Deckard Cain's Galactic Musings

Ah yes, stay awhile and listen! I am Deckard Cain, and I have quite a few thoughts on this strange galaxy that we inhabit.

Ever since Diablo was sealed away in the Holding Pen of Pain, I've had much free time. I felt some adventure away from Sanctuary was in order; an escape from a world ravaged by centuries of Diablo's petty tantrums.

After throwing a dart at the galactic map, the Lylat system seemed to be my first target. What an odd place it turned out to be! Two suns, several inhabited planets, animal people, and a black hole. Corneria is the capital world and quite a place to be, with its shiny cities and hopping night life. And the catgirls. Not quite the catgirls I'm accustomed to, but they were catgirls nonetheless. Strange things, those catgirls. My only complaint is that rainy days carried the scent of wet dog.

Having had my fill of pastries and loose fur, I decided to head to the nearest spaceport and ask around for travel ideas. I ended up meeting a fellow by the name of Frank Croskey. Very emphatic, that man was. Felt like I had to walk on eggshells around that one, only my footsteps were creating literal crunching sounds, and the floor was covered with crumpled beer cans instead of metaphorical eggshells. Any time I tried to ask a personal question, another beer can would find its way to the floor, having ricocheted off my forehead at great speed. Most of his answers were non-specific to my questions, usually things like "Get off my ship!" and "Kijas, fetch me more beer!" I wonder what he meant by that.

What little I learned from Frank gave me insight on an odd and powerful substance called "nexite" and its prevalence on Glade 3. I decided to visit the world and see what I could discover! Perhaps I could fuse some of this nexite within the Horadric Cube to make an interesting item. Certainly it would amount to more than the Scepter of Drunken Fury I created with the sack of Frank's beer cans I had escaped with.

Anyways, Port Caldera is a fascinating place. Have you been to Degwesk Culinarium? The sandwiches are delightful. In fact, everything is delightful. The fat woman who runs the place sure knows how to ply her trade, made all the more obvious by her advanced size. It's as though all the ingredients, frying pans, and ovens were blessed by Tyrael himself. Diablo would probably hate everything on the menu, and that makes me smile.

Of course, now I have to contend with a curious little fellow who has taken a liking to me. I think his name is Sujet. Apparently my magical items and advanced age piqued his interest, and he made a nest in my ship. I'm pretty sure Pacahtuks don't make "nests," do they?

I told him all about the history of the Horadrim, hoping it would bore him away. Alas, his curiosity could not be sated. I mentioned something about unleashing the fury of Frank Croskey upon him as foretold by the Horadric Scrolls, but he only giggled and mentioned having met Frank before and how he had some adventures with him. He also started munching on a bag of potato chips while talking. Those were my chips I was saving for later.

The little fellow did give my ship a tune-up and updated all the software, but now the engine won't start. Something about a runtime error that not even he knows how to fix. As of this writing, I am still stuck here, contending with this furry being who is now haunting me instead of Frank.

Never forget the sacrifices I made for you, Frank.

Never forgeeeet...