Post by Korski on Jun 21, 2009 0:40:46 GMT -5
*Okay, this one is REALLY old, lol. It's a Diablo 2 fan fiction story and it's got quite a few problems that I decided to leave be. Just for the sake of integrity I guess. It's sort of a look back on where I came from and how I've progressed over time.*
Deep within Mount Arreat, the final battle against Baal, the last of the three Prime Evils, took place under the corrupted glow of the once magnificent Worldstone. The Hero was successful in slaying Baal, but more important matters caused the celebration to be short-lived. With the Worldstone corrupted, it was only a matter of time before the boundaries between Hell and Earth would become non-existent and life as we know it would cease to be. The only option was for the great Archangel Tyrael to destroy the Worldstone, believing that the result of its destruction would be less significant than whatever Baal’s plan had in store for humanity. Thus the Worldstone was shattered and both the Hero and Tyrael left the Barbarian Highlands in hopes that the terror of the Prime Evils had finally been laid to rest. Unfortunately, evil never dies.
What neither humanity nor the forces of Heaven had realized, was that Baal had anticipated his own demise due to the fact that Diablo and Mephisto were already dead. In response, Baal devised a plan that would surely destroy the enemies of Hell even if he died before it went into action. All that Baal’s plan needed to be successful was the destruction of the Worldstone, and thanks to Tyrael, it had already been destroyed.
Those who have battled the Prime Evils know that the purpose of the Soulstones is to trap their demonic spirits within a host. They also know that all Soulstones originate from the Worldstone. It is only fitting that the Worldstone’s true purpose was to act as a prison for two of the most powerful demons ever to exist. These demons were Metzli, the demonic goddess of darkness, and Azathoth, the demonic god of time and space. They were imprisoned inside the Worldstone because of their plot to over through Lucifer and claim all of Hell for themselves. It took the power of all the demonic gods under Lucifer’s influence to capture the two traitors and lock them away. Since that time, Hell’s power has faded significantly and the release of the exiled gods could very well mean the end of existence. It is here that our story begins, far east of the Barbarian Highlands in a pub in the small town of Scosglen, with two young mercenaries, Taros the Paladin, and Asmodeus the Necromancer, that are unaware of the fearsome challenges that await them.
“How long has it been since we’ve had a job in this town?” asked Taros while drinking a pint. “A few weeks at least,” replied Asmodeus. “Why do you ask?” “Well we’re running kinda low on funds and I’d rather not resort to begging on the streets again like we did last time,” Taros said humorously. “I see your point. How about you go scout around for jobs and I’ll wait for you here,” suggested Asmodeus. “ Oh I see how it is. Your gonna make me do all the work again like always,” replied Taros jokingly. He set down his drink and headed for the exit “I’ll see you in a bit.”
A cold gust of wind hit Taros as he opened the door. “Oh my god it’s freezing out here!” Trying to ignore the cold, he continued through the town looking for anyone who seemed to need assistance. After about ten minutes of wandering around, Taros spotted an old man running out of the forest looking rather distressed. “Hey you! What’s the matter!?” Taros yelled. The old man stopped abruptly, nearly falling in the snow, and looked around wildly for the source of the voice. Taros waved to the man and he ran over to him. “What’s your name old man?” He seemed to be almost totally out of breath. “Name…. doesn’t matter…. son captured… by a group… of brutes.” Brutes can be quite intimidating due to the fact that they look like a cross between Bigfoot and a yeti, but their lack of brainpower causes them to be fairly easy to handle. “Damn, I don’t have time to get my partner. Which way did they go!?” “Just… follow the… tracks in the snow.” Taros ran to the edge of the woods and quickly spotted the huge brute tracks leading deeper into the forest. He ran as fast as he could while closely following the tracks. Unfortunately, he looked up just in time to see the tree branch that smacks him in the face and knocks him off him feet. “Oww, my face! Damn trees!” He picked himself up and continued, cautiously, down the path. Eventually the tracks led Taros to the base of a mountain, nearby was what seemed to be a hand-carved cave. “I have a feeling this is more than just brutes.” Just in case of emergencies, he readied zeal. Zeal was not only his favorite attack, but it allowed a Paladin, such as himself, to drastically increase the speed of his attacks. Taros could