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Hunter's Snare	By : canis-magus Category: +A through F > Diablo III Views: 7725 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo III, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Arreat Crater
- 2-Daughters of Cydaea
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Vaughan wiped the sweat from his forehead for the hundredth time and rubbed the sting from his eyes, almost considering freeing himself of the heavy hood of his cloak. The heat here was nigh-unbearable, but this was no time to let down his guard.
Hearing the now familiar roar of an impending blast, Vaughan somersaulted past a demonic forge, deftly avoiding the gout of flame that followed. He had lost one of his twin hand-crossbows to one of those damned things -- knocked from his hand by the whipping tongue of a lasher demon into the furnace's path right as it vented its searing blaze. He had strangled that demon, throttling it with its own severed tongue.
Thanks to his arsenal of seemingly infinite daggers and snares he scarcely felt the loss; still, it wouldn't happen again.
Arreat Crater. This place blazed with the fury of sundered earth, and reeked of the evil that now inhabited -- and comprised -- it. Somewhere within, there was said to be a tower within a chasm. Vaughan would find that tower.
Azmodan, the Lord of Sin, was down here, of that Vaughan had no doubts. The nearer the hunter drew to the core of the crater, the stronger the evil emanation grew, and the harder it became for him to shield his mind against the Lesser Evil's mental probing. The demon's telepathy clawed with building urgency and determination at the brink of his consciousness, taunting and threatening. Vaughan knew better than to give any thought to these empty promises of death: Azmodan sounded desperate to him, perhaps knowing the hunter drew near with bolts and blades and explosives to strike down his wicked dominion.
The hunter moved swiftly through the crater's passages, and with silence that was broken only by the subtle but deadly clicks of his remaining hand-crossbow as he loosed countless bolts to slay demon after demon that dared to stand in his path. Though he desired to hunt down every last unholy minion that cowered within the crater's recesses, he could not relent in his pursuit. Once the Lord of Sin lay vanquished, then -- and only then -- could he slake his hatred in the slaughter of the lesser hordes.
The crater wouldn't make his passage easy, however. Flame burst from churning forges, thick blood and magma gushed sickeningly from eldritch structures at his approach, tunnels spiraled in on themselves, leading nowhere. More than once he found himself cornered in a dead end, but his projectiles easily found their way into the hearts, into the throats, or between the eyes of his foes. Girded by hatred and discipline, he pressed on.

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At last, the ash-choked passage opened up into a wide cavern, and Vaughan paused to clear his lungs and take in his surroundings. It was considerably cooler here thanks to its vastness and openness, though still terribly warm. The terrain seemed to be a strange amalgamation of carved stone and blackened sinew, but was in stark contrast to the grisly bone and stretched flesh that shaped the chambers he had just left behind. It was also constructed with more purpose, unlike the seemingly random tunnels behind him. This place was more like a bridge... or a tower.

He had found Azmodan's stronghold, of that he was sure. But this was no time to celebrate.

The way ahead was maybe twelve feet wide, but dropped off sharply on either side. On one side of the span he could see a lower level of what looked like the same path. Out of reach. He sucked in a breath as he assessed the distance -- if he was to lose his footing, he'd never make it. As for the other side---

Magma glowed far, far below, lending a dim and eerie light to the hazy darkness of the surrounding abyss. Vaughan spied a huge chain rising up from several feet below; his eye followed it upward and in the haze he could discern what looked like a colossal humanoid looming -- bound? -- at its end. The being lurched abruptly, letting out a hollow, echoing groan. As it swayed nearer, Vaughan could see that much of the being's flesh had been stripped away; massive stakes bolted its hands to its shoulders. A huge metal plate covered the upper half of its face, but its mouth was transfixed in a grimace of unspeakable agony. The gruesome sight sent a shiver of revulsion rippling through the hunter, but he struggled to tear his gaze from it.

Vaughan stiffened as his ear caught a peculiar sound, a shift in air pressure as an object suddenly filled an empty space. He froze, looking and listening, and the sound happened again, somewhere just out of reach. This time, he saw just a glimpse of a hulking creature as it winked in and out of sight, trying to sneak behind the hunter.

He cursed as he whirled, launching a volley of bolts at the towering mass of muscle, teeth, and steel glaives that was now in full sight, its illusion gone. It advanced with a menacing slash of one of its weapons and Vaughan sprang backward, scattering spiked snares in its path. His eyes darted to the left and right, gauging his position -- he had barely another foot to retreat before the ledge dropped off into nothingness, and had to act quickly, decisively. His snares bought him time, latching onto both the ground and the demon's soles, but still the demon brought down its glaives with deadly reach.

