Authors Note

Hey guys, this is Giacomo here. I am SO sorry it took me this long to update, I am going to state straight away I am just really lazy this time. I wrote and re-wrote so many things in this chapter I just got so stuck, I ended up not quite completing it for a while and needed to deal with life. I am back though and I plan on writing the next chapter soon, maybe do it at work in my off time, I will say though you guys will not need to wait for the next chapter as I have got some great ideas. I have also been playing Reaper of Souls in my off-time, its so good I may change up the boss fights to re-enact the old versions or the new versions depending on how good they are, I still haven't gone back to old boss fights since they changed them though, except Act 3's bosses; I like what Blizz did there.

Well I am just going to shut up now, I will let you get on with the story. This chapter is so much larger than my past ones, I didn't know where to properly cut-off. Also you may see that I have done more than just explain in brief flashbacks what happened to get into the HP world but I felt that I was doing the Diablo universe some dishonesty and not retell the story and show how bad ass it could be. So I will be spending quite a few chapters retelling the chapters with a few changes coming up, just sit back and enjoy guys. Enjoy and review guys, I am happy to get constructive criticism guys.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Universe, all rights go to J.K Rowling; all characters and concepts of the Harry Potter Universe; both good and bad, are property of J.K Rowling. I also do not own the Diablo Franchise, all rights go to Blizzard Entertainment. This story is for the express purpose of entertainment only.

Chapter 3

The sun beat down on the tanned form of the young Witchdoctor, the dry parched air of the desert harshly drying his eyes and mouth as young Hawe sat on the outskirts of the secret base camp overlooking the immense City of Caldeum contemplating on the events that lead to this moment. It was the morning that would, hopefully, shape the history of Sanctuary; the possible defeat and slaying of the Lord of Lies, Belial. The scene spread before the young Witchdoctor was something quite foreign for him growing up in the simple settlements of the Umbaru, the city seemed to stretch for miles and towered high in the sky higher than many of the taller trees in the Torajan Jungle would ever grow. The bold colours of Caldeum seemed to blend in quite nicely with the desolate span of desert surrounding the city, the outskirts of the city containing a simple yet elegant marketplace in an Arabian-like kind of style. With features such as walls of pure white stone, colourful sheets of stained, hand crafted glass and boldly coloured fabrics shading the citizens on the path below, the city although in such a harsh environment was a scene of elegance and prosperity.

It was so unlike the hastily made houses of New Tristram that Hawe encountered not a month ago, the gloomy darkness surrounded the hills and woods surrounded the fortified town; an always present stench of death and rot in the air not very unlike home in the jungle. There seemed to be a permanent state of depression in the air when he arrived at New Tristram, the hopelessness of the people affected the very vibe of the town like a blanket; thick and oppressive. As Hawe sat surveying the sights of Caldeum he reminisced on the events that undertook in the months that led to this moment.

Deckard Cain was silent as he reflected on the young Witchdoctor's words; a knot of doubt grew in his stomach but pushed it aside for now, what was important was identifying the fallen star and unfortunately the Mad King Leoric also known as the Skeleton King was directly in the way of discovering what exactly hit the old Tristram Cathedral. Cain promised to himself he would help Hawe as much as he could, maybe there was a chance that the fallen star would be identified and the Prophesy of the End of Day's may be left unfulfilled.

'I will help you my young friend, to fulfil your quest you must defeat the Skeleton King who barres your way from your objective' Cain explained wearily, heavily leaning on his walking staff as the adrenaline from his lucky escape left his weary old boy exhausted, he would rest his weary body in due time.

'But to fully vanquish our enemy, we need to fully awaken him' Cain continued, Leah and Hawe frowned at this statement.

'What do I need to do?' Hawe asked with determination on his face, Cain frowned slightly and explained.

'You need to find Leoric's Crown and place it on the top of the foul king's head, until you do this the newly risen dead will not stop attacking this town'

Hawe just nodded at this explanation, Leah bit her bottom lip in thought as she wrapped her arms around herself in thought.

