Diablo® III

“Heroes Rise, Darkness Falls” eBook Now Available

“Heroes Rise, Darkness Falls” eBook Now Available

"Heroes Rise, Darkness Falls" is now available for download from select online retailers. This eBook anthology features five previously published dark tales based on Diablo III's hero classes as well as two never-before-seen short stories set in the shadow-shrouded world of Sanctuary.

Check out excerpts from "The Hunger" and "Theatre Macabre: The Dark Exile" (the two newest additions to the anthology) below, and head to Barnes&Noble or Amazon.com to order!

Excerpt from "The Hunger"
Excerpt from "Theater Macabre: The Dark Exile"
"The Hunger"
by Erik Sabol

The sand was cool between his toes. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead beneath a heavy thatch of red-brown hair. They trickled down and ran over the swell of his cheeks.

His pulse quickened. He shuffled closer—a stout, fleshy silhouette in the dim moonlight—and the sound went quiet. Rigley offered a quick glance over one shoulder. Lidra hadn't moved. Her face was peaceful in the fading firelight.

He stepped into the shadow of the old wagon. The hiss returned, bled through the gaps in the warped, crooked planks, and the frame seemed to tremble.

Rigley laid a shaky hand on the timber. He looked through a narrow slit between two boards, but inside the wagon was dark.

Carefully he crept around the side, fork quivering in his hand, and peeked into the cabin. "Who's there?" he said, and something shifted among the inventory. He reeled back, utensil extended, eyeing the cargo in the shadows.

The hiss intensified, then faded into a long, throaty groan. An alabaster jug rolled from the wagon and thudded to the sand. Sitting where it had been was Lidra's sack—a small, crudely woven bag tied off with twine. At least, that was what it had appeared to be when Lidra had first carried it into his wagon. But now, now the cloth was on fire with purple light. Rigley stepped nearer and saw that the light had taken the form of runes, ancient letters, which writhed around the sack as if they were serpents.

Rigley took another step and tried to get a closer look. He was no expert in magical artifacts, but he knew that they could be of immense value if one spoke with the right people. The woman, Lidra, she must have been trying to fool Rigley into thinking this was just a mundane bag, for she had simply tossed it into the back of the wagon with the rest of her gear. What better way to hide a fortune? Rigley grinned at her cleverness... and at his own. Now to find out what jeweled treasure lay inside.

"The Hunger"
by Erik Sabol

The sand was cool between his toes. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead beneath a heavy thatch of red-brown hair. They trickled down and ran over the swell of his cheeks.

His pulse quickened. He shuffled closer—a stout, fleshy silhouette in the dim moonlight—and the sound went quiet. Rigley offered a quick glance over one shoulder. Lidra hadn't moved. Her face was peaceful in the fading firelight.

He stepped into the shadow of the old wagon. The hiss returned, bled through the gaps in the warped, crooked planks, and the frame seemed to tremble.

Rigley laid a shaky hand on the timber. He looked through a narrow slit between two boards, but inside the wagon was dark.

Carefully he crept around the side, fork quivering in his hand, and peeked into the cabin. "Who's there?" he said, and something shifted among the inventory. He reeled back, utensil extended, eyeing the cargo in the shadows.

The hiss intensified, then faded into a long, throaty groan. An alabaster jug rolled from the wagon and thudded to the sand. Sitting where it had been was Lidra's sack—a small, crudely woven bag tied off with twine. At least, that was what it had appeared to be when Lidra had first carried it into his wagon. But now, now the cloth was on fire with purple light. Rigley stepped nearer and saw that the light had taken the form of runes, ancient letters, which writhed around the sack as if they were serpents.

Rigley took another step and tried to get a closer look. He was no expert in magical artifacts, but he knew that they could be of immense value if one spoke with the right people. The woman, Lidra, she must have been trying to fool Rigley into thinking this was just a mundane bag, for she had simply tossed it into the back of the wagon with the rest of her gear. What better way to hide a fortune? Rigley grinned at her cleverness... and at his own. Now to find out what jeweled treasure lay inside.

"Theater Macabre: The Dark Exile"
by James Waugh

"I saw glimpses of a war in the Hells. The great Prime Evils were taken aback by the brazenness of the Lessers. Demons fought each other, and pain and agony reigned. Cries of anguish! I could see the fury of warring beings beyond comprehension, staccato flashes of demonic beasts fighting in a pit of flame. It was hot. Oh, so hot. I felt as if my skin was burning. And then the heat washed away, and the images coalesced until I found myself in the chambers of the Lessers and the serenity of a moment free from warfare.

"Andariel and Duriel were arguing; they wanted to break the pact with the other Lessers. I could hear their voices. 'What have we done?' Duriel asked in a trembling tenor. 'They will destroy us all. They will never stop until—'

"Belial—I could see him—a spindly wraith with a jaw full of razor-sharp teeth, revolting yet powerful, had stepped into the cavern. 'How dare you question! How dare you deny yourselves victory! Long have the Primes lorded over us. Long have they thought themselves our betters. Diablo... Diablo will fall, as will the rest. Do not be swayed or led to fear by him. Do not, for each of you will reign. Each of you will share the power we will earn.' I could feel his lies. I knew that Belial spoke with his own interests in mind, that he had machinations beyond what he'd show his family.

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