The first thing Galen felt when he regained consciousness was a warm hand upon his cheek. The second was the sound of rain and the scent of wet earth.
His eyes fluttered open to see a feminine head hovering over him. Panic flickered in his mind as he recalled the Countess bending over him, but as his eyes focused, he recognized Dana's golden hair and blue-green eyes; they smiled tenderly at him, though a trace of worry lingered within. Beyond her, the Forgotten Tower's crumbling roof offered haphazard shelter from the downpour as the dark grey skies rumbled overhead. Regaining awareness of his body, he realized he was on his back as the amazon cradled his head in her lap.
- "You're alright," came her voice. He wasn't sure if it was meant to reassure him or herself.
- "Huh," he grunted. "I expected Heaven to be sunnier. At least the angels are pretty."
- "You're not dead yet," she laughed, "despite your misplaced sense of chivalry. Akara's healing potions came in handy after all."
- "What happened? Where are the others?"
- "Everyone's fine. You're the one we've all been worried about."
- "I'm sorry, Dana," he muttered. "That's twice now you've had to save me from my own failings. I should've…" he was interrupted by her hand on his mouth.
- "Shush. It's not your fault. She fooled all of us. I should have seen through her game, but I was…distracted. Just promise me you won't be so gallant with Andariel," she finished with mock gravity.
- "I'm afraid I can't make that promise," he retorted in the same tone. "I intend to personally escort her back to Hell."
- "And yet you remain in the amazon's lap," Aan's voice called out snidely as he stepped into the paladin's view.
- "I'm, uh, still feeling weak," Galen replied melodramatically. "And cold," he added for emphasis.
Dana giggled softly. He'd never heard her giggle.
- "I'll allow it," she decided. "I was once in your care, after all. It's only fair."
His only answer was to stare peacefully up at her and bask in her comforting presence, but soon his expression turned serious.
- "What of the missing rogues? Did you manage to save them as well?"
- "We rescued those we could," Dana replied with a touch of sorrow in her voice. "But…" she hesitated as her eyes drifted up, "we weren't the ones to save you from the Countess' clutches."
Galen followed her gaze and lifted his head to see a stranger leaning against the far wall, arms crossed. He was a pale, grim looking man with closely shaved blond hair through which snaked black ritual markings. He wore a raven feather cloak over a black coat, beneath which there was a flash of lacquered dark leathers. His sunken eyes peeked up, sensing he was being stared at.
The paladin sat up, eyeing the stranger with a note of unease. There was something disquieting about the man, but more than that, there was something familiar about him too. Looking around, he saw his sword, shield and helm were neatly placed on top of each other to his side. Behind Aan, Paige huddled with four other rogues around a small campfire, all bundled up in cloaks, their expressions downcast. Talia was there too, feeding the fire with her magical flame, desperately trying to keep it alive; she offered him a smile, though her lips shivered from the cold.
He rose to his feet and walked over to them, kneeling beside Paige.
- "I take it we were not in time to save everyone," he said softly.
She nodded, her gaze not meeting his.
- "How many?" he asked.
- "We lost two sisters," came the reply. "They had already been drained dry when we made it to the Countess' ritual chamber. We took our vengeance upon the vampiric underlings who guarded it, then burned all the bodies."
- "I'm sorry. If we had arrived earlier…"
She raised a hand to interrupt him.
- "No, you lot have already done more for the Sisterhood than we could have prayed for. We need to be stronger. I need to be stronger."
He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and looked to the others.
- "Are any of you hurt? I can provide healing."
- "They didn't harm us more than they needed to," another rogue replied. "They wanted us unspoiled for their feast. Your friends arrived just in time to save me from that fate."
- "It turns out vampires are very flammable," the young sorceress boasted before turning back to the campfire and poking at it miserably. "Unlike this soggy wood."
- "The local weather not agreeing with you, witch?" came Aan's snickering voice. The barbarian only seemed invigorated by the cold.
- "I'm sorry if my ancestors weren't crazy enough to settle in the frigid backside of Sanctuary," she retorted.
Galen left them to it and walked over to the man in black.
- "I hear I have you to thank for my life," he said, offering his hand. "You have my gratitude, friend."
The pale stranger stared at the offered hand as if it were some exotic venomous creature. He made no move to grasp it.
- "I suppose I should thank you as well," the stranger replied. "That blood mage was practically dead when I got there. You made my work much easier."
- "I'm Galen," the paladin offered, his hand still outstretched.
There was a brief pause before the man in black stood straight and returned the gesture.
- "Cyrus," he said with a brief handshake.
- "Well met, Cyrus. You must be strong indeed for getting the best of the Countess and her pet abomination."
- "That abomination was what killed her and saved you," the stranger rejoined.
- "What do you mean?" Galen asked, confused. "She summoned those things."
- "The first blood golem was hers," Cyrus corrected, "the one you took down. The second one was mine."
- "He is a corpse mage," came Talia's voice, and she spoke the words like a curse.
Realization flared in the paladin's eyes as Cyrus' appearance hit home. His mind was flooded with the memories of his previous encounter with a necromancer, flashes of skeletal monstrosities running amok in Kirkmoor, a mad light dancing in their puppet master's eyes.
