2Howdy folks, this is fic is more of a chance for me to get a feel for how to better represent the characters in my Homebrew setting 'The Endless Seas of Ayax' for my players. I'm not certain if I'll make too many of these but if this gets popular enough then who knows? anyway enough talk, enjoy.
Of Endless Seas and Rising Tides
Swirling winds thrashed trees and stirred clouds, blanketing the sky in a foreboding sheet of Grey, lighting cracking it with violent flashes of orange. The very air itself alive with the fury of a single woman; Amber, the Fall Maiden. Her eyes ablaze with the ancient magic of the Wizard inherited from the final thoughts of her predecessor. The air itself holding her aloft as she stared down vehemently at the two who dared trick her, a pair of the Witch's lackeys no doubt. They had come to kill her, steal her power, and whatever else these sick fools hoped to gain from the Witch's favour. Gods only know how many lives they'd bring to ruin if they succeeded.
Amber wouldn't give them a shred of mercy.
With a flick of her wrist, lightning struck down from the heavens themselves, Green and Gray dodged out of the way at the last second, waves of topsoil thrown up behind them as they opened fire once again. Another of Green's damned illusions throwing off the maiden's aim no doubt, she'd have to die first.
Their pitiful shots were easy enough to block with artificiality strengthened aura, and though more lighting seemed tempting, she needed something more substantial and harder to miss with. A gesture to the nearby forest and the winds eagerly carried a veritable tornado of leaves that swirled around her, freezing solid in moments before screeching down toward them like a storm of daggers, their auras flaring to stop them from being cut to ribbons.
A flicker of movement caught Amber's eye from the left; another assassin, this one garbed in a striking crimson dress. Not the most inconspicuous cloth for the profession, but it mattered little; she'd fall like the rest. Flinging a condensed ball of flame at her, Amber prepared to finish off her cohorts and- Before she could react, Amber grunted as she was pelted with a barrage of glass spears, sending her tumbling out of the sky in a heap. Of course, she let her guard down now! Oum Damn it!
Grunting as pulled her head up, Amber was greeted by the contemptible faces of... nothing? She blinked, panic beginning to seep into her mind. More illusions? A flicker on the road caught her attention; Crimson was sprinting straight at her with her lackeys in tow, disappearing and reappearing like a computer with unbearable lag making it impossible to aim any of her spells. Amber was barely on her feet before the assassin was almost on top of her...
At the last moment, a tremendous and terrible crack echoed throughout the clearing, and for a single, agonising moment, Amber thought she'd been run through. Thankfully, whatever the sound was seemed to catch her assailant off guard as much as her, leaving her open to an all too satisfying kick to the gut. Sending her foe skidding across the ground. Calling her staff back to her hand, Amber refocused on her opposition considering her options as the assassins exchanged worried glances. They were undoubtedly well-coordinated, powerful and Amber herself lacked experience using her powers, she wasn't sure if she could come out of this unscathed. Perhaps she should try to escape and find that useless excuse for a bodyguard Ozpin trusted for whatever reason...
Suddenly another crash boomed out, far more substantial and closer, like a colossal thud. Casting a glance to her right, Amber caught a glimpse of the disturbance that had interrupted her assassins. Whatever it was, it was big, bigger than even a Goliath, and... red? It indeed a creature of some variety, and it wasn't a Grimm. The powers of a maiden meant she could sense them far before they got anywhere as close as this thing was. It seemed to have just fallen out of the sky, as the torn up dirt surround the crater it made could attest. It seemed reptilian and were those protrusions wings? Amber wasn't sure what she was looking at, and it appeared that her foes were as clueless as her, whispering to each other and likely deciding whether this new turn of events warranted a retreat.
"I don't care what that thing is. We're too close to hesitate now! Follow the plan, and we'll be-" Crimson retorted, causing Amber to be ready herself for another onslaught before she was cut off for the third time.
