Thaddeus

Diablo II	Notation	Basic	Class	Skill	Item	Ally	Quest	Area	Monster	Tale

Mizor	I	II	III	IV	V	Xanthippe	I	II	III	IV	V	Thaddeus	I	II	III	IV	V	Tearlach	I	II	III	IV	V	Varnae	I	II	III	IV	V	Amanita	I	II	III	IV	V	Bodiccea	I	II	III	IV	V

The Paladin is probably my favorite character. The breadth of skills he has really make him the best generalist -- he can change his tactics to fit almost any situation, recover quickly, and play the game in a great variety of ways. While he's never overwhelmingly powerful, he's never helpless; I consider that a good balance in a character. To my way of thinking, a character who makes the game too easy is as unsatisfying as one for whom it's too hard.

I've played martyrs and zealots, chargers and rangers, smiters and missionaries, but one variant I never got around to trying was the hammerdin, a specialist in Blessed Hammer. Not sure why, it sounded intriguing, but I never did it. This seems like a good time to make one, especially since Mizor found and muled a fairly nice hammerdin scepter. So... what goes into a good hammer man?

Blessed Hammer is hard to aim, difficult to use in tight spaces, and not much good for dealing with single tough targets like bosses. Fortunately, I am a believer in back-up skills, and the Paladin is excellent for that. Charge for the lightning enchanted, Zeal for leaching, and Vengeance for the physical immunes should do. Forget about Fist of the Heavens and Conversion, as tempting as it might be to turn Lister's buddies against him.
The only aura that enhances Blessed Hammer is Concentrate, and only at half effect, so Concentrate will be my aura of choice. Concentrate gives no attack rating bonus, so I will need dexterity. I will also need some energy, unlike most Paladins, so he won't be as strong or tough as my usual. My only other choice of offensive aura is Holy Freeze; it's just too useful not to take. For defensive auras, Meditation and Redemption should do nicely.
Blessed Hammer is a broad-area attack, and should work best if the monsters are all close to the Paladin in a bunch. This will take some herding, which is harder if there's a mercenary distracting some of the beasties. Our holy warrior shall go mercless.
Equipment-wise, I've got that war scepter, an "Ancient's Pledge" pally shield, a ring with loads of mana, Frostburns, some socketed stuff and the necessary runes. All I'll need is a good weapon switch, a war hammer or a big ol' maul. It's a hammer, right?

What kind of man should this Paladin be? Some background: the Paladins are from a western group who split from the traditional church during a great and bloody crusade. The western rebels felt their duty was the protection of rights, not punishment of wrongs, a defensive role. The skill Blessed Hammer also has a defensive, protective origin; a group of nuns sacrificed themselves to protect the Hammer of Ghrab Thaar from an undead invasion.

Our Paladin should think of himself first and foremost as a defender. Other people's needs should weigh more heavily on him than his own, and his use of the hammers means he'll rely less on the strength of his arm than the power of his faith. Devotion to others and to the light, self-sacrifice, and calm concentration. He sure won't be much fun at parties, but being more mature and less profane than Xanthippe isn't a bad thing. My weapons of choice will be hammers (even the war scepter looks like a hammer on the game sprite) so his name ought to evoke that... Maxwell? M.C.? No, something with a little more dignity. Thaddeus. Sounds vaguely like *thud*.

Act 1

Chapter 1

It has been told to you, in the beginning,

Light shone upon the darkness

And the foundations of earth were lain.

The herald of good tidings rose above stone and fire,

Who declared it from the beginning, and before.

-- Visions of Akarat, c. 1, v. 17-21

The plains of Khanduras are home to many people, and many churches of Zakarum to serve them and protect them from darkness. When Paladins first came to the west, they were known as "Protectors of the Word", but as the western lands were blessed by the Light and teachings of Zakarum, the priests no longer needed armed guardians, and the Protectors happily faded from view. When Paladins were heard from again, they were called by a new name: the Hand of Zakarum. These guardians came not to protect their gentler brethren, but to seek out evil and wrest it from the world, by force as was necessary.

As the Paladins and priests of Zakarum advanced their inquisition into the corruption caused by demonkind over the whole world, a schism developed behind the facade of unity the church sought to project. Priests rebelled, and warriors of the light cast down their swords. The council in Kurast condemned their insubordinate members, saying they were deceived by demoniacal influences. For their part, the smaller contingent of protesters said the Church of the Light had lost its way; their fanatical persecution of free peoples had distracted them from the true teaching. But their numbers were few, and they could not hope to sway the inquisition from its determination.

Speaking could accomplish nothing, so the dissidents left quietly, going out into the less-civilized parts of the west to keep their vision of the Light alive. In the east, the Hand of Zakarum had polluted the name of Paladin in the minds of many. The older name was invoked again in the west, and the Protectors of the Word are now known again by those whom they serve. There are not many, and they have scattered to the many churches, monasteries, and small farming towns of the plains of Khanduras and Westmarch. There, they serve the Light and administer to the needs of the people... often working against the Kurastite bishops and priests sent from the east for the same purpose.

When demons began to roam the land, the dead rose from their graves, and dark clouds obscured the sun from view, Paladins began to be heard from again. Many died as darkness suddenly erupted in new places, and as the few survivors fled, word spread swiftly, and fresh acolytes abandoned their studies to take up their swords. They went where they might be needed, any settlement, village, or outpost which might be in danger. The most experienced warriors searched for the source of the demonic outbreak; it had to be one of The Three Brothers, probably Diablo, the Lord of Terror. He was rumored to have been imprisoned in this part of the world by the Horadrim, somewhere, centuries ago.

When called, Thaddeus went to the Monastery of the Sightless Eye, a well-established stronghold across a high mountain pass. The Rogues of the Sightless Eye are a martial order, no passive monks or nuns who need complete protection. But Ahlus, the paladin who watched over the monastery with the Rogues, had not been heard from since the troubles began. She was strong with the light, but always punctual with her letters. It was unlikely that such a strong monastery had fallen, so an acolyte was sent to seek her out and inquire after her tardiness. Thaddeus went to the monastery, and with him, carried holy relics for safe-keeping: the scepter Knell Striker, and the Umbral Disk, a disk of pure light encased in a shell of black iron.

When Thaddeus arrived at the base of the mountains, he found the land fouled with demons and corrupted beasts. The birds of the air, even the squealing rats who normally hid in the fields dove at him, biting and clawing. Terrible things were stalking Khanduras, and they became more numerous as he got closer to the mountains. As he reached the outer ring of farmlands which supported the Rogues with their food and fealty, Thaddeus found a crude fortress, bound together from logs and rope. The walls were manned by women archers; they must be the sisters of the Sightless Eye. What had become of the monastery?

Thaddeus approached the Rogues openly, calling out to announce himself. He was not fired upon; whatever they feared, it did not look like a man. The fortress walls circled a motley collection of tents and wagons; it looked like a caravan was sheltering here. A couple of dozen Rogues guarded the walls, or listlessly stood about near the tents. Some merchants were there too, but they looked less despondent; merely impatient and frustrated with their present predicament. A stocky, bearded man in the middle of camp stepped forward to greet Thaddeus, clapping him on the shoulders.

"Well met, noble Paladin! I am Warriv, master of this merchant caravan. It has been a long time since I have seen any of your kind here in the west! Many times, Paladins have guarded my caravan from danger, and you will always be a welcome sight for me."

"Thank you," Thaddeus replied. "I am Thaddeus, an acolyte of Zakarum. Has something happened to the monastery?"

"It is a terrible tale. A few weeks ago, a dark wanderer came through here, traveling from the southwest. I don't know who he was, but terror seems to have followed in his wake. Since he went through the pass, the Rogues have been ejected from their monastery, the gates are closed, and the land is plagued with demons and the walking dead."

"What do you know of this... wanderer?"

"Very little, I am afraid. I arrived after he was gone, and found the Rogues here. You should speak to the head of their order, Akara. She'll be able to tell you more."

"I would be able to tell him as much," a tall, red-haired woman in armor said, "if I thought it would do any good. I am Kashya. Akara may be the head of our order, but know that I lead the Rogues in battle. And I'm not easily impressed by swords and promises."

Though he had a sword, Thaddeus could not remember making any promises. Perhaps his presence was enough of one; clearly, here were people in need. "While I cannot make any promises, my sword is yours. My purpose for journeying here was to safeguard some holy relics, but instead of finding a haven, it seems to me that I have stumbled into the center of a demonic invasion. Forgive me, but I must go and speak with the head of your order now."

Near a corner of the encampment, a scrap of canvas supported by one pole protected a pile of potion bottles, staves, scrolls, and books, both religious and secular. Outside of this miserable shelter, the priestess Akara stood, slowly pacing to and fro. Her cloak and hood were soaked with rain; she had obviously not sought shelter from the downpour. Such a picture of dejection could only provoke pity, which was made worse when Thaddeus saw how her hood had been pulled far down over her face. She was clearly blind.

"Abbess Akara, I bring you greetings."

"Come closer, and be recognized, noble warrior. Ah, I see you bring artifacts of great power with you."

Thaddeus was amazed. The relics he carried were carefully packed away, where the eyes of thieves could not find them. "Yes, lady. I came here to bring them to a place of safety, which I see this is no longer."

"Indeed, it is not. Is there any place of safety in the world anymore, I wonder? The Eye sees none. Our monastery was lost a short while ago, and I have led my sisters out into the wilderness, where I can offer you but poor shelter within these rickety walls. Our sisterhood has been struck by a strange, corrupting plague: many have been suddenly turned to evil by a clearly demonic influence. How this came to be, I do not know, but they attack us daily, and none may move about outside in safety."

"Members of your own order?" Both amazed and alarmed, Thaddeus asked, "How could this be? You could not have abandoned the worship of the Light."

"I cannot explain it, but it has torn our hearts out, all of us. Those who weeks ago were peaceful, friendly comrades in arms, are now mindless things driven by bloodlust. They consort with demons, and have been raising the dead from the local villages, possibly even from our own blessed graveyards. The power of this evil seems limitless."

"The shadow is always limited where light is present, milady. Please, since safety there is none, we must take up arms and strike out against the enemy. Tell me how I may assist you, what I must do to drive back the darkness."

"Some great evil has taken our monastery from us. It came very suddenly, as poison and blood came welling up from beneath our own cathedral! Soon the whole monastery was full of choking clouds, hideous demons, and the undead. To our horror, many of our sisters joined them in joyful slaughter. What is left of our order is here. A few stragglers come in from time to time, but too many others have been found dead by Kashya's scouts. We need to find out what evil has taken our monastery and our order from us, and destroy it."

Thaddeus knelt before her. "It will be my only thought until I have succeeded, or perished. My suspicion is that such an evil can only be one of The Three Brothers, the Greater Evils."

"That has crossed my mind as well," Akara said, "and while your words are comforting, I fear we are lost. We have reports that a cotillion of demons, led by a fierce zombie lord, are gathering a force in a nearby cave, to crush our encampment upon the morrow. Their numbers are great, too great for us to fight. To insure the survival of the order, we must abandon this camp, and flee far away from harm."

"If I could move against this force, the risk to my life would mean little. But I must ask you, if I do not return, to look to the safety of the relics I carry now. They are precious things, and will be great aids to the cause of light, in worthier hands than my own."

This made Akara smile, faintly. "After all that has happened, it is difficult for me to find hope in anything. But your words comfort me, acolyte. You do not need to do this."

That surprised Thaddeus. "My lady... I do."

Chapter 2

For his rebellion is as the sin of pride,

Because rejects the teachings of the wiser.

To come with sacrifice and prayer

Is to consecrate the soil, sheep, and oxen.

-- Visions of Akarat, c. 15, v. 22-25

Outside of the Rogue encampment, the fields were sodden with the constant drizzle of rain. While not exactly a wilderness, this was untilled soil, covered with wild grasses, flowers, and only a few trees. The ruts caused by the passage of many wheels, come down through the high pass of the Rogue monastery, were filled with standing water and mud. Though flowers did grow in the fields, something had trampled most of them into the mud. Trees were cut down, and left to rot, nothing good was made from them. Thaddeus had been told much of the subtle signs demons leave, so he could recognize their disguised presence. They made no attempts at subtlety now, not here, in their strength.

The fields held no demons, merely corrupted animals and a few wandering zombies. Quill Rats might once have been porcupines, shy creatures which do not shoot their quills, but after their alteration, they were hostile, hateful, and prolific. The zombies were nothing more nor less than the mortal remains of the recent dead, infected with a demonic spirit. While the spirit is willing, these decayed remains are far from sturdy, and they seem addled by the disintegrating brain. Often, they forget an enemy is present, even while being cut to pieces. Clearing the field was not dangerous, but there was a cave in the middle of the field. This must be where the demons were gathering for their assault.

Evil was strong in the cave, and Thaddeus knew this would not be an easy battle. Before entering, he bowed his head in prayer, and considered the ritual of sacrifice, anointing his blade with his own blood. The ritual was an old one, older than Akarat's prophesies that were the foundation of Zakarum; many argued that such a bloody ceremony was not fitting for the church of Light. It smacked of the older religions, of the energy that could be taken from death and pain, demonism and black magic. The Protectors of the Word teach that the sacrifice of one's own life and body is of a different character than taking it from an innocent. The offering of another is a violation, but offering yourself is a devotion.

Staring at the blade, it occurred to Thaddeus that another important part of the ritual might be the need for courage. In the seminary, it is easy to talk about the nobility of sacrifice, ignoring pain selflessly, just drawing enough blood to anoint one blade. It doesn't seem like much, but it is very difficult to actually do. There in the field, when you must deliberately injure yourself, and know it will hurt... Thaddeus was no more fond of pain than anyone else. He'd never done it before, and while part of his mind knew he should, to protect the Rogues, another part quailed at actually bringing his blade to his own flesh.

All the arguments went through his mind. The body is merely a vessel for the soul, the light's blessings will close up the wound, pain is nothing to the devoted, the needs of others must be paramount, and on and on. Twice, he brought the blade to his shoulder, and twice put it down; when he had to drive it in, his strength left him, his belly quivered with fear. Maybe it won't be so bad in there, part of him thought. Maybe I won't need a sacrifice to conquer the beasts in the cave. Surely, serving the light, the word, and my fellow human beings does not require me to shed my own blood in some archaic ritual!

All of a sudden, Thaddeus understood. He was to be a warrior of the light, and must place himself in far greater danger than this if he was to serve. If his suspicions were correct, one of The Three was here, sending demons out over the countryside. And if his courage failed him over such a trivial thing... how could it stand if he was facing the Lord of Terror himself? Staring at the blade, Thaddeus knew the ritual of sacrifice was not an offering of blood; what need had the Light for blood? Sacrifice was an act of courage, conquering the terror within. Any warrior would need to face fear; even one who wished the blessing of the Light could not be excepted.

Calmly, a prayer in his mind, Thaddeus drew his blade to himself a third time, and a trickle of blood washed over the steel. It did hurt, a lot; pain always seems worse when you know its coming. The blood on his sword congealed almost instantly, and a throb of power seemed to warm its length; it almost felt like an echo of his heart was in his hand. After it was over, it wasn't nearly as bad as Thaddeus had feared. He almost laughed at his nervousness, and resolved never to fear anything again. Fear really does eat at a warrior's heart, and if he was to be a warrior, he could never allow it into his heart again.

Inside the cave, Thaddeus met his first actual demons. Fallen are small, impish things, with red skin and sharp horns -- exactly what demons are pictured to look like, except that they are tiny, weak, cowardly and pathetic. Some depictions of the infernal make the enemy of man out to be merely misunderstood, rebels of grand poetry scoffing at the intolerant heavens, which could not control them, and therefore cast them down. There was nothing grand or poetic about these creatures, very little that might lend itself to the illusion that evil was liberating. Killing them brought out much the same emotions as crushing a particularly nasty bug. More powerful Fallen, dressed like primitive shamans, would resummon their brethren, so Thaddeus learned it was best to kill them first.

Many creatures had been marshaled in the caves: the Fallen, a great many Zombies, and hairy, man-like beasts from the mountains. They were supposed to be peaceful creatures, timid and rarely seen, but now their eyes were full of empty hate. They attacked slowly, but without mercy, and took many blows to kill. In the rear of the cave, Thaddeus found the Zombie lord who must be leading these demons; at least, he was the most powerful creature in the cave. Maybe the spirit moving the rotting flesh was a particularly nasty one, but its rotting brain could not possibly be of much use to it. Twice, while Thaddeus was striking its followers down, the Zombie wandered off to another part of the cave, and he had to go and find it again. When the last of the creatures had been exterminated, the air of the cave seemed to clear. Thaddeus bowed his head in prayer, thanking the Light for granting him the resolve to do what had to be done.

By the time he returned to the Rogue encampment, all the injuries he received in the caves had healed, thanks to his prayers to the Light. Word of his deeds seemed to have preceded him; Kashya must have sent one or two of her Rogue scouts to follow him, though he hadn't noticed them while he was there. Akara was especially pleased.

"Your return is a joy to me. This victory, though it may seem small, has given us all hope, and may restore my faith in humanity. While you were gone, I took the liberty of examining the relics you brought with you. I hope you do not mind."
"Not at all, prioress," Thaddeus said. "I had hoped you would. When I came, it was to bring these to your monastery, and ask after one of my order, who was with you."
"Yes. I have not seen Ahlus since that fateful day when we were forced out. I fear she has fallen, along with many others. Which brings me to the relics. Normally, these things would be stored in a place of reverence, but with the situation we are in, that is not possible or advisable."
"The disposition of the relics is a great concern. There is nowhere safe for them?"
"They should not be kept safe," Akara said, bringing the scepter Knell Striker from its case of polished wood. "These things are weapons, first and foremost. They were meant to be used, not kept safe in a box. I think you should take up the scepter, and use it."
"No, please, lady," Thaddeus stammered. "I am an acolyte, not even indoctrinated into the order of Protectors. A worthier hand than mine should bear the scepter."
"Whose hand, then? A great darkness has fallen over the land; I cannot believe that these things have not come to us for a reason. We must take back our monastery, and you are the only one of your order who is near. I cannot believe there is no reason for that, either."
"But I have not even completed my seminal studies... the Knell Striker is of such holiness, I should not even touch it!"
"If you doubt your worthiness, then we shall let the scepter decide itself."
Akara closed the lid of Knell Striker's case, and set the scepter down. The rain beaded on the oiled wood, and as Thaddeus watched, the scepter slowly turned of its own accord, until the haft pointed directly at him. "Take it up, Paladin. It has chosen."
Knell Striker was heavy in Thaddeus' hand, the iron knobs on its head polished bright. The power in it was awesome, it felt ready to leap and crush down anything in its path. "Thank you, great lady Akara. I do not know what to say."
"Then say nothing. But you may want to visit our blacksmith. While you do not seem to be injured, your armor is desperately in need of repair. Curious, that."

Thaddeus left, wondering if lady Akara really was blind. Perhaps the Sightless Eye had gifted her with knowledge far beyond anything he knew. For her part, Akara dropped the thread she had looped around a knob on Knell Striker's head. A slow pull on the loop had been enough to turn the scepter, but there was no need for the boy to know that.

At the northern end of camp, among the merchant wagons, Thaddeus found the Rogue's blacksmith. She was, as you might expect, a woman, but quite a large one, with very blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

"Hi there!" she bubbled, "I'm Charsi. You must be the new warrior in camp!"
"There is no other who I have heard from, so yes, I must be. I am Thaddeus. You have many weapons and things for sale, I see."
"Oh, sure! That's a pretty sad looking set you've got there. Thinking of trading up?"
"I've a sword for sale... and perhaps some of your studded leather and a pot helm. This coat has served me well, but something stronger might be necessary."
"Yeah... what's with all these scratches on the left shoulder?"
"Ah... nothing. Have you any lances here?"
"Nope, none of the big stuff. It's really hard to get supplies here, and all my best tools are back in the monastery. Wish I could get you something, though... maybe a spear?"
Looking at Knell Striker, Thaddeus shook his head. "Perhaps I should not. Though I am not completely sure what I ought to be doing."
"Hey! I just thought of something." Charsi smiled. "If you want the best stuff, go see Gheed, right over there. He's great, he's got a lot of funny stories and knows a lot about all kinds of things! He's been to Lut Gholein, and Kingsport, and the Amazon islands, all over!"
"Thank you, I shall," Thaddeus smiled. Charsi seemed like a nice girl; a bit silly, perhaps, but it was good to see that someone could still smile after all these people had suffered. Gheed also could smile, but Thaddeus liked his smile much less.
"Hello there! I'm Gheed, and I can already tell I'm going to be your best friend in this whole camp. If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask! All I ask in exchange is a bit of gold, a small gem, things that would be useless to a holy man such as yourself. The taint of material wealth is the downfall of humanity, that's what I always say!"
Try as he might, Thaddeus could not believe Gheed would ever say that, even though he'd just heard it from his own lips. Zakarum preaches charity towards all; he should not assume the worst of someone on their first meeting. Nonetheless, avarice hung about Gheed like a cloak proudly worn, and despite all his teachings, Thaddeus could not find it in him to think well of him. "Wealth is not a destroyer of virtue; the love of wealth is humanity's downfall. In itself, money is no more than a means to an end. The goal towards which it goes depends on the one who is putting it to use."
"My sentiments exactly," Gheed grinned. "I hate those who think of nothing but money! A drain on our spiritual strength and resolve. If only others saw things as I do."
Thaddeus smiled. "You must be offering exceptionally low prices for your wares. As the need is so great, who could do any less?"
"Not so fast! Heh heh heh. May I interest you in this fine sword of triumphant virtue? I guarantee its performance for life!"
"My life, or the sword's?"
"The two will be the same, of course! Perhaps a helm, then? It comes with a back plate! Those pesky little devils might try to sneak up behind you."
While Gheed's wares were beyond reproach, as far as Thaddeus could tell, he felt no overwhelming need to give him any business. In fact, he wondered how Gheed could get any business at all, he seemed so untrustworthy. Either he sold only to the unwise, or he had some other, less savory line of business to make him his real money. Feeling that virtuous behavior should be its own reward, Thaddeus bid him good day, and returned to the field. Walking to the Rogue's monastery, fighting demons every step of the way, was going to take a long time, so it was only sensible to start off as early as possible.

Chapter 3

They poured out innocent blood, and abhorred their heritage. The land was polluted, made unclean by their acts. Thus, they became unclean by their acts, And played the harlot for those who ruled over them. But the covenants were remembered. With mighty arms Twice ten-thousand chariots rode upon them.

    -- The Book of Radenis, c. 36, v. 39-44

On his way out of the camp, Thaddeus was accosted by Kashya. "My scouts have reported an abomination in our monastery's graveyard! Our own dead are being pulled from their graves and raised with demonic magics!"

"Yes, the dead have been raised, many of them."
"This is different," Kashya snarled. "They are not content with the bodies of peasants and foreigners, the demons are defiling the holy ground of our own order! The blessed earth has been violated... and by my own sister in battle, Blood Raven."
Calmly, Thaddeus said, "One body or another makes little difference to the infernal spirit, once the soul is gone. Few are so holy that even their dead flesh resists dark influences. But tell me, what is a Blood Raven?"
Kashya glared at Thaddeus, then snorted. "Her name is, or was, Rabina. She was a priestess in our monastery, and my closest friend. We always called her Blood Raven for her indomitable spirit. I never imagined she could fall to the demons. Not only has she fallen, she is the one in the graveyard, raising a new cohort of undead for them!"
Thaddeus nodded, considering this. "You found in her a kindred spirit, then."
"Yes," Kashya said, a nervous blink breaking her intense gaze for a moment. "We were very much alike. I do not know why she fell, or how she could fall so far. But this violation cannot be allowed to continue. She must be stopped. She must be killed."
"I agree, she must be stopped. Every moment that passes, a new soldier of darkness is raised. Where is the graveyard?"
"Some five hundred yards from here, and to the west, is a small plateau on top of a hill. You will see two tall mausoleums, dedicated to the earliest leaders of the sisterhood. She is there, engaged in foul sorceries, but know that she is strong and quick of body as well. I was never able to best her in any contest of arms."
Thaddeus nodded. "I will do all I can. What else could I do?"
Kashya crossed her arms, her lip curled in a sneer. "You could run."
"No, I could not," Thaddeus looked to the west. "Excuse me now."

The conversation left Thaddeus worried, and wondering. Not about this corrupted priestess; he was sure she would be fierce and difficult to stop, but that did not worry him. Kashya was not upset about Zombies being raised, only that they were being raised from among the Rogues' dead. There were other graveyards, obviously - many of them, to judge from the numbers of animated dead - but their violation did not seem to concern her. Her friendship with this "Blood Raven" might also be cause for alarm. What sort of person would want to be called such a thing? Troubling speculations leapt to his mind, but he tried to dismiss them. After all, he knew little of Kashya, and it would not do to judge her too hastily.

The ground turned rocky as Thaddeus moved deeper into the wilderness. The hills rose on either side of the field, and would soon turn to mountains as he approached the pass and the monastery that sat across it. A fence had been strung between the hills, and at a gap, a single Rogue stood guard.

