DISCLAIMER: I don't own Diablo II in any way shape or form except for the
expansion CD that I got for Christmas.
WARNINGS: This story will eventually contain SLASH. That means m/m relationships. If you don't like that, go read 'To The Gates of Hell' by Qualinesti. Flames will be laughed at.
AN: Dedicated to two people: Qualinesti, for their wonderful story 'To The Gates of Hell', which got me hooked on this fandom in the first place; and Kip-chan, for showing interest in me and my writings at a time when I needed it most. Thanks a lot, and I'm working on the WL fic. Is Brad/Wayne okay? ^_~
********
The Iron Maiden's Prayer
By Jada Flame
********
It was raining. Again.
Indo shivered and drew his cloak a bit closer to his body. Not that the sopping piece of fabric held any warmth, but more out of habit and for the peace of mind that he was doing all he could, short of tearing his waterproof pack open and draping it over his head.
*But then my bow would get wet,* Indo thought with a humorless grin, *and how am I supposed to be the bane of demons without that?*
He slogged on through the tall grass, rain softened dirt sucking at his thin leather footwear and threatening to mire him in the midst of the bog. Halting under the damp shelter of one of the sparse trees that dotted the landscape, Indo set his bow bag against the trunk. He wrung water first out of his cloak, then out of his hair, long strands slapping wetly against his cheek.
Satisfied for the moment, Indo leaned against the tree and allowed himself a moment's rest from his journey. His eyes drooped shut and he slid down the tree, breathing deep and even.
********
"All right, FIRE!"
The wave of arrows thudded into the lead row of Brutes. With varied animalistic grunts and cries, they fell or attempted to flee, only getting pushed back into arrow range by the tide of charging creatures behind them.
Kashya smiled tightly amid her shouted orders. *The battle is going well,* she thought. Her Rogues were aiming well, felling most of the beasts that were hit. A flash of blue out of the corner of her eye signaled Akara's return to the battle from her tent, where she dashed for potions when her mana had run low. Kashya noticed a row of the bright blue bottles hanging from the priestess' belt as she turned to fire another volley of arrows into the fray.
A Glacial Spike roared ahead of her arrows and froze a Brute, which shattered with the impact of Kashya's projectile. In the lulls between arrow firings, Charsi roared into battle, swinging her smithing hammer with a passion normally associated with her metalworking. Demor, a recently arrived warrior who had been with them about a week, joined her, swinging a sword that seemed to be an extension of his armor plated body. He was a Piladian or Pilidain or something like that. Neither he nor Kashya being the talking type, they hadn't gotten to know each other beyond names.
She notched another arrow and paused to let Demor swing at another Brute. With surprising agility, it moved out of range of the strike, twisting to let its great arm swing down in a deadly arc towards the warrior. In the split second before the swing connected, a halo of what appeared to be shards of light sparkled into being around the fighter's body. Thinking this was a last-ditch protective shield to save himself, Kashya was surprised to see Demor stagger under the blow. She was even more astonished, however, when the Brute reeled back in a flash of light, roared in pain, and fell over dead with small, knife-like wounds all over its body. Kashya had no time to ponder the death, because at that moment the leader of the small army rose up behind his troops.
Treehead Woodfist.
She barely had time to shout a warning before Treehead moved with impossible speed over to Demor and struck a crushing blow on the warrior's torso, which was still surrounded by the light shards. The armor crumpled inward like so much paper, but Demor looked to be conscious and mostly unhurt. The same could not be said for Treehead, however.
He was stronger than the other Brutes; that was apparent. Demor's badly dented breastplate could attest to that. But the warrior's aura had, if possible, produced an even bigger flash at Treehead's hit, which in turn had produced bigger payback. Treehead was sent reeling backwards several feet to crash into a Brute corpse, deep wounds sprouting all over his body. He staggered, glanced at his army, which had been decimated during the battle, and fled.
Demor gulped a healing potion from his belt, shouted that he was going to finish Treehead off, and removed his breastplate before wading through the carnage after the retreating leader. He paused to slice through the last standing Brute and disappeared into the marsh. The rain began to fall.
********
Demor blinked water out of his eyes as he ran after Treehead. His battle rage was beginning to fade, but he wasn't letting Treehead escape. The Brute had hurt him too badly for that. With the help of his Vigor aura, he closed the distance on Treehead.
********
Indo stirred under his tree. A low rumble had awakened him. *Probably thunder…* He prepared to go back to sleep.
********
A smirk wound its way onto Demor's face as Treehead barreled towards his cranium's namesake. *Probably doesn't even realize that sapling's there…* He decided to let the Brute stun himself on the tree, and then finish him off. His thoughts ground to a halt when he noticed something under the tree… something human-shaped. *What in the name of the Light…* He shouted a warning, too late.
********
Indo opened his eyes in time to see Treehead's bulk bearing down on him a split second before he was knocked from under the tree to land in a puddle, head banging against the ground, arm and leg swinging brokenly, his world exploding into a universe of pain. He swam in and out of blackness long enough to feel someone pick him up from the water. He thought he heard shouting, but it was all muddled in his head. As the water dripped from the sky onto his face, his last thought before the blessedly numb darkness took him was of how much he hated the rain…
WARNINGS: This story will eventually contain SLASH. That means m/m relationships. If you don't like that, go read 'To The Gates of Hell' by Qualinesti. Flames will be laughed at.
