Disclaimers, and Such:
Once again, about the same as before. One note, however. Shadera is MINE. My name, my character, mine. Designed to be pronounced sha-dair-a, but if you don't wanna read it that way, its up to you.
Blizzard owns Diablo, and all related trademarks, in case you forgot between part 1 and part 2.
And thank you all for the great reviews! 'Ere we Go!
Part 3
Damn, this sun is hot, thought Az'Ral for about the hundredth time since leaving Lut Gholien. They were traveling through the deserts of Aranoch, looking for the Halls of the Dead that Cain had mentioned to Firiel. The necromancer wiped the sweat from his face, but then chuckled to himself. Still, hot as I may be, I'd hate to be that paladin. He's got to be roasting himself alive in that armor. Aaahhh, poor fool. Nothing but leapers and sand in every direction. He thought to himself, just as a sand leaper popped out of the sand and leapt over his head, only to be skewered by Rage as it hit the ground.
"I believe that's my twelfth leaper," Rage commented. "How many has everyone else gotten? I lost track of the irritating creatures awhile ago."
"Lucky seven for me." said Az'Ral.
"I think I've had nine." put in Darkangel.
"Still have to catch up to my sixteen, Rage." joked Firiel.
"Don't you all have anything better to do than count how many creatures you've slain?" asked Iconnus wearily.
"Spirit Wing says not to forget her nine as well." Darkangel reminded them.
"In other words, no," laughed Firiel. "We've been walking this wasteland desert for at least an hour looking for these 'Halls of the Dead'. So far, only sand, and sand leapers. So, in order to keep from dying of boredom, we can either count sand grains, or leapers. I prefer leapers. Hey! Look!" the sorceress pointed into the air at three "birds" flying overhead. "Scavenger demons. These beasts are mine."
She raised her arms, and charged the air with electrical energy. Sensing the threat, the scavengers swooped at Firiel, as she let fly with her own counterstrike. Lightning arced from her fingertips, hit the first demon, then jumped to the other two. They screeched in pain, but kept up their plummeting dive. Another bolt of chained lighting followed, and then a fireball. The flying demons exploded into a shower of burnt feathers and charred flesh.
Firiel smoothed her static hair back down.
"That's sixteen leapers, and three scavengers."
Rage groaned.
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The Huntress's scout had returned, telling her of the heroes' whereabouts. "Good," she purred. "They near our place of ambush. Gather the rest of the band. Tell then to be ready. It would appear that our cowardly friend has decided not to make her appearance. No matter, it saves me the trouble of killing her myself. Go, get your weapons."
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However, the Huntress was wrong. Her 'cowardly friend' was planning on making an appearance. And she was not planning on getting killed. She was once again following the group as they made their way toward the saber cats' trap. She circled around the party and sprinted ahead, finding her own ambush point. Now she had a clear view of both the band of cats, and the group of traveling companions. Now, she was ready. She sharpened her claws one final time, and adjusted the light armor she wore. She also tossed aside her concealing cloak. She would not need it anymore after this was over, one way or another.
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Ten minutes and eight twisted vulture creatures later finds the party of six at the Huntress's attack site. Firiel suddenly spoke up, voicing a concern she had been feeling since she first saw the winged demons.
"Has anyone else noticed something strange? These demons are-"
"You've finally stopped counting how many creatures you have so callously slain?" retorted Inconnus angrily. "Or perhaps it's that we have been traveling through a scorching desert with a necromancer hardly worth the name?"
Az'Ral's hand went to his dagger, without thinking. "You want a piece of me, Holy Knight? Of course, I hear that the 'devout and pious' followers of Zakarum aren't so holy anymore. Problems back at home? Religion and duty not working out like it's supposed to?"
Iconnus's brown eyes burned at the insult, which had struck home. Partly because it was so true. And he knew it. How can he know? It has been kept secret. No one can know that unless they live there... What right does he have!! He gave up thinking about it right there. It didn't matter how the necromancer knew. He had been challenged.
"At least I have a religion, godless grave robber. I still value life, though I would hardly expect a master of death to understand that. And what a deathmaster you are! Where are your slaves, dark one? I don't see any bodies for you to defile."
By this time, Iconnus's sword was out, too, and both men had pure hatred etched on their otherwise handsome faces.
"I have a religion, Holy Man, though I don't feel particularly inclined to share the details with you. I keep no slaves, but I am a necromancer, and I have rightfully earned the name." Sort of, at least. What the Hell, I can summon; I'm a necromancer! Az'Ral thought bitterly. He continued.
"I summon when summoning is needed, just as you fight when fighting is needed. And it would appear that both are needed now. I've had enough of you and your insults, and I'm fairly certain my golem will agree with me!"
He rubbed his hands together, as if warming them by a fire, and whispered an arcane chant no one else caught. Closed his eyes, and focused, while everyone else watched, tense and breathless. The air shimmered, and burst into flame. The summoner's fire golem took shape. "I hope you like it hot, paladin."
