Hello again fans of evil stomping slightly odd heroes. I'm back with another chapter of forgotten heroes.
Somehow Aliza and Isolde became a key part of the story. I honestly didn't mean to keep them around but now somehow this is their story with guest appearances from the heroes. Odd, very odd…
I don't own any rights to Diablo or Diablo2 or hellfire or LOD or any thing else I'm forgetting to list. The idea for this story is my own.
Leanne is my own char, don't try to steal her or she will skin you alive. Malcolm is my own char, try to steal him and he will feed you your own liver, in a light lemon sauce. Don't mess with Avian she likes to poison people. Aliza and Isolde are a package deal you can barrow them but you have to use them both together.
The forgotten heroes.
C) 4
Avian set a hard pace for the Rogues, they where long past the moors and cold plains into the rocky landscape before the first of the towering mountains. The stony field was over full with demons and beasts each stronger than the Rogues feared. The Assassin killed anything they came across, warning the Rogues to save their arrows for the underground passage and the dark woods beyond. She tore into the monsters and undead with blades in unbelievable moves or slipped into shadows only to reappear hurling spinning blades or to stab with a green tinted dagger that disappeared as quickly as it came.
The sun fell under the horizon as the Rogues stumbled in the doors of a small cabin. Avian was already stoking a fire on the hearth, the long path from the encampment didn't seam to have tired her at all despite only short pauses at wells and forks in the path. A small vial went back into her belt before Aliza could see what it was. The Assassin took dried beef from her pack and tossed it to them before falling onto the one crude dusty bed.
This left the two of them to take turns sleeping on the floor and watching for monsters. Aliza had the first watch while Isolde curled up beside the fire. She found herself looking at her friend more than the door. Isolde was never much for talking but ever sense the fall of the monastery she never uttered a word.
Isolde was down in the depths of the jail when the first wave of corruption washed through. She was the only one in a room of Rogues that escaped that level, everyone else fell trying to run from their sisters. Much the same thing happened throughout the monastery and now Isolde was the last of her generation. (Rogues in my perception treat the monastery as a school/chapel and a giant extended family)
Aliza still had most of her near sisters (see bottom of page) but she had always been more comfortable around the younger sisters. Isolde was perhaps the youngest sister alive unless some were hiding off in the countryside or at another encampment. So Aliza kept Isolde near her hoping to keep her safe, and making herself feel more comfortable.
Aliza felt her eyes drop and shook herself awake again, "it too silent out there." She went over to the doorway and looked out into the night. The sky above the world was thick with heavy clouds that blocked the moon and stars. Her eyes scanned out into the darkness around the cabin, using her training and the blessing of the sightless eye to see deeper than the faint light behind her would allow.
Out in the dark she couldn't see anything except grass swaying in the growing wind. She turned and went back to the hearth to wait her turn asleep. Stirring the low fire she wondered if whoever had lived here had made it somewhere safe, if anywhere was safe that is.
She gave a start and leapt to her feet when lightning began to crackle outside. She had fallen asleep and now the cloud where beginning to lighten with the morning sun. The Assassin was gone and Islode was pulling herself up and stringing her bow. Aliza griped her own and picked up her extra quiver before ducking out the door with Islode behind her.
They stepped out to find a sea of short feral demons, Fallen and their blue cousins Carvers were trying to swarm over the house. The only things slowing them down where strange bundles of twigs and wires that flung off small crawling balls of lightning. But even as they watched several twig bundles caught fire and fell apart. Those few demons that had died began to get back to their feet after a coppery light dissolved their wounds and made them scream as if dieing again in extreme pain.
Aliza was already releasing her fifth arrow before she could blink again, beside her Isolde was sending freezing arrows into the churning masses that still came onward. The demon slowed only to let their dead climb back to their feet, those that Isolde shot fell to the ground and shattered, leaving nothing to get back up.
And then the demons where on them, clawing and hacking and chewing on exposed flesh. The Rogues fought back as they could, with stabbing belt knifes and bows as clubs. Aliza felt herself pulled down into the mass of demon flesh and screamed in rage. This wasn't how she was meant to die; she was going to die an old Fletching Mother who could still draw her longbow and hit a target six hundred paces off.
Then she felt a grip on her arm, she lashed out trying to stab with her belt knife but found that she had lost it in one of the demons thick skulls. And then she was free of the demons, sitting against the wall of the small cabin. She could only stare as Avian fought, keeping the demons away from Aliza.
Aliza looked to her side for Isolde but she wasn't there, her head whipped to the other side and still there was no Isolde. She jumped to her feet and griped her bow, not caring that it was cracked, and began firing into the churning mass before her.
Suddenly the arrow in her hand burst into flames but she didn't care as she drew it back and fired. The fiery arrow left a smoky trail behind it as it went past Avian's head to hit the wall of demons kept back by her blooded blades. The arrow sank deep into the heartless chest of a carver and exploded.
Flesh and gore flew every direction as the carver and several near it were shredded by fire and smoke. And there in the brief gap Aliza saw Isolde, she was lying prone on the ground between five twisted monsters with crude mockeries of religious garb. Aliza found herself firing another flaming arrow, and another, and another.
Everywhere around her demons disappeared, leaving behind a scene of bloody carnage. Aliza reached for another arrow and found them gone, her quiver empty as was her extra quiver. She griped her cracked bow and charged towards the fleeing demons, only to stumble to her knees as her injuries caught up to her.
She was lying there in the black blood of the demon she had slain when a hand turned her over and thrust a large red bottle between her teeth. She gagged on the horrendous taste and tried spitting it out but the hand was over her mouth and rubbing her throat as she was forced to swallow.
