Authors Note

Heh, well I didn't expect to take this long to update this story. To tell you the truth considering I despise long waits for chapters of other people's stories I admit being a bit of a hypocrite in that sense. Well what has happened since last time; nothing really except lots and lots of streaming and World of Warcraft (my one weakness and vice). Not much of an excuse I know but considering the amount of content even after playing that bloody game for 7-8 years it has I still haven't scratched the surface (only just downed the Lich King a month ago on Heroic 25 man which is pretty bad considering its about 4 or 5 years old content). Anyways I am not going to blatantly promise the next chapter after this will get done quickly but I am going to try to do my best.

I have been reading over my old content and I have to say the first couple chapters were not written as well as I wanted, it was written at a time when I wanted to get right into the meat of the story but didn't really think it through; I will eventually start to flesh out and re-write at least the first couple chapters. I could do so much better, and explain in better details what my version of the Tribe of Five Hills is like.

Anyways I think before I get started I might cover some comments and questions from my reviews.

Shalifi/Darksnider05: Thanks for the reviews, not going to spoil the whole Hawe/Leah relationship plans but you will certainly see more fleshing out or relationship progress between our favourite Witchdoctor and Leah. I did consider an angstier story line but I will just say keep reading I am quite sure you won't be disappointed.

Darksnider05: About normal Witchdoctor abilities and Harry/Hawe's abilities, normally a Witchdoctor only goes so far; just think of the Witchdoctor's abilities without modifying them. They are pretty powerful but never had been really modified; my take on their society is a kind of stuffy society (kind of like the European Wizarding world depicted in a lot of fan fiction). Their powers, while potent, are conformed and steeped in tradition, I hope to show this either in this chapter or the next what I mean. Let's just say that what you have seen what Harry/Hawe is just the tip of the iceberg.

Mist of Rainbows: I agree; cub has to my knowledge never been a word of endearment that has come up in canon. I would explain it off though that due to Remus both losing all his friends due to death and betrayal, also the fact that after a long and emotional war just ending maybe Lupin's 'inner wolf' had shown its face. Again this is a fan fiction plot device, we don't really know much what Weres are like according to the Harry Potter Universe except some characteristics, some weaknesses and strengths and ways how to calm Werewolves via companions or Wolfsbane Potion. Other than that currently it escapes me if there is anything else known about Weres, Rowling would certainly have to elaborate. Edit: Just looked up on the Harry Potter wiki, Voldy does mention at one point of cubs in regards to Lupin's son but it seems only to mock. I guess your point still stands but I will just file this under creative licence.

Also on the subject of Sirius being available during the meeting following the discovery of baby Harry's disappearance, again there is not much information about the date on Harry being dropped off at the Dursleys. Of course Lily and James Potter is murdered on the 31st of October, we are never told to my knowledge what time they are killed but let us assume they get killed in the evening on Halloween. It takes till morning of the day after the incident for the Wizarding community to find out the demise of Voldemort, we know this because at the start of HP and the Philosophers Stone the community was celebrating so much that it was spilling in the muggle world (Vernon was even 'accosted' by a wizard during that day). According to said book Harry is left on the doorstep that night, so lets say he is dropped off on 1st of November and discovered the next morning by Petunia ergo we speculate he is discovered on 2nd of November.

According to HP and the Prisoner of Azkaban Sirius discovers the bodies of Lily and James the night they die and leaves after Hagrid picks up Harry to take to the Dursleys, straight away he hunts for Peter. We aren't told when he finds Peter but let's say it takes a day or so, by the time that Sirius is being carted off to Azkaban Harry is discovered on the Dursley's doorstep. In this story Harry is picked up the night he is dropped off and it's not till the morning the day after that Harry is discovered missing. By the time the meeting is called Sirius is already on the boat heading for Azkaban. Even if for arguments sake Harry's parents are killed in the wee hours of Halloween and dropped off that night (cause the magic community still nearly compromises their secret during the day) that still means a day of so of Sirius hunting for Peter. Either way Sirius would not be available for the meeting. If there is anything I may have missed feel free to let me know in reviews or even leave me a PM.

