Special thanks to the Blizzard for the amazing game, Diablo II. Also special thanks to the Diablo Wikipedia for allowing me to use its vast stores of knowledge for my story. I use italics for a quote from the game itself and thoughts.
Kalarn stood there. His hair was cut short, which was standard for a Paladin of the Zakarum. Also known as a Paladin of the Light. He wore a suit of plate-mail. At his belt was a glowing blade called, "Tyrael's Wrath." On his arm was a kite-shield named, "Godsteel Defender." Walking up to him was an aged man, a member of the ruling council of Travincal, council-seat of the Zakarum.
Kalarn kneeled before Wyand. The man had a cut in his hand and inside the cut was a small, glimmering shard. "Is that a piece of a soul-stone?" He asked with a slight bit of fear in his voice. Wyand's hand had began to grow larger than normal recently.
"It is time for you to die, it is the order of Mephisto!" Wyand shouted. Walking in were several corrupted Zakarum Zealots.
Kalarn used his mighty blade to cleave into their flesh. "Why do you serve one of the Prime Evils?" he asked as his sword cut through the knights. His sword was like a beacon of holy light. Then a light blue portal opened and he was dragged in.
His sword was gone and replaced with a common short-sword, his shield was replaced with a wooden buckler. His plate-mail was gone and replaced with a thin-leather tunic, green pants, and thin-leather boots. A man walked up to him. He was a middle-aged man and dressed in blue and white clothing. He calmly said, "Well met, noble Paladin. It's been a while since I've seen any of your kind in the west.
It would be an honor to aid you in any way that I can.
No doubt you've heard about the tragedy that befell Tristram.
Some say that Diablo, the Lord of Terror, walks the world again.
I dont' know if I believe that, but a Dark Wandered did travel this route few a weeks ago.
He was headed east to the mountain pass guarded by the rogue monastery.
Maybe it's nothing, but evil seems to have trailed in his wake.
You see, shortly after the Wanderer went through, the Monastery's Gates
to the pass were closed and strange creatures began ravaging the countryside.
Until it's safer outside the camp and the gates are re-opened, I'll remain here with my caravan.
I hope to leave for Lut Gholein before the shadow that fell over Tristram consume us all.
If you're still alive then, I'll take you along.
You should talk to Akara, too. She seems to be the leader of this camp. Maybe she can tell you more."
The Paladin nodded and responded, "Thank you, noble villager." He slowly made his way towards a woman who wore violet robes. She was aged and in her tent had a vast treasure of potions and magical items.
"I'm Akara, High priestess of the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye.
I welcome you traveler to our camp, but I'm afraid I can only offer you but poor shelter within this wicketed walls.
You see our ancient sisterhood, has fallen under a strange curse.
Our mighty citadel, in which we have guarded the gates to the east for generations, has been corrupted by the evil demoness Andariel.
I still can't believe it, she've turned many of our sister rogues against us and throw us from our ancestral home.
Now the last defenders are either dead, or scattered throughout the wilderness. I implore you stranger, please help us, find a way to lift this terrible curse.
And we will pledge our loyalty to you for all time," she said.
"Akara, my name is Kalarn. I'm here to help in any way I can. Travincal has been taken over by one of the Prime Evils, I want to stop him before he can corrupt anymore lands," Kalarn responded.
"There is a place of great evil in the wilderness.
Kashya's Rogue scouts have informed me that a cave nearby is filled with shadowy creatures and horrors from beyond the grave.
I fear that these creatures are massing for an attack against our encampment.
If you are sincere about helping us, find the dark labyrinth and destroy the foul beasts.
May the Great Eye watch over you," she responded.
"I will be back, Akara, I promise it," The paladin stated. He walked out of the encampment and across the bridge to the south. For several minutes he walked and then a quill shot into his leg. The Paladin of the Zakarum looked to the east and there it stood. A quill-rat. Fiery red eyes, vomit-green skin, and silvery quills which it launched at its enemies.
He charged and impaled the creature, giving it a quick death. "This will take much longer than I thought," Kalarn thought. "The Light has forsaken me. I must re-earn the right to be its champion. And that I will do."
In this cesspool of lies, distrust, and hatred there are champions. Those who live and breathe honor, integrity and morals. Which one are you? One of those who make up the cesspool? Or one of those who bring light to the darkness?