2012-08-29

Created page with "{{Tale nav}} {{Intro}} Ok! With each character on this tour, I intend to explore every little dungeon, kill every monster I find, and finish every quest, even the annoying on..."

New page

{{Tale nav}}

{{Intro}}

Ok! With each character on this tour, I intend to explore every little dungeon, kill every monster I find, and finish every quest, even the annoying ones. Muling will be minimal, as I hardly have anything to mule over, and don't really want much muling. A good character build should be able to survive, but not thrive, with less-than-ideal equipment. Let's start our grand tour with... the Druid!

As I've hardly done anything with the Druid, doing something new should be a piece of cake. The first Druid I tried to play, I took my usual tactic of putting 1 point into each skill, just to test them and see what they do. That poor bastard couldn't even make it past the Smith. I followed this with a Werewolf who had a wolf pack, a strong and common build, judging from what I see now. The Werebear seemed too slow to do anything, even with a very fast weapon, but if Druids get a speed bonus with two-handed axes and mauls, I found the unique Broad Axe, Goreshovel, and have it on my mule. With a 30% speed bonus, that might solve the problem. The werebear seems less common than werewolves, though not as rare as the elementalist, so I'll get my feet wet trying a bear.

Now, he needs a name... Ursus? Bruin? Some variation of Berserk, which means bear-shirt, a term for a skin-changer? All a little too obvious for me. But the constellation Ursa Major, the great bear, has a double star, Alcor and Mizor. If you follow the constellation outline given by H. A. Rey, Alcor is the eye, and Mizor a tiny glint on the eye of the great bear. Mizor it is.

|}

==Chapter 1==

And so, Mizor popped into the world. Staring around for a moment, he was greeted by a nice fellow named Warriv, to whom he replied "players 8." A strange thing to say, but werefolk aren't the most talkative guys. Some spend too much time sniffing people's crotches, but Mizor is a dignified bear and will restrain that urge. Loping forth onto the Blood Moor, Mizor is a bit surprised to find the denizens can actually give him a bit of a fight - some even get a small piece of him now and then! Wow, saying "players 8" before a fight does make a big difference! But even though he's just a little bear, he's learning and will grow big and strong soon enough. Exploring a cave, he finds lots of big nasty monsters, and a zombie who must have been Arnold Swarzenegger in a previous life. Pounding in his thick skull takes a lot of time, but in the end, the Great Bear up in the sky is pleased with little Mizor, and grants him the power to change his skin. Giving thanks to the Great Bear, Mizor says "Ghhrahooffguh." Maybe there's a good reason werefolk don't say much.

Continuing through these nicely pallisaded wildlands, Mizor wonders, what's with all these fences and walls all over the place, anyway? Ack, something's trying to kill me. It's a little snot-nosed, wobbly-kneed, unkempt, ill-mannered, and positively unsanitary demonling named Bishibosh, who, with a bunch of like-minded friends, is tossing fireballs at Mizor like there's no tomorrow. Expressing his displeasure at one of the smaller ones, Mizor knocks him into next week... but another raises his staff, and the little guy comes back from his vacation with a suntan and a slide show. I'm going to have to take this up with Bishy himself, Mizor realizes, and in true bearish fashion, charges straight into the middle of the group. Things quickly degenerated, and after four minor healings and entirely too much time, Mizor stood triumphant. Ouch. That might have gone better if he had some friends.

As Mizor's adventures on the Cold Plains continued, he got some friends. First, the Great Bear sent... a raven? What's he doing sending me a bird? The raven expressed no opinion, simply perched on Mizor's shoulder and did his business. Mizor upgraded to a wolf. Then, he'd only have to watch where he stepped. This was followed by a sage spirit of the oaks, who would lend his aid by making Mizor and all his friends as sturdy as the trees. Why the spirit looks like Casper the Friendly Wriggling Starfish, no one knows. After meeting a few more very tough shamans (but not tough enough) and exploring another cave, Kashya told Mizor about an abomination in a graveyard. What's a graveyard? Mizor thought.

Mizor did not like Kashya. She was rude and sarcastic, and would hardly even talk to him when he was a bear. At least she didn't keep making "What does a bear do in the woods?" jokes like Gheed, but she sure wasn't nice or very helpful. Charsi was nice, Charsi would rub his ears and once found a tick that had been bothering him. And, before Mizor went to explore the graveyard, Charsi found a wonderful new axe for him: a Large Axe of Readiness, with increased attack speed! Well, she didn't really find it, she sold it to him, but it's the thought that counts with people like Charsi. Newly armed, Mizor went to this graveyard place, where the Rogues plant their dead instead of exposing them for the wolverines to eat like sensible people do, and found a horrible woman named Blood Raven.

It was a long battle, with Blood Raven running all over the graveyard and sniping with arrows of fire. Mizor followed, tripping over a bunch of inconveniently placed rocks every step of the way. His wolf friend chased her too, but didn't have much luck catching her either; she was quick. Mizor was considering drinking a healing potion when Blood Raven finally died, and after a pretty light show, her spirit wafted up to the heavens. No doubt the Great Bear had summoned her up there, to deal with her properly after the way she had inconvenienced his chosen one.

Kashya was impressed, but Mizor never got a chance to ask her why that woman was named Blood Raven. I mean, even if your last name is Raven, why would your parents name you Blood? Kashya did let him hire one of her Rogues for free, a cute little woman named Paige. Paige didn't look happy about serving Mizor, but after he bought her a nice new bow and some studded leathers, she calmed down some. Why wouldn't Kashya give her Rogues any equipment, anyway? No wonder they can't fight off the demons and take back the monestary. And why were the only armors for sale in camp leather? Lots of athletic young women... all the clothes are leather... but Kashya usually doesn't give them anything to wear... Mizor decided not to think about that anymore.

==Chapter 2==

Awakening, Mizor yawned, said "players 8" and walked over to the handy dandy waypoint the Rogues had in their camp. That was one of the great conveniences to this place, maybe he should try to get the other Werebears to make some of them back home. Sure beats walking everywhere, he wasn't as fast on his feet as the little Werewolves, funny-looking as they are. Of course, the werewolves always say the werebears are funny-looking; huge towering lummoxes tottering along on itty bitty legs, they say. But they don't say it up close. Anyway, with a blue flash and a single unearthly note, Mizor, Paige, a spirit wolf (Mizor called it Wolf) and the Oak Sage appeared on the Cold Plains. He'd explored everything there last night, but more evil creatures had come back; Paige said they did that every night.

Fighting their way through the ever-present fences, Mizor and company made their way to a large stony field, full of more monsters. There was a lot more fighting, bashing, smashing, and stomping of tiny demons and corrupted Rogues, before they came to a quintet of standing stones.

Mizor: "Whrrrflloo." (These stones are common where I am from.)

Paige: "Huh? Did you try to say something?"

