Warcraft: Orcs and Humans - Garona’s Journal


The Destiny of the Orcish Hordes


The history and legends concerning the invasion and domination of the Human Lands scribed by Garona of the Shadow Council

The stories of battle and victory have always been told, and in the past, it was up to the leaders of each assault to document the past.  While fine leaders in war, these chieftains lacked the ability to convey those actions with written words.  I present as an example:

“Thok go through shiny hole.  Then me fall down, but me good.  Me find many good things to eat.  We find village.  We mash them and eat their food.  Thok stop now.  Head hurt from write.”

The fact that I am of both Orc and Human lineage, combined with the skills and schooling I have acquired from my journeys, has elevated me to the position I now hold.  As chief interpreter of the Shadow Council, the duty of preserving the accounts of our conquering of this world and eventual crusade into the land of Humanity, has fallen now upon my shoulders.  I, Garona, now humbly present that history.

Our destiny concerning the domination over these lands has been foretold by the clan mystics for hundreds of years.  Having risen from the mire of swamps and marshes, the Orcish hordes have swept across this domain in the fulfillment of that destiny.  Many ages passed as our influence slowly spread, causing pain and darkness to follow in our wake. Be they in lush plains, hidden in thick forests, or at the rocky crags overlooking the seaside our armies rilled over what pathetic resistance our enemies could muster.

Their crops died on the stalk and their fields lay fallow, for we left none alive to tend them.  Using the arcane powers of our Warlocks and Necromancers, not even the mightiest of our foes could long stand against our increasing onslaught.  One by one our enemies fell, and we became stronger with each victory.  In time, by subjugating all who would oppose our rise to power, and enslaving these weaker races to use as we pleased, we conquered both nature and creatures to finally rise to the pinnacle of this world.

Still we craved more, and decades of constant bickering between clans served to divide our race amongst itself.  Soon factions arose, each seeking to control the Orcish domain for themselves.  These petty arguments turned to armed conflict, and then to war as the need for conquest burned hot in our blood.  If no lands existed that were ruled by enemies, then we would take the lands of our brethren.

The only clan to ignore these plays for power were the Warlocks.  Secluded in their towers, they saw the danger that was present.  Although it pleased the Necromancers that these battles fed the earth and underworld with rivers of blood, the Warlocks feared that no Orc would be left alive.  This would serve to upset the delicate balance that allowed them to control the powers that they held in check and called upon to work their magiks.  If this balance were to be maintained, the Orcish hordes would need to be supplied with new battles against a common foe.

It was during a period of research that the small tear in the dimensional fabric was noticed.  Many years passed as the Warlocks sought to unlock the mysteries of this tiny rift.  The undertaking of numerous trials and tests led to the conclusion that this phenomenon could serve as a portal to another dominion, if it could be controlled.  The Orcish Warlocks began experimentation towards focusing the rift, gradually making it larger and more stable.  Eventually, they were able to create a small portal, just large enough for one of their clan to pass through.

The stories that this subject returned with almost convinced his colleagues that the experience had left him insane, but strange, unknown plants he held served as sure evidence of his claims.  This allowed the sect to approach the strongest leaders of the splintered Orc clans and request that they cease their war for one year.  At the end of that time, they promised the chance to accomplish the taking of a new world.

Controlling the rift proved to be easier as it grew larger, and within the passing of three moons, it stood ready to send a small detachment of troops to this new world.  A blue circle of energy, roughly two and one half Orcs in width, was the sight that greeted the Orcish clan chiefs.  Streaks of black and red raced across it as it crackled with otherworldly fires.  Seven warriors were to enter the portal and return with a report detailing the type of lands and creatures that were to be found on the other side.  As the Warlocks began their incantations to acces the power of the rift, a howl began – low at first, then rising in pitch like a darkwolf baying during the bloodmoon.  When the sound grew near to deafening, the warriors were motioned into the circle, now alive with a thousand colors intertwined and clashing in some cosmic dance.  What awaited these seven was beyond even their wildest imagining.

The sack of the village was a simple matter, hardly worth the telling.  Yet hundreds of times the tale was recounted, and a hundred more would be expected and relished.  A group of strange, sharp edged buildings was the first sign of any true opposition they encountered.  A rough dirt path lead into a trio of farms.  The gray of dawn was lightening as the sun of this world rose over the hilltops.  It was a bright, yellow orb that shone twice as brightly as our own, and made the days exceedingly hot.  Then out of the odd little hut came what must have been a member of this lands true race.  Small, pink and spare of muscle were these creatures.  The warriors grinned wickedly at each other, knowing that if this represented the breed of stock they would need to pen in order to take this world, victory was but a matter of moments.

Rushing out of their hiding place, they swarmed upon the village and slew every living thing they could find.  The males offered some small resistance, but the females and children were like taking grok to the slaughter.  Their homes held few values, but their field were full of a tasty grain.  Their livestock, as little as there was, also proved excellent, and what they could not eat or pack was set to the torch. The trinket brought back from this place were of a craftsmanship unknown to the Orcs, and were quickly taken by the leaders of the clans for their own treasure hordes.  This new world, heavy with vast expanses and soft, weak protectors would prove a rich jewel to add the crown of the Orcs.

Our order of ascension is a simple one – only the strongest survive.  All matters of politics or dispute are settled in open debate.  This can lead to hostilities in many cases, but it is the fastest and simplest way to come to a conclusion on most matters.  Each Orc has the right to make heard his arguments, as long as he can back them up with fact – or steel.  To gain the upper hand is a sign of strength, and strength is counted highly among the hordes.  A decisive victory in battle raises the commander and his warriors to a place of honor and control.  This hold is tenuous, however, for the higher one climbs, the farther – and more deadly – the fall.

By this time, we had learned much of this new domain, and those who dwelled here.  While difficult to understand in many ways, they proved similar enough to us in many ways.  A sharp blow to the head resulted in death.  Lack of food led to starvation.  Pain also affected them in the same way it had all of our enemies, and proved to be an effective means of extracting information.

To learn that the name of this place was Azeroth, and the inhabitants here were called Humans, was among the first bits of information we gathered.  We began the taking of Azeroth by moving out cautiously, and learning what we could, but all too soon rash judgement prevailed as the taste of greed tainted the palettes of the Orcish clan chiefs.  After many arguments ensued, it was decreed that an assault upon the tall castle in the north would serve to crush our enemies and place the Orcs upon the throne of power.  More and more warriors were brought through the rift, and with them seemed to come the essence of our world.  The Warlocks claimed it was some effect of the portal, but the lands about our entryway soon became as desolate as those of our home.

Entry into the castle was a simple matter, for the prosperity that had made this land so attractive to us had also bred weakness in the Humans.  Their guards were unprepared as our forces poured through the gates and over the walls of their stronghold.  Their males did well to stop us for as long as they did, but our numbers and strength soon tilted the battle in our favor.  Victory would have been assured,  but for the arrival of their great, mounted soldiers. These fiends rode atop beasts of muscle and sinew that crashed through our ranks and dealt as much damage to our troops as did their riders.  These knights, as we have come to know them, rallied what few soldiers remained, and began driving us out of the castle.  Our every turn was countered as we were forced to retreat towards the gateway back to our world.  some trick of magic had them always at our back, sides, and in our path.  We barely reached the edges of the swamplands that now surrounded the portal and eluded our pursuers in its murky depths.

It has been some fifteen years since this costly decision altered the course of our destiny.  Many called for the closing of the gate, while other factions fought for another attack upon the humans with all of our forces.  Out of this chaos arose a single Orc with a cunning and guile that few others possessed.  Careful manipulations and the use of what support he could muster made his voice ever stronger as time passed.  After key opponents were dealt with, few could offer any opposition to his plans, and the rule of the great Orc Warchief Blackhand was upon our people.

His cruelty and dominance in battle is only overshadowed by his lust for power.  He has studied the means with which Human armies are able to defeat overpowering numbers of Orcs through strategy and guile.  From these tactics he has learned to bring organization to the scattered attacks of our raiding parties.  He sought assistance from both houses of the arcane arts, searching for other weapons to add to his arsenal.  The culmination of these plans will involve the uniting of all the Orcish clans – Armies, Warlocks, and Necromancers alike – to bring about the eventual destruction of the Human race.  The Age of Chaos is now at hand.

