Chapter I: The Labyrinth's Survivor

'Who's this guy?' I asked, thoughtful as I stared at the man. Long ginger hair, a strong face and a thin yet most probably sculpted body beneath the cheap clothes he wore. He looked… something.

The smith barely looked in the direction I was pointing before returning to her swords and armours and I could bet I heard her mutter something not unlike "If only I had my hammer…". Poor Charsi. Since our Sisterhood had to abandon our monastery – and Charsi leave her precious Horadric Malus behind – days had been hard for the kind-hearted smith. For all of us, in fact. The corruption of Moreina, the betrayal of some of our dearest Sisters we now had to fight against, the loss of our home to Andariel, the Maiden of Anguish coming from Hell itself… All of this so soon after our short lived victory at Tristram…

I had been there. I had been part of Blood Raven's group, bravely fighting and killing the demonic spawn I saw out there. I had seen horror and the face of Evil had stared at me as we all had assisted Prince Aidan to slaughter his own brother turned into a monster by the Lord of Terror no less.

'I don't know, Elisa. Just the latest adventurer.'

Charsi shrugged, and grabbed the ersatz of a hammer she now had to use before she forcefully slammed it against a dagger in need of repair. When we had gloriously come back from our painful journey, I had candidly hoped my Sisters would never live that. But here we were, outside of our dearest home, living in tents, losing a battle I could hardly see us win.

Charsi wiped the sweat from her face in an unexpectedly graceful gesture before returning to her task, her duty for our Order in desperate need for her skills.

But without the Horadric Malus… She cannot use her full potential to help us.

I decided to abandon the thought. The time was not for musings about our desperate situation, now was the time to fight and to win back our ancestral home. Only then would I allow myself to take the time to wonder about what ifs.

Focusing back on the much more interesting man, seeing him walk confidently towards our leader Akara, I asked, 'Isn't he a Druid? He reminds me of the last Druid we had. Probably the wild look in his eye.'

Charsi deeply sighed and took the time to properly look at the new adventurer, her eyes narrowing as she mumbled, 'He also reminds me of the last Barbarian we saw.'

'No, he's much too thin to be a Barbarian and he doesn't look like he has the required strength to be one,' I knowingly said.

'Exactly: the last Barbarian died two minutes after stepping out of the camp, I wonder how he even managed to arrive here in the first place.'

I laughed, shaking my head. Far away from us, I saw the Druid – he probably was a Druid, I had decided – respectfully nod at Akara before…

'Uh-oh, he is going to see Kashya!' I gasped, my eyes widening.

'Of course he is going to see Kashya. They all are, Elisa. He will believe he is smarter, or stronger, or more powerful than all the others that came here to receive the exact same duty as he, before going to the Den of Evil and mysteriously disappear, either because he is too wise to blindly go to death and yet too coward to inform us or because he was too arrogant to admit this quest was ahead of his level and hence found a painful death by the hand of whatever monster you can find there.'

'I know, I know, but you have to admit – it's always funny to see her talk to strangers.'

And indeed it was. Even if I could not hear them, I could just see the disdainful look Kashya sent to the Druid and the way her entire body screamed of suspicion and lack of trust.

Behind me, I heard Charsi sigh.

'It's not funny, Elisa. She is just hurt by everything that's been going on, with Blood Raven and all. She wants to protect us from the danger that's surrounding our Sisterhood, and you don't know who to trust these days.'

My heart clenched at the reminder of Blood Raven. I had admired her… we all had. She was so magnificent, gloriously coming back from Tristram leading our victorious group – group I had been a part of – with a wide grin illuminated by her fierce ginger hair, having defeated the incarnation of Evil in the Labyrinth beneath town, with knowledge and powerful objects none of our Sisters had ever heard of, but now… Now she was Andariel's bloodhound, ready to slaughter anyone who would dare approach the Burial Ground from where she was turning against us more and more of our Sisters, raising them from the peaceful rest of death to become Evil's servant.

'I know, Charsi…' I whispered, my voice hollow as I shivered, observing the Druid talking to Kashya. 'If only I could fight, if only Kashya would let me join our Sisters who are bravely fighting against the dangers threatening our Order, I would…'

'You would die, Elisa. Like all the others. Kashya knows to send our soldiers sparingly because most of the time they never come back to us. How many of our Sisters' corpses are rotting out there? As for the ones that do come back to us, it is only thanks to Akara that they have a chance of survival at all!'

