Wolfheart

by AC-107

So begins a tale of Anguish, Pain, Hatred, Terror and Destruction. A hunt for fear itself will bring together heroes with troubled pasts and secrets they will hold as long as they can. Set during the entire game of Diablo 2. Rated M for violence and other stuff later on. Reviews & comments would be great, Enjoy. The proper 27th chapter has finally been released. Onward to act 3

26. Buried Pain

Lysander let out a tired sigh and eased his old body into a chair in the Misty Oasis. Of all the buildings in town, the tavern was still the most intact, no doubt because of Drognan's safe-guards. Taking out his pipe, he was about to start smoking when he noticed Fara was trying to talk to him. After a try or two, the Blacksmith managed to get enough past the elder Alchemist's damaged ears for him make out the question when she asked it the third time.

"Well? Were you able to cure the poison, Lysander?"

The Alchemist hesitated before answering with a heavy heart. "I was able to save Selene's arm, though she will likely feel some level of pain in it for the rest of her life. As for her leg however, I was only able to stop the poison's progress and only for now."

There was silence as the weight of the old man's words settled on those present; Fara, Deckard, Drognan, and Prince. Greiz was out with his surviving men, ensuring that anything in the desert didn't get past the walls with Jerhyn providing what assistance he could. Atma and Elzix were tending to the other wounded at the inn while Warriv was tending to his caravan and Meshief was likely either asleep after overseeing the repairs to his ship.

After a moment Fara then spoke. "So she either loses her leg or her life."

Lysander nodded, thinking of the poison that had tore away at the assassin's vitality. It had been like a mixture of various toxins. Some parts he had recognized as similar to various insect and snake poisons. However, some were more exotic and there was a dark twisted component that Lysander could only identify as being similar to the affliction that troubled Shyvana. In the end, the only difference between the two women was that Selene could actually be saved, though at the cost of her leg at the very least.

"The question still remains. Why did this happen?" Drognan looked at Prince. "You were there, tell us what you saw." The eyes of the others at the table turned to the lone adventurer.

Prince blinked his heterochromic eyes and scratched his head. "I only saw the end of it. Whatever started it, the Druid sure as hell..." The swordsman paused for a moment, considering something. "Wait a moment, Deckard, what was your Druid friend's name again?"

Deckard looked confused at Prince's sudden question. "Fenrir Blackclaw, but what part does he play in this?"

"Fenrir, I remember that name somewhere..." Prince mumbled the Druid's name again and again, sounding it out as though he was trying to spell it before his stance stiffened, his eyes widened. "Oh shit. Now I remember. So that's who the Bloodspider..." The swordsman's words faded as his eyes drifted towards the room where Lysander had left Selene. "Lysander, just how unconscious was the Assassin?" He asked as he strode towards the closed door, ignoring the others at the table

"I gave her enough sleeping potion to make Geglash pass out for a week, why?"

Fara got up from her chair. "Prince, what's wrong?"

Prince didn't answer right away, instead Drognan explained. "If those potions were the only things keeping the Assassin unconscious, then it is likely that she is no under their effect.

Lysander coughed, narrowly avoiding choking on the smoke from his pipe. "What? Did I hear you correctly?"

Prince opened the door to the room where the injured woman was. He took a step back. "Drognan is right, it's either that or Geglash can't handle his drinks. Selene's gone."

Fara quickly rushed to the door, to see that the makeshift bed was empty with a cool breeze coming in from the window.

Fara turned for the tavern exit. "We have to find her, quickly. If that poison spreads-"

Prince stopped the Blacksmith with a hand on her shoulder. "Fara, you have to realize that it is likely that she's already beyond our reach."

"So you're just giving up?" Fara glared at Prince, who shrugged in response.

"I call it cutting my losses, but yes. Besides, only the foolish, the insane and the suicidal get between the Viz-Jaqtaar and their prey."

Fara pushed away the swordsman's hand while the elders at the table glance between one another. "I thought those described you perfectly, Prince."

Prince looked at the hand Fara had brushed off. "I only qualify for the first two, though right now, I am not feeling foolish enough to consider interfering in a mage hunt."

"Then that is your choice, I shouldn't have expected anything more from you." With those parting words, Fara ran off towards the waypoint.

Prince stood silent.

Deckard couldn't help be feel utterly useless. Even though he had done all he could to learn of their foe and accept the legacy that he had once abandoned, it hadn't proven near enough to make a difference, to give them an edge over the enemy they faced. However, he was aware that indulging such feelings would do little good. "We had best retire for the night. There is nothing more we can do."

Lysander nodded and got up. "Well then, good night gentlemen."

Drognan however remained seated, his eyes on Prince's back. "I would hear what you know of the matter we were discussing before. Especially on how one such as you, Prince, is aware of the Viz-Jaqtaar."

Prince looked at Drognan over his shoulder, only his orange colored eye visible while the other was covered in shadow. "They're not so stealthy that one doesn't hear whispers, Drognan. But that aside for now, there is something I wanted the opinion of the two of you on." He turned to look at both the Vizjerei mage and the Horadric scholar and reached into a pouch on his belt. Deckard stopped and watched as Prince placed a strange ring onto the table. A ring that looked as though it had been roughly carved from the shard of some blue crystal too dark to be sapphire.

"I don't know what sort of ring this is or what it is made of, the only thing I do know is that I don't like it." Prince's voice was unusually serious. "So I figure the two of you might have some ideas."
Drognan raised an eyebrow at the wanderer. "It's merely some ring, and I have little interest in such trinkets." The mage was about to return the ring to Prince, but an instant before he touched the crystalline surface, a warning fare from his personal protective spells made him jerk his hand back.

Prince smirked at Drognan's reaction. "How about now? And you Deckard?"

The Horadric Scholar, cast the same spell he used to identify the items that the other adventurers had retrieved over their journey. However, he did take note of Drognan's reaction to nearly coming in contact with the ring, so he was somewhat cautious, ready to end the spell should the item contain any sort of threat. As the strands of golden light of the identifying spell touched the dark blue surface of the ring, it reacted explosively as a small flare of dark flames burst from it and consumed the gentle light, scorching the table.

"Cain!" Both Drognan and Prince called out at the same time. Prince slammed his unarmored hand down on the flames and the ring quenching its flames. Deckard quickly recovered from the shock, however, what he had managed to learn before the ring had reacted was quite possibly even more shocking and terrifying.

"It can't be." The Horadric scholar got up, ignoring the two worried gazes and searched his satchel for the tome of his ancestor, Jared Cain.

"Deckard, what is it?" Drognan asked as the Scholar placed the heavy tome on the table and quickly began to cycle through its ancient pages, searching for a certain portion written by another of the Horadrim. As soon as he found it, he quickly looked for the ring, freezing as he saw where Prince's hand was.

"How are you able to touch that?"

Prince blinked, confused at Deckard's sudden question, then he noticed Drognan also looking with an intense curiosity at his hand before he quickly jerked it back, uncovering the ring once more. "Oh that. I'm fireproof." He stammered nervously.

Unconvinced by the wanderer's answer, but too concerned with what he had learned, Deckard examined the ring with his eyes while his fingers traced the lines he read, comparing what was written to what he say, praying that he might be wrong. But in the end, Deckard had only proven himself right.

"It is as I feared." Deckard looked at the ring horrified. "That ring was made from a shard of Mephisto's soulstone."

Prince's stance went rigid while Drognan's eyes widened. "If that is so, then another of the Prime Evils is already free. If my memory of the Dark Exile serves me correctly, then that would certainly explain the slaughter consuming Kurast." Both the elders looked at the young wanderer.

"Where did you get this ring, and how is it that you can touch it without harm?" Deckard asked carefully, now somewhat wary of Prince.

"It fell from the body of the zealot paladin that snuck in with the refugees from Kurast." The swordsman answered as he slowly picked up the ring, turning it in his fingers, the clawed points of his gauntlet making quiet clicks against the crystal before he put it back in the pouch. "As for your other question, I've been around enough to find some other, more dangerous trinkets. Now for some questions of my own." He let out an uneasy snort. "First off, Mephisto? Really? Second off, Mephisto's what?" Prince's voice was full of doubt, though now, it seemed far less believable then before.

"Your act is only insulting at this point young one." There was a tone of irritation in Drognan's voice as he addressed Prince. "It's clear that you know far more then you wish us to believe. Enough games."

Prince's eyes narrowed before he let out breath of defeat. "Fine, but at least tell me about the soulstones first. What the hell are they?"

Deckard looked at Drognan, who sighed and sat back in his seat, and then gestured at chair near Prince. "Stay awhile and listen."

