Diablo II
Lut Gholein
The Aranoch
Zara hunched forward against the roaring wind that
blasted the sands and shifted the dunes like waves within a sea of gold. The
rogue vainly clutched a tattered cloak to her body, the hood drawn up to
protect her face and eyes from the searing sands that filled the hot desert
air. The sand storm had lasted for days, a never-ending thunder of wind
and grit. Zara marched through the torrent without pausing, the storm had
no effect upon her, the heat did not crisp her flesh, the yearning for water
did not plague her dry lips. Zara no longer had the weaknesses of
mortals, she was no longer mortal herself, she was a vessel, a host for the
demon lord Diablo.
Zara did not need to touch the Soulstone embedded
in her forehead to know it was there, pulsing with an angry, red light. Diablo,
Lord of Terror, resided within the Soulstone, imprisoned there by the Horadrim
centuries before. Diablo slept lightly within the Soulstone now, allowing
Zara a measure of freedom as they traversed the desolate wastes of the Aranoch
Desert towards the city of Lut Gholein, where Diablo's brother, Baal, Lord of
Destruction, was imprisoned within his own Soulstone, bonded to the Horadrim
mage Tal Rasha.
The rogue woman walked without faltering, the sun
a blinding white orb overhead, obscured by the blanket of blowing sand that
filled the woman's vision. Zara looked down upon herself, she wore a
simple white tunic that hung to mid-thigh, worn sandals covered the soles of
her feet, bound to her calves with thin strips of leather. A heavy
leather belt, a man's belt, rested upon Zara's curvaceous hips, supporting a
long leather sheath wrapped with strips of human flesh. The Sword rested
within the sheath, like its master Diablo the weapon slept, until it was called
upon to drink human blood.
The merciless sun slowly began to descend to the
west. Zara tried not to remember what had transpired within those
mountains that lined the western horizon, the horrors she had been forced to
witness when Diablo had taken over her body and unleashed the foul powers at
his command. The rogue's monastery had run red with blood, she had shed
much of it, butchering her sisters, an obscene, wanton joy filling her breast
as she cut and hacked with the sword now resting on her hip, blood splattering
like honey across her demonic, ecstatic face.
Zara fought down the memories filling her straying
mind, she bit her lower lip when she realized that her pussy was wet underneath
her sweat-stained tunic. A low chuckle reverberated within Zara's mind,
Diablo was awakening with the coming of dusk, he felt her shame and arousal, it
amused and satiated him. To clear her mind of blood lust, Zara hastened her
steps, working her slim legs faster, dragging them through the clinging sand as
she walked east, to Lut Gholein.
***
*Stop here,* ordered Diablo when the
outline of Lut Gholein came into view.
Zara stood upon the summit of a wide dune, the
cool night air ruffling the hem of her cloak. The rogue woman lowered her
hood, long, sleek, red hair uncoiled and fluttered in the strong breeze.
Diablo's possession had changed Zara, her hair was now fiery and wild,
her eyes were pools of darkness illuminated by vertical slits of blood-red
light. The rogue woman's skin was smooth and dark brown, her fingernails
were obsidian razors. As Zara waited, her pussy began to itch as it
always did when Diablo was awake. She tugged up the hem of her tunic and
stroked her bare cunt, it was covered in a thick blanket of dark red pubic
hair, the bush was warm and silky as she buried her right index finger within
it, caressing her sensitive, moist sex.
*That feels good,* purred Diablo inside
Zara's skull, urging the woman's finger to stroke faster and harder.
Zara was grateful when a cloaked figure appeared
at the edge of her vision, walking directly towards the dune where she waited.
*We'll continue later,* promised Diablo,
lowering Zara's tunic and grasping the cold hilt of his sword.
The stranger crossed the desert plain and climbed
up the dune to Zara. Zara noticed that the stranger was a woman when she
crested the summit and drew back her cowl.