'Seek our town's blacksmith, Haedrig, he will know where the crown lies. You will find him near the south gate'

Hawe nodded and turned making his way past the tavern, his zombie dogs following him obediently via a silent, mental command. As he disappeared around the corner Leah turned towards Cain with a worried look.

'Do you think he can do it Uncle Deckard?' Leah asked with doubt heavily in her voice,

'-I don't know Leah, but we need to trust in his skills. For a person young as he is, he is a skilled young man.'

'What shall we do in the mean time Uncle?' Leah asked looking where the young Witchdoctor disappeared.

'We wait...and we hope'

It was 3 days following the rescue of Deckard Cain and the start of Hawe's quest to down the Skeleton King, at that exact time he was stalking the crumbling ruins of Tristram Cathedral. The twisting and turning of the Cathedral's catacombs was like an elaborate labyrinth of crumbling halls, dangerous plunging crevasses, old and rotting library's and decrepit staircases; it seemed like everything around him was falling apart by the minute. He was glad he was not alone in this endeavour though, his companion stood by his side as they navigated through the grimy inner sanctum. Kormac was an interesting person, he was a member of the Templar Order; a dark haired warrior heavily armoured strong and proud. Hawe had saved Kormac on his first day of his adventure from a group of cultists, imprisoning the man in a cage of fire. After saving the proud Templar and retrieving his armour and weapons, he was indebted to the young Witchdoctor and with his sturdy shield and deadly lance in hand, the majority of the risen dead were quick to dispatch.

Hawe was weary at this point, during these 3 days he had not slept and only rested shortly in town after retrieving the Crown of Leoric. It was finally time though, it was time to take down the Skeleton King and bring some needed relief to New Tristram. At that time Hawe and Kormac were close to Leoric's Chamber, after braving the horrors of the Royal Tomb with the throngs of undead creatures including rotting, slow lumbering zombies, dusty but deadly skeleton warriors and even the abominations that is the Unburied; large spike covered creatures made up of the rotting corpses of people thrown in mass graves. The Witchdoctor and Templar were in a dusty tomb, the air was cold and stale which irritated their throats, mountains of clay urns covered in webs littered the walls and stone floor. A fine layer of ash and bone covered the floor as they shuffled along, finally after fighting so long their quest was near an end. A tall door, at least 10 feet tall, made of tarnished metals and decorated with cracked and chipped precious stones stood in their way.

'Beyond this door lies the Skeleton King' Kormac said, resting his shield on the cluttered ground.

'Yes, and beyond that the fallen star' Hawe said with determination even though dark shadows mottled his dirty face, his eyes slightly red and bags under his green emerald eyes.

'I want to thank you for letting me join you, to battle evil is what it means to be a Templar' Kormac said as he checked the straps on his breastplate, lifting his shield high. Hawe just smiled and brushed the dust from his shoulder's.

'I am happy to have you Kormac, come let us finish this' Hawe exclaimed, pushing on the heavy looking door opening it with a groan and the scraping of metal on metal; the shuddering of the door picking up dust and grime. Opening the door with some effort, they entered a small chamber with two exits, what would have been lavish decorations were now tattered and in disrepair; the blue and crimson carpet now threadbare and an ashen colour. They slowly entered the main chambers, the walls of the narrow hall littered with broken urns and fragments of bone and stone flaked off from the crumbling ceiling. The hallway ended and open up to a massive throne room like chamber, the walls were flaky and speckled with what appeared to be dried blood and stacks of urns full of dust scattered in piles against the walls. Just ahead up a shallow set of steps sat a figure on a tarnished stone and metal throne, the remains of Leoric the Mad King sat.

It was a ghastly figure, the man must have been a giant in his lifetime almost 7 feet in hight, his hair long and stringy coming from whatever skin he had remaining on his scalp. He was wearing some elaborate scale armour and plate greaves, covered in gold and a black stained metal; he held a massive two handed mace over 6 feet in length, the head covered in long black metal spikes and slightly larger than 3 large bowling balls. The Skeleton King though was still, his armour not yet complete causing his spirit to roam the Cathedral. Hawe paced steadily to the body of his enemy, the Crown of Leoric being released from a strap on his belt. With great caution he lay the Crown on the head of Leoric, backing away as the wailing of the spirits from the Unformed Land deafened him slightly, the feeling of wind-like displacement rushed to the Skeleton King's body as his spirit rushed back to his body and trapping it there. An unholy red light ignited in the sockets of the Skeleton King, it burned like brimstone an evil presence showed in his gaze.