XXX

A skeleton fell to the ground, its bones scattering across the stone floor as the magic that animated it faded into nothing. Another instantly took its place in the never ending tide of undead horrors that slowed the adventurers' advance through Tal Rashsa's Tomb. Mummies, both the complete human ones and their greater counterparts with their hordes of skeletons lurked around every corner and behind each sealed door. Fortunately, the only advantage the enemy had was the sheer force of numbers, and the corridors of the tomb negated some of that advantage.

If they encountered elites or champions in the horde, Lissandra's own small army of summons were more then able to hold the line against the rest of the endless mob while the rest of the party focused down the troublesome foes. That and they provided the valuable chance to rest and recover for the fellowship before they would continue to push the enemy back. Erica's growing power of cold, coupled with the power granted to her by the reforged Horadric Staff allowed the Sorceress to wipe out entire waves of the undead horde whenever Lissandra's minions faltered, but the high mana required with such spells prevented the elemental mage from being able to speed their progress. Shyvana's and Flavie's arrows were focused on the bestial burial masks of the greater mummies to prevent them from raising the fallen undead. As for Andrastse, Vercingetorix, Durga and Fenrir, they pushed against the unending tide, deeper into the darkness of the tomb. With the combined might of both Durga's and Andrastse's auras, Vercingetorix's warcries and the spiritual power of the heart of the wolverine that followed Fenrir, the strength of the melee warriors was leaps and bounds beyond any individual foe they faced. Yet still, they had to rest occasionally as they hacked their way through. Another problem proved to be Fenrir, who reckless kept attacking only briefly stopping to recover whenever Vercingetorix dragged him back from the fray.

It took an eternity, but eventually the party reached a room with an ornate pedestal at its center.

"This is it." Erica breathed after she downed a mana potion, yet another of countless she had downed. "The door to Tal Rasha's burial chamber and Baal's prison is here."

"What door? Aside from that pedestal, I see nothing but walls and the undead bodies covering the way we came." Durga walked along said walls with a torch in hand, lighting the worn and ancient carvings upon it.

Shyvana looked about with a cautious eye. "It must be hidden by magic. It doesn't look like anyone or anything living has been here for ages, we must have beaten the Lord of Terror here." The Amazon took a deep drink from her water sack.

Flavie shook her head. "I know what I saw. He was here, fighting some sort of being of pure light."

Vercingetorix however eyed the Rogue with a suspicious glare. "I still wonder how it is that you know of this. You are clearly no seer or holy woman."

"We have no time. There is something wrong here." Lissandra's interrupted as she raised up more skeletons from the ample supply behind the party. "I sense something amiss."

Andrastse nodded. "Erica, open the tomb now." She drew her sword, praying that if some part of Aidan still lived, he would forgive her for what she was about to do, however, she was confident that they would succeed.

Vercingetorix shook Fenrir's shoulder, waking the Druid from his daze. Putting aside their rivalry, the Barbarian was worried. While the younger scosglennian had claimed he was fine, he hadn't said a word since he'd apologized to the Necromancer and had been throwing himself into combat like one trying to ignite a bezerker's rage, and failing. It was clear, that Fenrir was pushing down all of his pain and anguish with the chaos of battle, trying to convert it all into rage, but it looked like soon, something would break. Worst of all, there was little that Vercingetorix could do. It wasn't like when he had confronted Andrastse, anything he could have said, had been said.

Fenrir silently pushed Vercingetorix's hand from his shoulder and turned to look at the Horadric Staff blast open a gaping hole in the center of the wall to the left of the pedestal. Erica quickly retrieved the weapon once its task was complete. His hand gripped Moon Fang's shaft so hard that it felt as though his fingers were about to burst, yet that still wasn't enough for the Druid. And as he raced towards the opening, going headlong into the darkness, he knew that nothing would ever be enough to stop the pain. All he could do now was bury it in the flesh of his foes and drown it with their blood.

XXX

"Wait, why not simply kill the Prime Evils instead of risking some idiot or groups of idiots releasing them, like what's happening now?"

Deckard shook his head to Prince's question. "They would return in time as death has a far different hold on the Greater Evils than us mortals. The act of imprisoning them would last far longer. The soulstones were meant to hold them for all eternity."

Prince rolled his eyes. "Clearly eternity isn't all it's cracked up to be. Anyways if the soulstones were just meant to be prisons, how does a single piece like the ring contain such power?" The swordsman put his hand in the pouch he had place the ring, just to confirm it was still there. To most, such action would just be a sign of paranoia, but Prince was familiar with certain powerful items having a tendency to get themselves lost.

"Only Tyrael, the one who gave soulstones to the Horadrim would know about any further powers concerning the stones." Deckard answered uncertainly.

Drognan took a sip of water before speaking. "Now that you are up speed, back to the ring. There is something that concerns me. Why wasn't the Hand of Zakarum inquisitor using it when you fought him, Prince?"

The wanderer thought back to when he found the ring. He hadn't taken it off the zealot, in fact it had looked as though it had fallen from some a pouch during the fight between him and Andrastse. "I have no idea. I honestly missed out on the details concerning him as I was a little occupied with another problem." Prince scratched his chest where he was sure another scar had formed, though he hadn't checked yet. "It was just there on the ground when I caught up."

Drognan's eyes narrowed in contemplation as he stroked his beard. "Curious... or maybe... Did he speak at all? Was he searching for someone?"

Prince hesitated, thinking on his answers. He hadn't been particularly concerned with the zealot's motives. The main concerns that had been on his mind had been healing, getting even and... "The Hand of Zakarum inquisitor did seem rather focused on Andrastse, but he was probably interested in finishing off the last actual paladin of the Knights of Westmarch."

"That is one conclusion." Drognan began. "But I feel that the explanation is far more unpleasant and dark then you seem to give it credit. Regardless, you holding onto that ring is a risk. Even if you're resisting its influence, seductive or hostile, it would be wise if you turned it over to me. Knowing what I do about it now, I can contain and study it. The power to contain one of the lords of Hell is invaluable."

Prince had a feeling as to what the elder Vizjerei had concluded, and that made him all the more interested in holding onto the ring. In all likelihood, Drognan was right, and that meant that one way or another, this ring would probably find a way to slip into the grasp of whomever it had been made for. The wanderer was familiar with such items, and he was also familiar with what happened to those that tried to interfere, at least those who weren't him.

Tapping the ring one last time before grabbing his pipe, Prince stood up from his seat as he filled pipe's cup. "Generous though your offer is, I can handle myself. Thank you both for your advice and good night." The wanderer turned to leave.

"I'm afraid I must insist that you turn that artifact over." Drognan's hand was now on his staff, allowing Prince to see that he was treading on thin ice. He turned to look the Vizjerei mage straight in the eyes.

"I'm a afraid I must once again, respectfully decline." The swordsman was unable to hold back a tinge of venom as he said "respectfully"as he wasn't fond of being made to repeat himself, or being threatened. Again he returned to leave.

"You seem to have a misunderstanding. I will not allow you to leave with that artifact." A wave of magic pulsed from Drognan's staff, causing runes that lined the doorway to light up in an arcane purple light as the mage activated his barrier.

"Drognan! What are you doing?" Deckard demanded, startled by the elder mage's actions.

Prince narrowed his eyes as he went over his options, none of them ending with the ring in Drognan's possession. The swordsman was more than certain that he could break the barrier, and he really wanted to, just to show up the Vizjerei, but there was no telling how much power the mage had in reserve. That, and the wanderer really didn't want to burn the Misty Oasis to the ground in the crossfire.

Eyeing the barrier, the swordsman recognized it as one that prevented any from crossing in or out unless they had the caster's permission. And not just physically, it also prevented teleporting. However, there was one little loophole. Prince looked over his shoulder at Drognan, seeing how confident that the mage looked. "Oh you silly Vizjerei, don't ever change." He muttered under his breath. That was the one defining trait of that mage clan, the pride.

Drognan narrowed his eyes, clearly starting to become impatient. "What was that, young man?"

Prince turned and grinned. "I said, good night. Also..." He paused as he activated a unique artifact embedded in his gauntlet that he had acquired quite some time back. It was one of those items that Prince had no idea how he had managed to survive without before he had found it.

How it worked was simple and what it did was downright priceless. It used his mana to make portals, and portals were the loophole concerning the barrier Drognan had created. While teleporting was out of the question, portals were basically already existing tunnels through space, more often then not. The artifact that Prince was putting to use, allowed him to make one entrance and one exit where ever he liked, as long as he marked a surface area large enough for an average sized doorway. Then he could just forget about it until something like the current situation occurred.

"...I don't recall asking for your permission." Prince sent a pulse of mana into the portal artifact on his wrist opening an entrance portal right under him. In response, the exit opened on what was left on one of the bazaar walls in front of the tavern, he had placed it there before entering, just in case. The resulting fall was unsurprisingly disorienting, however the wanderer was more or less used to the changes in gravity caused by the difference in locations so he was able to land on his feet with only a slight stagger. With his escape complete, Prince cut off the mana to the portal artifact, closing the portal-way and resetting the device. Putting his pipe in his mouth, the swordsman's man lit it in his normal manner and gave Drognan a mocking bow, who had seen where Prince had gone. The mage would let his sense rule over his emotions however and took no further action, so the swordsman turned into the night, looking for somewhere to await the return of the adventurers. Also, he was intent on keeping his distance from Drognan until the repairs to the ship were complete.

