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Precursor to the events of the Falling star
A storm is all that could be herd from the dark that was the night of Tristram. The clatter of rain on the roof tops providing those with the desire not be heard a safe haven. The streets empty of life, for as unknowing as the people were, there instincts drove them into there houses. An eire sense of hate seemed to loom over the unsuspecting citizens. In the darkness, near a glimmering light, sat Deckard Cain, who had recently returned from his travels to the East.
At a glance you would not recognize him for he wore a dark hooded cloak, tattered and stained by the rough weather from which he had traveled. It had been a long journey, with very little rest. Where he went is unknown, but what is known is talked about only in hushed tones around those even more weary listeners. The same could be said for what he found, but let it sufficeth to say that it was dark. In his hands an unraveled scroll, which was old and torn, was marked by an ancient seal of the Nephalem .
As he began studying the scrolls text he was unconsciously aware of a lingering darkness, which he passed off as his mind wandering. Cautiously he continued searching the contents of what seemed to be the descriptions of an ancient evil. The name being scratched out of the scroll so it could not be named. Though Cain had a sense as to whom the scroll referred, his suspicions grew as the darkness in the texts began to seep into his mind.
Cain scanned the rest of the scroll in hopes he could finish before it was to late to turn back. He was suddenly struck with fear as he read the last line, which appeared to have been written in blood "Cave morantem tenebris, diabolus." He read the words aloud as if to speak them into existence, beware the awaiting darkness, but the last word he dared not speak aloud.
For awhile there was nothing but silence. Fear crept over Cain as he stared, stunned by what he had read. It was then he felt it, the shadow that had been hiding in the back of his mind, skipping around the edges, going unnoticed until now. Through the silence an echoing voice, he could not seem to locate, although he seemed to recognize, yelled, "You must leave."
Cain turned to see the shadow that he had felt encroaching, the very thing he had been sensing in the outskirts of his mind, no longer a figment of his thoughts. Then he herd the same booming voice say "Run Deckard Cain." So he did. He ran straight out the door and into Tristram.
It was as he had feared, darkness was enveloping the land, threatening to over take it. He headed straight for the slaughtered calf inn, in hopes that he could find his Niece, Leah.
As he entered the Inn, he doubled over from his exhaustion. Leah, who was sitting next to the fire in her dark leather jacket and thick leather jeans, turned at the sound of a man falling to the floor.
She Helped the man into a chair to catch his breath, it was apparent he had run a long distance by the constant gasping for air. It was then his hood fell back and Leah was struck by the realization that it was her Uncle who she had not seen in over six months.
Concerned, she forced him to tell her all that had occurred, for surely it was important if it caused him such distress. Deckard Cain explained in detail, all of his travels, what he had found and the recent events that led to him collapsing in the Inn. leaving out only the voice that he had heard, for she would have called him mad. Leah listened patiently as her Uncle reiterated his accounts of that last six months.
Edited by Arcadian on 3/31/2012 2:09 PM PDT
I would recommend writing more, but also use more description. How does their location feel (beyond the eerie sense of hatred)? Is it cold? Warm? Hot? What does Deckard Cain look like? How does Leah look? What are they wearing?
Also, could you split it up into more paragraphs--while it's not one gargantuan wall of text, it is two large walls of text. I make this request so it'll be easier on the eyes.
I am eager to see you continue. Anyways, please write more--I wish to see where this goes.
He told her he needed to find someway to stop its approach and begged her to come with him to the Cathedral. It didnt take much convincing before she agreed to leave. Although she was skeptical, for she didn't believe the stories he'd told her growing up, she wouldn't let him go alone and more then anything she was happy to see her Uncle.
For the next couple of hours they talked as Deckard Cain regained his strength. Not much had changed in his absence, of course other then Leah. She'd seemed sterner, stronger, and at the same time more graceful and pleasant. It pleased him to see her become a woman as if the results of raising her had blossomed in his absence. After Deckard had regained his strength and packed some food for the travel, he decided it was time to leave.
As they began to leave the inn they stopped. Through the window, there in the middle of town, a Hooded Figure was standing facing the direction of the Inn. There was something strange about the way he stood. As if he wasn't held by the same gravity that kept them on the ground. His arms and hands, slightly too long, adorned with a golden armor that was magnificent and terrifying. The look in his eyes, that were almost red, gave Leah the sense that everything about this Hooded figure was a lie.
