Diablo 2: Visions of You (Chapter 1)
By Amethyst Haze (amethyst_haze@hotmail.com)
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Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo II, its concepts, its designs or anything else related to it. Those are the property of Blizzard Entertainment, this story is simply a non-profit tribute and parody. This story is Rated R for moments of sexual content, offensive language and violence.
Amethyst Haze's comments: If this story sounds EXTREMELY familiar to you.... then you've read the original fanfic as the NC-17 version when it was under my old pen name. I will not be writing like that anymore. Also, you might want to have read through "Longing to be with you" first since Visions of You is the second in that series. :P
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What next?
The question still echoed in the depths of his mind as he leaned back on the tattered and velvet pillow of a murky sky blue. His pale blue eyes watched as the candle's flame of the lantern danced in the cargo room of the Lut Gholein transport ship, Encantadora, as it sailed away towards Kurast.
His thoughts turned back to the beautiful auburn haired woman he loved so much. Alys... he thought to himself leaning back against the pillows with a sigh. It seemed like only a week ago, instead of six months, that he was kissing her, holding her tightly and smiling every time she said, "I love you, Ferrum."
Ferrum pushed his meal, which remained only as chicken bones now, away from him and glanced over to the corner adjacent to him, still far from the door. Perched on a crate was a buff-looking barbarian, sharpening his axe with rough motions of a rock. Ferrum winced. He hated that sound, it made the blonde hair on his body stand on end. The whole time they had been in this room, he had not one word. He had the conversational skills of a deaf-mute.
Turning around to dig into the leather satchels he had laid back upon, he untied its strings. His fingers brushed glass bottles. Nope. He opened another, this time feeling bits of dried herbs. Nope.
A knock on the door disturbed his thoughts. "What?" he greeted the knock, not bothering to turn around.
***
Swinging the heavy door open, he peered into the room. His green eyes darted from the crates to the bags and the rope nets dangling from the ceiling before redundantly asking. "Is this one of the cargo rooms?"
"No," the blonde-haired man with his back turned answered.
The thick orange eyebrow furrowed slightly. Did he just hear a faint trace of sarcasm? "Oh... ok." He glanced at the royal blue cloak draped around the blonde's shoulders and then at the barbarian sitting in the shadows of the corner.
"Oh, shit, sorry," the druid apologized..He quickly closed the door and set out in search of the cargo room despite the nagging feeling in the back of his head that he was being played for a fool.
Ferrum would've laughed had the quiet and moody barbarian was not present. Glancing over to the silent barbarian, he saw a slight twitch on the corner of his mouths as he lifted a wine goblet to his thin lips. Another wine-filled goblet and three minutes later, the druid returned.
"Are you sure?" he asked, observing Ferrum skeptically.
Ferrum didn't look up. He smiled crookedly and pushed a few locks of his long blonde hair away from his face. "This is the cargo room."
The door opened wider as the man stepped in, closing the door behind him. "I thought so." Carrying the leather bags slung over his shoulder, he settled into a corner of low and evenly stacked crates. Seating himself onto the crates, he turned and watched the swaying motion of the blonde man's cloak as it brushed the bits of sand and dirt of the wooden floorboards.
Rune watched, with slight interest. .He must be of Jeryn's court, the druid thought, amused. It was the only explaination. No warrior would be silly enough to prance around wearing a cloak that screamed out to monsters, "Fresh meat! Bite me hard!"
When the blonde man turned around and removed his cloak, the druid nearly choked on his wine.The man was dressed completely in black, save for the brilliant iron armour pieces pressed to his body and the leather belt upon his hips with an ancient-looking yew wand tucked into it. A necklace, with a rather large skull jewel dangling from it, still stained with blood. The armour that was his breastplate, was designed to look like the ribs of a human skeleton with the spine running down the middle in front of his muscular belly.
--The hell??! the druid thought in shock. He's a necromancer. He glanced up to his face as the gloved hand his short sandy-blonde hair, he smiled, blue eyes gleaming.. "You're a necromancer...?"
Ferrum grinned lopsidedly, his right blue eye twinkling. "Yeah, Ferrum's the name. Who are you and what's it to ya?"