XXX

It wasn't hard finding their trail. The path of slain monsters was a dead giveaway. The hard part was pushing past all the pain and anguish that came with every step, slowing her down. Her vision was black around the edges, making the tomb ahead seem even more claustrophobic. Her breath was labored, every gasp of air a struggle to remain conscious. With every heartbeat, she could feel the poison eating away at her leg, and the pain eating away at her mind. Or was it the anguish? Regardless of which, she could barely even think properly. The only things forcing her forward were her training that only her body remembered and the man's face that was the focus of the anguish that assaulted her fragmenting mind.

Another wave of agony would have made her scream if she had the breath. Staggering to the wall to lean against it in a vain attempt to ease some of the pain. Yet it was still there, gnawing away at her. If she had been able to focus on anything besides what drove her forward, she probably might of even tried severing her leg to escape the agony that infested the near crippled limb. However, what her mind was focused on, that face, was also what was tearing it apart. It belonged to her prey, her lover, her hunter and she would find him, no matter what it took. And then... and then...

Further thoughts disappeared into the dark as she continued forward into the tomb's gloomy depths, slowly being consumed by anguish and pain.

XXX

The first thing Flavie noticed as she crossed the collapsed wall into the now revealed chamber was the cold, and it wasn't just her, several of the others shivered as they entered. It wasn't that the temperature just suddenly dropped, for the rest of the tomb had been significantly cooler then the open nighttime desert. However the cold within the new chamber had far more of a bite and felt wrong in every fiber of Flavie's being. Lissandra had been right.

Further proof came to light as the light of Erica's staff illuminated the badly mangled corpse of some kind of maggot-like insect, almost ripped apart, with frost coating the tortured creature's bright green insides.

The archer's breath formed a cloud of vapor as she spoke up, breaking the unnerving silence that accompanied the cold. "Is this Diablo's work? Some attempt to scare us?"

Vercingetorix said something, but Flavie couldn't hear him as Andariel suddenly chose that moment to speak, her cruel teasing voice sounding like a whisper in the Rogue's ear. "Not quite, dear little Flavie. If Diablo was indeed here, he wouldn't be trying to scare you, you would most certainly be scared. No, this is not his work but it is familiar."

It took every ounce of Flavie's will power not to jump at the Lesser Evil's sudden intrusion. Andariel had been silent ever since she had forced the Rogue to witness the fight between Diablo and the angel. As the others of the group moved on ahead, Flavie quietly asked the Lesser Evil what she was talking about, but it seemed as though Andariel was keeping silent for the moment.

"It seems that whatever killed that bug was bored. There's more." Shyvana pointed out, firing a flaming arrow to illuminate a swarm of butchered insect corpses before the fire faded into darkness. Before the light went out, Flavie spotted more then half of the things still twitching.

"I don't any of these things died quickly." Vercingetorix said, disgusted, as he crushed one of the large insects underfoot, the thing letting out a weak cry as he did.

"How right he is." Once more, Andariel sounded worried, which sent shivers up Flavie's spine. "I should have expected them to use him soon after my own fall. Dammit!"

Fenrir sniffed the air and began to growl. That was the only warning before from within the dark there was the crunch of something large crushing rocks beneath its weight. A low guttural rumbling began to echo throughout the chamber like some sort of demented laughter that had been merged with the sound of knives grinding together, sounding like it was coming from all around the adventurers. The sound was enough to make Flavie cringe. All the while the temperature of the chamber dropped, the air turning malevolently cold.

"If you still believe in any sort of gods, Flavie, and if you insist on this foolishness of rejecting me, then you had best pray for the mercy of a swift death. For my brother will not be granting such if he can help it." As Andariel said those words of warning, a massive scythe-like claw rose out from the dark and violently dived towards the party, forcing everyone to scatter as it slammed into the rock, icy spikes blasting upwards from the point of impact.

Everyone turned to face their attacker as it stepped forward into view. Its lower body was that of a massive maggot, larger then even the biggest maggots that had been at the hive. And that was perhaps the least horrendous thing about this new foe they faced. Like some sort of insect mockery of a centaur, the upper body of the thing was almost human, but that was only in the loosest of terms. The creature's torso was more heavily muscled then what should have been physically possible. Its arms ended with massive scythe-like claws. And its head was little more then a sizable mouth filled to the brim with large razor sharp teeth that had enough flesh around it to hold a pair of maddened frenzied eyes with a single horn right above the eyes. From the mouth that looked like it belonged to a hellspawned torture device came the twisted laughing sound. While the creature appeared hunched, its height was nearly the same as Andariel's had been.

"What in the name of the gods?!" Shyvana cried out taking aim while Flavie could only gaze in horror.

"Remember one of the reasons that your friends beat me? The fact that I'm not one for the front lines? Duriel, my twin brother, doesn't have that problem. In fact, the longer this fight goes, the more likely he'll win." The Rogue didn't have time to indulge in the Maiden of Anguish's irritating chatter as she took aim at this Duriel. If this new horror was indeed Andariel's brother, then it would go down just as easily.

"Bring that monster down! For the light!" Andrastse cried out as everyone unleashed a full barrage of attacks on the monster. In an instant the monster's laughter and the darkness of of the tomb chamber was blasted away as spells, enchanted arrows, empowered attacks and various battle cries slammed into Duriel all at once. And the Lesser evil just stood there.

At first, it looked as though the sheer amount of attacks had stunned the hellspawn, but as the dust cleared from the first barrage, that hopeful possibility of a quick and easy win became very unlikely. For Duriel shuddered beneath the attacks of the adventurers, but it wasn't from the force of the attacks. It couldn't be, just from the sheer size of the monster. Rather it almost seemed as though the monster was quivering for a reason of its own. As the the overwhelming noise of the attack faded as both Erica and Lissandra paused to drink mana potions there was a sound other then the physical attacks. Duriel's cringe-worthy laughter had stopped, and in its place came the sound of the demon's heavy breathing.

The monster bled all over its grotesque body, dark red oozing over the monster's oily skin. Half of its body was trapped within a small mountain of pure ice. But it hadn't moved a single inch, not even when Erica had summoned forth an entire blizzard spell, not even when both Vercingetorix and Andrastse had slammed into it with full force.

Flavie took aim once again, several arrows already adding more blood to the flow that covered the demon, and fired. The projectile flew towards the creature's shoulder where it hit the creature's blood covered abdomen straight on, and bounced off. Flavie blinked then fired another shot. The arrow this time shattered as though it had been fired straight at the metal head of a battering ram.

"Finally starting to notice the pit that you and your companions have dug yourselves?" Aside from Andariel's provocations, the only other warning came from Lissandra who suddenly cried out through the telepathy runes.

"Retreat!"

Because of his spear's reach, Durga was the only one to get back in before Duriel swept his arms around and knocked back all the adventurers and the Necromancer's minions. Now the demon began to move, the mountain of ice shatter and falling away in a moment, revealing that Erica's furious storm of ice attacks had done nothing. The monster let out a horrid roar, but not one filled with furry. In stead it sounded remotely like the thing was in bliss from its pain.

Fenrir recovered first and went for another attack, this time avoiding the swinging cleaver of an arm and climbed up the demon opening his canine jaws wide as he drove his teeth towards Duriel's muscled throat. Aside from the single swipe, the demon did little to defend himself. The reason why was made evident as almost as soon as the Werewolf bit the monster, Fenrir's telepathic scream of pain made Flavie flinch. The demon shook off his attacker and would have impaled the stunned Druid if not for Andrastse's timely intervention. The Paladin's shield let of painful shriek of ripping metal as she deflected Duriel's blow. The kite shield was still in one piece, but only just, however Andrastse pushed forward, focused on driving the monster back as she slashed the monster with a series of zealous blows. Vercingetorix rushed in, pausing to toss Fenrir out of the way before launching his own attack. The combined efforts of Andrastse's zeal and Vercingetorix's sheer might and size managed to physically push the monster back, but only slightly. It almost seemed as though Duriel was playing with them.

Vercingetorix slashed at the massive demon's neck his height allowing him to just be able to reach, but Duriel caught the ax-head between his twisted and jagged razor teeth. The demon only had one mouth though, whereas the Barbarian had two axes. From her viewpoint as she fired some more frustratingly futile shots that merely bounced or shattered on the monster's now harden blood covered hide, the Rogue saw Vercingetorix's ax slash through Duriel's throat, unleashing a large splatter of blood onto the warrior.