"Greetings, I am Thaddeus. What is this place, I wonder?"
The Rogue gave him a dubious look. "Hi, I'm Flavie. This... is a fence."
An accurate answer, but not an informative one. Thaddeus began to feel a little irritated. The day was not starting well. "Why was a fence built here?"
"Crowd control. This is the only pass through these mountains, you know. A lot of people come through some months, and we don't want them wandering all over destroying things."
"I do not quite understand."
"Lots of people go through the pass. Or did, when it was open. Right?"
Frowning a bit, Thaddeus nodded. "So I have heard."
"Right. There are inns and taverns strung out up to the monastery, right?"
"Ah, that I did not know. Each tavern owner owns the land within his fences?"
"No, we own the land. But they are responsible for any drunken sots who do something they shouldn't near their watering hole. If the damage is on their side of the fence, they have to pay a fine. Keeps them from dispensing too much ale."
"An unfortunate necessity of peacetime, then. I thought this fence was too open to serve a defensive purpose."
"You thought right. What are you doing here?"
Thaddeus rubbed at his temples. This Flavie seemed to admire Kashya enough to emulate her approach to interpersonal relations. "I am going to the monastery. Tell me, is there a graveyard near here?"
From the look on her face, Flavie's opinion of Thaddeus' intelligence did not improve with that pronouncement. "There is mortal danger for the likes of you out there. Our corrupted sisters are not to be trifled with. What's wrong?"
"Just a slight headache. You do not seem afraid to be here alone."
"I'm a lookout, I'm under orders to run and warn everyone if they approach. You're a Paladin, right? You're not supposed to run from anything."
"The Protectors of the Word are not required to fight on when all hope is lost. Our order frowns on suicide. I would appreciate knowing the location of a graveyard, which should be a short distance from here."
"It's on that hill," Flavie said, pointing. "The quickest way to get there is to follow the fencing around to the left."
"Thank you. Do commend yourself to Kashya. You are performing your duties exactly as I believe she would herself."

The land beyond Flavie's watch point grew rockier, and bare in large patches. No flowers were left here. In the distance, Thaddeus could see a large building. It was on fire, smoke pouring out in the light rain. As Thaddeus moved forward, a group of people ran towards him... women, with axes and clubs. Once he got a good look at them, he realized they were almost entirely naked. Strange green and black growths had erupted from their skin, especially along their legs and feet; their breasts were bare, and their eyes empty of all but demonic rage. These had to be corrupted Rogue sisters, but why didn't they have bows? Judging from the look in their eyes, they might have forgotten how to use them.

Thaddeus stood his ground and awaited their approach. There was no sense of tactics to their attack, or even an awareness of self-preservation; they shrieked and dove straight for him, bashing at his shield when he put it up. Thaddeus retreated in a small circle so they couldn't surround him, but never once did they try to head him off, or attack his back. All he had to do was put his shield in their faces, and they hammered away at it without thought or reason. It was frightening and pathetic all at once, how a human being could be reduced to something like this. How had this happened? What could have done this? Demons can seek out weaknesses in a person's soul, but these poor women seemed almost soulless.

Pity welled up in Thaddeus' heart. Somehow, he had to find a way to free them. Exorcism might work, but the ritual of exorcism is time-consuming. And he couldn't possibly capture all of these women and take them back to camp for the ritual anyway. Whispering a prayer, he raised Knell Striker, and brought it down on the head of the nearest Rogue. The skull caved in like a rotten melon, and with a gurgling scream, a vaporous spirit rose and dissipated out of the body. She dropped to the ground, gushing blood, very dead. Knell Striker was indeed a powerful weapon. Either that, or the Rogue's flesh and bones weakened as the spirit within twisted them into a shape more to its liking. The next one, Thaddeus didn't hit as hard, and she fell intact, incapacitated but alive.

Of the bunch, Thaddeus was able to keep two alive, and returned to the Rogue camp with them over his shoulders. They didn't even look peaceful when they were unconscious; they kept snapping and biting, their bloody raw fingers clawing as the demons inside them tried to get the body moving again. Akara had them tied to fence posts, and began the exorcism. Back out in the cold plains, Thaddeus met a few more Rogues, and tried to keep as many alive as he could. The demons he slaughtered without remorse. There were many more demons than Rogues, thankfully, all red and fiery except one. That one was poisonous green and attended by a crowd of shamans; obviously a demon of importance, so he killed it first.

Along the western side of the field, Thaddeus found a side path which lead to the hill. From this short distance, he could see the iron fence which surrounded the hilltop, and the nearest of the mausolea. A few Skeletons were wandering down the path towards him. Thaddeus met them, and smashed them to bone splinters. By now, Thaddeus had brought back seven corrupted Rogues. Before he entered the graveyard, he returned to camp to see if anything was coming of the exorcisms. He was glad to see a young woman he recognized, wrapped in a blanket and sitting by the fire. At Akara's, two more corrupted Rogues were left; the others he did not see.

Before Thaddeus could approach the girl, Warriv intercepted him, and spoke in a hushed voice. "I... think it might be a good idea if you left this one alone for a bit."
"What is wrong?" Thaddeus asked.
"Well..." Warriv scratched his beard. "I think she was aware of... she knows what she was doing. It is a terrible thing."
"Hello," Thaddeus said, kneeling next to the girl. She did not respond.
Clearing his throat, Warriv patted Thaddeus on the shoulder. "Kashya has already been speaking with her, at great length. You do not need to say anything more."
"No, I am not angry. I want to know if there is hope." Placing a hand on the girl's shoulder, Thaddeus said, "I'm sorry I hit you. I was afraid. What is your name?"
"You should hit me," she numbly answered. "I wanted to hit you."
"You don't even know me. Did you want to hit everyone?"
"Everything."
Thaddeus looked down at her hands. They were moving under the blanket, pulling at her legs. Her feet were raw and bloody where he could see them; all the strange growths had been pulled off, and took the skin with them. "What did you think?"
She was silent for a long time. Then, "I couldn't think. I just felt."
"I think the demon told you what you felt. It wasn't you. You were not in your mind." Quietly, Thaddeus listened to the tearing sounds under the blanket. He wasn't sure if he should get her to stop. Those growths looked hideous. "You were not in your mind."
"I killed my best friend," the girl sobbed, curling up even further. "I cut her heart out in her bed and took a bite out of it!"
"It was not you," Thaddeus repeated. "What did the demon make you feel?"
"Powerful," she immediately said. "I felt like I did when I came back from Tristram."
"Tristram?"
"A bunch of us went there, when Diablo was there."
"Tristram is a farming town southwest of here," Warriv said. "There are rumors that the Lord of Terror returned to the world there, and many went to do battle with him."
That was a great surprise for Thaddeus. The Protectors of the Word were unaware of that, he was certain. It is true, they were spread thin across the west... but how such a thing could happen, without anyone in the order hearing of it, was inconceivable. "What happened to you, in Tristram?"
"There was something in the church. They had a bishop. He disappeared. Some of us went in after him. The church was big, really deep. I kind of wondered about that."
"What do you mean?" Thaddeus asked.
"It was, like, this little town, with a huge cathedral, and deep catacombs, and caves underneath it. I didn't go any deeper than that, but I think it went deeper."
A cathedral in a small town is an odd thing. "Did you keep anything from there?"
"Yes. I found a powerful suit of ring mail."
"Did you all find items of power there?"
"There was a lot of magic stuff in there."
A cathedral where it should not be, full of tempting objects, and the Protectors were kept from hearing of it. This stank of something rotten, but there would be no time to travel to Tristram and investigate. "I must go speak with Akara. Young girl?"
She smiled, a little. "I'm Avilli."
"You rest, and please, stop tearing those things off. They will fall off on their own, and will bleed much less if you let them."
"Thank you."

Kashya was with Akara, who was exhorting a demon to leave the last of the living corrupted Rogues. It was laughing, snarling a few coherent words, and spitting with impotent rage. As Thaddeus watched, he could see the exorcism was not working. Akara was exhausted, and stopped, stumbling over to sit on the wall next to her tent. "Greetings, Paladin. Please, sit with me for a while."

Thaddeus did as he was asked. "The spirit seems... unyielding."
"I do not know why," Akara said. "When I think it is gone, it returns. It is as though it has bound itself into her body in a way beyond my reach."
"You have had one success, prioress... how was she different?"
Akara thought for a while. "It is a mystery to me. This has been very tiring, in mind and body, and I cannot be certain I have accomplished anything."
Thaddeus smiled. "One soul is free."
"And we all may die in the morning." Akara sighed. "Even if the monastery is liberated, I fear for our sisterhood. What is to become of them, and of us?"
"I cannot answer, prioress." Thaddeus bowed his head. "The first strike of evil is always terrible, and leaves a deep wound. It comes from hiding, and may seem strong. But once good people have armed themselves, the power of evil dissipates. They fall to squabbling among themselves, or greedy looting... or perhaps their courage simply leaves them when faced with a determined foe."
"I only hope that nothing worse will happen," Akara said. "Your words comfort me. Tell me, where have you found yourself, and what is there?"
"I was outside your monastery's graveyard. Kashya told me of a corrupted priestess there, but I did not want to move against her, until I knew whether there might be hope for her."
Akara looked up, to where Kashya was taking away the body of the last corrupted Rogue. "Hope... these ones you returned to us were filled with nothing but anger. Rabina is actively participating in her own corruption. I fear I could do nothing for her now."

As he approached the graveyard fence, Thaddeus found more Skeletons and Zombies, either wandering aimlessly or staring into space, in the way of the lesser undead. Quietly, he lured them away in groups, then destroyed them. He could faintly hear the sound of digging in the graveyard; Blood Raven was there, but there was no need to alert her while she still had an army to use. When he was satisfied that there he was no more he could do outside the fence, he ventured in. Blood Raven was a tall, fiery Rogue, still wearing scraps of chainmail and bearing a recurved long bow. Two horns had grown at least four inches from her skull, and her fang-filled jaws extended like an animal's.

"My army will destroy you!" Her voice was still clear, at least. The Zombies stopped digging and shambled to the attack. Blood Raven dashed atop a high tombstone, and quickly fired an arrow, which burst into flame in mid-flight. It shattered in a fiery burst on Thaddeus' shield, and stung a bit. He wondered if the other Rogues could do that.

  "Your army is nothing to me.  Stop what you are doing, this is madness."
  "This is power!  This is revenge!  This is death!  Join my army of the dead!"

Methodically, Thaddeus smashed each of Blood Raven's Zombies down. She raised new ones from fresh bodies, in between shooting at him. With Knell Striker in his hand, her army really was no threat for him, and she herself wasn't making much of a dent in his armor. One last time, he tried to appeal to her.

  "Rabina!  This brings you no power.  No one hates you.  There is no point to this.  You have been deceived.  Think of what you are doing!"
  "Rrrrrahh!"  Gnashing her teeth, she fired arrow after arrow at him.  Sadly, Thaddeus ran after her, jumping over the fallen tombstones as she darted lightly away from him.  After much maneuvering, he got her into a corner, and as she continued to madly fire, stunned her with a blow from his shield before beating her to a pulp.  There was no other way.

Blood Raven's body burst open, and lightning arced into the iron graveyard fence. Finally, a ghostly humanoid shape flashed up into the sky, and her empty shell of a body collapsed to the ground. Looking around, Thaddeus saw the graveyard had been invaded before. Three dead Rogues were hanging from the willow tree in the center; perhaps they weren't "ripe" enough to make into Zombies yet. Kashya was amazed that Thaddeus had defeated Blood Raven, yet wasn't greatly injured. She even offered the service of one of her Rogues, to accompany Thaddeus into the field.

  "I'm afraid I cannot accept that," Thaddeus said.  "Your women are needed here, I could not conscienceably place one in danger."
  "My warriors are strong," Kashya said.  "I have trained them myself to work together, and the beasts will be more dangerous the closer you go to the monastery.  Even you will need someone to watch your back."
  "Their strength is not an issue.  So few have survived, I could not allow more to be lost unnecessarily.  This battle will be won, but without your sisters, the peace that comes after would be lost.  You must be able to hold your monastery once it is taken."
  "Then you will need more than a weapon," Akara said, as she glided over to the fire.  "Your shield may be faith, but a more material one could not possibly hurt.  I believe you must take up the other half of your gift.  Since we cannot keep them safe, they should keep you."

The Umbral Disk was light as a feather, quicker than any piece of iron should be. The light within it hummed like a single note, and the blue gem in its center sparkled with unearthly luminescence. Arguing with Akara's wisdom was fruitless. Her vision was indeed great. "It is clear to me," she said, "that we need guidance from one wiser than myself. Perhaps that one can answer the many mysteries we have been confronted with. There is no one in this part of the world wiser than Deckard Cain, the last sage of the Horadrim. But he was, when last I heard, living a quiet life in Tristram. There seems little hope that he is still alive."

Chapter 4

I am the man that has seen affliction Burning the foundations of the mountains. Our enemy has stretched out his hands Over all our precious things. Fear Has defiled the kings of the earth.

    -- Visions of Akarat, c. 87, v. 1-5

After having his equipment cleaned and repaired, Thaddeus resumed his trek towards the monastery. Moving up the mountains, a series of switchbacks allow wagons to ascend or descend safely. Travelers on foot did not have to walk back and forth all the way up to the pass, however; an underground passage had been built through a series of natural caves, allowing rapid ascent. Many travelers skipped the passage, as the taverns along the pass were well known for their hospitality.

The closer Thaddeus got to the monastery, the more corrupted Rogues he found. They were still outnumbered by the demons and undead, but their growing numbers were disheartening. The changes in their bodies had gotten worse too. Many had horns, long teeth, or the beginnings of tails. Not all bore axes or spears anymore -- there were archers, with a look of crafty awareness in their eyes. They also wore more clothing; mostly the high boots Rogues favor, or a padded leather jerkin cut off to expose the breasts and midriff. This preference for displaying their womanly charms continually mystified Thaddeus. The first few were a shock and a distraction, perhaps, but any gains it gave them were far outweighed by the loss of protection.

Using the Umbral Disk, Thaddeus could blind an enemy by willing a burst of light to blaze out of the shield's central gem; this made capturing Rogues much easier. He brought a few back to camp, but Akara could do nothing for them. The exorcisms exhausted her and produced very little by way of results, so Thaddeus eventually stopped bringing Rogues back. He could do nothing for them but crush their bodies and send them to whatever reward was most fitting. Still... he was sure there had to be a way. Stalking the fields, he turned the problem over and over in his mind, wondering what strange new technique the demons could be using to resist the rituals of exorcism. Knowing what demon lord was responsible could help; each has known habits and weaknesses that might be exploited.

While in camp, Thaddeus stopped to talk with Warriv. "I do not suppose you have been in the deserts east of the pass recently?"
"Not for a few months. Are you worried about what might lie on the other side of the mountains?"
"Partially, but the monastery and these poor corrupted women concern me now. It occurs to me, some of the demon lords have a weakness for the defilement of women's bodies. The demon lord Baal in particular is fond of it; he is purported to keep an army of female demons on hand to satisfy his depravities."
"I know nothing of that, my friend! Demons and kings are things best avoided, to my way of thinking. Well... the king will only invite you to dinner, but you risk getting hit on the nose by the cherry pits."
Thaddeus thought about that for a moment, then laughed. "You speak from experience?"
"Much experience! It is good to be close to kings, but not too close. The closer to the king, the closer to the gallows. What does this demon lord you are thinking of have to do with us? You said the Lord of Terror was imprisoned here in the west."
"His brother Baal was imprisoned in the deserts near Lut Gholein, on the other side of the Rogue's pass. I wonder if things I have seen here do not bear his imprint. He, I think, would want the Rogues to wander about as they are, and change their bodies to suit him."
"That's an unpleasant thought. Two of the Three would be terrible indeed."
"Yes. So, if you had seen anything like this when you were crossing the desert..."
"I assure you, no. Let us not think things any worse than they must be. If I am to die, I will be happier not knowing what awaits me." Then Warriv laughed. "I made a rhyme! The last line is a bit long... hmm, let me think on that a while."
"Many new proverbs will be born in these times," Thaddeus smiled.
"Like cold water to the thirsty, or good news from a far land. I am sure we will hear some good news soon."
"From who?" Thaddeus asked.
Warriv snorted with laughter. "From you! You're not that thick-headed, are you?"
"Oh! Well, I intend to bring some, when I can."
"I know you will. We all have hope. I just hope it will be soon."

As Thaddeus explored, he came across a ring of five standing stones, with a heel stone close to the circle. A little blue demon and its cohort guarded them. That was a painful fight, his most painful yet; every time he struck the demon, lightning sparked from its body, causing great pain. The demon itself was no great threat at all. A few smashes from the Umbral Disk quieted it. After killing it, its minions fled as quick as their trembling legs could carry them. The worst thing about true demons, Thaddeus decided, was chasing them down after they run away. The standing stones, Akara told him, were a gateway the Rogues used to use to travel to distant locations. Touching the five stones in a certain order would open a gate, and several destinations had been ensorceled into the ring in days of yore.

The ring was important, because Akara wanted Thaddeus to go to Tristram, in the hope that Deckard Cain might still be alive. One of the ring's destinations was Tristram. Unfortunately, no one in camp could remember which combination opened the right gate. The Horadrim had built waypoints in many parts of the world, so the older gates were not used very often, and much had been forgotten about them. The correct combinations were recorded in the monastery's library, but Thaddeus might not need to go that far. Through the underground passage, there was a fenced-off field overseen by the Inifuss family. Outside their inn was a huge dead tree, which served as a sort of community message post. Over time, many people had carved names, dates, obscenities, and the like into it; among the older inscriptions, high on the tree, Kashya was sure at least one combination for the ring was mentioned.

The entrance to the underground passage was very near the stone ring. The passage itself was full of monsters, including demons who were not quite as cowardly as the Fallen Ones. These were the Tainted Ones, another set of nameless minor demons that hide in dark places and scurry away when challenged. Having huge, weighty heads and short, weak limbs, they don't scurry very well, but can do harm at range. From their energized guts, they can spit a ball of lightning, which makes them a minor sort of threat, if you're slow enough to let them gain any distance. After smashing a few, Thaddeus wondered who could possibly be so slow that these things would be dangerous. A feeble older person, perhaps, or a very young child might be this beast's preferred prey.

On the other side of the passageway, Inifuss's inn was a blazing ruin packed with Fallen Ones. The stables were inhabited by Rogues, Skeletons, and still more Fallen Ones. The dark woods beyond the light of the burning inn were filled with even more Fallen Ones. They hid behind trees, dropped rocks from the branches, or just tried to set the woods on fire while Thaddeus was among them. If the trials a man must undergo are the driving force in shaping his will, Thaddeus knew he'd come to hate the little bastards. Being attacked by Fallen Ones is like being nibbled to death by ducks, only the ducks are braver. Finally, he worked his way around to the other side of the inn, where the tree of Inifuss stood.

A group of huge brutes guarded the tree. Their leader was terribly strong and quick, but Thaddeus stood his ground and blinded his minions with bursts of radiance from the Umbral Disk. The leader seemed resistant to this, but without the others, he fell quickly. Looking over the tree, Thaddeus saw much of the paper that had been nailed to it was burnt away. Some writing had been carved into the wood itself, and high up near the branches, he saw a few drawings of the stone ring, with directions. But the writing was archaic, using names of towns Thaddeus was not familiar with. Was Tristram even represented? Standing a bench on its end, he climbed up and carefully copied all the writing for Akara.

It turned out that in the days of yore, Tristram went by a different name. When a local king moved his seat of government there, he renamed it Tristram. The combination was on the tree, and armed with the knowledge, Thaddeus immediately took the waypoint back to the stone circle. After touching the 5 ring stones, the sky went dark, and heaven's power struck down at the heel stone. Chains of lightning arced among the ring stones, and though he did not fear the heavens' power, Thaddeus stepped back out of the ring, so awesome was the sight. A web of power leapt from stone to stone, and as five identical lightning bolts leapt skyward from the stones, a red gate appeared in the center of the ring.

After giving thanks to the Light for guidance, Thaddeus stepped through the gate, and found himself outside a small town. Smoke and the stench of death filled the air. The demons had not even spared the beasts of the field: a cow lay nearby, its belly swollen with rot, a huge gash through its skull telling that its death had not been quiet. Every building was a burning mess, and bodies lay exposed in the fields, full of arrows and defiled countless times. A huge group of Fallen Ones and Skeleton archers greeted Thaddeus as he approached the town. Never having known that Skeletons could be intelligent enough to use bows, he decided to retreat, and let them come to him, before he heard a cry for help.

Entering the square, Thaddeus saw two separate groups of Fallen, a crowd of Goatman clan champions, another Skeleton archer group (led by a spectral one) and a cohort of Skeletons wielding scythes. Near a fountain in the center of town, an iron cage was hanging from a spar, with a man inside. Fighting so many in such an open area would not be wise, but if he ran, the monsters might kill that man. His only hope would be to distract all their wrath to himself, and hope he could survive it.

First, Thaddeus ran towards the Goatmen. They were nearest, and probably the most dangerous. Quick use of the Umbral Disk blinded them for a few seconds; then he ran to the archers. The cage was high enough that the Fallen Ones were no threat to the imprisoned man, unless their shamans decided to roast him, but that was unlikely. While smashing the Skeleton archers, Thaddeus looked beyond them, and saw the biggest Zombie he had ever seen slowly plodding towards him. He must have been a smith or something in life.

Leaving the last of the archers before the Zombie smith reached him, Thaddeus went back to the Goatmen. By the time the Zombie reached him again, he had killed all of the Goatmen, so he went back around to the archers. As usual, the Fallen Ones were not a concern. Even their shamans were unable to goad any courage out of them, so they just scampered around, squeaking with rage or shrieking with fear, depending on which emotion was strongest at the moment. After killing the shamans, Thaddeus turned to the Zombie. While it took forever to lay down, eventually it dropped with a sigh, and Thaddeus cleaned up the last of the Fallen.

Inside the cage was an old man; he looked uninjured. Hopefully, it was the right old man. After lowering the cage, Thaddeus pulled him out and handed him a Portal scroll. "Go if you value your life!" The old man began to stammer his thanks. Thaddeus read the scroll and pushed him through the gate. More Goatmen were coming; better to be rough with him now, and ask forgiveness later.

After searching the town, Thaddeus came to the conclusion that no one else was left alive. The bodies were everywhere, trampled into the dirt repeatedly, burned, stabbed, abused long after their deaths. The destructiveness of demons was well-known to him, and they had obviously been at their work here for a long time. To the northeast of town, the cathedral stood empty; it was too large to have been built for such a small place. The graveyard was completely defiled; every grave was dug up, and two magnificent tombs stood open. One tomb was decorated with bat-winged women; the look of them disturbed Thaddeus. Of the great items which supposedly had been in the cathedral, nothing now remained. That was a shame; Thaddeus had developed an idea that those items were important, somehow. It might have been useful to examine one.

When he returned to the Rogue's camp, Akara gave him a ring from her own hand, and they went to see the old man, Deckard Cain. Cain was exhausted, hungry, and needed water badly, but had recovered most of his strength while Thaddeus explored Tristram. Everyone else in Tristram had been slaughtered, but the demons hardly touched him. He had been forced into the cage, hung in the wind and rain for days, but otherwise ignored. Thaddeus could sense nothing malevolent in or about him, but was still disquieted. Was the old man some sort of Trojan Horse, an unknowing carrier of evil? The Sightless Eye told Akara nothing was out of the ordinary with him, but Thaddeus still wanted answers.

Chapter 5

"Why was I brought from the womb To live only to be carried to the grave?" Then Zophar answered his friend, "Should this mocking babble silence us? Who knows not his span is short, but sweetness And the breath of life must be our joy. Better to plunge yourself into a pit, Than to move beyond what is your gift. It brings no happiness to you or I."

    -- The Book of Haisin, c. 10, v. 21-22, and c. 11, v. 1-7

Slowly, with excruciating detail, Cain described the fall of Tristram, noting particulars about more inconsequential incidents than Thaddeus had any interest in. The old man's memory was absolutely superb, but sifting through the vast stores of information he had in his head could take days. Cain was a collector of information, not a user of it; prioritizing was not a skill he seemed to possess. The thousand irrelevant tangents he eagerly launched into would vex a saint. Among the dross, Thaddeus found, after gentle coaxing and firm discipline on Cain's wagging tongue, the answers to a few of his questions.

Tristram was larger when the cathedral was built, back in the days when it was a king's seat and not a farming town. No, Cain did not know how the Protectors of the Word were kept from hearing of Tristram's plight. Other heroes came, including Rabina and other Rogues. Some never came back out of the ground. Many returned from the dungeons, but then left; their nerve failed them. There were rumors of evil bandits who kept a short distance from Tristram, waylaying all who tried to leave. The heroes were able to enter, and presumably go again, unmolested; the Rogues who returned didn't mention bandits. After Diablo finally was defeated, they celebrated for days... before he left, going to the east. Tristram was destroyed immediately afterwards, like it was no longer needed.

As for the magical artifacts... Cain assumed they had been stored in the cathedral, or buried in the catacombs, or perhaps the demons brought them with them. There were many items, all the heroes were able to collect more than one, including things out of legend... Arkane's Valor, Baranar's Star, Civerb's Cudgel, the Umbral Disk, the Lightsabre.

From where he had been nodding off, Thaddeus suddenly looked up. "The Umbral Disk?"
"Why, yes! I remember the warrior who found it thought it a splendid help to him. The Umbral Disk is a disk or pure, radiant light made solid, kept contained within a shield of black iron. A 40-carat blue crystal, cut in a roundel pattern, set in the center allows..."
"Did that shield resemble this one I bear?"
Blinking, Cain looked at Thaddeus' shield. "Why, yes. How did you come by it?"
"The Umbral Disk has been kept safe in the reliquary of Linkirk Cathedral for the past two centuries. When attack threatened, I brought it here, hoping to find a safe place among the Rogues. Before I brought it there on my quest to find you, it had not been within a hundred miles of Tristram for over 200 years."
The camp was silent, as Cain sat staring at the small shield in confusion. "Well, that must mean... but Boris the warrior said... he was quite specific about its properties and usefulness in the catacombs... But... hmmm. May I see that shield of yours?"
After examining the shield, Cain muttered, "This has been in Linkirk for 200 years, you say? The resemblance is close. There could not be two."
"No, the Umbral Disk is unique, as are all those other great relics. How did they all come to be in one place, under one town, when they are known to be scattered to the far corners of the earth, or even lost in the sea?"
After thinking for a while, Cain slowly nodded. "It does seem a spectacular coincidence... at the time, with so much happening, I did not give it much thought."
"It cannot be accident," Thaddeus said. "I have an idea. But I am not sure. Excuse me, I shall return soon."

