Now, as you may or may not have realized from the title, this is a Diablo 1 fan-fiction, the first chapter of a series. Thanks to Microsoft Word, there are no spelling "mistakes" (except certain words like Ogden and Tristram...damned dictionaries...). Prepare to return to the world of Tristram and the dungeon beneath it.

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I stand on the rolling hills overlooking the town I had once called home. It was so quiet in these days, you could hear a cat's purr from three miles away. That is, if there were any cats left. We had lost our glorious king, our wise Archbishop, and many, many townspeople of Tristram in only a matter of days. Sighing heavily, I continued on looking like the prodigal son. Only, would there be a father present to welcome me? Maybe a father ready to embrace me in a clasp of death, or maybe some townspeople had survived.

Entering town, I see many abandoned, rickety structures, presumably houses that had belonged to the now-deceased townspeople. Crossing the river, I approached my old house. It had been abandoned soon after I left Tristram, as my parent had passed on many, many years before. I could hear the welcome sound of other humans coming from the town center, and I went to see who it was.

Standing at the door of the town inn/tavern was my childhood friend, Ogden. I knew it was he the minute I laid eyes upon him. He recognized me, as well, and we rushed forward to embrace each other. After asking where I had been, what I had done, and what I had seen, his face suddenly became dark and gloomy. I could sense that the evil that had plagued our kingdom truly was concentrated in this small, rural town.

Ogden informed me of the journey that the Archbishop had led the people of Tristram on, deep into the old cathedral, which was now used for God knows what. Very few people escaped with their lives, and Lazarus had last been seen running deep into the dungeon, presumably looking for our lost king Leoric, who had disappeared into the labyrinth to look for his kidnapped son. Odgen swore to me that this was all he knew, and pointed me in the direction of Griswold, the town blacksmith and one of the survivors of the failed expedition.

Griswold greeted me with a warm smile and a cheery “Hello!”. His accent made him hard to understand, yet he gave off an aura of cheerfulness, which was amazing, considering what he had supposedly been through. I decided that I would not bother him about the journey into the dungeon, as I had seen the affect it had on Ogden, and he had not even been involved in the expedition! Who knew what would happen to Griswold if I brought up the subject? He seemed too nice of a man for me to have a desire to upset him. Instead, I offered my old club. Griswold examined it, looked up, and offered me 10 gold pieces for it. I sold it immediately, as my magical staff would be more than adequate for any upcoming travels. I did not need the burden of a club ... such a primitive weapon.

Heading toward the center of town, I had a glint of recognition when I looked upon the old man leaning on the fountain. My thoughts flashed back to my youth, to a man in his mid-thirties. Cain, the town’s leader, in spirit. He had kept us together through so many bad times. Many times had my thoughts gone back to him, wondering where he was, how he was doing, and if he was still alive. A quick calculation showed that this old man could very likely be Cain. Walking towards him, I could not help from smiling. Seeing my childhood idol as a frail old man brought back memories of my childhood, of happy times. Before the darkness engulfed our kingdom.

It seemed that I was not the only one who was rediscovering an old friend. Cain recognized me through my mask of age, and smiled as I approached him. I could tell he was going to explain to me what had happened, but, I raised my hand to signal that I already knew. Cain’s smile became a solemn stare. I could tell that these townspeople were lost, but what was I to do? Surely I could not take on the forces of... of Hell itself on my own? Cain saw the doubt in my eyes, and revealed to me something that he had realized all his life. I was gifted. At a young age, I had caused lightning storms and had even caused a house to burst into flame. I was a purebred Sorcerer. With the right training, I had the power to take on the Devil himself and triumph. I nodded to Cain, who offered to let me stay the night. I swore I would begin my training in the morning. I had a hellish adventure sitting on the horizon.

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I have to say, I hope you people don't hate me too much for reviving Diablo 1, but thanks to my god damned CD-ROM drive, I can't run Diablo 2 until Blizzard gets around a patch for it... I will have the second chapter up soon.

And no begging to be included in the fan-fic.

Yes, the main character is a Sorcerer. I like the way I hid that fact until the middle-end of the story.