Mizor: "Hwaaoder!" (Hey, Wolf smells something over there.)

Paige: "I smell something over here. Maybe you should stop wearing those old skins?"

It was one of the little demons, spitting lightning and saying "Rakanishu!" every time Wolf bit him. This might be dangerous, so Mizor joined in the battle, while Paige busied herself with some other demons. The fight was short but painful; Wolf died, and Mizor was half bald and smelled even worse than before.

Mizor: "Aaaawaaahroo!"

Paige: "Maybe you should try Rogaine. Thanks for getting rid of the skins, by the way."

Mizor summoned another wolf. He called it Wolf. There didn't seem to be any point in getting attached to them. After entirely too much fighting, they came to a cliff. This was surprising, out here on the plains and fields, even if it was only a little cliff to Mizor's eyes, but the important thing about the cliff was a cave. The cave led to a long, dark, underground tunnel that emerged in dark woods. Of course, these weren't real woods... not like the ones back home. But on a trip back to town, Akara told him about a certain special tree he should look for.

Akara: "It is clear we are facing a great evil. We must seek the council of Deckard Cain immediately."

Mizor: "Rrrr?"

Akara: "He lives in Tristram, hundreds of miles from here, but there is a portal we can use. Find a circle of five stones, then find a special tree. Take the bark from the tree, bring it to me for translation, and touch the stones of the circle in the order I give you."

Mizor: (Looks forlornly at the waypoint.)

Akara: "I fear Tristram does not have a waypoint. Do not worry, many of our Rogue sisters went to Tristram to battle Diablo there, when he first reappeared in the world."

Paige: "Just a moment, please, wise Akara. When our sisters were traveling to Tristram, why did you not open this portal for them?"

Akara: "I felt there was no great need for haste."

Paige: "But a great evil was coming back into the world! Would that not call for haste?"

Akara: "Well... the portal's enchantments are old, and using it might have been dangerous."

Mizor: "Aaahrrrriiow!"

Paige: "Bearbutt is wondering why you think it will be safe now."

Kashya: "You can understand him?"

Paige: "You figure it out after a while."

Akara: "No, but our choices are few and the danger is great. You must do this. And Paige, no one is to refer to our friend as 'Bearbutt'."

Mizor: (Looks extremely dubious, but returns to the stony fields.)

Kashya: "I don't know why you think Bearbutt can do it."

Akara: "Though he is funny-looking, has itty bitty legs, and suffers from a speech impediment, he is our only hope."

Kashya: "You forgot the smell."

Akara: "I have been trying to forget it since he came into our camp."

Like a good bear, Mizor returned to the stones, touched them, and went through the sparkly red portal that appeared. Tristram was a burning mess, full of nasty surprises, including a named Skeleton warrior and the fattest zombie Mizor had ever seen standing right next together. They made for a long fight; Mizor went out of bear form twice before he managed to knock the fat one down for good. The only living inhabitant of the town was an old guy, hanging in a cage; why was he spared, of all of these people? A mystery to ponder another time; the old man made his own portal, and left. Another mystery to ponder - if he could do that, why was he sitting in that cage?

The old man, Deckard Cain, turned out to be fairly useful. He was full of all kinds of facts on magical items, and made himself very useful explaining their properties. He also identified the demon who was occupying the monastery - Andariel, the maiden of anguish, poisoner of hearts. And, as a final reward for his good deed, the Great Bear blessed Mizor with a gift from the heavens. Right on his head, too. When he regained consciousness, Mizor found he had a new axe, a bigger, faster, more magical axe than his old axe - the broad axe Goreshovel. Thus armed, Mizor went to sleep again. He'd had a long day.

==Chapter 3==

Ah, another day, another endless series of death and bloodshed. Slaughtering the minions of evil gets to be a little monotonous after a while, they just keep coming back for more, one after the other, you can whack them, maul them, set them on fire or freeze them solid, they don't seem to care. I mean, when you kill a demon, where does it go? Back home, and its master summons it up again later. Makes you wonder if there's any point to the whole business, or if it's all just a big waste of time, they'll keep coming and there's nothing you can do about it. Maybe this Cain guy would have some answers, Akara said he was very wise.

It took time, but Mizor managed to ask Cain about it, and he had a ready answer. Yes, the greater demons simply bring their followers back; they quickly return to full strength if given any respite. Which is exactly why you need to kill the greater demon lords themselves; no one can bring them back once they are banished from the world. And the biggest demon lords of them all are the Three, one of whom is roaming the land and causing all of this misery. But to reach him, you first must find your way through the hordes of lesser evils he has left in his wake, and challenge him alone.

Clearly, Mizor had his work cut out for him, so he and his entourage returned to the dark wood. Moving quickly, they cleared a path to a black and greasy marsh, full of walking skeletons and goats on two legs. The goats might have been tolerable company if they weren't trying to kill him, but they had no sense of humor, or even much dignity; they made ridiculous noises as they died. How even a demon could live without dignity was unimaginable. In the middle of the marsh was a big, burnt-out building, with nothing inside but a ladder leading down to the cellars.

The building, Paige said, was the castle of a Countess who had lived there ages ago. She was an evil woman, who drank and bathed in the blood of a hundred virgin girls before she was sealed alive in the basement of her tower, which was then burnt to the ground. Ah, Mizor recalled, that must be what that odd tome he'd found in the stony fields was talking about. Strangest book, when he opened it, some guy started reading from it aloud, and Mizor couldn't find him anywhere. So, a decadent noble was killing young girls in the olden days. Why kill her by putting her in the basement, and then burn everything above the ground? Shouldn't you put her on the top story, then burn her tower? Sometimes, it seemed that the people in these lands lacked all common sense.

However... Mizor had learned that demons liked to hide in dark caves, and they often had useful things. That basement was as good a place as any, so Mizor led everyone down. At least, he tried to; bears don't do well on ladders. The bear-shaped imprint in the basement floor was a good warning that he was coming, but judging by the smell, there wasn't much alive in there. The place was completely empty, except for some treasure chests and stairs leading to another level of cellar. How many cellars would even a countess need? There couldn't be many.

On the next cellar level, they found all the monsters who were missing from the first level. Right by the stairs, there was a big nasty goat with a bunch of friends. When Mizor tried to move past them to get a little elbow room... there were ghosts down there! A powerful ghost was spitting lightning, and howling like a banshee!

Named Ghost: "We want blood! We want blood! The countess took all of ours!"

Mizor: "Whagarooloorss?!" (What do you want with blood? You have no use for it!)

Named Ghost: "We want blood! We want blood! You have some! Give it to us!"

Mizor: (Points to Named Goat) "Aahhm!" (What about him?)

Named Goat: (Brains Paige with a hammer.) "Hey, don't get me mixed up in this."

Mizor: "Ahhksrrsh." (I think you're being very selfish.) (Mauls Named Goat repeatedly.)