"I'm Rune... and well, most necromancer's I've seen have white hair..." he paused, hesitating. Should he really be criticizing someone so familiar with death? "..Long white hair...."
Nodding, the Ferrum plopped himself onto the floor, glancing over at the barbarian in the corner of their shared cargo room. "Yeah, well, I'm still pretty new at this, so... my hair has yet to turn white from stress, or conjuring too many curses, I guess."
"Kinda... strange, don't you think?" the barbarian gruffly spoke up, finally getting the attention of the two other men and finally convincing Rune that he really wasn't a deaf-mute.
The blonde man rolled his eyes like a royal brat irritated with being interrupted by a lowly servant. "Who are you?"
"Omega's the name."
He retaliated with another charming grin. "Well, Omega, at least I HAVE hair." He threw the large burly barbarian a glare too quickly to catch, but Rune saw it and turned away, the corner of his mouth quirked up into a slight smile.
The barbarian scowled slightly before turning his attentions back to whatever it is was he did before.
"Tell me, what's with the cloak?" Rune suddenly spoke up.
Ferrum turned to Rune as he sat down. "What about it? It's a gift from my girlfriend." His fingers toyed with the smooth and heavy cloth of the royal blue clothing in question.
Rune arched an eyebrow. "I see..." He shook his head. "I always assumed that necromancer's didn't thrive on.... colour."
The blonde smiled oddly. "Don't clump me with the rest of the masses. I'm not trying to make a fashion statement, it was a gift, so I'll use it regardless of how many monsters are drawn to it." He paused and sardonically added, "It also brings out the colour of my eyes."
The driud barely fought back a groan. "I see."
***
Rune's sour thoughts turned back to his month spent in the desert city. Once the verbal slap was given from Nevia, he had wandered around the city, turning only to Atma. The woman was kind enough to let him stay in her tavern. In return for food and shelter, he was the one to keep the rowdy mercenaries and sailors under control. Several times, at least twice a day, a brawl occurred. All it took from the druid was a threat to conjure a volcano in the midst of the scuffle and immediately the guilty parties were silent and forgiving to one another.
The time he had spent at the drink-serving and girl-fucking establishment would have been priceless to him.... but it wasn't. Several times, he found himself unwilling whenever a lusty barwench tried to seduce him. Even the most desirable one of them all, aptly named Desiree, couldn't evoke any inviting response from him. Her bronzed buxom beauty felt rejected once he sent her away.
***
(Author's note: In case you didn't bother to read the note left above: Anything indented like the paragraphs below indicate something that happened in the past... flashback, reminiscing, etc.)
In the small room designated as the guest's quarters, Desiree's slim arms wound lightly around Rune's neck as she sat sideways upon his lap. "Does my looks please you, Rune?" Her sensuously red lips curled into a sly smile as her eyelids dropped halfway. Her dark brown eyes, now appeared smoky with desire... her trademark look it was.
Rune looked at her, his eyes absorbing every luscious curve of her hips and trim waist. As much as he felt like taking this gorgeous woman in his arms and ravishing her, he knew he couldn't. His conscience wouldn't allow it.
He glanced away, making no attempt to push her away.
The woman frowned, turning upon him and straddling his groin, where she could feel the hard poke of his erection. "What's wrong, love? You want me yet you don't speak.... cat got your tongue?" She smiled, leaning forward and pressing her soft lips against his as her hips undulated against him in the ancient rhythm.
Rune made no attempt to kiss her back. Desiree's kiss became more insistent. Her tongue slipped across his lips in asking for entrance. His lips never parted and she retaliated, pressing more determinedly. Her dark chocolate eyes watched his emerald eyes as they gazed back blankly at her, uninterested.
She eased her mouth away and smiled to herself. "Ahhh... I see, playing hard to get now?" She slipped away from him, easing herself off the body seated upon a stool. She walked several steps away and turned back to him. "Why didn't I think of it sooner?"
