//------------------------------// // Chapter One - The Dark Cult // Story: Chronicles of Deckard Cain: Equestria // by ThePartyCannon //------------------------------// I, Deckard Cain, have come across the most peculiar sight recently. Outside of New Tristram I happened across a group of dark cultists. While at first glance they appeared to be nothing more than common rabble, a closer examination revealed to me the true nature of their evil. For some reason they were digging up the bodies of the recently deceased, most likely to be used in their rituals. If there was any- The scribbling of the quill stopped as a blast of cold air rushed into the tiny house. Several candles in the room were snuffed out by the wind, and the curtains fluttered. Parchment flapped in the breeze, and Deckard Cain reached his frail arms out to secure it in place. Turning to face the open door, Deckard Cain saw the petite silhouette of his niece, Leah. “Uncle, there you are!” the girl exclaimed upon seeing her elderly relative. “I was worried. We couldn’t find you anywhere in town.” Deckard nodded his head, ignoring the girl’s worriment. “Leah, you must look at these scrolls I found! Truly fascinating pieces of work; I found them hidden among slain cultist’s supplies. Perhaps they hold a secret pertaining to the Lords of Hell! What if they-“ “Please, Uncle, not another one of your stories. Come on, we have to get going.” Leah gently took Deckard by the arm and lifted him from his chair. He instinctively reached for his staff, and shifted his weight upon it. Walking under his own power now, the two exited his house into the dismal streets of New Tristram. Guards, villagers and merchants all wore the same face; despair. The rain hadn’t stopped for weeks, and had begun to take a toll on nearly everyone. Leah’s red tunic brought life to the depressing grey robes that most of the populace donned, including Deckard Cain himself. He trailed behind his niece, sloshing his cloth shoes through the muddy streets. His staff sank into the mud, creating a line through the slushy mess behind him. Leah was leading him to the edge of town. Deckard’s recent expedition outside of New Tristram had led him to discover a cave where numerous cultists had set up their dark rituals. He had the urge to study them more closely, and perhaps investigate them for any signs of the Lords of Hell; the foes that he sought tirelessly to defeat. However, in his old age his frail figure wouldn’t stand a chance against a bloodthirsty cultist, and he resorted to hiring an out-of-town mercenary to assist him. Deckard scratched at his thinning grey beard as they crossed a rackety wooden bridge leading outside of town. On the other side of the bridge stood a man, clad in dull grey armor. He faced towards the dark forests surrounding New Tristram, and grimaced at the low mountains on the horizon. Leah approached him from behind and tapped his shoulder. “Excuse me,” she politely said, “are you perchance the mercenary my uncle hired?” Behind her, Deckard waved his wrinkled hand at the armored man, who merely nodded in acknowledgement. “Aye, that would be me.” He held out a hand clad in a thick plate gauntlet, “My name is Dalton, Paladin of Caldeum. You must be Deckard Cain, the one from the letters. It is an utmost pleasure to meet you, dear sir.” Deckard’s hand was shaken violently by the paladin, and when he finally disconnected his handshake, it was completely numb. “Ah, yes. You know what you must do then, correct?” Deckard asked, his feeble voice wavering. “I do believe so, my good man. I’m fairly certain that-“ “Well, let me explain anyway. I’m sure it would be of help.” He interrupted, leaning against his staff as he cleared his scratchy throat. “There is a cave of cultists to the north of here. They are conducting rituals that may be involved with one of the Lords of Hell. I trust that you, a paladin, would know of the Lords of Hell.” The paladin nodded, afraid that he would be interrupted again if he vocalized his response. “Good. Well then, these-“ He brought a finger to his head and scratched at his bald scalp, “…Where was I?” “Uncle, you were explaining the cave.” Leah whispered to her uncle, her face blushing as the paladin looked at the bumbling old man. “Ah, yes! Thank you, Leah. These cultists must be stopped before they unleash any forces of Hell upon us. Leah and I shall accompany you in order to record the events that transpire. Are you ready?” “Aye. Lead the way!” the paladin answered, unsheathing a glorious steel sword from his back. It gave off a miniscule amount of golden light, and seemed to hum with holy energy. Leah led the duo down the dreary cobblestone path through the forest. On either side of them, dark trees rose into the sky from the ground, obscuring the moonlight. It gave some cover from the rain, but in return formed a grim layer of blue-ish fog that obscured their vision. Faint growls and howls were heard from deep within the trees, raising Leah’s and Dalton’s heart rate. Deckard Cain, who had become accustomed to the ever-present danger of the outside world from his years of travelling, remained stalwart, and moved forward with more courage than anyone else. As they trekked into the night, Deckard procured a large tome from inside of his satchel. Flipping it open to a random page, Deckard ran the end of his staff along the long lines of writing. The tip of his magical staff gave off enough light to read the scrawled handwriting of the elderly man, and he began to read the text aloud to Dalton, who had asked about the cultists just