literally land multiple blows within mere seconds. He slowly entered the cave, sword drawn and concentration aura activated, and heard three distinct noises. One was the growling and grunting of the brutes, the second was the crying of the old man’s son, and the third was the sound of another man that seemed to be speaking to the brutes. Taros went deeper within the cave towards the source of the noise. After a while, he found himself outside the room where the man was. Taros could hear him clearly now. “Almighty god of death! Please accept this boy as a sacrifice to your greatness! Now, my brute slaves, prepare the prisoner for sacrifice.” Taros rolled his eyes. “What is it with cults and sacrificing everything? Oh well, better save the poor kid.” Taros kicked in the door and about ten brutes turned to face him. “Uh oh” The brutes lunged at Taros and he jumps back out the room to try and bottleneck them at the door. “Come and get it!” One by one the brutes run through the door and get massacred by Taros’ lightning quick strikes. He walks over their carcasses and finds the man holding the boy with a knife to his throat. “Come any closer and I’ll kill him!” Taros quickly stops and lowers his sword. “Why are you here paladin!?” “I’ve come for the boy,” Taros answers. “Ha ha ha! You fool. Do you think you can just come in here and…” A bone spear flies out from behind Taros and impales the man in the face. “Oh my god!” Taros turns around. “Asmodeus!” “I couldn’t let you have all the fun,” he laughed. “How did you know I was here?” asked Taros. “I guess the same old man that talked to you came into the bar and told me too.” Taros had a puzzled look on his face. “I feel like I’m forgetting something…” “Do you think it might be the kid?” Asmodeus asked sarcastically. “Oh ya, heh. Come here kid, we’re taking you back to your Dad.” The little boy ran wildly to Taros and latched on to him crying. “Don’t worry kid, we’ll get you back real quick.”
Meanwhile, in the Worldstone Chamber, Azathoth and Metzli had awoken from their slumber. “ Are… are we free? Asked Metzli. “Yessss, I believe we are. The time hassss finally come for ussss to rule thisss world like we were rightfully meant to,” hissed Azathoth. He opens a warp gate, which they both step through. They appear at the top of Mount Arreat and the daylight surprises Metzli. “It’s so bright on the mortal plane! I think I shall make it more to our liking.” With a wave of Metzli’s hand, the sky turns blood red with no sun, moon, or stars in sight. “Yessss, this is much better,” laughs Azathoth. “I believe it’sss time to ssspread the word of our new reign. Come forth my minionsss!!” Hundreds of warp gates appear and numerous creatures from the depths of the void come running out and immediately begin causing mass chaos. Within minutes, the forests all around the great Mount Arreat are burning and the cries of the dying can be heard from all directions. The Apocalypse had truly begun.
As chaos ensued around the immediate area of Mount Arreat, the Archangel Tyrael looked on in horror. He had believed that the destruction of the Worldstone would bring some form of peace to the land, but the results of his actions had only plunged the world deeper into torment. Tyrael did not know the names or origin of the two newfound demons, nor their intentions. He could only see that their power far surpassed anything the mortal realm had faced before. Tyrael, once again, had realized that calling upon the help of the destroyer of the three would be humanity’s best defense against this new threat. Unfortunately, Tyrael could never have known that in bringing the destroyer of the three to fight these new demons, he would unleash even more horrors into the world.
Back in the snow-covered town of Scosglen, our two brave mercenaries had just returned the young boy to his father. “Oh, thank you so much for saving him!” said the father with a sigh of relief. “Well, I couldn’t have done it without…” Taros paused when he turned around and noticed that Asmodeus was nowhere to be seen. “I guess he went back to the pub,” Taros mumbled to himself. “Anyway, could you be bothered for some compensation old man? Seeing as how this is my job,” Taros stated authoritatively. “Oh, of course!” Said the old man as he thought of a fair reward. “It isn’t much, but all I can spare is one hundred gold.” “That’s fine,” said Taros. With payment in hand, Taros returned to the pub and confirmed his suspicions that Asmodeus had done the same. “Why did you leave all of a sudden?” asked Taros. “What do you mean?” Asmodeus replied in a confused manner. “When I met with the old man again to return the boy, you weren’t there. That’s what I mean,” stated Taros. Asmodeus did nothing but stare at Taros for a few moments looking even more confused. “I haven’t moved from my seat since you left Taros.”
