Diablo: The Sin War Box Set: Birthright, Scales of the Serpent, and The Veiled Prophet

by Richard A. Knaak

  However enigmatic the statement, Uldyssian had already learned to heed such comments. “No one follows,” he repeated, staring down everyone. “Or it won’t be the wrath of demons you face.”

  Hoping that they would listen but still fearing that some—especially Serenthia—might yet disobey, Uldyssian crossed the threshold of the door through which Dialon’s followers would have gone. The moment he was clear, the door slammed behind him, just as he knew that so too did the other pair.

  He had sealed the way, at least temporarily. Even Mendeln and Serenthia would find it difficult to overcome his effort. So long as he could, Uldyssian would keep the path to the underground chambers—the area where worship of the Triune’s true masters took place—barred from anyone else. Too many had perished for him already.

  He sensed the demons nearer, although their exact locations were not known. In truth, they were only a part of the reason that Uldyssian wanted only himself at risk.

  Perhaps that had been what Mendeln had meant, Uldyssian suddenly realized. Perhaps with his own strange abilities his brother had also detected the more subtle yet distinctive third presence awaiting Uldyssian…a presence that was much, much more powerful than a mere senior priest and known so very well to both of them.

  A presence that could only be Lilith.

  Two

  All around Mendeln, the voices whispered. The awful truth concerning this place was best known to him, who could hear the victims’ own words.

  So many, he thought. So many wrongly done in. The Balance is much askew because of this place alone.

  Uldyssian’s brother did not understand exactly just what “the Balance” was, but knew that the horrible events that had taken place in the inner recesses of the temple over the past years had certainly befouled “it.” That disturbed him even more than all the deaths this night, although their cumulative effect was no good thing, either.

  And then there was also Lilith…or Lylia, as he, Serenthia, and most painfully of all, Uldyssian, had known her.

  Serenthia stalked back and forth like an impatient cat, her eyes ever on the doors so effectively “locked” by his brother. The rest of Uldyssian’s followers eagerly spread through the chambers, tearing apart the grand trappings as they went along despite the fact that the fires consuming other portions of the building would eventually do the same here. Mendeln, aware that victory was truly not theirs yet, paid great heed to the voices, even those of the dead priests and Peace Warders. Not the morlu, of course, for they were creatures long dead and so from them there was only emptiness. He listened very carefully, focusing on some that seemed more relevant than others.

  How simple we were, Mendeln thought almost wisfully. Farmers and brothers in a small village, destined to live out our lives tilling the soil and raising livestock. It was Lilith’s fault that it had come to all this, Lilith, who had chosen Uldyssian to be her pawn in some otherworldly struggle between demons and angels over a pitiful little rock called by them Sanctuary.

  Mendeln’s world.

  He did not consider either himself or his brother to be champions of Mankind, but Uldyssian especially had been cast into a role he could now never discard. The fate of everything apparently depended upon what he chose to do. Mendeln could only try to be there to lend whatever questionable support that he could.

  His musings were interrupted by a deep sense of foreboding. The voices cut off, save for one that did not belong with them. It was stronger, alive, and one that had comforted Mendeln as much as it had guided him through his own mysterious transformation.

  Beware the hands of the Three…it said. They grasp for everything, then crush it in their all-consuming grip…

  Mendeln’s brow wrinkled at this esoteric comment. Of what useful knowledge was such—

  “Serenthia!” he shouted with more animation than any had heard from him in days. “All of you! Stay back from the statues—”

  But his warning came too late for some. As if of living flesh, the gargantuan effigies bent forward. Bala’s heavy hammer came down on two Torajians, crushing them beneath it. Dialon battered away a hapless Parthan with the edge of one of the tablets.

  Mefis…Mefis seized a woman and squeezed hard. Even Mendeln found himself nauseated by the monstrous results.

  With a scraping of stone that echoed through the huge chamber like the combined moans of the dead, the statues descended among the invaders. The once confident band now retreated back to the doors through which they had come, but those doors, too, were also now shut…and not because of Uldyssian.