Erica unleashed another fearsome barrage of ice magic on the monster, with Shyvana adding in her own elemental shots though they paled in comparison to the mage's frozen onslaught. The resulting blast of blue light made everything look like something out a nightmare as Vercingetorix cried out in pain while Duriel simply shrugged off the Sorceress's attacks and reared back, and brought his claws down towards the Paladin and Barbarian. Both were able to dodge out of the way, though Vercingetorix seemed far worse off then Duriel from the assault. Though the warrior was on his feet, his face was contorted in pain as he tried to shake off the monster's blood as though it burned.

Now Duriel began his attack, but instead of going for either of the weakened northerners on his flanks, the monster charged at Andrastse with an unholy speed that defied what should have been physically possible with the thing's twisted bulk. The demon instantly attacked the Paladin with a blindly fast double strike. Andrastse was only able to dodge the first but was hit straight in the chest by the second and was viciously knocked her back and stunned her. Durga charged the beast, bravely trying to distract it to little effect. Both Flavie and Shyvana's arrows were ineffective though at least some of the Amazon's shots seemed to pierce the monster's flesh while the Rogue's shots just bounced off or shatter.

Lissandra's minions launched an attack on the Duriel's side drawing the monster's attention, giving Andrastse enough time to recover.

"What is this thing? My magic is doing nothing!" Astonishment filled the Sorceress's voice and little wonder. She wasn't alone though. It seemed that while this sibling of Andariel's looked on his last legs, the demon was enjoying himself.

"At last you see that my brother is a masochist." Andariel whispered with a dark foreboding.

"MORE! Give me more!" At least the monster spoke, erasing any doubt. "Slayers of my sister, though you are looking for Baal, I, Duriel, Lord of Pain will be the one to enjoy your torment!" He roared.

"Now it's time to see how well you and your friends will withstand his sadism."

XXX

Once more she staggered to a wall, the agony threatening to drive down into true blackness once more. If she collapsed now, she knew that she would not get up. With each breath, the pain faded and returned again and again like the waves of the ocean. However, the spike passed as the others had and the all consuming need drove her forward again. The reason for her pain, for her anguish. He, the owner of the face had to be close. Over the thundering sound of her blood forcing its way through her veins she could hear the sound of fighting and twisted laughter. It was possible, if not likely that both sounds were merely the last of her fragmenting memories toying with her mind, but she was beyond caring if they were real or not.

At last the endless dark hallway with its path paved with broken bones came to an end with a room. I look like there was nothing, almost making her believe she had lost the trail in her madness and had simply found herself a tomb. Yet as she staggered forward, the sound of more fight came from a hole in the wall that her heavily tunneled vision had missed. As turning back had never been an option, she went towards the hole.

Within it, she first saw nothing but more black with the sounds of cries and something massive moving within and the laughter, now and always the laughter. But as her vision focused through the pain that distorted her vision, she saw the pale woman.

At first she thought she was seeing a maiden of death but fragments of memories concerning the pale woman returned to the Broken's mind. She saw the pale woman raising the dead. Saw her fighting an older evil. Saw her fighting someone who the Broken for a moment remembered was herself. Then it was gone as another spike of pain forced her to her knees.

Once more the Broken looked and saw the pale woman. Now she saw the pale woman between her and her goal. Memories, dreams and nightmare began to dance and fuse together in a twisted fashion Now she saw the pale woman as the reason for her suffering. Now she saw the pale woman as the one whom had taken everything, who had broken her.

Now she hated the pale woman. If the pale woman was dead, then there would be nothing. Nothing between her and the man. Then she would be whole once more, then she would know what she would do, then she would... she would...

The Broken's senses sharpened and to cut through the pain and anguish as a lethal purpose filled her once more.

Now, the pale woman would die.

XXX

Over and over, Lissandra kept on replaying the events in her head, trying to understand just how such a massive demon had gone unnoticed until it had been right on top of them. Just how had her vision missed such a presence?

The ambush had left her mind reeling. The mere thought of something as large as Duriel being able to attack from hiding like that would be unsettling, at the very least, to anyone, but for Lissandra, whom was so used to being able to see nearly everything with her second sight, that was a nightmarish revelation to say the least. As a result, she had been blinded to the demon's identity until the damage had been done.

Now, she was lucky if her summons could even distract the monster. For now she focused on slowing the monster down using the decrepifying curse. While near ineffective, it still did something and reduced the amount of damage that was being inflicted, therefore slowing Duriel's increasing power. But it wasn't enough, it wasn't even anywhere remotely near to being enough.

Even now she could see the others beginning to weaken and while she could see that the Lord of Pain had taken significant damage, the demon was only getting stronger. Lissandra tried to come up with some sort of a solution to end this, all the while doing what she could to keep her summons enough of a threat. The clay golem was sturdy, but the skeletal warriors and mages were able to take only so much damage before the magic or bones that formed them were destroyed. The Necromancer had to be careful, as the only corpses close enough for her to use were those of the insects that had been dissected by the Lord of Pain. The bug corpses were unusable as fuel to summon more skeletons, but may be she could...

Once more Lissandra nearly missed a presence approaching, but she assumed it was one of her allies. It wasn't until she hear the "shink" of hidden blades being unsheathed that the Necromancer realized her mistake. Even though she tried to dodge, Lissandra would have certainly died if if hadn't been for her bone shield. The section magically enchanted bones that the assailant hit shattered from the sheer violence of the blow, pushing the death mage back. The Necromancer was forced to take her focus away from the fight against Duriel and leave her minions on their own, and face this new threat. As her attention was now directed to her would-be attacker, Lissandra could now she that she hadn't been entirely wrong as she moved to avoid a flurry of blade furries.

Though the person's presence was warped and sickened, with enough poison concentrated in her leg that made it shine sickeningly bright to Lissandra's eyes, the Necromancer could tell that she was facing Selene. But that didn't make sense. The attacks had been aimed directly at Lissandra, not at Duriel or Fenrir. Lissandra had no idea why the Assassin was focused on her now. Did it have something to do with her aiding Erica?

The Necromancer didn't get a chance to try to figure out why the Assassin was attacking as her assailant pounced, clearly giving up on her ranged gadgets. Lissandra focused the remaining portions of her bone armor onto her left side, in an effort to allow her to better handle Selene at close quarters without her minions. She just needed a few seconds to gather some mana.

The Assassin's onslaught was brutal, her blows raining down heavily on the handicapped Necromancer, yet something was wrong with Selene's movements. Lissandra was able to hold her own, if Selene had been fighting at full strength, then Lissandra would have been forced to pull back. Instead, the Assassin's moves seemed slow and sloppy, allowing the Necromancer to manage to lock the fighter's blades with her makeshift shield and dagger. There was no way that Lissandra would be able to hold Selene for long, but it gave the death mage a chance to attempt to stop the dark fighter before things got worse. And with the fight with Duriel progressing beyond her now focused sight, the last thing Lissandra needed or wanted was for things to get worse.

"What are you doing S-s-selene? Can't you see the threat we're against?" Lissandra asked, thankful that her stutter was in reasonable control for the moment. She couldn't use the telepathic runes as Selene had refused to use them, and even if she could have, the Necromancer knew that possibly distracting her companions would be disastrous.

Selene's breathing was heavy, filled with pain and exhaustion that carried into her voice. Lissandra was barely able to here the Assassin's words over the frantic struggle against the Lesser Evil nearby. "You... You are in my way... You've taken everything. You're why I can't...I can... I can kill you!"

Even if Lissandra had been able to make sense of the pained rambling, which she couldn't, Selene certainly didn't give her the chance to process her words beyond the threat to her life. The Assassin broke free of the weapon lock and lashed out with her foot, striking the Necromancer squarely in the chest, nearly wind the mage. Lissandra was able to react just in time though, casting a curse on Selene just as the dark fighter kicked the death mage in the face. Stunned, Lissandra fell to the rocky ground, but so to did Selene as the iron maiden curse the Necromancer had cast went into full effect, causing the same damage the Assassin dealt out to be inflicted upon her.

Lissandra got to her feet as fast as she could, expecting Selene to be attacking her once again, but the Assassin was struggling to stand. The sound of the fighting close by was starting to get even more worrisome.

Lissandra adjusted her grip on her ivory dagger, now intent on removing Selene as a threat.

XXX

Pain was everywhere, he could sense it all. From himself, from the desperate human's that surrounded him. The agony was far more potent and pure then that which he had inflicted on himself and the pests that had spawned from his presence. Like the few all too small samples he'd gotten from the angel earlier despite Diablo's orders to only guard the angel.

Now, with his powers building, Duriel could feel that those that faced him had experience even greater pain in their pasts, he could sense the scars. The results of wounds far greater then the few he'd inflicted thus far.

The Lord of Pain gathered his power, his seal blazing in frozen icy blue upon the ground where he stood. A seven-pointed star within a circle, a pair of bloodied torture blades crossed over the body of a flayed angel.

