Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Sanctuary ❯ The Beginning of the End (or...) ( Prologue )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: ironneko 
Anime/Manga: Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Martial Arts / Supernatural / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 11.11.2005 | Updated On: 01.26.2006 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.5K | Visits: 1.2K | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Martial Arts / Supernatural / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 11.11.2005 | Updated On: 01.26.2006 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.5K | Visits: 1.2K | Status: Completed
Sanctuary
by Ironneko
Disclaimer: Diablo 2 belongs to Blizzard, Ranma 1/2 to Takahashi Rumiko.
" " denotes speech
' ' denotes thoughts
Prologue, part two: The Beginning of the End (or is it The End of the Beginning?)
----------------------------------
Pain.
Both physical and emotional pain coursed through the young man sprawled across the ground.
'Dead.'
Ranma was too engrossed in his own thoughts to notice where he had ended up after the clash of mystic energies that resulted from his battle with Saffron.
'She's dead.'
As it was... the teen was still trying to cope with the mind-numbing changes that had ocurred in his life these past few minutes.
'She's just... dead.'
The image of the small porcelain doll, twisting through the air and falling towards the unmarked spring. The resounding splash, a sound that would echo within the recesses of his mind for years to come. The sound that marked the end of something that had never truly began for him.
Sheer disbelief at the sight of the fragile figurine bursting apart into millions of fragments due to the strain from crashing against the surface tension of the water.
'How can she be dead?'
The woman he loved. The woman he had always loved, ever since that first time she had offered her friendship. Ever since that first time shehwad welcomed him into her home.
'She just can't be dead... can she?'
The woman who would never smile for him again. The woman who would never know... just how much he loved her.
'Why did she die?'
Had Ranma been more aware of his surroundings, he might have been a little disturbed by the manner of place he had ended up in.
The Blood Moor had always been the home of zombies and poisonous quill rats. Monsters that enjoyed feasting on human flesh every once in a while, and roamed the land in search of prey.
There had also been reports from the sisterhood of Rogues that lived near the cursed land, of groups of demons that had formed camps all over the place.
One of such creatures had been approaching the distracted fighter with every intention of having a well cooked human steak for dinner that night.
It paused a prudent distance away from his chosen pray and decided to study his soon-to-be-meal a bit more.
The fallen ones were not particularly known for having advanced deduction powers, but this one just knew, deep down inside, that it would not be a smart move to bother the human right now.
The unhealthy black aura that simply bled power onto the surroundings from within the pigtailed teenager's own soul might have had something to do with the small demon's decision.
'Why couldn't I... save her?'
He knew that something had changed inside him. He felt... different. As if some part of his basic self had been modified in some unknown way.
Right now though, he couldn't care less.
As Ranma wallowed in his despair, the small fallen one had made his way back to its camp and informed the resident shaman of the strange occurrence. Some basic survival skills were ingrained into every creature, such as "strength in numbers".
The shaman was surprised upon hearing of the glowing boy. Possessing a better-developed brain than most of the other cannon fodder, it tried to relate the tale to whatever general knowledge it possessed about such things.
Lots of people glowed, the shaman reasoned. 'Witches glow. White and red and blue. Animal-men glow sometimes, like fog. Barbarians glow, when scream.'
The shaman was having trouble with this discovery. The Paladins had a wide range of coloured auras... but none ever glowed black.
'No matter, silly trick. We kill anyway,' it finally decided, having exhausted himself due to the mental effort required to actually think about a problem, rather that just smashing a way through it.
So it was that the shaman put together a small hunting party, no more than eight other fallen ones, and set off towards the, still glowing, teen.
Ranma's aura grew larger by the minute, as he recalled every siongle happy experience he had enjoyed while living in Nerima. All the memories came coupled together with the pain of loss. His depression and despair were feeding his inhumanly large reserves of chi, as his mind kept drawing closed to the edge.
He finally spotted the approaching demons, who were closing in by the second as they prepared to finish off the strange human.
He laughed at that point. No mirth whatsoever invaded the hollow sound of an empty shell of a man, who had nothing more to live for.
"So you wanna kill me? Maybe that's the way... It ain't like I'm gettin' my honour back anyway. Might as well die a coward's death."
The fallen shaman saw its prey slump his shoulders in defeat and was visibly delighted while the hunting party kept the hasty pace towards the boy.
'Better when food no fight. Meat is softer, easier to eat.'