moments before. “From what I’ve learned, these cultists are a contingent group of the more infamous cultists of ‘The Coven’. Whereas the Coven in this area primarily focused on Belial, the Lord of Lies, these new cultists don’t seem to have a particular Lord they worship. This fact alone is enough to bring fear to my heart; they could be serving any of the remaining Lords of Hell.” He explained as he continued to walk down the humid path. “I see. And you wish to learn more of these mysterious cultists?” Dalton inquired. “Precisely! No one ever concerns themselves over these threats. It is apparent that the End Days are fast approaching, and the presence of these cultists does nothing more than assure that fact further!” in front of him, Leah rolled her eyes as she listened to the old man’s rambling. She never really believed her uncle’s stories about the End Days, and it sort of embarrassed her when he talked about it to complete strangers. But the paladin was thoroughly intrigued. “If these cultists truly were servants of the Lords of Hell, and they actually are bringing about the End Days, what do you intend to do about it?” Deckard Cain raised a finger and intended to answer, but was interrupted by Leah, who had stopped in her tracks. Resting on the path before her was a malicious beast with a multitude of spikes covering its back. It raised its horrific head into the air and gave a ghastly shriek, chilling the bones of Leah and Dalton. Cain stepped closer, holding his staff towards the beast. “A quill fiend!” he exclaimed almost excitedly, “And a fully mature one at that.” It raised onto its hind legs and reeled back, preparing to fire a volley of poisonous spines at the travelers. Dalton, raising an aura of light around him, charged at the monster, letting loose a vigorous battle cry. The beast cowered backwards momentarily, before regaining its courage and charging the paladin. The two met head-on on the cobblestone path, colliding in steel and blood. Of course, the feeble quill fiend was no match for the paladin, and was soon at the mercy of the human. It lay battered and broken on the path, creating a large pool of green blood. The paladin drove his sword through the beast’s heart, and it gave one last whimper before going limp and silent. Leah raised her hands to her mouth at the sight as the paladin withdrew his sword and wiped it clean on the damp grass. He carefully tumbled the hefty body off the path and laid it among the underbrush to the side of the road. “Magnificent!” Deckard said through the silence, “Now, let’s be off. The cave isn’t much farther. Dark magic swirled through the craggy surfaces of the cave’s walls. All along the floor were large glowing runes, created through the foul sorcery of the cultists, who walked to and fro in the cave. They prepared themselves for the summoning ritual they were about to undergo; one that would bring forth a greater demon to destroy New Tristram. Hanging atop the wall above the cultists was a grotesque altar composed of the gutted remains of local game. Below it, a tall hooded figure stood, whispering words of sorcery in dark tongues. An acolyte approached him, offering a jagged blade. It was sharp to the touch, and seemed to have an aura of shadows around it. The taller cultist snatched it away with spite towards the acolyte, who cowered away from his superior. Stepping away from the bloody altar, the tall man walked towards the summoning rune, holding the knife high above his head. “Bring forth the bodies!” he shouted vilely to his servants. They produced a wagon of rotting and skeletal remains and proceeded to dump them into the middle of the circle. The scent of the decaying corpses filled the room in its awful aroma, but the cultists remained stalwart, creating a wide circle around them. Shadows and magic danced around the knife as the summoning commenced. The air hummed with energy, and a bright purple light shot into the mass of bodies. It swarmed over them, encircling them in evil witchcraft. Slowly, a ring of blood-red shadows rose from the edges of the circle as the cultists swayed and chanted around it. The tall man snickered at the sight; soon he would bring forth a powerful demon, capable of withstanding every guard in New Tristram. And it was only a matter of time before he claimed the town for his dark masters. “This looks like the place.” Leah said sullenly, gazing at the entrance of a wide cave. Dalton and Deckard stood behind her on either side, looking into the shadowy depths. The minute sound of chanting could be heard from within, and the faint static feeling of magic lingered in the air. “Then let us press on! Fear no darkness, friends!” he shouted, running headlong into the cave, sword at the ready. Leah and Deckard Cain followed closely behind him, looking around warily at their surroundings. Inside the cave the stench was nearly unbearable. The combined scent of a dozen rotten bodies filled everyone’s nostrils, and made Leah sick to her stomach. Cain wavered and nearly fell, but was caught just in time by Dalton. “This is surely the place.” He said as he lay in the paladin’s arms, attempting to stand again under his own power. Dalton transferred the elder to Leah and made his way further down the tunnels. Shadows faded and the stench intensified as they worked their way into the heart of the cavern. The tunnel opened into a particularly large room that reached high above their heads at least fifty feet. The walls appeared to be chiseled smooth, and several artificial passageways and alcoves were dug around the