His arm moved towards his mace, seeing this Hawe drew out a machete like knife from a sheath on his waist; a grisly looking mojo dangled from a leather strap gripped in his other hand. Kormac raised his shield as the Skeleton King rose to his feet, the grinding of bone on bone as his joints protested to the weight of the mace now laid on the shoulder plates of the menacing Leoric. Streams of ectoplasm like wisps streamed from the Skeleton King, floating to various urns around the room summoning three skeleton warriors with dented metal shields and deadly curved swords. With an evil, booming chuckle the Skeleton King advanced on his foes, the bodies of these men would serve as his slaves for all eternity not that he was whole once again. Hawe hooked his mojo to his waist as Kormac rushed to engage upon the skeleton warriors, swinging his lance with precision decapitating one foe with deadly accuracy. Hawe cupped his hand igniting it with a red hot fireball, throwing it at the closest skeleton; it gave form in mid-air looking like a skull covered in flames, it combusted with a large amount of energy taking the skeleton out and blowing off the shield arm of the remaining skeleton warrior. Kormac dispatched the last warrior, crushing his foe with his sturdy shield with a strike to the skull.

The Skeleton King wasn't phased though, with surprising speed he ran straight at Kormac and with an amazing amount of strength swung his mace like a light stick, smacking the brave Templar back 10 feet and heavily damaging his shield like it was made of aluminium foil. Seeing this, and knowing that he had no choice he decided to summon his zombie dogs; making them magically erupt from the crumbled ground, it did not feel like it was enough though as his minions distracted lobbed 3 more Skull of Flames, impacting his armour and while causing some dents and scorch marks did not phase his enemy. With a mighty swing, the Skeleton King's mace made contact with one of the annoying zombie dogs, reducing it to a pile of gore and bone, with a back-swing he just nicked another dog but shredding the leg off the unfortunate minion. It was looking grim, it would seem that more power would be needed in this fight. While Kormac ducked and weaved around his foe, Hawe dashed to a nearby pile of dusty clay jars and selecting a more intact jar out of the pile. Without a grimace he nicked his hand drawing blood and with great finesse drew a grisly looking symbol on the jar. Knowing the ingredients in the jar would be enough for his spell he tossed the jar with a sharp guttering incantation in the direction of the Skeleton King.

The flung jar shattered with a large bang, instead of the familiar white flecks of bone scattering across the cracked stone floor, a swarm of palm sized, emerald green and pitch black spiders skittered like a green, venomous wave towards the lumbering figure of Leoric. The large arachnids scampered up the armoured legs of Leoric, some attached themselves to the brittle straps and joints of Leoric's leg plates and the rest started attacking the delicate tendon sinews and crumbling knee joints of the Skeleton King. As the tiny fangs penetrated the soft tissues of Leoric, acidic enzymes ate away at the Skeleton Kings knees; a couple seconds later the duration of the spell ended causing spiders to pop like pustules and oozed caustic acid, weakening the joints and leg plates of Leoric further. This caused a momentary lull in the fight Kormac taking advantage of Leoric's inattentiveness and struck the Skeleton King, with a solid blow he severed the end of Leoric's mace, cutting it effectively in half. The time was now, to bring down the mighty foe for good, Hawe realised that basic spell were not going to work and withdrew a small drawstring bag from his waist; withdrawing a miniaturised black and grey looking effigy from the bag smelling of various herbs and stunk of dead corpses. With his still bleeding hand the 'anointed' the head of the effigy with his blood and deftly drawing a symbol on the stone ground.