His hand almost moved to his side by instinct, even though he was unarmed, but he controlled the impulse. Whatever else he might be, the man in front of him was not hostile.
- "Ah, there it is," Cyrus noted, a faint smirk curling his lips. "I was wondering when the mask of civility would drop. Perhaps you wish to retract your gratitude now that you know that you owe it to a necromancer?"
Stung by the remark, Galen realized his expression betrayed his sudden animosity. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, his gaze was cool and casual.
- "I apologize, Cyrus. I owe you a great debt, nothing can change that. I don't know what brought you to this place, but I am not one to spit on the hand of providence, no matter what shape it takes."
- "What did bring you here?" Dana asked as she came to stand by Galen's side.
- "My business is my own," the necromancer commented cagily. "Suffice it to say that I learned of this Countess who defied the Balance, and decided to put an end to her."
- "The Balance?"
- "Yes, the great cycle of life and death. As a priest of Rathma, it is my duty to destroy any who seek to pervert it."
- "And yet your kind desecrate the dead and raise them into unnatural life," the paladin countered testily. "You claim to defend the natural cycle, but you make a mockery of it."
- "We may twist the line between life and death," Cyrus conceded, "but we do not break it. We only wield it as a weapon to better protect it against those that do, such as this Countess and her demonic patrons."
- "How do you know she was in league with demons?" Galen asked suspiciously.
- "Our brand of arcane magic is a closely guarded secret that we share with no one. The only way for any mortal not of our priesthood to wield it is to learn it from the infernal powers. That is why our order hunts down unsanctioned necromancers; they pose a threat to our very world. Now that the Countess is dead, this land is finally free of the evil that tainted it."
- "I'm afraid she wasn't the source of this corruption," the amazon differed. "The demons in this land obey a much more perilous mistress: Andariel herself has taken over Eastgate and spread her influence far and wide. We were on our way there to put an end to her when we discovered this tower was a hideout for evil creatures. We should make haste to continue our mission; she guards the pass for her mast…" Dana felt the paladin's hand on her arm before she could continue, signaling her to stop. He did not trust the necromancer with the news of Diablo's freedom. The man in question seemed too taken aback to notice.
- "The Maiden of Anguish?" Cyrus balked. "This is dire news indeed. One of the lesser evils is loose upon the land. This could mean that Hell's gaze is once again bent on Sanctuary." His eyes darted back and forth, lost in frantic thought. "My business will have to wait. I will come with you and help you defeat her."
- "Out of the question," Galen cut in. "I'm grateful for your aid, but I cannot allow someone of your…persuasion to endanger our quest."
- "You still question my allegiances?"
- "It is not your heart I question, but your methods."
- "This world belongs to us mortals, and it is rife with the energies of mortality; we would be fools not to make use of them. The enemy has no such compunction."
- "You say you wield the arts of the enemy against him; all I see is a woodsman fighting a forest fire with a torch."
- "I don't approve of the dark arts any more than you do, Galen," the amazon began, "but at the very least he has proven that he is no friend of the demons'. We could use all the allies we can get for the fight ahead."
- "You surprise me, amazon," the necromancer chuckled. "You come to my defense, yet you were ready to skewer me when you first saw me standing over the unconscious form of your darling knight."
- "Had you not dismissed your creature as a gesture of good faith, I might have." Dana replied dangerously. "Luckily, the dead noblewoman's fangs dispelled any doubts about her true identity. I believed you then, and I believe you now when you say you stand for Sanctuary. For the moment, that is enough."
- "Most generous," Cyrus snarked. "But I don't need your permission. I'm going to Eastgate to destroy Andariel with or without you."
- "You'd be walking into certain death," the paladin interjected. "None of us can take on the demon queen alone."
- "Which is why we should stop arguing and band together," the amazon asserted. "We can discuss metaphysics once we've triumphed."
Galen seemed about to contend the point further but a shadow of guilt and shame crossed over his eyes when they met with Dana's. He sighed.
- "You're right. We can't afford to tarry any longer. I've been out of it for most of the day, and we're pressed for time as it is." He turned to the necromancer. "Very well, Cyrus, you're welcome to join our party for the time being."
- "Much obliged," the man in question returned flatly and walked away.
- "Do you feel strong enough to continue our quest?" the amazon inquired, placing a hand on the paladin's arm.
- "I will," he replied as the signature white light of his life aura began to shimmer around him. "What about the rogues? Perhaps we should send them back to camp. They've already suffered enough."
- "They wouldn't have it," she replied. "This is their home; I cannot deny them the chance to fight for it." She turned to where the rogues in question were gathered. "Paige has been very brave," she mused, and Galen could sense pride in her tone. "She'll be a great champion of her people someday." The paladin smiled at the Askari's display of kinship towards one of her long-estranged sisters. Seeing this, she immediately returned to her business-like attitude and began mustering the others. "Time to move, everyone. Gather your things."
