Difference between revisions of "Varnae (Chapter 33)"

Latest revision as of 18:40, 12 February 2017

Redirect to:

Varnae (Act V)#Chapter 33

@@ Line 1: / Line 1: @@
-{{Varnae nav}}
+#REDIRECT [[Varnae (Act V)#Chapter 33]]
-Dear Diary,
-A short while ago, I made what I supposed might be my final entry in this journal.  Tyrael, agent of Heaven and advisor to fools, sent me into the northlands to save the Worldstone, never seeing fit to inform me of its nature and purpose.  Underestimating its importance, my search of the northern mountains moved at a leisurely pace, playing into the hands of my enemy, Baal, Lord of Destruction and commander of Hell's largest armies.  The demon lord, unable to enter the Worldstone Keep where the stone lay, wrought havoc and destruction throughout the region, causing the northmen's last tribal elder, Nihlathak, to despair.  In his wretched state, Nihlathak gave to Baal the key to destroying the Worldstone, hoping Baal would then leave his people alone.  A drowning man will clutch at any straw, sadly, but by giving Destruction his desire, that poor man guaranteed humanity's doom.  Cursing his memory like the others do might bring some comfort, but my sympathy for his terrible plight moves me only to pity.  My curses go to the angel.
-Inside the Worldstone Keep, evidence of the Worldstone's destruction is everywhere.  Many pieces of crystal, each the size of a house and red as life's blood itself, protrude upwards through the floor.  While it was intact, I am sure the Worldstone was a marvelous thing, an epically-scaled, sanguine symbol of the beauty and power of mortal life, but little hope remains for it now.  Even Khaleel seems to have realized that something is deeply wrong, and is flailing about in an endeavor to provoke me into returning to the Keep.  I shall, in my own time.  My own vengeance will be attended to -- and to finally, defiantly, spit in my enemy's face before darkness consumes me is a gesture I have always wanted to make.  But I will wait.  While in the Keep, I paused for a moment to admire the construction; a painful burst of lightning erupted beneath my feet, accompanied by what could only be my foe's harsh laughter.  Obviously, Baal has already found what he sought and done what he set out to do, and is impatient to see me that me might laugh in my face.  Gentle reader, you may think me spiteful, but I refuse to be goaded, by man, angel, or devil.  The more I am pushed, he more I shall resist, to my dying breath and beyond.
-For my own amusement and interest, I shall record a description of the Worldstone Keep and its architecture, the likes of which I have not seen in all my travels.  Overwhelmingly grand in style, the Worldstone Keep bears only a vague resemblance to other Precursor structures, but employs common thematic elements.  There is nothing graceful or light in the Keep, quite unlike the Heavenly styles of Pandemonium, where stone and metal were presented in such elegant forms the dense medium seemed to float and soar like the ether.  Here, all is close-spaced columns and flat lintels, each made from a single piece of stone.  Shallow but precise cut-outs decorate the floor in maze-like patterns, always turning at right angles... in fact, I don't believe there is a single obtuse or acute angle in the entire structure.  The star of Order is never seen, but strongly implied in this staunch regularity.  Furnishings are scant to the point of being entirely absent; a few elaborate tombs break the endless emptiness of the square halls, as well as the ubiquity of right angles.  All are adorned in the colorful styles I saw in Harrogath, using differently-colored stones side by side in geometric patterns; I suspect that the Worldstone Keep predates them considerably, though it is also possible that the Keep's style is special, reserved only for this most important temple.
-To my surprise, human remains can be found inside the Keep.  Did Baal import some to feed his zoo of minions?  Difficult to judge; only a few tiny pieces remain intact, the rest having been ground to jelly and smeared into the floor.  The first floor of the keep is guarded by hordes of Imps and Minotaurs, with Defilers behind them to insure their enthusiasm for battle.  More lies below, I am sure -- lumps in the otherwise perfectly level floor unquestionably indicate spots where pieces of the Worldstone failed to break through.  Ah, I have found a human hand clutching a weapon; this person was not brought in by the demons, unless he or she died in some sort of gladiatorial sport.  Perhaps a few local people served as temple guardians, though how they were chosen for this task I have no idea.  If they had to face the same trials I did to enter, surely they could have dealt with Baal's army witho
