Summary:

In-between Act I and II: Lut Gholein: In which we see a glimpse of Leah's view of things, a familiar face, and a bit more of Lyndon being a rude, selfish oaf, because it's secretly my very favorite. And also Jack not-so-subtly threatens to kill a man over ferrets.

"Though the road's been rocky, it sure feels good to me."

― Bob Marley

The Lut Gholein sun that peeked in on them between haphazardly strung canopies of fabric, was near baking. Leah fanned herself with her shopping list, glad to have changed out of her warm, red sweater into something light, loose, and more suited to the desert clime. She didn't expect that Caldeum would be much different. Likely it would be even hotter from the winds that blew off the sun-ravaged dunes of Kehjistan.

Jack the Demon Hunter trailed just steps behind her, having insisted upon accompanying her through the markets as she made last minute purchases. She appreciated his chivalry, but she was more than capable of taking care of herself. Even still, she did not begrudge his company, quiet as he was.

He was heads taller than most of the locals in the buzzing market, and was impossible to miss. A stain of black among the rainbow of silks, linens, and stream of people. His dark hood was pushed back from his head, and a light sheen of sweet lingered beneath his shadowed eyes, the only indication that he even felt the oppressive heat. His raven-black hair hung freely about his face in messy tresses, and it was long enough to almost reach the line of his shoulders. People parted before them like water flowing around a stone, the hunter's very presence unnerving them. Despite the stares they received, Leah was just happy to be surrounded by so much life. She had missed the bustle of crowded places, and the rhythm of traveling helped to ease the bad memories of New Tristram that lingered in her mind, and the pain of her uncle's death that had made its home in her heart. To travel without uncle Deckard... it felt wrong somehow, but she hadn't exactly left him behind had she?

She idly fingered the pendant at her breast, and drew a breath of strength from the ashes sealed inside.

Soothed by the sounds of the city, like the presence of a long-missed friend, Leah absorbed the old familiar sights and sounds of Lut Gholein's merchants market: a group of women picked through a tray of carved, obsidian beads, faces hidden by silk. Their eyes looked out from small windows in the fabric, large, green, and rimmed with coal. Their laughter as they passed was musical. A wealthy looking man inspected a rack of ornate carpets while the merchant happily chattered away about the uniqueness of each. Soon, rows and rows of piled spices stretched out before them and Leah bought nutmeg, cayenne, and curry. It made food taste better, even if the food was not of good quality. She had never thought particularly well of her own cooking, but she knew that it was adequate enough.

"Do you need anything? I'm almost done." She asked the Demon Hunter, who fixed his placid, blue gaze upon her. His eyes were piercing, and betrayed little to nothing of the thoughts that moved beneath.

"No."

"Caldeum could be under siege when we arrive, who knows when we might get another chance." She pressed.

"What I require, Haedrig can provide."

Sometimes he was friendly with her, and sometimes he was merely curt, and that was that. She had grown used to his moods, and did not let it bother her.

"I have never been to Lut Gholein before. It is an... interesting city." He offered after a few minutes, almost as an apology for his rudeness.

Leah smiled at him, and happily began telling him some of the city's history, how it was the main trading port in Aranoch, and was the first stop on a long route that began in Xiansai, passed through Lut Gholein, Philios, and Kingsport, before finally curving into the Gulf of Westmarch to Bramwell, then Westmarch itself. She pointed out the variety of unique goods and the veritable melting pot of different kinds of people, all living together, a larger variety of customs and cultures than even Caldeum could claim. The Demon Hunter listened, only interrupting her once to ask what a rambutan was. He was very quiet, and generally ill tempered. But he'd always been kind to her in his own way, and she liked him.

They had some time still before their ship departed for Gea Kul, Jack had given everyone three hours to do as they pleased until it was time to board, and Leah had nearly finished buying the items she needed. New ink and quill tips for her journals, various foods and spices, some spare herbs, medicines and linens that she hoped would not give away how close she was to her monthly moon cycle (she managed the purchase with a straight face and Jack seemed none the wiser), a spare tunic, and a new pack to carry it all. Kormac and Haedrig had stayed behind at the dock, volunteering to watch their things. Tyrael had expressed an interest in traveling through the streets, but opted to stay behind and rest a little. He was likely still recovering from his ordeal beneath Leoric's manor, Leah reasoned. Lyndon however, had disappeared almost as soon as the offer of 'free time' had left the Demon Hunter's mouth.

