====Diablo 2 and Lord of Destruction (and all character classes) do not belong to me.====
"I still remember that day, the time in which I broke the void between Heaven and Hell, linked the human world to that of the netherworld. The fresh imprint of the sun's glare upon my cheeks and blood-scorn face as I emerged from that god-forsaken cathedral. Lazarus, the traitor; Diablo, the Lord of Terror; none of held meaning anymore. I had forded through the rivers of Hell itself, and who is to say that I would not do it again?
"The action still haunts me. Something, someone, told me to take that crystal shard and plunge it deep into my head. Fool, I was such a fool to do so. I should have known that no man's will could handle such a daunting task. But I was blinded; my eyes stung with an ever-increasing pride of having defeat the Lord of Terror in a single bout. Aye, that pride was so great, it pulsed in my heart and drove itself into my mind. It was just that that left me open to the final onslaught of Diablo's true power. He willed me to do it.
"I held the glimmering crystal before me. Its crimson luster seemed to reflect the countless rivers of blood that were produced in the village of Tristram, the small town that I had saved. 'Twas captivating. No mortal could have resisted its gleam and brilliant, yet corrupted, beauty. The shrap tip bit into my cranium, but I strove forward until the entire shard was embedded into my forehead. Miracously, it seemed as if the wound has healed itself in a matter of moments. Removing my worn and tattered gloves, I reached up and brushed two fingers along the scar. No blood was present. It amazed me, yet also held no value to me. At that time, I thought I had conquered what no man could have done.
"The roar of the people was deafening. They were celebrating my return, but more the 'defeat' of the terrible demon lord. Countless pairs of eyes were upon me, but one held a gaze so strong, it burned my flesh. Turning to look, I saw him. That elder Horadrim, what did he want? Behind those folds of skin were eyes that reflected wisdom beyond comparison. He knew something, yes, he knew what was to become of me. Yet he hid it all in a feigned smile. I knew it, he knew it. This was not the last of Diablo.
"Words could not describe the grotesque features I saw in that abadoned ruin. The stench of evil was toxic. King Leoric, the succubi, those infernal Blood Knights. None held a candle to what was to come.
"A depression was boring its way into my soul, consuming it. There I sat on the outer rim of the small estate the village had granted me, but I did not care. Not one bit of it mattered. In a way, I knew the destruction of Tristram was near. My thoughts were interrupted by the kind soul of Griswold. Oh, Griswold, you dillusional fool. You forge weapons meant to sanctify the world, yet they will only be used for the better of evil.
"I saw that little boy Wirt hobble by on his peg leg. Shame that he escaped the cathedral only to face death once more. Except, this time, he would not make it through. No, God had forsaken me the minute I stepped over that threshold. When He saw that scar upon my head, He turned away from me. I was alone, or at least I wished I was.
"It was an absolutely unnecessary celebration. They should have run while they had the chance. Instead, I would have to take the evil far away from them, if only I did not leave a trail of terror behind me. It was night, the moon was basking the village in its ghostly day, I looked up at it until a pounding agony was produced in my head. It was escaping. Leaking into my body, mind, and soul. I heard myself babble ancient languages. It held no meaning, yet at the same time, I understood the mindless jabber clearly. Deckard Cain's voice was faint. I looked up to see a panicked expression wash across his face. He stumbled back, then offered to help me.
"I laughed, and what a horrendous guffaw that was. Imbucile, could he not see what I had become? This is your terror, Tristram. Now that Diablo had found a host, he would take over slowly. He would usurp my body; I had to get out.
"The next morning, I fled. Ran without a goal, without a purpose, just needed to get away from that doomed town. I had to get away from it all...
"I am coming, my brothers."
"So, that's how it started," a low voice trembled in the biting freeze of the tent.
Tirzah shook her head, "It was a great shame, he went all that way for nothing."
The sorceress stood up and proceeded to take a wool blanket from a large, oaken chest. Her umber eyes flashed around the tent, its occupants all shivered in winter's maw. They had been in Harrogath for nary a week, but the mountain's environ was already befalling them.
"We will have to get moving sometime, the final evil is growing stronger as we speak," the voice replied.
She looked to the originator, a hefty barbarian. He had told her that he went by the name of Lapidoth. Tirzah had thought it to be an odd name from the start, but much to her surprise, the barbarian countered with a comment of her own name. A smile played across her lips as she thought of what had happened before. How they had met in the Rogue's Encampment and joined up with an Amazon and Assasin pair. Later, in Kurast, they had expanded their ranks with a Necromancer (which Lapidoth seemed thoroughly afraid of) and a Paladin. 'An odd pair, they were,' Tirzah thought. Suddenly, she remembered what time frame she was in, "Well then, let us get going."
Lapidoth smirked and got up. His well-muscled chest was a somewhat pleasing sight to Tirzah, but she made no show of it. Promptly, he tossed on his armor. It seemed so easy for him, the large gothic plate was slipped on as if it were a simply tailored woolen shirt. The sorceress, on the other hand, wore light armor, which was very much sufficient considering that her main defense (and offense) was her magic.
The couple made their way to the town's gate. The head iron grating was an imposing sight, but both knew that it was not enough to keep the demons back. Lapidoth nodded to the gatekeeper who lifted the giant structure obediantly. Stepping out, the loud boom and following tremor caused Tirzah to turn around. The gate had fallen into its place once more and left them with only one way to go now.