perimeter. Standing in the center of the massive space was the group of cultists. A dozen of them stood in a wide circle, swaying in unison. Upon seeing their numbers, Dalton shouted, “Prepare to meet the light, heathens!” They didn’t break the ritual, which had nearly completed. Before them stood a large column of shadows, nearly reaching to the ceiling. The bodies that had previously been in the circle had deteriorated into evil magic and aided the wall of shadows in summoning a demonic beast. Dalton worked fast to disrupt their ritual. He ran towards the closest cultist and brought his sword down. It connected with the cultist’s shoulder, and he fell to the ground in a bloody slump. “May the light take you mercifully!” he shouted as he moved to the next cultist. He struck down another cultist. And another. And a fourth. The cultists didn’t move as the paladin cut through their numbers, and soon only five of the initial twelve remained. But it was too late. “It has begun.” Deckard said breathlessly, watching the column of shadows expand outward. It spread at an incredible rate, covering Dalton and the remaining cultists in its shadow. From inside the obscuring smoke, the horrific sounds of a goliath beast roared. The ground trembled and shook, and a shape could barely be seen moving about in the dark magic. Dalton continued to work through the cultists, beginning to fear for his life as the giant demon thrashed about in the shadow magic. His field of vision was limited to only a few feet in front of him, and he blindly stumbled towards what he thought was another cultist. A shape appeared in front of him and he instinctively thrust his holy sword through the fog, striking the figure in the chest. Immediately the shadows faded, and Dalton could clearly see a tall hooded man at the edge of his blade. Blood leaked from his robes, and the knife he wielded fell to the ground in a clatter. It disintegrated into specks of magic as it impacted the ground, fading away into the air. Hot air rocked Dalton, and he slowly turned around to face the noise of breathing. Cain and Leah stood dumbfounded. Dalton stood miniscule against the creature that had materialized through the summoning. Its four gigantic fiery hooves stamped the ground, and its muscular back was covered in thick plates. It took the shape of an ox, but tapered off in the front into the body of a man. The man’s body was over ten feet tall and blood red. Wiry black hair sprouted from his chest and his herculean arms. The face, which closely resembled a man’s skull, was engulfed in fire, and huge tusks emerged from its mouth. Raising a large ball-and-chain weapon above its head, the beast let out a bellowing roar that rocked the cavern. As it whirled around, looking for a human to crush, its body seemed to fade in and out. It became translucent for a minute, then phased back into a solid form. Perhaps the summoning hadn’t completed fully, and it was stuck in the plane between the earthly realm and Hell. Or perhaps it was a natural occurrence for the demon, and acted as a defense mechanism against its enemies. Nevertheless, it didn’t slow the demon and it soon spotted Dalton. The paladin was no match for the demon, and only had time to utter a small prayer before the creature’s colossal metal instrument crushed him. Leah gasped in horror and Cain turned his head away from the sight. The demon seemed to mock the human’s feebleness and soon turned towards the remaining duo of humans. Taking Cain by his thin arm, Leah harshly pulled him out of the summoning room and through the winding tunnels of the cavern, screaming incoherently as she went. Deckard stumbled and attempted to keep up, continually looking behind him and hearing the bawling cries of the murderous beast. The cool air of the night brought sweet relief to the pair as they exited the cave, and as they gasped for breath, Deckard spoke up. “A demon! They summoned a greater demon! But for what purpose?” he inquired through shrieking breaths for air. “Uncle, there are far more important things to worry about right now! We have to warn New Tristram!” Leah protested, trying to drag Cain further down the road. But he remained where he was, surprisingly strong in his resistance. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a quill and parchment. Hastily, he scrawled a few lines on it, reading aloud as he did so. “Just as I had predicted, the previously mentioned cultists had summoned forth a servant of the Lords of Hell. As of now, the beast remains unknown to my knowledge, and-“ Leah got behind Deckard and pushed him down the cobblestone path, managing to move him several feet before the old man stopped his writing. “Leah! Why are you in such a rush? The demon is trapped in the cave; there’s no way out. He’s far too-“ Bright light forced the two to shield their eyes as the air ignited in front of them. A circle of fire formed in the air, perpendicular with the grassy ground. As it levitated and burned in the air, the beast’s cries could be heard as loudly as before. Leah fell to the ground, hiding behind her uncle as the demon’s tusked head protruded from the fiery portal. It galloped out, leaving a trail of fire in its thunderous hoof-prints. It flexed its muscular arms as it trotted in circles around the duo, cutting off their escape in a ring of fire. Its shifting between realms had intensified and became so consistent that Cain came to the conclusion that it wasn’t technically in their world at all. Leah reached to her side and pulled out a small dagger. It was a dainty weapon, and would provide