Warcraft: Orcs and Humans – Cheat Codes

The following are cheat codes for Warcraft: Orcs and Humans.  The cheat codes are only useable in Single Player mode.  In order to enter a cheat code, you must first press enter to open the chat prompter, then type the following text:  Corwin of Amber then press Enter button on your keyboard.  From now on you can type any of the cheat codes mentioned below and they will become active.  You will see a text message confirming that the cheat code is now active.  You will see the following text onscreen:  (Cheat Code Enabled You Wascally Wabbit)

Enable Cheats
corwin of amber

   
Full Map
sally shears

   
Gives you 10,000 gold and 5,000 Lumber
pot of gold

Build Faster
hurry up guys

All Casting Spells
eye of newt

Upgrade Technology
iron forge

   
God Mode
there can be only one

Skip and Load to an Orc Level (change the 1 to any number from 1-12)
type: corwin of amber
press the enter key
type: orc1

Skip and Load to a Human Level (change the 1 to any number from 1-12)
type: corwin of amber
press enter
type: human1

   
Victory Screen
yours truly

Lose Screen
crushing defeat

   
Final Campaign Sequence
ides of march


 

Warcraft Orcs and Humans – Human Campaigns

Human Campaigns  |  Orc Campaigns

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-intro

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-rebuilding Chapter 1: Rebuilding

As a test of your abilities, the King has appointed you as Regent over a small parcel of land. Since we must keep our armies in the field well supplied, you are to build the town into a farming center of no less than 6 farms. Construction of a barracks for defense is also adviced, as our scouts have reported Orcish patrols in the area.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-map-2-grand-hamlet Chapter 2: Grand Hamlet

The Orcs around Grand Hamlet are becoming increasingly brazen in their attracks, and our spies inform us that they are amassing a large army to march against the town. The King is sending you, along with a small detachment of troops, to rally the people and defend the town against all opposition.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-map-3-swamps-of-sorrow Chapter 3: Swamps of Sorrow

With Blackhand’s raiding parties routed, now is the time for us to secure a lasting peace in the area around Grand Hamlet. You must seek out the Orcish outpost of Kyross that lies deep within the Swamps of Sorrow, and destroy it.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-map-4-dead-mines Chapter 4: Dead Mines

It has been some twenty months since Sir Lothar, one of the crown’s greatest heroes, led an expedition into the Dead Mines to search for the Lost Tome of Divinity. They were never heard from again. However, the great knight has recently appeared to the Abbot of Northshire in a vision– battered and pleading for assistance. King Llane has ordered you to lead a detachment of warriors and healers into the mines in an attempt to find Sir Lothar, heal him, and bring him and any other survivors back alive.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-map-5-elwynn-forest Chapter 5: Elwynn Forest

The Forest of Elwynn is a strategic key to securing the Borderlands. An outpost near the southeast edge of the forest will serve as your stronghold. The King has assigned one of his knights to aid you, so that your task of ridding the area of Blackhand’s dark minions may be more readily completed.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-map-6-northshire-abbey Chapter 6: Northshire Abbey

The monks of Northshire Abbey are under siege by a band of Human warriors that have been convinced by enemy agents to fight against the crown. You will be given a complement of knights to lead to the Abbey, which is already under attack. Ride hard and fast, as you must prevent its destruction. When you have secured the Abbey and beaten back these treacherous curs, you must then move to destroy the enemy at their source.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-map-7-sunnyglade Chapter 7: Sunnyglade

A raiding party has completely overrun the village of Sunnyglade. Our scouts report that the survivors have been taken to a hidden Orcish compound to serve as slaves.. You must take a detachment of warriors and rescue the group of peasants that are imprisoned somewhere in the Orc camp. Our intelligence confirms that all of the prisoners are together, and that you must destroy the enclosure to open a path for their escape. The rebuilding of Sunnyglade is also of the utmost importance, as you will need their assistance in destroying the Orcish slayers.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-map-8-kill-medivh Chapter 8: Kill Medivh

A new crisis has arisen that threatens to end the lives of all who would serve the King. The evil warlock Medivh has begun draining the soul of the land itself to increase his dark powers. You must take a party into his tower and destroy him before he summons enough energies to devastate all who would oppose him. Beware his mastery of the black arts, for legend speaks of his ability to command the daemons of Hell.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-map-9-black-morass Chapter 9: Swamps of Sorrow

The time has come to take the battle into Blackhand’s own domain. King Llane has ordered a full assault upon the Orcs, demanding that this plague that spreads across the kingdom be eradicated. To the east of the Borderlands lies the Black Morass where the Orcish hordes make their encampments,. You are to lead an army into this foul region and destroy every trace of their dark presence.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-map-10-temple-of-the-damned Chapter 10: Temple of the Damned

Runners have arrived and informed you of grave news. King Llane lies dead this day, assassinated by the treacherous Garona, at Stormwind Keep. His last command was that you should assume the mantle of War Leader, and end this battle that has drained the land of its resources, and now its king. Scouts report that deep within the Black Morass lies one of Blackhand’s darkest seats of power—- the Temple of the Damned. No peasants dare approach the vile temple, and only the bravest of your soldiers have agreed to accompany you on this mission. You must strike boldly and without err, for there will be no reinforcements.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-map-11-stonard-and-rockard Chapter 11: Rockard and Stonard

Here beats the diseased and malevolent heart of Blackhand’s plagued lands. The sister towns of Rockard and Stonard are all that stand between the forces of the kingdom and Blackhand’s stronghold—Black Rock Spire. After conferring with your warchiefs, the path to victory lays clear. You must destroy Rockard and Stonard, thereby cutting off all lines of the support and supplies, so that the final offensive can be made upon Black Rock Spire.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-map-12-blackrock-spire Chapter 12: Black Rock Spire

Black Rock Spire stands before us! The skies above the reeking swamp fill with the gathering thunderheads that spell doom for the loser in their final confrontation. Tension hands like a heavy cloak on your shoulders as your troops prepare for the battle ahead. Above the din and chaos that swirls about the battlefield stands the Castle of Blackhand, its gaze sweeping down upon the battlefield where the destiny of the land will be decided. Destroy the stronghold and those who would seek to defend it, and Azeroth will be freed from Blackhand’s poisoned grip forever!

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-map-finale The fall of Black Rock Spire spelled final victory for the forces of Azeroth. With Blackhand slain and their stronghold destroyed, the few scattered Orcs that remained were quick to bow before your might. A celebration ensued that lasted for many days and nights, with music and joyous festivities resounding throughout the land. The people of the kingdom have come from miles around to gather at Stormwind Keep, and are delighted by a display of mystic sights and sounds provided by the Court Conjurers while being treated to a Feast of unequaled splendor. Amidst this celebration, your ascension to the throne is acknowledged by your new subjects, and you are given the honorarium Defender of the Crown. As the evening’s celebration continues into the early hours of the morning you retire to the sanctity of your throne room.
warcraft-orcs-and-humans-human-campaign-map-end The duty of ruling Azeroth is an awesome responsibility, and should prove to be your greatest challenge yet. Learning the intricacies of court politics alone will be like sailing in uncarted waters. King Llane was renowned for ruling with a fair and just hand, and you resolve to be as proficient as he was. There is also the matter of discovering the exact location where the Orcish hordes entered into this world, and divining a way to end the threat of another invasion forever—but that is a story for another time.