"I still remember that day, the time in which I broke the void between Heaven and Hell, linked the human world to that of the netherworld. The fresh imprint of the sun's glare upon my cheeks and blood-scorn face as I emerged from that god-forsaken cathedral. Lazarus, the traitor; Diablo, the Lord of Terror; none of held meaning anymore. I had forded through the rivers of Hell itself, and who is to say that I would not do it again?
"The action still haunts me. Something, someone, told me to take that crystal shard and plunge it deep into my head. Fool, I was such a fool to do so. I should have known that no man's will could handle such a daunting task. But I was blinded; my eyes stung with an ever-increasing pride of having defeat the Lord of Terror in a single bout. Aye, that pride was so great, it pulsed in my heart and drove itself into my mind. It was just that that left me open to the final onslaught of Diablo's true power. He willed me to do it.
"I held the glimmering crystal before me. Its crimson luster seemed to reflect the countless rivers of blood that were produced in the village of Tristram, the small town that I had saved. 'Twas captivating. No mortal could have resisted its gleam and brilliant, yet corrupted, beauty. The shrap tip bit into my cranium, but I strove forward until the entire shard was embedded into my forehead. Miracously, it seemed as if the wound has healed itself in a matter of moments. Removing my worn and tattered gloves, I reached up and brushed two fingers along the scar. No blood was present. It amazed me, yet also held no value to me. At that time, I thought I had conquered what no man could have done.
"The roar of the people was deafening. They were celebrating my return, but more the 'defeat' of the terrible demon lord. Countless pairs of eyes were upon me, but one held a gaze so strong, it burned my flesh. Turning to look, I saw him. That elder Horadrim, what did he want? Behind those folds of skin were eyes that reflected wisdom beyond comparison. He knew something, yes, he knew what was to become of me. Yet he hid it all in a feigned smile. I knew it, he knew it. This was not the last of Diablo.
"Words could not describe the grotesque features I saw in that abadoned ruin. The stench of evil was toxic. King Leoric, the succubi, those infernal Blood Knights. None held a candle to what was to come.
"A depression was boring its way into my soul, consuming it. There I sat on the outer rim of the small estate the village had granted me, but I did not care. Not one bit of it mattered. In a way, I knew the destruction of Tristram was near. My thoughts were interrupted by the kind soul of Griswold. Oh, Griswold, you dillusional fool. You forge weapons meant to sanctify the world, yet they will only be used for the better of evil.
"I saw that little boy Wirt hobble by on his peg leg. Shame that he escaped the cathedral only to face death once more. Except, this time, he would not make it through. No, God had forsaken me the minute I stepped over that threshold. When He saw that scar upon my head, He turned away from me. I was alone, or at least I wished I was.
"It was an absolutely unnecessary celebration. They should have run while they had the chance. Instead, I would have to take the evil far away from them, if only I did not leave a trail of terror behind me. It was night, the moon was basking the village in its ghostly day, I looked up at it until a pounding agony was produced in my head. It was escaping. Leaking into my body, mind, and soul. I heard myself babble ancient languages. It held no meaning, yet at the same time, I understood the mindless jabber clearly. Deckard Cain's voice was faint. I looked up to see a panicked expression wash across his face. He stumbled back, then offered to help me.
"I laughed, and what a horrendous guffaw that was. Imbucile, could he not see what I had become? This is your terror, Tristram. Now that Diablo had found a host, he would take over slowly. He would usurp my body; I had to get out.
"The next morning, I fled. Ran without a goal, without a purpose, just needed to get away from that doomed town. I had to get away from it all...
"I am coming, my brothers."
"So, that's how it started," a low voice trembled in the biting freeze of the tent.
Tirzah shook her head, "It was a great shame, he went all that way for nothing."
The sorceress stood up and proceeded to take a wool blanket from a large, oaken chest. Her umber eyes flashed around the tent, its occupants all shivered in winter's maw. They had been in Harrogath for nary a week, but the mountain's environ was already befalling them.
"We will have to get moving sometime, the final evil is growing stronger as we speak," the voice replied.
She looked to the originator, a hefty barbarian. He had told her that he went by the name of Lapidoth. Tirzah had thought it to be an odd name from the start, but much to her surprise, the barbarian countered with a comment of her own name. A smile played across her lips as she thought of what had happened before. How they had met in the Rogue's Encampment and joined up with an Amazon and Assasin pair. Later, in Kurast, they had expanded their ranks with a Necromancer (which Lapidoth seemed thoroughly afraid of) and a Paladin. 'An odd pair, they were,' Tirzah thought. Suddenly, she remembered what time frame she was in, "Well then, let us get going."
Lapidoth smirked and got up. His well-muscled chest was a somewhat pleasing sight to Tirzah, but she made no show of it. Promptly, he tossed on his armor. It seemed so easy for him, the large gothic plate was slipped on as if it were a simply tailored woolen shirt. The sorceress, on the other hand, wore light armor, which was very much sufficient considering that her main defense (and offense) was her magic.
The couple made their way to the town's gate. The head iron grating was an imposing sight, but both knew that it was not enough to keep the demons back. Lapidoth nodded to the gatekeeper who lifted the giant structure obediantly. Stepping out, the loud boom and following tremor caused Tirzah to turn around. The gate had fallen into its place once more and left them with only one way to go now.