Dodging the clashing weapons, Vaughan hurled a dagger toward the demon's face. The monstrous creature reeled just long enough for him to produce a mechanized bola from his cloak and fling it at the enemy. The demon recovered and let out a vengeful bellow, heedless of the device coiling around its thickly muscled neck. It tore its feet from the hooked snares and smashed a glaive into the ground beside Vaughan, cornering the hunter against the abyss. Raising its other glaive and watching the crouching hunter lift an arm to shield his face, it roared again and---

With a resounding blast the bola exploded, effectively decapitating the demon. A chunk of its skull hurtled into the chasm along with scattered teeth and hunks of gore. The lifeless form slumped backward and yet remained upright, rooted in place by its weapon embedded in the ground.

Unscathed yet shaken, Vaughan got to his feet and brushed himself off. He cursed again and steadied his breath, and his heart. Fear had no place in him. Neither fear of demons nor fear of..

Heights.

He strode past the demon corpse and peered once again out over the edge of the path. While he could see the span winding below on one side, the outer side was as dark and hazy as ever. Another groan echoed across the chasm.

The hunter pressed onward with cautious, brisk steps, always listening and watching -- bearing even more awareness than usual. It was quiet here, and that didn't seem right. The farther he followed the path, the more inclined he became to look over his shoulder. Yet, no more creatures appeared, and nothing seemed to be following him. Even Azmodan had ceased to infiltrate his thoughts. Still, he could not shake the feeling that he was being watched.

Suddenly, Vaughan spied a small tribe of Fallen and found himself almost relieved by the sight of them. Crossbow bolts felled three of them -- two puny goblins and one large brute -- before they were even aware of his presence. A lone shaman somewhere in their midst shrieked an order to the others and loosed a flurry of fireballs in his direction. That shaman was the next to perish, and lay in a heap before the fireballs even reached Vaughan, rocketing harmlessly past his somersaulting form. The overgrown brutes of the bunch fell next, sending the remaining underlings fleeing in terror. All but one were slain instantly; he stalked after the survivor, waiting for it to turn and face him. It kept running, singlemindedly if it had mind at all. Finally it stopped, with an audible pant, looked down, then turned around and looked up.

Vaughan smirked. "Any last words?"

A pitiful wail escaped the diminutive creature before a single bolt pierced its skull.

It was quiet again, and the stonework span continued on.

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The structure of the tower became clear to Vaughan by the time he reached the second level. Each of the wide round floors consisted of an outer ring with a couple of pathways branching inward; a stone stairway lay at the center of the floor, winding to the outer ring of the next level down.
As he descended the tower, Vaughan was becoming increasingly aware of a strange pounding in his head. It wasn't a headache -- more like an intense heartbeat, and yet it did not match his own pulse. The pounding didn't seem to fill his ears, though he wouldn't have objected if it drowned out the irritating bleating of the Blood Clan Khazra that suddenly seemed to be everywhere. Those wretched bastards were putting a whole new seethe in his hatred.
The sudden sound of a phasebeast shifting toward him made the hunter thankful for his hearing. He tensed, readying for the demon's appearance. It came into view directly in front of him, but shimmered out of sight in the same instant, leaving Vaughan's bolts to pierce nothing but empty space. Even with his quick reflexes the hunter barely had time to react when the demon reappeared at his side. Keeping his eyes on the creature he vaulted backward -- only to collide less than gracefully with the hulking form of a second phasebeast. Casting a dagger at the first, he darted away from the newcomer, fishing in his cloak for a grenade.
The two crowded him in, and once more he found himself trapped against the abyss. Fighting a mounting sense of panic, he desperately unleashed a flurry of bolts at one, and then at the other. One reared up with a deafening roar; the other drew back and struck him with the flat side of its glaive.
The force of the blow would have sent him reeling even if he had been planted on solid ground; instead he was knocked clean off the ledge. He managed to toss his grenade into their midst, and hoped it would be enough to avenge him. Plummeting backward into the abyss, he tried to spend the last of his hatred to curse those phasebeasts, and the simpering Khazra, and Azmodan, and all the lords of Hell before he was swallowed by the magma below. Instead, he plunged unwillingly through fleeting memories, as though his mind was rifling through its pain-filled contents to find some forgotten solace, some distant, happier time...
He never even heard his weapon's explosion.
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Hunter's Snare