At first, Taros thought he was going crazy. “How is that possible? You helped me kill that cultist back in the cave. There’s no way I could’ve imagined that!” Taros seemed lost in deep thought, doubting his own sanity. “Perhaps you had too much to drink,” replied Asmodeus with a smirk. “Ah, whatever. I’m too tired to care at this point.” Taros started walking towards the exit. “Oh, I made a few gold on that mission too. It should be enough for some extra provisions. Anyway, I’m goin to bed. See you at camp.” “I’ll meet up with you later,” Asmodeus informed Taros. As Taros left the pub, Asmodeus tried to think of a reason as to why his partner had been hallucinating. He knew it couldn’t have been the drinks because Taros had hardly finished one glass. However, Maybe he hadn’t been hallucinating at all if Taros claimed that the entity killed a cultist. Perhaps it was some sort of friendly shape shifter? Asmodeus decided that an answer to his questions was bound to show up in due time, be he was tired as well and headed for camp. After he left the pub, he immediately noticed that something was horribly wrong when the sky turned blood red before his eyes. “This can’t be good.”
Returning to the Mount Arreat, Tyrael has arrived at the base of the mountain with the destroyer of the three Prime Evils at his side. The forests and towns that had once surrounded the area had been replaced with charred wasteland “This is where I first found the demons. It is likely that they still reside somewhere within the mountain,” Tyrael explained to the Hero. “It seems that fate has brought me back to this defiled mountain once again to cleanse the new scourge that roams its sacred halls,” stated the Hero in a battle-ready tone. “Do not underestimated our new enemy,” Tyrael warned. “From what I have seen, they are clearly more dangerous than anything you have faced thus far.” The Hero nodded and, without another word, charged into the mountain’s entrance.
As he ran down the icy, abandoned hallways within Mount Arreat, the Hero noticed the complete lack of enemy resistance. Every new floor he entered was completely devoid of any sort of demon. He was beginning to doubt that any evil presence was here at all until he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. The darkness that filled the hallways seemed to be swirling around him like a mist. As it enclosed upon him it started swirling faster and faster until the Hero lost all sense of direction and focus. The mist enveloped him and he blacked out. After what seemed to be an eternity, he awoke in the center of a large room. The Hero recognized it right away. He was in the throne room at the very top of Mount Arreat.
His attention quickly focused on the large warp gate that opened in front of him and the demon that emerged from it. “Who are you?” The Hero demanded. The demon laughed and replied, “I am Azathoth.”
Deep within Mount Arreat, the final battle against Baal, the last of the three Prime Evils, took place under the corrupted glow of the once magnificent Worldstone. The Hero was successful in slaying Baal, but more important matters caused the celebration to be short-lived. With the Worldstone corrupted, it was only a matter of time before the boundaries between Hell and Earth would become non-existent and life as we know it would cease to be. The only option was for the great Archangel Tyrael to destroy the Worldstone, believing that the result of its destruction would be less significant than whatever Baal’s plan had in store for humanity. Thus the Worldstone was shattered and both the Hero and Tyrael left the Barbarian Highlands in hopes that the terror of the Prime Evils had finally been laid to rest. Unfortunately, evil never dies.
What neither humanity nor the forces of Heaven had realized, was that Baal had anticipated his own demise due to the fact that Diablo and Mephisto were already dead. In response, Baal devised a plan that would surely destroy the enemies of Hell even if he died before it went into action. All that Baal’s plan needed to be successful was the destruction of the Worldstone, and thanks to Tyrael, it had already been destroyed.
Those who have battled the Prime Evils know that the purpose of the Soulstones is to trap their demonic spirits within a host. They also know that all Soulstones originate from the Worldstone. It is only fitting that the Worldstone’s true purpose was to act as a prison for two of the most powerful demons ever to exist. These demons were Metzli, the demonic goddess of darkness, and Azathoth, the demonic god of time and space. They were imprisoned inside the Worldstone because of their plot to over through Lucifer and claim all of Hell for themselves. It took the power of all the demonic gods under Lucifer’s influence to capture the two traitors and lock them away. Since that time, Hell’s power has faded significantly and the release of the exiled gods could very well mean the end of existence. It is here that our story begins, far east of the Barbarian Highlands in a pub in the small town of Scosglen, with two young mercenaries, Taros the Paladin, and Asmodeus the Necromancer, that are unaware of the fearsome challenges that await them.