She could feel the worst of her wounds begin to close, filling her with a tingling itch she found pleasant. Finally the hand came away and she sat up looking at her torn armor and more small wounds than she had ever seen. She turned towards her savior, expecting another sister or even a merchant guard only to find Avian.
Avian turned and glided away with the stalking sweep that Aliza found disturbing for the mixed images it put in her mind. When she saw what Avian was heading towards she got back on her protesting feet and wobbly knees and made her way over beside her.
Aliza was forcing another potion down Isolde's throat. Aliza hoped it was enough to heal the worst wounds. Large chunks of flesh were missing from her legs and a ragged hole was torn under her breast and large burns covered her face and sides.
Watching the wounds begin to heal and close so rapidly was very disturbing when this close. First the hole under her breast twisted closed, pushing up flecks of dirt and a chunk of wood, then her legs fleshed out filling in the missing muscles and covering the glint of wet bone.
Aliza watched as several larger cuts and gashes began to close and fade to dark bruises. Isolde was still covered in burns when the healing stopped and beside her Avian swore a string of words that Aliza blushed at even when not understanding most of them. Avian began digging in her pack searching for another potion, finding nothing but small white vials and bark blue potions.
She cursed again and began walking around the gruesome battleground, hunting like a stalking mountain lion. She moved fast and steadily but everything she found of interest was tossed aside or disappeared into her pack. Aliza stayed with her sister, cradling her brunt face in her arms.
Finally Avian came back with several red bottles, each one much smaller than the ones she had used before. After the last bottle was empty Isolde's burns had faded down to a dark pink scar that ran all across her back and sides and one long warped scar crossing her cheek, more potions would be needed to remove the scars before the healing settled into the flesh.
Aliza carried Isolde back to the cabin herself while Avian went back to looting the plies of charred flesh. Aliza cleaned the blood from Isolde and herself before tucking herself into the bed beside Isolde. Her last thought before sleep was that Avian wasn't so bad but she could sleep on the floor for now.
Three days later the three women where ready to move out. They had stayed in the cabin while recuperating but the stench of rot was growing too much and the scavengers where growing bolder.
Aliza strung her new bow with an ease that still surprised her for a long bow. Isolde's bow was always strung, simply because the string would never move except to pull an arrow. While Aliza's longbow was as plain as any bow, except for the slight shiver she felt when drawing an arrow, Isolde's was a most peculiar short bow that looked made from a long carved gold green rib or horn.
Avian was still as neutrally hostile as ever but she wasn't as demeaning of the Rogues now. For a whole day after the battle she had gone out hunting for healing potions. But with every trip back the small potions she had found made less and less effect on Isolde's burns. Aliza was sure that Avian avoided looking at the burn scar running across Isolde's cheek, she just didn't know why.
Aliza picked up her four quivers, she strapped two to her waist and the others went into her pack. The bows and a mountain of arrows had been found by Avian to replace those they had lost. Most the arrows where crude things and useless for hitting anything smaller than a mountain but several could be used acutely enough. Much of the night before was spent checking arrows and sorting loot. Avian clamed first rights from anything but there was more than enough to satisfy the Rogues. Most of it would be given to the encampment but a few gems and coins would be theirs to keep.
Outside the cabin Aliza's eyes went to the rotting demon skull sitting among the branches of a nearby tree. It was half burnt from inside and had short pointing horns but her eyes saw only the broken shaft of wood thrust into an eye-socket and out the back of the skull. That was how Isolde had killed the leader of the demons, by ramming part of her broken bow into its evil face.
That was also how she had been burnt. The demon was Bishibosh, an evil shaman that raised the dead corpses of its minions to continue fighting. When defeated it's body burst into black flames born of its evil nature and dark sins. The fire had burnt Isolde and left her nearly dead but Isolde wasn't the least bit upset.
Isolde was the same as ever not caring about nearly dieing or the loss of her fair face. Scars earned in battle were a minor honor among the sisters but a fair face was preserved for the sake of hiring. Often enough Rogues were only hired as a pretty face, but only by those who didn't know better. But still the sisterhood liked using a pretty face to change perceptions among idiotic men of other lands. The odds of Isolde being hired out to merchant going to other countries had fallen greatly.
Aliza fallowed along behind Avian and Isolde was behind her as they traveled down the hard dirt path. Up ahead Aliza could see the towering cliffs that could only be passed by an ancient cavern running down deep into the earth. There would be demons and monsters and other foul things laying in wait, she found herself grinning and saw glancing back so was Isolde. They had begun to like these adventures, even with the frequent threat of doom looming over their heads.
That's the end of chapter four. Its not very long but I need to make some ideas up for the passageway before I get to it.
It is very odd that Aliza and Isolde have become the center of the story. They had been meant as a plot device that would disappear after the first chapter but here they are pulling the story in a slightly different direction then I first planed.
I have a name for the necro. Sorry Karlminion but don't worry I did take your names, Guildain and Faldain. I even know what characters I'm attaching them to. But you have to wait until they appear in the story.
For some reason I can't get the chapters above five pages… I don't want to force it but I may have to if it doesn't change soon.
(Near sister- same generation or the same age and in the same classes of study under a fletching mother. Fletching mother- an older Rouge that teaches and looks after a group of younger Rogues. There can be upwards of a hundred Rogues in a generation. And every generation is divided into many groups of near sisters. Anywhere between 10 and 30 near-sisters can be under a Fletching mother.)
Later