Though it was well after midnight, Thaddeus returned to the wilderness. Demons would come creeping down from the monastery, replacing their losses; Thaddeus was hunting for Rogues. After smashing two packs of Fallen Ones and a few skeletons, he found a marsh. There, he found a pack of five corrupted Rogues who were not too twisted; they had kept their hair, and had no horns or tails yet. Three remained alive when Thaddeus subdued them; it was pleasing to note his fighting techniques had improved. As they lay on the ground, twitching and snarling, he relaxed his mind and looked them over. Their spirits were twisted, but each also had a small patch of blackness, an emptiness, in some item on their possession.

The Rogues were not pleased to see him dragging more of their corrupted sisters back to camp. They were even less pleased when he began stripping them even more naked than before. With two of the Rogues, he had sensed something about rings on their hands, almost invisible in the filth. With the third, her helm caught his attention. Nonetheless, the signs were subtle and he had been wrong before; it would be best to get rid of anything that might possibly have come from Tristram.

  Kashya crossed her arms and looked on with disapproval.  "I thought Paladins weren't supposed to go for that sort of stuff."
  "This is not something I enjoy," Thaddeus said, yanking off a boot.
  "Oh?  Would you rather be stripping boys, then?"
  "There are no boys in your order.  Why would I do such a thing?"  After looking them over closely, Thaddeus nodded, satisfied.  "Let us see if this time we are more successful."
  Kashya smirked. "What's on your mind, big guy?"
  "You are behaving very strangely tonight," Thaddeus remarked.  "Cain, do you recognize these items?  You must have examined hundreds, but..."
  "Yes, they are all things from Tristram," Cain nodded.  "This is a ring of light I identified for this young lady, who is named Tahye.  A charming girl, her present condition is a great surprise to me.  Why, when we first met, she said I reminded her of her great uncle --"
  "Yes, thank you.  If Lady Akara could..."

It seemed Akara had guessed his mind, and was already at work on the exorcisms. While she exhorted the demonic spirits possessing her daughter Rogues, Thaddeus sat down with the rings and helm. Quietly, he meditated upon them, opening his inner eye to the lines of the spirit world, which flow for good or ill through all things. These three artifacts had many threads to them, wrapped like nests around a hollow space; perhaps a spirit could rest there, and travel with the item. While with someone, the spirit might examine them, learning by observation their weaknesses and flaws. When the time came, on some signal, the spirits might take advantage of those chinks in that person's spiritual armor, possessing them. And when exorcised... the spirit could flee to the artifact, and hide there, for a while, to return when the body was safe again.

As Thaddeus concentrated on the rings and helm, he became aware that one was now filled, with a small, malevolent spirit. It snapped and thrashed and spat a thousand obscenities, for its former habitation was no longer available to it. The other two filled in short order, and Thaddeus was amused to watch the three demons writhe in their prisons. These things were not artifacts of this world. Somehow, they had been made under Tristram, beautiful little traps to snare the unwary. Is evil ever more seductive than when it seems useful? No one thought to wonder why they were all there, just waiting for someone to come along and pick them up. Even if someone guessed, the temptation to use the darkness' own weapons against it would be very strong.

Returning his mind to the camp, Thaddeus looked around. The three Rogues seemed to be peacefully asleep. Though filthy and bloody, to look at their faces now, no one would think there was ever anything wrong with them. Kashya gave an order that they were to be put to bed, and watched until they awoke. Akara was exhausted but triumphant, as dawn broke the horizon behind her. Realizing how late it was, Thaddeus realized he was very tired; it had been a very long day and night. Besides, Akara could not perform any more exorcisms until she had rested. Sleeping now would give Thaddeus a chance to talk to the Rogues when they woke up, and bring many more home from the wilderness.

Later in the day, when just about everyone was asleep, Gheed woke up. Yawning and scratching himself, he looked around the oddly empty camp, wondering if they'd been invaded and no one bothered to tell him. No, not enough blood on the ground, and nothing on fire that shouldn't be. Charsi was up and about, putting a polish on a shield.

"Hello, my best girl! How's business?"
"Oh, everything's wonderful! Have you heard? The Paladin brought back some more of our sisters, and this time, the exorcism worked!"
Gheed shuddered. "I wish he wouldn't do that. Most of those gals were scary enough before they got demons inside them."
"Hey, that's not a nice thing to say! Don't worry, the demons are out now! Akara thinks they were hiding inside trick magic items. Now that's scary. Who would have thought a ring or something could betray you?"
Gheed chuckled, noting Charsi had been working on the Umbral Disk. "Say that around him, and you'll probably get a sermon on the temptations of power."
"Oh, yeah. You think that was it? I mean, why they fell?"
"As if I care," Gheed muttered, then smiled. "We can't know why, so don't worry about it! Me, I've got enough on my plate without anyone else's problems being served up."
"Um..." Charsi thought a minute. "I guess. I'm just worried about the monastery."
Gheed sighed, casting his gaze heavenwards. "My dear girl... religion is all very well, but you have to remember business is business! Money made the monastery work, all the fees you collected from the pass. What am I going to do with you? I like you. Everyone likes you! When everyone likes you, with a little business savvy, you can make money hand over fist! Akara needs money a lot more than sermons, if you want to do her some good."
"The Paladin seems to do fine without much money."
"He doesn't buy anything, he loots it. Oh, excuse me: liberates it from the infernal hordes, to put to a holy purpose. And he brought better stuff with him than anything you or I have. Real churchly relics; they always keep the best for themselves." Then Gheed thought of something. "Say, why don't you call him by his name? He has one, doesn't he?"
"Oh, yeah, Thaddeus. It's kind of weird to just call him that. He's kind of... I mean, he comes back in, I know he's been fighting, but there isn't a speck of dirt on him!"
Gheed smirked. "Not very accessible?"
"It's weird to just call him a name, you know?"
"You know what I think of him? Boring. B. O. R. I. N. G. Doesn't buy anything, hardly sells anything, gives it all away. Worse businessman than you. Also, he doesn't laugh at any of my jokes. The other day, I told him a great one, and he just stared at me."
"What joke was it?"
"Oh, just a little something between men," Gheed chuckled. "I know you're in a monastery, but mark my words, don't get religious, or you'll have no sense of humor at all and no one will like you. Look at me! Everyone loves ol' Gheed, because I make them laugh!"
Charsi laughed. "Yeah, I guess. Still wish you'd tell me the joke."
Gheed backed away, waving his hands. "Oh, no! Can't let Kashya catch me telling you things like that! I'll be banned from camp or worse."

Back in the marshes, Thaddeus found a few more corrupted Rogues, and took the survivors back to camp. There was also a huge old tower, broken and fallen into decay. This section of the pass didn't have an inn, even though it was fenced off like all the rest. Perhaps the innkeepers didn't want to stay in a marsh (the mosquitoes were annoying) or the land was owned by whoever stayed in the tower. Probably the latter; the remains of foundations told Thaddeus it was once part of a much larger building. Inside, one wall of an empty basement had collapsed, and a strange smell came up from below.

Even without the charnel smell, the feeling of evil was palpable in the cellar. Something was here, stronger than your typical demon, and should be dealt with. Beneath the tower cellar were 5 levels of sub-basements, networks of winding tunnels leading into the earth. Human bones were scattered everywhere, heaped up against the walls, in loops of corridor, even walking around of their own volition. All the bones were tiny, like those of children or youths. In addition to Skeletons, Wraiths and Blood Clan Goatmen abounded; something terrible and painful had happened here, to make so many ghosts. The Blood Clan was a bad sign as well; they often follow after Vampires and other blood-drinkers.

At the deepest level, Thaddeus found a symmetrical set of chambers, laid out like a temple of one of the old religions. A concourse, set with pillars, made the body. Four side branches represented the limbs. The entrance was central, between the legs -- make of that what you will. As he went deeper, Thaddeus was sure the "arm" chambers would be holding the "head" chamber between them, disconnected from the "body." Temples dedicated to blood-letting, the ceremonial severing of the neck, were laid out this way. Sure enough, the "body" ended in a blank wall and a cauldron of boiling blood. The temple was active.

Thaddeus inspected the "legs" first. The Blood Clan was strong here, and there were women archers as well. At first, he thought they were corrupted Rogues, but with a closer look he saw they were much older than that. Though they looked younger than any of the Rogues, their bodies were pale and withered. Their clothing (more than any of the Rogues had) had an antique look to it, and revealed their immature bodies where it was rotten. As archers, they were clearly inferior, but their flesh was much tougher. These, Thaddeus did not bother to save. Their eyes looked empty; clearly, no soul was in residence.

Scattered on the floor of the "legs" was a great deal of treasure; coinage, jewelry, and other small, portable forms of wealth. Weapon racks and several locked chests also yielded up valuables. Deeper into the temple, the "arms" only had a few barrels and a scattering of gold coin. The evil was strong, centered in the head of the temple; Thaddeus approached it cautiously. Sure enough, a group of axe-wielding girls came out as he got near; the axes were a bit of a surprise, he'd heard blood rituals usually involved daggers. After killing them, Thaddeus went into the "head."

A few members of the Blood Clan were there, along with the only grown woman in the place. She was pale and tall, but lacked the "starved" look of the younger girls. And she looked very pleased to see Thaddeus. This one, Thaddeus could tell, was beyond any salvation he could offer, save a swift death. The Goatmen stayed in the back, only coming forward after she was dead. Were they using her for blood, or had she been using them? It really didn't matter, all met the same end, but knowing the tricks demons employ could not hurt. The final chamber of the temple held a vast amount of wealth. Thaddeus had little use for it, but the sisters would be pleased, he was sure.

Chapter 6

When our works are great and honorable, Full of generosity and majesty, Then the work of our hands is trustworthy. Praise endures forever for our kindred And redemption for sins of ages past Is the joyful inheritance of the nation. Wickedness sees the light and is angry. The desire of wickedness come to naught.

    -- Visions of Akarat, c. 55, v. 3-10

Upon his return, everyone was surprised to hear Thaddeus had been in the old tower. It was part of a manor house a long time ago, built by a countess who had fled some persecution in her home country. She attended services in the cathedral regularly, and was generous with her wealth. Perhaps the flow of money she brought with her encouraged the Sisterhood not to question her reasons for fleeing to the Rogues. Whatever the cause, attention focused elsewhere when young girls began disappearing. Despite her outward show of piety, the countess was a worshiper of darkness. Kidnapping the most beautiful girls, she offered their bodies and blood to the darkness in foul rituals, using the dark arts of necromancy to steal their youth and beauty for herself. She even used some girls to obtain other victims, before they themselves were sacrificed. Her activities, judging by the number of bones Thaddeus found, went on for a very, very long time.

From Akara's description, it was obvious after the fact that the countess was not a true worshiper of the Light. She was cruel to her servants, petty and demanding in her dealings with visitors, and derisive towards the monastery, even while making donations. Many had noted the sardonic smile she wore when coming to worship, but others were blinded by the splendor of her gowns and the allure of her face. After her activities came to light, she and her servants were buried in her dark temple, to die amid the bones of their victims. Perhaps she did finally die in there, but it mattered little when the darkness came and the tower burst like an old sore, covered over but never healed.

Leaving Akara, Thaddeus pondered how easy it is to blinded by sinful dealings, how seductive wealth, power, or material rewards can be. Then he caught himself; that was the kind of thinking that led to the Inquisition, the Hand of Zakarum, and the destruction in the east he had been told of. Not all temptations take the form of gold or beautiful faces. Crusading against evil in others, not for their goodness, is another easy trap to fall into. For someone who must keep up a cathedral, or feed barracks full of soldiers, money is very tempting, not out of greed, but because it is so useful. It would not do for Thaddeus to look down on the sisters, if they took money, or looted enchanted items from the dead. After all, he himself was wearing a fine, rare suit of scale mail he had taken from a dead Rogue.

Looking around the camp, Thaddeus felt a bit guilty. Who was he to pass judgment on the sisters, even in his mind? He had not been in Tristram, when the items seemed like harmless but useful trinkets. He had not been here when the countess was alive; if he had met her then, he might have found her too charming to think ill of her. She was beautiful, to judge from the thing he found in the tower. By one of the tents, Thaddeus saw guards still stood over the corrupted Rogues he'd brought back; he should see them, if they were awake.

The three were awake, sitting quietly on bunks near the back of the tent. "Hello," Thaddeus said, not sure how to introduce himself. He was sure they remembered their last encounter.

They fidgeted, and one looked ready to bolt at the sight of him. "Hello," one said, looking up for a moment.
Thaddeus sat down. "May I speak with you?"
"What choice have we got?" the frightened one said. "We can't go anywhere."
"You do not have to say anything to me," Thaddeus said. "But I would like to speak with you. There are things I need to know, and I think you could help me."
They sat silently, and finally one shrugged. "Help you with what?"
"When I found you... you were not yourselves. I believe I know how it happened, but I also need to know why."
A longer silence filled the tent. One began trembling, tears rolling down her face. "I don't know how it happened," another finally said.
"You were all at Tristram, weren't you?"
"I wasn't," one said.
She was the one who had a Tristram helmet. "That helmet you had --"
"I traded a bow for it... it was just an Ochre pot helm, nothing great..."
"I believe those things were trapped with demonic spirits, set to possess their users. You were possessed; it would have happened to anyone who had those things. It was not your fault, anyone would have fallen as you did." After pausing for a moment to let this sink in, Thaddeus continued, "The demons made you feel things, didn't they?"
"Yes," they said immediately, almost as one.
"Yes," Thaddeus replied. "Anger, hate, and pride, I would guess."
"I wanted to kill Kashya," one murmured.
That didn't surprise Thaddeus at all. He suspected that many of Kashya's Rogues disliked her, which would be a good starting point for a demon. "There are things within us all we do not like, which the darkness can use. That does not make you evil, nor does it make you weak. Do you still want to kill Kashya?"
Still staring at the ground, she shook her head. "No. Not as much."
Thaddeus smiled a bit. "I know Kashya has been angry with you, but she is as frightened as we all have been by this. When Kashya is frightened, I am sure she becomes angry."
"She wants us to leave the order."
Thaddeus shook his head. "Some of the greatest saints were beset by demons. They learned from their tragic lives and rose above their circumstances, to the benefit of all humankind. Kashya realizes that, I am sure."
The three stared at Thaddeus. "But she said, 'I want you out of the order.'"
That was embarrassing. Thaddeus cleared his throat. "I shall speak with her. Think on this: you have had a trial by fire few have experienced. How many know as much as you about our enemy?"
They looked less afraid now, but still not happy. Thaddeus continued, "Which brings me to what I need to know... who is responsible for this?"
"You mean..." the frightened one said, "her?"
Her. Not Diablo, or Baal. Only one of the 7 Great Evils always took female form. But the four lesser evils had supposedly rebelled against the three greater; had they reconciled? Or was this some lesser demon, not one of the greater lords? "We do not have to talk about it if you don't want to."
They nodded, and said no more. Thaddeus left quietly.

Cain was sitting by the fire, talking with Kashya. When Thaddeus came over, she snapped, "So, what'd they have to say for themselves?"

"For themselves, nothing. They have identified our enemy."
Cain said, "From what you said, I believe it to be Andariel, Maiden of Anguish!"
"I suppose it should have been obvious. She is also Mistress of the Succubi, and seems to expect all of her minions to dress the part."
"It may be that she was trying to recover from her losses at Tristram. While I was there, the heroes mentioned meeting many Succubi in the deepest parts of the dungeons. They were never numerous, and many died, so it may be that Andariel was seeking among the Rogues for... replacements."
"Can demons do that?" Thaddeus asked.
"That is not clear to me," Cain muttered. "It may be possible."
"This would also mean that the forces of Hell which were in rebellion against the Three Prime Evils have rejoined them."
Cain nodded. "Andariel was working against Diablo and his brothers for centuries, but now it appears she is with them. It is my belief that Diablo has taken possession of the hero who sought to slay him, and is making his way to the deserts of Lut Gholein to free his brother Baal. Andariel is obviously occupying the monastery to block pursuit."
"Yes," Thaddeus agreed. "So it is imperative that I get through." Turning to Kashya, he said, "And while I am doing so, I will return as many of your Rogues to you as I can."
"We won't have enough to guard them if you do that," Kashya said.
"You do not need to guard them," Thaddeus said. "They will need to be put back into your service, and soon, for there is much they need to do."
"Have you gone nuts? They can't be trusted."
"Of course they can. I would trust them before I would trust your untested soldiers; they know where danger lies. Besides, I will need your Rogues to carry letters to nearby cities, describing what has happened here."
Kashya's mouth opened and closed a few times. "I will NOT allow them to go armed in our camp! They slaughtered their fellow sisters, they gave in to demons, who knows WHAT they were doing out there with them --"
"That is all over now," Thaddeus said calmly. "Have you no forgiveness in you? They have gone through something horrible. They lost their minds, their better natures, their souls were in peril. To find themselves again, they need goodness from you and all their sisters. To be good is something more than simply shutting out evil."
"You weren't there when the monastery was attacked!" Kashya snarled. You have NO IDEA what they did! You say they were possessed. A demon can't possess someone and make them do what they'd never do themselves! Read your scripture! The ones who fell WANTED to fall, they made a PACT, the demons just rooted out the weak ones and we're better off without them!"
"No," Thaddeus said. "A demon can make someone do what they would not normally do. When possessing a mind, a demon may take advantage of weaknesses, resentment, or hostility normally held in check. All people have weaknesses. Tell me, why do you think Blood Raven fell?"
That gave Kashya pause. Thaddeus went on, "Was she weak? Or full of resentment? Did she enjoy raising the dead from their slumber when you knew her?"
"Rabina was... proud. I'd consider that her only flaw. She had a lot to be proud of."
"And as near-flawless as she was, she fell further than any other. I think your sisters fell into a cunning trap, that would ensnare anyone. To clear your monastery of everyone who could not be 'turned', you would have to empty it forever. Now, in these girls, you have some who have come back from the brink of darkness. They should not be blamed for what was done, using their bodies."
"I still cannot trust them."
"You may have to. I will write letters, which I need taken to nearby cities, and the head of my order. We have learned much of how the demons are working now, and cannot allow the knowledge to die with us. This may endanger us, but we must think of the rest of the world. I must return to battle. Please, discuss this with Akara. The decision belongs with you and she, but I beg you to reconsider your position."

Kashya is a fierce woman, Thaddeus thought as he climbed out of the countess's marshes. Pride may be her only flaw too, or perhaps merely her greatest flaw. It does not bode well to spend time contemplating the inadequacies of others, but something about her irritated and distressed him. She had probably remained behind at the monastery, keeping the barracks, when the Rogues went to Tristram. If she hadn't, she would probably be out here, armed with a bow. As he climbed a hill, the monastery came into view. The high stone walls were built across a gap in the mountains, with one huge gate, shut up tight. A gloom hung over the whole building that even the sun could not penetrate. Looking at the wall, Thaddeus wondered how he could enter, before he saw a small door off to one side. In the meantime, arrows were whizzing past him as he stood on the hilltop; skeletal archers below were taking advantage of his poorly-chosen vantage point.

The hillsides around the monastery were full of corrupted Rogues, far more than Akara would have the energy to exorcise. As much as it pained him, Thaddeus began to pick and choose who would live and who would die from among them. Any who seemed too pleased with what they were doing, died. Those whose physical transformations probably mirrored a more deeply corrupted soul were put down as well; horns, claws, even one with a vestigial pair of wings he took as a sign for death. The remainder were still so numerous, Thaddeus had to pile them up outside of camp, where the Rogues tied them to the palisades. He wondered if Akara could see to them all before they died of exposure.

On one return trip, Thaddeus saw Avilli, armed with a bow and standing watch at the first gate. Akara had evidently disagreed with Kashya, and welcomed Avilli back into the order. Warriv warned Thaddeus that it would be a good idea to avoid Kashya for a while; she was mad, and might take it out on him. Charsi also seemed leery of Kashya, but also of her formerly corrupted sisters. They still bore the physical marks of their ordeal, and made her nervous. But while you're here... Charsi had left her best tools back in the monastery, including a thing called the Horadric Malus. It could craft powerful items, and would be very useful to have. Thaddeus agreed to look for it.

Before he went back, a strange thin man Thaddeus didn't recognize stopped him. "Greetings, your holiness! It's good to see someone around here again."

  "Greetings... you have been here before?"
  "Many times!  You see, I'm a... traveler, of a sort.  I give things to deserving people I meet so they can do good things with their lives."
  Thaddeus smiled. "Charitable acts are not to be frowned upon.  Here, let me give you something that you may purchase food and lodgings."
  "Oh, I don't want those things!  I'm here to give something to you!"
  "I have no need of charity," Thaddeus frowned.  "Others need you much more."
  "This is less a need, and more a convenience!  You'll be wanting this, and this here.  They'll do you a world of good."
  Thaddeus now had a valuable amulet and a glowing set of chain mail, which spat and shone with sparks of electricity.  "What are these things?"
  "This is a Rainbow amulet of the Bat, and that there is the Sparkling Mail.  Don't you worry, no demons hidin' in them!  I've got to go now, so I'll see you again when you've opened the pass.  Best o' luck to ya!"
  "How did you..."  Thaddeus looked around, but the strange man had ambled off.  That was some very quick ambling, he thought, but the items did not seem to have any demonic traps.  Perhaps they were a gift from the light, but the peculiar emissary seemed an odd choice.

The gates led to a small garden area, with a beautiful fountain representing three Rogue heroes in a back-to-back hilltop stand. The gardens were torn up, with blood splattered on the walls, and mangled flesh and bones in the flower beds. Some of the canniest-looking Rogues were here, along with more courageous Fallen Ones. Beyond the gardens were the barracks, where Charsi had said her tools were kept. The barracks were full of everything you'd expect: cots, weapon racks, bits of clothing and armor, eviscerated young women... Well, maybe not everything was as it should be, but all was as Thaddeus expected. The Sparkling Mail was a great help; charges of electricity surged around him, adding an extra zap to every demon he hit. The amulet was useful too, allowing him to recover much of the vigor and will he would normally lose to fatigue over the course of a fight.

In the deepest part of the barracks, a huge demon was pounding away on an anvil, probably using Charsi's tools. It looked like a Flayed One, a demon formed from the blood of an angel whose all-consuming vanity led him to revolt against Heaven. As punishment, he was thrown into the fiery pits, where his beauty was taken from him with red-hot whips and tongs of icy-cold iron. Flayed Ones are tough and powerful, but slow, so Thaddeus was in no real danger as he destroyed it. The Horadric Malus was among the tools in the smithy, and Charsi was very happy to see it again.

Thaddeus thought it was good to see the camp again. More of the Rogues he'd returned from the pass were walking the grounds. They were unarmed, and looked deeply ashamed, but they were there, and making themselves useful. There were still plenty of corrupted ones tied to the walls; Thaddeus did not think they could all have been exorcised in one day. He just hoped he wasn't expecting too much of Lady Akara; she was not young, and this might be a terrible strain for her. It was long past dark. Flavie was at her post again, and more Rogues were outside the camp walls than within, watching over their sisters. It might have been helpful for him to watch with them, but Thaddeus stayed inside. He needed light to write his letters, and then he needed sleep.

Chapter 7

The Whore of Darkness came to them in secret. She served Baal and worshipped him, And bade them to forsake their own house. Zedekiah the son of Shilhim came near And went in strength into the temple. The Light rent the mountain, broke into pieces Rock and beam. All who ate at her table were there, And he said unto her, "Your servants are dead, The door is opened up, all now know you. Come out to me, for your time is at an end."

    -- Chronicles of Zakarum, c. 13, v. 31-40

As the sun rose, Thaddeus started awake. Sleep had been fitful, full of dark nightmares and fearful worries. Somewhere inside the monastery, a Lord of Hell was sending out endless waves of minions. To save the Rogue's lives, he had to go in, find her, and kill her. He also had to live through the attempt; that Lesser Evil was in turn guarding the way to a Greater Evil. The letters he had written explained everything, but there could be no delay in the pursuit of Diablo if he was truly seeking his brother. Last night, Thaddeus had entered the monastery. He would have to find Andariel today.

According to the Rogues, beneath the barracks was a jail, where they had kept misbehaving visitors, of whom they had many. Women soldiers were a bit of a novelty here in the west, and not everyone recognized their authority. Many female Paladins had complained of this. Beyond the jails was an inner courtyard, and the Rogue's Mountain Cathedral; Akara was sure Andariel was there.

Andariel was well described in the scripture of Zakarum. While walking among humanity, she always takes a form of great beauty, for vanity and envy are her favorite sins. In times of tranquillity, she is at her most dangerous, for she and her most favored minions have great insight into human weaknesses. War is not her theater, but she is a Lord of Hell, and not to be trifled with at any time. She would take on a form more suited to combat, taller than any man, with the features of a horrendous spider -- the sort that eats its mate. Perhaps the symbolism appealed to her.

As he dressed for battle, Thaddeus wondered if he was afraid. Despite the nightmares, he felt calm and focused, but a crawly feeling came up in his gut when he thought of facing Andariel. He had read much on her and her infernal cohort; the demons he met outside the monastery were numbered among Diablo's favored minions, not hers. The trapped items from Tristram was a tactic he had never heard of either using. How much of the knowledge in Zakarum's records was inaccurate? Perhaps they was simply out of date; the demons had changed their tactics. Uncertainty had always made Thaddeus uneasy, but from here, he could not rely on the knowledge he had spent so much time learning.

Before returning to the monastery, Thaddeus looked around the camp, seeing who was there. Gheed, perhaps in a fit of premonition, was under his wagon, and prepared to stay there until winter. Kashya was with Akara, as the last of the corrupted Rogues were brought inside the walls to her. Warriv was chatting with two of the Rogues over breakfast, telling them some funny story. A laugh might do him good, so Thaddeus went to visit with them.

