Hell's Brethren (prologue)

Info: I based this game off a few ideas I've had but could never use in any of my books. I always thought there had to be a tale to tell in diablo2, not just the lore, but the stories of those who fought so hard. the stories of the heroes who live and die. So I decided to write this bit. If people like it I'll write more, this is just the prologue :3

prologue:
“Keep your aim steady!” A cry sounded through the shrieks of demons. “Shoot! I can’t keep holding them off!” the cry of the distressed man was nearly drowned out by the howl of hellspawn that pooled out from the lava, magma dripping from their agape mouths and spilling from their backs as wings rose up. The beasts roared, flames furrowing out of their mouth towards the skeletal army of the man. The fire tore through the meager bones, ripping cartilage and marrow into shreds that flamed away into ashes.

The young woman behind the man shot forth a blistering arrow, ice sheathing it as it pierced into the eye of the large humanoid fire breather. The beast howled, its maw opened, pallid ashes spilling forth and turning to liquid that poured from its sharp teeth and down its muscled chest. Its wings curled up behind it as it tumbled back into the lava, the molten liquid hissing and streaming up, splashing against the thin, rocky path to hell’s gates and the entrance to the lord of terror’s throne.

However, the shot was for naught, for the brethren of the beast rose with just as much ire and desire for flesh of the living, their wings reaching up towards the craggy rock ceiling, pointing to their destination. Though they were trapped the farthest down in the caves of lava, they were the most brutal and powerful, their hatred searing the nearby air alight into flames that swirled and flickered anyone’s vision like the blistering sun miles above would. Roars tore from their mouths as they stepped onto the path, leaving pools of lava from their clawed feet.

“Amazhie!” the man cried, a spear of ethereal bone slicing from his hand and into one of the beasts. The creature faltered but snarled, stepping forward despite the force that slammed into its muscular body. “Hurry!”

“Crones, I can’t fire these things any faster! Get your army up!” the Amazon screamed behind him, firing an arrow that ripped apart in contact with the air, splitting into many, the wood splintering as the new arrows each landed into the closest demon. Amazhie’s breathing was ragged but she had no time to waste, knocking another arrow and taking aim. Blood tricked from her hands, making it difficult to reload. The green liquid-viscous by nature of the large larva they had killed before-slowed her pace, but not her determination. Another few spears of bone flew from the man in front of her, his armor, too, slicked with blood. Only, much of it was his. The crimson fluid streaked down the silver plates among his back that acted as a strong hide that could repel nearly and physical attack. They were worn, dented, and charred in many places. She knew he was struggling, but she could not help the necromancer anymore than she was. Feeling that the spiritual force around her was very weak, she couldn’t gather the blessings of her goddess Athulua to gain a valkyrie to help her friend. She didn’t have any potions, either. The amazon warrior had run out shortly before this point and insisted to Crones that she didn’t need any to fire her bow.

Sweat trickled down her brow and she had to close her left eye, letting another frost-breathing arrow loose. It missed its target, tearing through the air and slamming into the lava, leaving no more than a humid breath in the air from the sudden chill of cold that quickly returned to its molten state. She saw the necromancer pull out a potion just as the beast came upon him. Still, she knew there was nothing he could do. Many of the skills of a necromancer required mana, as they were not hand to hand fighters for the most part. She saw him tilt his head back, the creamy blue liquid draining slowly from its glass container. Amazhie knew from experience that the liquid was bitter and tart; not a treat at all to drink. It seemed no magic in the world could make the concoction taste delightful. All the spell casters had learned to accept it, by now. There was no way around it. Amazhie fired another arrow into the beast, this one exploded when it touched the beast, but it could not stop the claw that came down, ripping into the armor and peeling it away like a wrapper. “Crones!” she screamed, seeing the blood trail down as the mana potion flew to the side, smashing into pieces on the ground and the liquid evaporating on the hot path.

Amazhie knocked another exploding arrow, this one throwing the molten lava-breather back to the edge of the path. She saw Crones’ hand rise shakily, a bottle in his hand as he pressed it to his lips. His free hand tried to push his body up, but it wouldn't move, blood pooling under his torn armor. Jagged edges of the once powerful plated armor curled up around his chest, leaving a ghastly open wound that could still easily heal if Crones could drink the potion. The Amazon cried out for her friend as her plated boots slammed against the hardened lava beneath her feet. She cried his name, firing another arrow at the beast and freezing it solid. It toppled backwards, its beastly form shattering into thousands of sapphire pieces that scattered across the ground or tumbled into the lava with a sizzling hiss. There was no stopping the other monsters, though and the woman screamed for her comrade. He looked to her and grinned, raising his hand to the air. He clenched his fingers in the air, his eyes shutting as he mouthed a few words, the beasts running toward him and looking to Amazhie, their eyes flashing red and evilly. The necromancer smiled serenely at her, knowing the ending. The woman screamed at him not to, but it was too late. Crone, clutching his hands, closed his eyes one last time and there was a sickening splattering and crunching as his body exploded, remnants of his corpse shattering forth and slamming into the beasts, the silent, yet suddenly thunderous roar of the impact sending shockwaves through the air, tearing apart the demons and flinging their mangles bodied to the ground or into the lava.

“Crones!” the Amazon cried, running to the pile of bloody, bones and shrapnel lying on the ground where her dear friend once was. “No!” she screamed, running her hands through the remnants of her comrade, blood staining her fingers as tears ran from her pale face, her frayed golden hair haloing her mourning face. A sob wretched from her chest as she buried her face in her bloodstained hands; the only thing left of the necromancer a pool of blood upon the pathway to the gates of hell.


PS: any comments or help are appreciated =3

 

Why did you kill off the necro?

You could use an editor.

Good though, but I was expecting the necro to use poison nova.

 

I just edited it =P
i plan to use one of my friends as one
and oh, you'll see where i'm going with this =3

 

She could go to church and try to revive him, but it would fail if she did. thats my idea.

 

Actually, killing off a necro could mean that Kurai could bring in a new bad@$$ necro :>

 

i like that no one sees where i'm going with this, it makes it fun =3

 

You're going to bring in the Witch Doctor to replace Crone?

 

no, this is d2 xD

 

i think i know....

Spoiler

do not click these if you don't want to know

Spoiler

you go to hell

 

i mades a poll :3

 

The poll has been up for three hours, and I am the only one to vote, for shame you guys.

 

...for shame...

 

thanks for voting, the few of you that did ^-^

 

The necromancer killed is obviously an evil person having dabbled in necromancy. Thus when he dies, he goes to hell. As the Ammy continues forth she'll run into him, either re-uniting, or having to fight a new lieutenant of Diablo.

 

Evil is a point of view Hadean.

I don't share your view point.

 

well by classical view point necromancy is a 'dark art' and thus, regardless of whatever cause he fights for, condemns him to hell.

 

well said, dark =P
if you read diablo2 lore, you'd know necromancers are the only group who cannot be corrupted. for they understand the perfect balance of lie. unlike others, they do not fear it, accepting death as a natural part of life. they are unafraid to die and do not seek power, thus why they cannot be corrupted. they understand how fragile life is, and that death is just another phase of it. the necromancers (for the game) know that the three prime evils (diablo, mephisto, and baal) are upsettting the balance and thus go out to try and destroy the evils and restore the balance. the use or affects of their magic do not determine whether they are evil or good.

 

pfft lore...

 

Pfft, human nature to label anything they don't understand as evil.

And thanks kurai.

 

It's not the "don't understand" thing. WE created necromancers and we labeled them as evil (in general), so unless stated otherwise (like here) they are evil just because they are necromancers.