"KNOW PAIN!" The monster roared, and unleashed his magic. His aura activated, and began its cursed work upon the would-be heroes that faced him, seeping into their bodies towards their scars.

As he felt their agony grow, Duriel's own ecstasy began to skyrocket, and with it, came power overwhelming.

XXX

A sudden sharp jolt to his right shoulder was the first that Fenrir felt. At first he was confused, as the spell Duriel had cast seemed to have done nothing. However, more of these sharp and painful hits came about and the werewolf noticed that he as bleeding from these invisible hits. They almost felt like arrows hitting him. One more invisible shot hit him, knocking the air from his lungs right before an old familiar agony ripped itself open across his back. Fenrir could only fall to the ground writhing and scream in silence as pain ruled his world. Worst of all, the reopened claw wound that had been ripped deep into his back dragged the Druid's mind clawing and screaming back into his worst waking nightmare. One beneath the bloodied Eye of Fenris. Through all of it though, Fenrir was still slightly aware of his surroundings. He could feel the rocky floor, cold but not snow covered. He could hear the laughter of Duriel over the roar of the warg and the screams of his pack. And through the blood and dust he caught Selene's sent...

XXX

The recently acquired scar on Shyvana's cheek suddenly burned as it opened and began to bleed. But the Amazon ignored it, trying to find someway to make her arrows effective against Duriel. Then the scar left by Andariel was effected and the resulting agony knocked the wind out of her, bringing Shyvana to her knees. The Amazon first thought it was the Maiden of Anguish's poison breaking through the seal, her mind racing frantically as she fumbled for an antidote potion.

Then, the Lord of Pain's curse reached even older wounds. The only warning of what was to come that Shyvana receive was the feeling the ribs on her left side cracking, exactly like she remembered from a time she would never forget. The Amazon managed to gasp a terrified "No..." before she screamed as she once more felt the pain of her violation.

XXX

Confusion at the sudden appearance of new wounds onto of old scars was soon replaced with a horrified realization in Andrastse's mind of what was happening. The demon sought pain from any source and it was using its power to reopen old wounds. But just far did Duriel's power extend?

The Paladin's question was answered all too soon as she felt her skin on her right arm, most of her lower back and legs begin to burn, boil, blister and burst. Even as her body felt the pain of a burning fire, Andrastse fell to her knees shivering from a cold that gripped at her soul as the agony of remembered flames forced her to relive one of the worst memories of her life. Of when the Paladin lay trapped beneath the burning wreckage of her order, helpless while everyone else died.

XXX

While Durga had only been with the eight adventurers for a relatively short time, the member of the Sand Jackals had grown to respect them for their unwavering strength despite the monsters they faced. Now as he felt the scars of his recent and past battles the only thing he could feel was terror. Terror as several of the others fell, succumbing to terrible wounds of their past. Seeing that now forced Durga to realize that there was no escape.

Other then where the fellowship had entered, there looked to be no other openings and the entrance to the chamber was out of reach. The only way out was if anyone could disengage long enough to open a town portal. However, the chamber's size and Duriel's unholy speed made that near impossible. The only way out was through a monster that fed on its own pain as well as that of others.

One of the Lord of Pain's claws collided with the spearman, knocking him to the ground violently. He managed to get back to his feet but only just. Durga's vision was blurry, his ears were ringing, and he could feel blood dripping down the side of his head. Oddly enough, perhaps due to the blow his head had taken, the mercenary remembered a time when he and his comrades in the Sand Jackals had been cornered. While Greiz wasn't here to lead them to victory this time, the only choices were to either lay down and die or worse, or attack

XXX

The demon's blood had burned badly, but the fading pain paled in comparison to the reawakened wounds that Vercingetorix had gained over his lifetime. While Duriel's blood brought pain, it was nothing compared to being bitten by a yeti in the midst of one of the coldest winters upon the mountains of Kae Huron. Of course that was only one of the scars ripped open by the Lord of Pain's power. The Barbarian felt several of his bones crack and warm blood begin to run down his skin from where his flesh had been ripped open by threats both of Sanctuary and of the Hells. The agony was almost mind numbing, causing Vercingetorix to falter.

Yet only for a moment. The Barbarian grabbed and downed one of his dwindling supply of health potions. The action was more out of reflex then anything, as the potion's effects did little to ease the pain he felt and only healed a limited amount of the damage, but that was all it needed to do. For each of the wounds Vercingetorix had gained was a reminder that he still lived, that he had survived despite all the odds.

The scars were pain that he had defeated once, and he would do so again. With that thought steeling his mind and numbing the pain, Vercingetorix took a deep breath, staring at the monster before him that was reveling in the pain of the Barbarian and the others, like a drunk in the middle of a tub of ale.

"Is that all monster?! You are so weak that you rely on past pain to bring your enemies low?! I know this pain and have conquered it long ago! You wont get that chance, demon!" Vercingetorix roared at the monster as he threw one of his axes, the weapon burying itself deep into a portion of Duriel's left shoulder that wasn't covered by the demon lord's blood.

The Lord of Pain turned his gaze directly on the Barbarian, his attention clearly drawn away from the drunken stupor it had been in. "You call me weak, little creature? Then I will take great pleasure in increasing your torment!" With a sound that sounded like something caught between a laugh and a snarl, Duriel charged Vercingetorix.

XXX

Erica didn't know what to do, all around her her companions were gravely injured by the monster's spell. Yet the Sorceress, aside from a few minor open scars, was all but unharmed. However, she saw that even her most powerful cold spells were useless, barely even able to slow Duriel, let alone do any real damage.

Erica clenched her teeth in absolute frustration. Before the only problem had been the sheer amount of mana consumed by the massive spells she used. But now they'd gone from being almost too effective to being almost nothing in the face of just one foe! Even worse was the way the monster had almost crippled the party with a single spell.

With her second sight, Erica could see the demonic magic working upon the wounds of the others, but there was something else at work. Upon the three in her sight, Shyvana, Andrastse and Fenrir, Erica could see glimpses of something that wasn't from Duriel spell, but seemed to have been triggered by it. It was almost as if the scars that had been opened on those three had activated some of their most anguished memories. Was it some lingering curse of Andariel?

Vercingetorix's war cry drew the Sorceress's back to the fight. She would have to worry about the possibility of a curse later. Right now, Vercingetorix needed help.

But how? How could Erica help when her spells did nothing? And how was the Barbarian still able to fight wounded as he was?

As Duriel charged the northern warrior, Vercingetorix managed to avoid the worst of the demon's attack. The Barbarian then actually stood his ground against the monster's onslaught of viscous swipes and jabs. Yet he was one of the few still able to fight. Durga attempted to aid the hard-pressed warrior, but the fight was quickly becoming one-sided. As there was no support for the two fighters, Lissandra's summons were worryingly absent. The Necromancer's minions must have fallen with the deathmage during Duriel's spell.

Erica caught herself channeling yet another blizzard spell and forced herself to stop, cringing as the energy struggled violently for release within her before dissipating. The spell would only be a waste of mana, as none of her cold spells had even scratched Duriel. Any further attempts with cold based magics would be futile at best.

With most of the spells at her disposal rendered useless, Erica had only one option. Of three seals in the form of simple enchanted bracelets that had been placed on her, the Sorceress had already released the one upon the cold during the Battle of Lut Gholein. There were two remaining, and they were just as dangerous, if not more so. At first, Erica let her grip linger upon the seal that held the power of fire in check, but as she looked around, the elemental mage realized that the entire chamber was completely coated in frost. Not only would fire spells be weakened by the surrounding cold, but the resulting steam caused by the ice and frost melting would push the balance of the fight ever more in the Lord of Pain's favor.

That meant that the better choice would be to remove the seal on her power over lightning. Such action had its own fair share of risks, mainly due to the unpredictable nature of lightning. However between the options of taking the risk of her power running amok and doing absolutely nothing, Erica was willing to gamble.

Erica's fingers griped the thin ornate metal upon her wrist, she could almost feel the electric current pulsing in the bracelet, eager to be freed. For a moment, Erica silently prayed that if the worst came to pass, someone would survive to stop her or Duriel.

Then she ripped off the second seal.

XXX

The Broken or rather Selene as she had once known herself had thought that she was at the apex of the pain she was experiencing. She was wrong. The bites, the poison, the wounds from long ago burned pain into her very soul.

Her scream joined the those of the others, some real others not, some terrified some in pain. Was she screaming because everyone else or was it from her own pain and anguish? The agony reached a point where it shattered the last shred of her scene of reality. To her, it now had become normal to feel pain.