Warcraft Orcs and Humans – Orc Campaigns

Human Campaigns  |  Orc Campaigns

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-1

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-map-1 Chapter 1: Swamps of Sorrow

Blackhand has assigned you to an outpost in the Swamps of Sorrow. Your task is simple enough that even the Warchief feels that you are capable of it. Construct at least 6 farms, so that we may keep our troops well fed and ready to do battle. Only a fool would leave his treasures unguarded, so you must also build a barracks for the defense of these farms.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-map-2-borderland-swamp-of-sorrows Chapter 2: Borderlands of the Swamps of Sorrow

Like the stinging of a wasp, the attacks from the humans grow more and more bothersome. You have been assigned to a small outpost on the Borderlands of the Swamps of Sorrow. You are to defend our lands from the incursions of these ravenous dogs by crushing any opposition that you encounter.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-map-3-grand-hamlet Chapter 3: Grand Hamlet

The Humans are growing strong in Grand Hamlet. An outpost will be placed under your dictatorship, to use as you see fit. You must then prepare and lead a force to destroy Grand Hamlet and all that dwell there. Blackhand will brook no survivors, these Humans must be taught a hard lesson in the ways of humility.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-map-4-deadmines Chapter 4: Dead Mines

You are wakened from your nights sleep by a runner from the Warchief. Blackhand’s daughter Griselda has run off with the outlaw Turok’s band of Ogres. Our Wolfriders have tracked them to the dungeons hidden beneath the Dead Mines. Find Turok’s band of rebellious pigs and kill them all — including Griselda. She must not disobey the commands of her father ever again.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-map-5-redridge-mountains Chapter 5: Redridge Mountains

On your return from the dungeon, you receive word from advance scouts that the recently established outpost near the Red Ridge Mountains is under siege. A group of Raiders have been dispatched to assist you in in taking back the outpost and crushing the Human opposition. Your secondary objective is to seek out and completely destroy their encampment. Putting an end to this threat for good.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-map-6-sunnyglade Chapter 6: Sunnyglade Tower

The Humans of Sunnyglade have become fat and lazy with their prosperity. The town is like a ripe plum waiting to be plucked. You will march upon their weak Human armies and smash them to pieces. Somewhere in the town is a tower that you must. keep intact so that we may study how their magiks are created. Fail me, and I will have your head on a pike at the gates of Black Rock Spire.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-map-7-blackrock-spire Chapter 7: Black Rock Spire

The time has come for you to seize control of the Orchish hordes for yourself. Blackhand has become foolish in the deployment of his personal troops, and has left an opening that you can now exploit. A key outpost in the Black Morass is the core of Blackhand’s supplies lines, not only to his foremost battle groups, but to his caste at Black Rock Spire, as well. The Complete destruction of this outpost will disrupt his power base long enough for you to secure his overthrow.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-map-8-northshire-abbey Chapter 8: Northshire Abbey

The destruction of Blackhand’s outpost has left him in a weak position. The Shadow Council, sensing your rise in power, orders the assassination of Blackhand and elevates you to the position of Warchief. A Wolfrider brings you news that our best spy, the half-orc Garona, has been discovered by the Humans of Northshire Abbey and imprisoned there. She has valuable information concerning new and powerful magiks that would aid you in the destruction of your counterpart, King Llane. Trusting no one to complete this vital mission in time, you must find her, and then completely destroy the Abbey to protect her secrets.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-map-9-southern-elwynn-forest Chapter 9: Southern Elwynn Forest

With your new found magiks, the time is ripe to burn the Human occupation from our lands. There are two Human outposts to the south that pose the greatest threat to our security. Reports from scouts near these towns show that the key to your success in this confrontation is to hold back the Human forces at their bridges while we strengthen your attack force. The glories of combat will be yours as you personally lead the armies that will reclaim your homelands.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-map-10-darkshire Chapter 10: Darkshire

You have tasted victory, and the craving for more is upon you. It is clear that one decisive blow to the Humans will make the total and complete domination of this race a simple matter. Your spies have gathered intelligence that points to an encampment near the center of the Human lands where their knights and soldiers are sent to train. Although they will not be expecting an attack, they should prove a good fight. The destruction of this site would greatly weaken their forces, and etch your position as Warchief in stone. None shall survive!

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-map-11-goldshire-and-moonbrook Chapter 11: Goldshire and Moonbrook

The final march to King Llane’s home, Stormwind Keep, is at hand. Only two pathetic settlements stand in the way of the awesome, juggernaut; your cruel leadership, has created. The humans have proved to be amusing opposition., but the hour of doom has come for them. The complete and utter demolition of the twin cities Goldshire and Moonbrook will sever the lifeline between the King and his people, making him a figurehead waiting to be lopped off.

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-map-12-stormwind-keep Chapter 12: Stormwind Keep

Stormwind Keep is our to take! The Orcish hordes gather like buzzards to carrion, as the moment of destiny is close at hand. A low growl fills the air as your wolfriders whip their savage mounts into a frenzy. The earth shakes as catapults are loaded and moved into position. The fires of the burning rubble about you dance in your eyes as you gaze upon the pristine, white towers of Castle Stormwind. White that will soon be washed with the red of King Llane’s blood. With his fall, all of Azeroth will be yours!

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-map-finale Finale

With the decimation of the human forces, the sacking of their castle was a simple matter. They offered little resistance once you ran their weak leader through with your war blade and toppled his body into the moat. The taking of Stormwind has kept your warriors in good spirits, and the offerings of gold and jewels that they bring to you are amble tribute to your leadership. Wine flows like blood, and the smell of freshly cooked meat fills you with satisfaction as you begin your victory feast. The countryside is ablaze with bonfires as groups of battle hardened Orcs celebrate the domination of this land with songs of war and victory. You have finally assumed your rightful place as ruler of this realm, as Warchief of the Orcish Clans

What new conquests will await you in this place? The Shadow Council has begun to bring you information concerning the lands across the great sea that are as yet untouched by Orchish rule. The Warlocks also seek the permission to resume their experiments with the portal, their intent being the subjugation of other worlds. With the power you now possess your choices are limitless, but these are choices for another time …

warcraft-orcs-and-humans-orc-campaign-map-end

Diablo I Lore: The Great Conflict

Librarius Ex Horadrim
BOOK ONE OF HEAVEN AND HELL THE GREAT CONFLICT

Since the Beginning, the forces of Light and Darkness have engaged in an eternal war: The Great Conflict, whose victor will rise from the apocalyptic ashes to hold sway over all creation. To this end, the Angels of the High Heavens adhere to strict militaristic disciplines. Seraphim warriors strike at the enemies of Light with swords imbued with righteous wrath and justice. The Angels believe that only absolute discipline can properly restore order to the myriad realms, while the demonic denizens of the Burning Hells hold that absolute chaos is the true nature of all things.

The battles of the Great Conflict rage across both time and space, often infringing upon the very fabric of reality itself. From the Crystal Arch at the very heart of the High Heavens to the arcane Hellforge of the Underworld, the warriors of these eternal realms journey to wherever their timeless conflict carries them. The legendary deeds of the heroes of the realms beyond elicit both veneration and insight.

The greatest of these heroes was Izual, lieutenant to the Arch-Angel Tyrael and bearer of the Angelic Runeblade Azurewrath. He once led a fierce attack upon the Hellforge as the creation of the dark demonblade Shadowfang was nearing completion. His quest was to destroy both wielder and weapon – a charge that he was destined never to complete. Izual was overcome by the legions of chaos and, tragically, was lost to the Darkness. His fate stands as testament to the fact that Angels and Demons alike shall fearlessly enter into any domain – so long as their hated enemies dwell within.

Although the Great Conflict burned hotter and longer than any of the stars in the sky, neither side could gain dominion over the other for long. Both factions sought some way to turn the tides of the war to their favor. With the ascension of Man and his mortal realm, the Great Conflict ground to a mysterious halt. Both armies paused in a breathless stalemate, waiting to see to whose side Man would eventually turn.  Mortals had the unique ability to choose between Darkness and Light, and it was held that this would be the deciding factor in the outcome of the Great Conflict. Thus, the agents of the nether-realms descended to the mortal realm to vie for the favor of Man?

izual-diablo-1


Librarius Ex Horadrim:

BOOK ONE : OF HEAVEN AND HELL BOOK TWO : THE RETURN OF TERROR
The Great Conflict The Lands of Khanduras
The Sin War The Awakening
The Dark Exile The Darkening of Tristam
The Binding of the Three The Fall of the Black King
The Reign of Diablo
THE NATURE OF THE SOULSTONES
By Jered Cain of the Horadrim

Diablo I Lore: The Sin War

The coming of the Great Conflict to the mortal realm is known as the Sin War. Angels and Demons, disguising themselves while traveling amongst men, attempted to secretly lure mortals to their respective causes. Over time, the forces of Darkness discovered that mortals responded much more to brute force than to subtle coercion, and so began to terrorize Man into submission. The Angels fought to defend humanity against this demonic oppression, but all too often their austere methods and severe punishments succeeded only in alienating those whom they sought to protect.

The violent battles of the Sin War occurred often, but they were seldom witnessed by the prying eyes of Man. Only a few “enlightened” souls were aware of the supernatural beings that walked amongst the huddled masses of humanity. Powerful mortals arose and accepted the challenge of the Sin War, allying themselves with both sides in the Great Conflict. The legendary deeds of these great mortal warriors served to earn both the respect and hatred of the netherworlds. Although lesser demons kneeled before those possessing power and strength, they also cursed the very existence of mortal man. Many of these fiends believed that the deadlock brought about by the emergence of Man was a perverse offense to their “higher” role in the great scheme of things.