Placing the humanesque effigy on the blood covered ground and uttering a magic incantation from the back of his throat Hawe summoned his most powerful summon, the Gargantuan; a 7 foot zombie with three long fetishes sticking out his back, humanoid in shape he had fists the size of a small tree with a grey-brownish colour in appearance the mindless creature was a brute, overpowering his foes with inhuman strength. With a groan it stumbled to the Skeleton King whose sights was now on killing the Templar foolish enough to strike a blow on him, it swung its oversized fist and struck a solid blow on the face of the Skeleton King. A sharp shattering sound rang in the chamber as the blow cracked the jawbone of the Skeleton King, dislocating it and shattering it on the cold stone ground. The oversized zombie used that moment to pin his opponents arms to his side, trapping the Skeleton King in place; Hawe commanding the remaining zombie dogs to attack the vulnerable mad king and readied what he hoped would be his last spell. Cupping his empty, bleeding hand and then squeezing it into a fist while muttering, at that time the Gargantuan and remaining zombie dogs exploded with great energy, the blast was ear piercing spreading their remains throughout the throne room. After the ringing in their ears subsided, Hawe and Kormac carefully approached where the Skeleton King once stood.

Surprising the Skeleton King still lived although the Corpse Explosion but it took a huge toll on Leoric's skeletal body, his legs were pulverised in the explosion and his right arm up to his shoulder blade missing; the remains of his once mighty mace held in his left hand, shattered and useless. He seemed almost pitiful in his condition, it was time to finish what they came to do and finish the evil ex-monarch one and for all and bring some safety and relief to the people of New Tristram.

'No...I will not be defeated, I will not be defeated!' the Skeleton King bellowed,

' is done Leoric, you do not belong to this world any longer. It is time for your madness to end and for you to go to the Unformed Land' Hawe answered almost sadly, raising his machete to strike down his foe, the Mad King just bellowed as his undead life ended.


Hawe brought his machete down on his opponents neck severing his skull from the body, as this happened the body of the Mad King glowed a pale blue, starting off as a slight glow to the point there it was getting uncomfortable to look at, unexpectedly the remains of Leoric combusted in sapphire coloured flames and exploded; his armour and 'body parts' scattering around the chamber.

'It is done, the townsfolk will be safer that that monster is no more' said Cormac proudly, resting his lance, Hawe nodded with a faint smile, bandaging his bleeding hand with a strip of linen.

'Come, let us find the fallen star' said Hawe, sheathing his machete and running his hands over the throne and the surrounding wall. It took close to an hour to find the false wall, it opened up to a winding, narrow passage covered in dust, grime and cobwebs. As they got to the end of the passage it opened up to what was a large spiral stair case, however whatever the star was had impacted the centre of the stair making it perilous to descend; parts of the stair case were obliterated and would prove difficult to navigate. The impact sight glowed a bright sapphire colour, the glow spread out like veins carrying luminescent life blood to the surrounding stone, the stone was cracked like spiders webs stretching out where the impact occurred. Carefully Hawe and Kormac made their way to the base of the staircase, dodging rubble and the weird energy that arced up to create a static like feeling. As they reached the end they heard a surprising sound, the groan of a human man; right where the epicentre of the impact laid the pitiful figure of a bald headed man, dressed in robes curled up in the foetal position.

It was all surreal to Hawe, he had come all this way leaving his home and faced all this danger; the fallen star that was foreseen by the spirits of the Unformed Land was not actually a star at all, but a man.

Hawe stopped reminiscing about the shock that he got at that point, he heard his name being called as he shook himself from his thoughts.

The camp was just a set of linen tents with a portable blacksmith shop for the blacksmith Haedrig, the inhabitants an unlikely group of people but they were willing to put everything on the line to bring about Belial's end. The rag tag group of people looked odd together but they were all dependable people, the sturdy figure of Kormac with his shield and lance checked his helm for damage after a particularly nasty fight, the long dark haired, leather wearing, pencil moustachioed Lyndon adjusting the tension on his auto fed crossbow and the petite, willowy figure of the blonde haired Eirena sat with her twisted and gnarled staff drinking some water from her water skin. Hawe approached the rag tag group, just as Lyndon shouldered his crossbow.