Named Ghost: "We want blood! We want blood! Ouch! Nice doggy!"

Wolf: "Yip! Whine!" (Sizzles with lightning.)

Mizor, Paige, and Oak Sage: "Yip! Whine! Not the Lightning Enchanted beastie!"

Everyone but Mizor died. Mizor lost every inch of fur on him, and again really wished they had something besides leathers in town. Leathers smell just terrible when burnt. Strangely, when he visited Kashya, she wasn't upset about Paige getting flash-fried to a crackly crunch. For a few thousand (a paltry sum, given what Mizor had in his war chest) she could resurrect her and send her into the fight again! Gosh. The veil between life and death was very thin in this part of the world. And Charsi had metal armor for sale! Scale mail, much better. Mizor bought a suit for Paige too, and returned to the forgotten tower.

On the fifth level below ground, Mizor finally found the Countess. She was alive... sort of... even after all this time. Surrounded by ghosts, goats, but no ghosts of goats, and a number of nearly naked nubile nymphs (try saying that when you're a Werebear) the Countess had grown fangs, a pallid complexion, and an unhealthy fondness for Anne Rice novels. She had gone beyond life and death... but not beyond having her arms ripped off by a claustrophobic Werebear. Who'd need five levels of cellars, anyway? No one has that much wine to store. But she did have money, a lot of it, and after leaving tower, Mizor could see another large building, almost within spitting distance; the monastery. He didn't like the look of it one bit.

==Chapter 4==

The closer Mizor got to the building, the bigger and more radiant with simple, pure evil it seemed. Or maybe it was just Mizor; he'd never liked being indoors. Those caves hadn't helped, and the incredibly deep cellars the Countess had made him feel itchy all over just thinking about them. Paige was sure it was fleas.

Demons were pouring (well, ambling) out of the monastery gates, obviously sent by Andariel. Smashing and bashing their way in, Mizor stopped to admire the fountain in the outer cloister, curiously untouched by the demonic occupation. Though made by the hand of man, it was a very pretty fountain, especially after the ugliness of what was outside. The cloisters were quiet, with large gardens that had been trampled and despoiled, but not quite killed yet. Soon, nature would be allowed to return and make even these places green again, but there were things to take care of first...

Further in were barracks, with several weapon storage areas, now mostly empty. Mizor found a lovely new bow for Paige, and a very bad-tempered Shaman who was unwise enough to stand next to a small shrine which granted fire resistance. It was actually a lucky thing the shrine was there; both Paige and Wolf decided not to go into that room with Mizor, so he got to fight both the Shaman, his friends, and some skeletal archers all by himself. When Paige did decide to come in, just as the last one died, Mizor informed her she would be receiving a cut in pay.

In the deepest parts of the barracks, they discovered a forge, probably where Charsi had done her work in happier days. Now, a huge fat demon in an apron was working in there, but he was no great danger. Peppered with arrows and nibbled on by Wolf, Mizor hardly had to do anything to him at all, just loot the room. There was a nifty little hammer there, which Mizor was sure Charsi would love to have back again.

The door further into the monastery was barred and nailed shut, and not even Mizor's strength could get it open. Paige said that when the demons first appeared, they had tried to contain by blocking all the doors leading out of the inner monastery. But they'd come up from below, through the jails under the barracks. Reasoning that they could get inside the same way, Paige led them to the stairs, and they made their way through the jails. There were several levels underground; even the Rogues were fond of cellars. All over the jails were instruments of torture, and bits and pieces of very, very dead women.

Why did the Rogues need so much prison space? Mizor was sure the torture implements were not demon-made, but there originally. Civilized people; why do such insane things? If someone commits a crime, banish or kill them. Inflicting agony serves no purpose either. Even though the demons hadn't needed to bring their own entertainment with them, they surely knew what to do with what they found. And the way they'd decorated the jails with the mutilated dead was even more wrong than planting them deep in the ground. Death was part of life, but only because the dead carried on into life again. Keeping the dead, or getting them to get up and walk around, was even more a denial of the circle than planting; at least there, they would nourish the trees.

Beyond the jails was an inner cloister, despoiled with bodies, and a cathedral, the way civilized people imagined others should see the light. A new sort of poison filled the cathedral now, a horrible skeleton that spat venom; it must have been a priest in life. Below the cathedrals were catacombs, full of walking dead and more horrible things; it was no surprise that they went very deep into the ground, catacombs are supposed to. At the fourth level below ground, the floor was broken, with a pool of blood and naked dead bodies filled the hole. Two huge doors behind it led to a cross-shaped room, what must have been the monastery's deepest chapel. It would be the perfect place for a demon queen to make her throne, and sure enough, when Mizor charged through the doors, a horrible voice said, "Die, maggot!" and he saw Andariel.

Gheed had mentioned that Andariel was reputed to be beautiful. Perhaps she was, in the eyes of people like Gheed. Certainly, some parts of her were shaped in ways men would find beautiful. The huge spider's legs growing from her back would not be beautiful to anyone Mizor knew, though, and what was she doing with her hair? Before he had time to ask, she was upon him, clouds of venom boiling out of her body and dripping from her unnatural fangs. The battle was long, but Mizor mauled and beat her until her body broke and disintegrated in a column of hellish flame. Drinking an alchemical elixir he'd thought to bring cured him of the last of the poison's effects; Paige was unhurt.

Back at the camp, everyone congratulated him; no more "Bearbutt" now. Even Kashya tried to make friends, and Mizor was pleased enough with himself not to pound her into the ground like a tent stake. The Rogues returned to the monastery, clearing the remaining demons as they went, and Warriv took his caravan (and Mizor) through to Lhut Gholein.

Some thoughts:

1) Players 8 hasn't really made the game more challenging, at least for a Werebear. The biggest difference is that monsters take much longer to die, which can make them a threat in the very early levels. But you gain levels so much faster, your character is tougher and able to use stronger skills sooner.

2) Mizor was level 19 when he killed Andariel, which is as late as I've ever killed her, and the fight was relatively easy. Perhaps using 'players 8' would be better if you are moving through Act 1 quickly, ignoring quests and the small dungeons.

3) The Shaman's fireballs seemed to hurt more than I remember; does 'players 8' increase the damage from elemental attacks?

4) Muling can make the game much easier, if you have the items to mule. Having Goreshovel was a real boon. That axe seems almost made for a Werebear, and not having it would have made the act much more challenging.

==Chapter 5==

Ah, the glorious city of Lut Gholein! Well, the glorious town of Lut Gholein. It's a bit smaller than the word "city" would imply. Warriv dropped them off inside the western gates, and a very nicely-dressed young man greeted Paige.

Jerhyn: "Welcome, honored traveler. I bid you welcome to my fair port city."

Paige: "Thanks, but he's the honored traveler."

Mizor: "Whurrf."