Fear immediately struck Leah as she stared at the horrific Figure. Something in the back of her mind triggered, like a distant memory coming to the surface and she froze, she'd seen him before.
There came a dark voice, like the sound of a hushed echo, from the direction of the Hooded Figure, though it didn't seam to come from him, "I've found you, did you think you could hide forever?"
Hate, disgust, and most of all fear thrashed her as she fell to her knees. She couldnt tell what she was more afraid of, this thing or the evident fact that she felt she knew him and that these emotions were somehow not hers. The more she thought about it the more it shook her sense of identity. Every bone in her body told her to run. But there she knelt motionless, to scared to move.
The voice, she recognized the voice, she knew who this was. The name came to her suddenly and unexpectedly, like someone had just whispered a dark secret into her ear. She said the name through her teeth, since the rest of her jaw refused to move. Belial.
Deckard Cains head snapped in her direction, his face emotionless. "How?" But, she didn't respond. She had no idea how she knew and was not sure she wanted to find out. Cain turned back toward the Hooded figure but he was gone. Faster then should have been possible by a man his age, he grabbed Leahs shoulder and dragged her back into the Inn. In a stern tone he said, "I believe its time we left."
Edited by Arcadian on 3/31/2012 1:17 PM PDT
With the supplies in hand and a desire to leave at once, Deckard Cain pushed Leah through the door of the Inn. There wasn't anytime to waist and they'd already lost precious time just grabbing everything. Leah still half in a daze followed her Uncle out the door.
They tied their packs securely to the horses. Beautiful Black Quarters, with scars and cuts the like were not common among common work horses, they had seen many a battle. Leah brushed the mane of the one she had tied her packs too, when it donned on her with a sudden realization, "Uncle these are not our horses." Deckard turned and stared at her for a moment. He was sure it would have been blatantly obvious, "If we do not go, they have no need of them." A deeper, heavier wave of fear, that of death, sunk deep into Leahs soul and she knew, he was right.
In a moment of panic she ran back inside the inn, and she searched for something that could be used to defend her self. There on the table, without a second thought she grabbed two, hand and a half swords, their owners probably getting something to drink or asleep in one of the inns rooms. Stealing wasn't something she wanted to get accustomed to, but she made a mental note to pay them back.
She ran back to the horses where she found her uncle already strapped in ready to leave. It amazed her sometimes how this old fragile man, seemed to be hiding a great strength. He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. She lifted up the two sheathed swords and he gave her an accusing look. "Because i'm sure these swords are worth more then the horses." She said with a hint of sarcasm. Deckard smiled for a half a second, but this wasn't a time for laughing. "Very well, hurry then and let us be off".
With an unspoken consent they took off through the middle of town, north toward the gates. The rain spraying there faces like a thousand ice cold arrows hitting their target, the fog thicker the closer they got to leaving town. The combination of fog, wind and rain, was a mix that could break even the most sturdy of men.
Leah took a quick glance at her Uncle who seemed to be fixated on something unseen. He bewildered her, this man, this fragile man, who ran from the library, picked her up off the ground, saddled a horse three times his size and is still willingly able to trek his way to the Cathedral. She loved him dearly, even if he was a crazy old man.
As they reached the gate they noticed something strange, the gate was open and that wasn't the only thing off. "Where are the guards?" Leah directed towards her Uncle. Deckard searched around the entrance to the gate and the road near the woods. Nothing, nothing but silence and the sound of a crow a mile or so away.
Then they herd it, a blood wrenching scream coming from within the woods on the eastern side of the road. The horses bucked back, throwing Leah to the cobblestone road, obviously shaken by the scream. It took her a moment to respond to being thrown off , but she quickly grabbed the sword from its sheath that was tied around her horse.
There she stood sword pointed toward the woods, ready to fight what ever came out. She wasn't a skilled swordsman, but survival could turn anyone into a warrior. After a moment, she decided it was safe to get back on the horse. She walked backwards, sword still erect. She quickly re-saddled and this time tied her self to the saddle to avoid a repeat in events.
As Leah sheathed the sword, she turned toward her Uncle and nodded. Deckard dug his heels into his horses side and he took of down the road toward the Cathedral. Leah took that as his way of saying, lets go.
Edited by Arcadian on 3/31/2012 1:25 PM PDT
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