This jealousy of Man led to harsh, atrocious acts of violence by the demons against the mortal realm. Some men learned of this deep hatred and used it against the denizens of the Underworld. One such mortal, Horazon the Summoner, delighted in summoning demons and then breaking them to his will. Horazon, along with his brother Bartuc ,were members of the Eastern mage clan known as the Vizjerei. This mystic clan studied the ways of demons and had catalogued their lore for generations.

Empowered by this knowledge, Horazon was able to take the work of the Vizjerei and pervert it for his demented purposes. The denizens of Hell sought revenge against this bold mortal, but Horazon managed to keep himself well protected within his arcane sanctuary. Bartuc, the brother of Horazon, was eventually lured to the side of Darkness. He was granted exceptional strength and longevity, and fought alongside the legions of Hell against the cursed Vizjerei, and eventually his own brother during the Sin War. Although Bartuc was renowned amongst the warriors of many realms, his dominance in battle came with a terrible price. An insatiable lust for mortal blood pervaded his every thought and deed. Bartuc soon became as fond of bathing in the blood of his enemies as he did of shedding it, and in time he came to be known only as the Warlord of Blood.

horadrim2

Copyright 1996 by Blizzard Entertainment

Diablo and Battle.net are trademarks or registered
trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc.


Librarius Ex Horadrim:

BOOK ONE : OF HEAVEN AND HELL BOOK TWO : THE RETURN OF TERROR
The Great Conflict The Lands of Khanduras
The Sin War The Awakening
The Dark Exile The Darkening of Tristam
The Binding of the Three The Fall of the Black King
The Reign of Diablo
THE NATURE OF THE SOULSTONES
By Jered Cain of the Horadrim

Diablo I Lore: The Dark Exile

Seven is the number of the powers of Hell, and Seven is the number of the Great Evils.

Duriel, the Lord of Pain

Andariel, the Maiden of Anguish

Belial, the Lord of Lies

Azmodan, the Lord of Sin

These are the true names of the lesser of the Great Evils. For ages uncounted each have ruled over their own domains within the Burning Hells,seeking absolute dominion over their infernal brethren. As the Lesser Four continuously vied for the control of those forces that dwelled within their realms,the Greater Three held absolute power over the whole of Hell. The Lesser Four used dark and evil measures in their quest for power, and herein begins the legend of the Dark Exile.

Mephisto, the Lord of Hatred

Baal, the Lord of Destruction

Diablo, the Lord of Terror

These are the Prime Evils of Hell that wielded their power as a dark, sovereign triumvirate. The Three Brothers ruled over the Lesser Four by brutal force and malicious cunning. Being the eldest and strongest of the Evils, the Three Brothers were responsible for countless victories against the armies of the Light. Although they never held sway over the High Heavens for long, the Three were justly feared by enemies and subjects alike.

With the ascension of Man and the subsequent standstill of the Great Conflict, the Three Brothers began to devote their energies to the perversion of mortal souls. The Three realized that Man was the key to victory in the war against Heaven, and thus altered their rigid agendum that they had propagated since the Beginning. This change caused many of the Lesser Evils to question the authority of the Three, and so brought about a great rift between the Prime Evils and their servitors.

In their ignorance, the Lesser Evils began to believe that the Three were afraid to continue the war with Heaven. Frustrated by the cessation of the war, Azmodan and Belial saw the situation as their chance to overthrow the Prime Evils and take control of Hell for themselves. The two demon lords made a pact with their minor brethren, assuring them that the wretched plague of humanity would not deter the ultimate victory of the sons of Hell. Azmodan and Belial devised a plan to end the stalemate, achieve victory in the Sin War and ultimately ride the bloody crest of the Great Conflict straight into the very arms of Armageddon. Thus, a great revolution was set into motion as all of Hell went to war against the Three Brothers?

The Brothers fought with all of the savagery of the Underworld, and to their credit, annihilated a third of Hell?s treacherous legions. In the end, however, they were overcome by the Horned Death led by the traitors Azmodan and Belial. The Prime Evils, weakened and bodiless, were banished to the mortal realm where Azmodan hoped that they would remain trapped forever. Azmodan believed that with the Three set loose upon humanity, the Angels would be forced to turn their focus upon on the mortal plane – thus leaving the Gates of Heaven abandoned and defenseless. Those few demons who still pledged allegiance to the Three Brothers fled the wrath of Azmodan and Belial, escaping to the realm of Man to seek out their lost Masters.

As the war fires died out upon the battlefields of Hell, Azmodan and Belial began to argue over which of them held the higher authority. The pact that they had made quickly fell to ashes as the two demon lords took up arms against each other. The legions of Hell that remained were polarized behind either warlord, launching themselves into a bloody civil war that has lasted to this day . . .


Librarius Ex Horadrim:

BOOK ONE : OF HEAVEN AND HELL BOOK TWO : THE RETURN OF TERROR
The Great Conflict The Lands of Khanduras
The Sin War The Awakening
The Dark Exile The Darkening of Tristam
The Binding of the Three The Fall of the Black King
The Reign of Diablo
THE NATURE OF THE SOULSTONES
By Jered Cain of the Horadrim

Diablo I Lore: The Binding of the Three

In the ancient days, before the rise of the Western Empires, the dark and terrible entities known as the Three Evils were exiled to the world of Man. These eternal entities wandered throughout the waking world and fed upon the lusts of men, leaving chaos and attrition in their wake. The Evils turned father against son and prompted many great nations into brutal and petty wars. Their Exile from Hell left them with an insatiable hunger to bring suffering and pain to all who would not kneel before them, and so the Three Brothers ravaged the lands of the Far East for countless centuries.

Eventually, a secretive order of mortal magi was gathered together by the enigmatic Arch-Angel Tyrael. These sorcerers were to hunt the Three Evils and put an end to their vicious rampage. The order, known as the Horadrim, consisted of wizards from the diverse and numerous mage-clans of the East. Employing disparate magical practices and disciplines, this unlikely Brotherhood succeeded in capturing two of the Brothers within powerful artifacts called Soulstones.

Mephisto and Baal, trapped within the swirling, spiritual constraints of the Soulstones, were then buried beneath the dunes of the desolate Eastern Sands. The powers of Hatred and wanton Destruction seemed to diminish in the East as a nervous peace began to settle over the land. Yet, for many decades the Horadrim continued their grim search for the third Brother, Diablo. They knew that if the Lord of Terror was left untamed there could never be any lasting peace within the realm of humanity.

The Horadrim followed in the wake of terror and anarchy that spread throughout the Western lands. After a great battle which claimed the lives of many brave souls, the Lord of Terror was captured and imprisoned within the last of the Soulstones by a group of Horadrim monks led by the Initiate Jered Cain. These monks carried the cursed stone to the land of Khanduras and buried it within a secluded cave near the river Talsande. Above this cave the Horadrim constructed a great Monastery from which they could continue to safeguard the Soulstone. As ages passed, the Horadrim constructed a network of catacombs beneath the Monastery to house the earthly remains of the martyrs of their Order.

Generations passed in Khanduras, and the numbers of the Horadrim slowly dwindled. With no quests left to undertake, and too few sons to sustain their guardianship, the once powerful Order faded into obscurity. Eventually, the great Monastery that they had built fell to ruins as well. Although villages grew and thrived around the shell of the old Monastery, no one knew of the dark, secret passageways that stretched into the cold earth beneath it. None could have dreamed of the burning red gem that pulsed within the labyrinth’s heart?

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Copyright 1996 by Blizzard Entertainment

Diablo and Battle.net are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc.


Librarius Ex Horadrim:

BOOK ONE : OF HEAVEN AND HELL BOOK TWO : THE RETURN OF TERROR
The Great Conflict The Lands of Khanduras
The Sin War The Awakening
The Dark Exile The Darkening of Tristam
The Binding of the Three The Fall of the Black King
The Reign of Diablo
THE NATURE OF THE SOULSTONES
By Jered Cain of the Horadrim

Diablo I Lore: The Lands of Khanduras

BOOK TWO: THE RETURN OF TERROR

THE LANDS OF KHANDURAS

Years after the last of the Horadrim had died, a great and prosperous society grew in the lands of the West. As time wore on, many Eastern pilgrims settled in the lands surrounding Khanduras and soon established small, self contained kingdoms. A few of these kingdoms bickered with Khanduras over holdings of property or routes of trade. These squabbles did little to upset the lasting peace of the West, and the great Northern kingdom of Westmarch proved to be a strong ally of Khanduras as the two lands steadily engaged in ventures of barter and commerce.