I sighed, knowing she was right – at least, partly. I had seen too many of our Sisters grimly yet determinedly walk outside the camp and I had seen so very few return, never mind survive their injuries. Most of them were probably rotting out there, or already joining Blood Raven and her Mistress. But… I wouldn't die. Beneath Tristam's Labyrinth, along with Blood Raven and others, I had seen things… horrible things… nightmares that would probably haunt my mind forever… but that had also made me stronger. A warrior. I would not die out there.

Before us, the Druid had worn an understanding yet strong face when answering to Kashya – apparently accepting the harsh position of our soldiers' commander considering his nod – and was starting to head out of the camp. There was something about him… something that told me that he was different. Perhaps it was just my mind though, my desperate psyche imagining a positive outcome of this hell we were all trapped in. But… What if… what if this time…

'Do you think he'll succeed?'

'Who?' Charsi tiredly asked. I felt guilt run through my heart. Here I was, talking to our smith because I was bored as Kashya still refused to let me out of the camp whilst she exhausted herself to death trying to give our Sisters reliable weapons when she herself had only a joke of a hammer compared to the Horadric Malus she so dearly missed.

I shook my head, pushing back the thoughts. Now was not the time.

'The Druid, the new adventurer.'

She shrugged, wiped the sweat from her forehead once again before picking up another blade. Then, firmly holding her hammer, she replied, 'I hope so. If he does, maybe less of our Sisters will die out there and perhaps we'll even stand a chance against Blood Raven and her army raised from the dead.'

But you don't think so, right?

I bit my lip as I observed her. How many days will we go on like this, with fewer and fewer of our Sisters on our side while Blood Raven and Andariel's army could only expand? How many until Charsi, Kashya or Akara fall from exhaustion? How many sunsets will we be able to spend at the bonfire, hearing and telling epic tales to warm our hearts against the horrors laying deep down into the catacombs? How many days will we resist?

I looked around us, painfully observing my Sisters. I guessed these days would not be so long if we let things remain the way they were. If only… If only Kashya could let me go out…!

I knew why she refused. Ironically, it was for the exact same reason I thought I was the one who should go out. I had went to Tristram. I was probably the most powerful Rogue there ever was, aside of Moreina and Kashya of course. Only I stood a chance. But Kashya wouldn't leave herself since we needed her inside the camp while in the same time she would never let me out as well. She feared Andariel's wrath against the survivors of Tristram would lead the Maiden of Anguish to attack me more fiercely than any other champion we could send out there – and our Commander was known to be protective of her Sisters. But how could Kashya expect me to remain here at the camp when all I could think of was how many deaths I could have prevented if I had went?

The Druid was at the camp's entrance now. He was different. I could feel it. And deep inside this nightmarish Cathedral, I had learned to trust my instincts about these things. And my instincts had never failed me. He was different. I knew it, I just… knew it.

'Charsi, did you repair my bow?'

The smith glanced at me, her eyes narrowing. She suspected I had a plan, and she probably assumed this plan involved going against Kashya's orders. And none of us would dare to go against Kashya's orders, because she always had our best interest at heart.

But I needed to try this. This was our last chance before annihilation.

Charsi sighed, probably feeling my determination regarding this plan. She knew she would be unable to stop me. Hell, if she refused to help me I would probably go see Gheed – while the man wished to remain in Charsi's good favors, he would never refuse a deal, especially a good one – and pay for whatever acceptable bow he would be able to give me for a horrifyingly expensive cost.

So instead, Charsi gave me my bow, along with a quiver full of arrows. I thanked her with a nod and a look that expressed everything there was to say about her gesture and in answer she hugged me tightly, whispering, 'Don't die, Sister. I wouldn't bear it.'

I smiled, chuckling, 'That Den of Evil will be child's play for a survivor of Tristram. I'll come back before you know it.'

'I hope you're right, Elisa. I dearly hope you're right.'

I took a step back, looking straight into Charsi's worried gaze. But she needed not to stress herself over it. I knew I was right. And I would prove her so, by vanquishing whatever monster laid deep down into this Den of Evil…

Author's Note:

I hope you liked this first chapter. I'll be starting to write the second right now and I think I'll be able to post it some time next week.