THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL
CHAPTER 6 TristramTelin had performed the ritual on the Tree of Inifuss that would yield a scroll detailing how to open the portal to Tristram from the Cairn Stones. From there the now three companions had traveled to the Waypoint located near the Tree and traveled back to the Stony Field. "So why did we go through the cave when we could have used this that to go directly to the tree?" Arc had asked Telin, amused.
She rolled her eyes and sighed in disgust, "I can't use a Waypoint unless I know the runic inscription on the stone. I don't know the pattern on the one in the Dark Wood because I have never been there. You must really think I'm stupid, don't you?" she replied in a playfully annoyed tone.
Despite Jorg the Barbarian's suggestion of "sharing meat and past glories" none of them had the strength for it as all were exhausted from the day's fighting.
Having eaten their fill of some birds that Telin had shot down earlier that day, they were exchanging stories of recent events. Arc was telling Jorg of how he came to the Rogue camp, his meeting Telindhra, their battle at the Den of Evil, their defeat of the Blood Raven and now their quest to reach Tristram.
Jorg the Barbarian listened and nodded, occasionally asking questions. When Arc had finished, he nodded his approval. "Your tale is good, and your actions are honorable. Now your talking is done and it is my turn to tell you why I am here."
Arc nodded and he and Telin leaned back to listen.
"When I was younger, my Father left the tribe to travel East. A powerful man of honor in the East wished to hire our tribe for military services. We are an honorable clan, and we would not agree to fight before we knew what we would fight for, so my father left first to find out more. He carried a message to this powerful man explaining his visit.
"My father never reached his destination. Only the message somehow made it to the man, who sent his own message back. We knew this meant my father was dead."
"Now, many years later, I am a true warrior of my tribe. I have gained much honor and fought many battles. I have made wealth in plunder and my name is sung in the history of my people as a worthy warrior. I have earned the right, in the sight of man and gods, to travel in my father's footsteps, avenge his death and claim my birthright. I seek the axe of my father, called the Chieftain. It is a legendary weapon, gifted with potent magic, and has seen the death of many minions of evil. I will find it and vengeance for my father long dead."
"So where will your search begin? Arc asked.
"It already has. In one of my father's last letters, he described passing a place called the Forgotten Tower. It is further East of here. Legend has it that a demon in a woman's form resides there, called the Countess."
"Perhaps she is the one who overcame your father," Arc reasoned. "Seeing as you saved our life, friend Jorg, then we shall aid you in your quest to defeat the Countess and learn if it was she who slew your father."
"Many thanks, friend Arc, but unnecessary." Jorg said, smiling. "I killed her already. Yesterday. It wasn't her."
"Oh." Arc said, a bit lost for words. "umm, that's too bad." Embarrassed, Arc continued the conversation. "So then where will you go?"
"I plan to head further East. After here he planned to travel to Lut Gholien. But I hear that the road is blocked by evil. I must find a way through the evil first. But I do not know how."
"Perhaps you should consult the Rogues." Telindhra suggested. "This land is ours and we know it better than any. If any would know a way through, it would be Akara, or Kashya."
"Yes, that is good. They say that this evil is the work of Diablo, risen from his slumber to walk the world again. They say he rose from the town of Tristram. I will accompany you first. Perhaps if I know more of this evil, then I may be able to find a way through it, or perhaps even stop it."
Arc smiled. "You would be welcome to join us, Jorg." Arc stood, stretched and yawned. The others followed suit and they bid each other good night.
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The next day found them standing within the circle of the Cairn Stones. The stone obelisks stood towering over all of them, about twenty feet high each. On each were engraved a different rune. Telin drew forth the scroll and began chanting the ritual, and also walked to each stone and touched each rune in order. When she was finished, great magical power was released, reminding both Arc and Telin of the magical power that flowed from Blood Raven at her second death. As the magic flashed around them and leapt up from the crests of the stones into the sky, an oval portal of flowing orange light opened in the center of the stones. The three exchanged worried looks, then hesitantly walked through.
The smell of charred wood and the sweet scent of roasted flesh greeted the party. Arc was forcedly reminded of the burnt inn that he had seen before reaching the Rogue camp. For a short while the brightness of the portal as they stepped through left them a bit blinded, but before Arc could see properly he already knew what had happened.
Tristram was dead. It was clear that the town had been razed. From the smell, few, if any escaped the blaze. The town that had survived the Lord of Terror himself rising from beneath their feet now lay gutted and broken. It was irony of the worst fashion.
"Looks like maybe I won't be able to speak to this Deckard Cain after all." Telin said soberly.
Arc nodded, horrified. There was nothing he could say, words could not be forced past the lump in his throat. He felt a broad hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Jorg looking down at him. "Come friend. Perhaps there are survivors that we may help."
As they approached the wreckage of the town, they heard the familiar maniacal cackle, and the sound of bones unnaturally clacking together. Fallen Ones. Skeletons. Savagely, Arc ripped his shield from his back, drew his sword and attacked.
