02-14-2018, 08:23 PM
This was the day he had looked forward to since the highwaymen had saved him from a return to the blood pits. After nearly five months of glorified raiding and brigand activity, Argento’s new ‘associates’ were taking him to meet with ‘the big man.’ Over time, the paladin had met an increasing number of higher-ranking individuals, each one a step up in the nebulous web of insurrectionists that occupied Tyrael’s network.
With a sack tight over his face, Argento had been ushered for nearly an hour and a half through a variety of different climates and altitudes. When he could finally see clearly, he noticed that his final destination was someplace either underground or deep in a mountain. The walls seemed to indicate that the area was natural, so perhaps he was in a secluded cavern.
From the far end of the chamber, a figure wreathed in a pale glow stepped out from the darkness of a connecting room. The six individuals around Argento dropped to their knees and lowered their heads as the cloaked individual strode forward to meet the new arrival.
“Welcome, Argento Camarinos, Chosen of the Sun.” Although the entity stood just a few feet in front of the paladin, Tyrael’s voice sounded disembodied as it filled the dank air of the cavern. “I have long looked forward to making your acquaintance.”
Argento placed a hand atop his heart and nodded his head. “The feeling is mutual. Your story is legend in the world above.”
Lifting a pair of hands sheated in heavy gloves, Tyrael pushed back his hood. As the shadows fell away to reveal the visage of the fabled figure, the once unnatural glow that suffused the air around the warrior simply ceased to exist—as if it never had. Underneath the heavy shadows of the hood, there was the grizzled and gently scarred countenance of a bald man with dark skin. The presence of his visage elicited a subtle shift of Argento’s features that his new acquaintance was quick to notice.
“Is this not what you had pictured, Argento Camarinos?”
The paladin paused for a moment before simply tilting his head. “The stories made you out to be something more like a…”
“Angel?”
Argento nodded. “Aye, something like that.”
“Legends are like that, Argento. Folk heroes are never just men—they have to be larger-than-life, lest they be easily forgotten to history.”
Understanding the words of the man, the holy warrior just gave another nod.
“You have worked alongside my legion for countless months… How does that make you feel?”
There was pregnant pause. In that moment, Argento made a decision to follow his heart and speak
“Your operation is devoid of honor and justice. You strike in the dead of night and from the back. There is no valor in what you do.”
Gasps could be heard around the paladin, but the mythic figure who stood before him remained seemingly unaffected by the remarks.
“I am the most wanted man in the Underverse. Those who serve me and fall into the custody of the Lord of Terror suffer fates worse than torture and death, Argento. Our very existence, regardless of the means through which we fight back, is valorous. Would you have use senselessly charge into the Chaos Sanctuary, guns blazing, and throw away our lives for nothing?”
The paladin had no rebuttal, because he knew that Tyrael spoke the truth. “I did not say your mission was without value, Tyrael.”
“Of course,” the warrior replied as he motioned for the others to leave. “Follow me, Argento.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, the devotee of the Glorious Sun followed Tyrael into the back chamber of the cavern. As they passed over the threshold, what had once been darkness was instead replaced by the dull, warm glow of torches. A glimpse over his shoulder revealed to Argento that they had passed through some type of perception filter—the corridor they had once been in was blackened entirely in shadows despite the presence of the burning lights.
“Your instincts are correct. That’s just a bit of theatrics to keep out anyone who may accidentally stumble into these caverns.”
More shadows and subterfuge…
“Is this your base of operations?” Argento inquired as he turned to see that, despite being inside a mountain of some sort, this chamber was decorated much like one of the nice homes in Darkshire. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, and the floor was covered in a rug that matched the bookshelves and tables. “It’s very…”
Tyrael shook his head as he came to a stop at a table. “This is just one of our many safehouses. We have dozens, possibly a hundred. We never use one for longer than a few weeks.”
“Makes sense.”
Much to Argento’s surprise, the next remark cut straight to the point of it all: “Why did you find me, Argento Camarinos?”
“Legends say you know the way out of this place. A method that doesn’t go through the Lord of Terror,” the paladin replied. “I heard the whispers while I was in the pit. Are they true?”
While he initially seemed more interested in the blank top of his table, the man lifted up his eyes and gave a simple nod. “There is a way, yes.”
Argento was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. “What’s the price?”