A low guttural growl that reverberated deep within the core of all who heard drew Amber and her assailants out of their thoughts as the presumably stunned creature began to stir. A waft of almost uncomfortably warm air blew out as the beast righted itself and stood to its full height, finally giving an unobscured look at it. Amber blinked, it was... a Dragon? It indeed resembled the fictional creature, four incredibly powerfully built legs tipped with a set of savage claws. A slender tail twitched lazily behind it but looked no less imposing, a pair of enormous bat-like wings and a long curved neck topped with a reptilian face and two pairs of wicked-looking horns extending back from its brow.
What truly gave Amber pause, however, was its eyes. Burning the colour of fire, those line-like slits stared through her, setting off an intense, primal terror. This thing, this Dragon, it was far worse than any Grimm. She could feel something eerily familiar emanate from it, the same way it seemed to radiate heat.
Magic.
It was different from when Amber called on her Maiden powers; the Dragon's was more harsh and overwhelming. Like it's mere presence threatened to drown her. What was worse, however, was the way it looked at her. The way it paused and seemed to observe what was happening, it suggested intelligence. Though said assumption was technically correct, the extent to which, however, was far greater than even Amber imagined.
"Well, what is this? A robbery? How terribly quaint." the Dragon said in a guttural but oddly feminine voice as it drew closer, it's enormous size becoming far more apparent with eerily quiet every step.
Its tongue flicked out, tasting the air like a snake, followed by two sharp inhales from its nostrils. "The little Waif doesn't even have anything of significant value on her, why bother going through all the trouble?" It continued, coming to a stop just behind the rickety picket fence on either side of the pathway. "No gold, no supplies of any particular value… A hired hit perhaps? Doesn't smell of finery nor hold herself in a way to suggest nobility… Such flamboyant cloth for assassins too. How novel."
"I... Excuse me?" Crimson sputtered, utterly astounded by the intelligent speech the massive creature seemed to mutter to itself, before her expression shifted to thinly veiled anger, "I don't know who or what you are, but this is not any of your business. Leave, or you will regret it."
"You presume to decide what is and is not the business of a great Wyrm? You must be very brave or very foolish, and judging by your expression, you are the latter. The former would not have assured themselves of victory before a battle even begun." The Dragon said with a hint of amusement before her tone shifting to a far more menacing one, the ambient heat raising as if to accentuate the point. "Had you suffered the fate of meeting of another of my less reasonable kin, this conversation would already be over, and you would be nothing but ash."
Crimson looked about to retort and ready her weapon when she suddenly froze, eyes bulging out of her head. Clutching at her throat like she was choking before just staring down at her hands. What happened? She looked ready to attempt to fight the colossal reptile when she appeared to be overcome with sudden, paralysing fear. Green and Grey seemed just as bewildered as Amber felt.
"Perhaps if you had been more polite and amicable, I might have left you to your little... enterprise." the Dragon said, calming somewhat though retaining an edge to her voice "But now? I'm feeling spiteful. Make yourself scarce, and I may let you be on your... Hm, were any of you expecting a friend?"
Turning to where the Dragon was looking, Amber's heart leapt. The familiar scent of sprits hit her nose as her useless bodyguard finally showed up. "Qrow!" Amber said with the first bit of genuine joy she'd ever directed at the stinking drunkard.
"You and I are going to have a chat about running off while I'm asleep when we get back." Qrow grumbled, glancing at the assassins and then the Dragon, "Care to explain what the hell I'm looking at?"
"Witch's assassins and a dragon. Your guess is as good as mine on that last one though."
"Great, as if we don't have enough problems as it is."
"Cinder, we have to go now. We can't fight the maiden, a dragon and Qrow Branwen, we've failed." Green said, an affirmative grunt coming from Grey, "We have to get away while we still can."
"This isn't over." Cinder almost snarled as she began to back away, stealing a scowl while she trembled under the Dragon's gaze, "You will regret this."
