A/N
So apparently there's a Dark Wanderer-themed tavern brawl coming to Hearthstone as per the 20th anniversary of Diablo. Because as we all know, the last time the Dark Wanderer entered a tavern, that ended so well for everyone there. 0_0
Anyway, drabbled this up.
Turn of a Card
My days at Gadgetzan seemed so long ago. I knew that crime didn't pay, but I did it anyway. I learnt that no-one likes rhymes, and that when crime doesn't pay, you either turn up dead, or have to flee. So, I sought refuge from my memories in the company of other outcasts, high in the mountains, past the eastern gate. And in another world. Because that's a thing now.
I would fight sleep for days at a time. For when I dreamt, the memories would return. Of Naxxramas, of goblins and gnomes. Of Blackrock Mountain, explorers, a tournament grand, Karazhan itself, and whispers of the Old Gods. Whispers that stayed with me even in the waking world. Only at Gadgetzan had I broken free of its hold. Only at Gadgetzan did I say "enough."
And then I saw him. At the door, a figure in black, silhouetted against the white of the snow outside. Had the evil of my past found me? This broken shell of a man, barely able to carry the weight of his own sword, come to finish the game? In silence, I watched him cross the tavern. In silence, I saw the gaze of my past, as he sat down in front of me.
"So, Marius," said the figure, "at last I have found you. I was beginning to think that you did not wish to be found."
"Oh, forgive me," I whispered, water from my eyes reflecting the light of the tavern's fire. "It wasn't my fault."
"Not your fault?" he sneered. "Tell me Marius, how was it 'not your fault?"
"The RNG," I whispered. "The RNG turned against me…"
He sighed. "Happens to all of us," and for a moment, I dared hope that the evil would leave. That I might find salvation, and in time, sanity. But alas, as he sat there, I knew it was not to be. For from his hands, he took the testament to our doom. From his hands, he laid out a deck of cards.
"You know what must be done, mortal," he whispered.
I sighed, and picked up the cards.
The Dark Wanderer would always find me. Always bind me to my fate, ensure that the source of my madness remained strong. My fate, and his fate, were in the hands of the cards.
For the Wanderer would never stop playing Hearthstone.