During this time, a bold, new religion of the Light known as Zakarum began to spread throughout the kingdom of Westmarch and into many of its northern principalities. Zakarum, founded in the Far East, implored followers to enter into the Light and forsake the darkness that lurked within their souls. The people of Westmarch adopted the statutes of Zakarum as their sacred mission in the world. Westmarch began to turn towards its neighbors, expecting them to embrace this ?New Beginning? as well. Tensions rose between the kingdoms of Westmarch and Khanduras as the priests of Zakarum began to preach their foreign dogma whether they were welcomed or not.

It was then that the great northern lord Leoric came unto the lands of Khanduras and, in the name of Zakarum, declared himself King. Leoric was a deeply religious man and had brought many Knights and Priests with him that comprised his Order of the Light. Leoric and his trusted advisor, the Arch Bishop Lazarus, made their way to the city of Tristram. Leoric appropriated the ancient, decrepit Monastery on the outskirts of the town for his seat of power and renovated it to match its time-lost glory. Although the free people of Khanduras were not pleased with being placed under the sudden rule of a foreign King, Leoric served them with justice and might. Eventually, the people of Khanduras grew to respect the kind Leoric, sensing that he sought only to guide and protect them against the oppression of Darkness.

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Copyright 1996 by Blizzard Entertainment
Diablo and Battle.net are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc.


Librarius Ex Horadrim:

BOOK ONE : OF HEAVEN AND HELL BOOK TWO : THE RETURN OF TERROR
The Great Conflict The Lands of Khanduras
The Sin War The Awakening
The Dark Exile The Darkening of Tristam
The Binding of the Three The Fall of the Black King
The Reign of Diablo
THE NATURE OF THE SOULSTONES
By Jered Cain of the Horadrim

Diablo I Lore: The Awakening

Not long after Leoric took possession of Khanduras, a power long asleep awakened within the dark recesses beneath the Monastery. Sensing that freedom was within his grasp, Diablo entered the nightmares of the Arch Bishop and lured him into the dark, subterranean labyrinth. In his terror, Lazarus raced throughout the abandoned hallways until he at last came to the chamber of the burning Soulstone. No longer in command of his body or spirit, he raised the stone above his head and uttered words long forgotten in the realm of mortals.

His will destroyed, Lazarus shattered the Soulstone upon the ground. Diablo once again came into the world of Man. Although he was released from his imprisonment within the Soulstone, the Lord of Terror was still greatly weakened from his long sleep and required an anchor to the world. Once he had found a mortal form to wear, he could begin to reclaim his vastly depleted power. The great demon weighed the souls residing in the town above, and chose to take the strongest of them – that of King Leoric.

For many months King Leoric secretly fought the evil presence that twisted his thoughts and emotions. Sensing that he had been possessed by some unknown evil, Leoric hid his dark secret from his Priests, hoping that somehow his own devout righteousness would be enough to exorcise the corruption growing inside him – he was sorely mistaken. Diablo stripped away the core of Leoric?s being, burning away all honor and virtue from his soul. Lazarus too, had fallen under the sway of the Demon, keeping close to Leoric at all times. Lazarus worked to conceal the plans of his new Master from the Order of Light, hoping that the demon?s power would grow, well concealed amongst the servants of Zakarum.

The priests of Zakarum and the citizenry of Khanduras recognized the disturbing change within their liege. His once proud and rugged form became distorted and deformed. King Leoric became increasingly deranged and ordered immediate executions of any who dared to question his methods or authority. Leoric began to send his Knights to other villages to bully their townspeople into submission. The people of Khanduras who had once grown to see great honor in their ruler began to call Leoric the Black King.

Driven to the brink of madness by the Lord of Terror, King Leoric slowly alienated his closest friends and advisors. Lachdanan, Captain of the Knights of the Order of Light and honored Champion of Zakarum, tried to discern the nature of his King?s deteriorating spirit. Yet at every turn the Arch-Bishop Lazarus would waylay Lachdanan and admonish him for questioning the actions of the King. As tensions grew between the two, Lazarus charged Lachdanan with treason against the Kingdom. To the Priests and Knights of Leoric?s court, the prospect of Lachdanan committing treason was ridiculous. Lachdanan?s motives were honorable and just, and soon many began question the reason of their once beloved King. Leoric?s madness was growing more obvious with each passing day. Sensing that the advisors of the court were becoming increasingly suspicious of foul treachery, Lazarus desperately sought to contain the eroding situation. The Arch-Bishop masterfully convinced the delusional Leoric that the kingdom of Westmarch was plotting against him, secretly planning to dethrone him and annex Khanduras into its own lands. Leoric flew into a rage and summoned his advisors to his side. Manipulated by the Arch-Bishop, the paranoid King declared a state of war between the kingdoms of Khanduras and Westmarch.

Leoric ignored the warnings and admonishments of his advisors and the royal army of Khanduras was ordered to the North to engage in a war that they did not believe in. Lachdanan was appointed by Lazarus to lead the armies of Khanduras into Westmarch. Although Lachdanan argued the against the necessity of the coming conflict, he was honor-bound to uphold the will of his King. Many of the high-priests and officials were forced to travel to the North as emissaries on errands of diplomatic urgency, as well. The desperate ploy of Lazarus had succeeded in sending many of the King?s more ?troublesome? advisors to their certain deaths . . .


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Copyright 1996 by Blizzard Entertainment
Diablo and Battle.net are trademarks or registered
trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc.


Librarius Ex Horadrim:

BOOK ONE : OF HEAVEN AND HELL BOOK TWO : THE RETURN OF TERROR
The Great Conflict The Lands of Khanduras
The Sin War The Awakening
The Dark Exile The Darkening of Tristam
The Binding of the Three The Fall of the Black King
The Reign of Diablo
THE NATURE OF THE SOULSTONES
By Jered Cain of the Horadrim

Diablo I Lore: The Darkening of Tristam

The absence of prying advisors and inquisitive Priests left Diablo free to assume total control over the King?s battered soul. As the Lord of Terror attempted to strengthen his hold upon the maddened King, he found that the lingering spirit of Leoric fought with him still. Although the control over Leoric that Diablo held was formidable, the Demon knew that in his weakened state he could never take complete possession of his soul as long as a glimmer of his will remained. The demonlord sought a fresh and innocent host upon which to build his Terror.

The demon relinquished his control over Leoric, but the King?s soul was left corrupted and his mind crazed. Diablo began to search throughout Khanduras for the perfect vessel to act as his focus, and found such a soul easily within his reach. Enjoined by his dark master, Lazarus kidnapped Albrecht – the only son of Leoric – and dragged the terrified youth down into the blackness of the labyrinth. Flooding the boy?s defenseless mind with the essence of pure Terror, Diablo easily took possession of the young Albrecht.

Pain and fire raced through the child?s soul. Hideous laughter filled his head and clouded his thoughts. Paralyzed with fear, Albrecht felt the presence of Diablo within his mind as it seemed to push him down, deeper and deeper into darkness and oblivion. Diablo gazed upon his surroundings through the eyes of the young prince. A lustful hunger still tortured the demon after his frustrating bout for control over Leoric, but the nightmares of the boy provided ample substance to sate him. Reaching deep into Albrecht?s subconscious, Diablo ripped the greatest fears of the child from their hiding places and gave them breath.

Albrecht watched, as if out of a dream, twisted and disfigured forms appeared all around him. Unholy, writhing visages of terror danced about him chanting choruses of obscenities. All of the ?monsters? that he had ever imagined or believed that he had seen in his life became flesh and were given life before him. Large bodies comprised of living rock erupted from the walls and bowed to their dark master. The ancient, skeletal corpses of the Horadrim arose from archaic crypts and lumbered off into the red washed corridors beyond. As the cacophony of madness and nightmares hammered its final blow against Albrecht?s shattered spirit, the bloodlusted ghouls and demons of his mind scattered and scrambled maniacally into the lengthening passageways of his waking Nightmare.