Selene shambled to her feet, her legs barely able to hold her weight despite the Assassin's twisted state of mind. In her madness she felt that only by spreading her pain would she be able to end the anguish that plagued her still. Selene lurched towards her target, blades ready to tear the downed Necromancer apart slowly. The mage had a grimace of pain on her normally expressionless face which made the Broken all the more eager to add to it, maybe she'd start by taking out one of those damned cold sapphire blue eyes.

There was a powerful and oddly familiar blast from across the chamber, a shock wave of electrified air knocking Selene forward violently, towards Lissandra, who raised her dagger, with her necromantic powers flaring up too late.

Though her body was all but saturated with pain, Selene felt the point of something go through her light armor, into her chest and through her ribs. An empty numbness began to spread from where she had been pierced. Momentarily confused, Selene looked down and almost laughed at the sheer look of shock on Lissandra's face, but couldn't because suddenly it was all but impossible to breath.

There was the wet sound of ivory sliding from flesh as the Assassin staggered back. Despite her lack of breath and the steadily spreading numbness, it was relief that Selene felt most strongly.

"Selene! Behind-"

Everything else stopped for Selene as one of Duriel's claws cleaved her in half.

XXX

It had taken every last ounce of control for Lissandra not to scream out in pain as she collapsed, even with her senses numbed as they were, as she felt almost every bone in her body crack. She remembered this pain, though before it had been quickly replaced by a numbness that had nearly consumed her had it not been for the intervention of the being that she would come to know as her kalan.

The Necromancer had no time to reflect on the events that had led to the scars she now suffered from due to the power of the Lord of Pain as the maddened Selene advanced towards the badly crippled death mage. Using her less injured arm, Lissandra raised her dagger towards the Assassin, a curse on her lips to slow the mad woman down. However things changed drastically as a powerful blast of electrified magic from the other side of the chamber violent knocked Selene forward, right onto Lissandra's dagger. The ivory blade went deep into the dark fighter's chest with a startling ease. The Necromancer's magic dissipated and she felt as though she had been punched in the gut as she realized what she had done. But she was also confused. Part of her mind which wasn't fighting off the pain or numbed by the shock wondered why she was shocked at all. Hadn't she considered something like this to be acceptable? Hadn't she prepared herself to get rid of anyone that threatened this quest or the balance as a whole?

Selene's made a strangled and gasping breath that almost sounded as though the fatally injured woman was trying to laugh. As the death mage's mind struggled with the shock, pain and confusion, rendering her as frozen as a corpse in rigor mortis, Lissandra could only watch as Selene staggered back, her life force fading and the noise of the knife sliding from her chest was almost deafening for the Necromancer even cutting through the sound of battle behind the Assassin.

As for the fight with Duriel, Durga's charge allowed Vercingetorix to counterattack the massive monster. The Barbarian struck the monster with a massive blow, making the Lord of Pain stagger back, his arms swinging out of balance. Selene was still lurching back...

Too late the shock wore off, allowing Lissandra to realize just what was about to happen. Fruitlessly she tried to warn the doomed Assassin.

"Selene! Behind-" For once, the Necromancer was unencumbered by her stutter and even then was too slow. Duriel's claw passed through Selene chest, just below her bosom, ripping her in two. Lissandra felt liquid splash across her face, warm at first but it froze in an instant, the cold bite of the freezing blood was lost in the Necromancer's horror. The two pieces of Selene fell almost as if in slow motion, before shattering like glass as they hit the unforgiving rock floor.

The monster regained its balance and looked around as though he had lost something, the growl Duriel made sounding disappointed. That moment was the calm before the storm struck. And it began with an anguished scream.

XXX

Through the pain of his scars and the anguish of his memories, Fenrir's instincts only just managed to force the Druid to his feet. His vision flashed between the reddened snowy night in Scosglen and the chaos unfolding in the rocky chamber beneath the sands of the Aranoch. All the while a scent was the perhaps the only thing keeping the northerner in the present.

In the state he was in, Fenrir was incapable of fighting, but he was too focused on the sent that seemed to promise an escape from the nightmare threatening to trap him once more. Even if it was the sent of the one who had betrayed him, anything was better then having to relive the warg's attack. If he could find her, find Selene, maybe he find out why and break completely free of the grip his memories had on him. It was shallow and faulty reasoning but Fenrir was desperate. Already he could hear the warg's approach, and the scar the monster had left on his back was burning so badly that the Druid could barely stand in the wake of the magic blast.

Using Moonfang to keep himself on his feet, Fenrir dared not move less he wind up being caught in the clash against Duriel or the warg. For the Druid, memory and reality were beginning to blur as he began to see the forms of his lost pack among the few of the fellowship he could see in the black haze his vision had become. Somehow though, with the aid of his nose, the terrified and desperate northerner spotted Selene as Duriel's bulk was pushed back by those still in the fight.

Something was wrong though, the Assassin was staggering back unsteadily. As she did so, Fenrir spotted Lissandra, arm raised towards Selene. The sudden appearance of the Necromancer's bone white hair triggered Fenrir's nightmare forward as the Druid felt the warg's claws rip open his back once more, driving him to his knees. The injured man couldn't even scream as time seemed to slow while memory and reality overlapped with a horrifying and demonic precision.

In a single moment, Fenrir saw two of the women he had loved be torn apart. White hair caught between bloody fangs and claws, a black lightly armored body ripped in half by a massive claw.

There was nothing for the human but to scream from an anguish that was worse then the pain that ate away at him.

XXX

Were it not for the fact that Diablo wasn't suffering with the heroes, Andariel would have been near as a ecstatic as her twin toyed with them, his power even triggering her death curse upon some of them. Yet the Maiden of Anguish could sense that the Lord of Terror wasn't even close, nor was his brother Baal. The heroes had been far too late. Andariel did faintly sense the presence of Tyrael, though it was severely weakened and steadily fading.

Flavie was still able to fight, but all her skill and training was worthless against the Lord of Pain in his element. Andariel's little host had fired arrow after arrow and used what little magic arts she had up her sleeve. All of it had been laughably pathetic, the arrows simply bounced off of the dried blood that coated Duriel's hide and the Rogue's magic hadn't even irritated him. Flavie was aware of this, and the Maiden of Anguish could feel her skyrocketing frustration and desperation.

Andariel made the decision to create an opportunity for herself and the heroes. She certainly wanted them to suffer, but more then that she wanted them to do so only after they had caught Diablo.

"Are you going to let your companions die, just for the sake of pride?" She whispered to Flavie as the Rogue fired again and moved.

"Shut up..." Flavie growled desperately, but there was a waver in her voice. Andariel kept pushing.

"You have the power to end this. Duriel feeds off pain, but he has no defense against my own power. Use it or you all will long for death before long!" Of course it was possible for the humans to pull off a miracle and win against Duriel, but those that actually survived long enough wouldn't be in any shape to continue the hunt.

"I-I-I..." The Rogue faltered, both in her mental resistance to Andariel and in her attempts to fight against Duriel.

"Decide now, while the Barbarian and Spearwielder have my Brother distracted! Embrace the power and save them!" The Maiden of Anguish was beginning to grow tired and was even contemplating forcing the Rogue as she had before with the vision, but quickly found a solution by slipping past Flavie's weakened mental barriers. She then made some the Rogue see the memories of when she was at her weakest. Andariel even threw in one of her own, Duriel standing victorious over the suffering bodies of hundreds of angels, though Flavie saw the demon standing over the fallen heroes instead as the Maiden of Anguish quickly disguised it.

Flavie's eye widened as she saw what Andariel wanted her to see. Her breathing became shallow as the Rogue was made to see how weak she really was in the demon's eyes.

"...No...I need more power..." The Rogue mumbled, letting the Maiden of Anguish know that she was victorious. "What.." Flavie swallowed the words, not believing that she was actually uttering them, yet they came out quite easily. "What must I do?"

Taking the briefest of instants to calm herself slightly, Andariel told the Rogue what needed to be done and then braced herself to handle a portion of her proper power. Flavie placed her hand on the eye patch that kept the demonic "gift" hidden. The last sign of resistance the archer showed was the hesitation in removing it. But that hesitation completely vanished as Vercingetorix pushed back Duriel, a move that resulted in Selene's demise. As Fenrir's scream sounded and the ominous sound of crackling electric power mounted, the Rogue tore off the eye patch, revealing the demonic eye, the shard of one of Andariel's mirrors, the Lesser Evil had implanted.

The resulting rush of anguish that flowed into the now fully awakened shard almost knocked Flavie unconscious and might have even shattered her mind if Andariel had not held the onrushing tide back. However, the over-saturation of anguish that flowed into the Rogue, both new and old, from the humans and demon lord, mixed deliciously, meant that she and the Lesser Evil would only have one shot before the pleasure of absorbing the suffering made Flavie pass out.

