Diablo® III

Fan Fiction - The Halls of the Dead

85 Blood Elf Mage
0
" From the archives of Luth Golein is found a stained old journal of a lost merchant Mazaar Ahl'ador. The pages are stained with blood and the covers have begun to lose their color, recovered from the site known only as the Halls of the Dead by the mysterious hero "

The Halls of the Dead - Part I

" My name is Mazaar, I am a traveling merchant from the city of Luth Golein. My story like any other has a beginning, the family I once had is now but a fading memory. I was still young, just a boy when my family went missing. Rumors about dark magic being used and sinister experiments conducted those maddened by their cause to bring ruin to the Sanctuary, yet there never was any actual proof which could justify the vicious gossip. I figured that I was a burden, I was abandoned to be left alone in this empty world to wander about and seek a purpose. It was soon enough when I found that there was more to it than meets the eye, the life on the streets of the city was difficult to say the least yet one finds will to survive in extreme conditions. "

" The desert is merciless to those who know not how to tread it, the unforgiving sun and constant heat is what has killed most of wildlife, the water is a rare sight and many who have wandered too far without precautions have fallen, vultures circling the skies as they savor their meal to come leaving their blood-stained bones to liter within the passing of the wind and sand. "

" Regardless of my family I never lost hope and seeked my fortune as I begun traveling the world, I had the element of luck as I had stumbled across a rare artifact which was easily sold in the market of Luth Golein. As I earned my first coin I knew exactly where my destiny lied following my gut I became who I am today. "

" As I found myself in the far reaches of the deserts with the blue sea edging over the horizon behind the dusty canyons, as far as my eye could see. The sight was magnificent yet my interest was quickly drawn by the side of the canyon. What I saw was an entrance of some sort, as I approached it to take a closer look I quickly noticed the odd symbols and texts of old carved into the sides of the doorway. Sadly I couldn't interpret them yet I had a hunch that what ever was down there could be valuable, and from the signs of it no one had been here for a long time. "

" Once I went through the doorway and stepped into the darkness I begun to decent the staircase, reaching for my bag of supplies I took out a latern and lit it to illuminate my path and what I saw was stunning. The walls had been marked with long texts even primitive images of people kneeling before some deity. Regardless of a feeling telling me to stop and turn back I continued to wander my way deeper into the dungeon, the air had become harder to breathe and what felt like hours I finally came to stop before a large door. It's surface full of odd symbols, ones I had never set my eyes upon yet in it's center you could clearly see what appeared like a golden skull. As I tried to remove it from the door I found it being stuck there, but for my suprise once I pushed upon it I heard a cracking voice in the distance echoing through the halls laying behind the heavy door. It begun to shake and soon enough it raised up and allowed me to pass. I entered through the doorway and saw no signs of life, instead the room was litered with bones humanoid mostly, there were too many to count. I can also tell there were many urns scattered across the room. I continued on, yet as I had reached to a fair distance from the door I heard it slamming down closed once more I was trapped. I rushed to the door inspecting it, trying to find a way to open it again but the attempts were futile not even with ten men could I had lift it. I only had once choice, and that was to go further and hopefully find another way out. "

" When I made through the rooms of this forsaken place I came to comprehend that this was no mere dungeon, it was a tomb. A tomb for soldiers their remains littering the underground everywhere you looked. Perhaps even my father and mother rest here without a proper burial their spirits screaming to be put to rest. I heard voices every now end then, whispers from the distance It was dark and I wasn't sure how long could I keep this all up. I had enough food to survive about a week if anything, and my water supplies were almost up. Even the oil in my lantern was beginning to run out. "

[To Be Continued. Feedback could be apriciated. ]
Edited by Pyrothel on 10/03/2012 23:58 GMT
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