|Diablo 2: Pondera: Act 1: Acerbitas
Author: Rastaban Bright PM
DISCONTINUED Use it as a reference for the hilarity of how badly I used to write. Hurr durr. It's terrible. I mean, who calls their character Darkness? Ugh.Rated: Fiction T - English - Horror/Adventure - Chapters: 4 - Words: 9,617 - Reviews: 29 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 6 - Updated: 06-30-07 - Published: 09-22-05 - id: 2589088
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Before I begin. I would like to thank two people.
Bob the Barbarian: You rock mate, you've been like…my oober friend. Even though you're on the other side of the world.
The Prenologikal Cat: This girl here? (Go us Aussies) Yeah, she gave me some lifesaving pointers. And now. The story is bein' re-done… again. But it WILL work. I DEMAND IT!!!!
And no I don't do the 'oh squee look at me I got reviews', I just think I need to publicly thank these two, seeing as just how much they have helped. Man, I'm a butt kisser.
Now the thing about the story this time is, it isn't supposed to be comedic. It follows my personal character that I have made up lots of stuff for. I own her. She is copyrighted to me. Unless without my knowing Blizzard created the Draconys-Necros.
A man sees in the world what he carries in his heart.
- Opening scene of "Faust"
--- --- ---
The long awaited night toppled coolly onto the camp, nevertheless, it was too late.
A lone figure stumbled sobbing into the village of carcasses of buildings, and messes of bodies strewn everywhere.
A hand dangled out of a pile of rubble that burnt mercilessly, she recognised a tattoo on it; the ivy wrapped around a sword carefully inked into the wrist.
She ran towards it, heedless of the fierce fire, burning away at her skin.
"Illareth!" She cried her brother's name amid the torture and destruction.
The shadows moved.
The young woman trod on a plank of wood that was part of the rubble, it crumbled under the last amount of pressure it could withstand, the rubble pile shifted, and the hand tumbled to the ground, unattached to its former body.
She was horrified; she span on her heel and cast her gaze across the carnage in the place where she had lived her whole life.
Here, a wing with all the bones snapped and nowhere was the body to whom it belonged; there a delicate patterned snake-like tail; here the head of a friend she once knew, his fangs bared in anger or agony, his leathery hide ripped and cast away.
By a fire one of her people half transformed, the leather wings that spouted from her back were ripped and torn, one lost completely, and another figure with its internal organs spilled carelessly across the ground
The shadows moved into the light, laughter and cackling air.
But she was gone. So far gone that, when she turned to face the vile creatures that had violated everything she lived for, her eyes were coloured as the void, and the small acid gold beheld the demons that desecrated her home.
In a flash, there was a dragon among them, tearing with claws, teeth, darkest fire licking bones to blackest ashes. Then they were gone.
--- --- ---
She found him, a teacher and almost a father when she had lost her own, in her madness she performed the ritual to absorb his memories.
And all the darkness leeched to her heart.
She slept among the massacre.