JPElles: Thanks for the comment I hope that my story will captivate your curiosity.

PsychoDragonKiller: It's true that no normal human would be able to deal with those foes; you will find out soon enough what Harry/Hawe really is. Let's just say there is a little backstory I will explain about the origins of the world etc. within the next chapter or so ;).

Ronin Kenshin: Thanks for the review, I agree that there aren't that many crosses between HP and Diablo; it's a shame too considering the amazing stories that could come from the right person.

Anyways thanks everyone for reviewing and reading, ended up getting a whole bunch of people favouriting too which is so awesome I never thought I would have people read my shit. Well I am going to not let you wait any longer guys, remember to favourite and review my work I do read every review and take them into account as much as I can. Back to the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Universe, all rights go to J. ; all characters and concepts (both good and bad) are property of J. . I also do not own the Diablo Franchise, all rights go to Blizzard Entertainment. This story is for the express purpose of entertainment only.

Chapter 5

June 6, 1994 – Scotland, Earth

Albus Dumbledore wearily sat back in his office chair; his ancient bones groaning in protest. The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry contemplating the last 12 and a half years following the fall of one of the most infamous Dark Wizards of all time; the wizard known as Lord Voldemort. The Wizarding World had enjoyed a time of peace after the fall of Voldemort (or He Who Must Not Be Named in the hushed polite circles of conversation) not knowing that their saviour, a child named Harry Potter, had gone missing the same night he was delivered to his only remaining relatives. It was in the late morning of the next day that Albus Dumbledore discovered the disappearance of the Boy Who Lived, he made a promise to search high and low for the young child for he knew that the events of Halloween in 1981 was just a mere setback for Voldemort.

It had been 10 long years and Albus had kept an ear out for any possible clue for the young boy, he knew that although lost young Harry Potter was still alive due to the Potter Trust Vault still being active. Had the babe perished then the Goblins of Gringotts Wizarding Bank would know straight away and the accounts associated with the Potters would go inactive. The thought that the boy lives to that day that kept Albus going, even when the date of the young saviour's arrival at Hogarts approached. The elderly Headmaster hoped that somehow the young boy would appear on the Hogarts Express; he never showed.

When the Wizarding Community found about the child's disappearance the backlash was terrible, Albus had only kept his political positions by the skin of his teeth. The public demanded that their saviour be found and government resources were used in the arduous search, after a short 2 years however the search was dropped and the boy assumed dead by greedy politicians trying to get their grimy paws on the Potter Accounts. It was fortunate that there was no evidence of death and the Goblins would not hand over the funds unless proven otherwise. Albus as custodian of the Potter Vaults had them frozen so that no-one could attempt confiscation of the Vaults again; he hoped that when the young wizard had surfaced at least he had accomplished something for the young hero.

The last 3 years had been rough at Hogwarts, on what was supposed to be young Harry's First Year Albus had helped to protect a powerful magical artifact for his long time friend Nicolas Flamel and tried to hide in what he thought was the safest place on the world; Hogwarts. It was on that Halloween that signs that something was amiss, when a Troll was let lose inside the castle nearly accosting a young muggleborn Griffindor by the name of Hermione Granger in a girl's bathroom. It was only because of the quick thinking of two young Ravenclaws; Halfbood Sue Li and Pureblood Padma Patil, that the young brunette survived the encounter. It made Albus' heart lighter though to see the two Ravenclaws take the young Griffindor under their 'wings' and establishing a small study group consisting of all houses; Albus hoped this would be a good step to unifying the school.

It was in the last month of the school year that an attempt to steal the artifact known as the Philosophers Stone came in motion. A mysterious message from the Ministry of Magic arrived for the elderly Mugwump, as he walked in the security gates of the Ministry his pocket watch heated up in alarm; some one had breached his wards and was attempting to steal the Stone! Albus made his favourite Lemon Drop tin into a portkey straight to his office and flew down the stairs in a fashion unlike a gentleman his age to the Third Floor where the previously sealed door was only to see it wide open. He swiftly passed through all the protections with ease only to come up to the final chamber to face his Defence against the Dark Arts Professor Quirrell. The lad had changed the year he spent abroad; wearing a purple, garlic smelling turban he said was a gift from an African prince for dispatching a zombie, the poor stuttering man seemed scared of his own shadow but at that moment the man seemed frantic searching the enchanted mirror (which was the final protection) for any clue to his goal.

