A/N: Hey everyone! It's been a while since I've done this sort of thing, so bear with me if sometimes it gets too long or too short. This story is for Diablo 3, since it's like... My childhood. Anyway, it'll be following the story of Diablo 3 in terms of most dialogue and quests, but there will be a lot of variation. So my plot is basically set out- but it's set to revolve around the Male Wizard and Lyndon the scoundrel. It'll be slightly slow moving at first. But most stories are. Anyway, feedback is appreciated!
Disclaimer: I don't own Diablo 3, or it's characters. I wish I did.
Warnings for...: later soft/heavy-ish M/M (more lovey than hot and heavy), blood, and plenty of violence
Prologue
Tristram. Town of many stories, and home of many evils. It came to pass that over the span of the last decade much evil crept its way to the surface of the small established seat. It likely held no more than fifty to one hundred people at a time. Since The Lord of Destruction wrought havoc upon the ruins of Tristram, and even beyond, there was scarce a time that anyone in Sanctuary would ever rest peacefully through the nights.
Though Diablo had not been seen for some 20 years, all were uneasy. Especially once New Tristram had been built. The name alone spelt mischief for the small town. Not to mention the World Stone's destruction- and Mount Arreat along with it- was for the rest of the world to bear. Though no harm came for some time, the long anticipated chaos soon came.
The star fell from the heavens, destroying the cathedral with it. As pieces from the meteorite broke off, misery rose from the ashes the craters left.
The dead- the dead rose from their graves. Angry and vengeful. The town had immediately barricaded itself away from the rest of the world desperate to survive... And yet a hero, as every time Tristram was troubled, stood up among all others to rescue them. If not for their benefit, his own...
The stage of his awaited prophecy was set, and he believed himself the main character. He who sought to be a crucible of knowledge was to take on the challenge of Tristram, just as many before him had. The cycle was readied to begin again.
However, all fate is set.
All destiny written.
Correct?
Chapter one: Trembling Heart
"At a young age, I had been told that I was special. A protégée with vast potential. I came to the Ashani Sanctum, seeking what knowledge I could from the masters... But I found that they were fearful of the truth. I would learn nothing from them. But the old books, and the prophecies they contained, showed me all that might come to pass, and all that I might become. Then, a star fell from the heavens, the sign. That my moment had come. I will go west to Tristram. To stop the darkness it foretells, and fulfill the destiny that beckons me..."
Such then had the wizards journey begun. The sanctum was, expectedly, quite a ways away from Tristram. However just as he came from Caldeum on a long journey, he was prepared for this one. Wand at one side, and open empty hand at his other, he wove his way through the dense forest that surrounded the cursed town.
Once finding the path that had been blocked by an overgrowth of roots and other shrubbery, he knocked it out of the way with a purple bolt of arcane power and ducked through onto the downhill sloping path. He noticed, not too far, was an undead that he'd heard rumor of. A cart just of to the side of that.
"This place reeks of the dead. The fallen star must be near." He said to himself, casting the spell he'd used all the same to move the debris out of his way to vanquish the walking dead.
A horde crowded around an unfortunate victim near the end of the path. The wizard caught a good number of them off guard, and the ones who managed to come close to being ready were quickly finished off because of the distance between them. The path they blocked lead down to the barricaded gates, were many corpses lay strewn about, and a guard stood waiting. The Mage approached him.
"Prophecy sent me in search of the star that fell upon this land." He informed, as if a traveling merchant ready to dump goods.
"It fell on the old cathedral," the guard informed. "There was only one survivor, Leah, you should speak with her-" before he could continue, a guard standing with him cut the conversation out.
"Captain Rumford, more dead are coming!" He exclaimed, as they began to crawl and claw their way our of the ground and the brush behind them.
"We can't open the gates until we drive them back!" The captain told the wizard as they came at them with horrid sounds and gargles.
"Well then we'll have to do just that," he said. Not in the least bit worried or irate, he turned to face the small number of corpses lumbering towards him. They didn't even reach him before they'd been dispatched.
"They keep com-... ing... I-I've never seen anyone fight like that before!" The captain said, a bit astounded. He wasn't lying- he hadn't. "Er- open up the gates. You'll find her at the Slaughtered Calf inn." He fumbled as the wizard ran past him.
"What a wholesomely inviting name for a place to rest." The man muttered as he hurried by frantic citizens and into the building.
Many lay ill on the other side of the room as he approached the only woman there who didn't seem a huddling mess.
"Are you Leah? Rumford said you'd survived the fallen star."
"I did. But it blasted my uncle, Deckard Cain into the depths of the old cathedral... I tried to search for him, but the dead were already rising."
"I see... More information is welcome, but I didn't exactly ask as far as that. I suppose it doesn't matter."
"Well, I came back here to rally the militia but-" the men, quivering and ill, began to scream, and bile forced its way from their rotting throats a as they immediately turned.
"Look out! They're turning!" Leah cried, grasping for her bow and letting off a few arrows into the freshly turned. The wizard spared not a moment attacking them, and soon actual corpses were all around. Leah set her bow down and slumped onto a bar stool, panting.
"This is killing business" the owner complained. The wizard shot him a glare.
"Your dead companions are rising and the top concern to you is business?" He magic caster snapped. The owner said nothing. Leah cut in.
"The dead will overwhelm us if we don't do something soon."
"I will do all in my power to keep that from happening."
"Thank you..." She sighed and stood. "You should speak with Captain Rumford at the gate. He can tell you what to do."
He nodded to her and set off quickly to speak to the men he'd assisted before. The air was... Very dead. It was cold, enough to pass his skin and into his bones. Even into his own soul. It was almost frightening.
"What can I do to help you fight the risen dead?" The wizards voice cut through the thick cold. Rumford jumped slightly.
"I admire your courage, but Captain Dolton and the militia were slaughtered by those things!" He seemed insistent. Desperate. A man with such power could help Tristram, but he'd be no good dead.
"And I can assure you, I know for certain I won't be dying today." The Mage said firmly.
"Well I have seen you fight... Perhaps you could start with the wretched mothers and their queen- the dead that haven't already turned are pulled from their graves by them! Others turned by the hatred that spews from their gums."
"Of course-"
"They're attacking the barricades!" Cried a soldier standing guard. Wood and the remaining bits of a rotting cart crumbled apart as one of the wretched mothers herself, and a few fresh corpses, clawed and pushed at the barricade. Their allied wizard grasped his wand tightly, firing off large blots of starry purple energy at the beings. The wretched mother proved a slight challenge, but with a beam of frost from the mage's fingertips, she was frozen in place, and Captain Rumford shattered her still body with a mighty blow.
"HRRAGH!" His sword clanged to the ground after he'd swung.
"That's... One of the wretched mothers... There are more of them in the ruins down the road there," he panted, gesturing down the way with a flop of his hand.
"You stay and set the barricades once more. I will take care of these miserable things." The wizard set off at a brisk jog down the path, and none too soon was he confronted with the cold, and the empty feeling of his heart. He was unsure what it was- it was not that cold outside. He was actually rather warm in the doublet he wore. "This is so... Strange," he uttered quietly, his brisk stride crunching over fallen leaves. It came over him as soon as he'd taken it upon himself to find the fallen star. Wherever he went- warm or cold- his soul shivered.
He thought, however, the closer he'd been to Tristram, the less he was chilled.
Tristram, or maybe a quest tied to Tristram, was something he had to do. If not for them, if not for himself, then for his soul.