As part of her seduction tactics, she walked slowly toward him, her hips hypnotically swaying. The gold and silver adorning her wrists, belt and slippers, jingled to the slow beat of her pace. Her hands abandoned her hips, sliding up the sides of her torso to then gently slide over and away from her generous breasts. She bit her bottom lip teasingly. The hazy look in her eyes, the sway of her long black cascading hair, the long slender legs barely hidden under the blue gauzy material of her loose pants; it all was inviting to Rune... but not to his conscience.
He averted his eyes. "Desiree, you should get back to work. You still have drinks to serve."
***
The worse part of it, was the rumors that spread around after every woman was turned away. All of it was clear to him.
"Maybe he's incapable of performing..." one had said, covering her mouth to let out a girlish giggle.
"No, no," another girl had joined in. "Maybe he's got a disease?"
Desiree laughed at the two of them. "I got it, maybe he prefers men!"
When he had walked into the room, they didn't even bother to stop talking about him. Rune was fully aware that he was the butt of their jokes, but didn't care the least bit. The laughs of the women faded from Rune's mind as he sunk deeper into his depression.
He heard shuffling sounds in the room and flicked a glance at the barbarian as he rummaged through his bags.
Rune's weight sank deeper into the pillow with cheap and crumbly stuffing as he ran one hand through his orange wild hair. The sound of a lute leaked into the room, muffled by the wooden walls and the door. Must be that damn minstrel... or bard, whatever the hell he calls himself, Rune thought, irritated. He nearly punched the lanky man back in the dining area when he announced he was going to sing the hauntingly sad song "Eternal Beauty's Death."
He shuddered, clearing his throat to himself after the lump formed within. The last thing he needed was a tune meant to make him fell anymore like shit.
Abruptly jamming a hand through his coarse orange hair again, he sighed. He needed a bath. The last time he had one was three days ago, prior to Nevia's sudden visit. Her visit, though odd, was much appreciated if only she hadn't brought the bad news of her departure.
***
"I wanted to tell you..." Nevia started slowly, nervously glancing around the guest's quarters and making sure her gaze didn't slip to the small bed in the corner. "Erix and I are leaving back to the Rogue Encampment tonight."
"Oh, I see... settling down?"
Her hands latched together tightly as she hesitated before changing the subject. "So, how are you?"
An awkward silence blanketed the two of them as both their gazes dropped to the damaged floorboards.
"I'm sorry," Rune spoke up, looking her in the eyes. "I'm so sorry for what I did to you."
The sorceress nodded, "I know, Rune. I forgive you... you are my friend after all. But..." she sighed. "Erix doesn't share that idea. So please be careful if you every see him."
Rune nodded. The warning had came one day too late. Early yesterday morning, Erix walked into the bar and, having spied Rune, punched him in the gut and emptied a mug of ale on the druid's head before storming out.
The air still felt rather tense between him. It didn't help at all when Rune suddenly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the woman in an affectionate embrace.
"Rune!" Startled she tried to push him away. "No! Please don't!"
He refused to budge. Leaning his head down, he pressed his lips against her smooth forehead. "I wish you and Erix the best... really, I do. And, I really am sorry for all the pain I caused the two of you.... even though I know you probably hate me." Only after he spoke did he let her go and finally take note of the astonished expression Nevia held.
"Rune... thank you," she lowered her head. "I still am rather angry at you for setting up Rune and Fara like that...."
"I didn't mean to scare you like that... sorry. I just..." he purposely avoided talking about his old plot of stealing Nevia from Erix. He glanced around, his jaw flexing. "Kissing you is just bad timing on my part.. especially now."
"Promise me you won't do that to anyone," she suddenly demanded.
He frowned. She's asking me to never kiss someone??! he thought, surprised at her outrageous request. "I can't make that promise... You're asking me to swear to celibacy, I won't do it."
Nevia stared blankly, "What?" She paused and let out a soft titter. "No, no... I meant don't do what you did to Erix and I.... And you won't let anyone else do that so long as you know about it."
Rune's calm face returned. "I promise... I can keep that."
She nodded again and smiled. "I'm glad. And... I'm sure Erix will be happy to hear that, even though he won't admit to it."
"I don't blame him," Rune murmured, feeling as though the paladin punched him in the stomach again.