Jerhyn: "Ah, of course, I should have noticed the axe. I bid you welcome, and apologize for my oversight."

Mizor: "Rmmmm." (Attempts a smile.)

Jerhyn was lord of Lut Gholein, and gave them a lovely little tour. The palace was a graceful edifice, but Jerhyn did not invite them in, saying things were "a bit of a mess." There was a small inn, where Mizor rented a room, mostly for Paige; he felt no need to stay there himself. The town's walls were manned by mercenaries, led by a man named Greiz; Greiz seemed to think Mizor was some kind of traveling animal act, and asked what tricks he did. Mizor showed him one. It's a good thing Greiz was wearing a helmet, and that Jerhyn was there to calm things down.

In a central market, Fara, a pale-skinned, red-haired woman quite unlike the rest of the town's inhabitants, had set up an armory. Mizor bought himself some chainmail, and a new helmet for Paige. Deckard Cain, who had come along, was sitting by the well in the center of town, talking with an alchemist. Further down the street was a tavern, where several people were sullenly drinking and trying to avoid going out of doors. The tavern owner, a woman named Atma, accosted Paige.

Atma: "I cannot expect this of you, but if you will help me, I would be grateful."

Paige: (Looks up at Mizor) "You know, I wouldn't think you'd be this hard to miss."

Mizor: "Rrraaaghhh!"

Atma: "I will accept aid from anyone. My husband and son were slaughtered by a fiend from the town's sewers. Vengeance is all I can have."

Mizor: "Wazewr?" (What's a sewer?)

Paige: "A bunch of tunnels under a town, to wash... wastes away where people won't have to step in them."

Mizor: (Looks down at Wolf.) "Hooa." (Good idea.)

Wolf: (pant pant pant, wag tail.)

The sewer outflow was under the town's docks, above the sea. Mizor had never seen a sea before, and had to stare at all that water. It didn't smell very good, but that might have been the sewer. They went into the outflow tunnel; it was the sewer. This sewer was full of flaming skeletons with bows and scimitars, no doubt brought in by the evil fiend. These people were fond of tombs, so they probably hadn't washed their ancestors down the drain.

The sewers were deep, going down three levels, and full of the burning dead. On the lowest level, there were more skeletons, and... cat people! Maybe they'd be friendlier than the goat people back at the monastery, Mizor thought, the animal people of the world can't all be pawns of hell. They weren't as bad as the goats -- they were worse, using whips to lash pieces of skin away, a slow and agonizing way to kill. At the very bottom was a gigantic... skeleton? Zombie? A towering patchwork of parts, some very fresh, others so old they puffed up dust every time the creature moved.

The creature's retinue of skeletons was huge, and it raised every one that was struck down. And he kept repeating, "I shall live again!" Death comes to us all, and none should attempt to move beyond their span, but some need more convincing than others. After drawing some of the skeletons away to kill, the crowd was thin enough that Mizor could charge straight in, and knock this Radamant around until his stitches came undone. After a long battle, they did, and all of his servants died with him. Now stay that way, Mizor thought.

Radamant had a nice book with him, and a scroll. Cain explained that the Horadrim used to "mummify" their highest mages, drying and poisoning the body so that nothing could eat it and it would remain intact for a long time. Parts of the body were replaced with animal parts, and enchantments woven among the bones to raise them, so they could "protect their own tombs against bandits." Now, why don't they just forget the whole tomb business, and let the dead be dead? There would be nothing for the bandits to steal, and the demons wouldn't have nearly as much material lying around to work with. It would be a little late to point that out now. But Cain did say something worth hearing: hidden in one old tomb, there was a device called a Horadric Cube, which could change things into other things. That might be useful, so Mizor went to look for it.

==Chapter 6==

Having cleaned out the sewers below Lut Gholein, Mizor turned his attention to the surface outside the gates. What a barren, inhospitable land this was. How did the people get enough food to support them here? There didn't seem to be that many fish for sale in the market. As usual, there wasn't much time to think about it; a group of strange creatures scampered out of the rocky wastes, and leapt high in the air to attack. They were very annoying opponents, not hitting hard enough to really hurt, but they leapt and bounced and rolled away from blows with great speed.

After the last of the leapers bit the sandy dust, vultures came circling overhead. That would not have been alarming, but these vultures had four legs, and hands. They flew high enough that Paige doubted she could hit one unless they came lower, which they did in a steep dive. When they landed, they took no interest in the dead leapers, but attacked Mizor and his friends; live prey seemed to appeal to them. While dealing with them, a group of cat people walked up, and started lobbing poisonous potions. It was turning out to be quite a party, and they'd hardly gotten out of the gates.

Moving through the flat valley between the low hills of the desert, Mizor found great heat, very little water (which looked black and undrinkable), and bugs. Bugs were everywhere, scorpions, sand fleas, flies, chiggers, mosquitoes, every bug that stung or bit or itched or flew into the eyes, hovering over the occasional mercenary corpse, crawling amid the spiny plants, descending in clouds with every demon vulture that dove down... poor Mizor just couldn't stand it after a while. Even that pool of black, stagnant water had to be better than being eaten alive... so he dove in. Then ran screaming back to town. Paige found him in the tavern.

Mizor: "Waauuughh." (Tips mug of ale over his whole nose.)

Geglash: "I hear ya, I can't stand them demons either. Say... aren't ya supposed to be an elephant? And pink?"

Mizor: "Rubrrum." (Sunburn.) (Rubs his poor red nose.)

Geglash: "Yeah, Lorcia's Red Rum is to die for! I can't always afford it. I don't suppose a rich guy like you could help a buddy out... ?"

Mizor: "Snooorf." (Drops gold on bar. A bottle appears.)

Atma: (To Paige.) "He just came in. He must need help with all those leeches."

Paige: "How expensive is salt here?"

Atma: "It doesn't matter. Perhaps one of my hairbrushes would help as well."

After Mizor's beer bath (which did him a tiny bit of good) they went out to a small tomb not far from the city gates. After stomping through the tomb for a while, Mizor noticed he wasn't itching any more. He couldn't understand it, until after a fight with a walking mummy named Feeping Creature. Or Creeping Feature. Something. Anyway, after they die, the lesser mummies break open in a cloud of rotten corpse gas. Mizor just held his breath... but the bugs didn't know to, and after a few mummies, they were all dead. The living dead have their charms after all.

Moving beyond the low wastes, Mizor led his merry band into some dry hills. The cat people were thick here, and a huge set of tombs lay buried beyond a single entrance. Not only were there skeletons and the lesser mummies, but also big mummies like Radamant, but with animal skulls and a huge sickle of bone in place of one hand. They didn't have to die to unleash corpse gas, they could breathe it out. You know, these things could actually be useful! Just get one back to town and rent it out for fumigation, Elzix's whole inn could sure use it. Drag the monster into someone's living room, let it do its thing...