Telindhra was frightened. She had never seen Arc fight so. Always before he had been cool, calm and collected. All moves he made were strategically placed to minimize danger. Always he fought with his companions in consideration. He had always hung back before, allowing her free reign with her bow and to try to keep her from hand to hand combat, where she was weaker.
But not now. Now he threw himself into battle with abandon. His sword strokes, once so smooth and precise, the attacks and defense of a master, were now harsh, wild. Attacks not fueled by practice and mastery, but by fury and anger. By despair.
She drew arrow after arrow and downed many monsters, but with Arc giving in to the call of battle, and the Barbarian also throwing himself in with abandon, she had to pick her shots with care.
Now all the skeletons were piles of bones, and the Fallen began to flee into the town. Arc gave a roar in protest and began to chase them.
Telin called him to stop, and even the Barbarian caught in the blood lust, shouted for him to come back. They exchanged glances, and then moved to follow. Both knew that running into an unexplored town recently destroyed by the forces of evil, where anything at all could still be there, was foolishness of the worst kind, and that following him would be falling into the same trap that he fell into. But they could not abandon him.
Wary, weapons at the ready, the jogged together, following Arc. Rounding a corner, they came to the town square. Or what was left of it. In the center, Arc was engaged in a hopeless battle, surrounded with dark, powerful satyr-like creatures. Telindhra recognized the Goatmen demons, having heard them described by the veteran Rogues who had served at Tristram against Diablo's previous incarnation. Somehow Arc had managed to bring up another of those curious Auras, one that danced with fire and burned any that came to close. But regardless, his enemies pressed in close. The fact that he wasn't dead from a mace smashed into his back attested to his sheer brilliance with the sword, constantly spinning and weaving between foes, ducking and swinging his shield to parry blows and sometimes to smash offguard opponents.
His sword, however, was not devoted to defence, as it probably should have been. It was clear from the frozen mask of hatred and fury on his face that he was giving little thought to defence at the moment. His sword dealt out death to all those that stood in his way. Dozens of bodies with cut throats, severed limbs and head and gaping wounds attested to the deadliness of his dance.
With no time to spare, Telindhra started to launch off a steady stream of arrows at the crowd of enemies that had gathered around Arc. Some of the goatmen died, others turned to charge at the newcomers. Jorg let off a huge warcry and rushed to meet them.
Telin was so busy concentrating on firing and in muttering the rituals to enchant her arrows for power that she almost didn't notice the voice. Even when she did she was too busy to answer. Finally, it came to her what it was saying.
"It is hopeless! You must stop! I can get us out of here."
She turned to the source of the voice. Suspended in a cage in the center of the square was an old man. He was reaching out of the cage and shouting. "Quickly! Free me!"
Without moving she loosed an arrow that severed the line that was holding the cage aloft. With another arrow, one enchanted with cold, she hit the large padlock holding the gate shut. The lock and some of the nearby bars froze. The old man leant back and slammed the door with his shoulder. Though the lock did not crack, the frozen wood of the door shattered and swung open.
Telin resumed her firing on the enemy. More and more were pouring in to the square and Jorg was having trouble keeping the greater numbers from her.
The old man joined her. "Quickly, we must get to my house! I have a portal scroll there." The old man dragged at her and she followed backwards, still firing her bow, calling for Jorg and Arc. Jorg heard her and understood, and was attempting to back away in the direction of the cottage. Arc gave no indication that he heard.
Suddenly, she heard the old man gasp. Whirling, she saw they were standing face to face with the biggest zombie she had ever seen. He was also newly dead, so still fairly spry. The old man face paled. "Griswold! My old friend!"
The zombie grinned, baring blackened teeth and gums, and raised its powerful arm. Pulling the old man back and behind her, she fired point blank into it's chest, enchanting it with her most powerful ritual, the explosion of the arrow knocked Griswold back and her and the old man from their feet. Regaining her feet, she helped the old man up.
Griswold was again advancing. To make matters worse, Goatmen and skeletons were leaping off nearby roofs, ones that were still stable, that is, to land near her and her friends. Again she began firing, burying arrows in any enemy that came too close. But she could only hold them off for too so long. They began to close and she abandoned the arrows, pulling her javelin. Griswold loomed close, and they were surrounded.
The old man was panting, physically exhausted from his ordeal in the cage. But he drew himself up as tall as he could and began chanting an incantation. Though he was an old man, Telin saw that visage of a powerful sorcerer in his face.
A ring of pure power exploded from him and slammed into the circle of enemies, knocking them back. All fell to their feet, except Griswold. For the Zombie the old man brought forth a Fireball that slammed him in the chest. "Go" he commanded and started to run to the cottage.
But after a few steps it was clear the old man had expended too much power. He almost fell to the ground, but Telin caught him. Discarding her javelin, she draped him over her shoulder and half carried, half dragged him to the cottage. A Goatman dropped from the roof to right in front of her, right before the door, and she almost cried out in despair, raging against an unfair world that left her so close, yet so far.