The ancient catacombs of the Horadrim had become a twisted labyrinth of raw, focused Terror. Empowered by Diablo?s possession of young Albrecht, the creatures of the boy?s own imagination had gained corporeal form. So strong was the terror that grew inside of Albrecht, that the borders of the Mortal realm began to warp and tear. The Burning Hell began to seep into the world of Man and take root within the labyrinth. Beings and occurrences displaced by time and space, and long lost to the history of Man were pulled screaming into the ever-expanding domain.

The body of Albrecht, fully possessed by Diablo, began to distort and change. The small boy grew and his eyes blazed as tendril-like spines ripped through his flesh. Great, arched horns erupted from Albrecht?s skull as Diablo altered the form of the child to match that of his demonic body. Deep within the recesses of the labyrinth, a growing power was being harnessed. When the moment was right, Diablo would venture once more into the mortal world and free his captive Brothers Mephisto and Baal. The Prime Evils would be reunited, and together they would reclaim their rightful place in Hell.

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Copyright ? 1996 by Blizzard Entertainment
Diablo and Battle.net are trademarks or registered
trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc.


Librarius Ex Horadrim:

BOOK ONE : OF HEAVEN AND HELL BOOK TWO : THE RETURN OF TERROR
The Great Conflict The Lands of Khanduras
The Sin War The Awakening
The Dark Exile The Darkening of Tristam
The Binding of the Three The Fall of the Black King
The Reign of Diablo
THE NATURE OF THE SOULSTONES
By Jered Cain of the Horadrim

Diablo I Lore – The Fall of the Black King

The war against the zealous armies of Westmarch ended with a horrible slaughter. With the army of Khanduras ripped to shreds by the superior numbers and defensive positions of Westmarch, Lachdanan quickly gathered together those who were not captured or killed and ordered a retreat back to the safety of Khanduras. They returned to find the town of Tristram in shambles.

King Leoric, deep within the throes of madness, went into a rage when he learned that his son was missing. After scouring the village with the few guards that remained with him at the monastery, Leoric had decided that the townsfolk had abducted his son and hidden him somewhere. Although the townsfolk denied any knowledge of Prince Albrecht?s whereabouts, Leoric insisted that they had crafted a conspiracy against him, and that they would pay the price for such treachery. The mysterious disappearance of the Arch-Bishop Lazarus left no one in Tristram with whom the King would take council. Overcome by grief and dementia, Leoric had many of the townsfolk executed for the crime of high treason.

As Lachdanan and his fellow survivors returned to confront their King, Leoric sent his few remaining guards against them. Believing that Lachdanan was somehow part of the townsfolk?s conspiracy, Leoric decreed that he and his party were to die. Lachdanan, finally realizing that Leoric was beyond salvation, ordered his men to defend themselves. The ensuing battle carried them down into the very halls of the darkened Monastery, bringing a final desecration to the once holy sanctum of the Horadrim. Lachdanan won a bittersweet victory as his men were forced to kill all of Leoric?s deceived protectors.

They cornered the ravenous King within his own sanctuary and begged him to explain the atrocities he had committed. Leoric only spat at them and cursed them for traitors against both his crown and the Light. Lachdanan walked slowly towards his King and sorrowfully drew his sword. Full of grief and rage, all honor having been cast to the winds, Lachdanan ran his blade through Leoric?s shriveled, blackened heart.

The once noble King screamed an unearthly death-cry, and as his madness finally overtook him, he brought down a curse upon those who had so betrayed him. Calling upon the forces of Darkness that he had spent his entire life combating, Leoric condemned Lachdanan and the others to eternal damnation. In that last, fleeting moment within the heart of the Monastery, all that was ever virtuous or honorable about the stewards of Khanduras was shattered forever.

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Copyright 1996 by Blizzard Entertainment
Diablo and Battle.net are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc.


Librarius Ex Horadrim:

BOOK ONE : OF HEAVEN AND HELL BOOK TWO : THE RETURN OF TERROR
The Great Conflict The Lands of Khanduras
The Sin War The Awakening
The Dark Exile The Darkening of Tristam
The Binding of the Three The Fall of the Black King
The Reign of Diablo
THE NATURE OF THE SOULSTONES
By Jered Cain of the Horadrim

Diablo I Lore – The Reign of Diablo

The Black King lay dead, slain at the hands of his own Priests and Knights. The young Prince Albrecht was still missing, and the proud defenders of Khanduras were no more. The people of Tristram looked about their lifeless town and were greatly dismayed. Awash in feelings of both relief and remorse, they soon realized that their troubles had merely begun. Strange, eerie lights appeared in the darkened windows of the Monastery. Misshapen, leathery-skinned creatures were seen venturing forth from the shadows of the church. Horrible, wounded cries seemed to linger on the wind, emanating from deep underground. It became apparent that something quite unnatural had infested the once holy sight?

Travelers on the roads surrounding Tristram were accosted by cloaked riders that seemed to now constantly roam the deserted countryside. Many villagers fled Tristram, making their way to other towns or kingdoms, fearing some unnamed evil that seemed to wait in the shadows all around them. Those few who chose to remain seldom ventured out at night, and never tread foot upon the grounds of the cursed Monastery. Whispered rumors of poor, innocent people being abducted in the night by wicked, nightmarish creatures filled the halls of the local inn. With no King, no law, and no army left to defend them, many of the townsfolk began to fear an attack from the things that now dwelt beneath their town.

The Arch-Bishop Lazarus, frayed and disheveled, returned from his absence and assured the townsfolk that he too had been ravaged by the growing evil of the Monastery. With their desperate need for reassurance clouding their good judgment, Lazarus whipped the townspeople into a frenzied mob. Reminding them that Prince Albrecht was still unaccounted for, he persuaded many of the men to follow him into the depths of the Monastery to search for the boy. They gathered torches and soon the night air glowed with the flickering light of hope. They armed themselves with shovels, picks and scythes and so prepared, they boldly followed the treacherous Arch-Bishop straight into the fiery maw of Hell itself?

The few who survived the horrible fate that awaited them returned to Tristram and recounted what they could of the ordeal. Their wounds were terrible, and even the skills of the healer could not save some of them. As the stories of demons and devils spread, a stifling, primal Terror began to consume the hearts of all of the town?s inhabitants. It was a Terror that none of them had ever known?

Deep beneath the foundations of the ruined Monastery, Diablo gorged himself upon the fears of the mortals above him. He slowly sank back into the welcoming shadows and began to harness his depleted power.

He smiled to himself in the sheltering darkness, for he knew that the time of his final victory was fast approaching?

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Copyright 1996 by Blizzard Entertainment
Diablo and Battle.net are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc.


Librarius Ex Horadrim:

BOOK ONE : OF HEAVEN AND HELL BOOK TWO : THE RETURN OF TERROR
The Great Conflict The Lands of Khanduras
The Sin War The Awakening
The Dark Exile The Darkening of Tristam
The Binding of the Three The Fall of the Black King
The Reign of Diablo
THE NATURE OF THE SOULSTONES
By Jered Cain of the Horadrim

Diablo I Lore – The Nature of the Soulstones

BY JERED CAIN OF THE HORADRIM

It was long ago that the enigmatic Arch-Angel Tyrael bestowed upon us the secrets of the mysterious Soulstones. Tyrael bequested upon our Order three of these Stones so we could contain the vile essences of the Three Prime Evils who had been let loose upon our world. Although the artifacts were constructed in realms far removed from our own, we found that they were simple to understand.

The Soulstones affect only beings that are non-corporeal and thus have no power over living, breathing creatures. When invoked, the Soulstones bring into being a strong “spiritual” vacuum. Any non-physical entities caught within this vacuum are drawn into the burning recesses of the Soulstone and are forever trapped within. These spirits are released only when the Soulstone is deactivated or destroyed.

The power of the Soulstones proved to be much more difficult to employ when used against the great Prime Evils. Voraciously disposed to possessing hapless mortals, the Three Brothers found that they were immune to the effects of the Stones while occupying human souls. Sadly, we were forced to hunt down and kill the innocent victims of the Prime Evils so that their demonic essences could be subject to the effects of the Soulstones.

Mephisto and Diablo, once found, were easily lured into the Soulstones. The capture of their brother Baal, however, became complicated when the Soulstone that was to be his eternal prison was shattered and fragmented. We found that while the shards still held the power to lure the demon to them, they could not properly contain it. Tal Rasha, a fellow Initiate who has been since immortalized in Horadrim lore, theorized that a mortal of strong will might be able to contain Baal within his own mortal soul. This sacrifice meant that the essence of any mortal so chosen would be forever tortured while locked in eternal conflict with the enthralled demon.

