Disclaimer : I own Zieth and my opinion. Everything else belongs to their respective creators, owners, gods, designers, programmers, so on and so forth, whoever they may be. There's far too many to list.

I make absolutely no apology for what I'm about to do. However, note:

1 – this is not a story for children. It has this rating because I plan to use a little gore later on. Kids – leave.

2 – too many of my friends are Rowlingites. So, my darlinks, remember my philosophy on this kind of thing: be offended only if you want to be. The choice you make there has absolutely nothing to do with me, so don't come to me saying I've horribly offended you with my opinion, because this is not aimed at your opinion. Right? Everyone else who can't handle the fact I have my own opinion can get stuffed and go to hell twice. You have yours, I have mine. (NOTE : PMS is bad for your health. (Yours, as in you reading.) Grumpy and in pain leads to no end of anger and sparks of hatred. The object of my current hatred and thus the victim of this fic was in the wrong place at the wrong time, doing the wrong thing. ... Although, I might have done it anyway. Who can tell?)

Evil is Just a Point of View

1 - Built for the Kill

Zieth tightened her grip on the bars of her claws, a moment before slicing the triple-pronged weapon into the stuffed dummy, twisting her wrist slightly as she tore effortlessly through the tough material.

She was but one member of the secret order of the Viz-Jaq'taar, the Order of Mage-Slayers, the Witch-Hunters, the Assassins. Spawned from the long dead Vizjerei mage-clan and dedicated to a life spent destroying the corruption of magic, the Viz-Jaq'taar were known only as rumour, whispers in the night, faint noises in the woods just beyond vision. Shadows on the minds of magic-users everywhere – the widespread fear of their retribution had kept many a magical being away from the temptations of corruption.

As rumour had it, the Viz-Jaq'taar could not be stopped. Once their target was determined, it was only a matter of time, the power of their victim of no consequence. Zieth knew this... she had destroyed the Prime Evils of Horad; Mephisto, Lord of Hatred; Diablo, Lord of Terror; Baal, Lord of Destruction. But she was not alone in her prized kills, for many of her fellow Viz-Jaq'taar had deaths of similar stature against their names.

The Assassins were impeccably trained, maintaining the purest, most focused minds to keep their own order from a downfall into corruption. Their fearsome power was drawn from within, and a direct use of magic was avoided and forbidden. Instead, the Viz-Jaq'taar used items enchanted to mimic the elemental powers, namely their trademark wrist claws and katars. The natural abilities of the body were held in focus alongside their claw training – masters of the martial arts and the powers of the mind.

Quite simply, built for the kill.

Zieth turned to look at the now headless dummy, at the clean tear her claws had left behind, though the material now oozed and hissed with the traces of acid that laced her weapon. Of course, a true opponent would fight back if given the chance, but as a rule, an Assassin could never have enough training.

"If you are done..." Zieth turned her head towards the ramp of the combat pit, seeing only a silhouette at its peak. But the voice she recognised. Natalya had helped her with valuable information back in Kurast, when she had finally caught up with the Prime Evils and had since been working on information sifting for the Viz-Jaq'taar's Planar Travellers, Assassins who used elemental portals to travel the planes, to distant worlds, seeking out magical corruption. Worlds who had not held the Viz-Jaq'taar's attention as intensely as Horad were often rife with it, and more often than not, whole legions of Assassins were sent to silently remove the taint, vanishing back into the planes, untraceable, before anyone could find them.

Even as Zieth mounted the ramp, Natalya was talking. "The Planars have returned. Our campaign against Toril will have to be paused. We have found a more pressing matter."

"More pressing than the Underdark of Toril?" Zieth asked, surprised. Since when was something more pressing than a Arch-Duke of Hell attempting to take over the world? Natalya nodded and began leading her down the hallways of the Order's hidden home.

"A world living in two halves. One half, rife with magic while the other knows nothing of it. And it seems war has come to those with magic." Natalya looked intently at Zieth. "I tell you because we want you there. We need all the Viz-Jaq'taar we can spare. This magical world is immense. Already the Planars are pinpointing the pockets of magical society, tracking down wayward individuals. Our rejuvenation wells are being put into full production, so that we may all survive this huge assault. Our adversaries are well trained in their art."

"They are magic, just like every other we have taken."

"Exactly. We have the power of the elementals."

"And this war... are we aiding one side? Aiding neither?"

"They are endangering their entire world, endangering those who are ignorant of their existence and this war," Natalya spat the word. "They have already formed their factions, good and evil."

"Evil is just a point of view," Zieth reminded her.

"Yes. Our point of view says that the endangerment of their world is evil." The two Viz-Jaq'taar women stopped and looked at each other.

"What is this world?" Zieth asked. Not that it was important. In fact, some Assassins never wanted to know where they were going if they could help it. They felt it helped distance them. Zieth needed no such aid in removing herself from the killing.

"It is called Earth."

Okay. Who knows whether or not the Viz-Jaq'taar would actually do all this? Who cares? I love the Diablo Assassins and I am using them to do something I want to do. If anyone knows the name of the world in which Diablo was set, please let me know. I didn't and couldn't find it, so just used Horad (yes, from the Horadrim, bless (or damn) them.)