Mizor didn't realize he'd been giggling until Paige asked him what was funny. Imagine, a Werebear giggling. And plotting to use the living dead! No doubt some mad entrepreneur of a Necromancer would try it, if any of them ever thought of it. He sure wasn't going to tell one, they didn't need any encouragement. At the bottom of the tombs, there was a special chamber with no burials, just a fancy chest containing an even fancier box. It was a strange box, which opened completely without obvious hinges, and had a big button on one side.

Cain said it was a Horadric Cube, and he had quite a treasure there, it would change things into other things, like three chips of gemstone into a larger, better quality gem. Mizor looked at the huge pile of shiny rocks he'd been collecting (they were pretty) and immediately understood. There was a lot more room in his war chest after that.

==Chapter 7==

Beyond the dry hills was an oasis, though its waters were fouled with muck and full of insects. And what insects they were! Huge crawling things bigger than Mizor, giant beetles that spat out lightning, and demonic clouds of midges which acted as though guided by a single mind. His fur was almost alive by the time they cleared the oasis, and to his disappointment, there wasn't a single tomb available for delousing. Just a round hole in the ground, with more bugs crawling, flying, or stumbling out of it. There must be something unnatural down there, to be producing all these things; something that needed killing.

The hole was just wide enough to accommodate Mizor. The tunnels beyond were rather... slimy, and full of every sort of evil bug imaginable. At the bottom, in a huge chamber, was a maggot five times the size of all the others, with veiny tendrils burrowed into the earth, laying more bugs as fast as its huge, bloated body could force them out. And when it died, the squeal was deafening, before it exploded in a shower of venomous slime that covered everything in the chamber in rank, sticky goo. Adventures in mucous.

Antidote potions were distributed to all. It sure killed off the fleas, but Mizor preferred the mummies. Paige didn't like it one bit; she was huddled against the wall, whimpering "gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross" until Mizor had to slap her. The Maggot Queen had a chest with a staff in it; why would a bug want such a thing, Mizor wondered? But who can say with these unnatural creatures? In another chamber of the lair, Mizor opened a single chest, and found no less than six rare items! None were particularly useful for him, but these bugs seemed quite adept at collecting treasures.

In the hills beyond the oasis was a ruined city, its buildings in ruins and filled with the dead. The fate of all cities, though not all cities had such active dead. Soon after Mizor came within sight of the dead city, the sun... went out? Something large and black was covering the sun! No one in town knew anything about it, but Drognan, who was otherwise not very helpful, suggested that some snake people called Claw Vipers could be responsible. Mizor had seem pictures of them on the walls of the tombs, big snakes with arms and a foul disposition, judging from the human heads they were always holding. Goat people, cat people, and now snake people; these demons were giving animals a bad name. No wonder ordinary people were nervous around him, Mizor thought.

The city of the dead had many zombies, most of them infected with the plague that must have wiped out the city. In an adjacent valley, a huge temple, decorated with serpents, led to an underground complex. More underground tunnels. Mizor sighed. In the future, he resolved to only save the world from demonic invasions if they remained strictly out of doors. And no blotting out the sun, that was just creepy. The temple was full of snake people and mummies, a sure sign that these serpents were in league with evil forces. Sure enough, in the basement, they had set up an evil altar to worship demons. Mizor and his friends smashed, shot, and chomped through every snake in the place; he even summoned up another wolf just for a lightning-spitting one by the altar. After smashing the alter, Mizor found an amulet, and was glad to see the sun had returned when he got back to the surface.

Mizor: "Whawarrrityesrrr?"

Paige: "Mizor wants to know how the people of the city died, and why the Claw Vipers had built their temple right next to it, and where the diseased zombies came from?"

Drognan: "I am impressed with your keen ear, Rogue. Your master is correct in surmising that the three things are connected. In ages past, men made attempts to be friendly with the serpent men, reasoning that kindly overtures may be reciprocated, and a cold exterior may conceal a better nature than was actually the case. The Claw Vipers were allowed to build their home next to the city, and relations were good at first."

Paige: "So, you're saying the Vipers are pretty good liars."

Mizor: "Sheekrnnge." (Speak with forked tongue.)

Drognan: "In so many words. The Claw Viper's hearts are cold and empty, and they took the gentle words of the city people as a sign of weakness, to exploit for foul sacrifice to their dark masters. The entire city was wiped out by the foulest disease many decades ago, and its former inhabitants' bodies are enslaved for the demon's foul purposes. But there is another matter which concerns us more now. You must speak with Jerhyn immediately."

Jerhyn was eager to see them. It turned out that his palace was being invaded from below by demons! A Vizjeri wizard had wandered in and disappeared while exploring the cellars, near a strange gate Jerhyn had down there. Since then, demons had been pouring through the gate, and every guard Jerhyn had was pulled away from the town walls and put in the palace. Now, there were only two left, Kaelen and one other guy. Jerhyn was distraught, lest his city be overrun from within his own palace. "Do you wonder, could there be a connection between that mage, and the demons now driving upwards from my cellars?"

Mizor blinked, smacked his forehead, and wondered why he was helping these people. Jerhyn had a strange gate thing in his cellar, and didn't know where it led. Some demon-summoner wizard wants to be left alone with it, and Jerhyn allows it. The wizard disappears, and then demons start pouring through the gate. And he was wondering if there might be a connection. It took all of Mizor's willpower not to clobber Jerhyn, just to try to knock some sense into his head. Muttering to himself, Mizor smiled, which made everyone nervous, shoved the guards aside, and entered the palace.

==Chapter 8==

Jerhyn's palace was spacious and opulent, full of soft cushions, divans, latticework, large round beds (a lot of beds), trellises and screens, as well as silken curtains, satiny sheets, tiled floors, gorgeous gilt-and-enamel wall decorations, erotic artwork, and candelabra in every room. The impression of wealth and indolence would have been complete if there weren't so many bits and pieces of town guards and harem girls everywhere. They were impaled on their own spears, tied to the gilded columns, forced halfway through barred windows, spread out over the carpets... over several carpets, even. What could possibly lead creatures to crush and mangle these bodies long after all life was gone? Even Mizor could think of better things to do with a harem girl, but maybe demons don't care about that.

Noticing that his wolves were eating the bodies of the demons, Mizor decided to try a little of it himself. Demons taste terrible, especially when they're still alive, but it was invigorating in a strange way. In the palace, Mizor found something he hadn't seen before: a head pelt, such as his people wear as a sign of high status. It was a hawk helm, from the giant eagles of the mountains, but not of good quality; maybe Jerhyn had it for his private museum of curiosities. On a whim, Mizor put it on, and smiled at Paige, sure that he looked quite regal. Paige stared for a moment, bug-eyed, then burst out laughing. "It's a chicken, I tell you! A giant chicken!" Mizor threw it away. It didn't look that much like a chicken... did it?

