Tearlach (Chapter 14)

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Template:Tearlach nav As Tearlach strutted over, smiling that smug, cocky smile of his, a frown creased Fara's brow. This man would vex a saint. "Shouldn't you be engaged on your quest? Diablo must be nearing his goal."

"My destiny will lead me to him," Tearlach said with complete self-assurance. "He can run, but cannot hide for long. There's time enough for many kinds of engagements."

"Which reminds me, I have an appointment to keep elsewhere..."

"At ten o'clock at night? Wench, you've been hiding from me too long. There are other destinies, ones that call man and woman together --"

"Look," Fara exclaimed, pointing behind him, "it's one of the men who robbed you on your first night in town!"

"Where?" Tearlach whirled about, but saw no one.

"He just went into the tavern. Hurry, you might catch him!"

In a moment, Tearlach was shoving his way into the tavern. "RIGHT! There's a man I want in here, and he'd better --"

In its long and sordid history, Atma's tavern had never emptied that fast. Greiz's warriors, innocent townsfolk, even the cook all dove out the windows or trampled each other getting through the back door. When the dust settled, all that was left were a couple of barmaids, and Geglash. He sat up from his stupor in the corner, looked around with bleary eyes, and muttered, "Gee, kind of slow for a saturday night..."

There was no way he could chase them all down, so Tearlach went back to Fara's. Her door was closed, the lights were dark. Damn it, the woman tricked him. Doesn't she realize how important he's going to be after he kills The Three? Fame, reputation, money -- he'd have it all. What woman with any sense would refuse that? Maybe after he had the world under his heel, she'd see the light of reason. But then there's Kashya; how could he choose between them? Both were fine... so why not have both? He'd be king of the world, they'd be fools to refuse him, he could have either anytime! Maybe at the same time, even...

While he was musing over these and other pleasant thoughts, Cain came over. "There you are! I'm glad you didn't go far. This is Horazon's journal!"

"Aye," Tearlach muttered.

"I would guess that what you found in Jerhyn's palace was Horazon's Arcane Sanctuary, a sanctum the legendary Vizjerei archmage built centuries ago."

"Aye."

"The sanctuary was built before the Mage Wars, when the brothers Horazon and Bartuc were heads of the Vizjerei mage clan. Do you remember my telling you about the conflict which arose out of that unfortunate situation?"

"Aye."

Cain seemed a bit surprised. "Oh! I wasn't sure if you were listening. Horazon was very interested in the current events of his time, and according to legend, had many portals in his sanctuary through which he could travel to distant parts of the world."

"Aye."

"Ah, then you cannot help but realize the importance of this! The binding of The Three took place shortly after the mage wars, and it seems Horazon was still alive, hiding from the world in his sanctuary. He recorded the location of Baal's tomb, and here it is!"

Old fart #1 was holding something in front of Tearlach's face, so he looked at it. It was the book, open to a page with a picture of a triangle and some writing. "Hmm..." Tearlach said discerningly, "very interesting."

"And useful to you for your quest! One of the portals in Horazon's sanctuary should take you to the Valley of the Magi and Tal Rasha's tomb!"

"Oh. Sure, uh, portal, Valley of the Magi. Is that like the Valley of the Kings?"

"No mere kings are entombed there! In those happy days when the mage clans set aside their differences and formed the Horadrim, that canyon was set aside for the burial of the most powerful. It is in the most remote desert, far from any oasis; even the roving desert nomads do not venture near it. In fact, it is so safe from all forms of intrusion, it was the only place even considered for imprisoning Baal. I only hope it was safe enough."

"Sounds like a long, thirsty walk."

"Which is why you should take the portal, and pray you are not too late. Diablo was here weeks before you, and time is growing short!"

"Time is always short for you. I'll take your portal and be back by morning."

Looking around, Tearlach noticed his mercenary was gone. They always keep wandering away whenever he gets back to town. After catching the guy (or someone who looked like him) Tearlach got out his magic box to see if it would repair equipment. Fara was probably going to pretend she couldn't hear him all night; another trick women play. Inside the box was a heavy belt, and a note:


Yo, Buck Plankchest!

Here you go, just for you: it's Goldwrap! An axeman needs a little boost in speed anyways. Don't try to fix stuff in here, it won't work. Once you get through them tombs, I've got another surprise for you, but not until you get across the sea. Don't forget your water wings!

-- The Mule


Not for the first time, Tearlach wondered if he'd ever get the chance to beat up destiny's messenger for being such a snot. No one should have to tolerate someone that obnoxious. After recapturing the merc, Tearlach made his way through Horazon's Fortress (whatever it was called) and found the appropriate gate. The Valley of the Magi was small and very dark, with steep sides that admitted little moonlight. The Horadrim built a waypoint here too, of course; a lot quicker than walking.

The canyon was full of kitty people from top to bottom. While killing them, Tearlach had a look around. Seven pretentiously huge tomb entrances led to tunnels burrowing deep into the canyon walls; it was not obvious which one held Baal. As the rising sun's light filtered weakly into the canyon, Tearlach picked a tomb at random. It was small, but had plenty of mummies and other undead. Tearlach was getting so sick of walking dead. If destiny took him across the sea, it couldn't be too soon. Surely, other people must treat their dead more sensibly, and he'd never have to look another zombie in the face again.

Everything went fine until he ran into the beetle. It was a powerful one, which spit out far more than the usual number of sparks every time a weapon struck it. After killing it, he found plenty of loot in a fine golden chest nearby, but needed another mercenary. The new merc was asleep when Tearlach found him, which eliminated the tedious business of running him down. You'd think even a southlander could go into battle with more dignity, not with all that crying and screaming for his mommy.

