Tearlach (Act IV)

Template:Tearlach nav So this is Hell, Tearlach thought as he looked around. Doesn't look very hellish. There was a roof over his head, a wall at his back, and comfortingly solid stone under his feet; you could ask for a worse place. After waiting long enough for something monstrous to unexpectedly erupt out of the ground (you never know) he hefted his axe and went to explore. The first thing he saw was the old fart, the one who identified magic for him.

"So, wizard! I knew you'd end up here."

"For once, your instincts were correct! Is this not a glorious place?"

"Eh," Tearlach grunted dismissively. "I expected more."

"Hmm... true, there is not much to see now. In its glory, I am sure this fortress was much more impressive, when the great heroes of yore fought and died here."

Oh, it's a fortress! That explains the walls. "Hmm..." Tearlach said as he tried to think of something intelligent to say, "It's kind of empty. Not much here."

"Sadly, yes. When Heaven withdrew from the mortal realm, their infernal outposts were also abandoned. We are in Pandemonium, now a no-man's-land just outside of Hell's outer steppes. We will not find any more blessed legions waging battle against Hell's might; even demons rarely venture out here. Those days are now only legends."

"Huh. You'd think Hell would be warm, with all the pits of fire and miles of sulfurous wasteland I've heard of. This is a cold place."

Cain smiled. "You should have seen it a moment ago, when the archangel Tyrael arrived with me. A few demons were here, trying to defile these holy stones; his servants were just dispatching them. Now, the walls are clean, the eternal flames are lit, and the Light shines upon us. I am sad to say this is the last place you will find even a glimmer of the Light; you have important work ahead of you."

"Work, and always work," Tearlach grumbled. "You wizards are never satisfied, there's always one more thing to do."

"More than that, I'm afraid. Mephisto's soulstone must be destroyed, here in Hell. Before you try," Cain quickly interjected, "no mortal agency can break a soulstone."

Lowering his axe, Tearlach snorted. "Of course not. It's never that easy, is it?"

"The soulstones were made in Heaven, and made to last; no amount of physical force can damage one. The nearest place to destroy it is the Hellforge, a smithy on the River of Flame that surrounds Hell's inner regions. The forge and hammer are suffused with fire and chaos, and should serve to shatter the corrupted stone. But beware! Hell's smithies are surrounded by hellfire, and tended by the strongest of demonkind."

"As though that's ever been a problem," Tearlach snorted. Then he noticed the glowy thing hanging in the air next to a fireplace. "Hey, that's that angel!"

"Yes," Cain said. "Had I mentioned that Tyrael brought me here?"

"I suppose. I never listen to anything you say. Think he's still mad at me?"

With a sigh, Cain said, "I didn't know he was ever angry with you. What did you do?"

"Nothing," Tearlach quickly said. Then he thought, I finished off Mephisto. That should impress an angel. I'll speak with him; it's about time I started getting a little respect.

"Greetings, mortal. It is good to know you have defeated Mephisto."

"Hail, Tyrael. Good to see someone else could do what you couldn't, eh?"

There was an infinitesimal pause. "While you have destroyed the body he was using, Mephisto's spirit is unvanquished. The soulstone traps him and will hold him for a short time, but it must be destroyed here, cutting off his power at its source."

"Yeah, yeah, the old man told me about it. Hellforge, river of fire, all that."

"The assault on the Hellforge will not be easy. My own lieutenant, Izual, attempted the assault in ages past, and was captured alive be Hell's forces. There are tortures known in Hell which even an angel cannot bear. Many of Heaven's greatest secrets were taken from him by force."

Tearlach shrugged. "So I won't get taken alive. I was born ready to meet death. Don't know if he's ready to meet me, though!"

"Izual still roams the plains of Pandemonium, rejected by Heaven for his betrayal. As a punishment, he was imprisoned within the body of an ice demon. A harsh punishment, when so few of Heaven's brethren could have done any differently."

"Harsh punishments are good. Makes sure no one ever does it again."

"Punishments that go on forever are pointless, especially when they may be unjustified. I believe Izual has suffered enough. Hero, if you find him, destroy the demon holding him and release him from his torment."

"Huh. I suppose even an angel deserves to be free. What if your elders object?"

"Let any punishment rest on my head alone. I have failed at so many things, any further judgments against me will be moot."

"Ha! Like failing to stop Diablo? You should never have left the war! Thought you could hide up in Heaven forever, and now look at you! You've gone soft, and can't even take on one demon!"

After another infinitesimal pause, Tyrael continued. "I was thinking of when I brought the soulstones to the mortal realm. I have no idea how they could be corrupted, but The Three found a way, and are using what was intended to be their prisons for their own ends."

"Imprisonment is stupid. Better to just kill them -- no, wait, demons don't die. I remember that, the old fart told me. Hey, he also said the stones came from Heaven! Can't Heaven destroy what it made? You could smash Mephisto's stone!"

"That might be possible, and even appropriate. But Heaven has denied me the right to destroy the soulstones, or aid you in any way, save providing a few bits of wisdom. This is the final chapter of a long battle. Heaven has decreed that the triumph must belong to mortal man alone."

Tearlach slowly nodded. "So you'll do nothing?"

"My power holds this fortress for the Light. Beyond its walls, I will do nothing."

Tearlach spat. "Then may Heaven grant me the strength to deal with Hell alone. If not, to Hell with you all."

The servants Cain mentioned were on the other end of the fortress. Both had set up little shops, like common merchants. Heaven works in mysterious ways. The smith was a huge man wearing enough armor to convince anyone that his strength must be truly legendary. At least, Tearlach thought, the smith is a man this time. Hratli wasn't female, but that's about all the good you could say for him. His shop carried strong armor and weapons, but nothing worth a second glance to Tearlach. In another wing of the fortress, a strange dark woman in mirror-bright armor ran a magic shop. Attractive lass, though he'd never seen a sorceress wearing that much metal before; she too must be quite strong. To his disappointment, she was as cold and unresponsive as anything else in the fort. Neither of them would say more than four words at a time to him.

The fortress gate was open, to Tearlach's surprise. People who hide behind walls may be weak, but they usually have enough sense to close the door. Then he looked outside; the fortress was floating high in a dark sky, above a vast ash-gray plain. One set of tiny stone stairs, floating like the fortress itself, led down. This fortress would be hard to take, if the demons couldn't fly. It made him wonder why they put up walls at all, since they wouldn't stop the only demons capable of reaching them. Ah, what did it matter? His business is down there: finding Diablo and Baal and crushing the life out of them before they can raise their army. That won't leave time for dawdling. The time to move is now!