"Good morning," he said, dishing up a bowl of gruel for himself.
"Ah, hello there!" Warriv smiled. "Have you heard the story about the overturned wagon?"
"No, I don't think so."
"One time, a merchant's wagon overturned, right in this pass. The driver, a rather handsome young fellow, was trying to turn it up when two Rogues came by."
The two Rogues next to him were giggling. Thaddeus was sure Warriv wasn't the sort to tell embarrassing stories, so he smiled. "Go on."
"The two Rogues said to him, 'It's almost dark. Why don't you come with us? You can put your wagon back in the morning, it's not going anywhere.' The driver replied, 'I would like to, but I don't think my caravan master would want me to do that.'"
"This isn't... Gheed's sort of joke, is it?"
"This early in the morning?" Warriv looked positively aghast. "And around two lovely young ladies, too! What do you take me for?"
"Oh, I should have realized you've more discretion. I don't know how I ever could have doubted you," Thaddeus deadpanned.
"The Rogues take the driver back to the monastery, and treat him to a meal in their own hall. And while everyone treats him well, he keeps saying he has to get back to his wagon, or the caravan master won't like it. Finally, the Rogues say, 'Your master must be the worst master in the world! You don't have to be afraid of him! Who is he, anyway?' You know what the driver says?"
"No..."
"He says, 'He's the one under my wagon.'"
It wasn't even that great a joke, but Thaddeus spat his gruel out, he laughed so hard. The Rogues looked at him strangely. "Ah ha ha... ha... I'm sorry, I think I needed that."
"It seems so," Warriv laughed. "You should stop being so serious all the time. Tell me a joke you know. It'll do you good."
"Um..." Thaddeus thought a minute. "Well, I do know one, but it's not a very nice joke..."
"Oh, ho!" Warriv and the Rogues both looked surprised. "Something straight from the dark underbelly of the seminary? I can't live without hearing it now."
"If you insist. One night, a priest and a nun were traveling together and came to an inn. No other place offered hospitality, but they only had money for one room. The priest said, 'Sister, there should be no difficulty if we spend the night in one room. You may have the bed, I will sleep in the chair.'"
"I think I've heard this one," Warriv raised an eyebrow.
"I haven't," one Rogue said. "Does anything good happen?"
"That depends on how you define good," Thaddeus remarked. "During the night, the sister says, 'Brother, I am very cold here.' The priest goes downstairs, and fetches a blanket from the innkeeper."
"Ah, this is new. The one I heard, the priest asked her to look for a mouse in his bed."
"A mouse?" the Rogue giggled.
"I hope it was bigger than a mouse," the other laughed.
Hearing that was a bit of a shock for Thaddeus. "Warriv, perhaps we've been worrying too much about them hearing dirty jokes."
"Oh, come on!" the first Rogue said. "What do you think there is to talk about all night in a barracks, anyway?"
Warriv laughed, but Thaddeus's ears were burning. It was fortunate that his dark skin concealed it, or he'd probably be bright pink now. "I thought this was a monastery..."
"We're not monks. With all the cute guys that come through here?"
"Oh, don't I know it!" Warriv chuckled. "You Rogues became famous for your odd double standards, as far as hospitality goes. Most visitors see the harsh, martial side, but a select few... do not." Rolling his eyes heavenwards, Warriv did his best to look innocent. "But we'd better let your current and only guest finish his story."
"Ahem. Yes. He got her a blanket, and lay down. A few minutes later, she said, 'Brother, I'm still cold.' The priest got up, saying 'I will get another blanket for you.' She said, 'I don't think it would be sinful, if we acted as man and wife for one night.' The priest nodded, and replied, 'You may be right. So... shut up and get your own damn blanket.'"
Warriv laughed a lot at that one; the Rogues laughed, but not as much. Maybe they were hoping for something juicier. "Whoever thought of that one," Warriv said, "obviously knew what being married is really like!"
"You're married, Warriv?" Thaddeus asked.
"Happily married for 17 years. She's in Kingsport, and probably thinks I'm already in Lut Gholein, fending off some sweet young thing's advances. It's not my fault the fairer sex finds me irresistible!"
That made the Rogues laugh. "Oh, sure, Warriv! The bristly, itchy beard does it for me."
"And those cute little love handles!"
"Oh, and the gray hairs look so distinguished!"
"What can I say?" Warriv puffed his chest out in mock pride. "Charisma like mine is a gift."
"Don't worry, maybe you can still exchange it."
"You wound me, girls! Why, haven't you ever noticed how Kashya just can't stay away from me? She's always hovering about, drawn by my fierce, manly magnetism!"
This was getting to be a bit much for Thaddeus. He was sure none of them were serious, but didn't feel comfortable joking like this, especially with nice-looking young women. "For some reason, I just can't see that."
"Believe me, Kashya is glad," one Rogue said sarcastically. "She would NOT approve."
"A pity, that." Warriv looked off into the distance. "Many visitors to the Rogue's pass have admired fair Kashya from afar, but she spurns all suitors. Her marriage bed is in the officer's quarters of a barracks."
"Well, she is quite beautiful." Thaddeus finished his gruel. "But I wonder about her."
The Rogues looked at him strangely again. "Aren't Paladins supposed to, like, not notice stuff like that?"
"Why not?" Thaddeus looked confused. "I'm as human as the next man."
"Obviously, telling a joke like that," Warriv opined.
Thaddeus shrugged. "Paladins are not ordained or put under vows. We're knights, not priests. Or I hope to be, someday."
"You're not a knight?"
"I have not been knighted. When the troubles began, I came out of the seminary to serve as an errand runner. I have not passed my tests of manhood. That may have to wait for a while, until the crisis is past."

After bidding the Rogues good morning, Thaddeus returned to the jails. All through the jails, Thaddeus saw no more living Rogues. There were ghosts, more Fallen Ones, Tainted Ones, and Skeletons, but the Rogues were dead. They were impaled on stakes, nailed to tables and vivisected, shredded to bits -- every possible way of slowly killing them had been used. None of this was surprising, but Thaddeus would have to ask where all the torture equipment came from. The demons certainly enjoyed having it. A narrow staircase led to the inner gardens, just outside the doors to the Rogue's cathedral.

The cathedral was a beautiful building, made from the smooth grayish-white limestone of the mountain. The two processional halls on either side of the apse featured huge tapestries, commemorating the coming of the Rogues to the mountain, the building of the monastery, and the first battles they participated in. All the tapestries had been defaced in the crudest ways. The delicate stained glass windows had been broken, and the pews were smashed to the floor. While breaking in the skulls of a group of Fallen Shamen, Thaddeus reflected on the motives of the vandal. Some cannot abide grand, beautiful things; it reminds them there is something in the world greater than themselves.

There were some dangerous creatures in the cathedral. The Fallen Shamen, when in a group under a powerful leader, were fairly dangerous. In the other hall, a similar group of Tainted Ones also proved dangerous. Near the main altar, a Skeleton named Bone Ash was waiting. Bone Ash used to be a Necromancer, who brought his poisonous talents to Diablo's service in exchange for power. Power was granted after his timely death; Diablo continued to make use of him as a general of his terrifying skeletal mages. True, he could not enjoy his power; being dead puts a damper on your enthusiasm and enjoyment of things. But when was the last time a deal with a demon turned out to be all you'd hoped for?

Andariel was not in the cathedral, but Thaddeus found a small set of stairs near the back, which must lead down into the catacombs. Waves of almost palpable evil spilled up from the depths; something terrible was down there. Thaddeus wondered why Andariel was hiding in the catacombs; surely, someone of her temperament would be more comfortable in a boudoir or seraglio. Then again, the Rogues probably didn't have a place where she'd feel really comfortable. The catacombs gave her access to animatable corpses, which would be reason enough to make her stronghold there.

Going down into the catacombs, Thaddeus met new and strange beasts. Sitting quietly in the corners were absolutely gargantuan hunting spiders -- their abdomens were nearly the height of a man, and their legs could span a whole corridor. Unlike the other monsters, they did not charge to attack immediately, but charged from ambush. It was actually possible to not notice them in the pell-mell of battle until you were quite close to them, despite their size. Andariel might be fond of spiders, explaining their presence, but the next new monster he met was a complete surprise. These were tiny pygmy-men, smaller even than the Fallen, but with gigantic teeth and absolutely nothing cowardly in their disposition.

A horrible thought occurred to Thaddeus. According to the histories he had read, a tribe of pygmies called the Flayers lived in the jungles of Kurast. They were numerous and highly excitable, and though their diet was almost entirely meat, they were not a great danger to humankind. Usually, they avoided direct confrontation, their small size making escape easy and combat difficult for them. These ones wore the simple, brightly-colored garments typical of the eastern jungles, and certainly matched the descriptions of Flayers. But they came gibbering to the attack in a mad frenzy, with no regard for their own lives, a sure hallmark of demonic influence. The giant spiders might also be from Kurast, where all sorts of insects can grow to prodigious size. Kurast was home to the Hand of Zakarum, the Custodians of Hatred, and the Guardian Tower, built to imprison the eldest of the Prime Evils.

If Kurast had fallen... that would mean the Lord of Hatred had done as Diablo did, corrupting the land around his prison. Kurast would be full of his minions. Had he sent some, through a hellish gate, to help his brother? No, wait -- among Cain's ramblings, Thaddeus remembered that the troubles in Tristram began when an Archbishop was sent from Kurast. Tristram was far too small a town for so high an official to make his seat there. That fact should have leapt out at Thaddeus, but he hadn't noticed among the hundreds of other facts pouring out of Cain's memory. The world must be enmeshed in a secret web spun across many lands, perhaps even moving through the church of Zakarum itself! If Terror and Hatred were free and working evil, Destruction must be contained at all costs.

Muttering a quick and silent prayer, Thaddeus swiftly moved down through the catacombs with renewed vigor and concentration. The Fallen Ones down here were black and hardly cowardly at all; they might have been dangerous for those outfitted with fewer great relics. Half-skeletal ghouls, the remains of mages given over to corruption, feasted on the decayed dust of the dead. Thaddeus crushed them all, and in the lowest level of the catacombs, he found the funerary shrine. Prior to interment, bodies were lain out for a period of mourning and praising of the dead. Now, the pool of cleansing, where the purest water was held for mourners, was a broken pit in the floor full of blood and corpses. Andariel had been thorough in her defilement. Huge doors led into the shrine itself.

Thaddeus opened the doors, and glared into the smoky darkness. Tainted Ones came to greet him, then Zombies, then a pack of Fallen Ones. More minions, and still more minions. Patience is a virtue, but Thaddeus had lost all he had. "ANDARIEL! Come out!"

Nothing moved in the shrine. "Andariel! Unless you crawl back into the Hell you came from, there is no place deeper than this. You cannot hide from me any longer! You can cower behind your slaves a few moments more, if that is your wish, but do not expect them to save you from me! So COME OUT, you worm-eaten whore!"

Huge, heavy footfalls suddenly pounded the floor. A voice wailed, |YOU MAGGOT! NONE DARE SPEAK THUS TO ME!!| and Andariel came into view. She was queen of the Succubi, and some of her chosen features might have been beautiful, on some other creature. When she spat, Thaddeus caught the green glob on the Umbral Disk. With demons, you never know what might be dangerous, and spiders do have a poisonous bite. Snarling, Andariel hurled a cloud of stinking green vapor from her bosom, then charged into battle, lashing out with her long talons.

The Umbral Disk caught the brunt of her attack; the Sparkling Mail protected Thaddeus from the rest. Andariel cried out in pain as the sparks shocked her; no, combat really wasn't her forte. Zealously, Thaddeus lashed out with Knell Striker, each blow slamming into her soft body, splattering red and green ichor over the shrine. Chitin and bone crunched as Thaddeus rained hit after hit upon her, blocking her return strikes with ease. Only the noisome vapor she put out had any lasting effect on him. The fight was brief, the end inevitable. Andariel wailed in despair as her body broke and her life bled out on the floor, finally collapsing and burning from the inside. A column of intense heat blasted up from her corpse as it burned to ash and dust. Looking up at the ceiling, Thaddeus noted the exquisite carvings there, now obscured by the huge scorch mark. Typical. Even while dying, she had to destroy one last thing of beauty.

Andariel's dying wail of agony could be heard over the whole pass. Something like a shudder passed through the land, and then, peace. Back in camp, all the corrupted Rogues began laughing. They were still laughing when Thaddeus returned; he wondered if he had stumbled into a madhouse. But the joy on their faces was unmistakable. It was relief, and release, and the resurgence of hope that made them laugh; the joy of madness ending.

When they saw him, Thaddeus became the object of the biggest group hug in the history of the sisterhood. He still didn't feel quite comfortable with it, but there really wasn't any way out of it. When he was able, Thaddeus told the Rogues he would have to leave. Diablo was on his way across the deserts, and pursuing him was vital. It would take Warriv's caravan a few minutes to get started, so Thaddeus went around the camp, saying his goodbyes. Avilli was there, and many other corrupted sisters, armed and ready to clean up the last of the beasts in their monastery. The scars on their faces and bodies would never heal, but their minds and souls seemed to have found some happiness again.

Kashya greeted Thaddeus with something almost not entirely unlike a smile. "You have been an inspiration. I mourn our dear sisters, but the sisterhood stands firm. And we owe much of it to you. Many of those here, would not be, if it wasn't for you."

  "Good can be found in anyone, Kashya.  Evil doesn't always win.  Hope is the thing; none of us must ever lose it."
  "Our life is renewed here, and some of my own views as well.  I heard some of the things others said about me.  Perhaps I have emphasized my Rogue's martial training overmuch."
  "Faith is the shield that protects the mind, which is at least as important as the body when your foe can attack your soul.  Though this does not mean they should be monks... I don't think they'd enjoy that very much."
  "We are warriors, first and foremost."  Kashya looked down, her voice lowered.  "So many of the ones you brought back hated me so much.  I have always been hard on them, to master their training, but I know now that created resentment.  That hate was the greatest weapon the demons had to turn them."
  Thaddeus nodded, understanding now.  "Warriors you are, and great ones.  But we are all human beings, and the joys of life are a part of our being.  Perhaps you wished to turn them away from sin; but sin is a loss of balance, not life's pleasures."
  Slowly nodding, Kashya smiled a bit again.  "Is that why you don't take vows of chastity?"
  Thaddeus's ears began to burn again.  "Eh... well... something like that, yes..."

Before he could leave, Akara summoned Thaddeus to her tent. Ordering him to kneel before her, she took up his scepter. In view of all, Akara declared Thaddeus to have satisfied all the knightly requirements of his order by leaps and bounds, and let none contradict her word on the matter. With a touch to each shoulder, Thaddeus was declared a Knight of the Order of the Protectors of the Word, Champions of Zakarum, Hero of the People, and Preserver of the Light. Returning Knell Striker to him, Akara then ordered Thaddeus to get the heck out of camp and chase down Diablo. A more fitting ceremony could come later.

Act 2

Chapter 8

Yea, O people who dwell in this place, Rejoice, for you shall weep no more. The sounds of your cries, the wail of your Children, the weeping of your widows, Has come to me. Rain shall fall for the seed. The oxen and asses will eat salted grain. There will be majestic songs in the night, And your hearts will skip like young lambs.

    -- The Book of Haisin, c. 30, v. 19-26

Thaddeus and the Rogues walked with the caravan wagons during the slow trek up, back and forth through the switchbacks of the pass. The underground passage short-cut had saved a lot of time, but the wagons couldn't possibly go in there. There were still a few demons and corrupted animals lurking about; it would take a while to ferret them all out. The saddest were a few pockets of Rogues, still warped in body, and sometimes in mind. Most ran away or hid at the approach of their sisters. Some just sat there, crying or pulling at the horns and spikes growing out of their bodies. Others attacked them, but without any of their old enthusiasm; Thaddeus wondered if it was some form of suicide.

After a short goodbye at the monastery, Warriv took the wagons on their long-overdue trek into the great desert of Aranoch. The journey is always dangerous, not only from the heat of the desert, but the ubiquitous bandits who roam the dunes and salt flats. Some of them are nothing more than the local nomads, who think anything they can take is theirs for the taking. Others are "civilized", but have no stomach for work and try to better themselves at the expense of their fellow men. The bandits were out in force this trip; they assaulted the caravan no less than four times. Warriv could never remember them being so ferocious.

The bandits came so often, Thaddeus was sure, because Diablo had gone through this area. Like a shadow trailing in his wake, corruption and doom were defiling the land and its creatures. The wells and oases were going dry, or black with poison. Many of the desert animals attacked them; several horses and people were stung by scorpions or snakes, and Thaddeus had to cleanse their bodies of the poison. As they approached Lut Gholein, a group of Sand Leapers, cliff-dwelling reptiles common in the desert, attacked. According to Warriv, Leapers are predatory, but these were larger than any he'd seen before, with enormous claws and a thick hide. They attacked as a pack; one would distract, the others would come in from behind.

On the journey across the desert, Warriv and the other merchants entertained each other with stories about their travels, and a lot of the talk centered on Lut Gholein. The port was the gateway to the west, the first port ships traveling from the rich old lands of the east come to. No ships had come across in recent years, but Lut Gholein was still important, as the mountainous terrain of the west often made transporting things by sea more economical than taking them over land. They were all eager to get there; Andariel had delayed them for a long time, and besides, their water was running out. Warriv thought the local well water might be drinkable if they boiled it first, but he didn't want to try unless they had to.

To Thaddeus's surprise, the caravan arrived at Lut Gholein without serious losses. Warriv assured him it was no surprise to anyone else. Over the years, he had led many caravans, some of which suffered great misfortune, but never when a Paladin accompanied them. Not only does the Paladin defend the merchants physically, but their prayers of restoration and cleansing can heal almost any injury. Thaddeus was just glad they'd made good time across the desert. According to the Rogues, Diablo went through the pass more than three weeks ago. Finding him before he dug up his brother Baal would be critical. To find him, Thaddeus would need to know where he was going.

The city of Lut Gholein was fairly large, larger than any of the towns Thaddeus had seen in Khanduras. There were also no farms surrounding it -- just empty dunes and rocky wastes. The city walls and buildings were made of baked mud bricks, sometimes painted colorfully but more often left the same drab tones as the desert soil. The people were a great contrast. Even the gate guards had robes of white and bright red. Beyond them, the people on the streets were brilliantly clothed in yellow, vibrant blue, crimson, beautiful purples and subtle pinks. No great cheer went up when the caravan pulled into the open gates, but a few local dignitaries (to judge by their beards) greeted them quietly. A young man, richly garbed and of noble bearing, was among them.

As he looked about the streets, Thaddeus wondered about the place. The "subtle pink" he'd seen earlier was more outspoken than he'd thought, on a rather unsubtle garment a young woman was wearing. A narrow strip of pink cloth was wrapped around the woman's chest, leaving her belly, shoulders, and most of her back completely bare; he'd misjudged the color because he was unaware that most of what he was seeing was flesh. Red satin trousers rode low on her hips, pressing close against her body with every movement and every breeze. A slit up the outside, from ankle to waist, was held together by a row of widely-spaced brass buttons, permitting the exposure of even more skin. Cheap-looking jewelry sparkled from her neck, bosom, and arms. Topping it all off, a veil over her face preserved her modesty.

As Thaddeus stared at this unencumbered vision, she noticed, and winked before moving on. After looking around to make sure she'd winked at him, he wondered what that could possibly have meant. Maybe she was laughing at his clothing; he was decked out in full armor, which was uncomfortably hot in the desert sun. Looking around, Thaddeus saw many of the town's citizenry were lightly dressed, even naked from the waist up. Perhaps the young woman's attire was simply sensible desert garb, and if Thaddeus thought it a bit revealing, he just had different standards. Nonetheless, even though it was very hot in the mail, Thaddeus wasn't about to change into local garb. For what he had to do, armor was the only appropriate fashion statement. Besides, that woman was still a bit suspect.

"Greetings." The noble young man he'd seen earlier had come over to greet him.
"Hail, noble lord," Thaddeus hastily bowed. "I am Thaddeus, and have come from afar, on a quest of great importance."
"Warriv has told me of your quest, Sir Thaddeus. I am Jerhyn, Sultan of Lut Gholein, and I bid you welcome to my fair port city. It is good to know you are here."
It was a bit jarring to hear the title attached to his name. In an objective way, he could see that defeating a lord of Hell in combat was a suitable test of valiance, and he deserved the title, but it would take a while to get used to it. "I am glad to be here, mighty sultan. Perhaps Warriv has also told you of what I seek?"
Jerhyn frowned, looking uncomfortable. "The dark wanderer he described did come to the city, perhaps 4 days ago. He came seeking knowledge of the location of the Tomb of Tal Rasha, and left when he discovered that the tomb is lost. Though he was peculiar, I did not attach any importance to his visit, until terrible things began to stalk the desert sands. The dead are rising from their tombs, and beasts unknown to these lands fill the night with alien calls. I must confess, I fear for my city."
Four days ago; at the Rogue Pass, Thaddeus had been behind by weeks. It was good to know he was catching up, but Thaddeus wondered what was delaying Diablo on his journey. Was he stopping along the way to raise demons, terrorizing the land? "You should not worry, my lord. Your walls are strong and well guarded, and your foe does not seek to destroy you at this time. If he is allowed to find what he seeks, then you must worry for all humanity."
"If only it were so simple," Jerhyn muttered. "The dangers outside these walls are great, and I hesitate to send you forth unadvised. You must speak to Drognan, my father's court wizard and the wisest man I know. He will be able to tell you much of what is happening. Oh, and many merchants about town have things for sale you might want. I would give you a tour, but I must inspect your caravan and then return to my palace."
"Thank you, my lord. May I visit you there again later?"
Hospitality is usually offered by a noble house to a visiting knight. So Thaddeus was a bit surprised when Jerhyn started at the suggestion. "Ah, no, please, you may stay at Elzix's inn, free of charge. His place is near the north gate, you will find him an excellent innkeeper and good company, besides. I am sorry, I cannot invite you into the palace right now. Things are... a bit of a mess."
A mess? Surely my lords' servants..."
"My servants are all gone, visiting their relatives. Ah, when the troubles began, they wanted to make sure their relatives who live outside the city were all right. I granted them leave to visit them, and they have not returned yet."
Now, Thaddeus was embarrassed. If all of Lord Jerhyn's servants were gone, he would have to wait on guests himself, not a position a sultan should be forced into. "I beg your pardon, mighty sultan, I had no idea. Your generosity impresses me deeply."
"I thank you for your understanding. And I nearly forgot: Atma, who keeps a tavern east of the market square, has been requesting my help on a matter of grave concern. While I cannot spare a single man to aid her, if you would do so, I would be grateful."

If Diablo was only a few days ahead of him now, Thaddeus probably had a little time to tour the city and see what services it had to offer. While the gifts of the church and that odd fellow from the Rogue's camp were of inestimable value, there were other things he might want or need for his quest. By the docks, several ships were moored, with sailors sitting about playing games of chance and skill. They said all ships had been ordered to stay in port until further notice. Apparently, Jerhyn was worried about travelers taking small demonic stowaways with them, something which has been known to happen. Though still a young man, Lord Jerhyn was well-advised in his rulership.

Moving up through the central market, Thaddeus saw many merchants peddling wares, from bright copper bowls to clothing of all sorts. Light and breezy was definitely the fashion here; certainly not like the staid garments the church favored for sons and daughters of Zakarum. Perhaps it was a bit dull, Thaddeus thought as he looked around, but making a display of the body could be a terrible distraction, even a temptation to stray from a balanced life. In one hour in Lut Gholein, he'd seen more skin than he had in years. Even the Rogues, who prefer to dress light so they can move quickly, would find some of the women here a bit untoward.

All of a sudden, an explosion ripped through a shop at the north side of the square. The shop held together, but smoke billowed out as a fire started inside. The people looked up... and after a moment, went back about their business. An old man stumbled out, coughing and waving the smoke away. Pulling on a handy rope, a sprinkle of water came down from pipes set in the shop's ceiling, extinguishing the fire. Judging from his preparedness and the unconcerned attitudes of his fellow citizens, this was not an uncommon occurrence, but Thaddeus decided to look and see if he needed help anyway.

  "Greetings," Thaddeus said. The old man, muttering imprecations, didn't seem to hear him, and went back into his shop. Following him in, Thaddeus tapped him on the shoulder. 
  "Hah?" The old man whirled about, looking around, then up at Thaddeus. "Oh, hello! You'll have to pardon me, I'm a bit deaf." 
  "I would never have guessed," Thaddeus said, looking around at all the sooty blast marks decorating every inch of the shop's walls and ceiling. "You must be an alchemist." 
  "Lysander's the name! I'm the alchemist here; I make potions and things. Anything you might like, don't hesitate to ask." 
  "Thank you. Do you know where I might find a wizard named Drognan?" 
  "Lizard banes? Have you been having a problem with them? Pest control is a specialty of mine, but scorpions are the usual complaint."

This might be harder than he thought. "I'll just have an antidote, then."

  "Oh, for antique coats, you'd better go see that pack rat Elzix. He runs the inn near the north gate, and is forever selling old stuff off. I think he's trying to fence all the things he stole from other people's tombs when he was still a bandit!" 
  If he got anything he wanted out of this Lysander fellow, it would be by accident. "You've been very helpful. But I must be off. I bid you good day."

Friendly enough people, Thaddeus thought, but it would be better to find someone with two good ears to talk to. North of the square, past some houses and a magnificent palace, an inn called The Desert Rain sat directly against the north wall. Soldiers patrolling the walls could actually step down and walk on its roof. Elzix, the inn keeper, only had one good ear, and eye, and leg; he was the most mutilated person Thaddeus had ever seen smile.

  "You look like a sturdy adventurer. I used to go adventuring a lot in my day."

