Thaddeus (Chapter 25)

Template:Thaddeus nav "They cast me out from their presence.

Shall I ever look again upon thy temple?"

She said, "When my soul fainted within me,

I sang and prayed to the Light; I was heard.

Arise, and go to that great city we know

Proclaiming the glory and joy of the Light.

Your persecutors are now ashes and rust,

Only a sad remembrance of long past days."

-- Visions of Akarat, c. 42, v. 9-16

Following the slope of the land downwards, Thaddeus found himself on the Plains of Despair, famous for the legendary battles fought there. It was here that Izual was defeated when he attacked the Hellforge, trying to stop the completion of the demon blade Shadowfang. This land had been soaked in the blood of thousands - infernal, angelic, and mortal. Neither side ever claimed possession for long in those days. With Heaven's retreat from mortal concerns, the field had been abandoned... but even Hell didn't seem to want anything to do with the place. The plains were a wasteland, stomped flat or gouged with deep holes, through which a fiery glow shone. Ruined engines of war, broken weapons and armor, and the bones of thousands lay untouched in the charred ash that substituted for soil.

Of course, nowhere in Hell is truly empty. As might be expected, the plains were given over to the dead and those who live upon them. When Thaddeus saw a faint glow, cast by no light source he could see, he knew what it was: a Will o' Wisp, like the ones from Kurast's swamps. Drifting about and crackling with electricity, a pack of these creatures can be very dangerous for the unprepared. Floating creatures that looked like giant scale lice, or perhaps a giant's ribcage that had taken on a life of its own, came behind them. These creatures also cast lightning attacks, little trails of bolts that crept along the ground. Both fell quickly to Blessed Hammer; they must be undead.

The grotesque things that came to gnaw on their shattered bones were resiliently, horribly alive. None of Zakarum's texts mentioned these. A flabby, pale body was supported by four legs, all bent backwards, like a human being "crab-walking." Under a blank face with three long horns, pendulous breasts hung, with a gaping red opening taking up most of the thing's underside. Their appearance was nauseous, but as a few approached Thaddeus, they added a whole new level to their grotesquery: each gave birth, pushing a tiny worm-like young out into the world with all the maternal beauty of the painful aftermath of a "beans, broccoli, and cabbage" feast night for someone with life-threatening hemorrhoids. The young ones, hungry mouths gnashing, rushed Thaddeus. After reflecting for a silent moment on Hell's endless ingenuity, he dropped to one knee to cast Blessed Hammer.

The young died easily; the mother things less so. Sending a cloud of hammers whirling would get them eventually, but they didn't often approach close enough to make the attack really effective. They preferred to let their young go in first; perhaps they'd been wandering the plains looking for food, and wouldn't spit out their young until they found one. The ash-grey souls scattered around didn't seem fit for their consumption, yet. Once souls have "ripened" enough in their despair and desperation, the lords of Hell deem them fit to be ripped to pieces and reassembled in new, ever-more disgusting forms. Or simply devoured, to fuel the ever-hungry fires that burn within every demon.

Apart from the episodic terror of battle, the plains were the most tedious stretch of ground Thaddeus had ever had to cover. Even the deserts of Lut Gholein were never this empty; there was always some bit of life to take comfort in. Thaddeus never thought he'd see the day when he'd miss scorpions. They were nasty and ugly and venomous, but at least they were natural creatures, not actively malicious. And having thought that, he ruefully realized, Hell would immediately set to work making scorpion monsters. At one point, it became so dull he actually spoke with one of the dead souls littering the ground.

"What do you have there?" he asked an avaricious soul.

"It's mine! You can't have it!" the soul screamed, covering something with its body.

"There is nothing you can use it for, here. You're devoting eternity to something that does you no good."

"IT! IS! MINE!!! It's all I have! Who cares for you, I've got it and it's MINE!!"

'It' was probably three coppers, or a cheap piece of jewelry. It amused Hell to see a miser clinging to the last bit of his collection, only because it was his last. Perhaps an alternate strategy would be more helpful. "How many of those did you have, once?"

With a low growl, the soul clutched about its treasure tighter. "You're just trying to find out what it is, aren't you? Don't even try!"

"You're very clever," Thaddeus told him. Or her. It was hard to say.

"Very clever, cleverer than you! I had thousands. Millions!"

"Truly, you must have been wise in the ways of commerce."

"Kings were at my feet! Dukes at my call! They pressed about me, only a fool wouldn't take them for all they had! Oh, how the money rolled in! Oh, my glory, my glory, the power I wielded with but a single word..." The soul's voice trailed off into mutterings.

"What did you do with it all?"

"Do? What's to do? Get more, that's what to do!! Money is for investing, to get more money! And more, and more! Don't look at me like that, preacher-boy! I gave tithes, my bishop was always glad to see me. A sound investment, a ticket to Heaven! All sins may be forgiven when Heaven is glorified with golden chalices..."

Thaddeus nodded. "Did you have a family? Children?"

The soul spat dust on the ground. "Ingrates! Ungrateful wretches!!"

