Thaddeus (Chapter 7)

Template:Thaddeus nav 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.