The word "adventurer" has a lot of negative connotations to it, mainly because a lot of adventurers are nothing but bandits and thugs using a fancy name. "You look like you've seen a lot of adventure. It must have been a daring life."

  "Daring isn't the word for it! I was the terror of the sands, no caravan ever got away from me! But that's over now. I'm too old, and too beat up to make a living like that. My days of adventure are behind me." 
  He spoke of it so openly and cheerfully, Thaddeus couldn't help but frown. "What do you think of the things roaming the deserts now?" 
  "I wouldn't go near them! The worst thing I've ever faced was an old tomb guardian, and it killed half my men after we'd put it down." 
  "You mean before." 
  "No, I mean after! They're poisonous. Not to be taken lightly." 
  "I see. Lord Jerhyn has told me I can take lodgings with you here." 
  Elzix smiled ingratiatingly. He was missing several teeth. "Anything Jerhyn says is ok by me! Remember, there's always cool wine and hot ladies at The Desert Rain."

Any port in a storm, but Thaddeus decided to keep his footlocker locked and hidden. Even if he didn't go raiding, Elzix might not have given up thievery completely. The shirt he was wearing looked suspiciously like one of Warriv's. Leaving the inn, Thaddeus wondered if he could somehow get into the palace unawares, and store his things there. It would be an inexcusable breach of etiquette, so he never really considered it. The city's north gate was right beside Elzix's inn, and a single guard stood there.

  "Greetings. Could you tell me where I might find Drognan the wizard?" 
  "South of here, to the left, before you get to the inn. New in town?" 
  "Yes, I have only just arrived. I am Thaddeus." 
  "Greiz. Head of the Desert Eagles, the best damn merc unit in this desert." 
  He was wearing the same colors as the guards on the wall. "You and your men here are mercenaries, not town guards?" 
  "Don't ask me what's up with the town guards. They're all busy in the palace for some reason. Jerhyn hired my men to watch the gates for them. You look like you're here to do some adventuring." 
  "I suppose I am," Thaddeus reluctantly agreed. "Have you any advice?" 
  "Hire one of my men to watch your back. There's packs of monsters out there. You don't want to go up against them alone." 
  "You may be right. I hate to risk their lives on my own adventures, though. Perhaps I will take you up on that later, when I run into greater difficulties."

The wizard Drognan ran a small shop, selling magical wares such as staves and scepters. The shop was not very large, or particularly luxurious, as Thaddeus might have expected from someone wealthy enough to trade in such expensive enchantments. Perhaps Drognan understood the folly of ostentatious display; or he might not have many customers. The wizard himself greeted Thaddeus quietly.

"Hello. I understand you are responsible for banishing Andariel back to the burning Hells."
Word traveled quickly. "I am, though I had the assistance of the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye."
"Impressive nonetheless. You will find many things here which may be of use to you. This scepter, for instance, will help you cleanse yourself of poison."
"That would be useful, but I am in possession of Knell Striker, the weapon of Saint Herven, with which he banished the --"
"Yes, I perceive that you are. Many of the creatures wandering the deserts now are the bodies of our ancestors, raised by evil spirits. The weapon you hold should be very useful. But poisonous insects are also common, and many of the living dead were embalmed with chemicals which make their touch poisonous."
Thaddeus could cure himself of poison, or visit Lysander's shop. Would visiting Lysander be safe? Probably not, but Knell Striker was such a wonderful gift, Thaddeus was reluctant to replace it. "That does sound dangerous. Carrying antidote potions with me would be wise, when moving against such foes."
Perhaps a bit miffed, Drognan nodded. "As you see fit."
"What do you know of the wanderer from the west, who came here 4 days ago?"
"He was very tall, had broad shoulders, came wrapped in a long cloak, and kept his face and body hidden from view. Of me, he asked the location of Tal Rasha's Tomb, and I told him rightly that I did not know, that no one knew anymore. He left the city, and I know nothing more of him or his travels."
They looked at each other. Thaddeus could tell Drognan suspected the wanderer's true nature, and he wasn't going to say what he thought to a stranger. The word of a Paladin means little to wizards, though history has shown magicians to be far less trustworthy where demons are concerned. "Thank you, great wizard. I shall remember your words."

Atma's tavern was just south of Drognan's shop. It was a large building, nearly the size of the palace; Thaddeus wondered how a drinking place could merit such a priority among the city's establishments. There wasn't a church in town. Inside, a dozen people sat at tables, drinking and playing with dice and cards. It wasn't much later than noon. At the back of the tavern, a beautiful young woman in very revealing clothing was standing next to a curtain which separated a small private area from the rest of the tavern. A door behind the bar led to a circular tower, perhaps the owner's living quarters. As Thaddeus looked around, with everyone in the tavern staring at him, a middle-aged woman in black came out of the door.

"Hello," she said. "Are you the one who came through the pass to the west?"
"Many have come through that pass," Thaddeus said suspiciously. "If you mean am I the one who banished the demon Andariel, yes. How may I help you?"
"If you could do that, you can help me. Excuse me. I am Atma. My husband and I used to run this tavern."
"Your husband?"
"Yes, my husband and son. A horrible thing has invaded the city sewers. It used to stalk the city at night, kidnapping and killing, until Greiz and his men bottled it up down there. But they were unable to kill it. My family was among its victims."
Thaddeus nodded. So, the city was under attack on two fronts, from without and from beneath. No wonder Jerhyn hired Greiz. "Then the sewers are where I must go next. They should be easier to explore than the desert outside."
"I hesitate to ask this of you. I do not think you would approve."
"There is a threat to the people of this city, which must be dealt with. If I could do so without killing the thing, I would do so, but that may not be possible."
"I want you to kill it. I want it to suffer like I have."
Thaddeus slowly nodded. "It may not be possible to make it suffer. Tell me..." Thaddeus gestured to the young woman at the back, and in a low voice, asked, "Why is she here?"
Atma looked at her for a moment. "She is my cook. The kitchens are back there."
"Ah, thank you. I had wondered, as I did not smell any food."
"Lunch hour hasn't begun yet. She will be busy soon. Won't you?" The woman nodded to Atma, and disappeared into the back.

Perhaps I am growing too suspicious, Thaddeus thought as he left. The way that woman had been standing there, next to the relative privacy of that curtained-off area, he really wondered just what she was doing. She certainly didn't look like a cook, they wear aprons. Well, maybe she hadn't put hers on yet. The way she was dressed wasn't unusual for the city of Lut Gholein, there was no cause to wonder. Even if there was, what was he going to say? He was here on a mission to save their bodies, not just their souls.

Chapter 9

After this, at the Abbey of St. Maccabee, A great multitude of the dead rose up, as the Prophecy had warned. Baham died of his wounds, None was there to save them. Ghrab Thaar Was there, mighty weapon of the holy saint. The hungering dead came there, despoiling all. The blessed relic was kept by destroying it in fire, With all who were there, to keep their bodies From the corruption of the fearless dead. Faith And their sacrifice lay waste to countless legions, And the blessing went out into the whole world.

    -- Chronicles of Zakarum, c. 30, v. 10-21

Where they emptied into the bay, the sewers' main outlet was at the bottom of a small catwalk. Thaddeus noted that none of the ships would moor near it, and the people on the docks wouldn't come close. One of Greiz's guards stood nearby, and even he didn't look happy. Looking down at the narrow entrance, Thaddeus thought he heard strange noises, but wasn't sure if it wasn't just the flow of filth washing out.

  "You looking for something?" the mercenary guard asked.
  "A monster.  I have been told one is down there."
  The guard laughed mirthlessly.  "I'm supposed to stop you from going in, you know.  If you want to, it's your funeral.  Probably won't be one, though."
  "Others have entered before this?"
  "Every now and then, some idiot grabs a pigsticker and tries to play hero.  Sometimes we find the bodies in the bay, with pieces missing."
  "Eaten away?"
  "Cut up with a sharp knife.  One was skinned."
  Thaddeus nodded.  An intelligent monster, then.  "Will you stop me?"
  "Hey, anybody wants to be stupid, I figure: let 'em."
  "A simple philosophy.  Experience is the best teacher, and very harsh for students unable to grasp her lessons.  I will see you in a little while."

Marching in against the flow of the city's ordure, Thaddeus wrinkled his nose in disgust. His usual habits of cleanliness were sorely tested back in the pass, but this was even worse. Deeper in the sewers, a platform beside the main stream allowed him to walk up out of the sewage. About this time, the first fiery arrow whizzed past his head. Up ahead, visible by the light of their own burning bones, was a group of skeletal archers, mechanically firing arrow after burning arrow. The Burning Dead are one of Diablo's favorite troops. Not very powerful, it is easy for him to animate many of them at a time. The Burning Dead are more dangerous than unenhanced Skeletons in combat, and by tapping into the primal fear of fire, even more terrifying to those who behold them. The flames that flicker over those dead bones grant them some resistance to extreme temperature changes, but they are still very vulnerable to being broken apart with a club.

The upper levels of the sewers were full of Burning Dead, as well as some strange tall man-like creatures with four arms. In each hand, they carried long blades made of some very sharp crystal, but they were quite cowardly. After clearing the sewers, Thaddeus found an entrance to a deeper level. While he was not an architect, he did wonder why a sewer would need more than one level. His equipment had also taken some damage from smashing through all those dry bones. As he took a moment to clean up, it occurred to him that he hadn't seen a smith in town. Surely, a city this size had to have at least one.

In the market square, in a section he hadn't looked in, Thaddeus found a smithy. All the excitement at Lysander's had distracted him, so he hadn't seen it. The smith wasn't there at the moment. Cain was standing by the square's well; the old man insisted on accompanying Thaddeus across the desert, despite the danger. If he was guilty about surviving Tristram's fall when everyone else died, he shouldn't have been, and the Rogues would have been glad to shelter him in their monastery. But Cain was sure he could somehow be of service, and Thaddeus didn't have the heart to refuse him. At least, unlike a hired bodyguard, Thaddeus could be sure he would stay in town where it was mostly safe.

"Hello, Cain. Is the smith out at lunch?"
"No, she left just before you arrived. A strange woman."
A woman? Almost all smiths are men; to find two female ones in short order was very strange. With Charsi, it wasn't so surprising; the Rogues are all women. Besides, she was the beefiest girl he'd ever seen. "She's like Charsi, then?"
"Not in any way I can see," Cain frowned. "A slender woman, with long red hair she does not tie back, and no apron to protect her clothing. I did speak with her; an aura of sadness hangs over her, deeper than I might expect from a lonely desert maiden."
Curiouser and curiouser. Not that Thaddeus suspected anything wrong; there just seemed to be a lot of inexplicable things going on in this city. "Is there another smith? I would like to have some work done."
"There does not seem to be. Most of the merchants here sell clothing, earthenware, jewelry, and other such things. Ah, there she is now!"
Thaddeus looked behind him. A red-haired woman was peering around the corner of the smithy. She startled when he looked at her, then came out into view; Thaddeus would have sworn she looked guilty. Or embarrassed? "Hello. Please, don't be alarmed."
"Hello, brother. I am not afraid. I was just... coming back from... where I was."
Brother? "I was hoping you would repair my worn equipment."
Fara nodded, and Thaddeus handed her the Umbral Disk, scratched from the impact of many fiery arrows. She obviously recognized it, and handled it with reverence. "This is an item of great power. You must be an important man."
Thaddeus watched as she went to work. She was far less bulky than Charsi, but her long arms were deceptively strong. So careful was her work, she never burned her clothing, nor did her long hair get in the way. "I do not think so, sister; I was in a place at a time when I was needed, and was able to rise to the task. How is it that you come to be here, I wonder? I notice you have not asked my name."
"You have not asked mine either."
"Your ways seem... familiar, sister. I do not feel I need to address you by name."
She stopped working, leaning over her anvil. "Is it so obvious?"
"You are a follower of Zakarum, I perceive. You have trained with sword and shield. Even in your craft, you work with care and precision."
She kept her back to him, staring at the filthy floor of her smithy. "My name is Fara. Once I was a Paladin, in the east. Your name is known to everyone in the city."
"You have come from Kurast?" Thaddeus asked.
"Yes. A few years ago."
"How fares the church, in Kurast? Very little has been heard in the west."
Fara paused before answering. "The church stood, when last I saw it. Any further word does not reach us here."
The Protectors split away years ago, objecting to the growing intolerance and brutality infecting the church. Khanduras might not receive news, but surely Lut Gholein would see travelers from Kurast. "You do not go to see the ships from Kurast?"
"Ships do not come from Kurast. Nothing does anymore."
Thaddeus slowly nodded. "Except a few who escape?"
Fara did not answer. As she went back to work on the shield, Thaddeus saw a teardrop fall on the iron. "Much has changed in the east, but it take too long to describe it all."

Pressing the matter seemed pointless, for now. Thaddeus had his things repaired, paid Fara, and went back to the sewers. In the third level below the city, groups of preserved bodies shambled about, and Skeleton Mages cast fiery bolts at him. They were joined by packs of cat people, wielding whips and curved knives. How did these creatures get into the sewers under the city? Especially the cat people; surely, they needed to eat. Hmm... it might explain why not all the "heroes" who went into the sewers came out again. He'd seen a body or two, here and there, but not many.

Outside an empty sewer node, Thaddeus ran across a pack of blackened Horrors. These are Skeletons so burnt and baked by heat and electricity, they are nearly immune to the natural elements. They're still vulnerable to being bashed to bits with a club, though. The first one Thaddeus took down brought faint laughter echoing into the tunnels. Dark tendrils of magic swirled out, the bones swirled up into their former shape, and attacked again. Something back there, probably the "monster" Atma spoke of, could resurrect fallen minions. Shamans can be so annoying. Thaddeus knew the drill; fade back, striking down underlings a few at a time, then move around them and charge the shaman.

Fortunately, the sewer node was well lit, with several lamps. Thaddeus saw the monster, and the rest of its entourage, well before he was committed to his attack. The thing was some kind of undead, made of a patchwork of parts. The bones were human, mostly, bound together with longer animal bones, increasing the thing's height. Dried flesh clung to the bones, except in places where the skin looked much, much fresher. Behind it were a dozen more Skeletons, including several mages. As one, they all began casting bolts of elemental energy, while the monster hurled bolts of black negative force.

Looking over the situation, Thaddeus decided a straight charge might not be his best option. Thinning the herd would be a more sensible approach. Turning around, Thaddeus stumbled back out of the node, loudly gasping with pain at every magical bolt. Retreating to a corner, he waited out of sight as the Skeletons came to get him. All shamans have to see their dead underlings to raise them. After a short while, Thaddeus felt the situation would be easier to manage, so he charged back in and hit the thing hard, smashing it back into the wall.

Despite its patchwork nature, the monster was surprisingly sturdy. Its leathery flesh was sewn together with sturdy wire and layers or reinforcing magic. In addition to spells, it could also gasp out the powdery remnants of its dried-up lungs; the tissue was full of poisonous chemicals. Even after snapping in half from many repeated blows, it kept moving; Thaddeus had to crush every bit of it to lay it to rest. This thing was like nothing Thaddeus had ever heard of from Hell; obviously, it was made from pieces of many dead creatures, joined and infused with unholy life. Perhaps it was something new to the world; he would have to write more letters to his order describing it.

In the monster's lair, Thaddeus found pieces of human bodies: organs, bones, and muscles all sliced out with surgical precision. Next to a worktable soaked with gore, a suit made from a haphazard collection of human skins hung from the ceiling, not quite complete. The sight was chilling, both for the materials, and the implications. This leathery covering wouldn't fool anyone into thinking the monster was a man; its height alone precluded that. Did the thing want to walk among humanity? Thaddeus looked around some more. It had a library, full of tomes from the era of the Horadrim. The owner had written his name on the endpapers of many of the volumes: Radament. Thaddeus took all the books and scrolls with him when he went back up to the city. And the thing's head.

Everyone was glad to see Thaddeus, and know the thing was dead. Jerhyn was pleased and relieved; the monster had obviously been a great worry to him. Atma was very glad, but Thaddeus tried not to pay her joy much mind. When something has to die, it is best to kill it quickly and not gloat; no good comes from that. Cain told Thaddeus that the Horadrim used to "mummify" their dead. Mummification was traditional in this area; the body was prepared with poisonous preservatives, and could remain inviolate in a dry tomb for centuries. Part of the Horadrim "mummification" process incorporated parts of animals and magical amulets into the body, to increase the power of the undead being they were creating. That way, Cain explained, the dead mage would be able to guard his own tomb against invaders. The sewer monster was probably Radament, an ancient Horadrim mage, but he was far away from his own tomb. Why he had come to the sewers, and what he was doing with all those body parts, was a complete mystery.

Thaddeus was deeply shocked. Deliberately making an undead creature was the sheerest folly; making it as powerful as possible only compounded the error. Yet, no one in the city seemed to think anything of it. Drognan even outlined his own mummification wishes in his will. In complete disbelief, Thaddeus even went so far as to ask one of the drunken sots in Atma's tavern his opinion of the old tradition.

  "Oh, I dunno," the huge, slovenly brute said.  "I don't like all that living dead stuff."
  "Exactly!  Why on earth do you make such creatures, and consider it an act of reverence for the dead?"
  "No, you got it all right!  All wrong, I mean.  They're our anshest... our incestors... our foreborers... our parents.  They're not gonna hurt us."
  "The living dead certainly are attacking the living," Thaddeus reminded him.
  The sot made a sputtering noise.  "Scary, huh?  Our incestors have fallen."
  Thaddeus nodded.  "They've been calling the monster 'Radament the Fallen.'"
  "Dunno why.  I've fallen lots of times, and they never call me 'Geglash the Fallen.'  Maybe they say, 'Geglash!  You've fallen!'  But I can figure that out for myself.  Sometimes."
  Arguing against ancient, respected customs is rarely fruitful.  Particularly when you try to argue with someone whose mind wanders this much.  "Many ancient practices must have seemed harmless, in their day.  I'll leave you to your drinking now.  Try not to have too much, Atma may need you to throw someone through a window tonight."
  "Oh, I do that better when I'm drunk!  When I'm sober, I always remember to check if the shutters are open first, and sometimes they get away."

Talking with a fool is folly. They lower the conversation to their level, then outmatch you with their greater experience. The sewers were empty; clearing them took all afternoon and into the evening. Before long, it would be dark, and Thaddeus would rather start his search for Diablo in daylight. Besides, the books from Radament's lair intrigued him. Cain had quickly borrowed them; he'd read anything, but those dusty tomes practically made him salivate. Most of the books looked like the usual tomes of science and magic, but Thaddeus had seen a few that looked like religious texts.

The first was a Skatsimi text, with the references to the undead circled and notes made in the margins. Radament obviously had been looking for useful information, not enlightenment. The next was an early copy of the Chronicles of Zakarum; glancing through it, Thaddeus saw the text was not quite the same as the version he had studied with. Had there been errors of copying? He'd have to save it, and get it to his order for study. The third book was a real find, something he never expected to see; a book thought to be lost, all known copies destroyed. There, in his hands, was a copy of Saint Maccabee's Book of the Hammer. The text outlined the way of the Hammer, one of the most spiritually demanding paths a warrior of the light could follow. In ages past, Hammer Paladins were the mightiest of all who fought for the church of Zakarum, drawing on the power of Ghrab Thaar, Saint Maccabee's mighty hammer. Having this holy book come to him, at such a time, amazed Thaddeus. Could this possibly be a sign?

Chapter 10

Praises be to the Light eternal! We build, protect, and honor. The hammer on the chisel Shapes the stone for the wall. The hammer against the nail Holds the beam o'er the child. Blessed Hammer, from my hand, Move against the foes of light!

    -- The Book of the Hammer, c. 1, v. 1-8

Holding the precious volume, Thaddeus wondered if he should read it. It would be a terrible thing if he were to damage it accidentally. While he was always careful with books, this one was very old, and the pages might tear easily. On the other hand, the desert's dry heat can preserve things in good condition for centuries... the book might not be any more fragile now than the day it was made. But on the first hand, this book might be the last of its kind, and the knowledge within irreplaceable. Risking it would be unconscionable, and his responsibility would be to find an absolutely safe place for it, then tell the Protectors.

  As he sat there, staring at the book's cover, Cain glanced over from his chosen text.  "You seem to have found something interesting."
  "This is a piece of Zakarumite scripture, thought to be lost."
  "Ah!" Cain said, glancing at the cover. "The Book of the Hammer.  A rarity indeed!  There must be all manner of interesting things hidden in Lut Gholein's many ancient tombs."
  "This may be the last copy in the world.  I would love to read it."
  Cain laughed.  "You will not damage it.  Radament's tomb has kept these books very well.  Go ahead.  A book is meant to be read!"

One of Thaddeus' teachers told him that when faced with a quandary, go to a holy book and open it at random. Meditate on the first passage of scripture your eyes light upon. That will usually resolve your dilemma. Here was a holy book. The pages did not feel brittle; it would not fall apart if he opened it once. Casually, he opened it, and his eyes found: "To use thy chisel blunts its edge. Not to use it wastes its edge utterly." Things are meant to be used. Even a relic like Knell Striker is valuable only in use. Left in a cathedral reliquary, the finest scepter might as well be nothing but sticks and lead. Cain was right; a book is meant to be read. That is its use.

However, he should not be the only one to read this book. Chisels can be resharpened, but the Book of the Hammer contains knowledge, which cannot be discovered again so easily. Before starting into the text, Thaddeus drafted letters, one to Akara, telling her he had arrived safely and of his discovery, and another to the head of his order, with more detail about the book. Across town, Warriv was buying raw iron and steel, hides for leather, and other raw materials the Rogues could use.

  "Ah, hello there!" Warriv smiled.  "I'll be returning after I've made some purchases, to outfit the Rogues more properly.   Just let me know if you want to tag along."
  "I would be indebted if you would carry my words with you," Thaddeus said, entrusting the letters to him.  "I have made what may be an important discovery."
  "So soon?  No wonder everyone's talking about you!  But after all you did back at the pass, I'm not surprised."
  "Fortune has been with me, but it is best never to rely on it.  If my luck should change, others must be able to follow in my steps.  When will you be leaving?"
  "In a few days.  There are a lot of things the Rogues need.  You know, I've gotten a lot of letters to carry west.  Do you think they've missed us?"

Hopefully, nothing would happen to Warriv on the way back; Thaddeus could not go with him this time. Maybe hiring guards would be a good idea, if they could be spared. The only thing he could do was make sure there were guards to spare, by reducing the threat from outside the walls. In the morning, he would start; the sun had set, it was getting cold and dark, and he didn't want to start exploring the desert at night. Elzix had a rule against burning lights in tenant's rooms; the inn was very old could burn down easily. More likely, he didn't want to risk any of the magic items stored there. For reading, Atma's tavern was well-lit, and things never got too loud or boisterous, so Thaddeus sat down in a back corner to study.

The Book of the Hammer was one of the shortest pieces of scriptures Thaddeus ever read, only 18 pages. Even going through slowly and carefully, he read the whole thing three times before going to sleep. On the surface, the way of the Hammer looked surprisingly simple. The only martial technique was invoking the spiritual hammer, a combination of mana and the diffused energy of Maccabee's Hammer. The description sounded like summoning a Holy Bolt. Unlike Holy Bolts, the spiritual hammer seemed to be an effective offensive weapon, as the Hammerdins of old were some of the greatest fighters the church had. Much of the book was devoted to a rather stern code of conduct the Hammerdins were expected to observe, and some spiritual philosophy. That would need more contemplation; Thaddeus felt he already knew enough to call on the Hammer.

Come morning, Thaddeus prepared his equipment and himself, then sallied forth from Lut Gholein's north gate. At first, all was just flat, rocky wastes, with a few vultures flying high up in the sky, looking for something dead. A short distance from the gates, Thaddeus came upon a large slab of stone, covered with archaic writing, now mostly buried in the desert sands. Near it, half sunken, a gigantic head rested, with a curly beard, conical helm or hat, and a smile of utmost benevolence. The time of these antique things was obviously long past. A dead body, one of Greiz's mercenaries by the look of him, stained the sand next to the head. He wasn't long dead, but none of the vultures had come near him. Strange.

Looking up, Thaddeus saw the vultures coming down. Each one had four legs, as well as wings, and their eyes were locked on him, not the more convenient corpse. Ah, he thought, no wonder; this one's been dead for much too long, they want something fresher. Demonic meddling with living creatures can physical change them in many ways, but the motivations given to the afflicted animals are very predictable. As Thaddeus moved away from the stone head, the vulture demons landed and stalked towards him on foot. Perhaps they were too heavy and ungainly in flight to dive at a victim, unlike the smaller Blood Hawks found in Khanduras. When enough had landed, Thaddeus stopped running, concentrated, and flung his arm out to summon a blessed hammer.

Just as the scripture said, a small bronze hammer spun away from Thaddeus' hand, whirling around his body. As it spun, it moved further away from him, eventually reaching the vulture demons. The spinning hammer smashed through the group of demons, scattering and tossing them before it, before continuing blindly on its way. Eventually, it came around Thaddeus again, but the vultures had moved now, and were inside its arc. He backed up a bit, and let another hammer go; it moved much the same as the first, hitting each vulture at most once before they had moved out of its path. Some it did not hit at all, instead passing on their right, left, before or behind them. Satisfied, Thaddeus beat the vultures to death normally.

Blessed Hammer was indeed powerful; even two hits from the hammer had greatly hurt those vultures, who were fairly tough as demons go. But it spun blindly about, undirected. The random nature of the attack bothered Thaddeus; he valued precision and discipline in war. While he did not expect the hammer to fight for him, he had hoped it would be easier to aim and direct. Perhaps that was why the Hammerdin's path required such stern discipline; the Paladin must choose his position and await the right moment. It is not a sorcerous attack; a sorcerer can simply stand there and unleash blast after blast at his foes. Blessed Hammers would require careful positioning and timing to get the best use of them.