-Another "hotfoot" from Baal -- any more of this, and I could grow to dislike him.  Perhaps I shall try his patience as he has tried mine, judging by experiment exactly how slowly I may move and avoid his impotent wrath.  The Minotaurs, I should note, are of the strongest variety, invulnerable to the chilling effects of Khaleel's magic.  Their presence no longer fills me with fear, though I cannot explain why; now, they are nothing more than the first foe who must die.  Perhaps, as I realize my mission cannot succeed, I also know death cannot interfere with my efforts and poses no threat.
-The second level of the Keep stretches rectilinearly before me, and I can easily see it is not the deepest from the holes in the floor.  The crystal chunks which made them, of course, lie embedded in the ceiling, accounting for the lumpy floor above.  For all this rude treatment, the building is still quite stable; architecture this muscular will not be demolished easily.  A plethora of Plated Demons fills these halls, and by spying around corners I have seen some who are already bloated with energy, placidly waiting for me to approach.  Their devotion is remarkable; even undead servants care more for their own existence.  Perhaps that sort of thing is what encouraged my ancestors to take on demons as servants; a servant so eager to do anything I ask without question would be enticing.
-Apart from a waypoint, I find nothing of interest on the second floor.  The third floor is a repeat of the first: Imps, Minotaurs, and Defilers.  The halls all look the same, of course; the only indication of depth is a greater concentration of shattered crystal punched through the floor.  Minotaurs are hard on the armor, but otherwise there is nothing here to interest me.  Every conflict with Baal's army I have experienced has had a remarkable sameness to it: a mix of powerful infantry (the Yeti, Plated Demons, or Frozen Creepers) escorted by quicker but fragile magi (Succubi or Imps; exploding Plated Demons could be considered self-guided fireballs.)  The Minotaurs are probably members of his personal retinue, which he has scattered here and there without rhyme or reason.  Were they more concentrated, their strength would be insurmountable, but dissipated as they are they do him little good.  It is as though the Lord of Destruction has a book entitled "How To Wage War"; it is a small book, little more than a pamphlet, full of poor advice which he never deviates from.
-An oddity of the Worldstone Keep has caught my eye.  The maze-like patterns on the floor do not branch, and thus do not form a true maze.  More properly, the path depicted is a labyrinth, which loops endlessly through the entire level.  No matter how the path twists, it inevitably returns to its beginning.  Were it not so damaged, and so heavy, I would be tempted to pull up the floor and carry it away home; nowhere have I seen a better analogy for life and death, especially on such a scale.
-The next level down is most probably the deepest.  Fiery light suffuses every corner, leaving no shadows.  Baal's strongest Minotaurs are present, but in groups of four, not two.  Beside them are Succubi by the dozen, though these are the best I have yet seen -- their wings and other demonic features are golden, glittering like cheap tinsel.  Perhaps Baal is trying to prove to the world that is really is possible to polish excrement.
-Horrors!  These Succubi know a worthwhile curse, Damage Amplification.  Decrepification is more to be feared, but to be so vulnerable to physical blows in the presence of Minotaurs would be terrifying indeed.  The brutes are dangerous enough as they are.  I'd best proceed carefully, and try to isolate them from each other.
-So much for isolating them from each other!  In a small side room, I happened upon a huge group of Succubi with a few Minotaurs.  It seems Baal has little control over his minions.  I do not want to think about what they were doing in there, but at least this batch of bulls had to fight without their armor.
-At the rear of the level is what may have been a temple; Baal, in his infinite and completely undeserved arrogance, has made it into a throne room.  There the great scuttler sits, on a high platform flanked by banners, deeply impressed with himself -- I suppose he does live up to his own meager expectations.  I'm sure he is expecting a ferocious attack; perhaps I shall engage him in conversation.  Surely, he and I can find something to chat about.
