Varnae (Chapter 31)
Template:Varnae nav Dear Diary,
What an overly sentimental gush my last entry was! True, I had grown to enjoy Nihlathak's company, and the loss of his knowledge is a sad one, unless he wrote his discoveries down, which he certainly ought to have. Writing is a remarkable invention, I wish more wise people would take advantage of it. Deckard Cain, for instance, always carries about a book, though I have never seen him refer to it once. Sometime, I shall have to get it away from him and see what the deuce he's so fond of it for. Perhaps Khaleel could give me a few words of advice on stealing books.
Where was I? Oh, Nihlathak. Every barbarian in Harrogath was howling about his "betrayal" giving Baal the Worldstone. This worried me as well, I confess, for I had fallen into the error of confederacy: simply because I am allied with some force does not mean I share all their goals. To repeat: who gives a fig for the Worldstone? Let Tyrael and his savage servants wail and gnash their teeth over their precious rock! The Lord of Destruction is my enemy, my intent only the protection of the mortal world, leavened with a certain amount of personal vengeance. I had gone back to Atma's and had consumed my first Black Mushroom before that epiphany struck me -- bless that evil fungus for the mind-altering poisons which grant such clarity of vision! Don't mind the black spots before the eyes and the barmaid turning into a tentacled monster, an experienced imbiber learns to ignore all that.
Now, I have come back to Harrogath to resume the chase. From my perspective, Nihlathak's giving Baal the Relic of What-have-you is to my advantage -- now, I know exactly where to find Destruction. Best not tell anyone, they think I value the Worldstone as they do, and it is to my advantage to let them go on thinking that.
Off to battle! Khaleel is concerned that my present state of mind will prove disadvantageous for this little adventure, but I can assure him I drunk just as well when fight. Or intoxicated! Black Mushrooms don't really intoxicate anyway, the senses sharpen and the mind reels with pleasure as you see things as you want them to be. Drink too many, and you see things as they truly are, but I have had only one and am in no danger of that horror. The closest I have been to the summit is the ice caves, best to resume the climb from there. According to Anya, a side branch exits much higher, near another set of caves. Pleasant enough girl, this Anya, competent and knowledgeable, but entirely without womanly charms. Oh, my dearest Natalya... such a beautiful island of arrogant irrationality, a blessed relief from the dull cares of carnal existence. Soon, we will be together again.
Demons in the caves: Frozen Creepers and Death Maulers. Ice and earth! According to the theory of Sanguinity, an idea first attributed to Trismageni, many lesser demons are created during battles between Heaven and Hell, when the blood or ichor of a powerful being falls on some receptive material. Earth demons, Ice demons, Lava demons, and various plant demons are well known. Why are they always demons, I wonder, even when the blood which created them was shed by an angel? Evil must be stronger than good. Don't tell the Zakarum, they might fall all to pieces. Oh wait, they already have. Ha ha! A few zombies guard a small temple area in one large cave. If circumstances allow, servants can survive their creator by centuries, though these ones do not.
This is Khaleel. This guy is such a freak. He's giggling! At least he's not screaming anymore, man that got on my nerves. What did I say about the Nilly guy? A hot babe like Anya comes along, nothing. He wants a creepy old fart or a leather vamp. Freak.
Ha ha! My happy smile (thanks to the Black Mushroom, I cannot quite conceal it) brightened Qual-Kehk's day so much, he told me everything I needed to know about how to reach the Worldstone. These people interpret joy in the face of impending annihilation as a sign of bravery. In my case, it's a sign of marching into combat with one Black Mushroom too many inside me. The Worldstone is, naturally, hidden in the most obvious place: the very tip-top of the mountain, guarded by gods who must deem a supplicant worthy before he may enter and see the holy of holies. Interestingly, he described the gods as the Ancient Ones. Could this mean that some remains of the Precursors can be found at the peak? Are there ancient guardians, perhaps some advanced zombies, or mummies preserved by the cold, dry air? Or will I only find superstitions and whispering ghosts? Whichever way things turn out, I am sure to find much to reward me there.
Continuing on, always upwards. Burial urns become more frequent the further I go, both the ancient relics and the modern excuses. The Precursor urns are all trapped, but I have grown so accustomed to the "surprise" it means nothing now. Perhaps in those antique days, tomb robbers did not come armed and prepared for battle, so thieves rarely survived an encounter with a trapped urn and there was no need to vary their results. It also occurs to me that the Precursor people were accustomed to using their servants in ways it would be cruel to use a human being, placing them in limbo for centuries until a jar should be opened. Only my people now use servants thus, packing them into barrels and the like. Could there be a deeper connection between us, or do I flatter myself?
