Hello again! Here… little longer chapter.
Aditu: well, no, it's not one of those "one-true-love" stories. Far from it, but since you haven't played D1, I'll let you hang on the suspense ;-)
BloodHeron: Arkaine's Valour is a ring mail you get in one of the quests in the catacombs. In many games it's the first armour you meet that will change the character's appearance – in D1, there were 3 looks for each class, and so Burnt Head's line of "look formidable in that" was kind of a joke for that. What's more interesting of this armour however, is what you gather from people in town. Cain the storyteller of Tristram (later to be discovered as the last of the Horadrim…) tells you of the story of Arkaine, the mortal who wore this armour. Legend has it that he was the first mortal to battle demons and chased them back to the gates of Hell. Gillian, the sweet barmaid, will tell you how she likes this story of Arkaine and his armour Valour. And that's about all you hear of the armour, at least what I can put out of memory now (the witch Adria must have had something interesting and wise to say, but I can't remember), but it's powerful enough for that level of the labyrinth.
You know, it's really funny to be writing this as though everyone already knows the end… that really is my attitude when I write it… but I realize that not that many people coming here actually played D1. Lol, maybe I'll try to incorporate some sense of suspense as I go then.
(Another behind the scene for later in this chapter: the Anvil of Fury is a quest given to you by the smith, Griswold (remember the really, really tough guy in red from D2's Tristram? Well, that's what the corruption will turn him into). Cain, the storyteller (and the liar… he really is despicable enough in D1, and so I couldn't quite resist blaming him a bit in Archangels learn) will tell you that it is the Anvil of the smiths of Hell, telling you quite a tale of how it was made with the skulls of the most powerful magi of the Underworld and so on. Gillian again remembers fondly Cain's stories and tells you that the name comes from the fact that the ground shakes in anger when the Anvil of Fury is used. I always wondered if the Hellforge of D2 was actually the same Anvil of Fury? It would have made a nice closure by the game developers if they had hinted towards that, since the anvil was clearly won back by the forces of evil, judging by the state Tristram is in when Hero reaches it in D2.)
Enough babble for now. On with the chapter.
Chapter V. The Sin War
Lower, they found another book with the same alien fabric as the one entitled the Dark Exile. This one was called the Sin War.
"Many demons travelled to the mortal realm in search of the three brothers. These demons were followed to the mortal plane by angels who hunted them throughout the vast cities of the East. The angels allied themselves with a secretive order of mortal magi, named the Horadrim, who quickly became adept at hunting demons. They also made many dark enemies in the underworlds," Liria read.
"This is frustrating, information coming in droplets," Shurvi stated, looking bored rather than frustrated.
"And I've never studied history. I have no idea if "Horadrim" is a name that should ring a bell, or if the vast cities of the East remember what happened to them during the freedom of the famous and nameless "three brothers". What do they look like and what do they do anyway?"
Shurvi shrugged. "I don't know. I wonder why we're finding this book here. Do you think the people of the Monastery kept many books in these parts?"
"That doesn't seem likely. Moreover, this doesn't look like an ordinary book; maybe it is of the demons, not of the Monastery."
Both paused, puzzled at this new idea and its implications.
"Then why would they keep a book talking about ages-old history of the Prime Evils?", Shurvi asked slowly.
"Maybe they are trying to… to find them? I don't know what's a Prime Evil, are they even alive still?"
They stayed in silence a little more, thinking hard on the matter, before they finally turned, and headed downstairs, having nothing else to do about the matter.
The next place was again different; this time it was not human-carved catacombs, but rather a natural cave, with wells of red fire in some places. The smell of sulphur was overwhelming at first, and it stung their eyes.
"It's hot down here," Liria noted.
They had time to say nothing else, because battle was upon them.
ooooo
Cain had nothing to say about that part of the book either, which was even more odd. Both warriors shrugged it off and went to Griswold to trade items, and look what he had for sale. He told them of the Anvil of Fury, and told them to bring it to him if they ever found it. They agreed to his request, and went to the inn to rest.
As was their habit, they went upstairs to their rooms to wash and change, then they gave their clothes to Gilian, and their armour to a stable boy. Gilian washed the clothes, and the stable boy cleaned the armours. They took care of their weapons themselves, or occasionally brought them to Griswold to repair them. After their bath, they headed downstairs and relaxed a while, after which they took dinner. Then, they either trained or went to sleep.