'So, when shall we be off?' Lyndon questioned, eager to press on.

'Yes, we must make haste.'

The stranger that fell from the sky had lost his memory, not knowing what he was or why he came; all Cain could surmise from observation was that he must have been some kind of warrior, the sword that fell with him that broke in three pieces would hopefully bring back his memories and maybe finally some answers. The blade of the sword had already been found in a Khazra's Den, the goat-men had been driven wild by the mere presence of the obviously powerfully magical sword. The blade was a spectacular silver, almost white colour, it seemed to be very ornately forged when it was made, it was wrapped in an old cloak for protection and kept with the old Horadric scholar. When they found the first piece of the sword they also discovered the evil behind the cultists giving them so much trouble, an evil witch named Maghda. Maghda was a slender woman, pale as death with dark eyes, she wore a flowing magenta dress with a black corset and long purple coloured leather boots, she sported a horned headpiece and flew with wings like a beetle.

For some reason the Coven wanted the stranger's sword, they could not let such a powerful object get in the hands of such nefarious people. They had just been joined by a scoundrel by the name of Lyndon, a dark long haired pencil moustachioed man, clothed in leather and toting an auto fed crossbow. Although he seemed to be a ladies man and a selfish thief, he was willing to follow and help in exchange for his share of any gold rewarded; good help was scarce and he seemed to be a capable sort. The group was currently returning the spherical keys to a place called the Drowned Temple, an old structure built in honour of fallen ancient warriors; they were warned though by the guardian of the temple; the spirit of a powerful warrior named Alaric that 'only a Nephalem could enter its sacred halls'. The group consisting of Hawe, Leah, Kormac and Lyndon were in a withered and dying forest, the spirits of Mbwiru Eikura were screaming out in agony over the tragic past; there were a great many battles there. The withered canopy opened up to a mouldy and crumbling set of stairs, the sound of running water filled the air as they left the stifling and stale jungle air.

'So what are Nephalem, I don't think I have heard of them before' Lyndon asked as they shuffled through the dying forest with the crunching of dead leaves.

'Uncle Deckard told me once Nephalem were a race of powerful warriors said to be the spawn of angels and demons but there haven't been any Nephalem for over a millennium'

'Regardless we must return these orbs to Alaric, we must get the next sword piece before Maghda or her foul cultists grab it for whatever nefarious reasons' Kormac exclaimed as they encountered a small group of skeleton warriors garbed in ancient and rusted armour. Hawe just nodded, keeping his wits about him whilst also communicating with the spirits around him; a pearly tear dropping from the corners of his eyes. They made short work of the skeleton warriors, Hawe with his loyal zombie dog summons demolishing one opponent, Kormac knocking over one skeleton with a mighty shield bash finishing it with a crushing stomp to the skull and Lyndon dipping a bolt in a pouch full of combustible materials and with a small explosion dealt with 2 opponents at once. Once they made it to the entrance to the temple, they carefully inserted the white, glowing fist sized orbs into the key spaces on the stone posts and with a disturbing scrape of stone on stone a thin, rock platform linked the ruined entrance to the platform where they stood.

'You may enter but be warned my brethren guards the depths of our most sacred place' Alaric warned, making his presence known to the group as he started to fade into nothingness, returning to his eternal duty as protector of the Drowned Temple.

The group made their way through the ruined entranceway, the walls surrounding them dripping with moisture and covered in moss and fungi, a rotting stench filled the air as they perilously crossed a rotting rope bridge which had miraculously survived the years. What was once a marvel was now a mess of sludgy mess and foul smelling lichen, the Drowned Temple really did live up to its name as it was quite flooded with foul smelling stagnant water, surprisingly Leah was filled with awe at the sight of the ruins.

'Wow...look at the architecture of this place, this place looks like it would predate the Sin War.'

'Keep a sharp eye Leah, the spirits are warning me that we are not alone.' Hawe said summoning a horde of zombie dogs, the threat becoming apparent as the path opened up revealing a small army of skeletal warriors armed with rusted iron swords and shields, some of them outfitted in simple linen clothes that fell apart as they moved while others wore armour that at one point would have been quite detailed and elaborate but now were cracked and falling apart.

