Difference between revisions of "Tearlach (Chapter 25)"

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#REDIRECT [[Tearlach (Act IV)#Chapter 25]]
This looks a lot more like Hell, Tearlach thought.  The River of Flame was just that, a river of flames.  Not lava, or water with burning oil floating on it, but genuine flames crackling along in a deep river channel.  As he came down the stairs, he could clearly see a flow in the river, washing up from some source deep down below.  Was there something burning on the bottom of the channel, Tearlach wondered?  Or did the flame come out of nothing?  Fire that needed no fuel would be good in the northlands, especially in winter when firewood was hard to find.  Experimentally, he spat; it never made it to the bottom, vanishing in a hiss of steam.  Hmm... maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to have this around the house.
 
 
 
The bottom of the stairs rested on an island of solidified magma, which was tolerably cool despite the fire all around it.  The island was a long one, aligned with the flow of the river but with many little inlets and nooks to jump across.  Some parts were constructed of blocks of the ever-present dark gray stone, with walls of iron spikes.  Holes were punched through the walls in many places, and the floor occasionally sagged down into the flames; Tearlach hurried across those parts. 
 
 
 
Apart from the roaring and shrieking of the river itself, Tearlach could hear nothing.  It seemed like no one was home -- then balls of fire and poison came blasting across a nearby gap.  Wizards.  Why does it always have to be wizards?  He leapt to the attack, and landed in the middle of the biggest swarm of bugs he'd ever seen.  Yes, this really is Hell.  I hate cockroaches, especially the kind that's three feet long and tries to eat your feet.
 
 
 
The roaches, it turned out, were merely the young ones.  They were born from eggs laid by  mothers, who looked a lot like the poison bugs from the desert;  spat like them, too.  The undead wizards who'd first attracted his attention formed a ring around Tearlach, firing away.  Never before having been presented with this golden opportunity, he waited until the last possible moment, then leapt straight up.  Unfortunately, the magician's bolts didn't strike each other down; most of them just plain missed.  Oh, well, it was worth a shot.  He leapt from wizard to wizard, carving each up in turn before moving on to the next.
 
 
 
All that moving around attracted attention: big demons with swords, and some more wizards.  They must have gathered together back here, waiting for him to come to them.  Not a bad strategy... one not of the blood of Bul-Kathos might get himself killed.  Even Tearlach was greatly inconvenienced.  Those giant cockroaches laid eggs so fast, their hind ends were caving in, and spat so much poison their front ends began to cave in.  The eggs hatched so quickly he barely had time to notice before the ground was covered in little crawling nippers, so thick he had to leap over them.  Even after killing everything else, he didn't dare unleash a berserk fury on the little bastards.  Not that he needed to, he crushed each one easily with a single blow, but they were just too many to leave himself open like that.
 
 
 
Finally, after killing everything  in sight and sorting through the small and disappointing pile of loot, Tearlach went to explore a side-branch of the island.  You'd think that as troublesome as the roaches were to stomp, they'd at least have some loot.  Being new-born is no excuse.  No doubt about it, he had a new "first monster to kill."  He just hoped he'd never have to forced to choose between these and the obscene mothers.  Two kinds of creatures spawning hordes of little ones would be a hard choice -- the mothers didn't have as many offspring, but they were so much more disturbing...
 
 
 
Grunting noises snapped Tearlach out of his reverie.  A mass of giants were wobbling their way towards him, with more skeleton wizards behind them supplying covering fire.  Didn't he run into things like them in Lord Youngling's palace?  Whatever, they were stupid; a false retreat worked very nicely, scattering the group so he could unleash his fury on them one or two at a time.  The tactic lured the wizards out too; one them even tried to use his sword, probably for the first time in his life.  It's so deeply pleasing to teach wizards the rewards of overconfidence.  As he thinned the crowd, Tearlach got a good look at what lay ahead: piles and piles of giant roaches pooting out as many eggs as their swollen abdomens could hold, and what looked like a smithy.  He could hardly hear it over the river's roar, but something was working up there.
 
 
 
There was a smith, pounding steel that seemed to scream with every strike on the heat of an anvil made of bone.  Glancing at the roaches, Tearlach realized he'd have to kill the smith, but didn't want to do it here.  He'd be up to his knees in bugs in a few seconds.  The smith seemed to have gone deaf from years working his forge, but noticed a skull bouncing off the back of his head and charged to the attack.  Well... more like waddled to the attack, but he came, and followed Tearlach away, swinging his hammer.  For such a big creature, the smith didn't hit very hard.  Maybe, in Hell as on earth, smiths were using magic to make weapons these days.  Maybe magic was easier, but big muscles have other advantages.
 
 
 
After killing off the roaches (which took a lot more time than killing the smith) Tearlach took a look at the Hellforge.  The forge and tools were not iron, but bone: huge bones burnt black and shaped in ways no living creature should be shaped.  Magical energy was clearly visible coursing through the forge, and the heat channeled up from the river was wilting.  What was it the wizard said?  Destroy Mephisto's soulstone on the Hellforge.  Right.
 