In the lowest level of cellars (sultans have an excuse for lots of cellars, at least) there was the gate, which opened easily. Beyond was a place not made by nature's architect, but by what sort of madman Mizor did not know. Suspended in empty space, long marble catwalks twisted and turned in impossible directions, with stars whizzing past through the void. Despite the catwalks, the inhabitants were goat men, along with ghouls and ghosts. There was a lot of old treasure, and Mizor discovered that ghosts taste like cold consomme; it surprised him that they tasted like anything, frankly. Deep in the maze, Mizor found a living, mortal man, dressed in the very old robes of some long-dead archmagus, and cackling madly. So Mizor bit his head off. It came off very easily; must not have been screwed on right.

The summoner had a red gate, which led to a barren canyon. There was also a handy waypoint, which Mizor used, and the Great Bear blessed him with another gift. An animal pelt, a superior set of antlers, though they looked like a ram's head. It gave him bonuses to his skills, +2 to Lycanthropy and +1 to Heart of Wolverine, with 3 sockets for his use; the Great Bear included three runes, Ral, Ort, and Thul. These would not spell out any of the sacred words, but would grant Mizor resistance against the elements, something he didn't mind at all. All praise the Great Bear!

The entrances to this canyon had been sealed off long ago by huge rockslides; the waypoint was probably the only way in. Set in the walls were seven tombs. Didn't Jerhyn mention something about seven tombs in a canyon, one of which had Baal in it? Yes! The arcane sanctuary was built by some Portajon guy, who had a journal where he might have written it down... back in his sanctuary... for which the red gate was now gone... doh! Well, there was no point in going through the arcane maze again; Diablo couldn't possibly have gotten into this canyon. Mizor could leisurely go through the tombs, one at a time, until he found the right one.

They went through all seven tombs, and found all kinds of demons, but nothing that looked like it might be Baal, or even Diablo. Back in town, Cain had been trying to get his attention, and finally got him to sit down and explain, with a lot of help form Paige. It turns out they needed to use the Horadric cube to make a Staff of Kings, and put it in a socket in the floor of a special chamber to open the way to Baal's tomb.

Cain: "I hope there is still time to stop Diablo, before he frees his brother!"

Paige: "If someone would ever stop to ask for directions, I know there would be!"

Mizor: "Rrruff!" (Looks petulant. It's not his fault they made this so confusing!)

Paige: "You never admit when you're lost. And what are you doing summoning up wolves, anyway? I thought you worshipped the big bear."

Mizor: "Grrrrbrr! Aauugh... wwbrrr!" (That's the Great Bear to you, missy! And those aren't wolves. They're... wolf-bears!"

Paige: "Wolf-bears?"

Mizor: "Wwbrrr."

(Paige looks at the wolves. They look back with happy wolf expressions all over their faces.)

Paige: "Oh... kay."

So, back they went, with the staff, and found the room. After another pretty light show, they went in and found, not Tal Rasha, not Baal, but something completely different, and completely disgusting. It was a huge ugly maggoty slug of a demon prince, probably father to every evil bug in the desert. Fighting him hip-deep in a mud pit was slow, but by biting chunks out of his diabolical body every so often, Mizor didn't need to touch a single potion, just beat him down until his bloated body burst and died. Baal was not in the tomb. The platform where he had been imprisoned was empty except for an angel, who chided Mizor for being so late. Baal and Diablo were headed for Kurast, where the third brother, Mephisto, had been imprisoned, and Mizor had better not be too late to reach him or the world was doomed. Everybody's a critic; it's not Mizor's fault that he walks so slow.

Concluding thoughts:

1) High level Werebears get a lot of hit points, even without Oak Sage. Get some decent life leech, or alternate Maul with Hunger, and you can't die unless you can't leech or something kills you in one shot. Even Ancient Kaa the Soulless didn't faze Mizor.

2) Maul works well if you scatter shots among a group of foes; while they're stunned, they don't attack. Shockwave works on those pesky ranged attackers. Do higher levels of Shockwave increase the range and breadth of the wave, I wonder?

3) Fire Claws is a poor way to kill physical immunes unless you have a high level of it. Which would put you in the revolting position of having to put more points into your backup attack skill than your main attack skill to make it work.

4) I tried putting an unenchanted Maul on Mizor, to see how slow he was normally. Without Goreshovel, I would probably given up on him in frustration, he's so slow. The Werebear may be more item-dependent than the wolf, not to survive, but to be entertaining.

==Chapter 9==

Glorious Kurast, huh? The dockside only had enough space for one ship, all the rest was overgrown. Mizor normally wouldn't see anything wrong with this, but this growth was not natural. For one thing, the dock obviously wasn't old or abandoned, but had been in use within the year. For another, he could put his paw on the trunk of a tree and feel it growing, its woody fibers twisting like living rope as it sprouted black leaves up to the overcast sky. Lut Gholein was bad, with monstrous beasts plaguing the desert, but this... nature itself seemed to have been taken into league with the demonic invasion. It was unimaginable how such a thing could happen, but here it was.

As Mizor stood staring at the impossible green corruption curling like claws around the docks, a small, thin man greeted him.

Hratli: "Well. As sanity is in such short supply here, I suppose you must be our savior, and the greatest of all men. Welcome to Kurast, traveler. I am Hratli, smith and enchanter."

Paige: "Thanks... say, aren't smiths a little... bigger, usually?"

Hratli: "That would be true, if madness were not the course of our days here. I am, as you see, a pathetic specimen, who appears unsuited to his craft. Our finest healer is tall and powerful, with hands that can crack the strongest betel nuts, while a great warrior, a slender woman, stands on our southern docks and does nothing all day. Nothing is as it should be."

Mizor: (Looking at tree as it grows six inches taller during Hratli's speech.) "Auhh."

Hratli: "Your words are full of wisdom. I could learn much from your sage council. You should let others know of your arrival. They will be overjoyed."

No one on the docks was particularly happy to see them, but no one was ever happy to see Mizor the first time he came to a town. There were quite a few people wandering the docks like lost souls, with nothing to eat but fish and bananas. Besides the healer and the warrior (who certainly didn't look the part), there was a hermit-like alchemist who threw rocks at Mizor until he went away, and a mercenary battle-mage who obviously didn't catch colds easily. Maybe it was her way of dealing with the warm and sticky weather. Deckard Cain had come over with them; didn't he have anything better to do, like go somewhere else? Oh well, at least he was good for figuring out item enchantments.

Moving off the docks onto land, Mizor saw, up ahead, a man stumbling into the jungle. He was completely covered in a rough brown robe and cowl, but the aura of menace he radiated was unmistakable... this had to be the wanderer who was host to Diablo! The Krakatoan Body Slam would have been the move of choice, except that the wanderer vanished as Mizor approached. Drat. But they were catching up with him! Mizor was at least a month behind at Rogue's pass, and a few days behind at Tal Rasha's tomb. Now, he had finally caught up to Diablo, and would surely overtake him before he'd reached Mephisto! Unless something went wrong, but what could possibly happen?