'I do not understand, the Stone must be here Master!' Quirrell exclaimed, his hands shaking as he traced the inscription on the mirrors frame in search for any hidden answers. A cruel wheezing voice hissed from the garlic stenched turban,

'Fool, you are too late the old man is here'.

With a start Quirrell faced the Headmaster, a look of fury on his face as he tightened his grip on his wand.

'You will not stop my Master from ascending to his rightful place!' Quirrel sneered at the elderly, bespectacled wizard.

'Quirinus my boy, I will not let your master get his hands on the stone. You still have time to make amends and stand down' Albus beseeched in his grandfatherly tone, Quirrell would have none of that though and raised his wand but paused when the voice from under his turban appeared once more.

'Quirrell, I wish to speak to the old man' the voice whispered, Quirrell protested.

'Master you are not strong enough yet' Quirrel said, a worrisome expression on his face.

'I will for this' whispered the voice menacingly, a twinge of pain ran up Quirrells spine as punishment.

With shaking hands the turban was slowly unraveled spilling on the floor like a purple waterfall, Quirrell turned his bald head and the grotesque face sporting an outline of slits for nostrils, the sight of this sickened Dumbeldore slightly along with a smattering of pity that his once student had fallen this far.

'Tom…what have you done' Dumbledore sadly said, his wrinkled face folding up in sorrow.

'Old man, I maybe mere shadow and vapour but I have reached the pinnacle of Dark Magic; I have obtained immortality.' Voldemort gloated, his blood hewed eyes piercing Albus' crystal blue's own.

'But at what cost Tom? Look what you have become.' Dumbledore tried to reason with his wayward student but was to naught.

'I have become more than I have ever been, once I have the Stone I will be renewed' Voldemort said, 'Kill him my servant!'

Quirrell turned with his wand raised, an incantation on his tongue but the wiley old man was quicker. With a flick his sleek, dark looking wand appeared in his hand and without any incantation a red ball of light escaped his wand in one swift movement. The spell strangely appeared to be off target which Quirrell sidestepped easily but the spell was not meant for him; with a surprising crash it smashed the magic mirror and shattering the glass in thousands of tiny pieces.

'YOU IDIOT, WHAT DID YOU DO. THE STONE IS GONE, YOU HAVE RUINED MY PLAN FOR THE LAST TIME!' Voldemort roared in anger, Quirrell like a shocked mouse turned his eyes to the now destroyed magical artifact. He dropped his wand and fell to his knees frantically rummaging through the glass shards ignoring the sharp pieces of glass slicing his hands to ribbons.

'NO, SORRY MASTER…I BEG YOU, HAVE MERCY!' Quirrell begged knowing the price of failure, hoping his Master would be lenient.

Unfortunately there would be no such leniency, in a rage and in a quite painful method that caused the bleeding, bald headed wizard to convulse in pain; the spirit of Voldemort ripped himself from Quirrell's still living body ripping the man's own soul apart. Quirrell expired in a most painful way, his life blood oozing from his bloodied nose, mouth, ears and glass punctured hands. Albus rushed to the deceased wizards body, discovering that due to the possession of the wizard the body must had already started to deteriorate, the stench of rotten flesh overcame the masking that the garlic smell concealed. There was nothing that he could have done, Albus consoling himself, the poor man was already dead the moment he accepted the possession. An oily looking mist combined together, a dark ethereal face took shape in the image of a dark face with piercing red eyes.

'You old fool, you only delayed the inevitable; the Stone means nothing. Lord Voldemort will return the world will be mine!' the ghostly spirit of Voldemort spat, poisonous barbs piercing from his disembodied mouth.