Despite the idea of carrying her uncle's ashes in the pendant having come from him, she secretly hoped he wouldn't come back.

There was just rice left now, it was inexpensive and would keep them all fed for a time if Caldeum had nothing to provide. She had also found some of the more heartier vegetables like acorn squash that would survive the boat ride across the narrow, Twin Seas.

Rice, and a visit to an old friend. She had questions that needed answering.

Leah purchased the hefty bag of rice from a smiling, mustached man, his skin burnt a dark brown by the sun. Jack offered to carry it for her. Weighed down by other purchases, she felt it would be too prideful to refuse his help, so she relented. He gave no indication of the smugness that some men often displayed when assisting her with tasks that she could not complete on her own, and for that she was grateful.

The alleys they walked narrowed as she followed a path from memory. The crowds thinned and scattered as shop fronts and carts became shadowed doorways and slatted windows. Jack followed. Her silent shadow. A man sang a low, haunting prayer in a language she did not understand as he walked past, his arms folded carefully among his yellow and tan robes.

At last she reached a simple red wooden door set deep into the baked clay walls. The symbol of the Vizjerei clan, a dragon bent low over a crescent moon, was painted upon the door. A mar was struck through the image, as though carved out with a dagger.

She knocked twice, then three times quickly.

"Go away!" An elderly voice hissed from somewhere beyond the door, and Leah smiled, expecting as much.

"Drognan, it's Leah!" She called back.

There was a pause while Jack stood stiffly beside her, shifting the rice over his shoulder.

"Leah...?" The voice repeated from beyond the door.

An elderly dark skinned man with a silver beard and a long, heavy wooden staff in hand, hastily opened the door and when he saw her, his wrinkled face split into a wide grin.

"Ah, dearest Leah, so it is you!" And embraced her warmly. "I thought you were Lord Jerhyn coming 'round again, begging for another Mancala game to skirt his paperwork!"

"Drognan, it's nice to see you again." She said. It had been many years since she had last visited, an old friend of her uncle's. It was so strange to be here without uncle Deckard, but she had questions she felt only Drognan could answer in his absence.

"Indeed it is, you've grown so much! And who is this? Is he your young man?" Drognan asked with a sly smile.

"He's a friend." She corrected him quickly, flushing pink, and pointedly avoiding the hunter's eye. "His name is Jack, he's a-"

"Demon Hunter. Yes. Can never have too many Demon Hunters around I always say. Especially these days, as a dark eclipse works to shadow our world once more. It's a pleasure to meet you Jack. Come in, friends, come in." Drognan clattered inside, leaning heavily on his staff, beckoning them to follow.

Jack inclined his head politely at the greeting, and murmured a 'thank you,' then followed Leah inside the dimly lit home, stooping low to avoid hitting his head on the door frame. They were met with the lightly sweet scent of vanilla incense, burning in a red glass lantern, hung from the center of the low ceiling. There was a plush chair in front of an empty fireplace, and the many candles illuminated a table scattered with parchments, books, and various esoteric items of magical origin.

"Ahh, tell me. How is your dear uncle Cain? Is he not with you?" Drognan asked her lightly, as she knew he would.

Her hand went to the pendant at her chest, "He... he passed away." She said quietly.

The good humor left Drognan's face and he regarded her steadily, both of his gnarled hands perched on the top of his worn staff. "Passed away..." He repeated, but there was something in his tone that suggested he did not accept her answer.

"He was murdered." Jack supplied evenly where Leah was unable. "By a witch named Maghda. The leader of a cult known as the-"

"Triune. Yes. I know of her. I quite liked your uncle, he was a wise man, last of the Horadrim. I am sorry Leah." The old man said gently. "This is grave news indeed."

She nodded, not trusting her voice in that moment.

"We have been hunting Maghda from New Tristram." Jack began, setting the rice at his feet.

"And you seek her in Caldeum, a city under siege by one of the Three. Belial." Drognan answered, putting about his small kitchen space and pouring hot water into a small, porcelain teacup. How he could still drink hot tea in this weather was beyond her.

Jack tilted his head slightly, eyes flashing, suddenly distrustful. "How do you-"

"I'm a former Mage of the Vizjerei clan, it's my business and my interest to know. May I get you something? Tea?" He asked lightly, indicating the cups before him.

