The Dark Side of Valour
magnedhead
The village had been smouldering for weeks. Located on the eastern edge of the Aranoch Desert there had been no warning bells from a nearby settlement to direct aid, so when daemons had struck it had been over quickly. The fiends had taken few prisoners and even then, only for their entertainment and sustenance. The corpse in front of Tyrael had been tortured and then killed, most of its lower body consumed by daemons. He gripped his sword El'druin tighter before rising to his feet. The sight had made him furious, a fury he intended to turn on their opponents.
"This is grim indeed." Valla said. The Nephalem too had been examining a corpse of an unfortunate villager. It had sustained similar injuries.
"It is quite likely that we will find no survivors." Tyrael said, steeling himself to the thought.
"I didn't expect any." Valla said grimly and stood up. One of the daemon huntress' crossbows came into Vallas hands in a blur and she began examining it for faults or potential problems.
"Are you all right, Nephalem?" Tyrael asked.
"Nephalem? I have a name, you know." Valla responded. When Tyrael simply looked back at her, she sighed and continued her work.
"I will be fine, thank you Tyrael. I just suppose I hoped that once we had defeated both Diablo AND Malthael, two foes of cosmos-shaking proportions, Sanctuary would calm down a bit, be a happier place if only for a spell,"
Valla looked at the mutilated corpses and the smouldering village on the horizon again, "And in recent weeks I have been proven soundly wrong. Sanctuary is just as full of evil, sickness and death as it has always been. Now it is just through more personal and savage means than some grand ritual.
"Perhaps we missed something, some canker Malthael or Diablo left behind-"
Tyrael put a hand on Valla's shoulder. He could not help but notice that when the Nephalem became agitated, her eyes took on a golden shade. "Malthael is dead, Heavens rest his spirit, and Diablo was banished. And if there is some grand evil at work again, that is why we are here. Be at ease, Valla."
Valla locked eyes with Tyrael for a moment before her shoulders slumped again and she took a deep breath, the crossbow vanishing under her cloak again. "Thank you Tyrael. It's been a rough year. Now let's get going, there is still a small chance that someone survived."
The scene of mutilation they had found on the outskirts of the village paled in comparison to the village centre. Piles of corpses rotted next to collapsed huts, plumes of smoke still curling from holes in their roofs. Spikes of hell-rock had impaled women and children around which impish daemons were dancing and cavorting. Gargoyles were circling in the sky, too caught up in their competition for food to notice Tyrael and Valla's approach.
Valla pulled up her cloak to cover her nose against the stench of death that was blowing out of the village. Tyrael did not seem to notice.
"None of these vile fiends appear in charge." Tyrael whispered angrily.
"Indeed." Valla responded. The golden glow of Nephalem power had returned to her eyes.
The Nephalem rose from their hiding spot and, dual hand-crossbows appearing in her hands in a blur of motion, unloaded on the gargoyles flying in the sky. In a moment the flyers were torn asunder in a hail of crossbow bolts, their stony hides no match for Valla's armaments. The fiends on the ground stopped in their revelry and looked dumbfounded at the winged creatures tumbling out of the sky above them, not noticing Tyrael's charge before it was far too late. El'druin split one daemon from throat to hip before it had time to cry out and then continued, confusion rising amongst the daemon herd as they torn to pieces by sword and bolt.
The fight was over quickly, the daemons weak and unprepared for an attack. The only injury sustained by the companions was a minor cut from when a panicked daemon had managed to lay a claw on Tyrael's cheek. It had taken a crossbow-bolt to the temple before it had taken another breath.
"Tyrael, sit down." Valla indicated a large chopping block that the villagers must have used for firewood before the attack.
"I assure you Nephalem, it was a tiny cut barely worth mentioning. I am just fine." Tyrael responded. Besides the cut, the man's cloak was the only evidence he had been in battle. Valla envied his enchanted armour and sword on which blood and guts never stuck. She herself had no injuries but her armour was spotted with daemon fluids.
The daemon huntress pointed to the improvised seat again and unhooked her water-skin. "You won't be saying that when it gets infected. Now, sit down."
Tyrael, chastised, sat down and held still while Valla washed the cut. Even as the Aspect of Wisdom it would take Tyrael a little while longer to adjust to his new life as a mortal and the requirements that entailed.
"Thank you, Valla. I had not thought of it like that." Tyrael said while trying to resist the urge to rub at his cheek.
"It is nothing. Daemons are vile creatures in every sense. Cleanliness of any sort is not their forte. Now, survivors and then we try and discover if there is anything more to this attack."
As Tyrael had suspected they found no survivors. One young girl had hidden herself in the cellar of one of the houses before it had collapsed. The poor girl had given up the ghost, dead despite no injuries on her person and all the food-stores the family had stored in their larder. Valla carried her out into the village square and laid her to rest in one of the corpse-piles before lighting them on fire, giving the villagers as much of a burial as was reasonable. It reminded Valla too much of her own child-hood, but the two companions had come here to investigate, not to spend days digging graves.
Their rescue effort attempted, the two gathered in the centre of the village. Tyrael gently planted El'druin in the bloody soil. The holy blade lifted off the ground by a few inches and the central jewel changed in its brilliance. Globules of energy rose off the daemon corpses and floated into the jewel for a minute before a trail of sorts became evident in the air, like a scrap of blood-covered cloth hanging in mid-air. It led out of the village towards the ocean. A thick pillar of smoke rose there but the village had not extended that far out.
"Their hell-gate." Valla said.
"Indeed." Tyrael agreed. But as Valla strode off and Tyrael made to grasp his blade and follow, his touch caused another reaction in the holy sword. The trail vanished, and the blood-red spots vanished from the central jewel, to be replaced by a single glowing spot that sped off, leaving a trail of radiant dust that led off in a different direction from the hell-gate.
"Wait a moment, Nephalem. There is something else here."
Valla stopped and turned, taking in the glowing trail with a glance. "A bigger daemon?"
"No, it is an angelic presence. An angel passed through here." Tyrael responded.
"Really? Before or after the attack?"
Tyrael rose to his feet, El'druin at his side. "Far before, I would hope. I cannot condone any of my angelic brethren passing through this charnel-house without taking action."
Valla took out one of her crossbows and held it to her side, eyes fixed on Tyrael. "Do you want to go take a look?"
"I do, but you need not accompany me. You have helped the High Heavens enough without getting involved in our personal matters. I will send a signal if I am in need of assistance." Tyrael said. He was not looking back at Valla but was instead staring off into the desert where the trail was leading.
"I will close that hell-gate then. If it comes to it, I too will send a signal. Good luck Tyrael." With that, Valla strode off towards the plume of smoke in the distance and the hell-gate it promised.
"Blessings of the High Heavens to you, Nephalem." And Tyrael grasped El'druin tighter and stalked after the trail.