Mizor led his group along a river; it was better than trying to make their way through the jungle. The greenery was growing even faster beyond the dockside, and sometimes, buried in the green, Mizor could see a house or other structure, only recently abandoned. This was not a virgin jungle, but had been the suburbs of the city. Now, it was full of birds with skull faces, gigantic mosquitoes, and psychopathic midgets with blowguns. The midgets were the most annoying, they were horrifically fast. Mizor could run up to one, swing his axe, and it would have run away by the time the blow came down. None of the monsters could really hurt Mizor, though they all tried as hard as they could.

One of the skull birds was carrying around a little jade statue of a barbaric warrior. How, Mizor did not know, but how had that midget been carrying a poleaxe? Cain said that Meshif collected jade, so they took it over to his ship. It turns out that it was the very rare #47 of a 60-statue set put out by Steroid Stud magazine. Meshif was so happy to complete his collection, he gave Mizor a frilly little filigree statuette of a golden bird in exchange. It was all very odd, but it would explain why Meshif was so well-built for a sea captain, if he read muscle magazines. Maybe he'd picked it up in the navy. Alkor the alchemist gave Mizor a potion in exchange for the bird. It was very tasty and good.

Deeper in the jungles, giant spiders had built huge underground nests to incubate their eggs. Cain said the spiders had once been much smaller, and harmless; yet another example of how the corruption of demons could taint even the purity of animals. Mizor went through both of the nests they found, killing huge, venomous spiders and crushing their eggs, when he found something locked in a chest: a human eye, but the iris was red. It felt much tougher than a normal eye had a right to be, too, so Mizor took it back to Cain to ask about.

==Chapter 10==

The eye Mizor found in the spiders' cavern was a holy relic of some kind. Cain had been talking with the townspeople while Mizor was out slaughtering the minions of evil, and it seems that a long time ago, a priest named Khalim had opposed the rest of the high council of Zakarum on some religious matter. This was before the evil of organized religion had become as obvious as it was now, so when the council killed him, it didn't raise much of a stir. But parts of Khalim's body wouldn't burn on his pyre: his eye, his brain, and his heart. His favorite flail proved likewise indestructible. Naturally, this was a sign from the Light that Khalim was blessed, so the council hid these parts in secret locations, to disguise their own corruption and hypocrisy. Cain guessed that this was Khalim's eye, and was sure it could be used in some way to bring about Mephisto's downfall.

When he visited Hratli to get a psycho-midget's head off of his boot (the damn thing bit him and wouldn't let go even after he decapitated it), Hratli mentioned that he had a protective spell around the dockside, which kept the monsters and most of the jungle growth out. With slow persistence, the jungle was rooting into the spell and weakening it, but there was a way it might be reinforced. Before the religion of Zakarum was established in these lands, the religion of Skatsim held sway. The Skatsimi had powerful relics, one of which was a dagger called the Gidbinn, which could bolster protective enchantments, and with it, the spell on the docks could be strengthened. Which religion prized what toy made little difference to Mizor, but magic was magic, and the dockside spell did keep the mosquitoes out.

Back in the jungle, Mizor trudged through a great, bug and zombie-infested marsh, which contained nothing of interest. Plunging in deeper, everything suddenly went quiet... just before the jungle came alive with dozens of midgets! They were everywhere, running around like screaming little monkeys, blowing tiny darts from behind leaves, zipping in and out and suicidally diving into you with knives half the size of their bodies. There were bigger ones too -- no, that was one riding on another's shoulders, breathing fire and raising up its fallen kin. They hit hard, took quite a bit to kill, and were just everywhere... Mizor and Paige had to fight for every inch they gained. Paige mentioned something about sympathizing with Karen Black, but Mizor didn't know what she was talking about.

After too much of this, they found a tiny village, with tiny little huts, skulls impaled on tiny little spikes, and human bodies in a huge pot set to boil so long they'd gone green and moldy. Well, they may not have been there very long; the jungle was so moist and fetid, even Mizor was growing mold in places he couldn't keep clean. To one side a dagger was suspended above a little woven mat: was this the Gidbinn thing? When Mizor went to get it, it burst into flame, and a new wave of midgets attacked. One of them had a dagger, obviously of great power, which Mizor gave to Ormus. Wasn't it Hratli who'd made the enchantment? Anyway, Ormus was very pleased, gave Mizor a fairly nice ring, and composed a poem in his honor.

O beast, great and hairy,

Growing green with rack and toil,

Whose odor does remind one

Of meat begun to spoil;

Do not tire of screaming foes,

or threats slimy and fungal!

For what a bear does in the woods,

He may do in the jungle!

Even if he'd been a better speaker, Mizor would have been at a loss for words.

Under the midget village was a dungeon. It was deep, maze-like, full of traps, and populated by more midgets than you could shake a Gidbinn at. The Flayers (judging from the human remains, they seemed to like flaying things alive) also kept their dead with them. Like most dead these days, they were lively; livelier and faster than the living ones, and they exploded into nasty, bony shards when destroyed. At least they didn't have lungs, and so couldn't blow darts. The dungeons were also home to many ghosts; places where people die in agony often are. These things gave Mizor the first real problem he'd had for a long time, when they sapped his spiritual strength with their touch. Spirit is so necessary for a lycanthrope, and after his first hard fight, Mizor learned to make a great shockwave before engaging ghosts, to stun them and keep them from swarming him.

At the bottom of the dungeons was a golden chest guarded by a fearsome Flayer shaman. The chest containing many treasures, and a human heart, still beating. Mizor wondered if the eye could still see, and the brain still think. What a revolting condition to find yourself in; was this a sign of a blessing from the Light, or a curse? He packed it away and returned to the surface, fighting on deeper into the jungle until they reached the outermost walls of Kurast, which surrounded the lower city.

==Chapter 11==

Well, if Mizor had begun to feel too sure of himself, lower Kurast changed his opinions. The area looked easy, relatively easy monsters and lots of magic items for the taking. Mizor was idly kicking baskets open as he waited for some green vultures to come down, not noticing that one was a unique, and both his wolves and Paige were in a nearby building, bumping up against the wall. Minions do that a lot; they get lost easily. Then the vultures came down, completely surrounding Mizor, and the unique got the first hit, instantly draining Mizor's mana reserves. Ah, extra fast, and mana burn. The unique and his crowd bunched up tight around Mizor and began swatting as fast and as often as they could.

