Diablo 1 - Chronicles of Tristram - A Metal Opera

Diablo 1 - Chronicles of Tristram - A Metal Opera

Begin:

The village lay before us, a shadowy, eerie place,
Once a realm of splendor, now fallen from grace.
Home to monsters and demons, where fears come to light,
In the distance, wolves howl, shrouded in night.
A sense of dread and darkness hangs in the air,
Tristram, a village consumed by despair.

Deckard Cain, the wise one, with knowledge so rare,
Identifies artifacts, and secrets laid bare.
Griswold, the blacksmith, with hammer in hand,
Shapes iron and steel, his craft is grand.
Ogden, the innkeeper, with stories to tell,
Of heroes and legends who once fought so well.

Pepin, the healer, with potions in store,
Brings hope to the weary, a chance to restore.
Gillian, the beautiful barmaid, with a smile so bright,
Her laughter chases away the dark night.
Farnham, the drunkard, lost in his haze,
His ramblings swirl like a wild maze.

Adria, the witch, with secrets to share,
In shadows and spells, she weaves her snare.
Wirt, the Peg-Legged Boy, with treasures in sight,
Hides rarest of gems, a true delight.
The night holds secrets that freeze the heart's beat,
A terror approaches while they remain discreet.

_________

Act 1: The Cathedral

In the cathedral, where no light breaks through,
Zombies and skeletons gather, their numbers anew.
A feeling of sorrow, fills the cold, heavy air,
Here reigns the darkness, a throne of care.
Every shadow holds terror, each corner a fright,
In this house of evil, where souls fade from sight.

Once a king of glory, with honor and might,
His kingdom thrived, a beacon of light.
But madness took hold, like shadows at night,
His spirit shattered, lost in the fight.
Now as an undead, his crown a dark jest,
King Leoric reigns, in a cursed, restless quest.

Uhhh...Ahhh No No, Help me !

Ah...Fresh Meat..... !
A stench of decay fills the air so thick,
The scent of lost souls, a horror so sick.
Flesh seething, the cauldron's dark heat,
Blood stains the ground, where the shadows retreat.
A grotesque figure emerges, with a cleaver in hand,
The Butcher, the slayer, in this cursed land.

_________

Act 2: The Catacombs

In the catacombs where whispers are few,
Dark shadows dance, with a chilling view.
The walls are damp, stained with blood and despair,
Echoes of screams, a haunting affair.
In the depths of the silence, where phantoms unite,
Beneath the grip of darkness, where the dead claim their might...

Beyond the gateway of blood, where shadows entwine,
Lies Arkaine's Valor, a treasure divine.
Shining and strong, an armor against night,
Guarded by horrors, ready to fight.
Horned Demons lurking, with horn sharp and cruel,
Their eyes burning red, in the darkness they rule.

The Book of the Blind, with secrets divine.
Leading to halls so potent, it blinds the keen eye,
Invisible monsters in darkness await,
Striking without warning, sealing your fate.
But those who dare venture and conquer the night,
Shall earn the Optic Amulet, a beacon of light.

_________

Act 3: The Caves

In the caverns where darkness reigns supreme,
Rivers of lava flow, a nightmarish dream.
A glow of destruction ignites the shadows' dance,
In the depths of the night, where the lost souls prance.
The walls burn hot, consumed by the fire,
Here lurk the horrors that feed on desire.

Witch Adria wanders, with a gaze icy cold,
Through shadows of night, where the darkness unfolds.
With a spellbook in hand, holding secrets untold,
She seeks the Black Mushroom, for power to mold.
Vipers with swords, through shadows they glide,
With four arms ready, bringing death with pride.

Griswold, the blacksmith, with a heart set ablaze,
In search of the power to forge through the haze.
Brave in the shadows, where darkness does creep,
To find the Anvil of Fury, where secrets sleep.
Strong in his spirit, from depths he will rise,
With flames of the ancients, he'll claim the prize.

_________

Act 4: The Hell

In hell, the flames burn bright, never to cease,
Damned souls are crying, their torment won't cease.
In the hellish depths, the blood knights stand cold,
Their armor shines bright, but their souls are sold.
Enchanting succubi, with beauty so bold,
In shadows they whisper, their secrets unfold.

Archbishop Lazarus, with venomous tongue,
His words like a serpent, deceitfully sung.
He sows seeds of discord in hearts full of greed,
Enticing with lies, planting doubt like a seed.
In darkness he wanders, with power in hand,
A master of deception, who conquers the land.

Diablo, the Dark Lord of Terror and dread,
In the darkness he comes, where hope seems dead.
He rises from chaos, his power unleashed,
As heroes unite, their strength is increased.
With courage and honor, they stand side by side,
To vanquish the darkness, and turn the tide.

_________

Ending:

In flames he fades, the Dark Lord of Terror,
Yet in the shadows, his spirit grows feral.
A whisper in the wind, his promise ignites,
"I´ll rise once again, when darkness claims night."
Aaaaaaaarrrgh......