As he moved further into the deserts, Thaddeus experimented with Blessed Hammer. Large rocks would stop the hammer, so it would be useless in narrow areas. Having more than one hammer spinning through an area greatly confused the demons, with so many attacks to try to avoid. The hammers would not harm him, so he could walk through battlefield without worrying about them. Sometimes, Thaddeus could send the hammers spinning and stroll from demon to demon almost unchallenged. But much of the time, Thaddeus did not use the hammers. As he got deeper into the desert, the demons were growing more dangerous, and he was quite unskilled with them. While back in town, Thaddeus stopped to ask Cain about some of the demons, but Cain had something for him first.

"Ah, there you are! I have just found this scroll among the treasures you brought from Radament's lair. This is an important find!"
Thaddeus smiled. Cain thought just about everything was important, or at least worth telling him about for hours. "There is something I wish to ask you about..."
"This is a Horadric scroll!" Cain smiled triumphantly.
"Wasn't Radament a Horadrim mage, so every scroll he had would be a Horadric scroll?"
Cain thought for a moment. "That is most probably true! In fact, the wealth of knowledge you have brought to us with may be the greatest treasure anyone could find! The return of the glories of our past, tempered by the hard experiences suffered since then, could..."
Now that Cain was started, Thaddeus could look at the scroll himself and see what it was without wasting too much time. It was written in glyphs. "Ah, Cain, what is this?"
"... in the 4th decade of the Moon King's rule, so he was... ah? Oh, yes, the scroll! This is a description of Tal Rasha's tomb, where Tal Rasha and Baal are kept imprisoned!"
"There is someone in the tomb with Baal?"
"Don't you know about this?" Cain asked. "You seemed... well-read, I thought."
On secular history, Thaddeus' learning was a bit weak. But if Cain knew that, he'd never hear the end of it. "Cain, what's in the tomb?"
"It says here, that to safeguard the tomb, it can only be opened with a Horadric Staff, the mystical weapon of a great Horadrim mage. There is an inner chamber, you see, where Tal Rasha and Baal were entombed together, to wrestle for all eternity."
Thaddeus vaguely recall hearing about that. "So Diablo could not open the inner chamber without one of these staves? Or could a demon lord as great as Diablo simply smash his way into the chamber by brute force?"
"Well... to use an analogy, the staff is the key for a lock. But many locks can simply be broken. Hmm. Well, the Horadric Staves were all broken centuries ago, to prevent anyone from opening the way to Baal."
"Very sensible."
"However, if Diablo does not need a staff, you might, to reach the inner chamber. If he is there, with no one to challenge him, he will be able to free his brother. If you were find the pieces of a staff, they could be repaired with a Horadric Cube."
That could not be allowed. "A Horadric Cube?"
"An alchemical device, used for transformations and transmutations."
Thaddeus looked at Lysander's shop, still smoking from something unsuccessful he'd done earlier. "Let me guess: most of them have been destroyed over the ages?"
"I fear so." Cain thought for a moment. "Many Horadrim originally came from this area. There may be others entombed here and there. Have you found any tombs yet?"
"Just one, full of the foulest demons and undead creatures. I wanted to ask you about something: I have met groups of humanoid felines, which attacked me. They are in league with the demons, and I do not recall any account of such creatures in the deserts, but their bodies do not seem twisted. They are in their natural shape."
"There are tales of Saber Cats, a species of felinoid men from Kurast. I cannot know how any would come to be in the deserts. Being jungle creatures, they would have difficulty surviving in the barren wastes."
Another creature from Kurast, here where it should not be. "Thank you, Cain. I shall keep an eye out for anything Horadric."

As he trudged across the dunes, Thaddeus began to feel the weight of his armor under the heat of the desert sun. There were oases here and there, with trees he could rest under, but the monsters seemed to congregate there too. The swarms of insects were the worst; they had a way of crawling into the armor with one mind, biting and stinging. Finding a tomb was almost a blessing, even if they were full of undead, more mummies than you could shake a scepter at. The open areas of the tombs gave him ample opportunity to practice with Blessed Hammer; it was very effective against the undead. The hammers smashing through everything but a stone wall helped a little against the big Horadric mummies, who resurrected lesser undead. It was still more efficient to distract the lesser ones and charge the greater; with more practice, Thaddeus was sure he could make better use of the hammers.

This particular tomb complex was extensive and very deep; many of Lut Gholein's citizens must have been entombed here. Sarcophagi were everywhere, ordinary mummified people, others so old they were completely skeletal, and every now and then, one of the Horadric mummies. Whatever creature had donated the bone for their hand scythes, Thaddeus did not want to meet. They must have been three feet long, and sharp. The Horadrim's heads had been replaced with crocodile heads; how did they keep their own brains, Thaddeus wondered? An idle thought; he wasn't about to go over the corpse to find out.

In the darkest deeps of the tombs, fuzzy bats hung from the ceiling. Though strangely cute, these were Lightning Bats, denizens of Hell's outer reaches. One tomb held another surprise: giant beetles, standing the height of a man on two of their six limbs. These creatures were slow moving, but looked very heavily armored and tough. When Thaddeus hit one, lightning spat out; he began to regret neglecting his defensive disciplines, which included resistance to electricity. By backing up, then charging and hitting hard, he was able to knock them down without suffering too much damage himself.

One room in particular was full of the tomb's worst denizens. A group of javelin-hurling Saber Cats, a swarm of bats, and a pack of Horadrim Mummies filled the room. One Horadrim was bad enough; Thaddeus was forced to retreat. A horde of lesser undead came out after him, joined by the cats. Luring them a short distance away to a pillared hallway, he used the pillars to hide from the javelins while smashing the skeletons. The cats were much easier to deal with afterwards; then the bats, and finally the Mummies. Dividing and conquering was as good a strategy as ever. The tomb held a great deal of treasure, as well as a strange box. A cube-shaped box. How curious that Cain should have told him about Horadric Cubes, and he would find this almost immediately.

The box was a Horadric Cube. By pressing two catches on opposite sides of the box, the sides fell away from each other and the box opened into a cross shape. Even though the closed box was no larger than a helm, you could pack swords, long bows, even a spear into the box and close it up again. Watching the objects as they were folded up, then unfolded, was fascinating. They were also protected inside the box: you could put a chunk of granite, a honeycomb, and an egg inside the cube, and nothing would be crushed or befouled by the other things. All sorts of things could be transformed with the cube; three small gemstones could be made into a single larger one; potions could be transmuted. And most important, broken objects could be rejoined into a single whole.

Thaddeus had collected a lot of gemstone chips. They were useful, if placed in equipment socketed to hold them, but bigger gems had stronger effects. Nothing he was using had sockets, but now that he had a few good-quality gems, he might find a use for some new equipment. But when he opened his footlocker, he found something strange. Nothing was missing, Elzix had not come to visit. Someone had added a few things, and a note:

  Your worshipfulness:
  Congratulations on the whole Horadric Cube thing!  Yes, you were meant to find that little item, it will be very helpful for you.  As a kind of reward for being such a good boy, we've decided to hold Christmas early this year!  No need for a midnight mass, but here's a couple of presents.  The scepter isn't perfect, but it's the best we could do.  The shield word is "Ral-Ort-Tal", the Pledge of the Ancient Ones.  You can send your old stuff back with Warriv.  There's a cathedral reliquary that could sure use those shinies.  Good luck with the hammers, they sure are fun, aren't they?
  -- The Mule

Thaddeus was confused. Whence this? That pale fellow called himself a mule, but he sure wasn't in Lut Gholein. Even if he was, how did he know what Thaddeus had been up to? Maybe he was an angel, or other spiritual messenger? That might explain it, but Thaddeus expected angels to have a bit more dignity.

Chapter 11

Be not sad, all those who suffer on this earth, Whose hands are frustrated and see no success. He who is wounded, hands will bind him up. In time of famine, he is redeemed from death. Do not fear wrath or the scourge of the tongue, The scepter shall rise for your defense in war. When evil comes to you, know good may as well And all that was taken away may yet return.

    -- The Book of Radenis, c. 5, v. 17-24

Before doing anything else, Thaddeus took the things he'd found in his footlocker to Cain. A complete analysis failed to turn up anything out of the ordinary -- they were just very nice items, finer than anything he'd yet seen. The scepter was a Monk's War Scepter of Fire, with high bonuses to the skills of Zeal and Blessed Hammer, and an even larger one for the weilder's Concentration. The shield was a Crown Shield, a seldom-seen item only a Paladin can use. Of superior quality, the shield bestowed high resistances to the elements. Three runestones set in the shield, Ral, Ort, and Tal, granted the shield even more resistance and strength. It alone would take care of almost all Thaddeus' resistance needs.

These were wonderful gifts, there was no denying it. All the same, Thaddeus couldn't help but wonder where they'd come from, and why they were given to him. Judging from the tone, the note must come from the same man who'd given him the Sparkling Mail; obviously he was far more powerful and knowledgeable than he'd let on at first. As far as he could remember, Thaddeus hadn't told anyone he'd been experimenting with Blessed Hammer. Cain knew, he'd seen the book, but didn't know anything about Thaddeus' benefactor. Perhaps this was a blessing from above, by an unexpected messenger. All the angels he'd heard of in legends sounded quite different, but this might be a lesser celestial being.

Or possibly... an infernal being? Thaddeus could see nothing wrong with the items, no hidden spirits or unseeen traps. Perhaps Fara could help. He'd been looking for a chance to speak with her again, and this would be an excellent opportunity.

"Hello, Fara. May I ask your opinion about some things?"
"I would be honored."
"This War Scepter came to me, and this shield. Have you seen such things before?"
Slowly, Fara examined them, then shook her head. "Not in this part of the world. When I was in Kehjistan..."
For a long moment, she was silent. Whenever the lands across the Twin Seas came up, Fara tended to go quiet. Sensing that she wouldn't be ready to talk about it yet, Thaddeus said, "I wondered if there was anything wrong with them."
"I cannot see anything. The shield is a wonder, a great rarity. This scepter I would consider adequate at best; you could find better."
"What do you mean? It seems quite a good weapon to me."
Fara smiled a bit. "This scepter increases your skills, but those you gain the most in are not the best. There are few other advantages to using it as a weapon."
Thaddeus nodded. "I would think Blessed Hammer, and Concentration, very useful skills, and of great value."
"When I went forth with the Hand of Zakarum, the blessing of the light I found most useful was Fanaticism. Calling up the vengeful spirits of Paladins past is far superior to simple zeal. And while this scepter is quick in the hand, I always favored the sword or lance."
"Charging with a great spear is a devastating attack."
"Absolutely." Combat and weapons seemed to be a safe subject; Fara was starting to open up. "No one calls on the Hammers of Maccabee anymore. In ages past, all Paladins were masters of concentration, and the Hammers were very powerful. Now, all you will find are fanatics, who strike with the speed and vigor born of unthinking certainty."
"Must fanaticism cloud the mind?" Thaddeus inquired.
"It often does." Fara's eyes were flashing, her voice rising as she spoke. "The weakness of concentration is that you must be sure of what you concentrate upon. It is a great help for you and others, but it is slow. A fanatical warrior is a frightening opponent; it makes combat quicker, and easier. After all, our goal is to deal with the enemy quickly, yes?"
"Yes...?"
"Yes! There is no need to think of who we were striking down, of what crimes they are accused. Fanaticism is the enemy of thought -- flail away at whatever moves, as you are instructed. For those who survive, death comes more slowly, but there is no need to worry about that either. They are possessed by..." Suddenly Fara stopped, and dropped her head to stare at the floor, her face flushing nearly as red as her hair.
"Yes, well..." Thaddeus shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Surely, even a fanatic has calmer moments, and may consider their actions while at peace."
Returning to examining the shield, Fara nodded. "But some avoid it, even when they can, lest they come to realize just what they are doing. This shield is very impressive; it would be difficult to find its better. The scepter will serve. Where did you find them?"
"In my room. Someone left them for me."
Fara blinked with surprise. "These are very valuable things. I could not begin to pay you what they are worth. They were simply given to you?"
"Yes," Thaddeus shrugged. "By a pale, thin man, who I had seen earlier, I believe. He also gave me the Sparkling Mail, which I now wear."
"I had noticed," Fara said, staring. "I have not seen this man here in Lut Gholein."
"I suspect he has not actually been here."
"Then how did he place these in your room?"
Thaddeus shrugged. "It is a mystery. That is why I wished your opinion."
Slowly, Fara nodded. "Perhaps you have been favored by a higher power."
"I have wondered, but worried more that I might be misled by a false light."
"But no one has tried to dissuade you from your quest?"
"I have been given tools, and knowledge of ages past to help me. Perhaps they were given with the intention of distracting me, encouraging greed or pride in my heart. The ways of Hell can be subtle; is evil ever more seductive than when it is useful?"
"Yes," Fara said. "When evil gives you the goal you put your life towards."

That was a disturbing idea, Thaddeus thought as he returned to the desert. Something truly terrible must have happened to the Hand of Zakarum. To judge from what Fara said, a new fanaticism that had overtaken the Paladins there, and much suffering resulted. The order of Protectors guessed as much, especially when no word came from the east for years. But Fara had come from the east more recently, and from what she said, there was evil there... giving her the goal she put her life towards? Shuddering, Thaddeus strode out through the dunes towards a large oasis. The Protectors saw the service of man and the Light differently than the Hand of Zakarum, but surely evil could not take hold among them.

As he approached a pool of stagnant water, tight swarms of biting flies come to meet him, as well as a crowd of vultures. The vultures were green and dried out; Thaddeus was sure they had eaten nothing but undead flesh, or were already dead themselves. His new scepter should greatly increase the power of the Blessed Hammer, so he set a few hammers whirling, moving a few steps to unleash each from a different spot. The bronze hammers spun and spiraled out, blasting through the insect swarms and striking the vultures dead on the spot. Very shortly, Thaddeus was surrounded by corpses; he never needed to raise his hand to any of them.

Throughout the oasis, the story was much the same. Demons come out. The hammers ring around him. The demons all fall down dead. Clearing the oasis went very quickly, except for a ruined house whose walls stopped the hammers. Inside, a group of Lightning Scarabs laired, and their chief was resistant to magic. This made the hammers far less useful, so Thaddeus lured them out and killed them with a series of charges. Bouncing from one to another, Thaddeus kept them separated, avoiding the lightning and preventing them from coordinating their attacks until all were dead. It was all so easy. Once, he caught himself thinking, 'Yea, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death, I shall not fear evil, because I am the most dangerous bastard in the whole valley.' Now, what would the other Paladins think of that?

Soon, the oasis was empty of life, even unlife, apart from Thaddeus and whatever innocent animals had survived the demonic occupation. Even the scorpions seemed pleased to see them gone. All that was left was a round hole in the sand, leading to a tunnel. The tunnel sides were sand cemented together with some kind of slime. The result was almost as strong as stone, so the narrow tunnel could go very deep into the ground. Thaddeus thought about certain insects he'd seen, which dig a hole, then dart out to attack passing prey. Nothing leapt out as he approached the hole, so he went inside.

The first thing Thaddeus found in the tunnels was a human body, thoroughly covered with slime, cemented to the floor. It seemed to be dissolving, like the slime was digesting it. This was not a sign of anything good. As he ventured into the tunnels, he had to crawl on hands and knees, the ceiling was so low. Down here, the hammers would do him little good; there was no room for them to spin. He'd have to rely on his new scepter exclusively as a weapon. After a short distance, he found one of the things that made the tunnels: a gigantic insect, easily 10 feet long, with legs everywhere and a fat body covered with chitinous plates as hard as stone. It spat a stream of poisonous slime, then retreated to cover a group of pulsing, throbbing eggs with its body.

There could be no doubt about identifying this thing. Accounts of Hell had mentioned them many times, horrible things called Maggots. The eggs they lay mature with unnatural speed, hatching into ferociously hungry young. The mother creature, meanwhile, busies herself laying more eggs. The horde one mother can produce will quickly overrun many opponents, if she and her eggs are not dealt with. The tunnel conformed to the Maggot's body shape: low but wide. Thaddeus barely had enough room to swing his weapon; any narrower or lower, and killing it would have required a spear. Before it died, the eggs hatched into small Maggots. They took longer to kill, but at least they were too young to be poisonous.

Back in Lut Gholein, Atma told him that the Maggots were not creatures from Hell, just large but common desert creatures. Before the troubles begain, they had not been so big, vicious, or venomous, and were easily tamed. Farms used to raise small herds of them, making their eggs into a nutritious paste that was mixed into vegetable soups to enhance the flavor. But over the last few weeks, all the Maggots had grown huge, and many killed their keepers. Their flesh was now corrosive, and unfit to eat.

  "Are you sure you should be doing this?" Atma asked.
  "Absolutely.  These creatures are mentioned in the annals of explorers who visited the burning hells, though I cannot account for their peaceful presence here."
  "They have always been here," Atma said.  "One of the few good things to come out of the desert.  This is not a productive land, otherwise."
  "I'll tell ya," Geglash interrupted, "Bug soup's the besht hangover cure there ish.  Well... maybe shecond best.  The besht is gettin' drunk again!  Ya know, hare uva dog what bit ya.  Dunno why dog hare, I don' like rabbit or dog..."
  Thaddeus pointed in a random direction.  "Geglash, look!  It's Bigfoot!"
  "Whaa?  Where?!"  Geglash left to look around the tavern.
  "Forgive him," Atma said.  "With the city in the trouble it is, he has taken to drinking more than his usual."
  "I am sorry, I should be more patient," Thaddeus sighed. "I wonder, if there might be some infernal species of maggot, which is influencing the mundane ones?"
  "Are there hellish versions of common animals, then?"
  "Some are known to me.  I will keep looking.  As for you, you may want to water Geglash's drinks more than you do."
  Atma smiled. "I water everyone's drinks, these days.  Though it may not be a kindness."

Of course his advice had been unnecessary. Years of experience no doubt told Atma exactly how much Geglash should have. Still, his behavior was worrying. Geglash was unlikely to be dangerous, but distractibility and clouded judgment can be trouble even in a peaceful place. Especially in someone that big.

Deeper in the Maggot's lair, insect swarms and Lightning Scarabs filled the tunnels. Were these things coming up from the depths too? The swarms could deal with the tunnels easily, but the beetles had to crawl, and weren't very good at it. A hard-hitting charge was out of the question in the narrow tunnels, so Thaddeus beat the beetles to death by calling on the vengeful spirits of Protectors past. It was, as Fara noted, an effective maneuver.

At the bottom of the lair, a huge chamber held what Thaddeus suspected all along: a Maggot queen. The bloated creature might once have been an ordinary mundane Maggot, but Hell's poison filled its distended body now, apparently through pulsing tendrils snaking into its body from the earth. Its chamber held at least a dozen Maggots and their young. The monstrous queen was so engorged with venom it couldn't move, not even to lift its head to spit. Its offspring, however, defended it with a frenzy of spitting and egg-laying. Thaddeus tried to charge in, but a horde of young Maggots blocked him. Laying about with great zeal, he flailed right and left through a rain of corrosive spittle, smashing Maggot young and any adult foolish enough to come within reach.

His new shield made him almost immune to the creature's venom, and the waves of Maggot young were easily killed; there were just so many of them, it was almost impossible to reach the queen. Pushing in through heaps of crushed bodies, Thaddeus started releasing hammers into the chamber, driving deeper as the way was cleared. Soon he was casting Blessed Hammer from right next to the queen; they tore through it and its offspring easily. One last Maggot hid in a far corner, next to a chest. Once it was taken care of, Thaddeus killed the queen, his scepter crunching into it repeatedly. It died squealing hellishly, its remaining life spraying out in an explosion of icy-cold, venomous slime.

Thaddeus was completely, thoroughly beslubbered with half-frozen corrosive ichor. It was almost enough to make him vomit himself. For once, he didn't even try to clean up before going back to town. It took a rinse in the ocean to get it all off; several fish died. The queen had collected some magical items in its lair, all in that chest. Strangely intelligent of it... but Thaddeus was more grateful that the chest had protected its contents from the corrosive venom. In the chest was a broken staff, its headpiece snapped off. Cain identified it as the Staff of Kings, a Horadric staff. He was very happy to see it, but Thaddeus only frowned again. Once again, something he needed just happened to turn up, in the last place he would have looked for it. Perhaps it was fate, or an unseen hand guiding him to some goal, but he was beginning to grow very suspicious.

Going back to the inn, turning over the day's events in his mind, Thaddeus opened the door and found... something new in his room. Again. A gleaming set of gothic plate stood on a rack next to his footlocker. Two runes were set in the breastplate, and a note was stuffed under the pauldron.

Master Cleanliness-is-next-to-holiness,

  Gross!  And to think of what that salt water can do to chainmail, too.  You're doing just fine, but here's something to help you on your new career path.  The runeword is "stealth."  Don't worry, it's got nothing to do with sneakiness, it's just something to help with casting spells.  Let those hammers spin, dude!
  - The Mule

Chapter 12

The wicked go astray from their birth And speak like the venom of serpents. Deliver us from these enemies! By night They come prowling about the city, Cursing and trapped in their lies, Consumed in their pride and wrath. Let only sweet peace come at night, Rest for all who labor long and truly. The upright rejoice in their faithfulness, And sing in the goodness of their houses Which the wicked try to steal by deceit.

    -- Visions of Akarat, c. 58, v. 1-11

For a long while, Thaddeus stared at the armor. Then he went to have a talk with Elzix.

"Elzix, has anyone been in my room?"
"Of course not," Elzix smiled. "The privacy of my lodgers is very important. Something missing?"
"No, something that shouldn't be there is."
"Are we getting those damn black scorpions in the rooms again?"
"No, it's a suit of plate armor, enchanted with runes, very well-suited to my needs."
"Sounds like your lucky day," Elzix's smile faded, his one eye blinking in confusion. "What's wrong with that?"
"Absolutely nothing, except that I do not know where it came from. Anything that works in hiding is not to be trusted."
Elzix shrugged. "That's why I believe in complete openness and honesty. Won't catch me trying to hide anything, except the enchantments on the stuff I offer to gamble."
Thaddeus knew of Elzix's gambling, expensive risks he offered for enchanted items. He kept a display of them in his window, claiming they had all been accidentally left behind by former lodgers. Thaddeus had his doubts. "Such heavy armor is not suitable for this climate, anyway. The metal will heat up intolerably in the sun, and I do not have a surcoat which would fit over it."
"Hey, I got an old surcoat back here." Elzix held up a broad piece of cloth, white with red trim. Decorating the front and back were two symbols: a blazing star of golden light, and beneath it, a deep red hammer. "I'll give it to you free for one gamble. What do you say?"
Thaddeus stared at the cloth. Then he looked in the window. Right there in front, a huge sledgehammer gleamed dully in the lamplight. A hammer. "How about that maul?"
"Damn. That's one of the decent ones." Elzix handed over the maul, a Maul of the Leech, and draped the surcoat over Thaddeus' head. "Doesn't look that bad on you."
Thaddeus silently stared at the surcoat, the maul, his shield, the scepter, and back up at his room. "Excuse me." He got the armor, and dragged the whole bundle over to Cain.

Cain seemed to have turned in for the night, as was sensible. Knowing full well he shouldn't go around waking people, Thaddeus pounded on the door of Fara's smithy until she finally answered. "Fara, tell me, what is this?"

  Blinking sleepily, holding her nightshirt closed, Fara looked at the armor.  "Socketed Gothic Plate, set with the runeword 'Stealth', excellent for a spellcaster, but no resistances..."
  "No, I know that!  What was it doing in my room?"
  "Even if I could tell you, I could not tell you at this hour.  What time is it?"
  Thaddeus sighed.  "It is late.  I am sorry I woke you.  My mind is troubled."
  "It seems so.  If it worries you, leave it here.  I will examine it in the morning."

After setting the armor and maul inside Fara's, Thaddeus returned to the inn. But he couldn't sleep. So far, things were going very easily for him in Lut Gholein. But he had no idea where Diablo was. Events were guiding him onto another path: finding the tomb of Tal Rasha, and opening it, leading the way to Baal. His quest was to locate Diablo, not to find Baal or open the way to him. As far as the world was concerned, Baal could stay lost forever. Baal was doing no harm lost, but might if found. And one of the things pushing him onto this alternate path was the gifts of the Mule.

Sometime close to midnight, Thaddeus stopped trying to sleep, and went to search the city. The Mule, or even anyone like him, was nowhere to be found. The city at night was full of things he hadn't seen by daylight, though. A few houses rang with song and laughter, their lights shining in the night. The women dressed even more daringly than by day, if that were possible. A few walked about the marketplace, though all the shops were long closed; others stood on nearby street corners. The rest of the city, from the dockside to the palace, was dark and quiet. It was strange for the palace to be so dark, Thaddeus thought. Even at this hour, there ought to be a few servants at work, unless they still hadn't returned.

Perhaps the Mule, if he was in Lut Gholein, was not to be found on dark streets and alleys. The houses, where many people had gathered, might be more to his tastes. The first one Thaddeus visited was a shock for him. What kind of party was this? The floor was littered with empty wine bottles, and men and women freely mingled, singing obscene songs. No one noticed him at the door, so Thaddeus took a quick look around and left. No one who looked like the Mule was there; if he was there, he was in some deeper part of the house Thaddeus would not enter.

As he stepped away, a voice said. "Hi, Mr. Green-Jeans! Don't see anything you like?"

