Suma Mandalapu

It had been a long journey, so many days of searching and slaughtering, so many sleepless nights warding off evil demons and camping in the degraded feral lands, so many hours of constant combat, and those few minatory instances when she came face to face with death. She sighed. It had all been for this single purpose, to get to Andariel.

The long hours of hunting made her strong and more willed and only increased her predilection for the immediate quest at hand. She closed her eyes for a moment. Her hand gripped harder the bow she held.

Dumaire was lost in thoughts for a while.

How would have her life been had she not chosen the path she did? She did not falter when the Rogues asked her for help. Admittedly, she herself was not involved in the Great War.  The Dark Wanderer was not her concern; she and her little duchy remained safe and secluded from the rampant corruption until one day. That fateful day changed her destiny forever. The Black Mages suddenly appeared and destroyed everything that was in sight. Within hours, all of her duchy was in fires, falling apart and all her servants and trusted soldiers dead. Barely alive herself, she reached the Rogue Encampment. Debile because of her injuries and barely able to move, Dumaire listened to the stories Akara told her. After she recovered, Dumaire along with the other warriors who had found themselves estranged at the Encampment resolved to follow the stories and find out about the truth.

The truth had been overwhelming.

Diablo was back.

She would not have believed it had she not rescued Cain from Tristram. She then followed the lead and fought all the way from the Cold Plains, through the Dark Woods, across the Black Marshes, along the Tamoe Highland and finally found herself in the debased Monastery. The monsters that occupied the Monastery had been more difficult to hunt than the ones before and she knew she was close to one of the Lesser Evils but it was not particularly goading to learn that the main daimon she was after, was still far from her reach. After another long search, occasionally with the fear that her attempts might go in vain, she found herself at the Catacombs. Somewhere in these Catacombs was one of the four Lesser Evils, Andariel.

Andariel, more famous as the Maiden of Anguish had long been an adherent of Diablo and had guarded the paths that led him East. Only after vanquishing her could Dumaire follow the trails of the Dark Wanderer. From the stories she heard, Andariel was not anything like she had encountered till now and Dumaire knew she had seen and fought worst nightmares anyone could ever imagine—from undead demons to corrupt archers, from Tainted disfigured Brutes to the fallen lords of yester yore, from infected monsters to the vicious Moon Clan; she had seen a lot but a lot was yet to be uncovered. Andariel, according to the lore, would be three times her size, with brutal tentacles that could be lethal, injecting poison, and that she was resistant to most magic and could easily kill any warrior however strong or skilled they might be. Dumaire, being a sorceress, knew this would not be easy. After all, magic was her strong point; but she had learnt a lot in her quests for the Wanderer. She knew she was of small size and most didn’t really reckon her as a true warrior but she knew better; her presentment only belied her unfeigned rebellious nature. She was a survivor, she had been one all this time in this savage world, and she would survive this one as well.

The Duchess of Almairna took a deep breath. A few months back she would have flinched at her horrendous surroundings—corpses of the wraiths and undead she slayed, the stench of evil and decrepit blood all around and the grotesque structure of the Catacombs; she would have done more than just flinch. But now, she has to face her nemesis at hand. Summoning all her courage and strength she took the step forward.

This was the time for justice and retribution.