At the seminary, Thaddeus had heard of a poison described as 'inheritance powder,' useful for getting rid of inconvenient relatives standing between you and a legacy. Whatever family this person had, Thaddeus guessed they took after him in the worst way. The soul was still ranting about spiteful children; Thaddeus didn't want to hear any more, so he kicked its head off. At least this way, Hell would not get the use of it. The treasure was a chipped bit of diamond. Staring at it, Thaddeus shook his head; gems have value in their use. The gems sitting in his locker are valueless, so long as they stay there.

While laying a group of Flesh Mothers (as Thaddeus decided to call them) to rest, a loud bellowing shook his concentration. A huge blue demon, armed with a gigantic blade, slowly came out of a deep pit. Its body seemed to be made of ice or crystal, and a bluish-white spirit could be seen struggling inside. As Thaddeus disposed of the last Flesh Mother, the crystal demon raised its blade and let out a great blast of chilling cold. Perhaps it was ice, surely a rarity in the fiery pit. The ice demon looked dangerous, so Thaddeus lured it back to an empty area, where he'd be able to deal with it without interference.

This demon had to be the one imprisoning Izual. First, Thaddeus cast Blessed Hammer, to see what the hammers would do. They went through with little effect. Physical attacks might be more fruitful, so he zealously bashed away at it. That was better, but the demon still barely noticed. Perhaps the fires of vengeance would help, so Thaddeus called on the spirits of his brother and sister Paladins to smite the demon. Was his arm not strong enough? Nothing seemed to slow it down. Finally, Thaddeus backed away and brought out his maul. A few blows from a sledgehammer might do the trick.

A full-body charge with the maul stunned the demon, and some chips broke away from its body. His blows were damaging it, but it would take a long time to break it. Fortunately, the demon was fairly slow and easy to outwit; Thaddeus could take his time. Every now and then, it would release another frost explosion, but beyond that it was no threat. Eventually its crystalline body shattered under repeated blows, and an ethereal spirit floated up from its remains, laughing and free. Laughing, at least...

"Tyrael was a fool to have trusted me! AH HA HA HA!!"

Sensing that all was not well, Thaddeus cleared his throat. "Hail, noble Izual?"

"Hello, tiny mortal." Izual smiled, obviously immensely pleased with himself. "An obedient servant to the last, like Tyrael and every other idiot in Heaven!"

Thaddeus frowned. "Am I to understand that I have been misinformed?"

That bought even more peals of laughter. "'Misinformed'! A truly impressive capstone to the monument of lies your church is! You place your faith in Heaven. Heaven abandoned you to us, to save themselves!"

"And 'us' is... ?"

"I am the one who told the Three Brothers how to corrupt the soulstones. Now they are batteries and conduits for Hell's power. This was a plan we set in motion centuries ago, and nothing can be done to stop it. You, and all your kind, are doomed."

What a proud defilement this angel is, Thaddeus thought. "What could you possibly hope to gain by this?"

"Power, tiny mortal. I will be master of Hell's legions, overrunning and crushing Heaven and all their hosts. When our plan bears its full fruit... nothing can stop us."

Now Thaddeus thought, what a stupid angel! "You hoped to get power from the Prime Evils, angel? Every Fallen One they hurl at their enemies hoped to gain power from the deal! Your future is to be nothing but an above-average slave."

"You DARE speak to me thus!!?!" the angel roared, its ghostly wings flailing in the air. "Do you think you know anything of power, or what we have in store for you? I am not a fool to be taken in by offerings of gold or petty temptations! When I speak with The Three, I speak as an equal!!"

Without a body, Thaddeus knew the angel was no threat, no matter how angry it got. "An equal. They do not even treat each other well. Do you expect them to let you rule in Hell?"

"Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven," Izual snarled, and floated off into the sky.

Another being, turning to darkness seeking power and freedom, Thaddeus thought. What is it that convinces some that evil means freedom? That they will be allowed to go where they please, and do whatever their black hearts desire? To fall in with darkness is to become a slave; every Fallen One has learned that. Somehow, Thaddeus was not surprised that Izual did not survive his torture and long imprisonment uncorrupted. What on earth or in Heaven cannot be corrupted? Allying with the Prime Evils was unexpected, however. Izual probably was very powerful, and would make the Three an excellent slave. He might even manage to convince himself he was really the master.

Casting a portal to return to the Pandemonium Fortress, Thaddeus reflected on the fallen angel. If ever he'd heard the sin of pride speak, he'd heard it today. A very proud spirit might imagine he could ally with Hell and come out something more than a servant. And in falling, Izual's betrayal would aid Hell's cause immensely. Tyrael was glad when Thaddeus told him he'd found Izual, but greatly concerned when he heard Izual's words.

"I thank you for your mercy on Izual... he was a cherished friend, and faithful companion. Or so I thought. If what you say is true, I have been played for a fool all along."

"We have all been played for fools!" Cain said. "This is terrible! All the sweat, blood, and tears the Horadrim shed pursuing the Three were nothing but part of their plan!"

"This was not a simple plan, I fear," Thaddeus said. "I must confess, I have wondered why Baal chose to remain in the mortal world, when he could easily have returned to Hell."

"He lacks his soulstone, so his power will be limited," Cain said.