To this end, Tal Rasha volunteered to contain the raging Lord of Destruction.

Piercing his breast with a shard of the Soulstone, Tal Rasha took within himself the essence of Baal, the Lord of Destruction. The Initiate’s body was shackled, chained and buried deep within a tomb under the desert. The sacrifice of Tal Rasha has kept Baal imprisoned for many years now, and although the demon was imprisoned without the use of a whole Soulstone, we believe that our victory may be a hollow one. Should Tal Rasha ever escape, he would have the formidable powers of Baal added to his own. By ridding the world of this present Evil, we may have created a nightmare worse than that which we first sought to contain?

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Copyright 1996 by Blizzard Entertainment
Diablo and Battle.net are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc.

Diablo 1 – Sorceror Class



Warrior | Rogue | Sorceror

Although practitioners of the mystic arts are scarce within the often superstitious and religious lands of the West, many magi have made the pilgrimage from the Far East to see for themselves what horrors lie beneath the ruined Cathedral of Khanduras. The veiled Brotherhood of the Vizjerei, one of the eldest and most dominant mage-clans of the East, has sent many of its acolytes to observe the dark events unfolding in Khanduras first hand.

The Vizjerei, known for their brightly colored turinash -or spirit-robeshave taken a keen interest in both gathering knowledge of demons and seeing them slain. The Vizjerei elders hope that their acolytes will learn the secrets of the dark evil that they sense growing in the West and can destroy it. The possibility of discovering long-lost tomes of magical knowledge within the confines of the labyrinth has also captured the interest of many wandering Sorcerers.

Most magic in Khanduras is in the form of enchanted items and elixirs. The Eastern Sorcerers have developed a greater understanding of spellcasting than the other classes, and while a Vizjerei neonate knows only the simplest of spells to start, he can expect to rapidly grow in power as he discovers new incantations. All Sorcerers possess the ability to recharge spell staves by drawing power from their surroundings and channeling them through the staff.

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Warrior | Rogue | Sorceror

Diablo 1 – Rogue Class



Warrior | Rogue | Sorceror

The Sisters of the Sightless Eye are a loosely organized guild shrouded in mystery amongst the peoples of the West. These highly skilled archers employ ancient Eastern philosophies that develop an inner-sight that they use both in combat and to circumvent dangerous traps that they may encounter. Known only as wandering Rogues in the West, the Sisters conceal their secret affiliation by posing as simple travelers. Many pompous fools have made the mistake of underestimating these steel nerved women in combat and paid a terrible price for their vanity.

The strange events transpiring in Khanduras have caught the attention of many of these Rogues. They have come from as far as the Eastern dunes to test their skills against the dark evil that is said to be lurking in Tristram. It is also believed that untold riches wait to be discovered among the ruins of the Horadrim monastery.

Although not as powerful in close combat as the Warrior, the Rogue is the undisputed master of the bow. A skilled Sister can send a stream of arrows at an opponent, each fired with a seemingly careless precision. The innate sixth sense that all Rogues seem to possess also allows them to sense trapped fixtures, and aids them in attempts to disarm these traps.

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Copyright 1996 by Blizzard Entertainment
Diablo and Battle.net are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc.



Warrior | Rogue | Sorceror

Diablo 1 – Warrior Class



Warrior | Rogue | Sorceror

The Warriors of the lands of Khanduras are well trained in all of the weapons of war. Ranging from crusading paladins to unscrupulous mercenaries, Warriors can be found wherever there is conflict amongst their countrymen. Many of these adventuresome men joined with King Leoric’s army and went to battle against the Northern kingdom of Westmarch. As the fires of war burned themselves out, these Warriors returned home to find their kingdom in shattered disarray.

Dark rumors of the mysterious demise of King Leoric abound and the evil that lurks within his Cathedral has drawn many Warriors to Khanduras seeking fortune and glory. Though they were warned by the people of Tristram, a few of these brave souls have ventured into the chaotic labyrinth beneath the old church- never to be heard from again?

Whether they are driven by valor, honor, madness or greed, new Warriors arrive in Tristram every day, ready to challenge the dark unknown that awaits them beneath the earth.

The Warrior is the strongest and toughest of the three available Classes, and he excels in the art of close combat. His primary weakness is that his extensive physical training has left little time to develop more than a rudimentary knowledge of magic. The extended periods of time that most Warriors spend away from their homes and civilization requires that they learn to repair their own weapons and armor, although their skill is no match for the talent of a true blacksmith.

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Diablo and Battle.net are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc.



Warrior | Rogue | Sorceror

Diablo: Demonsbane - Excerpt

October 2000
eBook, 121 pages


Description


Since the beginning of time, the angelic hosts of the High Heavens and the demonic hordes of the Burning Hells have been locked in a struggle for the fate of all creation. That struggle has now come to the mortal realm…and neither Man nor Demon nor Angel will be left unscathed….

What was to have been a victorious last stand against the demonic invasion of Entsteig has instead become a massacre. Only Siggard remains, a warrior unable to remember the final hours of the battle, driven by the carnage he experienced and the void in his mind to avenge those slain by the army of darkness. As he hunts the demon lord who butchered everything dear to him, Siggard also pieces together the truth of that terrible battle…and finds that his nightmare is only just beginning.

An original tale of swords, sorcery, and timeless struggle based on the bestselling, award-winning M-rated electronic game from Blizzard Entertainment. Intended for mature readers.

Order this book at the Blizzplanet Store


Chapter One



The Night of Souls

And the hosts of Hell looked upon man, and swore
vengeance for their defeat by the Vizjerei.
“No more will these creatures deny us,” swore the Prime Evils,
“for we are greater than they.” And thus began the Sin War.
—The Holy Scriptures of Zakarum

Siggard startled awake, the sounds of battle still ringing in his ears, as though he had just been in the midst of the bloodshed.

Exhausted, he lay on the bank of a road, the trees on both sides obscured by a light mist illuminated by moonlight. He tried to sit up, only to have his back explode in pain. For a moment he rubbed the sore muscles and kidneys, and then he struggled to his knees.

Blinking, he wondered where he was and how he had gotten there. The road did not look familiar at all, and there were no visible landmarks. He scratched his head, trying to think, and winced for a moment when his fingernails ran over a tender spot.

Siggard was a large man, well grown, with a full brown beard. But now his usually placid gray eyes were haggard and his beard was in a tangle. He shook his head; he knew he had been at the field of Blackmarch, a shield-man in the army of Earl Edgewulf. And they had been fighting someone, but who he could not say.

Groaning, Siggard gained his feet. He would first have to find his way to the battlefield and try to rejoin the army, but what he truly wished was to rejoin his family in Bear’s Hill. That would have to wait until the fighting was done, though.

Taking stock of his gear, he noticed his sword was rather more notched than the last time he remembered, and his leather jerkin and trousers were ragged but intact. Where his coat of mail had gotten to, he had no idea. His wide shield was also missing.

Cloaked in a mist drawn eerie in the moonlight, Siggard tried to get his bearings, but no matter which way he turned, he couldn’t tell where Blackmarch might lie. Finally, he picked a direction and began walking.

How long he walked before he reached the gallows, Siggard could not say, though it seemed hours. Regardless, he found himself facing a fork in the road. To one side of the road there was a three-way sign, but it was too dark to read it. On the other side stood a gibbet, a decaying corpse dangling from it by a worn hemp rope.

Unbidden, the words of one of his comrades in arms came back to him. “Hanged men have angry souls, you know,” old Banagar had said. “That’s why they hoist them at crossroads. That way they can’t find their way back for vengeance.” Banagar had always been rather morbid, he reflected.

Siggard shook his head, trying to ignore the stench of putrefying flesh. The road had to lead to a town somewhere, even if it was in the twice-damned underworld itself. So all he had to do was pick a direction and follow it.

He looked up at the corpse and smiled. “I don’t suppose you’d know the way to Blackmarch, eh?”

The corpse’s rotting head turned and glared at him.

Siggard leapt back in shock, drawing his sword and staring at the gibbet. The body dangled, lifeless, as it had before Siggard had spoken, and as it no doubt had long before the soldier had even arrived.

