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Kitsilan boarded Warriv's caravan early the next morning and slept the whole way to Lut Gholein. She was tired. Once in town, she hopped off and was immediately accosted by a young man in funny pants who introduced himself as "Jerhyn, Lord of Lut Gholein". Considering her own lack of raiment below the hip, she stifled her giggles and listened to his tale. It seemed Lut Gholein was not the happy, thriving trading town it had been. Well, all that meant to Kitsilan was that she'd have work and to spare, so she trotted off to see Atma, as Jerhyn had mentioned the tavernkeeper had a standing commission.
On the way, Kits ran into Fara, the local blacksmith and healer. Observing Fara toss her Malus and catch it again, Kitsilan privately resolved to stay on her good side.
Atma's deal was revenge, plain and simple. She'd lost her family to uglies in the sewers under the town, and she wanted the ones that murdered them eliminated. Especially the ugliest of them all, Radament. Kitsilan figured that could be arranged, and after replacing her light belt with a regular belt (better storage, and this new one had +3 regen), she opened the trap door and went down the stairs to Lut Gholein's Sewers.
Right away, she ran into Sand Raiders. Tall, thin, insectile creatures, they moved around in crab-like random patterns, and were fairly easy to dispose of. Burning Dead Archers and Dried Corpses were next, and Kitsilan was glad she'd paid attention to her fire resistance levels. She leveled to 16 taking out the last of that group, and found the new stats button interfering with her targeting. Rounding a corner into a medium-sized room, Dried Corpse minions appeared, one by one. She shot them down the same way, wondering where their boss was. He finally appeared—Gut Grin (cursed). Since she had room behind her, Kits fell back, fired, back a step, more Magic Arrows, not giving him a chance to curse her. He dropped a blue battle axe, and she decided it was time to attend to her level-up.
She meant to learn how to Slow Missiles, but Fara misunderstood and Kitsilan found she'd increased her Critical Strike to 49%. Darn. Well, that's to the good, too, and she'll pick up SM next chance she gets. She also noticed that the nicer gauntlets and such were heavier than she could deal with right now, so she decided to push her strength a bit harder than she had been.
With all that sorted away, it was back to business. The rest of Level 1 was uneventful, no bosses, no champions… no loot. "Well, if you call a plain falcion and a composite bow 'loot', I guess there was a mite," she grumbled to Fara, dumping the items in question on Fara's table and not bothering to count the few coins the smith handed her in return.
Her luck stayed about the same in Level 2. More Sand Raiders and Dried Corpses, but standard Burning Dead instead of Archers. They walk at a fairly decent clip, however, and had no trouble homing in on Kitsilan. ("Darn it, I know I bathed this week.") She worked her way methodically to the east, clearing a long wide corridor before she turned up a side channel and found a pack of Burning Dead minions clustered around—wait for it—Spine Grumble the Destroyer (mana burn). "I did for your cousins!" Kits yelled, possibly unwisely, as she raced back up the corridor, shooting over her shoulder. His mana burn was much more effective than that of the Wraiths in the Catacombs and Kits had to switch to normal arrows to finish him and his minions off, by which time she was an embarassingly long way from where she'd met them. He left her a blue spiked shield, as useless to her as anything could be while still being semi-valuable.
"Well, that's a Grumble for you," she muttered, pocketing the 1,038 gold pieces Fara gave her for it. The rest of Level 2 was uneventful, so Kitsilan tried her hand at gambling once again. She has trouble resisting chain boots, and Elzix took her to the cleaners—Chain Boots of Remedy. Ohboy.
Durn near stone broke now, she headed for Level 3. On the way, she asked everyone what they knew about Radament. Drognan said he was the end product of some very odd Horadric burial rituals, which Kitsilan privately thought to be as questionable as anything Diablo was credited with, and Lysander recommended exploding potions. Cain said that Radament actually belonged in some canyon or other, and the spells were unravelling. None of this seemed terribly helpful, as she found it hard to pick up a drink while holding a bow, and holding exploding potions might be just as difficult. However, it was something to keep in mind, and in the mean time, she swapped out her life steal long bow for the gemmed one.
Level 3 consisted of more Burning Dead, and Burning Dead Mages, plus Dried Corpses. As Kitsilan moved deeper into the tunnels, they seemed to come at her in waves. She slowed down her approach, letting them get in range and shooting them down. If they threatened to crowd her, she fell back, but otherwise this seemed to be working. Having her chilly gemmed bow proved a good idea, as it prevented Star Maul the Jagged, a teleporting Mage boss, from doing any teleporting before he became Star Maul the Ice Cube Pile.
With all this attention, Kits figured she was getting close to the source.
She wasn't, of course. Having cleared the southeast corridors, Kitsilan was forced to admit that she'd made a wrong turn at the stairs. Radament was to the north and west. She pinpointed his location and portalled up to town. She wanted a tank.
All that's available in Lut Gholein are a kind of Tinker Toy version of 'tank', but they'll do for Radament. Kits settled on Waheed, Boy Jabber. His alertness got on her nerves as they portalled to Level 2. She was tempted to thump his head, but instead led him down the stairs to Level 3. They paced down a long corridor away from Radament's Lair and Kitsilan set up a portal. She liked the location: a straight shot down the hall from Radament, and well away from the stairs to Level 2. An excellent escape, should they need one. Or rather, should she need one.
Let us pause now, to toast Waheed and remember his passing. He fended off several Horrors in a useless attempt to get near Radament before finally succumbing to their teeny attacks. Since Radament raised them again in jig time, his efforts were completely wasted. But they were noble.
Shaking her head in disgust, Kitsilan proceeded to lure Burning Mages and Horrors down the hall and far enough from Radament that they couldn't be revived. After five or six had been so treated, she got a bead on the big mummy himself. "Lord, but that is ugly," she thought, casting Inner Sight and getting a really good look. "Extra fast, too." Disdaining the efforts of a fire Mage and a poison Mage to distract her, she concentrated her fire on Radament and slurping just enough healing potions to counteract the effects of being poisoned at close range. He went down without getting near enough to try his melee attack, whatever that is, and the instant he started to fall, Kits whipped round and blew away both of her tormenters.
She took the Horadric Scroll from the glowing chest back to Cain and edged away while he was still reading it. Fara helped her with the Slow Missiles skill she'd been wanting to learn, and which would have been so useful with all those Mages
"With what, my sweet disposition?" she wondered, curling up in her bedroll for the evening. Then she remembered Cain getting all excited about the scroll and checked her notes. "Oh. Horadric Staff. Horadric Cube. Horadric Headpiece. I'm getting a Horadric Headache. Maybe when I wake up, Fara will have a lovely, killer Battle Bow for me to play with."
Kitsilan is now 16 going on 17. Tomorrow she'll get her first taste of desert life.