Thaddeus looked around. Apparently, someone had seen him; a young woman, clad mostly in her reputation, stood smiling in the doorway. "I'll bet you do now."
"Yes, very nice," Thaddeus stammered. "Excuse me, I am looking for someone."
"I'm looking for someone too."
"No, I'm trying to find somebody."
"This is some body, isn't it?" She laughed, showing herself off indecently. "What's the matter, baby? Is it your first time?"
His face flushing, Thaddeus sputtered, "You're a bold one!"
"You don't know the half of it. Come on! It's too cold to be wandering the streets. You need a warm bed and some company."
Thaddeus hissed, "If you were wearing something decent, even one thing, it wouldn't seem so cold! Just what are you doing in there, awake in drunken debauchery at this hour? Does your family know where you are, or what you're doing?"
Standing up straight, the woman answered, "Oh. You're that Paladin, aren't you? I didn't recognize you without your helmet."
"Yes, I am that Paladin, young lady. And you haven't answered my question."
She ignored him, coolly looking him over. "You should wear the helmet. You have a really funny-shaped head."
Thaddeus' eyes narrowed. "If we're going to talk about strangely-shaped body parts, you really ought to wear more on your chest, and not just because of the cold."
She gasped, almost believably. "There is nothing wrong with me!"
Raising an eyebrow, Thaddeus stared pointedly at her. "So you're smuggling two olives out of the house? Whatever, madam. Enjoy your night."

Despite all further searching, the Mule was nowhere to be found. Exhausted, Thaddeus went to bed, and woke up late the next morning. Fara had already examined the armor and the maul, setting them to one side in her shop.

"Good morning," she said as Thaddeus dragged himself in. "Did you sleep well?"
After a few muttered imprecations, Thaddeus shook his head. "No. I couldn't sleep at all most of the night."
Silently, Fara nodded. "The things you brought me appear to be perfectly ordinary. Are they more gifts from your unknown friend?"
"Yes. Worry is gnawing at me. My benefactor operates in hiding, and I fear I am losing track of my quest. Events have distracted me to another path."
"You feel suspicious about the origin of these things. It concerns you greatly."
Thaddeus glared at Fara. "Shouldn't it?"
"Of course it should. But I think you may be responding improperly."
"And how should I respond when pushed onto a certain path, by one whose motives are kept hidden from me?" Thaddeus kicked the maul, knocking it over. "When I am told I need a certain staff, I immediately find a certain staff. A piece of scripture comes to me, telling me of a path to great power, and tools suited to that path begin to appear out of nowhere. What am I to think of this?"
Patiently, Fara set the maul upright. "Perhaps a passage from scripture might help you."
Thaddeus snorted. "I have thought of many passages. None set my mind at ease."
"I will try to help you, then. The passage that came to mind is this: 'Let not worry or fear tell your mind. The first guide must be the love of mankind.' Brave Thaddeus, you are so consumed with worry, it is interfering with your quest far more than any demon."
Nodding, Thaddeus said, "That is very true. But you see why this is a worry to me? You must understand, there is so much at stake here, I must be vigilant."
"Vigilance is a virtue, and our calling." Fara shook her head. "But any virtue, carried too far, can lead to our destruction. Let me tell you a tale of vigilance. As you doubtless know, in the east, the Hand of Zakarum went forth against the sin of the world."
"Yes, I have been told. A great campaign against the evil in others."
"A campaign of vigilance, seeking out what is hidden, exposing it to the Light. Everywhere the church looked, darkness was uprooted, but our efforts only seemed to increase it. The church encouraged us, glad at the numbers of heretics we found. One day, when I was with the Hand of Zakarum, I arrested a child, only 8 years old."
"Such innocence could harbor few demons," Thaddeus said with alarm.
"I know. He had set fire to a shrine. He did this because we had arrested his father, and his mother, his older brothers, his uncles and aunts... his family had been destroyed by our vigilance. Then I realized, our fear of heresy had created this new heretic."
Thaddeus nodded. Unflappably calm, Fara continued. "As I read the scriptures and looked at the church, I saw only paranoid fanaticism, not a blessing for the world. Somehow, what was wrong with the rest of the world had become more real that what was right within us. This was well after the schism. When your order split away, I cursed you with my brethren. Now, I wish I had been with you, before I saw the things that shattered my faith."
"Surely," Thaddeus said, "All is not lost for you..."
"Oh, no! You have come." Fara smiled. "When you first arrived, I was ashamed to be seen, I felt so tainted. You do not seem to realize what your presence means for these people, or for me. Your actions have been so selfless, and you have gone so far to ignore our many flaws. Were the Hand here, half the city would be on fire; you disapprove of much of what you see, I know, but I have not heard you utter a single cross word."
Now Thaddeus felt ashamed, deeply ashamed, of his conduct last night. Worry and fear had overcome him; he had spoken hurtfully to that woman. She was trying to be friendly... in her own way. Sort of. "You have not heard everything I have said, or thought."
"Your thoughts are your own. Your deeds count for more. Brother, what you have been and done is inspirational. The church is alive here in the west, the real church. When good things come to you, I believe it is because you have been blessed by a higher power."
"Surely not!" Thaddeus exclaimed.
"I do not mean to offend your modesty," Fara bowed her head. "'Blessed' is not the best term. Events have gone in your favor, as though guided by an unseen hand. Perhaps in time, you will play a part in restoring the church's honor and spirit. Perhaps... I could take up my sword again, without fear of myself. You are an inspiration, brother."
Nervously, Thaddeus stared at the floor. "The church needs stronger souls than mine."
"Perhaps it does," Fara sadly said. "These last few days, I have seen your mind so full of suspicion, I worried. The fear of evil is familiar to me: it nearly consumed my soul. The fall of the east began with suspicion. You must not let it overtake you."
Thoroughly chastened, Thaddeus felt unable to lift his gaze. "You are right. I was so worried about losing track of my quest... I lost track of myself."
"Losing yourself would mean the loss of more than your quest. These gifts worry you, and me, but none of us can find anything wrong with them. Put them from your mind, and return your thoughts to your mission. If you like, I have more ordinary equipment here."
"No, please," Thaddeus said. "Perhaps these things have come to me from a higher source. I do not think myself blessed. Sometimes, pride or anger finds its place in my heart. But an object cannot do harm unless I give it a hold over my soul. I should not fear things, or look relentlessly for evil where none may be."

Thaddeus wore the plate, with the surcoat, and kept the maul on his back. A charge with that great hammer would be devastating, though it meant dropping the shield. Back out in the desert above the oasis, a ruined town sat on a mesa. There were many buildings, broad avenues, and large open squares; this was once a mighty city, larger than Lut Gholein. Now all was ruins, the roofs caved in, with the marks of fire everywhere. Also many Zombies, all bearing signs of disease on their decaying bodies. While Thaddeus was gathering some of them together for a flurry of Blessed Hammers, everything went dark.

Thaddeus looked up. Had he suddenly gone blind? No, he could see familiar stars and the outline of the sun, its light faintly visible behind... something. A knock on the head reminded him of the Zombies. After killing them, he looked back up at the sun, and over the land. All was in darkness. He sat down to meditate on this. Darkness conceals, and is often called upon for that purpose. Darkness can also give strength to beasts which fear light or heat. Could it be that Diablo was near, hiding in this summoned night? Or was it something else? Before moving on, Thaddeus would need the advice of others wiser than himself. Cain had no idea what caused the darkness; natural eclipses occur only when the moon is new. Fara was no wiser, but was sure Drognan would know.

Drognan was sure the eclipse was caused by Claw Vipers, humanoid serpents who dwell out in the desert, far from man's dwellings. Evil beings with black hearts, they crave cold and darkness, and happily ally themselves with demons for their own purposes. Sometimes, lone travelers in the desert are kidnapped by the Vipers; those who escape tell of dark rituals around unholy altars, blood sacrifice, and cannibalism. Where nests of them are found, the desert inhabitants feel no compunction about stamping them out.

Cain was almost overjoyed to hear about the Claw Vipers. In addition to their other habits, the Vipers are fond of loud ostentation and display. Jewelry is particularly important -- no Viper is ever seen without huge quantities of rings, bracelets, necklaces, and other baubles. Most is worthless, made of string and shiny pebbles or bits of broken glass; sheer quantity of display is what matters to the Vipers. Chiefs bear more valuable things, taken from the poor humans who fall into their hands. Their unholy altars are decorated with the most precious of all. Perhaps the Vipers had the headpieces of some Horadric staves.

Before returning to the desert, Thaddeus noticed Lysander motioning to him. He went to see what he wanted. "Hello, Lysander. I hope the darkness hasn't bothered you too much."

  "Of course it has!  I'm deaf, not blind.  Though there are blessings to deafness; I no longer have to listen to the tedious gossip of others.  I have asked you over to see a new invention of mine."
  I've got a bad feeling about this, Thaddeus thought.  "Something for the Claw Vipers?"
  "Hah?  Saw wipers?  I didn't know you were interested in carpentry.  No, this is something I think you will find useful.  North of here, along the coast, lies the land of Magnesia."
  "I know of it.  Magnesia, land of milk."
  Lysander looked at him suspiciously.  "Silk?  That's produced on the Amazon islands, all the best lingerie comes from there.  What would you know about it?"
  With a sigh, Thaddeus said, quite loudly, "What about Magnesia?!"
  "No need to shout, my friend, I'm not so deaf as that.  In the mountains of Magnesia, they know of a certain metal, which few have found any use for."
  "How reassuring."
  "Indeed!  I have found a use for it!  When burned, this metal lights up in a brilliant flare of light, glowing like the sun.  In this darkness, it would be extremely useful."
  "That might be useful, yes.  When you... burn it, you say."
  "No, when burned.  Pay attention!"  Lysander brought out a tangle of wire, drawn from a light silvery metal unfamiliar to Thaddeus.  "It takes a very hot flame, but when set off..."  Lysander touched the wire with a firestone, an enchanted gem common in laboratories.

'Setting it off' was a good way to describe what happened. The blaze was brilliant. Blinding white light filled Lysander's shop -- until the white-hot metal burned through the table and fell to the floor. Cursing, Lysander reached for his water sprinkler. At the touch of water, an explosive sizzle shattered the burning wire, and bits of it scattered throughout the shop. Including, Thaddeus noted, a nice big chunk into Lysander's pile of immolation potions. The pottery jars began to crack as the hot metal lay on them. Lysander moved to pour more water on the fire. Quickly deciding that this would not be a good idea, Thaddeus grabbed the old alchemist and carried him out of the shop. Lysander was swearing a blue streak, but Thaddeus hardly heard him over the explosions.

Once the fire was out and peace restored, Thaddeus congratulated Lysander on his great discovery. Obviously, he was onto something, but he'd have to exercise more caution in the application of this breakthrough. For his part, Lysander was terribly upset about the loss of so much inventory. He would also need some way of controlling or extinguishing the fire if he was going to experiment with it any more. "Maybe some sort of chilling spell? Or something to take away the air? Things can't burn without air, I know that well. Hmmm..." Thaddeus left him to his musings. Moving against the Claw Vipers would be difficult in the dark, but far better to curse the darkness than to light THAT candle.

Chapter 13

An abomination is the sacrifice of the wicked, Much more when brought with evil intent. Out of sight and hearing, envy rends them With scourges of desire for harm and infamy.

    -- Visions of Akarat, c. 15, v. 15-19

After Lysander's shop was extinguished, and his more hazardous wares cleaned up, Thaddeus went to sleep. He felt tired, so it was probably night; the sun had been invisible since early afternoon. Before he returned to the inn, he made one stop. The party at the bawdy house he'd visited earlier was more subdued tonight; the strange night must be putting people off their normal nighttime routine. Looking in the door, he saw the woman he'd insulted speaking with an older woman, perhaps the head of the house.

"Excuse me, please."

"Oh!" the old woman said, "what a surprise! You're welcome here, of course! Business is off tonight, so you can have --"
"May I speak with your..." Thaddeus caught the young woman's arm before she slipped away. "Her, please."
"Excellent choice, master! Almost all the rooms are open --"
"I just want to speak with her, please." After a moment's thought, Thaddeus got his purse and shook out a small pile of gold coins. To judge from both women's reactions, he was being very generous. "I want to apologize."
The older woman beamed. "Apology more than accepted! You may insult us with your presence anytime you like, master Paladin!"
"Thank you." The young woman had stopped struggling, so he let her go and went with her to a corner of the room. "Young lady, I am sorry for the assumptions I made, and the way I spoke to you. There was no call for such rudeness."
"Yeah, sure," she replied, glaring suspiciously. "What else?"
Thaddeus was confused; he thought he'd been clear about what he wanted, and all he wanted. "Nothing else. I'd hoped that would be enough."
"That's a lot of money to say you're sorry you're a pompous jerk."
Thaddeus thought the nasty names were best ignored. As for the money, he had a lot, even after donating his Rogue's Pass treasure to the Sightless Eye. Most of it was theirs anyway, and they'd need it far more than he. In the deserts, he'd found much more on the ancient dead, and most of his expenses were taken care of by Lord Jerhyn. "I don't know what the usual charge is in here."
She looked dubiously at him. "You've pretty much rented me for a week, you know."
Thaddeus nodded. "I have other plans for the week. You may do as you wish."
Sneering, she said, "Oh, now I'm supposed to go all gushy and throw myself on you?"
"No... why would you?"
"Because all the 'nice' guys think that if they do something nice for me, I'll like them and give it up free."
"But I don't want 'it' from you."
She raised an eyebrow. "So you prefer boys, then?"
As hard as it was, Thaddeus did not frown. Of course, she was trying to goad him. He'd hurt her feelings and she wanted revenge; not a good motivation, but an understandable one. "Romance is not on my mind just now. Minstrels have sung of a night that lasts forever, but now that I'm in one, I don't like it very much."
"Uh, yeah." She looked out the window. "I guess it is really weird."
"I do want to go to bed. Alone; I need to do my work in the morning."
She nodded. "Hey, uh... I'm sorry about the pompous jerk part."
Thaddeus smiled. "But I am a pompous jerk. You're not the first person to say that, or tell me I have a funny-shaped head. Who am I to fly in the face of public opinion?"
"Um... okay..."
"Now, if you want to take the week off, by all means do so."
"Not much choice if there's no business. You've got your vow of chastity, I know."
Again, a vow of chastity; why does the untutored laity always assume that? Correcting her might be taken the wrong way, so Thaddeus said, "I do need to sleep, really sleep. This night must end soon."
"Yeah. See you around."

The next morning, Thaddeus wondered if he'd overslept: no sun came in the window to wake him. The darkness gave everything a timeless quality, so he had no idea how much time had slipped away since yesterday. Out in the desert, the ruined city was full of plague-ridden Zombies and the thin, four-armed giants. Fara identified them as Desert Raiders, a race of nomads who roam the deepest deserts. They are cowardly by nature, but will attack lone travelers if they think they won't meet strong resistance. Fighting a few at a time involved more chasing than fighting; they weren't as cowardly as Fallen Ones, but once frightened, they weren't bloodthirsty enough to come back without allies. They grew bolder if Thaddeus pretended to be afraid, so he could herd a large group together into an open area by "fleeing" them. The effect of Blessed Hammer on such groups was devastating.

The ruined city held a great deal of wealth. Death had come suddenly, by some quick stroke of great evil. No one had been buried, so it occurred to Thaddeus that the whole city could be seen as a huge graveyard. Still, he collected loot; Jerhyn might need the money to help Lut Gholein recover from its losses. His treasury was probably nearly empty by now. While exploring a peculiarly large underground vault, Thaddeus reflected on pillaging. The desire for gold drives many mad, and they forget themselves. Greed drives many to despoil graves, breaking the covenants the living keep with the dead. Thaddeus was looting the dead; did it really make a difference that these dead walked, and were trying to kill him?

Something odd happened when Thaddeus found a small stick on the Zombie of an old man. Made from the spine of a small animal, it was doubtless some sort of Necromancer wand. While he was looking at it (with some distaste,) a pale hand appeared out of the darkness and plucked it away! A note then appeared in a puff of light:

O vigilant one:

  Sorry, didn't mean to scare you like that!  Don't you worry, I serve a higher power, who is indeed looking out for what's best for you.  You see, I hold things for people, taking items of power from those what got 'em but can't use 'em, and giving them to those what can!  That wand was useless for you, but some Necromancer may want the whole Sander's set, which you have just completed.  Congratulations!

While the note didn't satisfactorily explain things, Thaddeus purposefully did not worry about it. He didn't know enough to make a decision about the Mule. Hopefully, the first sign of the Mule's true nature wouldn't be a fatal experience. In a small valley near the city of the dead, Thaddeus found what had to be a Viper lair. It looked like an old temple, or perhaps a tomb, with huge, ostentatious statues of intimidating serpent men flanking the entrance. Before going in, Thaddeus visited Lut Gholein once more.

"While I was in that city," Thaddeus told Fara as she hammered a dent out of his shield, "it occurred to me that I was pillaging the dead in unprecedented numbers."
"From what you have told me," Fara replied, "that is nothing new for you."
"That is true, I have looted the dead many times. The scale of this place saddened me, though. So many, men, women, and children. The desecration was so much worse."
"It is a great sadness when the young are cut down; sadder still when they come to such an end as this. They have little need for their wealth now. If they could be aware - and we should thank the Light they cannot be - I am sure they would understand."
"Isn't it the excuse of every tomb robber, that the dead do not need their wealth?"
"A truth put to foul ends, as an excuse for greed." Fara stopped her work for a moment, staring into space. "If you learn nothing else, know that there is nothing which cannot be corrupted. No ideal, no matter how high-minded, cannot be used as an excuse for hate and destruction. In the mouth of evil, the most gentle sentiments are instruments for terror."
Thinking back on the Rogues, Thaddeus nodded. "Must evil always win?"
"No," Fara said. "I might have thought so once, but no longer. Corruption comes from hidden places, for it needs time to work unopposed. Given time, nothing, absolutely nothing, is too pure. But all corruption contains its own destruction. Evil will, after its first burst of strength is spent, devour itself."
Thaddeus smiled. "What should we expect from those who hold greed, the lust for power, and bloodlusting anger as virtues?"
Fara looked up at the heavens, smiling with great calm. "The chronicles of Zakarum tell of many battles between Heaven and Hell. In most, Hell's strength seems overwhelming. They strike suddenly, viciously, where good is at its weakest. All seems lost. But as an answer to Hell's fury arises, their strength vanishes. The lords of Hell become consumed in squabbling; their forces work against each other; their troops flee any determined resistance. They are swept away, we mourn the sadness they brought, and pledge vigilance anew."
"Which grows lax as the generations pass, and the scars on the land heal over."
Fara shrugged. "The common men must live their lives. The crops must grow, the cattle need tending. Not all can live in vigilance against a threat that will not come in their lifetime. And even the vigilant can be... misdirected. Turned away from the true threat."
Thaddeus nodded. "I had also wanted to ask you about the Claw Vipers. Tell me, what do you know of them?"
"They are cold-hearted serpents, with arms like men, and evil eyes. When I was in Kurast, I saw a few of them."
"They are from Kehjistan?" Thaddeus asked.
"No, they are native to Aranoch."
"I have seen many creatures native to Kehjistan here in the west, in the service of evil. You have seen western creatures in the east?"
"A few. What have you seen here?"
"Giant Spiders and Fetishes, infesting the monastery of the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye. There are also Saber Cats here in Aranoch."
"Fetishes and Saber Cats are native to the jungles, yes. Giant spiders are common in the east. Their webs are collected and woven into subtle garments, light yet terrifically strong."
"Yes, I believe Lysander mentioned them. When I fight the Vipers, what must I fear?"
"They are rumored to engage in necromancy. In combat, they strike with their claws, or the poisonous spine on their tail. Their touch chills the body, I have heard, though perhaps that is an effect of their poison."

No one else knew much more about the Vipers, so Thaddeus went in to find out for himself. Immediately, a horde of Skeletons came out of the darkness; this seemed to confirm the accusations of necromancy. Behind them, a few Greater Mummies and a pack of the Vipers waited. Backed up to the temple entrance, Thaddeus couldn't make good use of the hammers, so he bashed his way through the Skeletons by hand and charged the Mummies. The Vipers might be more dangerous, but the Mummies were raising their skeletal cohort again, so they'd just have to wait.

That was his first mistake; the Vipers charged Thaddeus, placing themselves between the Mummies and him. For snakes on a smooth stone floor, they moved very quickly, and their touch was chilling. Most summoners, especially necromancers, like to hang back and let their minions do the dirty work, but these serpents were braver. The pack surrounded Thaddeus, striking quickly enough to interrupt his attempts to cast Blessed Hammer. Behind him, the Skeletons began rising right and left. Even one of the Mummies shambled forward to breathe a cloud of poison. Snarling imprecations, Thaddeus zealously bashed in heads and crushed bony limbs, grabbing potions from his belt when he had a moment's pause to do so.

The nearest Greater Mummy died amid the fury of blows, leaving an opening for Thaddeus to charge the other one. Slamming the monster back into the wall, Thaddeus pounded it about the body without mercy until it snapped in off at the waist. To his amusement, the legs wandered around for a while as Thaddeus finished off the Vipers. He'd never seen an undead do that before. Eventually, all the skeletons were smashed to bits, and Thaddeus paused to rest. True to what he'd heard, Claw Vipers were fond of jewelry. Their bodies were draped with baubles, most of them valueless. Some of it was worth something, and the biggest of the Vipers carried a magical amulet.

The amulet was not a Horadric staff headpiece, but Thaddeus did find another which was, on a fearsome Salamander deeper in the temple. It didn't match the staff he'd found, though. All in all, there were nearly a dozen magic rings and five amulets in the temple, all decorating some serpent or hanging from rude shrines. Cain told Thaddeus to look for an altar, the probable focus for the magic being used to blot out the sun. There were two shrines on the upper level of the temple -- neither dispelled the darkness. One shrine was placed very, very interestingly, right next to a set of stairs leading down to a lower level. The shrine granted high resistance to lightning. He didn't need it, but Thaddeus wondered: is lightning going to be a problem down there? Is this another sign?

Below the main level of the Viper temple, a small chamber of horrors awaited Thaddeus. The walls were hung with people, gutted and partially stripped of flesh. As he advanced, a small group of powerful-looking Vipers came to meet him. At least there didn't seem to be any of their undead servants down here. On his first strike, Thaddeus knew destiny was working behind the scenes as much as ever: the chief of the Vipers was lightning enchanted. When he found out who was responsible for this, Thaddeus was going to have a word with them. Maneuvering around the close confines of the room, Thaddeus dealt with each Viper one at a time, leaving the lightning spitter for last. It was fast, and hit hard, but hitting it back would only make matters worse until he was ready to deal with it alone.

The chamber was small, with a low pit in the center. An blood-drenched altar lay in the pit, half-buried in rotting flesh. As he killed the remaining Vipers, Thaddeus noticed the matter in the pit of decay was moving on its own. By all the Light, what were these things making in here? No time to think of it now; Thaddeus killed Viper after Viper until only the chief was left. The Viper chief looked at Thaddeus. Thaddeus looked at the Viper chief. It attempted to grin; at least, the expression looked more silly than threatening. Then it ran and hid in the corner. Thaddeus picked up his maul, charged, and bashed in its head.

Around the Viper pit, over a dozen human bodies hung from the walls. More slumped in iron cages, obviously starved and tortured to death. The pit was full of rot and blood, rippling in waves around the jewel-festooned altar. Something was coming to life in there. Muttering a prayer, Thaddeus gingerly leapt on top of the alter (he couldn't bring himself to even touch the filth in the pit) and started kicking the jewels and carvings away. A groan came up from the pit, and shudders went through the roiling corruption. Finally, with enough desecration, the altar broke. A great shiver went through the pit, and silvery lights floated up out of the filth, swirling around Thaddeus. They looked so clean and pure, coming out of that mess. Gently, the lights swirled up to the ceiling through the darkness, and in a bright burst, went through the stone. Sunlight, glorious sunlight, shone down onto the altar.

The sun was out in its full glory; it was almost noon. Everyone in Lut Gholein was overjoyed, even the ones who normally only come out at night. The jewelry from the Viper altar was valuable, and some was magical. The only piece of value was an amulet, socketed for a staff. The staff Thaddeus had in his footlocker was a perfect match.

Chapter 14

The liars served, stole, and feasted Upon the souls of these wise fools. One great fool argued with another Over which of them was the greater. They did contest, and the liars made Them feast on each other's tongues.

     -- The Book of the Hammer, c. 5, v. 11-16

The Viper's amulet looked like a corroded piece of brass, green and crumbling at the edges, but it fit the acid-etched piece of wood Cain had identified as the shaft of a Horadric staff. The two could be reunited using the Horadric Cube, and Cain was eager for Thaddeus to do so right away. He saw no point in it. Opening the tomb would serve no purpose; it might even make it easier for Diablo to reach his brother. The demon lord might be able to open the tomb himself, but if a complete Horadric staff was the only way Diablo could open the tomb, one Horadric staff in the land was one too many. Keeping shaft and headpiece separate would be the best thing to do; the shaft was in his footlocker, so the amulet would have to be hidden away somewhere else.

The best place, in all probability, was in the palace. It was the safest place in the city: guards stood at the doors, all the windows were barred day and night, and every member of the city guard had been in there for weeks. Thaddeus hadn't asked to enter since he first arrived in Lut Gholein; he'd been too busy in the desert to think about it since then. Now that he did think about it, it was strange that the place was locked up so tight, or that Lord Jerhyn's servants never seemed to have returned. Was Lord Jerhyn hiding something from the whole city? Thaddeus could sense no malice in him; nervousness, yes, but that wasn't out of line for a young ruler trying to navigate through a crisis of these dimensions.

Any palace was sure to have a secure vault, for the Lord's treasury. Putting the Viper's amulet in the vault would be an excellent excuse for looking over the palace, and perhaps ask a few questions of Lord Jerhyn. Nothing seemed unusual while Thaddeus was walking to the palace, but Lord Jerhyn was waiting outside the palace doors with two guardsmen. The guards weren't facing out towards the town, either; they faced inside, staring in the palace doors, weapons at the ready.

