Nico woke to a hand gently carding through his hair.
“Mrrmm?” He squinted up but the world remained stubbornly out of focus.
Fingers scratched lightly at his scalp. The sensation was so soothing it almost sent him drifting back to sleep.
“Lr’th?” He tried to ask.
“It’s me.”
Nico fought off sleep’s clutches and slowly Lorath resolved into focus. The room was still dark.
“W’time s’t?” He tried to ask.
Lorath understood anyway, “It’s early. Not yet dawn. You can sleep some more.”
Still, Nico fought to wake up. He realized he was on the couch when his neck twinged in pain. Lorath sat on the arm of the couch, leaning over him.
“What happened?” Nico asked, groggy.
“...You never came to bed.”
Oh.
He remembered getting ready for bed: stripping off his leather armor, washing up in the lavatory. Then he sat on the couch for a minute and the world had gone dark.
Nico caught Lorath’s hand and pressed a kiss to his wrist, “Sorry. Must’ve fallen asleep.”
Lorath cupped his jaw and traced a thumb across his cheek. Nico opened his arms to make space for him and pulled him close. They ended up tangled together on the (truthfully far too small for two grown men) couch.
“I’m sorry.” Lorath murmured into his neck.
Nico ran a hand down his back, feeling the ridges of his spine through the thin cotton robe. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have pushed.”
After a moment Lorath continued, “I tried searching for him. Listened for rumors of a man in angelic armor. When I went West I left letters for him in towns I thought he might pass through.”
A pause. Lorath toyed with a loose thread on Nico’s shirt.
“Would he have ever returned if not for Neyrelle’s letter? Did none of my messages reach him or was he…” Lorath paused. “...avoiding me on purpose.”
Nico could feel the way Lorath’s breath wavered. He reached up and cupped the back of his head, gently scratching the nape of his neck.
“...I thought he must have died. I used to wonder if he’d found new allies or if he was… alone in the end. I hoped he found people.”
“Lorath…”
Lorath’s voice was rough, “He’s back. He’s alive. We’ve lost so many already. Donan. Neyrelle. I should be grateful he’s returned. I am grateful he’s returned.”
“You can be grateful and still be angry.” Nico said softly.
Lorath let out a shaky breath, “The mainland is suffering and the world is in chaos again and…” He pressed his forehead against Nico’s collarbone, “...How long until he leaves again?”
Nico wished he knew what to say. But the truth was there was no guarantee Tyrael would stay. The consequences of Mephisto tainting the Pools of Creation, even only partially, would have far-reaching effects. There was every chance they might have to separate at some point.
And… if the visions Nico saw were accurate, then the fear and desire that led to Tyrael leaving the first time were still present. Nico could not offer Lorath false reassurances any more than Lorath would ever accept them. Which meant Nico would have to confront Tyrael. Find out for sure what drove him away all those years ago and figure out what it might take for him to stay this time.
But for now, Nico simply pressed a kiss to Lorath’s temple and held him close, gently massaging the back of his neck. Gradually Lorath relaxed and his breathing evened out. As always, Nico followed at his heels, even into sleep.
------
He woke again with the gentle light of dawn. Lorath was snoring softly in his ear, his arm was asleep and he could feel the stiffness in his neck from the lumpy couch, which would likely bother him for the rest of the day. All the little discomforts only highlighted the fact that this was real, no dream or illusion, and it made him smile against Lorath’s receding hairline.
Still, they definitely needed to remember the bed next time.
Nico lifted his head and met Tyrael’s eyes. Tyrael froze, standing a few feet away. Nico was relieved to see him still out of armor.
“G’ morning,” Nico whispered.
“Good morning,” Tyrael responded.
For a moment they just blinked at each other uncertainly before Tyrael stepped closer.
“Is everything alright?” Tyrael asked, glancing between Nico and Lorath, the concern clear in his voice.
Nico hummed, “...yeah, we just had some things to talk about and ended up falling asleep.”
Tyrael looked troubled, shoulders bowing under some unseen weight, and Nico realized that he knew or at least suspected what was bothering Lorath. He didn’t know whether Tyrael had overheard them, or if it was just because he knew Lorath well, but he looked at him with clear guilt and sorrow.