Flavie gasped, her human eye wide, her legs shaking not from fear, but from the sheer rush of pleasure she felt as the energy flowed into her demonic eye. Her heart raced and the entirety of her vision sharpened to a clarity she had never seen before, even when both her eyes had human. The Rogue felt as though she could do anything, even slay Duriel and at the same time had to resist the urge to indulge in the pleasure coursing through her veins.

With Andariel's aid, Flavie raised her bow and notched her last arrow, aiming for the Prince of Pain. The Maiden of Anguish told her host the words to a spell that she had made especially for dealing with her brother whenever they were at odds.

"You have one shot, my dear, don't waste it. And I'll be visiting you shortly." With that Andariel retreated to feed upon the new and abundant energy that flowed into her host, getting ready to greet the Rogue once she lost consciousness.

With her bowstring drawn taunt, Flavie had to focus intensely to pronounce the last words that Andariel had told her. The pleasure that flowed through her overwhelmed any shame or regret that she had for giving into the Lesser Evil's fragment. All there was for the Rogue was the demonic power that flowed like a glowing, green, poisonous tar onto the arrow head and her target. She managed to speak the words, the demon speech cutting through all the noise, only Andariel and Duriel understanding their meaning.

"FEEL NOTHING"

Then Flavie fired. She stayed conscious long enough to see her arrow hit Duriel right in his left eye as an immense blast of lightning struck the monster from the right. Then all the light and noise faded as the Rogue fell into unconsciousness and Andariel's clutches.

XXX

The Lord of Pain froze as he heard his sister's trump card against him. But how? Andariel had been slain before Diablo had brought him to guard Tyrael's prison. Before the Lord of Pain could look for the source, the Rogue's arrow struck his left eye, piercing it and blinding the monster on his left side. At first there was the pain of the point piercing the orb, the impact of the arrow's momentum halting as it hit the edge of his eye socket. Then a void began to spread.

It wasn't a numbness caused by blood-loss or poison. Rather it was an invisible blade that sliced through his nerves, severing them and causing all the pain Duriel felt, his own and those of the humans to vanish into an empty abyss. It was as though the absence caused by the accidental death of the most gravely injured of the humans had spread like a deadly infection.

As all the pain feeding him vanished, Duriel felt his power rapidly drain away, leaving only an anguished emptiness.

The stricken Lord of Pain wasn't even given the chance to react as he was blinded by a blazing electrified light on his right. The mostly uninjured Sorceress's body overflowed with magical power, the lightning threatening to cause the staff she held to shatter violently, her eyes blazing with electric blue light. With a thundering boom, the Sorceress unleashed the power in a massive blast of lightning, striking Duriel's right side. The demon felt nothing, and that was the worst possible thing for the Lord of Pain. It was made even worse as the full force electric current struck Duriel's right eye, causing it to explode and reduced the demon's remaining vision from blinding white to a final darkness.

Duriel still lived, but now his source of power was lost, he felt nothing, not his pain nor that of his foes, not even his movements. He saw nothing. The Prince of Pain flailed in a anguished void still living but trapped in his own personal hell.

XXX

As Fenrir's mind threatened to tear itself apart, the Feral was once more able to break through the weakened barrier that of the collar that had been placed on them. The Feral was aware of everything that had transpired and was aware of an even greater threat to both of their survival.

The scar, the last remnant of the warg that had nearly killed the two of them, blazed with the intense pain that felt as fresh as the night it had happened. Yet it wasn't the pain alone that threatened the Feral, nor the anguish that was consuming Fenrir. It was what the scar was connected to, a secret that the Feral had kept buried for both their sakes. A dark truth that was now under threat of being uncovered by the Druid, leaving the wild personality with little choice but to take action once more.

As the Feral assumed control, the Druid's body began to adapt some of the features of the werewolf form though he had not transformed. Fangs grew in his mouth, his finger nails became claws. Mana began to overflow from the Druid's body, making him begin to glow with a angry crimson light while the collar on him was searing hot as it worked frantically to disperse the dangerous amount of power and force the Feral back into the cage within Fenrir's mind.

The Feral watched the now blinded Lord of Pain thrash chaotically considering running, but only briefly. Vercingetorix and Durga fought to keep the crippled monster from attack the still recovering Amazon and Paladin while Erica's new awoken electric attacks slammed into the demon one after another with all the wrath of a thunder storm.

While he personally didn't care if Fenrir's new found "pack" lived or died, the animalistic personality was all too aware that somehow the human persona would take control once more and undoubted wouldn't take the likely deaths of these humans well.

So the Feral decided to focus all of his anger and Fenrir's grief on the vulnerable demon in front of them. The Druid let out a very inhuman and bloodthirsty growl and shifted into the larger werewolf form that had nearly killed the Assassin. This time though, there were two fully charged mana orbs of feral rage orbiting the beast. With a bloodthirsty howl the Feral plunged his claws into the orbs, the fire of the sun-like spheres flowing up the werewolf's forearms, covering them like gauntlets made of blood-moon red flames and launched his attack.

With the boost from the feral rage doubled its normal maximum, the Feral's first couple of lunges resulted in shallow hits and frustrating misses. He even came dangerously close to injuring the others of the fellowship. One such instance was when the Feral nearly landed on Lissandra. Were it not for the Necromancer's bone armor and the fact that she mostly avoided the raging werewolf, the Feral's momentum could grievously injured if not killed her. If the beast wasn't so focused on Duriel, he might have noticed Lissandra flinch a little more then the normal calm woman would have.

However the Feral quickly manage to adapt to his newfound speed and power, even managing to use the vine that was latched on and fed on the Druid's mana, growing strong and big enough to root into the ground for sharp turns and sudden stops. Even so, the countless wounds from his own attack and the party's were still having little effect on the wildly thrashing and shrieking demon lord whose movements had only slowed slightly. So the Feral opted for a more direct approach by digging his reinforced claws deep into Duriel's flesh. The burning acidic blood was easily ignored in the rage fueled mind of the Feral, who rapidly climbed from the Lord of Pain's maggot-like lower half and up the monster's back. The voices of the other humans echoed distantly both in his head and ears but the Feral didn't listen, the beast intent on ripping Duriel's throat out and watching the demon drown in his own blood. Even as several arcs of Erica's lightning attacks struck both the demon and the werewolf, strong enough to break through the cyclone armor that howled around the werewolf's body, but the Feral used the ever increasing saturation of pain to fuel his rage, to a point were the beast was all but possessed by his hatred.

Duriel blindly slammed one of his massive claws into the chamber floor with such force that the monster staggered, nearly falling over. The demon lord's loss of balance nearly threw off the frenzied werewolf, catapulting the beast over the Lord of Pain's shoulder. The claws of the Feral's left hand kept him hanging, but at a perfect angle for his poisoned jaws to rip deep into the side Duriel's throat. His fangs crunched through the carapace of coagulated blood and into the surprisingly tender flesh beneath. The Feral held and even strengthened his bite's grip even as Duriel's thrashed and the burning demonic blood flowed down the werewolf's throat. It wasn't until the feeling of his entire body melting and the need to breath forced the Feral to pull his head back, tearing out a sizable chunk of Duriel's throat in the process.

It was impossible to tell if the demon actually noticed the frenzied werewolf, but regardless Duriel shook off the raging beast. Pushing himself from the ground, the Feral ripped apart the flesh trapped in his maw, unintentionally swallowing most of it and howled out his hatred and frustration as he realized that the Lord of Pain was still able to breath despite the cascade of blood pouring from his neck.

Vercingetorix shouted something at the Feral, no doubt thinking that the werewolf's actions were Fenrir's. However the commotion caused from Duriel's chaotic thrashing movement and his anguished roars cut off the Barbarian's voice. The Lord of Pain's right claw thrashed towards the werewolf. In blind rage and instinct, the Feral lashed out with the power contained in the feral rage orbs that he had absorbed into his claws.

The resulting effect caught even the Feral by surprise as the over-pressured, burning mana erupted in the form of a large crimson crescent slash that sliced into Duriel, separating the monster's right arm and with it the claw that had been headed towards the werewolf and causing it to crash into the ground harmlessly.

The sudden loss of the charged mana coupled with the surprise of the newfound discovery caused the Feral to faultier for a second too long. The Lord of Pain's remaining arm smashed into the werewolf as the demon thrashed even more violently then before, sending the beast flying uncontrollably into a man-made wall.

Mere moments before impacting with the unforgiving stone, the Feral dug deep and accessed the full power that he had buried with the memories.

XXX

The cavern shook all around them. It was hard to say what had done more damage to their surroundings, Duriel's chaotic thrashing and blind attacks, or Fenrir's sudden, maddened, burst of power.

Another blinding electric arc blasted into the bloodied and crippled Lord of Pain, making Vercingetorix fall to his knees as he tripped over a jutting rock. As the blast faded, the Barbarian blinked away the spots in his vision and tried to find some way to finally put the demon lord down. But the question was how? Despite being covered in his own blood, blind and an arm short, the Lord of Pain's movement had only slowed slightly.