-My attempts were fruitless; Baal did nothing but laugh.  Perhaps he suffers an embarrassing speech impediment.  Reaching him was difficult, as he kept the best of curses for himself: Decrepification.  Even climbing stairs under the weight of that curse would be an ordeal, and Baal worsened the matter by summoning more minions to protect him.  Granted, his first try was only Fallen Ones, but they were followed by a pack of Horadric Mummies, with skeletal cold magi in company.  These were a novelty for Khaleel, and the combination of Baal's curse and the chilling effect of their magic was more than either of us could tolerate.  I have made a quick retreat from the room; Khaleel has recovered, and is picking off the magi at range.
-My future biographer will have a terrible time with this tale.  To reiterate: I am facing an foe with magical power capable of laying waste to cities, and brain power insufficient to light a candle.  His chief mummy was immune to my venom, but my alternate weapon took it down with sledgehammer finesse.  After the mummies died, he re-summoned the Zakarum council, led by a familiar face: Bartuc, brother of Horazon, and easily the most egotistical sorcerer of all time, which as you can imagine is saying something.  Imagine seeing him again after all these years.  Now that I have disposed of Bartuc, Baal has brought in Balrogs.  Where are the heroic battles of wits against a foe of my own caliber?  Baal has provided endless armies, but defeating endless armies is more a matter of persistence than intelligence.  I am sure this will not bring any satisfying final denouement either, unless Tyrael turns up.
-Great Rathma's ghost!  Baal had one surprise up his sleeve: the last summoning must have been his personal bodyguard. I have no clear idea what they were, but they were quick, strong, and dangerous; note accompanying sketches.  Their initial charge knocked my Bone Armor out so quickly, I did not notice it was gone; the second blow smashed me across the room and out the door, with the whole pack in pursuit.  Khaleel did his utmost to stop the beasts, with such zeal that I had to drag him to a portal to save his life.  Knowing they would stay clustered about the portal, I returned by waypoint.  Arranging their deaths was a long game of cat-and-mouse through the complex; they were highly resistant to my venom, Khaleel's chilling magic... indeed, everything we had.  Finally standing over their twitching corpses was a moment of enormous satisfaction, though as far as my interest in my enemy goes, it was too little, too late.  Strangely, the lead creature had in its possession a Fool's Scepter of the Leech.  Was this one of our kings in a former incarnation?
-When I returned to Destruction's throne, he was gone.  A red gate stood at the rear of the platform, where Baal's spidery bulk hid it from view.  Climbing up now is easy, and beyond the gate is a huge chamber containing the Worldstone.  It can be nothing else.  Imagine a crystal of purest ruby the size of an entire town, floating serenely in space, unsupported by any visible force.  Now imagine that crystal turning black as corruption cleaves through the stone, twisting it into new forms better suited to Infernal energies.  As you watch, crimson shards peel away from the main mass and float buoyantly away, slowly pushing their way out of the chamber through the solid stone walls.  By the base, Baal waits, laughing and pointing out his handiwork, as though I couldn't possibly have noticed without his help.  I'm sure he'll want to say more, but I have been so unimpressed with all he has said and done already I'm sure I can miss it.
-With all the satisfaction that comes from squashing a particularly noisome insect, that is that.  The Lord of Destruction, while in possession of one of history's greatest sorcerers, fell to my venom and a sledgehammer lodged in his skull.  And, on cue, here is Tyrael.
-I do dearly, desperately hate that INFURIATING angel!  With sincere humility, that fluttery luminescent glowworm of a sorry tin-plated milk-blooded excuse for munificence APOLOGIZED for not telling me what the Worldstone did!  He thought I understood its significance; everyone else in the mortal world does.  That's because everyone else in the mortal world actually LISTENS to stupid angels and lets them tell them what's important!!  Oh, I am so disgusted with him.  After that, Tyrael destroyed the Worldstone.  The main mass was no longer suitable as a vessel for our world's energies; corruption would soon fill it with infernal power, and it could only become a weapon for Hell.  A few fragments remain, but not enough to maintain the interdimensional veil.  I kept one; it is a beautiful thing, glowing red as blood in the light.  Perhaps something could be done with it.
