Author's Note: This is my first piece of fiction I've written in over a year, and my first actual fanfiction in over four. I'd appreciate feedback. Constructive criticism is welcome, but flaming is not.

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo II or any of its characters / places / monsters / etc. I only own the characters I have created.

Chapter One

It was the worst storm they had seen in years.

Everyone in the Rogue Encampment sought shelter from the rain, which came down in thick sheets and left no corner untouched. Water ran off the roofs of the wooden huts, creating a moving curtain in front of the entrances. It soaked through the shoddy canvas tents that were pitched at the last minute in an attempt to stay dry. Angry thunder boomed, and lightning flashed across the sky like a million tiny fissures in the clouds. Grass was flattened, and the livestock huddled closely in groups to stay warm. Even the great bonfire in the dead center of the encampment was reduced to coals. Cold wind bit through the thin tunics of the villagers, who scrambled to cover their valuables with anything they could find. Then they all clustered underneath their shelters and prayed for the rain to end.

All, except one.

Arms outstretched, she stood alone in the middle of the encampment, hood pulled back and face towards the clouds. Her eyes were closed and her lips curled into a smile. She reveled in the rain; it brought forth a strange sense of delight to feel the water cascading through her thick brown hair and over her body. Some of the shivering villagers looked on in disgust, others in awe. But she didn't notice. Un-wavered by the elements, she stood proud like a monumental statue in the middle of the encampment. At that moment, she was the only person in the world.

It wasn't long before the rain soaked through her bright purple robes and chilled her to the bone. Her lips started to quiver as she let the wind blow open her robes, revealing a form-fitting golden breastplate and tight leather pants. Even though she was shivering from the cold, she couldn't seem to go inside. The rain was too pleasant and soothing, and she could've enjoyed it forever.

She felt an arm on her shoulder, and was jolted out of her reverie. She jumped and turned around, frowning at the man in front of her.

"Come, Akara," the man said, wrapping his shawl around her. "Get inside, quickly. You'll catch the deathly cold if you stay out here any longer."

Blinking her green eyes, Akara quickly came to her senses and hugged tightly into the shawl. "Oh…" she replied. "Warriv, inside, yes. I don't know what came over me. The rain was just so…" she looked up and briefly closed her eyes again, "captivating."

Warriv smiled, leading her back to her own hut. "I know, Priestess, but it's not safe for you to be out here for too long. If something should happen to you…" he trailed off, preferring not to think about life in the encampment without her.

The High Priestess of the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye stepped into her hut, followed by Warriv, and the onlookers went back about their business. She pulled across a dark curtain that barely covered the entrance, so they'd have a bit of privacy. The fire burning in the center of the hut flooded the hut with much-needed warmth, and Akara was never more grateful for it. Shelves lined the walls of the hut, filled with dozens upon dozens of potions of every size and color. A large chest full of small scrolls, wrapped in red and blue ribbon, sat in the corner like some sort of scorned child.

Akara wrung out her hair while Warriv took a seat on a wooden stool. "You worry way too much," she commented as she removed her violet robes. She hung them up near the fire to dry and sat down next to the caravan owner, who was already shirtless and in the midst of pouring up some ale for Akara and himself.

"I'm concerned for your safety, Akara," he replied as he down his ale in one gulp, and was now pouring himself a second. "Now that you're the High Priestess, you have a great responsibility to these people. Your protection spells over this encampment are the only things stopping Diablo and his hordes of demons from terrorizing our townsfolk. And you should know better than anyone that the barriers are directly connected to your life force. If you should fall ill, they will weaken and we'll be more vulnerable to attack. And not to mention," he smiled as he put a rough hand on her velvet face, "I don't know what I'd do with myself if I didn't have you."

Emerald met chestnut as their eyes locked. Akara blushed and took his hand in hers, their fingers playfully intertwining. She picked up the chalice with her free hand and sipped on the ale Warriv had poured for her. "You're too good to me, Warriv," she gushed as they shared a light kiss.

Outside, another round of thunder boomed and the clouds coughed up a few more bolts of lightning. The rain didn't fall as hard as it did earlier, but it still pummeled Akara's hut left, right and center.


Little did they know, Warriv and Akara were being watched.

A pair of curious blue eyes peered across the encampment and into the Priestess' hut. Those eyes flared brightly with anticipation as they watched the two elders getting closer through the small opening of the entrance that the curtain was too small to cover, and widened excitedly as they witnessed the kiss that wasn't meant to be seen.

Those eyes belonged to a young rogue scout named Kyra. At just sixteen, she was the youngest scout to be personally chosen by Kashya to fight against the Lord of Terror and his minions. She had proven her skills many times over during her training; she was quick on her feet and had immaculate aim.

But, as most sixteen year old girls, Kyra was very curious. It often got her in trouble with her elders, whether they caught her snooping around the plains outside the encampment by herself, or if they found her at a meeting she was not supposed to attend.

This time, however, the young rogue sat atop a giant oaken chest in the rogues' barracks with her chin resting in her palms, gazing intently at the two lovers in the far corner of the encampment. The front of her brown tunic was still damp from the rain, but the heat from the fire behind her dried her back. Even through the curtain covering the opening of the hut, Kyra could make out the shapes of Warriv and the Priestess sharing an intimate moment together. She wondered what it was like to have someone who loved her as much as she loved them. It must be the best feeling in the world, she thought.

"You know, it's not polite to stare," said a voice from behind.

Kyra's heart jumped up in her throat. How could she have not noticed her mentor approach her? Kashya scared the daylights out of Kyra, but the rogue wasn't about to let her know that. Composing herself, she glanced nonchalantly sideways as Kashya stood beside her. Her heart was beating in overtime and cold sweat beaded on her forehead, but as far as she could tell, the rogue commander didn't seem to notice.

"I wasn't staring, commander," Kyra replied as she stood up and stretched. "I was just watching the entrance for any signs of Diablo's horde. I have to be on my guard at all times, isn't that what you taught us, commander?" It was a blatant lie, and Kashya knew it.

"I wonder what the High Priestess would have to say if she knew that a young rogue scout was spying on her in private." Kashya turned toward her, her flaming red hair tied in a ponytail and piercing gray eyes fixed on Kyra with a cold gaze. "Do you think she would be pleased?" she asked condescendingly.

The young rogue looked to the ground in front of her, ashamed to have been chastised by her superior. "No, commander," she spoke softly.

"No, commander, what?"

Sighing, Kyra finished. "No, commander, the High Priestess would not be pleased."

Kashya smiled slightly and nodded. "That's better," she said. "And, you're right. You have to be on your guard." She paused, emphasizing, "at all times." She turned away and walked to the fire, stopping halfway. "I'm sorry for scaring you like that, but had I been an enemy, you would have been dead where you stand. You still have much to learn, Kyra."

Kyra sighed again. How could she have been so careless? Kashya was right. Had the commander been one of Diablo's demons, she would've been slaughtered right then and there. Grabbing her longbow and quiver, she briefly looked back to Akara's hut, but the two lovers were out of sight. She decided to make true the lie she had told Kashya, and began scanning the entrance to the encampment for any sign of approaching demons.

She still had much to learn.