Act II: Lut Gohlein (cont...)

Title: Diablo II: Lords of Justice (working title)
Authors: Mikkeneko (Act I and IV) and Gwynn (Act II, III and V).
Disclaimer: See summary.
Warnings: Violence up the wazoo! Slight language, angst, sap (it's Gwynn's brother's fault!), shonen ai (we hope!), fusion with D2:LoD (will explain...), utter spoiler for D2:LoD.
Pairings: None for the longest time, hopefully 1+2 and 3+4. Wufei is happily single.
Summary: The disclaimer and summary can be found here of the game, the plot and a description of the characters.


Part E: Night Watch

Wufei stripped off his armor, standing at the window. Ironically, now that the sun was no longer blocked, it was setting. The fading light set the horizon ablaze with color. He leaned on the window, letting his eyes wander while the light glistened off his bare torso. Sleek, defined muscles were accented in the fading light.

We could be out there, fighting more minions, but what good would we do if we dropped dead from exhaustion? Duo was wise to request a rest. I hope he-- and the others-- are well. With that, Wufei turned to his room and faced a shadowy figure. He bowed and it bowed back. He took a defensive pose and the shadow mirrored it. They circled around each other and finally the shadow struck, a sudden kick. Wufei was already dodging and lashing out with his fists, landing blows on the strangely solid shadow. The shadow struck out, striking Wufei's biceps and caused his arm to go numb. Cursing, Wufei backed up and aimed kicks at the shadow's head, torso and stomach. The shadow staggered back, bringing up it's arms to block a blow. It was not expecting a full shoulder check. It hit the floor and dissipated. Wufei smiled to himself. That was good.

He walked to the bath, testing the water for temperature. He stripped off his trousers and stepped into the bath, content.


Duo lay stomach-down on his bed, kicking his feet in the air absently, watching Heero do his prayers and devotions. When the young paladin finally stood and faced him, he smiled at Duo.

"You do that every night, why is that?" Duo asked. Heero stretched and arched his back, Duo noting the muscular lines of Heero's body. Heero flopped down on his bed, staring at the ceiling and tucked his hands behind his head.

"Paladins draw our strength from our devotion and our faith. Without the will of the Gods, we would be nothing. We train for years to become strong. While physical training is important, the training to our faith is crucial. We learn how to listen for the call of the Gods, to carry out Their will and sometimes, we can even speak to Them. The Gods called me to defeat the Lords of Destruction, Hatred and Terror where many of my comrades had failed and been corrupted. It is... exhilarating. Do you not have a faith to follow?" Heero asked. Duo frowned.

"I don't believe in Gods. If there were, why didn't they strike Diablo down? Why not stop the corrupted before they could raise armies? If they are all powerful, we should have been warned before everyone died. But they didn't, and people everywhere were slaughtered. Like in Tristram. Like at the Monastery. Like here..." Duo's expression went hard. "There are no Gods. There is only Death." Duo rolled over, facing away from Heero.

Heero's eyes softened in concern. He'd always wondered why such a bright, friendly young man would choose the dark, desolate path of curses, undead, poison, bone and golem. He would have been a wonderful paladin. He could picture him kneeling next to him at an altar, praying in his seemingly innocent and pure manner. Perhaps something...

"Duo, what happened?" Heero asked gently. Heero waited, not expecting an answer. Surprisingly, Duo began to speak in slow, halting tones.

"I was going to be a paladin, when I was a kid. Either that, or enter the priesthood. I was an orphan. M'parents were killed in the first wave of Diablo's reign of terror. I went to live at a monastery. The priest there was a nice guy. He took care of me, so did the head Sister. Everything was okay for a while. Father Maxwell, that was his name, was sure I'd make a good priest. I had a hard time believing, then, but for him I would walk to Hell and back. But it all changed when a bunch of devout idiots came to the monastery and were talking about Diablo and how he would take over everything. Father Maxwell tried to stop them... they murdered him. They tore him to pieces right in front of me. There was nothing I could do! I tried, I really did!"

Duo's voice rose, words coming out as frantic sobs.

"They tore apart Sister Helen too! And they turned on each other. There was so much blood... I still have nightmares sometimes. I ran... I found a school that would teach me power, teach me how to never feel helpless again." Duo sniffed heavily and wiped his face, Heero could imagine the tears streaking down Duo's face. Duo sighed heavily and continued. "I stopped believing in gods. I only know death. I have made death my domain. I will use everything in my power to strike fear into the hearts of evil. I will kill Diablo. I will end this corruption." Duo's voice was hard, but then dropped into a bare whisper that Heero had to strain to hear. "Then maybe I can learn to trust, or even love."

Heero reached out, hand nowhere near Duo's back. "I'll pray for you, my friend," he whispered.


Quatre removed his robes, folding them neatly and flopped down on his bed. "Oh my, I am ever tired." He turned over to watch Trowa strip his armor and set it in a corner. After Trowa finished removing his armor, he stood by the window.

His two ravens landed on his shoulders and began cleaning his hair. Quatre lay in silence, watching with interest. Ten minutes later, the ravens were finished. Trowa offered a finger to one of them. The raven hopped on. Trowa kissed his raven and flung it out the window. He repeated this with his other raven.

Quatre watched in awe. "Are they going to come back?" he asked, rolling onto his side.

"Yes, they are just going to feed." Trowa watched his ravens until they went out of sight. He sighed and turned to look at the petite blond on the other bed. "I wish I could do more magic than I can. I enjoy understanding the elements and nature, but sometimes I find it is not enough. I wish I could have more of an iron grip over the major elements like you do. I only know a small amount of elemental magic, compared to you."

"Oh this?" Quatre formed a small ball of fire in his hand, which he froze then made turn into a shimmering ball of electricity, its light casting eerie shadows through Quatre's fingers. "This is nothing, this is so... so... limited. You can control wind and fire, as well as call animals to your side. You have power. I have parlor tricks."

"Well your 'parlor tricks' eliminated a majority of those pesky sand maggots today. And those Hydra are very useful for looking around corners to see if there are enemies. You too have power." Trowa began sitting cross-legged.

Quatre smiled faintly. "True, true."

They were silent for a while. Trowa took a bath and Quatre read his spell book by the shimmering ball of hovering electricity he had created. As Quatre took his bath, Trowa looked out into the night and murmured his thanks to the animals that nature had lent him to help in his fight against the demons in this world. Quatre got out of the bath and saw Trowa in bed, eyes closed. Quatre went to bed himself.

He's so lucky... he is loved by those animals and is loved in return. No one loves me... Quatre's eyes began to burn. His thoughts regressed to memories of his home. He whimpered as he felt ghost blows from first his father, who had forbidden him from learning the arts in the first place, and later his teachers who had beaten him when he hadn't learned fast enough. Images of carnage, carnage that he had caused, flashed through his mind. He couldn't take it any more. He began to sob quietly.

Frozen by indecision, Trowa lay still until the sobs quieted and Quatre lapsed into uneasy sleep. Silently, Trowa walked to a corner of the room and waved his hands, summoning two spirit wolves. They greeted him lovingly.

*Go see Quatre,* Trowa told them silently. The wolves needed no further encouraging and they both silently jumped onto the bed, curling up on either side of the restless blond. Slowly, Quatre began to settle and a tiny smile even appeared on his face as he wrapped his arms around the warm, furry body.

Maybe one day you will tell me what it takes to make you cry... Trowa thought.



((Notice! The sap from the last two scenes was a direct result of my brother. He can't believe he wrote it.))

To Be Continued... *insert demonic laughter here*

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