"Eye for an eye, necromancer." Said Iconnus as he activated one of his most powerful auras.
"Ha, you think so?" asked Az'Ral. He waved his hand almost lazily, and what seemed to be reddish flames danced over Iconnus's head. "Have a curse, one of my favorites. Necromancers like to call it 'The Iron Maiden'. Enjoy."
The fire golem began to walk forward, and none of the other members of the quickly unraveling party had any time to react. Iconnus and Az'Ral would probably have killed each other except for one thing: a thrown potion bottle shattering at Spirit Wing's feet, poisoning her.
The Huntress and her band had decided to attack.
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She had wanted to spring into action, to jump over the rocks and join the battle between the humans and cat-creatures. But she did not. "Not yet," she told herself. "But soon. It's all about patience, Shadera. Remember that. You have come too far to fail now because of impatience. Wait."
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With hisses and feral screams, the band of saber cats launched themselves at the confused party. Firiel was the first to react. "Az'Ral! Iconnus! This is not the time to fight each other! Everyone keep the away from me, I need concentration!"
Fully trusting that this would be enough to snap her friends back into reality, she closed her eyes and began to concentrate on her most powerful spell of freezing. First her arms, then the rest of her body began to glow a dazzling, icy blue. She raised her arms and began her chant.
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Rage needed no more prompting. He had just had enough of all this. One of his oldest friends had been ready to fight to the death with his newest. And the only reason that the two hadn't killed each other was that they now had a more serious threat to deal with. The two duelists had been in a direct line with the cats' charge, and neither was doing well in the fight. They were all being surrounded. Firiel was vulnerable until she finished her spell, and Darkangel was trying to help Spirit Wing, who had taken a few more poison potions as the saber cats charged in. He felt the rage, his namesake, build, and he didn't try to suppress it. Iconnus and Az'Ral needed his help. Firiel needed his help. He had failed in keeping peace and order in the party. And now this. Enough was enough.
These cats were going to die.
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It had all happened so fast. Az'Ral had let down his guard and let his anger and pride overrule common survival sense. He had been a fool. And he knew it.
The saber cats were on them. He and Iconnus had been the first to be attacked, and it had happened almost too fast to react to. But the necromancer had been ready to do battle, and so had his fire golem. It wasted no time shielding its master, and dealing out flaming punishment of its own. Whips cracked, potions exploded, and javelins flew. Az'Ral's dagger literally dripped with venom.
He slashed at one cat, catching her in the arm. The wound itself was not enough to finish her, but he trusted to his poisons. She brought her whip up for another lash, but never brought it down. Her whole body twitched, and foam bubbled out from between her teeth before she collapsed to the ground. It took less than a second, but that was enough for Az'Ral to whirl around just in time to see a second saber cat throw her first barbed javelin, and begin readying another. His eyes widened, and he did the first thing he could think of. A quick twitch of his fingers, and the sand exploded beneath him. Bits and pieces of bone flew up just in time to catch the force of the javelin's impact. The hastily summoned shield of bone crumbled back to the sand.
Az'Ral rushed the saber cat, noticing with a grim kind of satisfaction that his fire golem had just exploded in a firestorm of ash and flame, incinerating the three cats it was fighting. "Of course, that means I'll have to watch my back now." He muttered.
He reached the spear cat as she readied another javelin. He was too close to her for the cat to be able to throw it, so she did the next best thing, and jabbed it straight at his chest. He barely managed to dodge. Damn, these cats are fast, he thought bitterly. The cat's wild jabs had missed their mark, but still caught him on the arm, tearing through the thin mesh armor he wore there. Ouch. Dammit, that's enough!
The necromancer kicked at her, his hard metal boot connecting solidly with her stomach. She doubled over, and he brought his dagger down in a two handed slash. He hadn't needed the poison on his dagger. And so, with a moment to recover, he looked quickly at is arm. Not too bad, he thought, touching it gingerly. Not worth a potion, in any case. He looked around, for more cats to fight.
And saw Iconnus.
The paladin's aura had been working quite well for him; three cats lay dead around him. But the aura, powerful as it was, had no effect on the javelins thrown at him, and the close combat wounds were taking their toll. The slingers were ready to throw the last of their weapons and charge in to finish off the doomed paladin. Az'Ral had time for one thought.
I know I'm going to regret this.
He reached Iconnus just as the spear cats threw their barbed javelins. A huge wall of bone erupted from the sand, just as his smaller shield had done before. Once again, bone blocked javelin, and the two had a moment. The necromancer turned quickly to the fallen paladin, and offered him a hand. "Get up!" he urged.
Iconnus's look of suspicion quickly faded as he noticed what was left of the bone wall. And the next wave of javelins flying at it. "It's crumbling!" he shouted.
The first spear hit it. The wall crumbled to dusty fragments, leaving the two without a shield. "Hurry! Get to your feet!" Az'Ral grabbed Iconnus's arm and started to pull him up. Barbed spears sank into the sand, inches from the two men. "Listen, just trust me 'til we get out of this. I'll be happy to fight you afterwards but-"
A javelin found its mark.
