Diablo 2- FA Chapter 1

Act 1: Plight of the Rogues
Chapter 1

An unnatural silence lay over the moors of Khanduras. The moon hung high in the night sky, but no dogs howled to it. A soft breeze brushed trees that were otherwise untouched by wild animals. It’s said that animals can sense when a natural disaster is approaching; if that’s true, then the same must hold for unnatural disasters as well, for they had all fled these plains. This was no longer a place for the beasts of nature; evil dwelt here now.

Through this wilderness, a single traveler walked. Covered in a heavy cloak to protect them from the elements, the only things not concealed beneath their shroud was a hand axe that hung from their belt and the faint sound of metal clanging together. Though surrounded by darkness, the traveler didn’t seem afraid. Their perseverance was rewarded when a faint light poked through the trees and began to get brighter as the traveler drew closer to it. It was a campfire, and a large one at that.

Surrounding the campfire was, appropriately enough, a camp, comprised of several caravan wagons and crude huts and tents, and bordered by a hastily-erected stone fence around all sides. The few entrances to the camp were guarded by female archers, Rogues from the order of the Sightless Eye, and upon seeing that the traveler had no hostile intentions, they nodded them past and continued their vigil.
As the traveler approached the large fire at the center of the camp, they could see that there were many people gathered around it. Armed warriors and soldiers ate a stew that was being distributed to the people, while merchants moved among them advertising their wares. A few Rogues were among the gathered, but they seemed to keep to themselves and regarded the mercenaries with caution. There was one man in a blue robe and turban who made his way through the crowd, greeting a friend here, placing a reassuring hand there. As he neared the perimeter of the circle, he noticed the traveler, hesitant to approach. The man regarded the newcomer with a warm smile and beckoned them forward, a hand extended in greetings.

“Greetings, stranger. I’m not surprised to see your kind here; as you can see, many adventurers have come this way since the recent troubles began. Come, let’s get you settled and something to eat.”

The traveler nodded and answered with a soft voice. “Thank you, I have been on the road for many days now.” The traveler lifted back her hood, revealing a face to match her voice, short brown hair in a state of disarray from the recent covering.

“I am the trademaster of this caravan.” The man continued. “But we have no need for formalities here; simply Warriv will do fine. Here.” He said, offering her an empty space by the fire and a bowl filled with broth. She thanked him and took her seat, oblivious to the staring eyes at some of the other warriors who took note of both her delicate features and the sharp axe at her side. One, a pale-skinned and burly man with a large hammer leaning next to him, didn’t give her a second glance and continued with his meal.

“Tell me,” Warriv said after the girl had taken a taste of the stew. “Who are you, and what brings you to this place, if you don’t mind my asking? We’re all friends here, there’s no need for us to continue as strangers while we all sit around the same fire.”

“I am Ricca, and I heard about the troubles you spoke of and decided to come and lend my aid, if I can. Though, to be honest…I have heard only vague reports and whispered rumors. What can you tell me about recent tidings?”

Warriv nodded, but a shadow seemed to fall over his face briefly. “No doubt you’ve heard about the tragedy that befell the town of Tristram.” Ricca nodded that she had, while the large man seemed to tense up for a moment, though made an effort to avoid drawing attention to himself.

“Some say that Diablo, the Lord of Terror, walks the world again. Now, I don't know if I believe that, but a Dark Wanderer did travel this route a few weeks ago. He was headed east to the mountain pass guarded by the Rogue Monastery. Maybe it's nothing, but evil seems to have trailed in his wake. You see, shortly after the Wanderer went through, the Monastery's Gates to the pass were closed and strange creatures began ravaging the countryside. I came here with my caravan on my regular route from the Western Shores, but was forced to make what seems like a permanent camp here. Until it's safer outside the camp and the gates are re-opened, I'll remain here with my caravan. I hope to leave for Lut Gholein before the shadow that fell over Tristram consumes us all. If you’d like, I’ll take you along.”

“Thank you, but first I must see if there is any good I can do here. I am not of the kind to abandon an entire region to Evil if there is something I can do about it.”

Warriv smiled and patted her on the back, shaking a few of her robes off. “A good attitude to have for a young one such as yourself! Old merchants like me can’t help but be a bit jaded by the woes of the world, but I’m glad you have a more optimistic outlook.” He glanced down and noticed a metal chestplate under her cloak, adorned with the mark of Zakarum, and his grin widened. “Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by a Paladin of Zakarum. Well met, my friend, well met.”

She nervously thanked him while he shook her hand. “But I digress. If you’re looking to help out, you should see Akara, the Rogues’ High Priestess.” Warriv indicated a purple tent, the largest of them all, from which raised voices could be faintly heard. “She seems to be their leader; maybe she can tell you more about what’s been going on.”