no protection against the hulking monstrosity, but she felt safer and braver with it unsheathed. The beast seemed to laugh at Leah’s attempt of security, and charged towards her. She turned her head away and tears fell from her eyes as she felt the deafening tremors of the demon’s hooves quickly approaching her. She peered through one eye at her uncle, who stood with his staff held towards the demon. Enveloping itself in a growing blue light, Deckard’s staff glowed with an intensity that rivaled that of the demon’s fiery gaze. He pointed it straight at the charging demon, and let loose a volley of arcane magic. Streaming towards the demon in gracious arcs, they lit the night sky in a smooth blue light, contrasting with the orange blaze of the demonic flames. A hollow ‘whump’ sounded through the air as the magic missiles impacted the demon’s bright red skin in the middle of his chest. It faltered, and changed course at the last second, leaving Leah mostly unscathed. As the beast turned around, it shifted almost completely out of existence. Deckard knew that if he could just hold it off for just a moment longer it would be sent back to the realms of Hell where it belonged. But his Horadric magic was dwindling, and he wasn’t sure if he could make another attack that would be strong enough to rout the demon. He took a deep breath as the beast charged again, this time straight for him. The end of his staff gave off faint sparks, but no missiles. Violently shoving Leah out of the way, Cain stood right in the path of the demon, which had begun to glow with a faint purple aura as he shifted planes for a final time. The large metal ball-and-chain descended towards Deckard, who flinched away from the incoming impact. It was just a few feet from him when it was violently sucked backwards in a torrent of wind. He looked up through weary eyes to see the muscular hulk of the demon being pulled backwards into a glowing purple portal. It scraped its sharp nails along the ground, creating large gashes in the stone path. It howled with bestial vigor as the portal devoured it in an endless tide of magic. Tendrils of shadow snaked their way out of the portal and wrapped themselves around the demon’s shoulders and neck, forcing the monster into the gateway with terrifying brutality. The intensity of the portal had created a vortex of shrieking wind, which tore at the ends of Deckard’s robe. Loose parchment flew from his open satchel and violently raced through the portal. After the screams of the demon died down and it had been completely torn through the gateway to the nether, Deckard Cain looked up. The portal remained open and maintained the shrieking vortex. Loose stones and branches were sucked into its gaping maw, which shone with a brighter magic than ever before. Deckard’s frail body wavered at the force of the wind, and his feet slid along the ground a few feet. To his side he could hear the worried cries of his niece, but never saw her shape through the debris that flew past him. When Cain slid a few more feet, the portal began to dwindle. However, do to the concentration of magic, the vortex only increased. Cain could hear the cracking of wooden bark, and heard some of the smaller trees beginning to uproot themselves. He could hold his position no longer, and let his legs go limp, tumbling painlessly towards the portal among the multitude of debris. “Uncle!” Leah shouted from the safety of the forest as she watched her feeble uncle being swept up by the powerful winds. His body disappeared through the swirling jaws of the portal, and as he did so it collapsed in upon itself. Massive shockwaves rocked the land, swaying the trees and completely destroying some of the smaller ones. Leah could hear the nearby cave starting to collapse as she began to sob violently. She pounded her fists against the soft grass, crying continually, “Uncle… Uncle… Uncle…” Deckard survived tumbling through the portal, unsurprisingly. Portals were generally harmless creations. But despite their outstanding safety records, he still loathed portal travel. It always made his head hurt having to move from one spot to a completely different spot, sometimes miles away, in a matter of a few seconds. As the world formed around him, his head hurt like never before. That’s quite a distance then… Deckard though to himself as his vision began to return to normal. The portal must have sent him thousands of miles, if not more, in order to make his head ache with such intensity. He closed his eyes, attempting to soothe the pain in his head, but to no avail. The ache continued without mercy. Rubbing his temples, Deckard tried to roll over. The dry grass beneath him crunched, both from his movements and of something else. The elderly man ceased the rubbing and slowly opened his eyes. The harsh light of the morning did nothing to help his headache as he stared into the sky above him. He could hear the footfalls of someone coming towards him, and as the figure approached closer, Deckard addressed it, “Thank goodness I’ve been found!” he exclaimed, “I come from-“ “HO-GEEZ! IT TALKS!” the figured shouted. Deckard’s heart raced as he craned his neck towards the newcomer. It cowered in the grass before him, kneeling as low to the ground as possible. The stetson hat that rest atop his head was askew and his brown hair was a mess. Sheepishly, the golden equine raised his head from out of the grass and stared at Deckard with eyes the size of dinner plates, before falling backwards and landing in the grass unconscious. Within seconds, Deckard Cain did the same.