The voice of Voldemort echoed in Albus' memory as he reached for his bag of lemon drops, hoping that the tart sour taste plus the steaming hot tea that appeared compliments of a castle house elf.

The year following the return of Voldemort's presence came with a lot of challenges starting with the usual difficult yearly search for a new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. It was with a grudging decision that he accepted the help of Ex-Obliviator turned Author Gilderoy Lockhart; not his best instructor to date but the curse on the position had scared many prospects away despite the generous concessions offered. The buffoon seemed to be there though to sell off his overpriced pieces of propaganda he passed off as books and to peddle the teaching position for all its worth to further his image. If it were not for the binding year long contract plus the popularity the man had with the female students Albus would have been forced to render Lockhart's services as terminated. Even with the minor headache aside, the situation with a certain Chamber of Secrets becoming an issue had stained the elderly headmaster's fledging name. With the opening of the Chamber, the petrification of several students plus one of Hogwart's own castle ghosts and one surly looking feline familiar, the school looked to be on the brink of closure. To put the icing on the cake the imprisonment of Hogwart's own groundkeeper Rubeus Hagrid and ousting of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore himself as Headmaster made a perilous situation so much dire.

It was after the disastrous disappearance of young Pureblood First Year Ginevra Weasley and warning that 'her corpse would lay in the chamber forever' that the Headmaster would be reinstated just in time to see a reanimated young teen Tom Riddle kill his latest Defence Professor; not before of course the lucky Obliviation of the newly resurrected Dark Wizard into a vegetable. It was after the use of some of his last political favours to get his groundskeeper released from Azkaban that his phoenix familiar Fawkes had retrieved the unfortunate body of Ginny Weasley. Surprisingly the young girl had not deceased but after awaking from a 2 month long coma revealed the issue of a cursed diary buried somewhere in the Chamber of Secrets out of reach to the elderly wizard, the young Griffindor also suffered from several gaps in her memory suggesting she may need to repeat her First Year. It was a small price to pay for what could have been the death of the young 11 year old.

This year though had been a more disastrous one with the installation of Azkaban's dementors on Hogwarts grounds due to the escape of notorious mass murderer Sirius Black. Even after several meetings with the bumbling Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, Albus could not dissuade the obstinate minister to withdraw the dementor guard away from the Hogwarts children; small mercies that they were ordered not to go on Hogwarts grounds. Thankfully he was able to secure the services of Werewolf Remus Lupin as Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, albeit slightly unwilling but due to debt was able to procure young Remus' help for a year. Of course it was an added bonus that the young man was a competent teacher, a once close constituent of Sirius Black's and a man that had doggedly to that date searched for missing saviour Harry Potter when he was not struggling to procure employment. Remus had changed slightly since his school days, gone was the easy going young man of years passed although hints of the old Remus lingered the young man seemed like the world weighed him down. Albus held slight sympathy for the young Were and hoped that some assistance would help make life a little easier for the shabbily clothed man. Due to preliminary scores alone the choice was a good one, Remus was a hit with the students and scored the highest grade average in a decade.

Apart from the odd dementor encroachment the year had been fairly benign except for a couple occurrences of Sirius Black somehow sneaking into the Griffindor dorm room, an odd abnormality considering Black should have found out of his godson's missing status long ago. Albus had a feeling Black may have been targeting the other possible chosen one candidate; the young 13 year old Pureblood Neville Longbottom so had put in more strict security measures, it wasn't till the end of the year that the truth had come out. After a brief altercation between Sirius Black and Neville and his young friends Pure Blood Ronald Weasley, Half Blood Seamus Finnigan and Muggle born Dean Thomas along with the discovery of Peter Pettigrew alive the situation seemed apparent that things were amiss. If it weren't for the interference of Potion Professor Severus Snape Black and Lupin would have killed Pettigrew, unfortunately in bad timing the full moon had bloomed and Remus had not took his precautions for his lycanthropy. Luckily with the efforts of Sirius and Severus the students were safe but shaken. in the skirmish though the bound Pettigrew had transformed and scurried away in his rat animagus form. The two wizards were able to keep the students safe till sun up, though Black had one upped the hook nosed professor distracting him long enough to slip away. Severus of course was irate and in his anger had revealed Lupin's secret to the whole school, Albus was sad to see the morose Remus tender his resignation. Albus recalled the moment an hour ago as he wished the shabbily dressed man well, wishing he could do more.