"I'm sorry, we cannot stay long, we've charted a boat to Gea Kul." Leah explained apologetically.

"But you have questions, questions that perhaps only an old Mage can answer." Drognan drawled, a knowing smile gracing his face.

She grinned. "Yes."

"Ask then, dear girl, ask, and I shall do all I can to help you."

As it happened, Drognan's knowledge of The Prophecy was far less than her uncle's, and he could offer her little but general advice and speculation. He knew of it, but had never seen it in its complete form as Deckard Cain had.

"Cain was the authority on such things, my studies lean toward darker pursuits, I am sorry. Perhaps the answer lies waiting in his books." He had apologized. "You've always been a clever one, Leah. I've no doubt the answers you seek will come to you." It was worth a try at least. Her uncle was not here, and Drognan knew much about the way of the great demon lords.

Even still, she could not hide her disappointment.

He was unable to assist them with Kormac's tomes either, and had actually laughed when she had brought up the problem of the Templar Order.

"Hah! A bastardized form of a bastard religion! Your poor Templar should cast off his tabard and leave it behind, he will be much the better for it! If only Horazon could see us now. Wherever he's gone."

Poor Kormac. She would continue to try to help him find the answers he sought as best she could.

One question remained. The one she had been sitting on for some time.

"Drognan, when we fought Maghda in the drowned temple she... mentioned that my mother Adria was still alive. Have you...have you heard of her? Do you know if she still lives?" She asked hesitantly, unable to keep hope from entering her voice.

Dorgnan's face darkened considerably. "I know of her. As far as I know she is dead. Leave all thoughts of her behind you Leah. It does not pay to place stock in the words of witches."

And that was that.

After, they caught up a little on each other's lives, but there was not much else to say, and the hour was growing late. With a heavy heart she bid him goodbye. As they made to leave, the ex-Vizjerei stopped them.

"Wait, friend. Twenty years ago I assisted a group of adventurers in locating the tomb of Tal Rasha in order to stop Diablo from freeing his brother Baal. Even though certain... events... transpired regardless, I would dishonor Cain's memory if I did not at least try to assist you now."

Jack stared at him passively, waiting for him to speak.

"Beware the child emperor. There will be more than Lacuni and claw vipers to contend with. Belial's strikes are always aimed at the heart of any city he intends to conquer, if it is not his already." He warned gravely.

"Thank you." Jack answered him, and stooped his head through the door.

"Maghda deserves whatever dark fate comes to her. Goodbye Leah. Jack. And may the fates smile on you."

Leah was disappointed, yes. But it felt good to see a familiar face. It was good to be somewhere that had not much changed from the last time she visited. Their visit to Caldeum was looking darker than ever, but she felt some comfort knowing that a former angel, Tyrael would be aiding them, and Jack had more than proved his proficiency with his particular skills in freeing Tyrael from the Black King's dungeons.

She couldn't help but feel as though they had a real chance.

Now they had just enough time to grab something to eat and head back to the boat and-

-there was a man at the center of the small crowd with a glass box and a cage, and he had captured the Demon Hunter's attention completely. The finely dressed merchant was taking bets on who would win in a fight, the cobra or the two mongoose he had in the little cage. A nasty sport for nasty people, she thought. Everyone knew that mongoose could usually kill a cobra with little difficulty, she wondered what he hoped to accomplish by letting two of them fight the snake, surely he would just lose his money and his cobra to the whims of the eager locals?

"Place your bets please! Place your bets! The mongooses or the cobra! Who will win? I wonder!" The man exclaimed happily, showing off the deadly serpent sleeping behind the glass and the two little furred things, "mongooses" she supposed, stuffed into a much-too-small metal cage.

The merchant looked at Jack, towering over the rest of the people. "Your bet sir?"

"Those are ferrets." Jack responded evenly, and rather angrily she might add.

"An' 'ow would you know? You some kind o' mongoose expert?" The merchant laughed. Some people in the crowd laughed, but Jack was not laughing.

...Not that he did much of that anyway.

"I know the difference, and I'm sure your "customers" don't appreciate being lied to." It was the most he had said all day. The people around him were starting to get nervous about the situation. Leah just hung back a little and observed curiously, wondering what Jack even thought he was doing. She didn't know the difference between a ferret and a mongoose, but he certainly seemed to think it was a very important distinction.