  “Lilith…” he gasped just as massive Dialon turned a stony gaze his way. The colossus raised his hammer. “Very much Lilith…”

  Through the empty worship hall he strode, eyes and other senses ever on alert. Androgynous effigies of Dialon stared down at Uldyssian, who thought that the supposedly benevolent images looked more mocking than anything else.

  What great demon are you, Dialon? he grimly wondered. What’s your true name?

  In the outer chambers, torches in niches in the walls had well illuminated everything. In here, though, only a few round oil lamps dangling from the arched ceiling gave any light and that not much. Moreover, the path ahead looked even darker, finally fading into utter blackness perhaps ten yards or so ahead.

  Yet still Uldyssian moved on. He passed by and under the huge statues, entering the passage that he knew would lead him to her.

  Just as she desired.

  The beautiful, aristocratic vision that had first graced his wondering eyes what seemed so long ago still remained strong with him even after the discovery of the dread truth and the subsequent betrayal. The thick, long blond tresses, often artfully bound atop the head as befitting a noble-woman, the glittering emerald eyes, the slim perfect lips—they would never leave his imagination.

  But with them also remained the nightmarish recollection of an inhuman seductress, a creature with scaled flesh, vicious quills for hair, and a tail like the reptile she resembled.

  “Lylia…” he muttered, the name both a curse and a yearning. “Damn you, Lilith…”

  Something scurried over his foot. Startled more because he had not sensed it rather than from the thing itself, Uldyssian squinted. It was only a spider, albeit a fair-sized one. It was hardly surprising to find such a creature in this place. Uldyssian immediately forgot it, his concerns with vermin much larger and more deadly.

  The last of the failing oil lamps gave way. Darkness prevailed. All this was a show for him, he realized. He had come hunting what he considered evil and so they were granting him the appropriate mood. This was in some ways a game to them and that knowledge further infuriated the human. They cared nothing for all the lives lost, not even of those who had willingly served them.

  Something got into his face. He swatted at it, then felt a tiny creature crawling on the back of his hand. Uldyssian brushed it off, aware that it was a second spider.

  Deciding this was a move in the game he could do without, Uldyssian summoned light.

  The first time he had managed this feat, it had been due, Uldyssian later understood, to Lilith’s presence. Now, it was as familiar to him as breathing. But the pale white glow he called into being now was not nearly as powerful as it should have been. The sphere barely revealed the stone corridor more than two yards ahead. He could sense much farther than that, but natural instinct made him want to see it, too.

  While it was possible for him to increase the sphere’s intensity by concentrating more on it, Uldyssian would then be able to focus less on his surroundings. This was not like the battle with Lucion, where as much of what Uldyssian had achieved had been due to outrage as it had natural ability. He needed to move with utter caution, for Lucion’s cunning was nothing compared with that of his devilish sister.

  The corridor stretched farther than it should have, at least according to his senses. Whether illusion or not, Uldyssian would find out soon enough. Lilith would not let him wait much longer.

&nbs
p; He let out a sharp cry as what felt like a fork jabbed the skin at the back of his neck. His flailing hands knocked off a furred form with many legs.

  The arachnid scurried out of the illumination. As he rubbed the burning patch of skin, Uldyssian noticed that the path behind him had also grown dark. The light from the chamber had been completely cut off.

  The wound began to throb. Uldyssian berated himself for letting something so mundane as a spider get through defenses that morlu, and thus far, Lilith had not.

  Or…had she?

  Focusing his will on the wound, Uldyssian quickly expelled whatever the creature had left in him, then completely healed the location. He could thank the high priest Malic for the trick, having watched the villain eject Achilios’s arrow from his back before attending to the wound itself.

  But even as the son of Diomedes finished, over him flowed a swarm of multilegged creatures with sharp fangs and claws. Growing up on a farm, he was used to all sorts of insects and arachnids, but none such as these. They moved with vile purpose, attacking as quickly as they could in as many places as possible. They bit through garments and even through boots, while others crawled over them to find flesh of their own to attack.