"That may not be true," Tyrael murmured. "Baal's soulstone was last in the possession of a weak and fear-filled man. I instructed him that he must take the stone into Hell and destroy it... but this has not happened."

"Tyrael..." Thaddeus cleared his throat. "The journey into Hell is not for the faint of heart."

"No, it is not," the angel bowed his head. "In my haste and alarm, I may have expected too much. Hero, continue your quest. Destroy Mephisto's soulstone, then find and defeat Diablo, wherever he may have hidden himself. Do so with haste, for you may have to seek out Baal as well."

"Don't worry," Cain smiled, patting Thaddeus on the shoulder. "Natalya will seek out Baal, wherever he is. You may not have to at all."

"I hope it can end here," Thaddeus muttered. "I must return to the battlefield. There is no time to waste. I shall return."

After he was gone, Cain said to Tyrael, "Natalya at least slowed him down, I hope?"

"Not enough, I am afraid," Tyrael said. "Baal's personal bodyguard, headed by Lister the Tormentor, was too much for her. His rampage of destruction continues, across Entsteig, and into the Barbarian highlands."

Cain's eyes widened. "Towards Mount Arreat?"

"There is nowhere else he would go."

Below the Plains of Despair, a city lay in ruins. Fallen souls were abundant here, hanging from every building, or stuffed into holes in the broad avenues like paving stones. Balrogs and lightning bats were common, along with a new sort of demon. These were fat, shuffling things with enormous mouths surrounded by tentacles. They could lurch into battle quicker than Thaddeus would have thought, and hit fairly hard; there was obviously a lot of muscle under that blubber. However, their most disagreeable trick was to devour a fallen comrade and spit it back out, half-digested and with great force. A 300-pound meat missile covered with poisonous digestive juices was an impressive way of dealing with a foe. This indelicate tactical maneuver moved them to the top of Thaddeus' "To Be Killed" list, as there were no Flesh Mothers in the city.

The city of the damned had obviously been overrun many times, but no one ever bothered to fix anything. That might involve work, Thaddeus guessed. Even worse, it might make the city a comfortable place to live and take the edge of the demon's anger, and we can't have that, can we? In the city, he found roofless, empty houses, shops selling nothing, and star-shaped church mock-ups covered with filth. Demons came clawing out of every corner; even the damned souls seemed to want a piece of him. After a great deal of effort, he explored every inch of the place, but couldn't find a way further down. Then he looked into one of the glowing red pits scattered about.

It was a soul-searing sight... the River of Flame. Even from a distance, is was painful to behold, burning bright and terrible. Shimmering waves of heat rose from below, carrying with them the roar of the fire's anger and the screams of the damned. A narrow stairway led down, to a small island of something solid in the middle of the flames. As he stood staring into the abyss, one of the souls crushed into the ground spoke to him.

"Scared to go down there?" the soul asked, in a neighborly sort of way.

"Only a fool wouldn't be," Thaddeus said. "I suppose you disagree."

"What makes you say that?"

Thaddeus stared at the lustful soul in disbelief. These were naked souls; all their flaws of character could be clearly seen by anyone. "Just a wild guess."

"Don't you think you're being a little quick to judge?" The soul smiled, in what it hoped would be an ingratiating way. It looked like a leer. "I'm not a bad person; I have no idea why I'm down here. I'm sure this is all a mistake."

"You think so," Thaddeus said, wondering why he was wasting his time with this.

"Sure! Listen: why should Hell even exist? I mean, what's the point?"

Thaddeus felt a headache starting to come on. "That's rather a pointless question."

"You don't get it, do you? Why bother with this 'torture people for eternity'? Nobody gets anything from it. It doesn't make any sense!"

"So, the place where you are has no reason for being... and what has happened to you has no reason for happening?"

The soul shrugged. "Look, you're a Paladin, right? Answer me this: why should the universe care how I live my life?"

Thaddeus sighed. "Hell is not here for a purpose. Hell is, and Heaven is. To think that your torture has a purpose beyond the temporary satisfaction of a demon's malice is flawed in a fundamental way."

"The way I see it is this," the soul continued, as though Thaddeus never spoke. "Each of us is responsible for ourselves, right? So if someone gets upset over what I do, that's their fault! They don't have to get upset about it. What I do is my business, what they do is theirs, they have no right to impose their standards on my life."

"So: all men are islands. Our lives never touch anyone else's. Therefore, we can do as we please, and if someone doesn't like it, it is their responsibility, not ours."

"Exactly! Why should anyone care what I do? I never hurt anybody. They're just trying to impose their standards on me."

"Heaven forbid," Thaddeus said. "I suppose your philosophy must give you some comfort. It seems that the universe has not been working in a reasonable manner, in accordance with your wishes, and owes you an apology. If you will excuse me, I have no time to waste."

As Thaddeus started down the stairs, the soul called after him, "What kind of bullshit was that! You think you're better than me?! Then why are you down here, huh? You're in Hell too, you know! You think you're so great, why are you in Hell too, huh?!"

Thaddeus stopped and looked back. "I'm a tourist, not a resident." He continued down, ignoring the fading cries of the damned.