“How long has it been since we’ve had a job in this town?” asked Taros while drinking a pint. “A few weeks at least,” replied Asmodeus. “Why do you ask?” “Well we’re running kinda low on funds and I’d rather not resort to begging on the streets again like we did last time,” Taros said humorously. “I see your point. How about you go scout around for jobs and I’ll wait for you here,” suggested Asmodeus. “ Oh I see how it is. Your gonna make me do all the work again like always,” replied Taros jokingly. He set down his drink and headed for the exit “I’ll see you in a bit.”
A cold gust of wind hit Taros as he opened the door. “Oh my god it’s freezing out here!” Trying to ignore the cold, he continued through the town looking for anyone who seemed to need assistance. After about ten minutes of wandering around, Taros spotted an old man running out of the forest looking rather distressed. “Hey you! What’s the matter!?” Taros yelled. The old man stopped abruptly, nearly falling in the snow, and looked around wildly for the source of the voice. Taros waved to the man and he ran over to him. “What’s your name old man?” He seemed to be almost totally out of breath. “Name…. doesn’t matter…. son captured… by a group… of brutes.” Brutes can be quite intimidating due to the fact that they look like a cross between Bigfoot and a yeti, but their lack of brainpower causes them to be fairly easy to handle. “Damn, I don’t have time to get my partner. Which way did they go!?” “Just… follow the… tracks in the snow.” Taros ran to the edge of the woods and quickly spotted the huge brute tracks leading deeper into the forest. He ran as fast as he could while closely following the tracks. Unfortunately, he looked up just in time to see the tree branch that smacks him in the face and knocks him off him feet. “Oww, my face! Damn trees!” He picked himself up and continued, cautiously, down the path. Eventually the tracks led Taros to the base of a mountain, nearby was what seemed to be a hand-carved cave. “I have a feeling this is more than just brutes.” Just in case of emergencies, he readied zeal. Zeal was not only his favorite attack, but it allowed a Paladin, such as himself, to drastically increase the speed of his attacks. Taros could literally land multiple blows within mere seconds. He slowly entered the cave, sword drawn and concentration aura activated, and heard three distinct noises. One was the growling and grunting of the brutes, the second was the crying of the old man’s son, and the third was the sound of another man that seemed to be speaking to the brutes. Taros went deeper within the cave towards the source of the noise. After a while, he found himself outside the room where the man was. Taros could hear him clearly now. “Almighty god of death! Please accept this boy as a sacrifice to your greatness! Now, my brute slaves, prepare the prisoner for sacrifice.” Taros rolled his eyes. “What is it with cults and sacrificing everything? Oh well, better save the poor kid.” Taros kicked in the door and about ten brutes turned to face him. “Uh oh” The brutes lunged at Taros and he jumps back out the room to try and bottleneck them at the door. “Come and get it!” One by one the brutes run through the door and get massacred by Taros’ lightning quick strikes. He walks over their carcasses and finds the man holding the boy with a knife to his throat. “Come any closer and I’ll kill him!” Taros quickly stops and lowers his sword. “Why are you here paladin!?” “I’ve come for the boy,” Taros answers. “Ha ha ha! You fool. Do you think you can just come in here and…” A bone spear flies out from behind Taros and impales the man in the face. “Oh my god!” Taros turns around. “Asmodeus!” “I couldn’t let you have all the fun,” he laughed. “How did you know I was here?” asked Taros. “I guess the same old man that talked to you came into the bar and told me too.” Taros had a puzzled look on his face. “I feel like I’m forgetting something…” “Do you think it might be the kid?” Asmodeus asked sarcastically. “Oh ya, heh. Come here kid, we’re taking you back to your Dad.” The little boy ran wildly to Taros and latched on to him crying. “Don’t worry kid, we’ll get you back real quick.”
Meanwhile, in the Worldstone Chamber, Azathoth and Metzli had awoken from their slumber. “ Are… are we free? Asked Metzli. “Yessss, I believe we are. The time hassss finally come for ussss to rule thisss world like we were rightfully meant to,” hissed Azathoth. He opens a warp gate, which they both step through. They appear at the top of Mount Arreat and the daylight surprises Metzli. “It’s so bright on the mortal plane! I think I shall make it more to our liking.” With a wave of Metzli’s hand, the sky turns blood red with no sun, moon, or stars in sight. “Yessss, this is much better,” laughs Azathoth. “I believe it’sss time to ssspread the word of our new reign. Come forth my minionsss!!” Hundreds of warp gates appear and numerous creatures from the depths of the void come running out and immediately begin causing mass chaos. Within minutes, the forests all around the great Mount Arreat are burning and the cries of the dying can be heard from all directions. The Apocalypse had truly begun.