Remus Lupin trudged up the familiar path of his tumbledown cottage in the familiar township of Yorkshire, the rundown gate creaking as he opened it the lawn had seen better days; bare in a couple places due to poor maintenance. Wearily Remus opened his front door expecting to smell the familiar musky smell of home, what he didn't expect to smell was a strange yet familiar presence in his living room. The roguish, scruffy bearded face of Sirius Black met the scarred, weary lined face of Remus Lupin, it took a second for the exhausted mind of Lupin to process that his convict friend was sitting on his patchy looking recliner with an almost mad grin on his face. The startled werewolf slammed the door behind him quickly and hastily drew the threadbare curtains close the shabbily clothed man peeking out the window to see if the coast was clear.

'Padfoot are you serious?' Remus questioned the filthy companion; Sirius just grinned and responded cheekily.

'Moony I am always Sirius'.

'Don't you know if you get caught here we both most probably will be sentenced to Dementor's Kiss?' Lupin questioned, the presence of Sirius and the implications that followed sent him into a slight panic.

'I'm not going to stay too long Moony my friend, I just want to know something and I plan to go into hiding' Sirius placated, picking up a tumbler half filled with an amber liquid; the scent of strong liquor emanating from the drink as Sirius took a mouthful. Remus had a feeling he knew what was coming so after retrieving a glass of his own and pouring a drink of his own he slumped in a battered looking wooden chair.

'It's about Harry, isn't it?' Remus asked taking a sip from his beverage.

'Yeah I want to know where my damn godson is, he was supposed to be in Hogwarts but never saw him' Sirius confirmed Lupin's suspicion, the graying werewolf sighed and seemed like a weight lay on his shoulders.

'Harry is missing Sirius'

'WHAT?!' Sirius bellowed leaping to his feet spilling his scotch.

'Your godson, whom you were supposed to be responsible for, has been missing since that Halloween after you left to hunt Pettigrew' Lupin said a sharp look in his eyes.

'He was left on his Aunt's doorstep by Dumbledore but was never discovered the next day' Lupin explained taking a deep gulp from his drink, the burn of the liquor helping him calm himself slightly. Sirius looked murderous, and rushed to the door his mind on confronting Albus Dumbledore, as he grasped the doorknob Remus made a statement that froze Sirius in his tracks.

'Your godson still lives'

'How do you know?'

'Gringotts…I have been trying to track Harry down since he disappeared. Even after he was pronounced dead from the Ministry the goblins would not hand over Harry's inheritance, their records do not lie…your godson is alive, somewhere' Remus stated factually, Sirius turned to his old school friend who seemed lost in thought as he swirled his scotch glass; the alcohol making entrancing patterns on the glass as the light of the afternoon sun streaming from between the curtains hit the glass. Sirius stood there in silence for some time before he turned to the door.

'Meet me at Grimmauld Place in 2 days, we are going to find my godson I swear it' Sirius grimly stated as he let himself out, in a flicker of an eye he turned into his animagus form and padded away swiftly. Lupin sat in silence, the ticking of an ancient looking timepiece on his mantle sounding away. A sense of determination filled the fatigued man as a slight smile crept on his face, he promised then and there he would find Harry Potter; no matter what. In 2 days, the search would continue.

Year 1285 – Alcarnus, Sanctuary

Hawe had seen a lot of slaughter in his short lifetime but as he and his companions entered the crumbling, sandstone and limestone gates of Alcarnus, the meaning of slaughter was being redefined by the youth. Bodies of what looked to have been city guards were ground into a mass of gore, flies flickered the carcasses as the visceral stench of death emanated the air. The stench was vile and carpeted the atmosphere like a wool rug, if it weren't for the sand flicked wind the smell would have been unbearable. Disgust filled the traveling quartet; with a mutter and a tightening of his grip on his machete he summoned 7 zombie hounds and a gargantuan from the cultist bodies that also littered the street. From there the fight through Alcarnus was a blur of blood and demonic screams, a red veil covered the senses of Hawe as he mechanically decapitated a robed cultist trying to stab him in the back with a wicked looking dagger. Kormac, Lyndon and Eirena followed closely, Kormac leaping ahead with his deadly lance and shield stabbing and punting his enemies with his shield with such force it would shatter bone and cartilage.