-And that, dear reader, is how the world stands as of today, a day that will be remembered as the day the world ended.  I can hardly wait to tell father, he never would have thought I had it in me.  I suppose, strictly speaking, the world has not ended... an age has merely passed away.  You must understand, the Worldstone was placed in Mt. Arreat by Heaven to prevent outside agencies from using extradimensional powers in our world.  This interfered with both demon and angel alike, and was the main reason Tyrael could do so little.  The Brothers had the Soulstones, which drew power from the Worldstone.  Once corrupted, the Soulstones allowed them to make use of their power unchecked.  Now our shield is gone, and only our knowledge and our wits stand in Hell's way.  When I am needed... look elsewhere, for I am beginning a long, well-deserved rest, at the suggestion of Tyrael.  It was the only sensible thing I've ever heard him say.
-I remain yours truly,
-Varnae Cesare Amygda von Rhus
-Initiate of Rathma
-Slayer of The Prime Evils,
-Savior of Civilization
-<font size=1>Hey, it's Khaleel.  We're back in Atma's, pasty is getting drunk.  Guess who I met in here?  This guy named Zanarhi who says he used to work for the scrawny bastard.</font>
-<font size=3>hi.  the litle werdo got thru to the end huh?</font>
-<font size=1>Yeah, barely.  You should have seen him when he walked into that one room with the bull guys and demon babes.  Man, he turned pink!</font>
-<font size=3>he terned pink owt here i had to cary a dam parasol for him</font>
-<font size=1>Okay, the bulls and babes thing was kind of gross.</font>
-<font size=3>i dont want to no!  bad enuf to heer him yamering about ded guys</font>
-<font size=1>Gods, I know!  He is damn strange.  This one time, he fell in love with this freaky old guy in this place we had to go.  That was totally gross.</font>
-<font size=3>somhow i kind of new hed go that way</font>
-<font size=1>He tried to cover it up by falling in love with some leather-babe too.</font>
-<font size=3>i kind of new hed go that way to</font>
-<font size=1>Yeah, always going on about hair and clothes and interior decorating.</font>
-<font size=3>he tryd to dres me up but im not into that</font>
-<font size=1>You should have seen him at the end.  Baal dropped this purple Gothic Plate called Rattlecage, pasty looked like he was in heaven.</font>
-<font size=3>purple?  he wor blak befor is purple the new blak?</font>
-<font size=1>I don't know.  And, of course, he thinks he's god's gift to magic.  Look at that stupid signature up there.  "Savior of Civilization" my left nut.</font>
-<font size=3>man he puts lots of curly bits on his werds</font>
-<font size=1>Whenever he gets too snotty, just start talking about the 6-foot boner joke.</font>
-<font size=3>man i no it was so funy wen he told it then denid it he lies</font>
-<font size=1>Anyway, I'm Khaleel, I killed Baal, and pasty was my Curse B!tch.</font>
-<font size=3>good job my man</font>
-Concluding thoughts:
-#The Bloody Foothills, with their narrow bridges and passages, were unexpectedly difficult.  Frequently, I found myself poisoning two monsters on a bridge, then waiting for them to die before I could get the rest of the horde.  My merc killed more than I did, which is a sad thing to say when you're using an Act III cold sorcerer.
-#Attract works as well on exploding slaves as it does on any other monster: not reliably.
-#We hates the Frenzytaurs, we hates and fears them.  They have to be envenomed more than once, and are too dangerous to kill slowly anyway.
-#Ever had Tyrael's gate appear so close to the wall that you couldn't go through?  Good thing you don't need to enter it to get credit for the finish.
-Quite an entertaining excursion, that.  But now, let us put the Necromancer aside and begin the endless cycle anew.  Where he was slow and methodical, the next character is known for her lightning speed and devastating damage.  Naturally, I'll be avoiding those skills, but even so she'll have to be a faster killer than Varnae.  (Any slower, and she wouldn't kill anything at all.)  Cloaked in ebon night, I give you... the Assassin.

Difference between revisions of "Varnae (Chapter 33)"

Latest revision as of 18:40, 12 February 2017

Navigation menu

Search