"I'm not lying! Two mongooses and a cobra, a fair bet who'll win!" The merchant snapped hotly, getting agitated now.

"Those are ferrets. They are not equipped to kill a cobra and will die, allowing you to reap the winnings." Jack hissed. Some of the people that were still lingering didn't like the idea that they could have been lied to and started to look a little angry as well.

"They're only animals, does it matter? Piss off." The merchant tossed back angrily, merely annoyed with the whole thing.

Jack bristled and his jaw shifted subtly as though he were clenching his teeth. "It matters. Sell them to me."

"They ain't fo' sale." The merchant snapped angrily as people around him started to demand their money back.

Jack drew himself up to his full height, teeth bared just a little, and his eyes glinting strangely in the shadow beneath the canopy. It was honestly a little frightening, and Leah worried that he might be moments away from loosing his incredible temper upon the wretched merchant.

She just wasn't quite sure if she cared or not if he did.

"You may either sell them to me, or I will take them from you. It's your choice." As Jack threatened, his fingers brushed over the curved blade he kept at his hip.

The man paled, perhaps finally realizing that Jack was armed to the teeth and would back up his threat with violence. He hastily accepted the small purse of gold that was shoved into his hands. The hunter snatched the cage of ferrets away from the man and broke the door open, pulling the ferrets out. They did not bite him or run, they only hurriedly escaped into Jack's traveling bag to get away from the merchant. That done, Jack threw the broken cage at the man's feet, gave him a last, filthy look, then left him to the throng of people who were demanding refunds.

Leah ran a bit to catch up with him. "What an awful man." She said when she reached his side.

"I should have taken them and given him nothing. Reckless killing in men begins when they torture beasts for their own amusement with the reasoning that they are only animals." He spat, but he was not angry at her.

They sat together on the gently rocking ship, eating some street food they had picked up for lunch, and watching Haedrig bark orders at the hired men responsible for moving his caravan and forge aboard. Kormac and Tyrael stood at the open bow, gazing into the vaguely turbulent waters. It looked as though their journey would start off with a bit of rough seas. She hoped it would not storm, that would be worse. But the skies were clear and blue, the sun still hot, perhaps it was only the ripples of a storm long passed.

Kormac was staring at the water with a distinct frown on his face, looking a little unwell.

Jack pulled the two ferrets out of his bag, examining them. They chirped excitedly, and nipped playfully at his fingers, apparently fond of their savior already. He fed them some of the meat he had, which they eagerly gobbled (Jack didn't seem to eat much anyway) then happily slept, curled in his arms. Leah observed the softness in his eyes when he looked at them, dragging his un-gloved index finger over their small whiskered heads. Thinking of the raven that often trailed behind him (currently perched on the ship's mast), the spider Lyndon had complained about, and the way Jack would sometimes point out birds to her and answer her questions about songs she didn't recognize.

He seemed to be quite fond of animals.

"Can I touch them?" She asked, swallowing another mouthful of lunch.

Looked at her a little warily. "Yes."

He sat stiffly, tense as a bowstring while she pet the ferrets in his lap, and relaxed again when she pulled away.

She smiled. "I've never much cared for rats or weasels-"

"Ferrets." He corrected.

"Yes, ferrets. But they're rather cute aren't they?"

"They are twins, brother and sister."

She frowned, skeptical. "How do you know that?"

He didn't answer her, but there was that odd quirk of his lips again that he did instead of smiling.

Leah sat quietly for a time, finishing her food and watching the people, then had a thought. "Why did you hire Lyndon if you hate thieves and liars so much?"

Jack paused and seemed to think on her question. "I could not ignore his talents. He has proven to be quite useful, and I believe that there is more to him than what lies on the surface. I admit I was... curious." He said.

"Huh. Seems an awful lot of trouble just to satisfy a curiosity." She mused.

"Indeed he has his... faults, but at the very least he does not torment beasts for his own amusement."

"No. He has other ways of amusing himself." Leah wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Jack did smile at that.

The boat was ready and all their supplies and personal effects had been settled safely aboard. The only person who was still missing was-

There was some commotion from the tall, wooden building to the left of the docks as Lyndon practically fell out of the front door, a scandalously dressed woman in his arms, attached to him at the mouth.

