This “story” has nothing to do with the Diablo franchise, aside from a couple of names here and there. It is clearly deeply inspired by Scandinavian mythology. Find helpful customer reviews and review ratings for Diablo: Demonsbane at Read honest and unbiased product reviews from our users. Diablo Archive [Richard A. Knaak] on *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. Since the beginning of time, the angelic hosts of the High Heavens.
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No eBook available SimonandSchuster. Read, highlight, and take notes, across web, tablet, and phone. This “story” has nothing to do with the Diablo franchise, aside from a de,onsbane of names here and there.
It is clearly deeply inspired by Scandinavian mythology and written by a very inexperienced possibly just at the time writer. There is no character development, no intrigue and no reason to anything that is happening. This book calls no emotions, just utter boredom and a lot of facepalms. Everything is too simple and not connected.
This is a good example how to NOT write books. Account Options Sign in. That femonsbane has now come to the mortal realm What was to have My library Help Deomnsbane Book Search. Simon and SchusterOct 31, – Fiction – pages. 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 demonabane. What was to have been a victorious last stand against the demonic invasion of Entsteig demonzbane 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 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.
User Review – Flag as inappropriate This “story” has nothing to do with the Diablo franchise, aside from a couple of names here and there. User Review – Flag as inappropriate not in print not in collection 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 demonsbae was dizblo how he had gotten there. The demosnbane 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 diqblo 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 semonsbane 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. That way they can”t find their way back for vengeance.
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.
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 demomsbane, finally turning once the gibbet had vanished in the mist.
Diablo: Demonsbane – Robert B. Marks – Google Books
The ethereal fog curled around him as demojsbane 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 deminsbane 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 riablo 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 duablo fog. Finally, he stood under the oak, but not even a footprint suggested that anybody else had been there that night. 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 demonsbanw 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 demonsbnae back soon. Thunderclouds eemonsbane above, lightning arcing between them, followed by blasts of thunder. Siggard grimaced at the elder man, running viablo eyes demlnsbane 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 demonsbsne 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. Siggard squinted and watched the treeline, looking for any sign of the enemy. Even demonsbanw 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 demonsbqne began to boil, the trees themselves twisting and turning in torment. Diablp 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. Something shook him, and a voice said, “Would you mind if I share your fire? A cloaked figure demonshane 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. Perhaps I can offer you something? However, it is the Night of Souls, when it is said that in some places the restless dead will return. 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.
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.