"Well, hopefully, if we ever cross paths again... you'll be over... well, you know."
Rune nodded grimly. "I hope so too."
***
He smiled at the thought of Nevia. She truly was a good person. He knew in time she'd fully forgive him... she was like that, just too good to be real, too sweet to be a sorceress, and too caring to be a human living in such a cruel world.
Nevia's words rang out to him again, "The world isn't cruel, only people like you are."
He winced noticeably. That simple sentence she had said to him had been his undoing. It was true, he couldn't deny it. He was cruel to her. She was happy with Erix and he tried to twist the situation so he was in Erix's stead. Even though Rune's feelings were still with Nevia, he felt it was more on the level of respect than love. He also wanted to feel needed... and seeing the way she looked at Erix, he wanted that for himself.
A small bubble of anger and jealousy rose within him when an image flashed into his mind; Nevia, lying naked with Erix, dressed (or lack of) just the same, atop her with his arms encircling her lovingly. Reaching for the wine goblet that he had left upon a crate, he finished the rest of the thickly dry liquid.
There were still traces of his affection for Nevia. God, he had even tried to trick her into sleeping with him. He groaned, leaning his head back against the wall. What a fool I am... he thought. He knew his actions were 'for the greater good' and he just couldn't stop that foreboding feeling that had boiled within him when he first lay eyes on Erix. It was unsettling... and... he didn't want Nevia to die just because her lover couldn't protect her.
He shook his head, trying to clear the confusion between the two different pasts. No, he argued with himself. What was I thinking? Erix was a paladin, trained under the Church of Zakarum and known as "A Protector of the Word." The man could fight, but Rune believed it wasn't enough.
"What exactly wasn't enough though?" he asked himself with a frown. Erix loved Nevia, anyone with eyes in their head could see what ran between them. He obviously was an honourable fellow who would willing give his life for her.
Honour. That word sent chills through him. How long has it been since he had been called 'honourable?' An involuntary shiver coarsed through his spine. He had learned that even if one does honourable deeds, it is not always for the best.... honour must be sacrificed at times. For the better good, right?
Sighing, Rune's hand fumbled with the small burlap coin purse tied to his belt. Untying the ratty strings, he poured out 500 gold coins Meshif had payed him and sighed. Earlier in Kurast, the ship captain had been busily rushing around, approaching warriors and magicians alike, begging for help.
Apparently, pirates had attacked the most recent ship he sailed in towards Kurast and, miraculously, the desert ship captain swam back for safety. The damn pirates, he claimed, had boarded the ship and won with ease. On board, other than the crew (more skilled with rowing than fighting), was a small band of warriors. They didn't last very long, he had said. Each and every one of them was disposed of either by death from a blade or being tossed into the dark waters.
The payment, up front, was 500 gold coins and free passage to Kurast along with entertainment, food and drink. If any pirates came along and were then disposed of, Meshif promised to award the warriors on board with 4500 gold pieces each. There were about ten warriors to take up on his offer. Judging by the looks of them, almost all of them were mercenaries. He could only assume that Ferrum and Omega were mercenaries as well... even though Ferrum seemed different than the ones her was used to.
The door swung wide open and a female voice suddenly screamed out like battle cry. "YOU!!!"
Rune's eyes nearly bugged out in response to the angry feminine voice. "Krysta...?!"
"What the hell are you doing here?!!" She stepped forward and at the moment, the ship ghastly creaked. She swallowed a lump forming in her throat and slowly approached him, her body leaning back and forth to match the tossing of the water.
"Going to Kurast," he answered flatly, glancing over at Ferrum then Omega.
Ferrum seemed immediately interested in the woman after he gave her a quick head-to-toe glance. "You two know each other?" He seemed rather amused at the prospect.
"Shut up, Blondie!" she hissed and turned to Rune, ignoring the scowl Ferrum gave in response to his new nickname. "What the hell are you doing here??!"
"You asked that already," Rune seriously pointed out. Ferrum laughed out loud and was rewarded with another glare from Krysta's dark eyes before he finally backed off.
"You bastard," Krysta continued on with the tongue-lashing. "Are you stalking me??"