As chaos ensued around the immediate area of Mount Arreat, the Archangel Tyrael looked on in horror. He had believed that the destruction of the Worldstone would bring some form of peace to the land, but the results of his actions had only plunged the world deeper into torment. Tyrael did not know the names or origin of the two newfound demons, nor their intentions. He could only see that their power far surpassed anything the mortal realm had faced before. Tyrael, once again, had realized that calling upon the help of the destroyer of the three would be humanity’s best defense against this new threat. Unfortunately, Tyrael could never have known that in bringing the destroyer of the three to fight these new demons, he would unleash even more horrors into the world.
Back in the snow-covered town of Scosglen, our two brave mercenaries had just returned the young boy to his father. “Oh, thank you so much for saving him!” said the father with a sigh of relief. “Well, I couldn’t have done it without…” Taros paused when he turned around and noticed that Asmodeus was nowhere to be seen. “I guess he went back to the pub,” Taros mumbled to himself. “Anyway, could you be bothered for some compensation old man? Seeing as how this is my job,” Taros stated authoritatively. “Oh, of course!” Said the old man as he thought of a fair reward. “It isn’t much, but all I can spare is one hundred gold.” “That’s fine,” said Taros. With payment in hand, Taros returned to the pub and confirmed his suspicions that Asmodeus had done the same. “Why did you leave all of a sudden?” asked Taros. “What do you mean?” Asmodeus replied in a confused manner. “When I met with the old man again to return the boy, you weren’t there. That’s what I mean,” stated Taros. Asmodeus did nothing but stare at Taros for a few moments looking even more confused. “I haven’t moved from my seat since you left Taros.”
At first, Taros thought he was going crazy. “How is that possible? You helped me kill that cultist back in the cave. There’s no way I could’ve imagined that!” Taros seemed lost in deep thought, doubting his own sanity. “Perhaps you had too much to drink,” replied Asmodeus with a smirk. “Ah, whatever. I’m too tired to care at this point.” Taros started walking towards the exit. “Oh, I made a few gold on that mission too. It should be enough for some extra provisions. Anyway, I’m goin to bed. See you at camp.” “I’ll meet up with you later,” Asmodeus informed Taros. As Taros left the pub, Asmodeus tried to think of a reason as to why his partner had been hallucinating. He knew it couldn’t have been the drinks because Taros had hardly finished one glass. However, Maybe he hadn’t been hallucinating at all if Taros claimed that the entity killed a cultist. Perhaps it was some sort of friendly shape shifter? Asmodeus decided that an answer to his questions was bound to show up in due time, be he was tired as well and headed for camp. After he left the pub, he immediately noticed that something was horribly wrong when the sky turned blood red before his eyes. “This can’t be good.”
Returning to the Mount Arreat, Tyrael has arrived at the base of the mountain with the destroyer of the three Prime Evils at his side. The forests and towns that had once surrounded the area had been replaced with charred wasteland “This is where I first found the demons. It is likely that they still reside somewhere within the mountain,” Tyrael explained to the Hero. “It seems that fate has brought me back to this defiled mountain once again to cleanse the new scourge that roams its sacred halls,” stated the Hero in a battle-ready tone. “Do not underestimated our new enemy,” Tyrael warned. “From what I have seen, they are clearly more dangerous than anything you have faced thus far.” The Hero nodded and, without another word, charged into the mountain’s entrance.
As he ran down the icy, abandoned hallways within Mount Arreat, the Hero noticed the complete lack of enemy resistance. Every new floor he entered was completely devoid of any sort of demon. He was beginning to doubt that any evil presence was here at all until he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. The darkness that filled the hallways seemed to be swirling around him like a mist. As it enclosed upon him it started swirling faster and faster until the Hero lost all sense of direction and focus. The mist enveloped him and he blacked out. After what seemed to be an eternity, he awoke in the center of a large room. The Hero recognized it right away. He was in the throne room at the very top of Mount Arreat.
His attention quickly focused on the large warp gate that opened in front of him and the demon that emerged from it. “Who are you?” The Hero demanded. The demon laughed and replied, “I am Azathoth.”