Lyndon brought out a secret weapon, feeding a bundle of grayish headed bolts and with a twang opened fire on his enemies. As the bolts struck its target a chemical reaction occurred heating up the bolt to such high temperatures it set the bolt and its victim alight in a crimson blaze, the skin of the poor victims split and melted as they died horribly. Eirena was supporting the group in the black, with mighty pushes of arcane power she scattered and dealt with those that tried to attack them from behind and even transformed some straggling foes into small lifestock such as chickens and goats; their primal instincts causing them to flee the battlefield. The hordes of enemies were relentless; groups of demons were summoned into existence by the sacrifice of the summoners themselves but the group pressed on. As the inner keep of the town was entered and a familiar vile witch was spotted, Hawe recalled the last time he laid eyes on the purple and green clad witch.

Flashback

It was like a garish nightmare under the crumbling ruins of Leoric's Mansion, unexpectedly the once lavish turned spoiled décor opened up into the Mad Kings own dungeons and torture chamber. The derelict dungeon ruins which were filled with the tortured souls of Leoric's victims who could not move on opened up to what looked like a dungeon converted into a scalding hot crematorium. After clearing the halls of the demonic filth it contained the weary group of Hawe, Kormac and Lyndon descended in silence down a long winding stone stair. It had been 2 days since the passing of Deckard Cain and Hawe pushed on with little to no sleep, as they entered a large circular room floored with thick iron plates and stone and what they hoped would be the deepest part of the dungeon a heavy set portcullis made of cold iron bars as thick as a man's forearm dropped from the rooms entrance; trapping them from escape. After testing the heavy gate and failing to budge a familiar yet unwelcome voice echoed through the room, the winged figure of Maghda was spotted sitting on a stone outcropping high above the room with a malicious purple lipped smile on her face.

'Glad you could make this far' Lyndon just responded by shooting a bolt at the evil sorceress which just proved fruitless, the bolt struck the stone wall behind her the projectile singing through her ethereal body.

'How rude, I just wanted to talk. Oh well you may have come this far but this room shall become your tomb. I would like to introduce you to someone, we call him The Butcher' Maghda said smugly, a squealing of metal on metal rang in the room as a large iron plate on the wall slid up revealing a think wooden portcullis. Behind the barrier stood an extremely tall and buff, scarlet coloured demon. Judging by the size Hawe thought this monstrosity was at least 5 metres tall, heavily muscled wearing a scraggly old leather blacksmiths apron. The hide of the monster was cut up in several places and appeared to be stapled closed with thick metal staple 3 fingers in diameter, he had horns similar to antelope's and thick hoofed feet. The Butcher had tusk like protrusions coming out of its cheeks and had a full mouth of jagged sharp fangs, the monstrosity held in his left hand a wicked looking hook attached to a thick, black metal chain which after a length of chain wrapped around his brawny forearm. In his other he held a deadly looking cleaver as large as a battle axe, the top covered in skulls and the spine of the blade decorated with spikes.