Rune sighed, "No, don't get your hopes up. And I was here first. I should be asking whether YOU are the stalker."
Ferrum failed to keep his broad grin in check. Krysta frowned upon the both of them and readied her katars. "I should kick your asses..."
As quickly as the threat had been delivered, Ferrum was on his feet, standing between the two like a mediator even though one of Krysta's targets were him. "Please! No violence!"
Rune quirked an eyebrow amusedly. For a necromancer, Ferrum was.... a walking contradiction. Necromancer's thrive off of death and violence, and there he was, screaming for peace.
"Just don't be a dumbass then." Turning away, Krysta hastily made one corner of evenly stacked crates in the room hers. She sat down upon a wooden crate and crossed her legs as she slowly disarmed herself. Her eyes were on Rune the whole time. Obviously, she felt no trust towards him.
Rune sighed, watching the assassin's angry, dagger-shooting glare fly at him. He turned his gaze over to Ferrum as he seated himself beside the assassin, trying to start a conversation with her to lighten the mood. "So, where you from?" was his attempt before the assassin slowly started to talk with him.
The druid's green eyes trailed to Omega. The eyes were fixed on Krysta, tracing the curves of her lean body, the generous but teasing view of her cleavage and her shapely legs. Rune suddenly felt the urge to box Omega's ears in until they bled if it meant his leer would end.
Krysta suddenly stood up again, harassing the druid once more for his wrong-doings against Nevia.
With his mind not the least bit upon Krysta's words, he frowned. He really did not like the way Omega was looking at Krysta. "Sit down and shut up," he barked at the assassin, taking notice of the older brother protectiveness within him that had boiled to life like it had once with Nevia.
"What?!" she flatly responded with a matched tone. "Is that supposed to be an order?! Who the hell do you think you are?" She crossed her arms defiantly.
"I'm your stalker," he replied smoothly.
That threw Krysta off completely. Ferrum simply snickered, shaking his head at the rather odd, though cleverly timed, come back. Due to the loss of words, Krysta glowered at Rune, Ferrum... and then at the barbarian.
"What are you looking at?" she spat fiercely, curling her hand into a tight fist.
Licking his lips, Omega didn't respond right away. His eyes seemed to devour Krysta's form in a ravenous manner. "Nothing special," he replied in a dark voice with a small smirk.
In the next instant, Krysta was giving him third degree, telling the barbarian exactly what she thought about him and not sparing him from the smallest insult. "You assmunch!" had finished her insult spouting speech. With that, she settled back into her seat and turned to Rune again, wanting to poison his mind even more.
"I heard Nevia spoke to you yesterday... I was a little surprised..." is what she had said.
Rune nodded, knowing full well where she was heading. And he was right. Krysta's mouth opened to speak, "I can't believe she'd speak to you after what you put her through."
Ferrum flicked a curious gaze between the two of them. "What?"
He was ignored again. "I'm also quite pleased that they're leaving to the Blood Moors again. At least you won't bother them, even if it is duty that calls."
Puzzled, Rune questioned the 'duty.'
Her eyebrows furrowed. "Apparently some band of cultist dark rogues managed to resurrect some powerful monster." She sighed. "They've taken over the monastery again."
An unwelcoming feeling ran through Rune's limbs. Before he could ask, Ferrum spoke up. "Andariel?" he asked, the dread dripping in his voice.
"No," she shook her head. "Not her. The Countess."
Rune nodded nervously, his palms growing clammy and his breath freezing in his throat. To him, that was worse than Andariel. He felt as though the world had froze, trapping him in the icy prison of helplessness once more. He must've dropped his goblet without even realizing it, for in the next moment, Ferrum groaned, "What a waste of wine."
Blinking, Rune noticed the dark stain of the wine upon the wood and the goblet lying on its side next to the puddle. "Damn," he muttered with a foul curse, picking up the goblet and setting it aside before he rose to his full height and stalked out of the room. The stormclouds above his head were noticeable to Krysta and Ferrum.
Ferrum, oblivious to what was going on, called to him, "Could you bring me a wine bottle when you come back?" When Rune didn't answer, he muttered dejectedly under his breath, "Okay, thanks for listening."