Tyrael snapped his fingers and the surface of the table bubbled upward as if it had been superheated. In a matter of moments, a replica of a structure Argento knew quite intimately had formed from the wood. While some of the details weren’t perfect, it would be clear to anyone that it was the blood pits. The colosseum that dominated the Central Hellscape.
“I want you to go back, Argento Camarinos.”
With a sack tight over his face, Argento had been ushered for nearly an hour and a half through a variety of different climates and altitudes. When he could finally see clearly, he noticed that his final destination was someplace either underground or deep in a mountain. The walls seemed to indicate that the area was natural, so perhaps he was in a secluded cavern.
From the far end of the chamber, a figure wreathed in a pale glow stepped out from the darkness of a connecting room. The six individuals around Argento dropped to their knees and lowered their heads as the cloaked individual strode forward to meet the new arrival.
“Welcome, Argento Camarinos, Chosen of the Sun.” Although the entity stood just a few feet in front of the paladin, Tyrael’s voice sounded disembodied as it filled the dank air of the cavern. “I have long looked forward to making your acquaintance.”
Argento placed a hand atop his heart and nodded his head. “The feeling is mutual. Your story is legend in the world above.”
Lifting a pair of hands sheated in heavy gloves, Tyrael pushed back his hood. As the shadows fell away to reveal the visage of the fabled figure, the once unnatural glow that suffused the air around the warrior simply ceased to exist—as if it never had. Underneath the heavy shadows of the hood, there was the grizzled and gently scarred countenance of a bald man with dark skin. The presence of his visage elicited a subtle shift of Argento’s features that his new acquaintance was quick to notice.
“Is this not what you had pictured, Argento Camarinos?”
The paladin paused for a moment before simply tilting his head. “The stories made you out to be something more like a…”
“Angel?”
Argento nodded. “Aye, something like that.”
“Legends are like that, Argento. Folk heroes are never just men—they have to be larger-than-life, lest they be easily forgotten to history.”
Understanding the words of the man, the holy warrior just gave another nod.
“You have worked alongside my legion for countless months… How does that make you feel?”
There was pregnant pause. In that moment, Argento made a decision to follow his heart and speak
“Your operation is devoid of honor and justice. You strike in the dead of night and from the back. There is no valor in what you do.”
Gasps could be heard around the paladin, but the mythic figure who stood before him remained seemingly unaffected by the remarks.
“I am the most wanted man in the Underverse. Those who serve me and fall into the custody of the Lord of Terror suffer fates worse than torture and death, Argento. Our very existence, regardless of the means through which we fight back, is valorous. Would you have use senselessly charge into the Chaos Sanctuary, guns blazing, and throw away our lives for nothing?”
The paladin had no rebuttal, because he knew that Tyrael spoke the truth. “I did not say your mission was without value, Tyrael.”
“Of course,” the warrior replied as he motioned for the others to leave. “Follow me, Argento.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, the devotee of the Glorious Sun followed Tyrael into the back chamber of the cavern. As they passed over the threshold, what had once been darkness was instead replaced by the dull, warm glow of torches. A glimpse over his shoulder revealed to Argento that they had passed through some type of perception filter—the corridor they had once been in was blackened entirely in shadows despite the presence of the burning lights.
“Your instincts are correct. That’s just a bit of theatrics to keep out anyone who may accidentally stumble into these caverns.”
More shadows and subterfuge…
“Is this your base of operations?” Argento inquired as he turned to see that, despite being inside a mountain of some sort, this chamber was decorated much like one of the nice homes in Darkshire. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, and the floor was covered in a rug that matched the bookshelves and tables. “It’s very…”
Tyrael shook his head as he came to a stop at a table. “This is just one of our many safehouses. We have dozens, possibly a hundred. We never use one for longer than a few weeks.”
“Makes sense.”
Much to Argento’s surprise, the next remark cut straight to the point of it all: “Why did you find me, Argento Camarinos?”
“Legends say you know the way out of this place. A method that doesn’t go through the Lord of Terror,” the paladin replied. “I heard the whispers while I was in the pit. Are they true?”
While he initially seemed more interested in the blank top of his table, the man lifted up his eyes and gave a simple nod. “There is a way, yes.”
Argento was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. “What’s the price?”
Tyrael snapped his fingers and the surface of the table bubbled upward as if it had been superheated. In a matter of moments, a replica of a structure Argento knew quite intimately had formed from the wood. While some of the details weren’t perfect, it would be clear to anyone that it was the blood pits. The colosseum that dominated the Central Hellscape.
“I want you to go back, Argento Camarinos.”