"Good morning, Lord --"
"Thank the Light you are here!" If Jerhyn had seemed nervous before, he was positively panicky now. "How did you know to come?"
Despite the restored sun, Thaddeus suddenly felt cold. "Uh..."
"Never mind, you are here, and I have a great need of a miracle. I hope you can provide my city with another one."
"Whatever you need, my Lord, will be mine to give if I can."
Jerhyn nodded, his eyes darting back and forth. "I do not know how to begin."
Calmly, Thaddeus said, "The beginning might be the best place."
"Yes, of course," Jerhyn laughed nervously. "When our troubles began, the city's harem guilds sought shelter within the palace walls. Some of the demons had managed to breach the city's defenses then, and they were afraid for their lives."
Despite himself, Thaddeus frowned. "Harem guilds."
"It was a reasonable request, and I granted them shelter. Everything was fine, until one night when we heard screams coming up the stairs. The poor girls were being slaughtered by a horde of bloodthirsty demons!"
"In the palace?"
"Yes. They must have come through the gate in the cellar."
This just got better and better. "A gate in the cellar?"
"Yes!" Jerhyn sputtered. "Is something wrong with your hearing?"
Thaddeus took off his helmet. "I'm beginning to wonder. You have demons in the palace, and have for weeks, but have mentioned nothing of it to the rest of the town?"
"Drognan knows, I would do nothing without his advice. We have tried to push them back, but there seems no end to them. I had to hire Greiz and his men to guard the city walls, and concentrate what was left of my own guardsmen in the palace. When the sun went out, they seemed to sense it, and came in even greater numbers. These two are all that remains of the city guard. I need your help desperately."
Thaddeus could hardly believe what he was hearing. "My Lord Jerhyn," he said, trying not to lose his temper, "I cannot believe you have been keeping this hidden..."
"Drognan's advice was to keep this secret, lest the city panic. My brave guardsmen were holding them off until recently. When you came, your quest seemed more important!"
Poor excuses, all of them, but pointing that out now would do no good. Fuming silently, Thaddeus nodded. "So we have been under attack from within all this time. Your whole city came so close to being overcome, almost nothing remains of your defenders. While I may question Drognan's judgment, I cannot fault your present decision. You do need my help."
Looking pale, Jerhyn nodded. "Riches, power, favors only a ruler can give, all will be made available to the one who helps my city."
"Bribery will not be necessary," Thaddeus snapped. "I am sorry, my Lord. I did not mean to say that. It will satisfy me to know how a demon gate came to be in your cellar."
"It has always been there; it is older than the palace itself. Drognan believes this to be the site of an ancient Vizjerei fortress, and the gate is a relic of those times. As long as the city has been here, the gate has been quiet, and would not open for anyone. Drognan has always wanted to see what lies beyond it."
"Now it has opened on its own."
"This may not be important, but... a few months ago, a Vizjerei mage came here from the west. While I was giving him a tour of the palace, he seemed to recognize the gate, and asked to study it, alone. I granted his request, and he was never seen again."
Thaddeus blinked. "Had this mage visited a small town called Tristram?"
"I believe he mentioned such a town, yes. Is that important, do you think?"
Thaddeus felt another headache coming on, a strong one. Perhaps Jerhyn would be wiser not to grant so many requests in the future. If he had a future. "Lord Jerhyn, you must open your palace to me now. The future of your city is at stake."
Jerhyn gasped with relief. "You may go anywhere in my palace, or throughout my city for that matter. My confidence in you is absolute."
Ah, good; he could freely enter any harem in town. Replacing his helmet, Thaddeus strode into the palace. "I'll be done before sundown."

The conversation left a bad taste in his mouth. The lord of a city should be someone his people can respect. There is always an incentive to hide weakness, but sending his guards in to die against endless waves of foes was incomprehensible. Was Jerhyn foolish, or simply ill-advised? Thaddeus would have to speak with Drognan about the gate.

The first basement level of the palace was a huge pleasure arena, with rooms large and small, full of furnishings and decorations intended to stimulate and gratify sensual pleasures. In his poor mood, Thaddeus thought all kinds of uncomplimentary things about Lord Jerhyn, though he had to admit that the Rogues' jails were less pleasant by implication. The silks and incense burners were all drenched in gore now, with the occasional mostly-intact body arrayed decoratively around the rooms. The demons were Desert Raiders, Skeletons, and huge fat giants called Blunderbores. The Blunderbores' choice of weapon was a human body, wrapped in heavy chain and slammed into an opponent; an unsophisticated style, but difficult to avoid or block.

Beneath the seraglio, the palace's cellars went deep. The stonework looked more like what you might find in a fortress, though later workers had widened all the doors. Narrow doors are easier to defend, but hard to move through, and were doubtless altered in peaceful times. Much of the palace's bureaucracy had worked down here, including the city watch. In their offices, Thaddeus found a strange poster.

WANTED: Xanthippe Height: Very short Weight: Frequently thrown around Eyes: Wide and flashing Hair: Luxuriant black Sex: *You* can try, but I want to have children someday Distinguishing features: Only uses weapons bigger than she is On charges of: Public bitchiness Disrespect of city elders Mercenary abuse Conduct unbecoming to a sorceress Reward! Call LGPD for more information. Keep our city clean.

The lowest level of the cellar, a strange artifact was set in the floor. A vaguely triangular shape, the object was complex, but had no obvious function, so it must be the gate. At the top, a toothed wheel hung suspended in the air between two prongs. Thaddeus set the gear spinning. A blue gate, large enough to walk through, appeared in the base. Staring at it, he thought, no, it can't be that simple. According to Jerhyn, this gate had defied centuries of efforts to open. Maybe that Vizjerei had found the gear that made it work? Drognan was glad to hear that the palace had been purged of evil.

"Excellent, your success is admirable," Drognan smiled. "You must have reached the lowest levels of the cellars by now, and found the gate. Have you found it?"
"Yes, I have. It is open."
With visible excitement, Drognan asked, "Have you seen what lies beyond?"
"That, I have not seen. What happened in the palace was terrible, of course."
"I am sure it was. Tell me, have you any idea how the gate was opened?"
"No," Thaddeus lied. "You have a guess where the gate might lead, then?"
"Centuries ago, this was the site of a Vizjerei fortress, built by Horazon, a leader of the order. If legends are true, Horazon built an Arcane Sanctuary, whose gate was within the fortress, as a retreat from the cares of the world. All of Horazon's greatest works were kept within the sanctuary, safe from ignorant minds."
Thaddeus nodded. "The Vizjerei were demon summoners, I have heard."
"Naturally. Horazon was a great, powerful, and wise archmage, master of many branches of magic. It is well known that he was served by demonic slaves."
"In the church of Zakarum, we were taught that Horazon was an example of the folly that lies in the pursuit of power. He believed he could bend demons to his will, as they allowed him to believe; they were using him for their own purposes."
Drognan smiled thinly. "I am sure your church holds many beliefs. The Vizjerei still revere the great Horazon, as a master of otherworldly forces beyond compare."
"And the deaths in the palace?"
Still smiling, Drognan shrugged. "An unfortunate incident, yes. If he is still alive, then no doubt Horazon's work was interrupted, and he sent his servants to see to the matter. It is more likely that he is not alive, in which case his servants were trapped in the sanctuary for centuries, and have reverted to their normal behavior."
Thaddeus nodded. "Lord Jerhyn told me that some months ago, a Vizjerei sorcerer came to the palace, and examined the gate in the cellar."
"This one also came to me. He was obviously insane, and I dismissed him. Perhaps... you may think, could he have penetrated the Arcane Sanctuary?"
"That thought occurred to me."
"An interesting theory, but his skills and knowledge would not have been sufficient."
"Of course," Thaddeus nodded. "If you could not open the gate, how could he?"
"Indeed. Perhaps he found some way in, and lost what was left of his ravaged mind. If you encounter him in the sanctuary, he could be dangerous."
Thaddeus raised an eyebrow. "In the sanctuary?"
"Of course. If I do not know how the gate was opened, I cannot know how it is to be closed. The Arcane Sanctuary must be explored, and cleansed."
"Then, the knowledge within may be studied at leisure." Thaddeus nodded. "Besides, so long as the sanctuary contains demons, the city will be in danger."
"Of course, of course. I shall be glad to follow along behind you, of course."
With as little care as Drognan had displayed for the lives of others, Thaddeus wasn't sure he wanted the old wizard as a battle companion. "You are a very brave man. The hordes of demons in the palace were a terrible threat, and they took such a delight in death by slow, painful torture. There would probably be even more in the sanctuary itself."
Drognan paled a bit. "Ah, no, that is not quite what I meant. At the moment, I must go to the palace, and advise Jerhyn on his next course of action. When you have finished with the Arcane Sanctuary, please inform me."
"Oh, I misunderstood. I hope no one has entered the lowest cellars. While I was here with you, more demons may have come through the gate."
Drognan frowned. "Of course. When you are done, come and inform me."

Looking at the gate, Thaddeus wondered best how to sabotage it. While he didn't approve of harems, that didn't mean their residents should be condemned to a painful death. Drognan had been quite unconcerned about that; he only cared about knowledge of ancient Vizjerei ways. As for Jerhyn... he obviously liked harems a lot, to devote an entire floor of his palace to one. Perhaps Drognan encouraged this weakness, to make him easier to rule. If there was power beyond this gate, neither of them should have it. On the other hand... there were obviously demons in there, and they must not be allowed to remain, even if he could deactivate this gate permanently. Closing the gate while he was inside might trap him, so any sabotage would have to wait until after he'd gone through.

On the other side of the gate, Thaddeus found himself staring out into a black, starry void, empty save for a maze of stone catwalks suspended in nothingness. Wherever it was, this was a horrible place, a disconcerting emptiness devoid of light or life. Looking down was terrifying, but looking up or sideways wasn't much better. The stone pathways were more than confusing: their layout seemed designed with the sole purpose of defying the natural order of the world. You couldn't be sure if you were walking up or down, even if you were right on them! Surely, this place could only be the result of a twisted mind -- exactly what a sorcerer might build. The gate was at the top of a short flight of steps, above a waypoint. Thaddeus immediately returned to Lut Gholein, and rejoiced in the normalcy, bathed in the sunset's light.

Back at the marketplace, Fara had closed up shop. Lysander was still there, putting up the last wall of his new store. "Hello."

  "Hello, Lysander.  It has been a trying day.  You haven't heard any rumors of demon summoning from anyone in town, have you?"
  "Good heavens, no.  Anyone who tried that would get his tongue cut out, his fingers all burned off, and then they'd start getting mean.  You think someone is doing that?"
  "No, no.  But Drognan believes I have found someplace called Horazon's Sanctuary."
  "Yes, Canker Bees are a problem.  Demons are very fond of insects, too."
  "HORAZON'S SANCTUARY."
  "Oh, Horazon!  A terrible man, who came to a bad end.  Had to lock himself in to protect himself from his own servants.  That's the fate of all summoners -- that, or damnation.  Let me tell you something: there are old summoners, and there are bold summoners, but there are no old, bold summoners."
  "A foolish but tempting path, for mages who lack foresight.  For all their reading, you would think wizards could read something of history.  It might not repeat itself so often if they did."
  "Repetition has its good points; someday, you might get it right."

It is true, doing something more than once can serve to correct flaws in a basically sound procedure. Returning to the waypoint, Thaddeus went back into the sanctuary, and through the gate into the palace basement. No one was around, so Thaddeus took the gear away. Sneaking out of the palace through a window was not very dignified, but he didn't make too much noise, and returned to the Arcane Sanctuary by the waypoint.

The marble paths were full of Goat Demons, the demonic Hell clan, strongest and darkest of that accursed race. The undead were also present, vaporous Wraiths and vampiric Dark Lords. Perhaps they were the remains of mundane servants and mages, trapped in here with the Goat Demons when the Sanctuary was closed. While cleansing the Arcane Sanctuary, Thaddeus found it was quite impossible to fall from the catwalks. He couldn't even knock the demons off; perhaps the empty space he saw was all some kind of illusion. Stockpiles of treasure were stored in certain parts of the maze, including ancient texts full of arcane lore. Some were about the elements, some were about the enchantment of items, and some were about the summoning and binding of demons. Unfortunately, some of the books and scrolls caught fire, in unavoidable accidents.

After a long battle with some vicious Dark Lords, Thaddeus found a large platform. A pile of old clothes lay on the floor, next to a book. The clothes contained a relatively fresh body, his head caved in by one of Thaddeus' hammers; Thaddeus hadn't even seen him up here. Hopefully, the man had found some peace, as it was doubtful he'd been up to any good. The book was Horazon's private journal. While locked up on this platform, Horazon had plenty of time to observe events in the real world. He didn't dare leave, or his "servants" would seek him out and kill him, but he could still watch and record what he saw. Baal's imprisonment occupied several pages of detailed observations. Tal Rasha's tomb was set in a secluded valley, flanked by the tombs of 6 other archmagi. Horazon's sanctuary could send Thaddeus there instantly. Before he went, Thaddeus took the gear that opened the sanctuary, and left that with the dead body. It was his, he may as well keep it.

Chapter 15

The Lord of Pain, fifth of the Great Evils, King of flies and maggots, all rot and filth. Devouring, he comes behind Destruction, Jealous of his primacy, desiring all himself. Greedy, violent, gluttonous, rebellious -- His lords have punished him many times…

    -- Chronicles of Zakarum, c. 14, v. 1-6

Inside Horazon's sanctuary, several spells were permanently set to create gates, going out to various places around the world –- or out of the world. Some names were familiar; Gehenna, Abaddon, the lake of fire. Horazon must have gone directly to the infernal reaches to look for slaves. No doubt this suited the "slaves" just fine; why seek a victim out, when he will come to you? Not all of Horazon's gates led to hellish destinations, but many of the earthly places no longer existed, or were unknown to Thaddeus.

There were a few books on the platform, so Thaddeus began looking them over. Perhaps the ancient mage had observed the entombment of Baal and made a note of it. The first book he went to was a diary, open on a tall stand; Horazon's private journal. As might be expected, most of it was sorcerous ranting about power and such; Thaddeus' gorge rose from reading it, so he paged through quickly. Near the end, he found Horazon's account of Tal Rasha and Baal. Most of it was empty rambling, but Horazon noted that the entombment in the "canyon of the magi", a small canyon with the tombs of six other sorcerers. Baal was in the corner tomb, the largest.

One of Horazon's gates led to the canyon of the magi, so Thaddeus went directly there. The sun had just risen: light was peeking into the gorge, creeping slowly across the walls where seven ancient tombs yawned wide open. A waypoint, its flames extinguished, sat on the canyon floor. It was covered with dirt, obviously disused for a long time. After getting his bearings, Thaddeus set out for the north-east corner, sure that was Diablo's destination.

As he walked, the ground began twitching under his feet, and a huge Sand Maggot burst up underneath him. More tunneled up through the sand as a crowd of javelin-hurling Saber Cats sprang out of hiding, peppering Thaddeus with their spears. After blocking most of the first volley, Thaddeus summoned the hammers, sending them spinning through his enemies. The Saber Cats quickly learned it was best to avoid the slow, spinning missiles, so Thaddeus had to close and deal with them in melee. The maggots weren't nearly as intelligent -- besides, they were much bigger targets.

As he fought his way to the tomb, Thaddeus wondered if Diablo had reached the tomb first. The monsters in the canyon might indicate so, they were his beasts, and seemed to have been expecting Thaddeus' arrival. When he got the tomb entrance, his heart sank; two sets of human footprints led in, and one set ran out. Was this Diablo, and some companion? What manner of man would travel with a dark lord? There was no time to ask questions; the tracks looked fresh, so there might still be a chance to catch him.

In the tomb's interior, Thaddeus lost the trail on the stone floor. While there was some sand and grit, he wasn't a good enough tracker to read such poor signs in near-darkness. The tomb was huge, with tunnels branching everywhere. All were full of ghosts, mummies, and the huge Gorebellies, who had fresh corpses to use as weapons. Thaddeus hardly had a moment to look for his quarry, the place was so thick with defenders. Finally, in a small side tunnel he almost overlooked, he found the tracks again. They went into a small room with a socket set in the floor; the trail led up to the north wall -– and through, as though the stone wall wasn't even there.

Panic gripped Thaddeus. He bent to examine the tracks -– they were no illusion. The wall was real and solid, not giving in the slightest to his shoulder. The empty socket in the middle of the floor was where the Horadric staff would no doubt go; Diablo hadn't needed one after all. Thaddeus quickly returned to Lut Gholein, and put the staff together. With the press of a button, the corrosion filled out with shining metal, the bent shaft straightened and acquired a new polish, and the two pieces joined as though they had never been separated. Cain was very happy to see the staff, but when he asked to hold it, Thaddeus just grunted and ran to his portal. The staff fit into the socket; a glow filled the room, and lightning shot out of the staff's head, shattering the north wall. A foul smell washed out into the room.

Heedless, Thaddeus climbed over the pile of rubble, peering ahead into darkness. In his haste, he didn't watch his footing; the rubble gave way, sending him tumbling into a deep pit full of horrible-smelling mud. Standing up, Thaddeus realized it probably wasn't mud; it was alive with maggots, some of them nearly two feet long. Then, something slammed into him, sending him flying across the room into a wall.

@Looking for Baal?@ a voice croaked, full of equal parts amusement and phlegm. A huge THING was bearing down on him again. In shape, it was much like the maggots squirming around his legs, but the end rearing up was easily ten feet off the ground. Its long body, covered with many insectile legs, negotiated the pit of filth easily. Blocking the charge was pointless; it just slammed into him again. Dodging was impossible, thigh-deep in muck. Gathering his wits, Thaddeus prayed for a Blessed Hammer, but the thing chopped at him with its axe-like arms, breaking his concentration.

Whenever Thaddeus tried to gain some distance, the maggot slid across its pit of ordure to slam into him. Finally, the thing pinned him to a wall with its body, hammering down on his shield with both arms. Thaddeus got a good look at its face; this was Duriel, the Lord of Pain, one of the Princes of Hell! Certainly not his quarry, and a sign that Diablo had been here and gone. Just like Andariel, this lord of the maggots had been left behind to delay pursuit. This, of course, meant Thaddeus had to defeat this worm right now.

Pinned to the wall, his shield in Duriel's face, Thaddeus couldn't do much. But Duriel couldn't do anything besides pound on the shield; his body was far too soft to press the breath out of Thaddeus' lungs. Duriel was big and powerful, but by all Zakarum's accounts of him, demon lords do come smarter, and he'd never been known for patience. Casually, Thaddeus took a potion from his belt and drank. Feeling better, he calmly said, "When you are ready, o minor lordling of all that squishes. You're not getting anywhere doing this."

With a snort, Duriel pushed away from the wall, and tried to slam in again; Thaddeus barely avoided it. Now that he had room to swing, Thaddeus went at it zealously, his scepter bouncing off Duriel's pulpy body, occasionally breaking the translucent skin. Every now and then, he'd miss with a shield block, letting Duriel get in a strike. Better to let him think an open fight was working, than to invite another slam into the wall. While Duriel's arms were powerful, his weight was his true advantage.

By judicious use of healing potions and making Duriel's few hits look worse than they were, Thaddeus slowly whittled the monster down. Whenever it looked like Duriel was thinking of a slam, Thaddeus let a blow hit, or would let his own strikes diminish to egg him on. A scepter might not be the best weapon to use on him (something with an edge would slice into that pulpy body,) but perceptibly, Duriel's strikes weakened. His head lowered, bruises appeared under Thaddeus' blows, and finally, his body slumped forward. Thaddeus finished with a blow to the back of Duriel's skull, perhaps the only hard part of his body.

Light finally entered the chamber. Thaddeus was in a pit full of filth, absolutely covered with the stuff. Before him, Duriel's body had burst, spewing maggot-ridden intestines and foul liquid all around him. Huge, hairy worms also squirmed in the pit, waving their heads and slithering along the floor. It was all too much; Thaddeus threw up all over the inside of his helmet. Feeling weak and ashamed, Thaddeus emptied the helm, and looked for something to wipe it out with. Everything he had was covered with something far worse. Sickened, he put the helmet back on and tried to climb out of the pit. The way back to the tomb was too steep, but another entrance stood in the east.

Through a short hallway, Thaddeus saw a gentle glow. In a large cave, a bridge led over a pit of fire; hovering over the bridge was... the most beautiful, awe-inspiring being he could ever have imagined. The glow of its wings filled the room with sublime illumination; armor sheathed its body and a sword hung by its side, but there couldn't possibly be any malice from this being. So overwhelming was this vision, Thaddeus completely forgot that he was still up to his eyeballs in muck. Barely aware of his own body, he went forward, and knelt at the angel's feet.

  "Greetings, mortal.  I thank you for my freedom... though I did expect you earlier."
  "Glorious angel!  My feeble efforts have been for naught.  I have come here in pursuit of Diablo, but have been unable to find or stop him."
  "I have tried to aid you in your quest, but cannot do so openly under Heaven's eye.  Last night, Diablo and I fought.  I tried to stop him from freeing his brother Baal, but I have failed.  Now, both stalk your world."
  Suddenly, all was clear.  Thaddeus had been under a watchful eye, all this time; the fear that gripped him seemed so foolish now.  "Your blessings are clear to me!  All your gifts have been great and good, though my own weakness and fear have overcome me, so my quest is not complete."
  "You must seek out Diablo and Ball.  They journey to Kurast, to join their brother Mephisto, who is now lord of that place."
  Thaddeus' heart sank.  "The prisoner now rules?"
  "He has corrupted his Soulstone, and uses its power against his captors.  I cannot pursue them; my body is spent, the energies binding me to this world are fading.  You must go to Kurast, and prevent the Three from reuniting.  If they do, all hope for your world is lost."
  "I shall, great angel!  I pray for the strength to succeed, to dispel my doubts..."
  "Let your prayers rise up from the boat.  Time is precious."
  "Yes, great angel!  I... I..."
  The angel gave no sign of impatience, but said, "Go.  Now."

Back in Lut Gholein, Thaddeus hastened to Jerhyn's palace, to explain about the sanctuary, the canyon of tombs, the battle with Duriel, and the wonderful angel who appeared to revitalize his quest. On the way, he wondered why everyone in town was running away from him, holding their noses. The palace doors were shut, with Jerhyn and his two faithful guardsmen peering down from the battlements.

  "Lord Jerhyn!  I bring you news!"
  "Whatever you are, go away!  I'm summoning more guards!"
  Looking down at himself, Thaddeus realized he was still caked in demon sh!t and his own vomit.  He'd gone before an angel looking like this!  Though his face was burning with shame, Thaddeus pulled his helmet off and addressed Jerhyn again.  "Lord Jerhyn!  Your palace is safe, the gate went to Horazon's Arcane Sanctuary!"
  "That's safe?" one guard asked the other.
  "Oh, it is you!" Jerhyn laughed.  "You encountered something much worse than Horazon, I take it?"
  "I encountered Duriel, the demon lord of excrement!"
  Jerhyn nodded. "That would explain it."
  "He was defeated, but Diablo and his brother Baal have escaped!  I must go to Kurast in pursuit of them, with all possible speed!"
  "Go to Meshif, and tell him he is free to go, so long as he takes you there.  And please, do something about yourself first!  If you come near him, you might kill him!"

Thaddeus stopped in the market square, to take advantage of Lysander's sprinklers. While getting rinsed, he explained everything to Fara and Cain.

"This is a serious setback. Baal is in possession of one of the world's most powerful mages, and Diablo guides his path." Cain frowned. "There is much known only to the Horadrim, which Baal could make use of against us. I fear for our future." "I do not," Thaddeus smiled. "We are on their heels, and Heaven watches over us." "What do you mean?" Fara asked. "In Baal's tomb, there was an angel, who had contested with Diablo." "Ah, that must have been the enigmatic archangel Tyrael!" Cain smiled. "He was advisor to the Horadrim from the beginning, and gave us the Soulstones. Of all the heavenly host, he could he called the bravest and most sympathetic towards humanity's plight." "But... he could not stop Diablo?" Fara asked. "I suppose the combined might of two of the brothers was too much for him," Thaddeus surmised, shaking the last of Duriel off. "Which is why I must go to Kurast, and prevent the third from combining with them." Slowly, Fara nodded. "I would that you could go anywhere else." Thaddeus shook his head. "Tyrael told me Mephisto is master of Kurast now. I suspected this some time ago, and am not afraid to have it confirmed." "I think I suspected it as well." A tear came to Fara's eye. "I fear for you, going to Kurast. The Hand of Zakarum is wicked, and can only have grown worse since I last saw it." "I... do not know what I will find there." Thaddeus rinsed his helmet out. "No doubt terrible things await my arrival. But I must succeed. There is no other option open to me." "Of course there isn't," Cain said. "That is why I must accompany you. I have not set foot in glorious Kurast for many years, but I hope my knowledge can aid you." "I am sure it will. You have been a great help to me. There, I feel a bit more presentable. We must go to Meshif's ship. Time and tide wait for no man."

Concluding thoughts:

Okay, Blessed Hammer is a good skill, but you have to know how to use it. It's not a point-and-shoot. Moving around and spamming hammers is a good strategy for dealing with crowds, but it's lousy on single monsters.
I haven't been using Holy Shield, I need a few more skill points to get the duration up to something decent. Soon, though.
Charging with a Maul is sweet.
Xanthippe recently got through Act 1 nightmare. Damn, that's hard on players 8. Bosses everywhere, and 2 out of 3 are lightning enchanted. She's let Kasim go into retirement, and gotten herself a might merc. Let's see how he does.

Act 3

Act 4

Act 5

Epilogue

Stony, Patriarch Thaddeus (Diablo: IncGamers)

Source

Stony's Grand Tour was originally posted in Diablo: IncGamers (formerly Diabloii.net) Single Player Forum. While almost all original posts are long gone, Vesper, one of our Community Members, contacted him and was given the original documents, and permission to reproduce them at the Amazon Basin. Onderduiker 11:54, 29 August 2012 (PDT)