Azmodan paced impatiently in the entrance to the cavern, his tail dragging loudly in the dust of the cave floor. The demon greatly resembled his rival, Diablo, in appearance, his body large and muscular, and adorned with all manner of spikes and horns. The Lesser Evil was slightly smaller than the Lord of Terror, and his face was narrower and more serpent-like. His thick hide was darker and more of an earthen color than Diablo's bright red skin. Azmodan had often been confused with the greater demon, something he had learned to exploit, but no one could confuse them side by side.
One more reason, he decided, to keep his historic rival as far away from him as possible when this business was done.
"He's late," Belial hissed from the cavern's interior. The other Lesser Evil preferred the darker shadows to the partial illumination of the mouth of the cave, his form obscured by the darkness. A pair of green eyes glowed in from the blackness of the chamber, filled with ire and hate. He did not pace like his brother, but he, too was growing impatient.
"Diablo should have been here long ago," Azmodan growled in agreement. As much as the Prime Evil bothered him, his absence, under the circumstances, was far more frightening.
Three days had passed since Diablo and his brother, Baal had returned to the kingdom they had fled so long ago, the kingdom Belial and Azmodan had forcibly taken from them. At first, the two Lesser Evils had prepared to contest the brothers' return, but they had learned quickly that a pair such as they could not single-handedly counter the onslaught of both Terror and Destruction, especially not when their adversaries appeared to have not only the support of the other two Lesser Evils, Andariel and Duriel, but that of the Lord of Hatred, Mephisto, as well.
Outnumbered and overpowered, unused to such resistance, the kings of Hell had agreed to suspend their reign unconditionally and submit to the Prime Evils' wills. They had expected imprisonment, perhaps torture, but they had been rewarded strangely for their surrender. They had been entrusted with guard duty.
Guarding what, they didn't know. Diablo had shown them this spot and this cave, and told them he would return with more instructions in a day's time. He was late.
A rocky path wound past the cave, from nowhere to nowhere, its purpose forgotten in the long history of Hell. Were they protecting the road itself? Was someone or something coming that would need protecting? Was something coming that needed killing, perhaps? Or did the mysterious task involve the cave itself? The demons had explored the cave and found it to be quite short, a dead end that did not even stretch long enough to silence the stinging, searing winds of the Plains of Despair outside.
What, then? Diablo was supposed to have told them, but where was he? Why had he not come? Many were the questions and few the answers, and the brothers were getting restless.
"Hello," said a voice. Azmodan turned around to find himself looking down into the face of a stooped, skeletal figure in a sand-colored robe. Folds of mummy cloth hung from various parts of his person, like pieces if snakeskin in the midst of being shed. The visage of Baal, Lord of Destruction, stared back at the Lesser Evil calmly.
"Which way did he come from?" Azmodan asked.
"Nowhere," Belial responded immediately. "He just appeared." The green eyes in the shadows flared angrily.
"I believe you two were given a task. It's time for you to start doing it."
"We were expecting Diablo." Belial hissed from the shadows.
"Diablo is dead," Baal said quickly. Azmodan's eyes shifted to meet Belial's. Now there was an interesting piece of information. It was common knowledge that a band of mortal heroes had infiltrated Hell on the heels of the Prime Evils, but had they really pushed far enough to silence the Lord of Terror, himself?
"Now listen closely," Baal continued. "I am leaving this realm, probably for good. Do as I ask, and you can have it."
Azmodan whistled. "How may we serve?"
"A hero is coming towards this place, a mortal. He is not one of those responsible for Diablo's death, but he is of their party. I do not intend to linger long enough for him to find me."
"You are afraid of this… human?" Belial hissed from the shadows. Baal began to walk towards him.
"To a point. I believe he has the power to impede my plans, and that Heaven will bid him pursue me because of my allegiance to my fallen brothers."
Brothers. Plural. Was Mephisto dead, too, then? No wonder Baal was scared. This is getting more interesting all the time, Azmodan thought.
"One of you is coming with me, to aid me in my passage. The other will stay here and ensure that I am not followed by this… hero."
"One of us is to hold this human back all by himself?"
"He is not the one who slew Diablo, Azmodan, he is simply their companion. So far as I know, he is not even a formidable warrior. He's a paladin, not a mercenary – he knows more about preaching than fighting."
"I will stay," Belial whispered. "This human does not frighten me."
"Good." Baal was visibly relieved, and began walking again, past Belial's glowing eyes into the rear of the cavern. Perhaps he thought we were smart enough to avoid the whelp, Azmodan thought. Well, one of us is. I'm not going near that paladin, not if he's got the Lord of Destruction here running for cover. "You won't be alone, Belial. I am stationing Izual here as well."
"The fallen angel?"
"Yes. He's quite an effective deterrent, wouldn't you say?"
"Can I trust him?"
"Can I trust you, Belial? Shut up and do as you're told, and this kingdom is yours. Are you coming, Azmodan?" Baal called from the darkness. He had vanished, seemingly into the walls of cave.
"Not that way," the Lesser Evil chuckled. "It's a dead end. You're heading straight into a blank wall."
"You need to look more closely at things, especially when you've been told to guard them." There was a rumbling sound, as though an entire section of wall had been knocked down. Azmodan peered into the darkness, but he still saw nothing but his brother's glowing eyes. Belial blinked at him. "Come on, we haven't much time."