'I will let you deal with them, make sure to kill them all' Maghda cackled as she disappeared in a flash of purple and green flames, The Butcher not waiting for the gate to open and splintered the wooden portcullis like a row of matchsticks. With a mighty swing The Butcher attacked the group with his wicked looking cleaver, the fighters scattering trying to surround the demon. Lyndon shot several bolts into the back of The Butcher only sticking in his hide and making him angry, the demon surprisingly through his hook straight at Lyndon; Lyndon narrowly escaping by rolling forward tenderizing the small of his back as he struck a small rock. Hawe mentally ordered a set of 5 zombie dogs to attack the beast, after clamping their jaws on the thick legs of The Butcher the young witchdoctor muttered an incantation making his minions explode energetically. Unfortunately other than drawing a lot of blood and giving the demon a slight limp the attack seemed to not affect The Butcher much except to focus his gaze on Hawe, he stomped at Hawe like a stampeding herd of wildebeest and swung his cleaver effortlessly at the youth. If it weren't for the efforts of Hawe's templar friend deflecting the blow he may have been cleaved in two, unfortunately Kormac wasn't strong enough to deflect the whole attack, the top edge of The Butcher's cleaver sliced at Hawe's right shoulder cutting to the bone. Kormac spun as he deflected the blow and with a mighty yell stabbed The Butcher in the left wrist, cutting tendon and forcing it to drop its hook. He then followed up with a swipe of his shield managing to smack the demons jaw with edge of the shield slightly stunning the demon.

Lyndon had a clear shot then took aim and fired a bolt at the face of the monstrosity, the bolt sang in the air and with a satisfying thunk struck the demon piercing its right eye. With a bellow he dropped his cleaver and held his blinded eye, the shaft still protruding out the demon's skull, The Butcher's blood streaming down its face. Unfortunately what should have been the coup de grace made the monster boil with rage, roaring he picked up the dropped cleaver and turned his focus on the moustachioed thief. Lyndon in his haste to manoeuvre for another shot lost his footing, tripping over an uneven corner of a metal plate he misfired and toppled backwards losing his crossbow with a cry of frustration. Knowing that Lyndon was a sitting duck Kormac launched his lance at the already charging demon, missing the spine that he aimed for but ended up hitting the back of The Butcher's knee. Not able to support the bulk of the heavy demon the joint gave way, Hawe taking his chance mounted the beast's back just as it got a few feet away from its quarry. Hawe with both hands drove his razor sharp machete in the space between the top vertebrae and the cranium of the Butcher demon driving the blade home to the hilt till it erupted from the beast's throat. The Butcher started shaking in its death throes, its life blood pouring out its exit wound. After several seconds of thrashing it stilled, Hawe drew his blade from his slain enemy and with his empty hand put pressure over his shoulder wound trying to stifle the bleeding.

'Well, took you long enough!' Lyndon cockily said as he was helped up by Kormac, kicking the slain beast in the side as he went to retrieve his weapon.

'Look at that, you took a chunk out of Betsy!' Lyndon scoffed as he traced a gash that marked the chestnut, lacquered stock of his crossbow.

'Betsy?' Kormac jokingly queried, Lyndon just raised a fine eyebrow.

'Yes, well she's got to have a name doesn't she?' Lyndon questioned, 'Doesn't your weapon have a name?' Kormac just looked bewildered, Lyndon just shook his head.

'Well I guess we do have strange people in this godforsaken world'

'So, where do we go from here?' Lyndon questioned looking around; Hawe just pointed with his machete where The Butcher broke through the portcullis, in the dim light a passage was seen behind the barrier.

'Well onward and upward good sir!' Lyndon said with a grin shouldering his crossbow. The group marched on into the darkness.

Hawe shook off the memory as a poisonous smirk covered Maghda's face, now was not the time to reminisce. Now was the time to focus on the one thing that drove the young witchdoctor; making Maghda pay for the death of Elder Cain!

'So, I see you finally arrived Nehalem…hope you enjoyed my welcome party?'

And I think I will end it there, don't worry though as you are reading this I am writing up the next chapter…I promise. I realized near the end I may need a little humour in the story so although this story is mainly serious (Sirius hehehe) I plan to put in a little humour to break up the seriousness at times. Also I know that my description of The Butcher's death might be pretty gruesome but I thought the game is a pretty violent game so I thought tonight the gore down would give the Diablo series a disservice. Ultimately people in the Diablo universe tend to die pretty horribly (think Aiden as he shoves the soulstone in his forehead as an example). Anyways the next instalment if I keep at it will be coming really soon where we explore a bit more of Hawe's past, the death of Maghda and other fun stuff.