Nico must have shifted enough to wake Lorath because he let out a groan.
“Ugh, next time we—” Lorath’s mouth cracked open with a loud yawn, “—have to remember the bed. I’m getting too bloody old for this. Hells.” Slowly he sat up, rolling his shoulders and grumbling.
Out of the corner of his eye, Nico saw Tyrael reach out to touch Lorath’s shoulder but pull back before he made contact.
“I will… go make breakfast.” Tyrael announced, before he fled to the kitchen.
Lorath blinked at his retreat before rubbing a hand over his face, “I need to piss,” he muttered before also fleeing the room.
Right. One way or another, Nico needed to find a way to get these two to talk. Because if left solely to them it would take another two decades at least.
He stretched and then headed into the kitchen to find Tyrael standing there, staring at the little stove as if it were a demon ready to attack him.
“I think we need more wood.” Nico said.
“Pardon?” Tyrael blinked at him in surprise.
“To light it.” He said, crouching down to open the little door on the side of the stove. “Yeah, can you get some? I think there’s some in that storage cabinet. Thanks.” He placed the small logs Tyrael handed him inside the stove.
“Hmm, I don’t know where we keep matches.” Nico said, “Lorath usually lights it with magic but I never quite got the hang of fire.”
“Allow me,” Tyrael said and reached out a hand, lighting the wood ablaze.
Satisfied, Nico shut the stove door. “Thanks. It’ll take a few minutes to warm up. I think we have some eggs and cheese left over. Maybe some smoked bacon too. We could make an omelet?”
Tyrael nodded, looking a little lost. “I… do not know how to cook.”
Nico blinked at him, “I… could teach you? If you want?”
“Yes. Thank you. I would appreciate that.”
Nico grabbed a pan hanging off one of the hooks and set it on the stove. He and Tyrael grabbed the necessary ingredients and Nico talked Tyrael through the process of making an omelet. At some point he became aware of Lorath leaning against the doorway, watching the scene with a crooked smile.
“Well isn’t this a rare sight.” Lorath said. “The Aspect of Justice making breakfast.”
“Nico is teaching me how to make an omelet.” Tyrael replied lightly.
“Never learned how in the intervening years?” Lorath asked.
Tyrael poked at the omelet with the spatula, “...no, the opportunity never arose.”
Nico glanced between the two, unsure if he should say anything.
“Well,” Lorath entered the kitchen to collect the plates to set the table, “You picked a good teacher.” He briefly clasped Tyrael’s shoulder and the tension eased out of both men. It seemed that in the morning light whatever lingering hurt Lorath still held was set aside.
Over breakfast they discussed the day’s plans. Lorath had volunteered to help the healers with brewing more potions and curatives—it seemed that every day there were new reports of Drowned injuries or corrupted Amazon attacks. Tyrael heard concerning reports coming from Athulua Garrison of a merchant whose ship ran aground along the coast. They said he heard screams at night and sailors turning up dead, drained of blood.
“Vampires, you reckon?” Lorath asked with a furrowed brow.
“Possibly,” Tyrael said, “The Amazons are stretched thin and cannot afford to send people to investigate. Tharra asked if I would be willing to look into it.”
“Do you mind some company?” Nico asked, “I won’t be much help with the healers—poisons are more my area than potions—but I’ve dealt with vampires before.”
Lorath blinked, “When did you face down vampires?”
“It was a little after we separated. When you went down to Kurast to follow Neyrelle, there was some cult that was kidnapping people for some vampire lord, Zir.”
Tyrael blinked, “Zir… One of the Firstborn?”
Nico shrugged, “Maybe? He bit me—it’s fine, Lilith’s blood kept me from turning,” he ignored their alarmed looks, “And then all the side effects ended once I killed him.”
“Side effects? What side effects?” Lorath asked, alarmed.
“I could turn into bats sometimes.”
“What do you mean turn into bats?”
“I would appreciate your expertise,” Tyrael interrupted, “And am glad you have suffered no ill effects from your experience.”
With that decided, they set off on their respective tasks.
----
At the garrison, Tyrael and Nico questioned the sailor, who told them where the ship ran aground near the border between Athulua and Atanos. There they found a sailor drained of blood, a stack of dirt-filled coffins, a map, and a starving vampire, who fell quickly to El’druin’s might.