Shurvi, as usual, was the first one in the tavern. He smiled as she neared their usual table, thinking how much she was part of his life right now, how he was in a strange routine with her, as though fighting demons was just the usual occupation for young people.
"Hey Red head," he saluted her.
"Hey Burnt head," she answered, sitting in front of him. "There is supposed to be a bard playing tonight. He says he comes from the Far East."
"You'd like to watch the show?", Shurvi asked.
"Well, maybe, if he's any good."
Shurvi nodded, and they agreed to wait for the show to begin before asking for their food. They chatted quietly until the bard arrived and set the scene. He was tall, and his skin was deeply tanned. He also wore strange clothes, like they were too big for him, and strapped at the wrists and ankles. He started to sing the tales of his country, strange tales of the East, of the beauty of the stars at night over the sand, of their light-footed horses, of the hypnotizing dance of the women, of the tombs of great men hidden under the sand.
Everyone listened intently at him; he was indeed talented, and his music was one no one had ever heard before. After his tales were done, he started to improvise for pays from the public, and did so with cunning as Ogden paid him to praise his wife.
Liria saw Shurvi coming, but there was nothing she thought of doing that would stop him without being even more embarrassing to her. She saw the warrior stand, and slowly walk towards the bard. Then, he tossed a few gold pieces to the man.
"Here, bard! What say you of my travelling companion, Tristram's favourite red head?"
The bard smiled ruefully, seeing the intent of Shurvi, and Liria's embarrassment at her companion's outing. The bard was quick to understand they were not together, just travelling so.
He started pinching a few of the cords of his strange instrument, producing a slightly discordant melody, much less gracious than the one he had used for Ogden's wife. Then he started to say how beautiful and gracious she was, and even talked of her bowskill – must have seen her coming in the tavern with her weapons and armour. Then, although no one but Shurvi and Liria understood, he said that Arkaine would have been proud to see his armour worn so, and he concluded slyly that the least of her heroic actions was surely not to put up with her travelling companion everyday.
The tavern roared with laughter as the joke was suddenly turned back to Shurvi, although Shurvi and Liria were still a little stunned at the idea of a bard that could guess she was wearing Arkaine's Valour. They had a chance to speak to him afterwards, and he told them that he had studied history for a long time in the Far East, and that what was almost-forgotten history here was known as yesterday in the East, and that what was completely forgotten here, was still remembered and written in tombs' walls in the desert. He said it is in this way that he knew of Arkaine's Valour look, and that is how he had known it was what she was wearing.
"Oh, I think of something," Liria suddenly said, growing greatly excited. "If you know of past history so well, maybe you can tell us something about a book we found in the cathedral."
She then recited the texts of the Dark Exile and of the Sin War. He listened intently, and finally said:
"I know little besides what you already read. This history is even older than Arkaine. This is before the Sin War turned upon the humans, it is at the very beginning, when it was angels themselves that chased the demons. The little I can tell you is the name of the Seven great evils, the Four Lesser and the Three Prime. There are Andarielle, Maiden of Anguish, Duriel, Lord of Pain, Belial, Lord of Lies, and Azmodan, Lord of Sin, the Four Lesser Evils. There are Mephisto, Lord of Hatred, Baal, Lord of Destruction, and Diablo, Lord of Terror, also the king of Hell, the Three Prime Evils. I know of the Three Prime Evils being captured in a way or another, and disappearing from the face of Sanctuary. My knowledge stops there."
"You do not know of the Horadrim?", Liria insisted.
"Not much. They have tombs somewhere in the desert, it is said, lost monuments to their greatness, but it is long ruined and lost. I know not who they were besides that they were, in the legend, the builders of these tombs, that we do not even know if they ever existed."
Liria nodded. "Thank you for sharing your knowledge."
"Thanks to you to recite me yet another bit of history. I will remember it, and retell it, thinking of the charming young woman wearing Arkaine's Valour that told it to me."
The bard smiled, and left their table. They looked at each other, sharing silently their mutual disappointment. So promising, but they had not learned much, after all.