Krysta smiled to herself. She felt that her presence was the reason for his gloominess. If so, then this trip would be quite enjoyable for her.
***
Leaning against a bar while perched on a stool, Rune grimaced to himself. How could they bring her back to life?? he thought bitterly, anger and hatred bursting within his mind and soul. He hated the Countess with a passion and had every reason to. He downed another mug of ale, clouding his thoughts further.
A tap on his shoulder startled him and he reached for a dagger. "Whoa! It's me!" the startled voice cried out.
Rune blinked at Ferrum before turning back to his mug. "Don't sneak up on me like that."
"Alrighty," Ferrum sat down upon the stool next to him, regarding him cautiously. "You alright?"
He grunted. "I suppose so."
Shrugging, and not really wanting to pry the truth out of the druid, Ferrum walked over to a nearby table, engaging in some friendly conversation with a group tough-looking mercenaries. Even Ferrum, with his odd necromancer style wasn't the least bit intimidated. He even dared to take the plate that carried the whole roasted chicken (though small).
Hearing the word "Pirate" from one of the mercs, Rune sighed and sat up straight on his chair as he tried to shut out the sounds of chatter. So far, there had been no signs of pirates, but still, everyone was on edge.
The young blond necromancer seemed to be the only one unaffected by the prospect of pirates. Rune could see that as plain as day by the confident grin he wore and the brilliant gleam in his blue eyes as he leaned upon the table, chatting with those on board.
"Who cares? More practice for me!" he had bellowed happily, tossing his hair over his shoulder. His laugh was full of mirth as he took the glass of ale offered to him by one of the more grimmer-looking mercenaries. With one hand holding the plate of the roasted chicken and one with the ale mug, he drank merrily. After one sip, he was hacking, spitting the drink out.
"What the hell is this?!" He sputtered angrily at the mercenary who still donned his bone helmet. "This can't be ale!"
"Aye... did you know that below in the hold, Meshif's carrying animals?" If the bone helmet could grin, it would do so in response to Ferrum's paling face. He conspiratorially leaned closer to the necromancer. "Tell me, does piss make a nice ale to ye?"
With a long string of spoken obscenities, 'Blondie' chanted several curses at him before huffily walking back towards the cargo room with the plate of chicken still in hand.
Turning away from the little show to return to the room, Rune rolled his eyes. Ferrum, or "Blondie" as some of the other warriors aboard preferred to call him, was annoying... though in a way that you can't help but like him. A natural charmer. Rune didn't feel any threat from Ferrum... perhaps a little jealousy at his friendly nature. Even with the blonde hair setting him apart from all the other necromancers (and most likely setting him as the obvious outcast), he still maintained a sunny disposition.
That's pretty rare in this cruel world.
***
There was Omega, grinning with an unnaturally evil air beside her. He was running one hand down her naked body while his other hand reached into his clothes to stroke his already hardened member. "Pretty bitch, aren't ya?" he said approvingly. His self-pleasuring hand returned to her body to explore her womanly charms. He roughly pinched the rose-topped mounds, teasing until they hardened into little peaks against her will.
Krysta grunted, pulling harder on the ropes that trapped her in the clutches of such a horrible brute of a man. She glanced to the ends of each rope that tied her spread-eagle. All the ropes were tied to a wooden crate at the four corners of the room. Her eyes squeezed shut when she felt the barbarian's warm and wet mouth close over one of her breasts, suckling it hungrily.
She arched her neck back to look to the blonde necromancer. He was bound at his knees, ankles and wrists.. The rope around his wrists were also tied to those around his ankles, leaving him in a rather cramped position of his muscular thighs as they pressed against his face. Luckily for him, he was not awake. The moment he entered the room and spotted the vulnerable position that Omega had tied Krysta in, he was knocked unconscious by an angry Omega... irritated at the moment being nearly ruined, and now he was even more irritated that the room smelled like chicken thanks to the food Ferrum brought in with him that lay messily upon the wooden floor.
She squeezed her eyes shut, cursing loudly in her mind. This can't be happening...!
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C+C appreciated.