Siggard felt a chill go down his spine as he looked at the corpse. He prayed silently to the gods to let him see his family again, just one more time. He didn’t want to die here, trapped among lost spirits.

His sword still drawn, Siggard backed down one of the paths, finally turning once the gibbet had vanished in the mist. The ethereal fog curled around him as he walked, Siggard mouthing a silent prayer with every step.

The path twisted and turned among the trees, and the dirt crunched under Siggard’s boots. For a moment he wondered if he wasn’t in some endless forest of the damned, forced to wander a haunted woodland for all eternity. He shook his head; if he was to find his way out, he would have to stop thinking like that.

Faint shapes appeared in the mist ahead of him, and for a moment Siggard could make out a horse and rider, standing under a large oak tree. He blinked hard, but the figure remained. He pursed his lips; whatever it was, it wasn’t a figment of his imagination, though it did seem ghostly.

As he walked forward, he saw another figure appear in the mist. The newcomer drew a blade and, before Siggard had a chance to shout a warning, plunged it into the rider. Siggard rushed forward, his sword at the ready, praying he would not have to fight, yet as he ran the two figures faded into the swirling fog. Finally, he stood under the oak, but not even a footprint suggested that anybody else had been there that night.

“If this keeps up much longer, I’ll go mad,” Siggard muttered. “I might even start talking to myself.”

He moved away until he had a respectful distance between himself and the oak, and then began to gather deadwood. After a bit of work, he reclined under an ancient elm, watching the flames dance on his small fire until he drifted to sleep.

Siggard stood in the shield wall at Blackmarch, watching the horizon. Earl Edgewulf walked from man to man, complimenting each on their standing and promising glory ahead. For his part, Siggard just wanted to see his family again. But he knew that the bloodshed was necessary; if they weren’t stopped here, the enemy would be able to roam freely in Entsteig, spreading terror and destruction.

He closed his eyes for a moment, visualizing Emilye and his newborn child. His wife’s golden hair had glittered in the sunlight when they had last spoken, and her crystal eyes had been unable to contain the tears she had been trying to hide. He had told her that it would be fine, that he would be back soon.

Thunderclouds scudded above, lightning arcing between them, followed by blasts of thunder. “It looks like it’s going to rain,” old Banagar muttered. Siggard grimaced at the elder man, running his eyes over the gray stubble surrounding a faint mustache on the wrinkled face. Siggard mouthed a silent prayer that the rain wouldn’t turn the ground into a slick wasteland.

He stood on the bare hill, an army around him, like something out of a legend of the Mage Clan Wars, with every soldier clad in a shining coat of mail. They had taken the high ground, and had cleared some of the trees from the bottom of the hill. When the enemy charged, they would be completely exposed.

“Here they come!” one of the lookouts shouted. Siggard squinted and watched the treeline, looking for any sign of the enemy. Even after Earl Edgewulf had put them into formation, he still didn’t know what enemies he would be facing. From the corner of his eye he thought he could see glowing eyes staring out from the shadowy woods, but when he looked directly at them, all he saw was darkness.

Then the woods began to boil, the trees themselves twisting and turning in torment. Siggard inhaled sharply as the enemy burst out from the tortured woodland with a shrill screaming, his gut churning in terror.

None of them were even remotely human.

Some were small and doglike, carrying bloodstained axes and hatchets. Others stood tall, their muscular bodies capped with the head of a goat, what little skin showing painted with demonic symbols. And in the background there were shadowy THINGS, defying any description.

Something shook him, and a voice said, “Would you mind if I share your fire?”

Siggard sat up, finding himself back beside the forest path. A cloaked figure stood above him, and Siggard could make out a sharp, but strangely kind visage in the shadows of the cowl. The fire crackled beside the man, and in the flickering glow of the flames and the waning moonlight, Siggard noticed that the man seemed to be clad entirely in gray.

“Help yourself,” Siggard said. “I’m afraid I have no food to offer.”

“That is not an issue,” the man said, sitting down by the fire. “I have already eaten. Perhaps I can offer you something?”

Siggard shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

“There are many restless spirits out tonight,” the stranger said. “As I walked, I saw several ghosts.”

“I noticed that too,” Siggard stated, scratching his beard. “For a while, I wondered if I had gone to Hell.”

The man chuckled. “I can assure you, this is neither Heaven nor Hell. However, it is the Night of Souls, when it is said that in some places the restless dead will return.”

“And what do they come back for?” Siggard asked.

“Some come for vengeance. Some come to see their loved ones again. And for some, they just cannot rest. Sometimes it is the earth itself that brings them back, remembering the life force that once was.”

Siggard shuddered. “It is unnatural.”

The man laughed, his voice strangely musical. “On the contrary, it is entirely natural! Life does not simply give in to death, and the soul is more than some abstract idea. These spirits merely walk their own path, most unaware of any others around them. But there are some, particularly in the forces of Hell, who would raise the dead, animating them so that they do not hold a spirit, but are merely an automaton. I think that is what you speak of.”

Siggard shook his head. “I do not know if I should be terrified or awed by what you say.”

The stranger lowered his hood, revealing eyes sparkling with life and a long mane of blond hair. “I think both would be appropriate. There are more things in Heaven and Hell than any mortal man could dream.”

“And how would you know all of this?” Siggard asked.

The man shrugged. “I am a wanderer; I have seen more than most would ever imagine. That is merely my nature.”

“Will you give me your name?” Siggard said.

The stranger nodded. “My name is Tyrael. May I ask your name?”

“Siggard.”

Tyrael smiled. “Your trust does you credit, but be careful with whom you place it. I am safe, a traveler sworn to the light. But there are others who are sworn to darkness, and they do not reveal themselves unless they are forced to.”

Tyrael leaned forward. “Tell me, friend Siggard, what brings you onto this road on this of all nights?”

Siggard shrugged. “I wish I knew.”

Tyrael raised an eyebrow. “I don’t understand.”

“The last thing I remember is the battle at Blackmarch. If this is the Night of Souls, then that would be two days ago. I can’t remember anything between lining up in the shield wall and awakening earlier this evening on the ground.”

Tyrael nodded sagely. “Sometimes one will see something so horrifying that the mind will block it out, as though the soul itself cannot bear to remember it.”

Siggard suddenly recalled the strange shadows behind the treeline at Blackmarch, and found himself nodding in agreement. “I guess I just want to find out what happened at Blackmarch and see my wife and child again.”

Tyrael pursed his lips. “I have heard fell things about Blackmarch. I would not go there if I were you.”

“I have to know what happened.”

Tyrael shook his head, and for a moment Siggard thought he could see a great sadness in the man’s eyes. “If you must go, then you must go. You are ten leagues south of Blackmarch as the crow flies. You can reach it in a couple of days by following the road north.” He pointed back in the direction that Siggard had originally come. “If I were you, however, I would go south for one more league, and then take the fork west. It will take you back into Entsteig.”

Siggard nodded. “I will consider your advice.”

Tyrael smiled kindly. “That is all one could ask.”

Siggard watched as the waning moon finally slid down under the treeline and the eastern sky began to brighten. “It will be dawn soon.”

“It seems that the Night of Souls has come to an end at last,” Tyrael mused. “All of the restless dead now return to their graves in the hopes of peace.”

Siggard turned and stretched, wincing for a moment as his back ached. “I should begin my journey; I have a long walk ahead of me.”

“May your feet be swift and take you into places far from harm,” Tyrael said, still sitting by the dancing flames.

Siggard turned and looked at the road. “You have the tongue of a poet, my friend. I thank you for your good wishes.”

But when he turned, he stood alone by the fire.

The mist was gone by the morning, burnt away by the autumn sun. Siggard carefully smothered the fire, trying to ensure that no billowing smoke revealed where he was. He still remembered the sights of the previous night with fear and awe, and wanted to ensure that he did not run into any restless spirits who did not respect the dawn.

Thinking back on the evening, he still wondered at some of what he had seen. He had never been a superstitious man, but the memories of the hanging corpse and the ghosts in the mist seemed too real to have been a vivid dream. And then there was Tyrael.

Was the stranger a ghost, come back for a friendly chat? Or was he something else? A figment from a dream, perhaps?

Siggard shook his head; at this point in time, it was useless speculation. Aside from which, he still had to find out what had happened at Blackmarch.

He checked that his sword was securely fastened to his belt, and began the journey north.

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