It would be wrong to say the shaman was overconfident. The truth was, it was too ignorant to have any trust in his abilities. It just lived by instinct, and instinct told it this battle was over before it began.
As it turned out, instinct had been correct, the little, red, man-like creature had just failed to comprehend the message.
As the rusted blades neared his body, Ranma let go of every single negative emotion that had wracked his soul ever since he had engaged the phoenix god in mortal combat.
The release came with a deafening whisper.
"Perfect Shi Shi Hokoudan..."
---------------------------------------
The woman looked in complete shock as the monstrous energy column rose into the air, devastating part of the Blood Moor and destroying the silence that had reigned within the chambers with a thunderous boom.
'What in the name of Terror was that???' she mentally screamed as her mystical senses indicated power of a magnitude that escaped the boundaries of reason.
'What can be so powerful?' she thought to herself as she immediately cloaked herself in some robes while dashing towards the Outer Cloister. She needed to know what had happened.
An event of this magnitude could not go overlooked and damn her if she was going to be further surprised by this phenomenon.
Muttering a myriad of curses, the Maiden cautiously activated the Way Gate and concentrated on the Blood Moor.
Hoping whatever she'd encounter wouldn't take her any more by surprise, she stepped into the magical apparatus and vanished with a blink of light.
---------------------------------------
As odd as it may have been, Ranma felt strangely at ease, while standing amongst the remains of the small band of demons. Blood, flesh and bones were strewn all around him, and yet... there was something harmonious about the whole scene. As if some sort of balance had been tilted in the correct way in some small measure.
It was then that the implications of what he had just done actually broke through the haze the previous encounter had generated within his mind, and he fell to his knees in a panic.
It was the smell that ultimately caused it. Now that his mind had caught up to what his body had done, the impact was too much for the young man to swallow as he violently retched onto the damp grass of the Blood Moor.
He finally calmed himself enough to sit back down after the last two dry heaves.
An errant breeze passed by, and Ranma's hair fluttered freely in the wind. The dragon's whisker lay charred beyond recognition, somewhere between the scorched debris that remained after the blast. The teen realised that his hair was not growing anymore, and assumed the effect of the magical potion he had ingested years before had finally worn off.
He passed his hands through his unbidden locks, pushing aside the white barrier that obstructed his view.
'Wait a sec. White?'
The young man forcefully grabbed a fistful of hair and determined both that it was his own hair, and that indeed it had gone from its previous midnight black colour to ashen white.
This was all proving to be very alarming for the young man, who decided he needed to sit down and find his center before attempting to deal with everything that had happened so far.
He did not notice, as he moved into a cross-legged position, how unnaturally unaffected he seemed, once again, about the amount of death that surrounded him.
Ranma entered into a meditative trance, as he focused his being and his inner energies into harmony. Or at least, that was what he attempted anyway. His chi felt... off. It was different in an indescribable way, he could not feel it very clearly.
The fighter concentrated his efforts into studying this anomaly and had been exercising his will for a few minutes when the most astonishing thing happened.
One of the few corpses that were left mostly intact had begun to move of its own accord.
Ranma immediately set his sight on the wobbling cadaver as the parts inside the flesh rearranged spontaneously.
Suddenly, the body exploded, and from within the dead confines rose something that would have made many grown men faint.
The teen, however, couldn't help but stare in morbid fascination, as the collection of body parts coalesced into a fully formed human skeleton.
The construct stood motionless. A veritable bone statue that stared strainght at Ranma.
'It's like it's waiting for something.' An idea popped into his head right then. 'Could it be waiting for orders? From me?'
He decided to test this theory and was shocked senseless as the skeleton proceeded to sit down, after recieving the mental order to do so.
The shock was too much for Ranma's mind at the time and he lost his hold over his chi. The skeleton immediately fell apart into millions of fragments once again, as the power that anchored its form had been withdrawn.
"Amazing," a female voice interrupted Ranma's musings as a figure slowly came into focus as it neared the circle of bodies, "simply amazing. I never thought I'd see such skills in a Necromancer of your age."
The fighter turned just as the mysterious woman walked into the light. Beauty beyond compare met Ranma's eyes as he looked upon an absolutely stunning example of womanhood. Long, chestnut-coloured hair cascaded down the slightly tanned woman's back as a set of tight robes hugged her sensuous curves.
He broke out of his stupor once he recalled the word she had used.
"Necromancer? I'm Ranma Saotome, a martial artist! Not a necrosomething!"