  At first, his reaction was simply human. He swore and tried to wipe them off as quickly as possible. The spiders made his attempts laughable by even clinging to the hands that sought to remove them. Within a heartbeat, Uldyssian was all but covered by the swarm.

  Then, reason managed to return. Taking a deep breath—while avoiding swallowing any of the tinier vermin—Uldyssian concentrated on the floating sphere.

  Now at last, the fiery ball flared bright…in fact, a thousand times greater than before. At the same time, heat enveloped Uldyssian and his unwanted pets.

  However, where the heat only warmed the man, it seared the spiders.

  They shriveled rapidly under the relentless scorching. Shrill cries—in some ways too close to human—assailed Uldyssian’s ears. By the dozens, then hundreds, tiny, burnt corpses tumbled to the stone floor.

  Sweating more from effort than heat, he finally reduced the globe’s fury to a more tolerable level. Around him rose a stench more reminiscent of decay than burning. Uldyssian kicked at one pile of vermin, which scattered into ash.

  But as his foot descended to the floor again, it found no purchase. Instead, it sank into the stone as if into water.

  Uldyssian suddenly sensed the immediate presence of one of the demons, but that knowledge came too late. Something snagged his sinking leg, trying to completely draw him into the floor. A thick, slow, malevolent laugh echoed in the corridor.

  Something formed just at the edge of the sphere’s light. It looked to Uldyssian like a grotesque, inhuman head made from the stone itself. A fissure opened, one that spread into a crude, bestial grin.

  “Waant…” it said hungrily, then chuckled again.

  Whatever held Uldyssian’s leg dragged him toward the ever-expanding maw. Two other, smaller fissures opened up behind the mouth, forming eyes of a sort.

  “Huuuungrrryyy…” the demon rumbled merrily. “Waaant…”

  Recovering from his astonishment, Uldyssian gritted his teeth and leaned forward. The demon chuckled again, perhaps thinking that its prey wanted to end this quickly. Uldyssian did, of course…just not the way the creature desired.

  He slammed a fist into the watery stone. The power of the nephalem enabled him to send a shock wave that coursed over his macabre attacker much the way the spiders had over him. Uldyssian had not had any idea if what he intended would work; he only knew that focusing his will and determination on a goal had saved him more than once.

  The demon let out a roar of outrage and pain as the wave of pure force finished sweeping across him. The mouth twisted into a sinister frown and the eyes glared.

  “Gulag kills!” it rumbled needlessly.

  The walls rushed in on Uldyssian, who only now understood that everything around him had become part of the bestial demon.

  He let out a pained groan as the stone crushed against him. Pinned and with his bones already feeling as if they were breaking, Uldyssian almost gave in to his destruction. However, once again her visage appeared in his mind, beautiful but also monstrous…and utterly mocking his failure.

  Straining every muscle, he pushed against the crushing forces, pushed against them…and finally won. The walls receded enough for him to get his hands in position, at which point Uldyssian shoved them apart as hard as he could.

  From Gulag, there was a sound that Uldyssian could only guess had to be of consternation. It was doubtful that anyone had ever escaped the beast’s grasp.

  Seizing upon the change in fortune, the son of Diomedes reached down and took hold of the liquid stone in both hands. It should have slipped through his fingers, but the power of the nephalem again prevailed over that of Gulag. To Uldyssian, the demon felt like a slithering serpent minus the bones. It writhed in his grip, but could not slip free.

  “Is Gulag still hungry?” he mocked.

  Although clearly confused, the creature was either still confident of his might or simply too dull witted to realize that he faced no mere human. Uldyssian hoped for the latter, but could not discount the former, which meant that the sooner this ended, the better.

  With a titanic tug, he drew Gulag nearer. As the demon flowed toward Uldyssian, once more the man felt something clutch not only the one leg, but the other, too.

