Fan fiction:Chronicles of the Dark Library/Prologue
From Diablo Wiki
Chronicles Of The Dark Library is a fan fiction piece by Holyknight3000, originally posted in the Diabloii.net Fan Fiction Forum. This fan fiction began in the Fan Fiction watch as The Dark Library and began in 2010. This is the companion Fan fiction that goes along-side the news posts and began on February 20, 2011.
20 years ago...
From the Journal of Kristof Allen Williams
1264, 5th day of Kathon, Sext
I was very young back then. About 9 years old when I was riding in a caravan with my family. We were making our way to the rogue monastery that was recently freed from the demoness Andariel. Demons still roamed the countryside and we had guards protecting us as we trekked our way through the highlands of Khanduras.
I was riding in the front of a covered wagon with my father as he was driving the horses onward. Little did we know this drive would change my life forever.
A loud explosion is heard at the back end of the caravan with a huge flash of fire destroying the last wagon and all on board including my sister and Aunt. You could hear the loud mutterings of fallen imps as they rand forward along the caravan spooking horses as Fallen Shaman light the wagons on fire destroying them one by one. The Guards tried to fend them off but they were overwhelmed and slaughtered.
My father stopped our wagon and got out to try and fend some of them off but all I could remember then was a blast of fire that knocked me out of the wagon and hitting some of the rocks along side of the road.
When I came to nothing was left of the caravan but ash, the smell of burning flesh and myself. I could hear imps muttering gibberish to themselves as they looked as if they were searching for something. I tried to hide behind the large stone that I had hit my head on trying to avoid them so I could run for safety.
But the concussion I had received made it almost impossible for me to move very far. I managed to step on a piece of broken wood making a loud snapping sound catching the imps attention and they started coming towards my area to investigate.
Not even a few moments later the Imps find me and try to stab me with their crewed pointed sticks. When my vision became blurry I heard a faint whistle sound coming from the nearby woods. The next thing I see is a ball of magic that looked like a fireball wrapped in light and dark energies along with some red flames. The torrent of fury hit the imps instantly turning them to ash.
Soon after what looked like a small regiment of solders came to the burning caravan and went after the demons. First killing the shaman and then killing most of the imps as they tried to run away. As I set there by the rock in shock a man walks up to me covered in a shroud decorated in 3 colors with magic runes dancing along the edge of the hood.
The man was dressed in what I had thought at the time like a templar. A servant or paladin of the Zakarum. But I learned later he wasn’t. “Dear child are you all right?”, he asked as he kneeled down in front of me. “No sir; my entire family was in this caravan and I don’t know if anyone else survived.” A boy looking about my age walked up to the man. It was his son. “Father; there is no one else left alive.” The man stood back up and looked deep in thought. “I see; we need to take this boy to a safe place. I can think of no safer place than back at the order.”
The man looks at me and holds out his hand wanting to help me stand up. “My name is Harold Williams, I am the Que-hegan of a secret order of Khaliminites who follow the will of the fallen Que-hegan of the Zakarum; Khalim. We can take you to a safe place. A place you can call your home for as long as you like. What is your name child.” I look at him and take his hand and slowly stand up. While wobbling a little, and trying to dust off my clothes I could only recall my first name. “Kristof.”
Another solder came by and caught Harold’s attention. “Sir their bodies are so badly charred we must give them a dignified burial.” Harold nodded. “As we should. Go dig some graves over by the tree-line east of the road and we will give them one.”
After the funeral we set out for the order’s secret location deep in the mountains of Khanduras. A trail that led just below the tree-line to a cave of a very tall cliff-faced mountain they dubbed the Aegis.
(If only I knew then what I do now. I would change everything so that I would not experience the tragedy I would endure there…)
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