Disclaimer: I have not yet wrested ownership of Diablo from Blizzard. I must try charm next.
Episode 4: To Hell in a Handbasket
"Bloody hell, that hurts!" snarled Morrighan, wiping the undigested gobbets of carrion from her usually spotless armor.
"That was a Corpse-Spitter, it's supposed to hurt," the assassin Ravenwing observed. "This is, after all, Hell. Pain and damnation. And stuff."
Unfortunate, but true. The Duo of Doom had at last arrived at the destination so often suggested to them by much of their acquaintance.
"I hate this place," said Morrighan bitterly. "It's depressing."
Ravenwing rolled her eyes. "Hello? Hell—remember?"
"Well, I could design a better Hell than this! The monsters I can deal with, but the Pandemonium Fortress resembles nothing so much as Union Station in Chicago with no benches, books, or bars."
"Chicago? Oh yes, that nifty parallel universe with the guns you told me about." Ravenwing wiped off a bit of minion clinging to her blade talons. "There's a nice cozy fireplace up at the Fortress though."
"Just what Hell needs," Morrighan sneered, "more fire."
Ravenwing was bored. "Well, come on, then. Let's go kill the nasties and move on!" She turned down the steps to the River of Flame.
"Did I ever tell you how much I hate hot weather?"
"Morrighan, stop complaining! It's undignified!"
"Well, it's hard to be dignified when I'm losing the entire water-weight of my body in sweat!" She raised her staff and blew out some random ice bolts, just to cool off.
At that moment, large hulking green giants, resembling nothing so much as nauseated weight lifters, approached, clubs raised aggressively.
A flurry of slashing blows, shards of ice, and inhuman grunts ensued. The jolly green corpses sprawled about, dropping treasure.
"YES!" screamed Morrighan, all composure to the winds. "A FLAWLESS AMETHYST! I now have all the gems for my Prismatic Amulet! Go me!" She fled into a portal, trailing a dazed assassin in her wake.
"Maximum fire resistance, maximum fire resistance! Oh frabjuous day!"
"Caloo, callay," muttered Ravenwing. "Can we get on with it now?"
"Right away. Lord de Seis must die!"
"Not until I figure out how he steals the potions off us!"
Morrighan pondered the problem. She beckoned Ravenwing over and dropped her voice to a whisper. "We'll send in the lackeys first. Keep your eye on His Thieving Lordship."
Diane and Fiona, dutiful if taciturn young Rogue archers, stood silent by the Pandemonium hearth, all unknowing the unpleasant fate being arranged for them.
The Duo of Doom, with the sub-duo of doomed, swung into action.
Death wails sounded, and Ravenwing yelled, "Eureka! I see how he does it!"
"All right then. Time to die, Lord de Seis!" bellowed Morrighan, slamming the vile creature with an orb of ice with every shout. "Do you have any idea-- how sick --I am --of you?"
The Lord and his minions lay melting forthwith. An unnerving rumble shook the floor.
"Quick!" shouted Ravenwing, opening a portal, "Let's go back and get the Dumbettes—I mean the Dim Sum of Two—I mean our loyal henchwomen!"
"One, two! And through and through! Our vorpal blades will snicker-snack!" paraphrased Morrighan, overcome by the moment.
"You really are the SuperHero of Useless Information."
"Philistine!"
A/N—Thanks again for the reviews. Note to Alex Ultra: Ravenwing and Morrighan believe themselves to be in a real, corporeal world. Whether they or we or anyone actually is, has always been open to question.