Az'Ral sank to both knees, too shocked to say anything else. Iconnus shared the same feelings.
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She looked upon the battle, her excitement growing. It was time. The sorceress had unleashed her spell; several frozen orbs; across the battlefield, freezing and melting six of the saber cats. Five others had been hit, weakened and slowed, and were waiting their turn at the berserk barbarian's swords. The amazon had recovered from her initial shock with her Valkyrie, and was hurling throwing spears charged with electricity into the saber cat pack. Together, the two had taken down seven of the felines. But the party was confused, unorganized, and chaotic. Nearly half of the saber cat band remained, and it was almost as well organized as it had started out. The leader remained as well, standing far enough away from the battle to be in sight, yet safe from harm.
"Or so she thinks," muttered the quick moving fighter. Battle excitement sparkled in her intense green eyes. "Alright, Shadera…now!"
She launched herself from her hiding place, straight at the Huntress, almost too fast for the eye to follow.
"Iiiiiiiii-yaah!"
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At first he thought he had been hit by a rock, as all he had felt was a sharp jolt. Then…the pain. Burning pain. Excruciating pain. Blinding pain.
Az'Ral looked down in surprise, then looked back at Iconnus. The paladin's expression mirrored his own.
The force of the throw had sent the javelin through the thin metal of Az'Ral's armor. The bone overlays were meant to stop slashes and crushing blows, not puncture wounds, so they were useless in protecting him. The barbed javelin tore through muscle, and the necromancer's right lung, lodging at last between the bones of his ribcage. The very tip of the weapon had come through the metal and bone of the armor covering his chest. The pain was amazing. It blocked all other sensation. But he could still hear Iconnus's now worried voice: "Say something! Damn you, necromancer, don't die on me yet! I know you can hear me, say something!"
Az'Ral gasped as the air left his impaled lung and coughed. Tasted blood. He blinked, groaned.
"Uh…ouch?" he choked out.
He was only dimly aware of the rest of the fight. Of Firiel's frozen orbs, Rage's berserk whirlwind, and Darkangel's lightning furies. Iconnus was holding him upright on his knees. The paladin's hands glowed with a soft blue light, but the dazed necromancer barely noticed the attempt to heal him. His pain-wracked mind almost registered Shadera's flight to join the battle.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't mean-"
"Dammit, necromancer!"
The quiet darkness of unconsciousness rushed in, ending the pain for the time being.
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The Huntress turned just in time to catch Shadera's high-heeled black boot in her face. She reeled backwards, stunned. "Wha-?"
"Want some more, housecat?" Shadera taunted, revealing herself to the cat for the first time.
"What? You are…human!" spat the Huntress with wide eyes.
Shadera's smile was pure venom. She held up her hands, showing of the metal blades strapped to her wrists. They began to pulse with light, first icy blue, then crackling white and fiery orange. The Huntress readied her whip and an oil potion. They attacked at the same instant.
Shadera raked her blade talons across the Huntress's body, drawing deep gashes. Wisps of energy began to collect about her, humming as if begging to be released. The Huntress's thrown oil potion burst at Shadera's feet, and her whip lashed across her chest and stomach. The two backed away, both bloody and breathing hard after the furious attacks each had given and received.
The dark woman's attack seemed to come in slow motion to the doomed huntress. The orbs of energy gathered together, channeling into the metal blades of her claw weapons. At the moment of contact on the cat woman's badly rent armor, the charged energy released, bursting into flames, shards of ice and an electrical nova. The lifeless body of the huntress was literally thrown backwards, and fell to the ground.
The battle froze. Saber cats stared in shock, and Rage lopped off a few more heads. Darkangel impaled another startled cat, while her Valkyrie did the same.
The rest of the cats fled, with more hissing than had accompanied their first attack.
"Death becomes you, housecat," Said the Assassin, wickedly. She then noticed the fallen necromancer, and Iconnus's desperate attempts to heal him. "Dammit!"
She rushed over to help as best she could.
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Hours passed, and darkness fell.
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After hasty introductions, they managed to get Az'Ral's chest armor off. Since the javelin had a barbed tip, it wasn't possible to simply pull it out. The best they could do was to break off the back half, and push it through, while hoping that the poor necromancer remained unconscious. Then there was the battle to stop the blood flow before he bled to death. Iconnus's healing aura, as well as many bolts of warm blue light, accomplished this, but left the paladin drained.
Shadera's sentry traps were keeping the scavengers from reaching the camp, but they needed to get off the battlefield, before too many of the flesh-eating birds showed up. What they really needed was Az'Ral to wake up, so he could drink a potion, as they had no other way to heal him. Sleeping on the hot desert sand was not going to facilitate any sort of natural healing process. The group needed to get back to Lut Gholien, to regroup.
But all they could do was wait.