  As this happened, Gulag let out another bestial roar. The walls and the rest of the nearby floor rose and poured toward Uldyssian in what was clearly a rush to smother the resisting prey. Uldyssian held his breath instinctively, then stared at the part of Gulag he held in his hands. It felt like skin or parchment…and that helped him decide what to do next.

  As he had done before, Uldyssian pulled his hands as far apart as he could, only this time maintaining his grip on the sinister creature.

  Like the parchment he had chosen to imagine it to be, the essence of the demon came apart with an awful ripping sound. Gulag let out a cry resembling the roar of a raging river. The walls and floor flailed about, finally causing Uldyssian to lose his grip and sending him falling.

  But that was all that the demon could muster. Uldyssian’s attack had done him in. The rip continued to spread, running quickly along Gulag’s length and not even ceasing its momentum when it reached the deep maw and sinister orbs.

  Gulag was literally torn in two. The halves quivered like pudding. A moan escaped both—

  Then, with one last rumble…the demon melted.

  His form lost all substance. Gulag completely liquified, puddling on the floor. A faint slime covered the walls and ceiling, but otherwise they were normal again.

  The stone was once more solid beneath Uldyssian’s feet, solid, if sticky. An odor akin to rotting garbage assailed him.

  Something else caught his attention. Where once the corridor ahead had seemed endless, now another bronze door beckoned but a short distance away.

  Stepping cautiously through the sticky sludge that had once been the demon, Uldyssian advanced on the door. He waited for the next threat to strike him, but nothing happened. The embossed image of a gentle Dialon stared back at Uldyssian from the door.

  Uldyssian frowned. Another image, almost so indistinct as to be invisible, seemed to lay beneath that of the benevolent spirit. He squinted—

  With a gasp, Uldyssian looked away. Although he had just stared directly at it, he could not remember any exact detail of the awful vision, only that it had horrified him as nothing else had. He thought he recalled a glimpse of curled horns and of teeth as sharp as daggers…

  Shaking his head, Uldyssian forced the disturbing memory away. He dared not concentrate on the fiendish vision. Somehow, as faint as it had been, it yet drew from deep within him some childhood sense of terror. Every nightmare that had ever haunted Uldyssian as a young boy had, at least for a moment, returned as fresh as ever.

  Steeling himself anew, Uldyssia
n raised his hand toward the door. He knew better than to touch it. Even if Lilith had done nothing to it, surely the senior priests had cast some dire spell.

  As if propelled by an angry ghost, the door flung open. Uldyssian stepped through.

  The chamber was vast, possibly more so than even the great hall. Much of it was shadowed, the only illumination other than his sphere being torches set to best display a marble dais upon which stood a stone platform a little more than the length of a man and tilted slightly to the right.

  And on that platform—that altar—lay a grisly sight that had once been a man when still it had owned its flesh and organs.

  Uldyssian did not try to hold back his revulsion. Although it did not surprise him to find evidence of human sacrifice, the freshness of it shook him to the core. This very day, even as he and his followers had stormed the temple, a soul had been slaughtered in order to curry the favor of a demon.

  Then, he noticed a slight movement in the far upper corner above the platform, movement by something that had been hidden from his immediate detection. From what little Uldyssian had seen of it, it was a creature reminiscent of a gigantic, furred spider…but also…also somehow a man. The second demon? Uldyssian recalled the swarm of spiders and suspected that this was the source. If so, it was a far more cautious and cunning beast than Gulag.

  He started toward its location…then noticed the other figures moving toward him from the dark recesses in the back of the chamber. He had wondered when the senior priest would act. From what Uldyssian had gathered about the Triune’s inner workings, in all the lesser temples the three orders were overseen by one cleric chosen from either Mefis, Dialon, or Bala. Below him were three lesser priests who ministered for each the separate faiths. Only in the main temple by Kehjan could be found the three high priests—two now, with Malic recently dead—who governed the entire sect in the name of the Primus.

  A heavyset, bald figure in gray and bloodred robes gestured almost indifferently at Uldyssian. Immediately, a dozen acolytes whose own garments represented all three orders raised their hands palm up and began chanting.