'Rise my brothers, rise and do battle!' a booming spectral voice bellowed, the echo of the ghostly voice bouncing around the cavernous temple.

What would have been a mighty army had been reduced to a crumbling mindless horde, although commanded by an intelligent spirit floating around the air like a large yellow firefly, it took no time bar a few cuts and bruises to demolish the skeletal army. Kormac had just crushed the skull of a particularly tough and wily opponent when the misty figure of Alaric appeared, his spectral body more defined. It appeared he would have been a powerful warrior at one time, his ethereal armour would have one time had been quite elaborate though practical at the same time. He stood with his arms crossed but with a slight smug expression on his face looking at Hawe and slightly pacing.

'Your strength rivals that of our greatest champions. What now do you think you are?'

'I know what you say Alaric, but for me it is not possible' Hawe said grimly. Alaric just frowned at Hawe's statement but turned towards a heavy stone door to his left, a light electric blue glow emanating from the cracks and crevices that marred the once elaborate stone door.

'Remove the thing that fell into our temple, my people grow restless the longer it remains' Alaric said fading away into nothingness like smoke in the wind.

It took the efforts of Hawe, Kormac and Lyndon to open this stone door, the ages of neglect and water logging clogged whatever hinges the once sturdy door had and made the recalcitrant door not want to budge. With a welcoming sound of stone grinding on stone along with the squelch of filth that accumulated at the door, the brave adventurers laid their eyes on the inner sanctum of the Drowned Temple; revealing what would have been the most sacred of places for the ancient Nephalem people. What once would be a rich looking room filled with colourful frescoes and enchanting mosaics had now fallen into a state of absolute destitution, the colour from the frescoes long since washed away and the walls of the inner sanctum worn away after a millennium of abuse. The once immaculate mosaics of Nephalem warriors had been reduced to rubble and covered in filth in sections where the rubble was not. Overall it was a grim sight to behold, what would have once laid a large stone tablet used as an altar was amazingly pierced and shattered by a silverish metal which looked like it was a piece of what would have been a mighty blade.

It was about an arm and a half in length, the tip and hilt of what would have been a very detailed blade was missing, the blade was inlaid with accents of beautiful gold inscriptions and decorations. Although it would have been a beautiful piece of work the group could tell it would have been a deadly weapon; as Kormac picked up the blade from the ruined altar, cracked and covered in a strange electric blue energy, the blade nearly slicing right through the Templar's cold iron gauntlets making him quickly drop the shattered sword piece. The blade was picked up carefully and wrapped up in leather, as it was placed strapped on his hardy armoured back a purple light starting off as a slight pinprick then combusted in a purple fire revealing the evil and menacing figure of Maghda.

'The noble hero, fought away here just to die!' Maghda said with a small grin on her purple lipped face.

'Maghda, you foul witch!' Hawe spat in frustration, too long has the evil witch got in the way of their efforts. Maghda then spotted a fearful but determined Leah, a spark of recognition came over her, she floated her way over to Leah looking her over.

'And what do we have here...Adria's daughter' Maghda said, her her grin became more pronounced and slightly maniacal.

'She has...power within her' said Maghda said, looking her over once more she dismissively turned her back floating toward the stone door from there the group entered the inner sanctum.

'No matter, your mother will soon share your fate. Fill this temple with their blood!' Maghda commanded, blood red runes appeared on the stone floor and with a flash of orange red flames appeared five of Maghda's cultists clothed in long flowing robes of black and yellow, their face covered in yellow hood only showing their dark, pupil dilated eyes. With two cultists brandishing wicked but well used swords and the last three with deadly glaive's, with the appearance of her cultists she said before she left in a flash of purple flame.

'That sword shards will belong to me soon enough'.

The group made quick work of the cultist, though skilled they were no match for the expert marksmanship of Lyndon, the deft blade work of Kormac and the ferocity and spell power of Hawe's Skull of Flames were truly formidable. After finishing off a burnt and suffering cultist with a machete to the skull, the group finally took a breath.