The journey is not going well. These caves are the most confusing I have ever explored, so much so that drinking even one Black Mushroom before entering may have been unwise. A few others have been here before me; I have found their remains frozen solid into postures of supplication. Such brave fellows. Earlier, I had wondered if the ice had been carved into human-like shapes, but I suspect a more sinister origin now. Then again, I could be wrong -- Succubi guard this section of caves, and may be responsible. I imagine a Succubus would like her men hard enough to break. I should not let idle speculation distract me, however; the frozen men are a mystery, I'd best stay moving so as not to share their fate.
Finally! I have reached the surface; it is now mid-afternoon. Trees are abundant, leading me to guess that Hell has not reached this height.
I spoke much too soon. Of course Destruction has been by here, and doubtless ordered his minions not to touch the trees; they would all be destroyed had he not. Imps, cursed little teleporters, are using the woods to their advantage, firing their annoying little smoke-bomb missiles from behind every tree and bush. Ah, they were ordered not to fell the trees! A giant Crush Beast tried to approach through the trees, taking almost comical care not to disturb a single twig. Why preserve the forest, I wonder? To fool me? To taunt me? Only one being knows, and I doubt he will answer honestly.
What a tedious business this is! The pattern of defense is so predictable: a sea of Imps between walls manned by Plated Demons, with the occasional crusher added like a meatball in sauce. Now, here is another infernal pit, just like those before it. His brothers had more imagination. Perhaps Destruction is simply well-named: Terror and Hatred are mental states, some thought must be involved to appreciate them, but Destruction is as simple as breaking glass or pitching over a cliff. Perhaps if Diablo or Mephisto had possessed Tal Rasha, the result might have been a more worthy foe, but no amount of magical knowledge will make Baal anything more than a predictable oaf.
Man o man, those bull-guy dudes are bad. Boss is running around with some, but these ones are immune to cold! He's screaming at me like its my fault. What am I supposed to do?
Again, I spoke too soon. In the pit I found a group of Minotaurs immune to Khaleel's chilling blasts. A few rounds of combat with them dashed my Bone Armor to bits, and I was forced to flee the field. Victory through sniveling cowardice is my specialty, however, and I was able to kill them all in time. Poor Khaleel! He bravely interposed himself between the danger and myself a few times, but it must be frustrating to feel so useless in the face of such a threat. Like most sorcerers, he tends to focus overmuch, never realizing that a broad skill base has advantages over expertise with a single spell. From here on out, we must be more cautious. And, I must find something for him to do when facing an enemy immune to his magic. Not that I need his help -- he just behaves intolerably when forced to be idle.
That infernal pit was unusual. Like the others, it was made of stones dropped into the River of Flame, but seemed to have been constructed with more care. Walls decorated with spikes and pentagrams graced the upstream sides of the pathways. Perhaps this section is older than those I found below, though that would imply that Destruction opened his first infernal pits high on the mountain. That would be strange indeed.
While bashing and dashing up this tundra, the answer came to me! The demon lord Baal is in possession of Tal Rasha, and his knowledge. The Horadrim built many waypoints here on Mt. Arreat, indicating knowledge of the Worldstone and its location. When Destruction came, he must have made straight for the peak, but could not move on from there to the Worldstone itself. Something (or someone) does guard the peak, and was powerful enough to repulse a lord of Hell. Since then, he has laid waste to the area, opening infernal gates as he moves around. I still do not know why this forest has been left intact, though it is doubtless an unimportant detail for Destruction. More importantly, those guardians still wait at the peak, and may need to be neutralized. But if these guardians were made by the Precursors, it may take cleverness to deal with them, rather than raw muscle; if that is the case, it is only natural that Baal should fail.
Night is falling. As I have not slept in two days, I happily retire from the field, technically giving a few surviving Imps a short-lived victory. A new charm was among my possessions, and a note in a familiar hand:
"Congratulations! It's been a rough road, but I know you can finish it! Here's the last thing I have for you, a Fungal Grand Charm of Greed! Not great, but believe it or not, this is the only +skills charm we have. Use it well, and watch out for the Ancients!
-- The Mule"
"Fungal"? Lovely. I suppose I should carry this thing around... well, it is to my advantage, and no one will ever see it. Smell it, perhaps, but the thin air should help that. No more analysis now. Sleep beckons.