Nico hummed, reading through a blood-soaked journal they found on the vampire’s body. “It looks like there’s more than one. Seems like they were fleeing from the Knights Penitent—looks like Prava’s at least doing something useful now that she’s stopped trying to hunt down Lorath—and fled here to Skovos.”
Tyrael hummed, studying the map, “It seems they may have fled a little ways north of here. This map shows a pillar in central Atanos.”
“Well, I guess we have our next destination.”
----
There they found a wounded fisherman under attack. Nico managed to dash forward in time and slice through the vampire’s neck, beheading it before it could finish off the fisherman.
“Two figures, deathly pale, slashed my partner’s throat, mauled our horse… and then drank their blood! They delighted in it! Horrible!” The man shivered, still in shock, “I tried to crawl away, but one saw me. It lunged at me, faster than a demon! I would have died, but the drowned came, and they swarmed over the bloodsucker like crabs on a corpse. I… I’m lucky to be alive.”
“Do you need help getting to safety?” Nico asked.
The shaking man shook his head and pointed to the west, towards the isle of Celestia, “The second creature managed to escape—I saw it run that way. Please… you must kill it before it hurts anyone else. I… I can see the garrison from here. I will be fine. Please. Don’t let it kill anyone else.”
“We won’t,” promised Tyrael.
They went west in the direction both the map and the fisherman indicated. The journey was quiet, Nico struggling to figure out how to bring up what he had seen.
It was Tyrael who spoke first, “Something seems to be troubling you, my friend.”
“Hm?”
“You’ve been quiet on our journey.”
“Ah. Well,” Nico rubbed the back of his still aching neck, “I’ve been thinking of how to bring this up. Last night when I uh, grabbed your arm. I saw… something. Visions?”
Tyrael’s steps faltered, “Ah. Yes.”
Nico glanced at him, “I’m guessing it’s not all just in my imagination then?”
“No.” Tyrael responded, “Sometimes in moments of great emotion, I am capable of… projecting my memories and emotions, like an angel.”
“Oh.”
“I apologize if I caused you any discomfort. It was not my intention.” Tyrael said.
“No, it’s fine,” Nico replied, “But well… Do you know what I saw?”
“Yes. It was my memories of Lorath. I know he is still hurt—rightfully so,” Tyrael added, “but I do not know how to repair the damage I have done to our friendship. It has been… troubling me.”
“Does he know?” Nico asked.
“Know what?”
“That you’re in love with him?”
That made Tyrael stop and stare at him with wide eyes. He opened his mouth to respond—
“Tsk, such a burdensome task… Is my loyalty thus rewarded?” said a voice.
They were interrupted by a robed figure, standing outside some old abandoned houses. He was grumbling and pacing, with a wild look in his eyes. Nico and Tyrael exchanged glances.
Nico asked the man, “We’re looking for someone. Have you seen any strangers lately?”
“You two—did Master send you? He must have heard me complaining! H-He hears everything! I’m sorry, Master! I didn’t mean to be ungrateful! I-It’s an honor to be your lowly servant!” The man’s voice was manic, “Oh, kind, benevolent Master… H-He must have sent you to help me with my task of gathering victuals! Of course! I will lead, and you shall be my bondsmen.”
“Sure…” Nico said slowly, “We’ll help you. Can you bring us to the Master?”
“C-come, bondsmen. We will gather sweet things to feed to Master, and then he will grant you an audience!”
They followed the man as he went around killing rats, gathering their bodies and filling vials with their blood. He muttered and spoke as they worked.
“Haven’t seen a-a new face in the old city for years, th-then Master comes, and now you two? The eclipse changed everything, mark my words.”
“Have you lived here long?” Tyrael asked.
The man ignored him, “This was a beautiful city once, did you know that?” He sighed, “And then it got sick. Poisonous dreams.”
Nico blinked, “The city dreamed?”
The man continued unabated, “I used to be a scholar, you know, up at the Observatory,” He chuckled, “Before they kicked me out,” His voice deepened to a growl, “...for knowing too much.”
Nico exchanged another glance with Tyrael. Once they had gathered about a dozen vials, the man clapped his hands together.