The goatman snarled and slashed at her, but she dodged back, the mace missing her chest by a finger's breadth. But as the monster attacked again, a shape leapt in front of her and parried the blow. Arc caught it on his shield and brought his sword in for a fierce overhand chop that halved the goatman's skull. Kicking the corpse out of the way, he spun and motioned her to get going. Jorg was following, fighting a rearguard action, and together they once again stood side by side, this time outside the door of the cottage.
The old man stumbled to the burnt desk loudly praying to the gods that the contents of his drawer remained intact. It was. He opened the drawer and drew forth a scroll.
A Goatman threw himself in through the window, and out of reflex rather than actual conscious thought Telin drew and shot the monster mid flight. "Quick old man!" She shouted to him the runic call phrase that would generate the portal in the Rogue camp.
The old man nodded as the Rogue continually shot through the window, killing all those trying to get in through there, and occasionally launching shots through the door to help the two fighters two.
A blue light flashed an a portal opened in the corner of the room. Just before the old man shuffled through, she called. "Find Kashya! Warn her to defend the portal!"
A flying Jorg, launched by a powerful swing from the zombie Griswold, came crashing into the wall next to her as the old man came through. Arc dove back to avoid a similar fate and rolled up next to her. Jorg groggily got up and stood to her left.
"We must delay them for as a while before we go through. If Kashya's unprepared, these could massacre the entire camp!" Telin shouted. Arc nodded, and Jorg agreed, their faces resolved.
Arc looked inwards, passed the pain of the many wounds he had taken and the mental wound of finding Tristram in this state. He looked past his fatigue, his pain and cleared his thoughts, opening himself to the Trance. His aura shifted to a familiar blue. Griswold and the other monsters entering the cottage were struck with a frosting cold, slowing them slightly. "That should help a little." Arc said grimly as he and Jorg advanced.
The smallness of the cottage worked in their favour. With the three of them in there, swinging their weapons in wide arcs, there was little room for the enemy to fit in. However, this advantage was countered by the sheer power of Griswold, a power that made him all the more dangerous in the small area, with restricted room to dodge out of his way. And for every Goatman or Skeleton that was chopped, smashed or arrowed, there were three of four pushing to get in. Soon Telin was backed almost straight up to portal, squeezed behind Arc and Jorg, knocking elbows while parrying and blocking blows.
Suddenly, Telindhra heard something. In all the noise of the battle, clashing of swords, shouting of her comrades and enemies alike, she had not noticed this faint voice. It was the voice of Kashya, coming through the portal. "We're in place! We are in place!"
Throwing her bow through the portal, Telindhra grabbed a fistful of arrows. "Get ready to jump back through the Portal!" She tried to whisper into the ears of Arc and Jorg, but ended up with a low yell effect.
Not checking to see if they had noticed, she began the explosive arrow ritual. Pouring as much spiritual power into it as possible, she did it twice, she hoped to make sure that she got them all.
"Now!" She yelled as she threw them down at the feet of Griswold.
The force of the explosions rocked the cottage and threw the already leaping back trio straight through the portal and another ten feet besides.
"Stay down!" They heard Kashya yelled. No argument there, thought Telin as she groaned and rolled onto her back.
She looked around and saw a rank of Rogues three lines deep in the camp, each with a bow aimed at the portal. She watched as Griswold stepped through the portal. A hundred shafts flew from the bow to slam into the great zombie, or past him into the portal. The giant zombie crumbled to his knees and fell heavily to the ground.
Then the portal started to spew forth monsters. Zombies, goatmen, skeletons and fallen. All poured through the portal, faster than anyone would have thought possible. Shaft after shaft was loosed at the horde, but it seemed that every shaft traveled that slightly less distance. Some monsters escaped the storm of arrows and ran to the sides, or away from the bank of archers covering the portal. Fighting erupted within the camp as other Rogues, or swordsmen engaged the monsters. Telin crawled to her bow and added the sound of her own bow to the orchestra of strings. Jorg and Arc rolled out of the line of fire and leapt up to engage to monsters running amok.
However, eventually the line of monsters began to slow, and abruptly stopped. When the flow of monsters stopped, the old man, now leaning on a gnarled staff of oak, spoke a phrase in a commanding voice and the portal disappeared.
Hundreds of monsters had rushed through that portal and into the arms of death, and with only a few casualties to the Rogues. A great cheer erupted from the Rogues, who had again scored an important victory against the forces of darkness that had been ruthlessly pushing them back for a long time now.
Telindhra got up and approached Akara, who was standing with Kashya and the old man from Tristram. She bowed. "Greetings High Priestess. I have returned from the mission that you had assigned me. As to the result of the mission, I may have failed," She turned and looked the old man in the face, "However, I think not."
The old man smiled, and said "You are brave, fight well, and have quick instincts and wit. As you have guessed, I am Deckard Cain."