Ricca thanked him, and he moved away while she ate more of her stew. The large man, who had been watching her during her conversation, rose silently, carrying his things with him, and walked over to sit next to her. He said nothing for a few moments, during which time Ricca was nervously aware of his presence.

“Greetings, warrior.” He said finally. “You drew quite a bit of attention.”

Her pale cheeks took on a slightly red color. “I don’t see why. A woman can wield a sword as well as any man.”

“True, but not many of them choose to do so.” He paused for a moment. “Why is it that you’ve come here?”

“As I said to Warriv; I heard of the troubles and came to see if I could help.”

“And where is it that you have come FROM?”

“Westmarch. You’ve surely noticed that I follow the ways of the Paladin, and if I had come from Kurast, I would have much darker skin, would I not?”

The warrior nodded. “Yes, I am familiar with appearances of Kurast natives. But Westmarch is still a fair distance from here, especially on foot. You say that you came all that way simply to lend a helping hand?”

Ricca was visibly becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the warrior’s line of questioning. “That is correct.” She answered bluntly.

“You’re lying.”

Discomfort turned to anger as she lowered her bowl. “Excuse me?”

“There is not a man here who has not come seeking glory and riches, or the…’gratitude’ of the Rogues.”

“As you and your fellows have noticed, I am not a man.”

The warrior stared at her very intently. “I have yet to see an exception.”

“And do your observations include yourself?”

“Of course not. I am no hypocrite.”

Ricca stood, lay down her pack, and pulled off her cloak. Her full Paladin gear could now be seen; a hardy layer of plate and chain mail covered her body, leaving much to the imagination. A triangular kite shield was strapped to her back, and a full helm strapped to the other side of her waist from her axe. “You are wrong about me. And I am about to demonstrate that to you.”

She strode intently towards Akara’s tent, as the warrior lazily rose after her, mild curiosity on his face. Before Ricca reached the tent, however, the main flap opened and two women exited. One was middle-aged, and wore robes of same the color purple as the tent, while the other was much taller and more energetic, and wore a red cloak over chainmail. It was she that spoke first.

“Priestess, if we do not act on this information, their sacrifice will be in vain!”

But Akara would seemingly hear none of it. “Kashya, we have lost so much in vain already! I could not bear sending more of our Sisters to their deaths! If the mercenaries who have come are not willing to take up this task, then we must leave it be…and pray that they do not- Hm?”

They both stopped when they noticed that they were about to run into the startled Ricca. The young Paladin quickly regained her composure, cleared her throat and bowed her head.

“Priestess Akara, I have come to aid you and the Rogues in your battles. Please, if you have a task that needs fulfilling, allow me to do whatever I can to see it done.”

The two regarded the young girl hesitantly.

“Are you not…a bit young?” Akara said.

“I am 25, an adult by any standard, and well-trained in the ways of combat. I overheard that you have pressing business; if I may, I would like to attend to it and prove my worth to you.”

Akara nodded, but did not seem wholly convinced. “Kashya’s scouts have informed me that a cave nearby is filled with shadowy creatures and horrors from beyond the grave. I fear that these creatures are massing for an attack against our encampment.”

Ricca bowed her head again. “Then I will find this den of evil and destroy the foul beasts.”

Before she could move, however, Akara continued. “But…”

Ricca looked up, confused. “Milady?”

“I…cannot in good conscience send you to battle these creatures. You may be an adult, true, but you are still young by any of those same standards. You are not much older than the youngest of our archers, and I would never allow any of them to undertake such a mission. And they use the gifts of the Sightless Eye to keep them safe from danger, but you…”Akara slowly shook her head. “I could not bear to send you into the thick of a close-quarters battle. I know that we are not in a position to refuse help from anyone, especially someone who offers it so willingly…but I am afraid I cannot allow it.”

Ricca’s heart sank, and it was visible on her face. “But…Priestess…there must be some way for me to…!”

She was interrupted by a heavy voice behind her; she turned to see the large warrior she had argued with earlier. “If it will put you at ease, Priestess, I will accompany her.”

“Einar? I would feel better if she had someone to look out for her, but…are you sure you can protect her?” Akara said, her voice displaying mixed emotions.

Einar nodded and rested his heavy mace over his shoulder. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t get in over her head.”

Akara closed her eyes in thought, before finally turning and staring intently into Ricca’s eyes, as if trying to be certain of the truth of the matter.

Finally she said. “Very well. The best of luck to you both, and may the Great Eye watch over you.”