“This will make a fine feast for our Master! C-C-Come along, bondsmen.” He led them through the streets of this long abandoned city to what looked like an old crypt. “Ah, here we are…” He chuckled again, “I-I sense the Master stirring.”
“Is your master ready to meet us?” Tyrael asked.
“Master sees all and knows all. He has seen you both through my eyes. I-I can feel his hunger—mustn’t keep him waiting.”
They descended down into the crypt. The smell of blood lingered in the air and Nico could see the bodies of various animals, vermin and deer alike, strewn across the floor.
“M-Master, your loyal servant has returned, and with the bondsmen you send to assist me! We-We bring you nourishment, so that you may regain your strength!”
The figure emerged from the shadows, pale, with frenzied eyes. When his eyes landed on Tyrael he froze, nose flaring out in terror.
“You should have stayed in the Fractured Peaks, vampire.” Nico said, and shot at the vampire with his bow. It seemed as if the shadows around him briefly came to life, and shades armed with their own bows shot at the vampire as well. Midway through the air all the arrows seemed to glow with frost and where they hit, they exploded into frost and shadow. The vampire screamed in pain.
“Bondsman, no! Stop! I trusted you!” The hermit screeched and drew a dagger, rushing at Nico. Tyrael intercepted him, knocking him off course. He tried to knock the man out, but he was insensate, swinging wildly with his blade, and Tyrael was forced to cut him down.
The vampire, feral and still hissing like a wild animal, was trapped by Nico’s frost-imbued arrows, and could do nothing as Nico pulled out his blade and, in one smooth motion, lopped the vampire’s head clean off. It slumped to the floor.
They both paused, weapons at the ready, but nothing more jumped out at them.
“I think that was the last one?” Nico said. “Strange, he didn’t seem very… well… intelligent.”
Tyrael flipped through a journal off a table in the corner, soggy from seawater and blood, “It seems they came to Skovos seeking a new hunting ground, but found nothing that could sustain them here in Celestia. He was already starving and half-mad. It is good we stopped them before they could find any more victims.”
Nico rubbed at his stiff neck again.
Tyrael looked over at him, “Are you alright? Were you hurt?”
“This? Nah, it’s from falling asleep on that couch.” Nico carefully pulled his head to the side, trying to stretch out the neck muscle.
“May I help?” Tyrael asked.
Nico blinked at him and nodded, unsure what Tyrael intended but trusting him anyway. Tyrael carefully removed one of his gauntlets and reached out to cup the back of Nico’s neck. His hand was warm.
Is this some sort of angelic healing magic? He wondered.
Tyrael carefully squeezed, thumb pressing gentle circles along the side of his neck. Nico let out a sigh. Oh, that felt nice. He shifted his hand lower and Nico tilted his head to give him easier access. He carefully pinched the muscle between his neck and shoulder, an action that felt divine. Nico couldn’t hold back a soft moan.
After a few more moments of this, Tyrael pulled his hand back and Nico’s eyes fluttered open—when had he closed them?
“Thank you.” Nico said. He could feel the warmth on his face and knew he was likely blushing.
Tyrael nodded, “You’re welcome.” There was a pause before he squared his shoulders as if preparing for a battle, “...About our earlier conversation.” And then trailed off, his brow furrowed.
Nico watched him carefully. “...About you being in love with Lorath.”
“...Yes.” Tyrael said.
Nico blinked, surprised, “So, you admit it? I mean, you know you’re in love with him.”
Tyrael nodded, “Yes.”
There was a pause. Nico waited to see if Tyrael would continue, but Tyrael seemed content to stare in silence at him.
“Does he know? Are you going to tell him?” Nico asked.
Tyrael shook his head, “No.”
“What? Why not?”
Tyrael fiddled with the gauntlet still held in his hands, “...I do not think it is a good idea.”
Nico tilted his head, this time his neck giving no complaint, “Why not?”
“I cannot afford to be selfish. Sanctuary cannot afford for me to be selfish.”
It seemed like the beginning of a perfectly rehearsed little self-sacrificial speech. Pity Nico wasn’t inclined to hear it.
“Bullshit.”
Tyrael blinked, “Pardon?”