Speak of the devil. So it was the harbor's brothel he'd gone to? Creep.

Lyndon and the nameless woman tangled in the street a moment, then the thief had her up against the wall, his hand in her cleavage, and let loose a lurid sounding moan, and they were just grinding-

-She looked away, embarrassed, and glanced sideways at the Demon Hunter who managed to look simultaneously bored and disgusted by Lyndon's behavior.

"I shall count the days I am away from your, ahm, warm embrace!" Lyndon called, closer now, on the boat's ramp. She started crying rather insistently as he tried to pry her desperately grasping fingers off of himself with moderate force.

So much for leaving him behind.

"Write to me!" she wailed, then covered his mouth with hers. They kissed rather disgustingly for several seconds, and it was disgusting, but she couldn't look away. It was like watching a ship burning and sinking into the sea.

"Definitely!" He gasped, then grinned devilishly as she finally pulled away to let him breathe, then stepping away from him. Lyndon had a box labeled 'Darjeeling' under his arm that she hadn't noticed before. Before he fully boarded the ship, the woman stole one last kiss, dragging her fingers through the thief's hair and messing it thoroughly.

He scowled and smoothed his hand through it a few times in an attempt to fix the damage, and waved weakly at her as she howled from the docks while the ship inched away from the harbor at a snail's pace.

"GOODBYE MY LOVE!" She screeched, waving a handkerchief.

"Gods, can't this boat leave any faster?!" He hissed to himself, pointedly ignoring her. Then he turned to Leah and the Demon Hunter, as though just noticing that they were there.

He pointed at the ferrets in the Demon Hunter's lap."What are those? Tube rats? Weasels?" He straightened his coat and preened himself carefully like a bird, not really paying attention even as he asked. She didn't much like him. What else was hidden beneath his creepy exterior? Nothing. He was a creep.

"Ferrets." Jack answered dryly.

Lyndon scrunched up his face distastefully. "Whatever. Just keep them away from me." He drawled, then wandered away. He smiled at her as he passed, box of Darjeeling tea secure under his arm. No one would know if he had stolen it or paid for it, but knowing Lyndon even slightly, she could only conclude that he had stolen it. His smile was slow, and heated, suggesting more than a simple, polite greeting.

...Creep.

She noticed Kormac hugging the edge of the boat, looking queasy.

"Are you alright Kormac? You look a little... unwell." Leah inquired, getting up from the Demon Hunter's side and going to him.

"I feel horrible, I'm not used to boats." Kormac admitted miserably and his fingers tightened on the edge when the boat tipped and bobbed on the waves.

"We haven't even left the sodding harbor yet Kormac. Never ride any boats in the Gulf of Westmarch?" Lyndon asked rather cheerfully, apparently enjoying the Templar's misery. "You can't grow up in Kingsport and not take a boat ride at least half a dozen times." Lyndon gloated proudly, and he did seem to balance on the ship remarkably well.

"Damn your wretched Kingsport to Hell. It is nothing compared to the grand capitol of Khanduras, the homeofmyorder-" Kormac ground out before he was retching suddenly over the side.

Leah sympathetically rubbed his back.

"Eugh, better out than in, eh Templar?" Lyndon said grinning. "Kingsport is far grander than Westmarch could ever hope to be. The mere mention of her name produces a fluttering in the heart of any true adventurer." He said airily.

"If I was not... so ill, I would strike you." Kormac muttered darkly while Lyndon's eyes twinkled with mirth and he laughed merrily.

"Probably for the best. Wouldn't want to lose your balance eh?"

"Is five minutes peace too tall an order for either of you to fulfill?" Jack snapped from his spot in the shade. "Leave our poor Templar alone, Lyndon."

Tyrael and Haedrig were observing from the bow of the ship, equally amused expressions on their faces.

"I thought Kingsport was a bit of adump." Leah said haughtily, annoyed by the thief as well.

Lyndon gasped and clutched his heart, then pretended to swoon so dramatically that she couldn't help but laugh. "Leah, your words wound me." He breathed, "They cut me to my very core!" Then he straightened, grinning broadly.

Lyndon was a creep for certain, but at least he wasn't boring. She couldn't help but feel optimistic about the path life had set her upon.

Note: I love Drognan, he was one of my favorite characters from D2.