician-like companion as he had fallen over a long dead corpse and was poisoned. They left him to slowly die; it was Larry the paladin's decision; he wanted to appear manly before the ever-manish dragon-man Jarsicore, while his faithful sidekick didn't know if he could ever forgive or continue with Larry after this campaign.

They blew through the enemies surrounding their main target thanks to Jarsicore's unheard of man strength. Finally they faced Mephisto.

"Ahahaha! You are too late!" He blared at them, much like a foghorn. His voice was enough to peel the skin away from their eyelids, but it didn't, thankfully. Larry and Jarsicore took him in the front, while Larry the barbarian, the true muscle of the group, unleashed his rage. He had been holding it in since his comrade was left to die a slow and horrible death. Mephisto was stabbed in the back more than once, well, more than twelve or so times. Blood oozed and gushed from his wound and spattered Larry the barbarians' face and hands, his armor wasn't going to be cheap to clean this time, that's for sure.

"Ahhh!" Mephisto let out a true bloodcurdling scream, his fists clenched in rage as he glared at the ceiling, shouting obscenities and inane babble, before finally ascending through to another plane of existence. As a side note, it probably wasn't a good one, and the scream did actually curdle the blood he had let out, and Jarsicore was game in trying it on a roll of dough she had brought with her, which actually had small flecks of green, black, and white on it.

Larry watched her closely and found she was growing on him, much like the mould was growing on her bit of dough. Then he looked around.

"Hmm, that's strange."
"What is?" Jarsicore asked, her mouth full of curdled blood on raw mouldy dough.

"I've heard folklore… Mephisto and the other two great evils are said to drop unnamed treasures and gold more pure than this." He pulled out a gold piece and tossed it into the air before catching it.

Larry the barbarian began searching the corpse, to no avail, and they soon stood alone, Larry the barbarian and Larry the paladin. Larry the growingly dark skinned paladin turned and looked about him.
"Well, no Jarsicore. Isn't that a shocker." He said, already used to, and getting sick of her disappearing acts.
Larry the paladin motioned towards Larry, now completely drenched in blood, gore covering him from helmeted head to steel toed foot, and Larry followed after him. A bridge of a collection of bones and organs rose to meet them. Larry looked at his sidekick Larry for a moment, and Larry the barbarian shook his head in contempt for Larry, the increasingly annoying, and cowardly paladin, and walked forward on the bridge, then into the portal at the small island it led to in the midst of the river of blood.

Larry shivered and slowly, cautiously followed after. Besides, what was wrong with being careful? He could lose his life if he were careless.

"Jarsicore! I demand you give me what is rightfully mine!" Larry yelled, as Larry the barbarian stooped over his stash, depositing his savings.
"Alright, turn around then." Jarsicore said simply.

Believing she would drop the treasure and then continue on her way without him looking, he did turn around. And then she kicked him in the butt. He fell flat on his face, and was out of it.

He woke up, feeling a damp cloth against his forehead.
"Oh Jarsicore…" He said romantically, grasping the hand, which held the cloth, and lifting his lips up to meet hers.
Whoever it was dropped the cloth and shoved Larry away from them.

"Wha! Larry? What are you doing?" He couldn't help but yell, drawing absolutely no strange looks from passersby.

"Oh, never mind, you don't speak anyway." He sat up, feeling for his backside.

"You know what Larry?"
"What now?" He turned angrily to Larry, then paused and narrowed his eyes, then stared at him, wide eyed. "Did you just… I mean, I think I heard you say some-"
Larry cut him off. "I'm done with being your faithful sidekick barbarian Larry. You've hurt me too many times, and I'm not going to put up with it anymore." Larry seemed to have adopted Larry the paladin's English accent. The barbarian then got up, picked up his battleaxe, and walked out of the town's front gate, heading towards, Larry could only assume, Diablo himself.

Larry couldn't believe it. So much so, that he just collapsed back down to the ground, his head pounding against the cement.