Unable to come up with any plausible plan, Vercingetorix could only charge back into the fray, careful to make sure that Duriel was between him and the lightning storm that all but engulfed Erica. The Barbarian's axes had held up incredibly well for southern forged weapons, but now he really longed for the massive weapons of the forges of Harrogath, or any of the other forges scattered in the steppes and mountains of Killaroon. Hacking away at the Lord of Pain's shell of blood and the tough muscle beneath had given less then glorious results. Vercingetorix even caught himself beginning to doubt if the demon lord could be killed.

Lissandra's earthen golem rushed past the hesitating Barbarian, slamming into the maggot-like lower half of Duriel. The Lesser Evil was too large to be thrown back by such an impact, but it seemed as though the construct was intent on doing as Fenrir had, climbing onto the monster's back. Yet instead of climbing up the demon lord's back completely, the golem began slamming its fists into the bloodied insectoid back of the monster.

Vercingetorix's first though was that the summon was just mindlessly attacking the monster, that Lissandra was still out of the fight as she had been just before the Lord of Pain had cast his spell. His maneuvers to avoid Duriel's flailing lunge, which seemed to be slowly getting more accurate as his howling decreased, allowed him to catch a glimpse of the death mage.

Dim pale light surrounded Lissandra where she leaned against the wall, clearly unable to support her own weight, as shard of bone and rock flowed towards her in a vortex, coming together to form a large half formed spear.

"Vercingetorix, Durga, push Duriel back!" Whatever pain the Necromancer was experiencing was evident in her normally emotionless voice as it frantically echoed through the Barbarian's mind.

"What?!" Shouted the spear wielding mercenary, narrowly avoiding a slash. "Is she blind?"

Another voice spoke in their minds, Andrastse, but filled with agony and anguish to such an extent that each word sounded like a struggle for her. "Above...The ceiling..."

Looking up, the two warriors was many stalactites shuddering on the cavern ceiling, their points looking like the fangs of an enormous beast ready to chomp down on its prey. One of the was far larger then the other, maybe even large enough to skewer even Duriel... And with that, Vercingetorix figured out the plan.

Another massive bolt of lightning blasted from Erica, striking the Lord of Pain's head. The resulting shock caused the monster's mouth to slam shut, the demon's own teeth biting his tongue clean off, finally silencing Duriel. With that blast of lightning, it seemed as though the Sorceress had exhausted herself as the electricity around her faded into nothing. That meant that there was no longer a danger of friendly fire by her might, allow Vercingetorix and Durga to focus on some way to lure or force the Lord of Pain under the large stalactite. Fortunately, Duriel still had his hearing and now that he had been silenced, the demon lord was starting to become accurate with his attacks once more.

At last, Duriel was below the massive stone spear. "Do it now!" Vercingetorix shouted as he barely avoided the spray of Duriel's acidic blood.

Like a deathly shooting star, the reinforced bone spear raced towards its target, striking it right at the base. For a horrifying second, it looked as though it wasn't enough, but then with a great shuddering crack, the stalactite fell straight down, its point hitting Duriel's maggot-like mass. The resulting cloud of debris from the impact obscured the demon lord from sight.

"That thing has to be dead now." Durga managed between heavy pants, leaning on his spear for keep himself from falling. Vercingetorix wasn't so certain, but he didn't have the breath to reply.

The Barbarian's suspicions were confirmed as Duriel's claw swept out of the dust cloud towards the unprepared mercenary. Durga was only save by Andrastse, who was close enough and managed to react quickly to get herself and her shield between him and the demon's claw. However, the resulting blow sent the pair of fighters hurtling across the chamber, past the Barbarian, shards of Andrastse's shield grazing him.

The dust cleared, giving Vercingetorix a clear view of the struggling monstrosity. The beast still lived but now it was impaled by the stalactite, and thereby immobilized.

Were it not for his need to save up what stamina and breath he had left, the Barbarian would have howled in frustration. This battle had been more than challenging, but now the monster just would not die! That was on top of the suffering the thing had inflicted to his comrades, not just Shyvana, whom was still stricken by something more then just Duriel's curse.

From behind the monster, there was the sound rocks falling and a animal's growl, but not one that Vercingetorix recognized. It sounded like the mixture of wolf and bear. Then a blazing wave of crimson light blasted towards Duriel's back, slashing into it. The attack was so uncontrolled that the Barbarian was forced to dive down to avoid getting sliced by it. It was the same attack that Fenrir had used to slice off Duriel's arm. As for the Druid in question, Vercingetorix saw a massive form collapse from where the attack had come. Strange as it was, the weary warrior's attention was drawn to a growing burning pain from his hand. It was in a small puddle of Duriel's blood, the cursed liquid seeped into his glove, slowly and agonizingly eating away at the skin on his hand. With a curse he pulled his hand back, shaking it in a futile effort to lessen the pain. However, the source of that particular puddle made him forget most of his pain and fatigue.

Vercingetorix had found the perfect weapon to rip apart Duriel with the demon's own severed arm. Gripping the appendage was both awkward and painful. The arm itself was a massive wide handle for the claw and it was covered in the demon's blood. If Duriel had been able to move, then trying to adjust to the improvised weapon would have been the worst possible move he could have made. But that wasn't a problem.

Vercingetorix swung with all his strength, aiming for where the crimson wind had already cut into the demon's back. It took two clumsy but brutal swings to cut through Duriel's torso, severing the demon in two. Even so, the Lord of Pain seemed unable to feel anything and still thrashed about, clawing and snapping in Vercingetorix's direction. Unsurprised at this point, he tried to take off Duriel's head, but with the dismembered demon's thrashing he ended up burying the make-shift weapon into the demon's shoulder. This allowed the Lord of Pain's teeth and blood filled maw to come all too close to the Barbarian.

While almost everyone else in the party was down, Lissandra was still in the fight. The eerie light of her mana illuminated the Necromancer as she made a clawed hand as though gripping something and then pulled savagely towards herself. From the impaled half of Duriel shot another bone spear, this one completely covered in the demon's blood and gore, that skewered the monster's torso.

That enabled the Barbarian to rip his makeshift weapon free and bring it down with full force down onto the Lord of Pain's neck, separating the monster's head from his body in a single blow. As Duriel's head hit the ground with a wet and heavy thud Vercingetorix finally let go of the the beast's arm, his hands utterly saturated with the monster's and his own blood, and dared to attempt to recover slightly.

Where she leaned, Lissandra slumped down to the floor, a quiet, pained groan escaping her lips. Durga and Andrastse struggled to their feet where they had landed from the demon lord's hit. Erica was barely able to stand, relying on her staff which bore some heavy charring from the lightning that had cascaded across it. The only three who didn't get to their feet were Fenrir, who lay in the shadows, Flavie, where she had passed out after the demonic shot, and Shyvana, who now lay curled up, looking the most vulnerable Vercingetorix had ever seen her.

With adrenaline still numbing the worst of the pain, the Barbarian went towards the downed Amazon, to check on her.

Duriel's jaw twitched as the weary warrior strode heavily past. Vercingetorix dismissed it as the last spasms on the monster, for surely the thing had to be dead now. He came far too close to been fatally wrong.

"Vercingetorix!" Lissandra's warning shouted through his mind just as he heard something moving behind him. Like a snake's freshly cut head, Duriel's open maw lunged towards the Barbarian. He only had a split second to realize that he couldn't dodge, for Shyvana was only just starting to stir. So he did the only thing he could. Vercingetorix managed to get his boot through the demon's lower jaw and catch two of creature's longer upper fangs with his hands, halting the head's forward momentum in its tracks and only just holding the monster back from biting him in half. From there it was a contest between Duriel's massive jaw strength against the Barbarian's flagging reserves. Everything became distant as the northerner focused everything on surviving. He wasn't going to let himself die to the last desperate moments of a doomed demon!

There was a noticeable impact through the demon's maw and Vercingetorix felt the pressure weaken slightly, but just enough that he was able to start pushing back. With one last savage cry, the warrior put all of his remaining strength into his arms, pushing the demon's jaw up, further and further until there was a loud and brutal snap. Then Duriel's maw fell limp, away from the Barbarian, impaled by yet another spear and his jaw opened wider then the demon's bones could take.

At last, after a cursed battle of agony and anguish, the Lord of Pain, was truly dead.

XXX

Well here it is. The Duriel fight... And holy shit I'VE KILLED SOMEONE!

I'm aware that Selene wasn't one of my best created characters, but still, it was still a shock for me when I wrote that part...And I had planned this from the get-go!

Anyways Sorry for the wait folks and thank you for being so patient with my lazy ass. Let me know what you guys thought of this chapter. Did I manage to capture that feeling of utter panic of being trapped in a pit with a gigantic maggot with scythes?

Yours in getting ready to set sail,

AC-107