Changes

==1263 Anno Khejistani==

The events of the past year are unbelievable, and have driven me to write again my thoughts. No matter how hard I try, the facts are unavoidable: our [[King Leoric]] has gone mad, lashing out in crazed frenzy at the abduction of his son, [[Albrecht]], and our steady losses in the ill-advised war against [[Westmarch]], leading to an open revolt among our guards. There is something almost palpable in the air. It feels like...terror.

Can the old stories be true - can the tales of the brave [[Horadrim]] and the Lords of the [[Burning Hells]] be more than a legend, a fairytale told to me by my mother?

I am a fool. If I had acted sooner, if I had voiced my concerns, they would not be dead; [[Farnham]] would not be the drunken sot he now is. [[Lazarus]], supposed [[Archbishop]] of Light, has lured a group of villagers to their horrific end under the guise of searching for the king's missing son. Is he the architect of the evil that has befallen the town, or simply an unwitting pawn?

Each new terror sends more townspeople fleeing. There are only a few of us left now: [[Griswold]], [[Pepin]], [[Ogden]], [[Farnham]], the unfortunate [[Wirt]], and, of course, the fair [[Gillian]]. There is someone else, however: someone who has come, while others flee. I am not so sure what to make of this [[Adria]], who openly calls herself witch. She has access to all manner of arcane knowledge that even I do not. Why has she come here now, at this heinous time? I feel there is something amiss about her.

Every dawn seems to bring more adventurers into our midst. But none who can yet be called hero. I bide my time and continue scouring the old texts for answers. If only I had taken them more seriously, not dismissed them so lightly!

I dreamt of the death wail of a small child tonight. It tore up from the depths, shattering the windows of the decrepit [[Tristram Cathedral|cathedral]]. As I started awake, it became apparent that it was actually the shriek of [[Diablo]]'s tortured end. Unable to return to sleep after such an unsettling cry, I ventured outdoor to await the warrior's return. He finally emerged, covered in blood - much his own, much his enemies'. I am greatly relieved that he survived the ordeal, and that these horrible events are now in our past. But my mind is troubled, for could this not have been avoided id I had not dismissed my legacy so lightly?

I have never seen [[Tristram]] bursting with such joy as in the weeks since [[Diablo]]'s defeat. The town's quiet, brooding hero, whom I am proud to call friend, has humbly endured these celebrations. Yet it seems clear to me that the scars he gained beneath [[Tristram Cathedral|the church]] run deeper than those upon his skin and may have changed him forever. I have offered counsel, but he remains distant. Time, perhaps, is the only thing that may heal him.

How could I have been so blind? I believed my friend's melancholy to be a natural reaction to the horrors he had lived. How could I not have seen that he carried within him the very being of [[Diablo]]? After brooding for weeks, he finally slipped away in the night. Perhaps he has gone to "the east" that he so often woke screaming about in the days following his victory over the [[Lord of Terror]].

The cold of the northern mountains chills me to my old and weary bones. [[Baal]]'s army holds the mountains passes from our haven in [[Harrogath]] all the way to the summit. The honor, strength and dedication of my companions never cease to amaze me. They are even now braving the [[demon]]s and snow to reach Baal himself. Rumours of betrayal swirl through the town. This time, we must not be too late.

It seems we are cursed. Even in victory, we face defeat. Although the heroes destroyed [[Baal]], the [[angel]] [[Tyrael]] has delivered grave news. An object of great power that he calls the [[Worldstone]] was held in secret at the [[Arreat Summit|mountain's summit]], and it had been corrupted by Baal. He believes the only option open to him is to destroy it. I know too little of this Worldstone and what powers it may hold to guess what might come of this, but I fear our actions may scar the world in ways we cannot know. I pray Tyrael is making the right choice.