Nico raised an eyebrow, “Do you think Lorath and I are being selfish? Finding moments of happiness together where we can?”
“I–no, of course not.”
“Do you think we’re any less invested in protecting Sanctuary—protecting our home—because of our relationship?” Nico asked.
“No,” Tyrael responded.
“Do you think Lorath deserves to be happy? To be loved?” Nico asked.
Tyrael’s eyes softened, “Yes. He does. He has sacrificed so much for the Horadrim, for the world, he deserves…” He trailed off, but Nico understood what he meant even without the words. Lorath deserved everything. (Nico was perhaps a little biased, but he didn’t care.)
“Well,” Nico said, “The same goes for you too, you know. To be happy. To be loved.”
Tyrael blinked at Nico as if the thought had never occurred to him. Slowly, he put his gauntlet back on.
“Forgive me,” Tyrael asked, “But I was under the impression that most humans would not be happy if another confessed to loving their romantic partner.”
Ah. Well. The Cathedral of Light frowned upon the idea of multiple romantic partners, but the druids of the glen had always been more open to the idea. It was not uncommon to find households with a set of three parents, or those with multiple partners.
“I think,” he said slowly, “That I don’t want Lorath to go through the pain of losing you again. Before you showed up again Lorath was… drowning. I don’t want him to ever reach that point again. And I think the reasons that pushed you to leave the first time are still there. We can’t change anything about Sanctuary in chaos—well, more so than what we’re already doing—but that wasn’t the only reason you left.”
Tyrael looked troubled, “...I had not intended to stay gone so long. If I had known Lorath was suffering…”
Nico tilted his head, “Did it help?”
Tyrael blinked at him, “Help?”
“Leaving. Did it make things easier on you?”
“...No. My doubts. My fears. It seemed as if they only grew stronger.”
Nico nodded, unsurprised, “Then maybe it’s time to try a different strategy. Break the cycle, as Neyrelle would say.”
“I wish I could have met her. She sounds like she was a remarkable woman.”
“...She was.” Nico still missed her. The grief would catch him at odd hours, a stray thought of I wonder what Neyrelle would think of this or I should tell Neyrelle about that.
There was a pause as Nico shook his head and looked around, suddenly remembering they were still in a crypt with a dead vampire and a dead body in the corner.
“We should probably head home before it gets late.” Nico said.
Pillars of Eternity made a brilliant move including a party member who is so unrelentingly abrasive and unpleasant that players and even the other companions can bond over how terrible he is. Phenomenally written character, completely insufferable. 10/10
My Earthen crashing through the window of a Goblin's house like a 10-ton brick after slamming into a lamppost at 145 mph with no seatbelt in my Gobmobile
Also chapter 3 of the Nico/Lorath/Tyrael fic is done and I'll likely post it tomorrow. Just wanna go over it in the morning and make sure there's not any egregious mistakes and/or it flows alright
Why would polygamy be forbidden in a world like Diablo without misogyny or other bigotry we associate with the modern day church, and can we actually have it be a problem? Well, yes, because of the reasons polygamy became taboo in many parts of the world even before Christianity:
If one person has multiple partners because of their status, power or even just looks and charisma, there is a lot of people who will end up without a partner. These people will have many reasons to want those on the top dead more than usual, and that is bad for the group. To maintain peace, you tell everyone they are only allowed to pick one partner at a time.
Inheritance - if there are multiple partners and some or all have children, those children compete for the inheritance. And when resources become scarce (which happens all the time in Sanctuary) there is a high chance the partners will start fighting each other to secure a better life for their child.
An extension to the 2nd reason is if multiple people get together in marriage from different families, the families might use their child as means to enter proxy wars with others. All of this creates chaos and higher chance of people killing each other (as if they needed more excuse).
So all of these reasons why polygamy was taboo, or at least was not officially recognized with marriage in our history, can work without having to resort to misogyny or other forms of bigotry. It could be that saying people are only allowed to marry one person at a time will stop people from wanting to marry the richest or most well off person in a world where resources are scarce.
Found Lorath's character model and the references for his halberd and Horadric polearm.
Links to Steve HyunSuk suh's ArtStation pages for them are Here for the wepaon model and Here for the character model.
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