Even a southlander will fight if thrown directly in the path of an oncoming monster. Tearlach used this to his advantage; the occasional well-placed kick is also a good motivational tool. All went well until the monster in question was a lightning-enchanted Gorebelly. Shortly afterwards, Tearlach needed another mercenary. The next tomb wasn't the right one either, but it had a huge mummy laughing soullessly at the end of a long hallway. On his way back for yet another mercenary, Tearlach considered his tactics. This might not be a bad battle strategy. Meet a demon who's too powerful? Throw a henchman at it and run while it's busy. Southlanders were good for something after all!

Eager to experiment, Tearlach went back to Lut Gholein for another merc. They must have sensed his eagerness: the town looked deserted. No one was on the walls, the houses and shops were all closed and shuttered, even the palace gates were closed. The tavern was open, but it was empty except for the barmaid in black playing solitaire, and that big stupid drunk guy. Hmm, maybe he'd be good in a fight...

"There you are, you bastard," a voice said from the corner. "Fara said you'd come here."

It was the mercenary captain, looking peevish. "What?!" Tearlach gently inquired.

"You keep kidnapping my soldiers without paying for them. You owe me --"

"I owe you nothing, you selfish coward! I paid for a mercenary, I'll get a mercenary! You got my gold, isn't it good enough for you?"

"You didn't hire a mercenary, you hired Emilio. If he dies, you don't get to pick another."

"Why not?! I don't care what his name is, if I hire a mercenary, I get a mercenary!"

"That's right," Greiz said. "You hired a mercenary. One guy. He serves his contract until you fire him, or he dies. Then the contract ends."

"Damn you southlanders and your legalistic arguments! Where I am from, we know what words mean, and don't try to hide behind split hairs!"

Geglash blinked. "You can't hide behind a split hair, can you?" he asked Atma.

"It sounds easier than arguing contract law with a Barbarian," she replied.

"No more of my men go with you," Greiz said. "You've had your hire. That's it."

"Like I ever needed your mercenaries anyway! Don't know why I hired them in the first place! They're useless, thick-headed, whimpering little wimps who curl up and die at the first bolt of lightning!"

"You kept all the lightning resistance gear for yourself, didn't you?"

"Damn right! It's mine by right of destiny. When I'm king of the world, you'll pay for your damned insolence."

"Yeah. Right. See you then."

Damn mercenaries, mercenary captains, damn them all to hell! Tearlach went back alone and smashed his way through the next tomb. It was full of ghosts, which the mummies could raise back to undeath too. Damn, that was annoying. After he'd conquered the world, he'd have to remember to outlaw mummies. And kill everyone who made the things. It was a sick and bizarre practice, and should be banned. They were all wizards anyway, it's not like the world would be a worse place. This tomb was the right one -- in a small chamber far in the back, he found a room with a socket in the floor, just the right size for the staff. Someone had even been kind enough to blow all the sand out first.

Sure enough, the Horadric staff fit the hole, and a blast of lightning opened a hole in one wall. Tearlach entered and slid down a muddy slope, ready for anything. Mud? What was a room full of mud doing in the desert? Wait, it wasn't mud, it was... As he realized what he was standing hip deep in, the horrible smell assailed him, worse even than Aunt Noracci's prize-winning haggis. "Looking for Baal?" a deep voice croaked, and a maggot the size of a house came wriggling out of the darkness.

The battle was joined as the thing's soft pulpy body slammed into him. Tearlach hacked at one spot, trying to get deep enough into the thing's body to reach something vital. It rolled over and smashed him with its short flailing limbs. There was a face up on one end, but its brains were probably not its most vulnerable area. Finally, he found the heart, or something pulsing deep in the thing's body, and tore it out with his bare hands. Most of its viscera came with it, and Tearlach made a new discovery: something that smelled worse than what was filling the pit.

The earth shook, kind of like it did when Andarial died; could this thing be Baal? What a disappointment, surely the Lord of Destruction had to be tougher than this! Looking around, Tearlach saw paintings on the walls, showing a man being chained up with a big red gem in his chest. Chaining a demon does no good, but killing doesn't work either. It looks like the only way to deal with demons is eternal war. Good thing war is so much fun. Just to be sure it was Baal, he got out of the pit to explore the chamber.

There was a huge chamber in the back, with a pit of fire around a rock suspended in the air. A robe bridge (you'd think Horadrim mages would go for something flashier) led to the rock, and over it, an armored angel hovered. An angel! The like had not been seen on earth since the days of yore. Bul-Kathos was fathered by an angel, and his children were favored over all others ever since. This one must have come down to bless Tearlach and his quest. It's always a good thing to have angels on your side, so he came forward.

"Greetings, mortal. It is good to see you... though I did expect you earlier."

"Ah, these stupid southlanders kept slowing me down. They were no help at all. It'll be a pleasure to smash their faces in and show 'em who's boss when The Three are all dead."

"Mortal, you have not slain Baal, merely Duriel, another of the lesser evils. Diablo and Baal are on their way to join their brother Mephisto in Kurast."

"Bastard demons! He ran away again! Doesn't he realize --"

"That his destiny is to die by your hand? Whether it is or not is immaterial. Diablo seeks his own destiny with undivided attention. His goal is to reduce your world to ashes. He and his brothers will do so if they are allowed to reunite. You must go to Kurast. Find Diablo and Baal before they meet Mephisto; failing that, destroy him so that they cannot join forces. If The Three become one again, your world is doomed."


Concluding thoughts:

  1. It sucks trying to start a character who specializes in a level 30 skill.
  2. Avenger Guards look goofy. But not as goofy as Horned Helms.
  3. Champion Xanthippe is moving to the "retired" folder for now. The Ancients are bastards in Nightmare, though they would have been easier to deal with if I'd remembered to turn off "players 8" first. Didn't repeat that mistake with Lister.