Sighing, Azmodan lumbered after the Prime Evil, his tail swishing in the dust of the cavern floor. Maybe it would be safer to stay and face the paladin, he thought. I'd rather square with a mortal than Baal any day.
One more reason, he decided, to keep his historic rival as far away from him as possible when this business was done.
"He's late," Belial hissed from the cavern's interior. The other Lesser Evil preferred the darker shadows to the partial illumination of the mouth of the cave, his form obscured by the darkness. A pair of green eyes glowed in from the blackness of the chamber, filled with ire and hate. He did not pace like his brother, but he, too was growing impatient.
"Diablo should have been here long ago," Azmodan growled in agreement. As much as the Prime Evil bothered him, his absence, under the circumstances, was far more frightening.
Three days had passed since Diablo and his brother, Baal had returned to the kingdom they had fled so long ago, the kingdom Belial and Azmodan had forcibly taken from them. At first, the two Lesser Evils had prepared to contest the brothers' return, but they had learned quickly that a pair such as they could not single-handedly counter the onslaught of both Terror and Destruction, especially not when their adversaries appeared to have not only the support of the other two Lesser Evils, Andariel and Duriel, but that of the Lord of Hatred, Mephisto, as well.
Outnumbered and overpowered, unused to such resistance, the kings of Hell had agreed to suspend their reign unconditionally and submit to the Prime Evils' wills. They had expected imprisonment, perhaps torture, but they had been rewarded strangely for their surrender. They had been entrusted with guard duty.
Guarding what, they didn't know. Diablo had shown them this spot and this cave, and told them he would return with more instructions in a day's time. He was late.
A rocky path wound past the cave, from nowhere to nowhere, its purpose forgotten in the long history of Hell. Were they protecting the road itself? Was someone or something coming that would need protecting? Was something coming that needed killing, perhaps? Or did the mysterious task involve the cave itself? The demons had explored the cave and found it to be quite short, a dead end that did not even stretch long enough to silence the stinging, searing winds of the Plains of Despair outside.
What, then? Diablo was supposed to have told them, but where was he? Why had he not come? Many were the questions and few the answers, and the brothers were getting restless.
"Hello," said a voice. Azmodan turned around to find himself looking down into the face of a stooped, skeletal figure in a sand-colored robe. Folds of mummy cloth hung from various parts of his person, like pieces if snakeskin in the midst of being shed. The visage of Baal, Lord of Destruction, stared back at the Lesser Evil calmly.
"Which way did he come from?" Azmodan asked.
"Nowhere," Belial responded immediately. "He just appeared." The green eyes in the shadows flared angrily.
"I believe you two were given a task. It's time for you to start doing it."
"We were expecting Diablo." Belial hissed from the shadows.
"Diablo is dead," Baal said quickly. Azmodan's eyes shifted to meet Belial's. Now there was an interesting piece of information. It was common knowledge that a band of mortal heroes had infiltrated Hell on the heels of the Prime Evils, but had they really pushed far enough to silence the Lord of Terror, himself?
"Now listen closely," Baal continued. "I am leaving this realm, probably for good. Do as I ask, and you can have it."
Azmodan whistled. "How may we serve?"
"A hero is coming towards this place, a mortal. He is not one of those responsible for Diablo's death, but he is of their party. I do not intend to linger long enough for him to find me."
"You are afraid of this… human?" Belial hissed from the shadows. Baal began to walk towards him.
"To a point. I believe he has the power to impede my plans, and that Heaven will bid him pursue me because of my allegiance to my fallen brothers."
Brothers. Plural. Was Mephisto dead, too, then? No wonder Baal was scared. This is getting more interesting all the time, Azmodan thought.
"One of you is coming with me, to aid me in my passage. The other will stay here and ensure that I am not followed by this… hero."
"One of us is to hold this human back all by himself?"
"He is not the one who slew Diablo, Azmodan, he is simply their companion. So far as I know, he is not even a formidable warrior. He's a paladin, not a mercenary – he knows more about preaching than fighting."
"I will stay," Belial whispered. "This human does not frighten me."
"Good." Baal was visibly relieved, and began walking again, past Belial's glowing eyes into the rear of the cavern. Perhaps he thought we were smart enough to avoid the whelp, Azmodan thought. Well, one of us is. I'm not going near that paladin, not if he's got the Lord of Destruction here running for cover. "You won't be alone, Belial. I am stationing Izual here as well."
"The fallen angel?"
"Yes. He's quite an effective deterrent, wouldn't you say?"
"Can I trust him?"
"Can I trust you, Belial? Shut up and do as you're told, and this kingdom is yours. Are you coming, Azmodan?" Baal called from the darkness. He had vanished, seemingly into the walls of cave.
"Not that way," the Lesser Evil chuckled. "It's a dead end. You're heading straight into a blank wall."
"You need to look more closely at things, especially when you've been told to guard them." There was a rumbling sound, as though an entire section of wall had been knocked down. Azmodan peered into the darkness, but he still saw nothing but his brother's glowing eyes. Belial blinked at him. "Come on, we haven't much time."
Sighing, Azmodan lumbered after the Prime Evil, his tail swishing in the dust of the cavern floor. Maybe it would be safer to stay and face the paladin, he thought. I'd rather square with a mortal than Baal any day.