 
 
Tearlach got the stone and put it in the fire.  The green glow inside seemed to get excited, but the stone was not destroyed.  After carefully fishing it out, he put it on the anvil and hit it with the tongs.  Is that spirit inside there laughing at me?  It needs a bigger whack.  The tongs eventually broke, so Tearlach got the smith's hammer.  No sense notching his axe on this thing.  The hammer (which was shockingly light for a smithing tool) finally did the job, shattering the soulstone into a thousand little itty bitty tiny little pieces that scattered on the ground.  Spirits rose from each shard, twirling and wafting up into the sky.  They must have been imprisoned by Mephisto, but now were free.  Maybe they'd make it out of Hell, to whatever reward they really deserved.  How do you imprison a soul, Tearlach wondered?  No, best not to even ask; without that knowledge, men can only put chains on your body.
 
 
 
Some of the soulstone fragments were quite large; Tearlach's impulse to loot got the better of him, and he picked them up.  Most were blue, empty of Mephisto's spirit, but one was clear as ice.  These might make good gemstones, if they were free of evil.  Best to ask that angel before using them.
 
 
 
Back in the fortress, the old wizard accosted him excitedly.  "Congratulations!  Surely even Diablo sensed the fury unleashed when you smashed his brother's soulstone.  You have struck your first resounding blow against The Three, one from which they will not easily recover."
 
 
 
"Aye, that's true.  Wait, how did you know?"
 
 
 
Cain smiled.  "Because Tyrael has returned to us, with news."
 
 
 
"Your deed is impressive, mortal," the angel intoned.  "I wish there were time for you to celebrate your victory.  Sadly, you must move more quickly than ever, for only Diablo came down to Hell."
 
 
 
"Huh," Tearlach snorted.  "What about... the other one?"
 
 
 
"Baal remained behind on the mortal plane.  His soulstone was taken from him, but he has recovered it.  During your time here, Baal raised an army, and marched on Mt. Arreat."
 
 
 
Slowly letting his breath out, Tearlach nodded.  "So the end days are upon us.  No matter.  The defenses my people built still gird the sacred mountain, as strong and lasting as the rock itself.  We who are as one with the land since the days of the Ancients will meet any demon who dares show his face and destroy him utterly.  Thus it has always been, and thus it will always be."
 
 
 
"I fear the battle does not go well.  When Baal's legions came, your people did not fear his arrival, and the clans were slow to gather.  They marched day and night without rest, and when they reached Sescheron, it was nearly empty of warriors.  Within two days, the capital was burned to ashes, and Baal moved to the city of Harrogath."
 
 
 
Blinking, Tearlach slowly said, "They... must have been taken by surprise."
 
 
 
"It matters little now," Tyrael continued.  "The clans blame each other for the loss, and old feuds which should have been forgotten have taken on new life.  The Snake refuses to help the Bear, and the Wolf will not aid his brother.  Only a few warriors have gathered to defend Harrogath... too few, I believe."
 
 
 
"Oh, dear," Cain muttered.  "Barbarian clan warfare is legendary for the stubbornness of its combatants."
 
 
 
"Pfhaugh," Tearlach snorted, shifting nervously from one foot to another.  "The clan elders should have gathered by now.  A single word from them will set aside all feuds."
 
 
 
"Most of your elders have died, though I am not sure how.  Unlike so many of your chiefs and war leaders, they were not in Sescheron; they seem to have met their fate while raising a protective dome over Harrogath."
 
 
 
"Protective dome?  What?"
 
 
 
"Using an ancient druidic ritual, like the..."
 
 
 
"WHAT!?!?" Tearlach bellowed, "Druids?!  Those half-beast trickster wizards are not allowed to come near the sacred mountain!!  Are the ancient laws forbidding them just so much hot breath?  Is the great Qual-Kehk dead too, so that none may stand up to them?  And what are they doing with the elders?"
 
 
 
With what could only be described as a patient sigh, Tyrael waved his hand.  "Calm your mind.  I know this is strange to you, but the elders of the Barbarian clans are Druids.  They have always been.  After Sescheron fell, the elders used their magic to raise a dome over Harrogath.  The city is safe, but your warriors have fared poorly against Baal's forces, and Mt. Arreat is almost undefended."
 
 
 
Tearlach's eyes narrowed.  "I don't believe you.  You lie."
 
 
 
"Whether you believe me or not, I am trying to help you. That is all I have ever done.  You must defeat Diablo, and destroy his soulstone to banish him from your world forever.  Then you must return to your homeland to face Baal.  Qual-Kehk's warriors do not know how to defeat Baal's army; even their survival is in question.  You must bring that knowledge to them, and save the secret of Mt. Arreat, by whatever means are necessary."
 

Latest revision as of 16:14, 12 February 2017