The unique had a lot of hit points, so Mizor started thinning the crowd, taking out minions one by one. As the fight dragged on, and Mizor took more and more hits, something that he'd begun to think about in the Flayer dungeon was becoming painfully clear: Goreshovel simply wasn't doing the job anymore. It was nice, it was fast... it did more damage than any of the Great Axes he'd found, and he didn't want to fight with anything slower than that. The fight got so bad that Mizor was seriously considering drinking a purple potion, when the Great Bear saw his plight, and came to his aid just in the nick of time! (He really just hit level 30, and got his hit points and mana back.) Running out of the circle, Mizor stomped out a shockwave, and mopped up the stunned vultures easily. But that was much too close.

Paige got another deduction in pay. She mumbled some excuse about the door being stuck, but Mizor would have none of it. He also unsummoned both wolves, even though it made Paige cry. At least he wouldn't have to listen to any more "where's my puppy-wuppy?" talk, the Great Bear realized that Mizor could have a real pet now. So, he summoned his bear. Ah, much better, a bear worthy of the name; big as a house! Well, big as a room. Maybe big as a sofa. But bigger than a wolf! A much more proper fighting companion.

Back in town, he did some more shopping. Hratli had been making weapons in his magic forge, but had nothing worth using. Ormus had nothing, Asheara had nothing, and he hadn't found a single useful thing in Kurast. Maybe he should take something to Charsi, she said she could imbue an unenchanted item with magical properties... no, better save that for an emergency.

Mizor, Paige, and Bear returned to Kurast, and cleaned up the rest of the lower city, much more carefully. Bear was wonderful, smashing demons around; sometimes, they'd bounce off walls and Mizor could smash them again on the rebound. Moving in ever further, they came to a huge marketplace, and saw Zakarumites for the first time. Supposedly, these were warriors of faith and the light. They were ragged, starved, and empty-eyed, but died easily. Some small temples stood at each end of the bazaar; inside were huge hairy beasts, ghouls that summoned fire from the heavens, and hordes of mostly-naked women who attacked in a suicidal frenzy. Mizor wondered if they'd been nuns or something. In one temple, a black book stood on a lectern, though none of these people seemed up to any heavy reading. Alkor was happy to have it, though.

Under the bazaar were sewers, wide and extensive, but only one level deep. On a trip back to town, Hratli presented him with something that might replace Goreshovel: a Brutal Maul of the Bat. The weight felt good in his paws, but Mizor kept Goreshovel handy, just in case. Down in the sewer, a horde of burnt-black skeletons attacked, with one of those huge mummies, like the ones from Lut Gholein. Mizor charged up Maul bashing skellies, then ran around, took a swing at the Horadrim Ancient... and watched its head pop off and bounce into the water. Oooh. Mizor began to like this new maul. Onward they went, and Mizor began to like his new maul more and more; sure it took forever to connect, but the things it hit tended to go away very quickly. In a sump, a golden box contained a well-preserved human brain, firm to the touch. Ew.

By now he was thoroughly lost, so Mizor went up the first sewer outlet he could find and came out in the upper city. More Zakarumites attacked zealously, with priests who healed them and summoned cold blasts. All were quite undernourished, and died easily. The priests disintegrated in a puff of skin and bone fragments when struck down; Mizor wondered if any of them were really alive at all anymore. The upper city also had two little temples, with nothing especially exciting about them or the city itself. The center of Kurast was called Travincal, a city within the city, built on an island in the center of a large lake. A bare stone causeway led out over the water to the center of everything, where Mephisto had been imprisoned, and now ruled his captors.

==Chapter 12==

Approaching Travincal, Mizor saw several tall buildings that had once been grand. Neglected and falling apart, they surrounded a black tower that had fallen down long ago; Mephisto's soulstone was kept below it. Hratli had wondered why the Horadrim built a tower to house the stone, when they had every intention of burying it in a deep vault. Mizor just shrugged; he had seen too many things that made no sense to him, in so many parts of the world, to wonder at an unneeded building. The raised causeway had two small temples, filled with some of the same serpent people Mizor had seen in Lut Gholein. This land had supposedly produced the cat people who plagued Lut Gholein; how did the monsters get across the sea? An interesting question, but Mizor had more pressing matters before him.

The causeway led into the middle of Travincal, where 4 blood-stained altars had been raised before the symbol of the sun's light. Mizor doubted that the light appreciated them. More zealous followers of Zakarum filled the city, but these looked well-fed and muscular, not the half-starved wretches Mizor stomped so easily. Not that this saved them, or their priests. Also in the city were ghouls, who brought more burning rocks from the sky; if nothing else, they provided convincing proof of the corruption of Zakarum, to see them at war alongside the faithful. They went through the city, smashing religious nuts left, right, and center, and finally approached the blackened tower.

The high council of Zakarum itself was in the tower, ready to defend... what? They would not come out until Mizor approached quite close. After getting a look at them, Mizor was sure the reason was nothing less than shame. None of them even looked human anymore. Their bones and flesh were twisted in chaotic ways; limping and flailing grotesque limbs, making bizarre hooting noises, they rushed out with fearsome speed. Smashing them would be a mercy, and Mizor felt quite merciful, looking at them. It wasn't easy, their twisted bodies were tough and resilient, but with Paige's cold arrows chilling them, and a few well-placed shockwaves, Mizor and Bear broke their bones and sent them to their reward.

Inside the tower, a glowing glass orb sat on a short stand. Mizor didn't look too closely at it. Going over the bodies, Mizor found a flail, surely belonging to Khalim, and noted that only 3 of the dead things had high council medallions; weren't there more of them than that? Ormus confirmed that the number of councilors was 7. Sankekur, head of the church of Zakarum, now embodied Mephisto, so 3 council members were unaccounted for.

The flail was Khalim's, and Cain suggested putting it in the Horadric Cube, with the eye, heart, and brain. Together, they created a flail with spiked golden skulls for balls; an odd look for a weapon of light, but Mizor wasn't sure if anything wholesome could come out of the church, even if it was Khalim's. But the flail could be used to smash that orb, which was apparently what kept the Zakarum faithful from rising up against their masters. And here Mizor had thought they were all just nuts, they were actually being compelled by this thing. Well, maybe organized religion couldn't completely wipe out common sense, if Mephisto needed magic to control the church.

When he returned, Mizor tried bashing the orb with his Maul; it wouldn't break. Even Goreshovel's edge couldn't crack the glass. But Khalim's flail did, and as the orb shattered into a million pieces, the flail vanished in a flurry of golden motes of light, which rose up to the sky and spread out to the horizon. A vast groan went up, and a sigh as great as the land itself shook what was left of the tower to the ground. Outside, trees and vines were dying back everywhere, falling off the buildings and collapsing into little piles of earth. Good, clean earth, it looked like too; Mizor normally wasn't happy to see plants dying away. Then he noticed a hole in the back wall of the tower, where a stairway led down; it had been blocked before. Mizor was sure Mephisto would not wall up the way in before his brothers arrived; he was pr

Show more