"Do you have it, woman?" demanded Diablo
sharply through Zara's mouth.
"Yes..Master," frowned the stranger,
leaning forward slightly to examine Zara until she recognized the Soulstone set
within the rogue's forehead.
*This is Fara, a paladin that my brother turned
with lustful dreams and promises of power,* supplied Diablo while he
outstretched Zara's arms and accepted the cloth-wrapped bundle from the cloaked
woman.
"It was not easy to retrieve these
items," said Fara, brushing dark brown hair away from her tanned face.
Zara noticed that Fara wore loose brown pantaloons and a white shirt left
open at the top to allow cool night air within.
"My brother, Baal, promised to reward you
when he is released," reminded Diablo, drawing the cloth-wrapped package
into the folds of Zara's cloak, sliding it into the pack strapped to her back.
"Can't you give me something now?" asked
Fara softly, her dark eyes sliding up and down Zara's lush body.
"Of course," agreed Diablo, realizing
the woman's interest.
Zara shuddered, she fought Diablo with every ounce
of willpower, but it was hopeless, she was completely within his thrall.
As Fara unbelted her pantaloons and allowed them
to drop to her ankles, Diablo made Zara kneel in front of the woman. Diablo
reached out with Zara's hands and slowly stroked Fara's bare thighs, the dark
brown woman sighed with pleasure. The demon lord raked Zara's nails across
Fara's creamy flesh, he caressed the skin of the woman's inner thighs, then
leaned forward, using Zara's tongue to lick Fara's raven-haired cunt.
Zara tried to ignore the taste of Fara's pussy upon her tongue, the
wetness that now moistened her soft lips. Diablo growled with lust inside
Zara's mind, he pushed the rogue's mouth deeper into Fara's cunt, used Zara's
tongue to probe deep into the moaning woman's vagina. Zara couldn't even
cry as she licked and sucked Fara's pussy, her lips quickly soaked with the
gasping woman's juices. Diablo roughly grasped Fara's naked ass and dug
Zara's nails into the firm, warm flesh. Fara moaned in bliss as Diablo
pierced her hot skin and scratched deep lines across her tight, shivering
buttocks. Zara could feel Fara's warm, sticky blood on her fingertips,
then her attention shifted to the oozing hole in front of her, her mouth
enfolding Fara's swollen clit to suck upon it sharply, driving the woman mad
with ecstasy.
*****
Brigit rested her back against the polished wood
of Warriv's wagon, squinting in the harsh sunlight. The desert was hotter
than anything the amazon had ever experienced, perspiration soaked through the
light white tunic she wore, the garment clung uncomfortably to her breasts and
belly. Brigit's pale skin flaked under the cruel, white sun, her flesh
was raw and red, it hurt every time she moved an arm or shifted a long leg.
Brigit grabbed the nearly empty water skin set between herself and the
wagon's driver, Warriv. She pulled free the cork plug and gulped down a
mouthful of tepid water.
"Easy, Brigit! Don't drink too
much!" warned Warriv, the reins to the two draft horses held lightly in
his hands.
"Sorry, Warriv," grinned Brigit
sheepishly. "I just feel like I'm going to wither up and blow
away."
"We should reach Lut Gholein by dusk,"
replied the merchant.
"If you don't mind my asking, why set up a
trade route across the Aranoch?" inquired Brigit curiously.
"Lut Gholein gets shipments of silk and spice
from across the Twin Seas. I bring wool and metal work, trade for the
silks and spices, then take them back west and make a good profit. I
usually trade with a merchant captain named Meshif, he has his own galley that
he sails from Lut Gholein to Kurast, the capital city of Kehjistan."
"I see."
Warriv and Brigit took turns napping and guiding
the laboring draft horses. Two more wagons made up the rest of the
caravan, laden with bolts of wool and an assortment of metal work ranging from
iron pots to finely crafted swords. Warriv stopped the caravan several
times to rest and water the animals. Eventually, when the far off western
mountains were haloed with auras of scarlet and rose pink, Warriv's caravan crested
a gentle rise and beheld the sprawling city of Lut Gholein.