The woman was taken aback by this revelation. Could this boy be telling the truth?
It was preposterous to even think it. No one could be so in tune with the Balance without receiving training from a true Priest of Rathma. But what if... one could?
If this boy... no... Not boy, but man. If this man were to be trained by one proficient in the knowledge of the black arts, he could go very far. And she would profit from such a person.
"I can help you develop your skills in ways you can only imagine. You would be able to bend spirits to your will, devise the most powerful poisons. And, perhaps, even cheat death."
The woman seemed possessed, as if some uncontrollable desire had suddenly taken hold of her.
"What??"
Ranma was stunned. Did this mean he could be with Akane again? Would he really be able to hold her in his arms again?
"It is said that the most powerful of Necromancers have the ability to ressurect others from death. Let me help you become all that you can be, Ranma."
"So I could see Akane again?" Hope blossomed once again in the eyes of the young warrior.
"Yes. If you become powerful enough, not even death can keep you from her." She assumed he meant a woman, as most men usually did.
The woman closed the distance between them and stretched her hand out to the confused teen. Ranma hesitated, only for a second.
'To be with Akane again... I would do anything. No. I will do everything.'
They slowly began walking towards the Way Gate, and Ranma turned to look upon the devastation he had caused. If he could learn to harness this new power, he would be closer to his goal.
"What's your name?" he asked as they stepped into the magical construct.
"Andariel" she answered.
--------------------------------------
Author's notes:
Well, this is a second prologue. It's not long enough to be considered a first chapter and it is the introduction of our main character into this new and hostile world.
I want to get this out of the way now. I've changed the fic to "M" and have set a derk warning. As with the actual story of Diablo 2, this will be bloddy and dark, and somewhat gruesome. If you don't like it, well, then. I'm sorry, but that is the mood the original story has, so that's the way I'm going.
Things will get interesting right? I mean, Ranma taking classes from the Maiden of Anguish? I honestly want to know how many of you guessed who she was.
Well, as always, time is a privilege I cannot indulge in often, so I took my time with this. I really like writing this one and have been rather surprised at the good response I've gotten.
I'm gonna finish TSS before continuing this, but I think I'll add some more to AGDM as well.
Anyway, comments, criticism, flames, whatever, e-mail me at: ironneko@hotmail.com or ironneko@yahoo.com.ar (Ff. Net, check profile for e-mails)
PS: Yes, I've changed my nickname, but it is still me.
by Ironneko
Disclaimer: Diablo 2 belongs to Blizzard, Ranma 1/2 to Takahashi Rumiko.
" " denotes speech
' ' denotes thoughts
Prologue, part two: The Beginning of the End (or is it The End of the Beginning?)
----------------------------------
Pain.
Both physical and emotional pain coursed through the young man sprawled across the ground.
'Dead.'
Ranma was too engrossed in his own thoughts to notice where he had ended up after the clash of mystic energies that resulted from his battle with Saffron.
'She's dead.'
As it was... the teen was still trying to cope with the mind-numbing changes that had ocurred in his life these past few minutes.
'She's just... dead.'
The image of the small porcelain doll, twisting through the air and falling towards the unmarked spring. The resounding splash, a sound that would echo within the recesses of his mind for years to come. The sound that marked the end of something that had never truly began for him.
Sheer disbelief at the sight of the fragile figurine bursting apart into millions of fragments due to the strain from crashing against the surface tension of the water.
'How can she be dead?'
The woman he loved. The woman he had always loved, ever since that first time she had offered her friendship. Ever since that first time shehwad welcomed him into her home.
'She just can't be dead... can she?'
The woman who would never smile for him again. The woman who would never know... just how much he loved her.
'Why did she die?'
Had Ranma been more aware of his surroundings, he might have been a little disturbed by the manner of place he had ended up in.
The Blood Moor had always been the home of zombies and poisonous quill rats. Monsters that enjoyed feasting on human flesh every once in a while, and roamed the land in search of prey.
There had also been reports from the sisterhood of Rogues that lived near the cursed land, of groups of demons that had formed camps all over the place.
One of such creatures had been approaching the distracted fighter with every intention of having a well cooked human steak for dinner that night.
It paused a prudent distance away from his chosen pray and decided to study his soon-to-be-meal a bit more.
The fallen ones were not particularly known for having advanced deduction powers, but this one just knew, deep down inside, that it would not be a smart move to bother the human right now.