AN: Dedicated to two people: Qualinesti, for their wonderful story 'To The Gates of Hell', which got me hooked on this fandom in the first place; and Kip-chan, for showing interest in me and my writings at a time when I needed it most. Thanks a lot, and I'm working on the WL fic. Is Brad/Wayne okay? ^_~
********
The Iron Maiden's Prayer
By Jada Flame
********
It was raining. Again.
Indo shivered and drew his cloak a bit closer to his body. Not that the sopping piece of fabric held any warmth, but more out of habit and for the peace of mind that he was doing all he could, short of tearing his waterproof pack open and draping it over his head.
*But then my bow would get wet,* Indo thought with a humorless grin, *and how am I supposed to be the bane of demons without that?*
He slogged on through the tall grass, rain softened dirt sucking at his thin leather footwear and threatening to mire him in the midst of the bog. Halting under the damp shelter of one of the sparse trees that dotted the landscape, Indo set his bow bag against the trunk. He wrung water first out of his cloak, then out of his hair, long strands slapping wetly against his cheek.
Satisfied for the moment, Indo leaned against the tree and allowed himself a moment's rest from his journey. His eyes drooped shut and he slid down the tree, breathing deep and even.
********
"All right, FIRE!"
The wave of arrows thudded into the lead row of Brutes. With varied animalistic grunts and cries, they fell or attempted to flee, only getting pushed back into arrow range by the tide of charging creatures behind them.
Kashya smiled tightly amid her shouted orders. *The battle is going well,* she thought. Her Rogues were aiming well, felling most of the beasts that were hit. A flash of blue out of the corner of her eye signaled Akara's return to the battle from her tent, where she dashed for potions when her mana had run low. Kashya noticed a row of the bright blue bottles hanging from the priestess' belt as she turned to fire another volley of arrows into the fray.
A Glacial Spike roared ahead of her arrows and froze a Brute, which shattered with the impact of Kashya's projectile. In the lulls between arrow firings, Charsi roared into battle, swinging her smithing hammer with a passion normally associated with her metalworking. Demor, a recently arrived warrior who had been with them about a week, joined her, swinging a sword that seemed to be an extension of his armor plated body. He was a Piladian or Pilidain or something like that. Neither he nor Kashya being the talking type, they hadn't gotten to know each other beyond names.
She notched another arrow and paused to let Demor swing at another Brute. With surprising agility, it moved out of range of the strike, twisting to let its great arm swing down in a deadly arc towards the warrior. In the split second before the swing connected, a halo of what appeared to be shards of light sparkled into being around the fighter's body. Thinking this was a last-ditch protective shield to save himself, Kashya was surprised to see Demor stagger under the blow. She was even more astonished, however, when the Brute reeled back in a flash of light, roared in pain, and fell over dead with small, knife-like wounds all over its body. Kashya had no time to ponder the death, because at that moment the leader of the small army rose up behind his troops.
Treehead Woodfist.
She barely had time to shout a warning before Treehead moved with impossible speed over to Demor and struck a crushing blow on the warrior's torso, which was still surrounded by the light shards. The armor crumpled inward like so much paper, but Demor looked to be conscious and mostly unhurt. The same could not be said for Treehead, however.
He was stronger than the other Brutes; that was apparent. Demor's badly dented breastplate could attest to that. But the warrior's aura had, if possible, produced an even bigger flash at Treehead's hit, which in turn had produced bigger payback. Treehead was sent reeling backwards several feet to crash into a Brute corpse, deep wounds sprouting all over his body. He staggered, glanced at his army, which had been decimated during the battle, and fled.
Demor gulped a healing potion from his belt, shouted that he was going to finish Treehead off, and removed his breastplate before wading through the carnage after the retreating leader. He paused to slice through the last standing Brute and disappeared into the marsh. The rain began to fall.
********
Demor blinked water out of his eyes as he ran after Treehead. His battle rage was beginning to fade, but he wasn't letting Treehead escape. The Brute had hurt him too badly for that. With the help of his Vigor aura, he closed the distance on Treehead.
********
Indo stirred under his tree. A low rumble had awakened him. *Probably thunder…* He prepared to go back to sleep.
********
A smirk wound its way onto Demor's face as Treehead barreled towards his cranium's namesake. *Probably doesn't even realize that sapling's there…* He decided to let the Brute stun himself on the tree, and then finish him off. His thoughts ground to a halt when he noticed something under the tree… something human-shaped. *What in the name of the Light…* He shouted a warning, too late.
********
Indo opened his eyes in time to see Treehead's bulk bearing down on him a split second before he was knocked from under the tree to land in a puddle, head banging against the ground, arm and leg swinging brokenly, his world exploding into a universe of pain. He swam in and out of blackness long enough to feel someone pick him up from the water. He thought he heard shouting, but it was all muddled in his head. As the water dripped from the sky onto his face, his last thought before the blessedly numb darkness took him was of how much he hated the rain…