Lut Gholein was an immense port city, resting on
the sandy shores of the Twin Seas. Most of the buildings were squat,
square, one-story dwellings white-washed to a brilliant sheen. A few
mansions of wealthy merchant princes rose above the common dwellings on small
hills, surrounded by golden-brown walls of sandstone, the mansions constructed
with graceful, domed roofs that glittered in the fading sunlight. The
palace of the city's ruler was the largest and most ornate. It preened
upon a tall hill near the beach, its ivory walls gleamed, its roof dome
appeared to be made of polished gold.
"It's..incredible," sighed Brigit after
she fully absorbed the vista of the city.
"Aye," nodded Warriv. With a flick
of the reins, the merchant urged his tired steeds forward. The wagons
lurched back into motion, descending a sandy slope towards the waiting city.
***
Brigit was surprised once again when Warriv's
caravan actually entered the wide, arched entrance within the guard wall that
surrounded Lut Gholein. Even though the cobbled streets were filled with
people, the city was remarkably clean, the air did not stink of refuse and
sweating bodies like most of the western cities. Warriv explained that the
ruler of Lut Gholein set heavy fines for littering and vandalism, Jerhyn wanted
his city to be a jewel of the desert. Cool sea breezes eliminated the
stench generated by hundreds of people living in close proximity. Brigit
could feel the wind blowing off the ocean even from the far western edge of the
city, it soothed her sun-burnt face and made her smile with relief.
Warriv guided the caravan through the crowded
streets of the market quarter and into the quieter boulevards of the living
quarter. The merchant turned left off the street into the wide, walled
courtyard of an inn simply called The Oasis. Two small, brown-skinned boys
rushed out of the stable to take charge of Warriv's horses. Warriv hopped
off of the wagon seat, rubbed his sore back, and handed each of the boys a few
silver coins to brush down, water, and feed the exhausted draft horses.
"I don't know about you but I need a tall mug
of ale," smiled Warriv.
"I need a long, hot bath," sighed
Brigit.
"There's a bath house a block further down
the street," pointed Warriv.
"I'll be back soon for that mug of ale,"
grinned Brigit, grabbing her belt from the wagon seat and dodging one of the
boys leading a horse to the stable on her way out of the courtyard.
Brigit found the bath house and entered the
shaded, cool foyer. An elderly woman with dark brown, weathered skin sat
behind a counter, neatly folding towels and arranging them into small piles.
"How much to use your bath, good woman?"
asked Brigit.
The old woman looked up from her work and stared
hard at the amazon.
"You're a foreigner, and a warrior,"
remarked the woman.
"That's right, I come from the Amazon
Islands," nodded Brigit.
"Amazons are reputed to be fierce and brave.
I have need of such a warrior."
"Why, good woman?"
"My name is Atma. I had a good husband
and son until the Radament killed them. The foul creature came from the
sewers, it invaded our home and slaughtered my family, only I survived, to my
shame and regret. The Radament has murdered many, but the city guards
cannot find the monster. An amazon could track the Radament, an amazon
could slay it. I have a little money saved, I would gladly give it to you
if you agree to find and kill the murderer of my family!"
Tears flowed freely down Atma's wrinkled cheeks.
Brigit brushed the tears away, her own face filled with sorrow.
"You need pay me nothing, I will hunt down
this Radament and kill it."
"Light bless you, warrior!" smiled Atma,
clutching Brigit's hands.
"How can I enter the sewers?"
"There is a grate within the street a few
blocks from here."
"I will begin my hunt in the morning, but
could I still trouble you for a bath?"
"Gladly! I will prepare the bath for
you myself!" smiled Atma, rising from her stool and guiding Brigit to one
of the waiting bath chambers.
***