The unhealthy black aura that simply bled power onto the surroundings from within the pigtailed teenager's own soul might have had something to do with the small demon's decision.
'Why couldn't I... save her?'
He knew that something had changed inside him. He felt... different. As if some part of his basic self had been modified in some unknown way.
Right now though, he couldn't care less.
As Ranma wallowed in his despair, the small fallen one had made his way back to its camp and informed the resident shaman of the strange occurrence. Some basic survival skills were ingrained into every creature, such as "strength in numbers".
The shaman was surprised upon hearing of the glowing boy. Possessing a better-developed brain than most of the other cannon fodder, it tried to relate the tale to whatever general knowledge it possessed about such things.
Lots of people glowed, the shaman reasoned. 'Witches glow. White and red and blue. Animal-men glow sometimes, like fog. Barbarians glow, when scream.'
The shaman was having trouble with this discovery. The Paladins had a wide range of coloured auras... but none ever glowed black.
'No matter, silly trick. We kill anyway,' it finally decided, having exhausted himself due to the mental effort required to actually think about a problem, rather that just smashing a way through it.
So it was that the shaman put together a small hunting party, no more than eight other fallen ones, and set off towards the, still glowing, teen.
Ranma's aura grew larger by the minute, as he recalled every siongle happy experience he had enjoyed while living in Nerima. All the memories came coupled together with the pain of loss. His depression and despair were feeding his inhumanly large reserves of chi, as his mind kept drawing closed to the edge.
He finally spotted the approaching demons, who were closing in by the second as they prepared to finish off the strange human.
He laughed at that point. No mirth whatsoever invaded the hollow sound of an empty shell of a man, who had nothing more to live for.
"So you wanna kill me? Maybe that's the way... It ain't like I'm gettin' my honour back anyway. Might as well die a coward's death."
The fallen shaman saw its prey slump his shoulders in defeat and was visibly delighted while the hunting party kept the hasty pace towards the boy.
'Better when food no fight. Meat is softer, easier to eat.'
It would be wrong to say the shaman was overconfident. The truth was, it was too ignorant to have any trust in his abilities. It just lived by instinct, and instinct told it this battle was over before it began.
As it turned out, instinct had been correct, the little, red, man-like creature had just failed to comprehend the message.
As the rusted blades neared his body, Ranma let go of every single negative emotion that had wracked his soul ever since he had engaged the phoenix god in mortal combat.
The release came with a deafening whisper.
"Perfect Shi Shi Hokoudan..."
---------------------------------------
The woman looked in complete shock as the monstrous energy column rose into the air, devastating part of the Blood Moor and destroying the silence that had reigned within the chambers with a thunderous boom.
'What in the name of Terror was that???' she mentally screamed as her mystical senses indicated power of a magnitude that escaped the boundaries of reason.
'What can be so powerful?' she thought to herself as she immediately cloaked herself in some robes while dashing towards the Outer Cloister. She needed to know what had happened.
An event of this magnitude could not go overlooked and damn her if she was going to be further surprised by this phenomenon.
Muttering a myriad of curses, the Maiden cautiously activated the Way Gate and concentrated on the Blood Moor.
Hoping whatever she'd encounter wouldn't take her any more by surprise, she stepped into the magical apparatus and vanished with a blink of light.
---------------------------------------
As odd as it may have been, Ranma felt strangely at ease, while standing amongst the remains of the small band of demons. Blood, flesh and bones were strewn all around him, and yet... there was something harmonious about the whole scene. As if some sort of balance had been tilted in the correct way in some small measure.
It was then that the implications of what he had just done actually broke through the haze the previous encounter had generated within his mind, and he fell to his knees in a panic.
It was the smell that ultimately caused it. Now that his mind had caught up to what his body had done, the impact was too much for the young man to swallow as he violently retched onto the damp grass of the Blood Moor.
He finally calmed himself enough to sit back down after the last two dry heaves.
An errant breeze passed by, and Ranma's hair fluttered freely in the wind. The dragon's whisker lay charred beyond recognition, somewhere between the scorched debris that remained after the blast. The teen realised that his hair was not growing anymore, and assumed the effect of the magical potion he had ingested years before had finally worn off.
He passed his hands through his unbidden locks, pushing aside the white barrier that obstructed his view.
'Wait a sec. White?'
The young man forcefully grabbed a fistful of hair and determined both that it was his own hair, and that indeed it had gone from its previous midnight black colour to ashen white.
