Well this is the prologue to my first fanfic. I know it's not the most interesting prologue but it's mainly there to inform people who didn't play the first game. Please R&R
Disclaimer: I do not own the Diablo franchise.
The clatter of steel against stone rang out, as another corrupt knight collapsed to the ground, his head falling a short distance away. The warrior looked ahead, a slight smirk lighting the features on his dirtied face. He was nearing the end of his journey, and he became increasingly aware of a strong demonic presence as he ventured deeper into the flame filled pits hidden deep beneath the town of Tristram.
It had been a grueling task for him to reach this goal, and having waded through countless hordes of all manners of dark minions, he was relieved to find that his quest would be over soon. As he approached the final room, he entered a defensive stance, wishing to prevent any damage that would result from a sneak attack. To his chagrin, a surprise attack was not what awaited him in the final room, as the Dark Lord stood before him, a menacing smile encroaching upon his face.
"I have been awaiting your arrival mortal," the demon spoke, his voice laced with confidence, "You have no hope of defeating me here, and once I destroy you, I shall spread terror throughout Sanctuary, until all serve me!"
"You are wrong demon, you shall perish here beneath Tristram, and peace shall return to the world again!" the warrior shouted back, but while he tried to sound confident his voice betrayed a hint of doubt.
The red skinned demon simply laughed in response, a horrible laugh that echoed through the warrior's mind, filling him with horror. The man's resolution almost faltered, but he regained his composure and charged forward, sword raised for a strike. The demon's eyes widened slightly, mildly shocked at the brash action of the hero, but the shock on his face was soon replaced by a smile.
"You charge to your death mortal, there can be no victory for you here!"
The demon raised his hands and began chanting words in a demonic tongue, and soon fire appeared in the warrior's path. The warrior dodged, and began a swing trying to sever the demon's arm, but the blow was quickly parried by one of the spikes protruding from his arm. He lashed out at the warrior with his claws, but the warrior blocked the blow, and countered with a quick slash at his legs. The blade found its mark, and it bit into the demon's hide, drawing blood but causing no severe damage.
"Not bad mortal, but it will take more than a scratch to slay me!"
The Lord of Terror swung one of his arms, and while the warrior managed to block, his footing gave way as he was flung into a nearby wall. A gasp escaped the warrior as he hit the wall, losing grip of his shield, but just managing to keep his sword. The demon leaped into the air, and the fighter rolled to the side to avoid being cornered. Upon landing, the demon deftly struck at the warrior with his claws. Despite the warrior's efforts, the demon's strike connected, opening a gash in the hero's leg. The hero struggled to his feet, only to find his wounded leg could not support his weight.
"This battle is over human, I have won!" the demon's eyes lit up with the satisfaction of his victory, and he closed in to deal the final blow.
The warrior, unable to stand, was slumped on the ground, thinking of a way to win this fight. As the demon neared, victory seemed all to certain for the terrible demon, when suddenly the fighter lashed out, striking the demon in the heart. The demon's eyes widened, and his glance fell upon the sword shoved through his chest. He staggered, confused as to how he was in this much pain.
"How can this be! This wound from a mortal weapon is far from fatal!" the demon gasped as he fell to one knee.
Silently, the hero struggled to his feet, wincing as pain shot through his injured leg. He carefully made his way to the demon, stopping before him.
Raising his sword, the warrior spoke, voice laced with malice, "This is Doombringer, and its powers are quite capable of defeating a pitiful creature such as you!"
He brought the sword down on the demon, slicing once more through his chest, before collapsing next to the corpse.
He searched his bag and found, to his delight, that one of his health potions remained. He chugged the potion, ignoring the desire to gag that resulted from the bitterness of the fluid. His wound closed and he stood, his dark hair matted to his head with blood and sweat. He glanced over the corpse, until his gaze fixed upon a gleaming red object in the demon's skull. Taking his knife from the belt he removed the stone, and as he held it he heard voices creeping into his mind.
"This must be the object that contains Diablo's spirit," the man reasoned, "it would be dangerous to simply leave it below Tristram once more."
While he pondered this new puzzle, the voices began to speak more clearly into his mind, becoming louder each moment.
Only you can stop him for good. Quickly! Contain his spirit within your body; you have the power to subdue him!
Grasping the stone, the warrior shoved the stone into his skull, and believing the demon contained, found a cloak to wear. Pulling the hood up to conceal the stone, he opened a portal to Tristram, and stepped through to greet the cheering citizens. All the joy was drowned out however, by the incessant voices within his mind, struggling to gain control.