The Doom Chronicle

Chapter 1

"On your left!"

Siravyn barely had time to react when the bullet whizzed by their ear. They whipped around and glared at Azin, who smiled apologetically. The artificer's newest shotgun was a powerful model perfect for slaying airborne demons – not his comrades. Siravyn sighed. Azin's aim needed improvement.

No time to think about that. The Hell Knight swung at them, leaving Siravyn scrambling backwards. They pointed their staff at the beast and a stream of glowing light slashed through its arm. The demon snarled and tried to charge again, but Siravyn dodged and stabbed it in the ribs before blowing it to pieces with their magic. They smiled a bit; they hadn't yet taken down a heavy demon on their own.

"Nice work!" Deracles yelled from across the battlefield. He had just slain a pack of imps and was charging towards Siravyn. He dashed past a wheezing Azin, who was loading his gun and getting ready to take a shot at a nearby Cacodemon.

Siravyn's head snapped to the right when they heard a loud wail. They watched in awe as an Arch-Vile screamed in agony, its leg severed. Laervik laughed wildly as she swung her axe into the demon's chest; it screamed once more, then fell silent as it collapsed to the ground. She wiped her blood-covered face, then, without a second to spare, blocked the heavy hand of a Baron. Laervik shoved the Baron away and stabbed the mini spear on her axe handle through its jaw.

Siravyn sprinted over to help Laervik. Admittedly, the leader of the Order of Night didn't really need help, but it felt nice to pretend that Siravyn was making a difference in the fight. They used a bit of healing magic to seal up a deep wound on Laervik's shoulder, then sent a beam of light out before an imp to blind it. The axe-wielding warrior easily dispatched it.

"Thanks," Laervik exclaimed with a toothy grin. She turned back to the battlefield and surveyed it carefully. Most of the demons were dead; the still-living ones would soon join their still siblings. Azin had shot down the last Cacodemon, and he and Deracles was now approaching Laervik and Siravyn triumphantly. "Another battle won," she said as the two men got close enough to hear her. "Congratulations, everyone."

"Hell's forces are weakening – at least, in this region," Deracles noted. He ran a hand through his short, dark hair. "Perhaps Ullola will see our victory and join our cause."

Laervik chuckled bitterly at that. "If Razidore can pull his head out of his ass, sure."

"He'll come around," Siravyn said hopefully. "Remember Aekka? We thought she would never join us. But now she's always sending us supplies. We have to have hope, Laervik."

The warrior sighed. "Razidore will be difficult to convince. He's been in the hand of the Makyrs for a very long time. Even if the Khan Makyr is dead, there are still Makyrs on Argent D'nur, and they and the priests won't give up their contacts so easy."

"I'm sure we could convince them," Azin commented, casually twirling one of his pistols around on his finger.

"Isn't that dangerous?" Deracles scolded.

"Only in the wrong hands!" The artificer quipped, grinning widely. "Anyway, I say we get back to Ullola, talk to Razidore, and offer our alliance."

Laervik was already walking towards the cart, her battle axe slung over her shoulder. "Well, get your asses in gear, everyone. We've got a long road ahead of us."

Siravyn trotted beside Azin as the group headed to their wagon, Lady Faithful. The old cart had belonged to Azin's father and was used to transport minerals and precious gems before the Order of Night repurposed it. Azin had personally modified it to suit the group's needs and was almost always tinkering with it.