This was all proving to be very alarming for the young man, who decided he needed to sit down and find his center before attempting to deal with everything that had happened so far.
He did not notice, as he moved into a cross-legged position, how unnaturally unaffected he seemed, once again, about the amount of death that surrounded him.
Ranma entered into a meditative trance, as he focused his being and his inner energies into harmony. Or at least, that was what he attempted anyway. His chi felt... off. It was different in an indescribable way, he could not feel it very clearly.
The fighter concentrated his efforts into studying this anomaly and had been exercising his will for a few minutes when the most astonishing thing happened.
One of the few corpses that were left mostly intact had begun to move of its own accord.
Ranma immediately set his sight on the wobbling cadaver as the parts inside the flesh rearranged spontaneously.
Suddenly, the body exploded, and from within the dead confines rose something that would have made many grown men faint.
The teen, however, couldn't help but stare in morbid fascination, as the collection of body parts coalesced into a fully formed human skeleton.
The construct stood motionless. A veritable bone statue that stared strainght at Ranma.
'It's like it's waiting for something.' An idea popped into his head right then. 'Could it be waiting for orders? From me?'
He decided to test this theory and was shocked senseless as the skeleton proceeded to sit down, after recieving the mental order to do so.
The shock was too much for Ranma's mind at the time and he lost his hold over his chi. The skeleton immediately fell apart into millions of fragments once again, as the power that anchored its form had been withdrawn.
"Amazing," a female voice interrupted Ranma's musings as a figure slowly came into focus as it neared the circle of bodies, "simply amazing. I never thought I'd see such skills in a Necromancer of your age."
The fighter turned just as the mysterious woman walked into the light. Beauty beyond compare met Ranma's eyes as he looked upon an absolutely stunning example of womanhood. Long, chestnut-coloured hair cascaded down the slightly tanned woman's back as a set of tight robes hugged her sensuous curves.
He broke out of his stupor once he recalled the word she had used.
"Necromancer? I'm Ranma Saotome, a martial artist! Not a necrosomething!"
The woman was taken aback by this revelation. Could this boy be telling the truth?
It was preposterous to even think it. No one could be so in tune with the Balance without receiving training from a true Priest of Rathma. But what if... one could?
If this boy... no... Not boy, but man. If this man were to be trained by one proficient in the knowledge of the black arts, he could go very far. And she would profit from such a person.
"I can help you develop your skills in ways you can only imagine. You would be able to bend spirits to your will, devise the most powerful poisons. And, perhaps, even cheat death."
The woman seemed possessed, as if some uncontrollable desire had suddenly taken hold of her.
"What??"
Ranma was stunned. Did this mean he could be with Akane again? Would he really be able to hold her in his arms again?
"It is said that the most powerful of Necromancers have the ability to ressurect others from death. Let me help you become all that you can be, Ranma."
"So I could see Akane again?" Hope blossomed once again in the eyes of the young warrior.
"Yes. If you become powerful enough, not even death can keep you from her." She assumed he meant a woman, as most men usually did.
The woman closed the distance between them and stretched her hand out to the confused teen. Ranma hesitated, only for a second.
'To be with Akane again... I would do anything. No. I will do everything.'
They slowly began walking towards the Way Gate, and Ranma turned to look upon the devastation he had caused. If he could learn to harness this new power, he would be closer to his goal.
"What's your name?" he asked as they stepped into the magical construct.
"Andariel" she answered.
--------------------------------------
Author's notes:
Well, this is a second prologue. It's not long enough to be considered a first chapter and it is the introduction of our main character into this new and hostile world.
I want to get this out of the way now. I've changed the fic to "M" and have set a derk warning. As with the actual story of Diablo 2, this will be bloddy and dark, and somewhat gruesome. If you don't like it, well, then. I'm sorry, but that is the mood the original story has, so that's the way I'm going.
Things will get interesting right? I mean, Ranma taking classes from the Maiden of Anguish? I honestly want to know how many of you guessed who she was.
Well, as always, time is a privilege I cannot indulge in often, so I took my time with this. I really like writing this one and have been rather surprised at the good response I've gotten.
I'm gonna finish TSS before continuing this, but I think I'll add some more to AGDM as well.
Anyway, comments, criticism, flames, whatever, e-mail me at: ironneko@hotmail.com or ironneko@yahoo.com.ar (Ff. Net, check profile for e-mails)
PS: Yes, I've changed my nickname, but it is still me.