The young knight went to retrieve his gear as the others donned theirs. His allies seemed to have acquired some new equipment: Aan picked up a two-handed mace as big as his axe, its long steel head bristling with short blunt spikes meant more for bludgeoning than piercing. Dana put on an ornate gold tinted spangenhelm with cheek guards and a long red horsetail that sprouted from the top.
- "I see you've helped yourself to some trinkets," he noted.
- "The Countess had a lot of treasures amassed over the years," Dana confirmed.
- "Including a great big pile of gold and gems," the barbarian chimed in with a toothy grin, giving his backpack a pat. "We won't be short on funds any time soon".
- "Don't worry, we didn't forget about you," the amazon continued in a conspiratorial tone, and with that she produced a finely crafted leather cuirass from among her belongings. "That brigandine of yours has taken a beating, I thought maybe you'd want to replace it."
He smiled and accepted the gift gratefully.
- "That's very thoughtful of you, Dana," he said while studying the armor before adding "But…I think I know someone who needs this more than I. Talia, come here a moment," he called out.
The sorceress walked over, still shivering in her light eastern robes.
- "What is it?" she asked.
- "I want you to try this on. It'll keep you a bit warmer, and more importantly, a lot safer. I won't have you traipsing into battle with no protection."
- "We Zann-Esu rely on magics and enchantments to protect ourselves," she protested. "We don't wear mundane, cumbersome armor."
- "You do if you're going up against one of the Lesser Evils," he insisted. "Just try it on. For me."
- "Very well," she sighed and began to clumsily put on the cuirass. Galen was amazed she even knew which side was forward. When she was done, she squirmed uncomfortably, evidencing her displeasure.
"It's heavy. And it chafes," she whined.
- "It chafes much less than a sword through the gut, I assure you," he quipped. "You've stopped shivering, at least."
Talia realized she felt warmer than she did a minute ago, and any further protests died on her lips. A begrudging smile peeked at the corner of her pout.
- "I'll keep it on until I find myself in warmer weather," she conceded.
- "I was about to give you some gold from the hoard," the amazon told the paladin, "but since you seem so keen on giving away my gifts, perhaps I'll hold on to it."
- "You're welcome to it," he said but then hesitated, turning to the necromancer who paced behind him. "Unless…our new friend would like his fair share of the spoils?"
- "I have already claimed my prize," Cyrus responded, and he tapped a vial of red liquid on his belt.
- "Is that…" Galen began.
- "The Countess's blood, yes. It holds power, power that allowed her to cheat death for countless years. She pierced the secrets of manipulating lifeforce in ways only the most ancient of my cult's mysteries can match. I can use this trophy as a catalyst for my spells."
- "That blood drew its power from the lives of the innocent," the young Zann-Esu interrupted angrily.
- "And not using it would mean those lives would go to waste," the necromancer retorted. "We can't afford such sentimentality on the battlefield."
- "Why are we allowing this corpsemonger to join us?" she demanded. "His magic is repulsive."
- "I agree," Aan interpolated. "Magic is repulsive. We should the leave the witches. Both of 'em."
- "We do not always choose our allies in war, northman," the amazon replied.
- "The savage has a point, sorceress," Cyrus noted. "What makes my magic more contemptible than yours?"
- "The founders of my sisterhood turned their backs on the unpredictable and unscrupulous magics of the other mage clans," she replied. "We do not distort the natural order, or invade the minds and bodies of others, or bend demons to our will…or raise the dead to do our bidding. We wield the purest form of magic, the fundamental elements of Sanctuary itself, as a sword against its enemies."
- "All power is a sword," he countered, "and a sword is neither good or evil. It is simply a tool. It is how you wield it that defines who you are, and my purpose is no different than yours."
- "Enough," the paladin stepped in. "Dana is right, there will be time for words once our quest is complete. Right now, we must let our actions speak."
Silence reigned for a small moment as the rogues awkwardly made their way over, sensing the tension among their saviors.
The amazon took the initiative and led the way out of the tower under the pouring rain. One by one, the others followed, forming a marching line that ploughed its way through the muddy road that led east.
It was a miserable journey, and for the hundredth time in a decade Dana wondered what had possessed her to leave her island paradise for grimmer climes. She always had an answer, of course, yet this time it was not the same one. Her lodestar was gone, but in its place was a new purpose, and that kept her moving forward.
The downpour eventually turned into a light shower, which raised morale somewhat, but a fog began to form that made it harder for her to detect any potential threats. Still, they marched on, confident in their martial might and the importance of their task.
The hour grew late and the sky grew even darker. It was becoming harder to see as the Rakkisroad became a narrow mountain pass that led upwards, but the amazon and the rogues' keen eyes guided the party forward. Nothing barred their way as they entered the Tamoe Highlands that led to the monastery; no demon, dark rogue or corrupted creature was in sight. It seemed as if the shadow of death itself had fallen on the land and nothing dared disturb it save the monotone drumming of the rain.
The mist grew thinner the further up they went, and in the dying twilight that smeared the grey skies, they spotted a dark shape looming menacingly in the far distance; there Eastgate stood in darkness, black as the night that fell over the world.