'We need to get back to Elder Cain' Hawe stated sheathing his machete after wiping the blood off it with the cloak of his slain adversary.

'What did she mean my mother will share my fate, could my mother be alive after all these years' Leah asked with a pained look, the three others looked back at her.

'She is full of lies, do not believe her Leah' Hawe stated with a stoic expression, Leah just nodded with a troubled look on her face. The group was silent except the squelching of filth under their boots and in Hawe's case bare feet, as they were crossing the broken and rotting bridge Leah frowned.

'This find was too easy, she is toying with us' Leah stated making the group stop and turn towards her.

'Aye, I felt that as well' Kormac stated, resting his lance in the crook of his arm as he unhooked a water skin from his belt and refreshing himself.

'We must get back to Uncle Deckard right away' Leah said with a determined facial expression, adjusting the grip of her hand crossbow.

What would had taken an hour to get back took the group half of that to get to the nearest Waypoint, by the time that they arrived it was well and truly night time in New Tristram. The glows of fires and merrily ignited lamps were a welcome sight for the group of hero's, the companions of Hawe; Kormac and the newly arrived Lyndon had laid down for the night after several mugs of ale, Hawe made his way to Deckard Cain's house, a small yet quaint dwelling in New Tristram. After knocking Cain's weathered door and being invited in by Leah who rushed to her uncles side when they arrived, the scent of aged parchment and burning candles wafted in Hawe's nose. Looking around it looked like a small, old looking one bedroom home with a single dining and living room, pelts from various animals lay on the floor muffling the creaking of floorboards as Hawe walked over them. Large, beaten up looking shelves full of scrolls haphazardly stacked lined the walls of the room with a small wooden table with two weathered wooden chairs surrounding it. The table was covered in old scrolls, a couple candles for illumination, a tin goblet filled with water and two tin plates of what remained of Cain and Leah's dinner. To Hawe's right was a sealed door leading to Cain's private study and bedroom, the room was dimly lit by candle light but truly seemed like it spoke about Deckard Cain's drive about knowledge.

Cain was resting in a beaten up looking chair, writing wearily in a thick, leather bound tome but with the entrance of Hawe he smiled tiredly, blew on the ink to dry and closed the tome and pushed it aside.

'My boy, it is a good sight for old eyes to see you in one piece' Cain said motioning Hawe to take a seat, Hawe obliged laying the leather covered sword in front of the elderly man. With shaking hands he undid the wrappings showing the shattered blade in all its splendour, Cain at first seemed mystified by the sight then filled with a slight amount of awe.

'A truly remarkable piece of work, I have never seen such a marvel' Cain said tracing the golden inscriptions, trying to decipher what it may say but to no avail. As Cain looked up at Hawe he saw a troubled expression on the teen's face.

'What troubles you my young friend?' Cain asked the young man, a slight hint of concern on his aged face.

'Elder Cain, what does your books speak about the Nephalem?' Hawe asked, Cain brightened up a little eager to spread his knowledge.

'The Nephalem were the original humans of this world, they were said to be the spawn of demons and angels. When created they had immense power and were feared that they may tip the balance in the Eternal Conflict between the High Heavens and the Burning Hells, so the Worldstone which created our world was attuned to lessen our power. It eventually weakened them to what humanity is known of today' Cain explained showing Hawe diagrams of the Worldstone and various diagrams of battles between angels and demons.

'But the Worldstone is no more, Tyrael destroyed it after Baal was defeated; what will become of the Nephalem's power?' Leah asked leaning over a parchment. Cain was silent for a short time.

'With the destruction of the Worldstone it would be conceivable that the powers of the Nephalem may reappear' Cain answered rolling up a scroll, Hawe was contemplative as Cain said this. There was no way he could be a Nephalem, Hawe knew he was not of this world.

Authors Note

And that is it for the moment, again feel free to review my work, I have to say I got stuck in some places but am happy with what I have so far. I also so many new favourites and following, thank you for your interest and I will be back again soon.