"No, I don't think I will." the Dragon growled, the gaps in her neck scales flaring red then yellow as she turned to face the crimson assassin, "You should have fled before I had a chance to look at you more closely. I can see it in your eyes. You want only for power for the sake of having it, a hunger that will never be sated, a thirst never to be quenched." She continued, her inner heat wafting out like a furnace, blacking the grass under her and setting drifting leaves in the air alight, "It is a feeling that I am all too familiar with."
A moment passed as the great Dragon loomed over the would-be assassins, a deathly silence echoing across the field. Crimson stared up definitely at the massive creature despite the traitorous shake in her knees, making small, almost unnoticeable gestures with her fingers at her cohorts.
These silent orders would never be carried out; it was over before it began.
At the first twitch of movement, the Dragon unleashed a torrent of fiery death from her maw, engulfing their half of the pathway before they even had a chance to scream. Catching them all with its sheer volume even though the trio dashed in different directions, the blinding cloud consumed them all. So intense was the heat from the Dragon's breath that both Amber's and Qrows Auras flared, Amber even unintentionally called on her maiden powers to cool herself. "A fool to the end, indeed."
"Oum..." Qrow breathed, taking in the smoking remains of the path and the blackened remains of the would-be assassins and gagging on the scent of charred flesh, "Amber you need to get out of here right now, get to Ozpin. I'll distract it while you get to safety, I'll catch up when-"
"Bold of you to openly discuss your plan like that." Came the Dragon's voice as she turned to focus on the huntsman and his charge, "But don't let me stop you, by all means, see what good it does you."
That gave Qrow pause, realisation creeping across his face far slower than Amber would have liked. Amber had to diffuse this quickly, even the Fall Maiden's power would not stand up to this Dragon. If she tried to fight, she'd be scattered to ashes, every fibre of her knew it. "Qrow, I couldn't beat her even if I was at full strength. You don't stand a chance." Amber said dejectedly, Qrow's eyes bulge in disbelief.
"You speak sense sorcerer; perhaps you'll be more responsible than that contemptible creature." The Dragon replied, curling its tail around herself as she sat down as if nothing could harm her. "Would you kindly inform me as to where exactly I am, and who I am speaking to?"
Amber was surprised by how quickly the creature shifted to courteous tone, considering that she mercilessly immolated three people mere moments ago. "I-I'm Amber, and this is Qrow, you are in the Kingdom of Vale. If I may, who are you?" Amber chose her words carefully, not wanting to anger the beast.
"Vale? I can't say I've ever heard of a kingdom baring that name, hm, troubling." the Dragon murmured, bringing a paw to her chin in a bizarrely human gesture, "As for myself, you stand before Celzrirth Armul, the Crimson Bane of Ras' lune. Tell me, do you know of the Grey Peninsula? Of Northbreach, the greatest city of Tromia?"
Northbreach? Tromia? What was this Celzrirth talking about? Those sounded like names Amber would remember if they were as crucial as they seemed. By the expression on Qrow's face, he was just as clueless as ever. Damn it; Amber hated being in the dark like this.
"I see." Celzrirth said, reading their expressions and twitching her tail in irritation, "They must have sent me far to the south then, contemptible fools. Damn them all."
"What do you mean they sent you? Who are they?" Qrow asked, his eyes continually shifting, desperately searching for an escape.
"The Salem's archmages." Celzrirth spat with a venomous hiss, the name earning Amber and Qrow's undivided attention. "So quashed under the heel of the king and unable to see his lies that they would rather provoke my ire then even so much as question him, even when he'd risk bringing those things into the world."
Once again, Amber didn't know what to make of what Celzrirth. She wasn't referring to the Witch; she only worked for herself and whatever her end goal was. Was there some sort of Grimm King that she didn't know about? No, Ozpin would've caught wind of that before she'd even been born. Had the Witch discovered some other source of magic separate from the Maidens? Possibly. Once again, Amber was missing some much-needed context, leaving her just as confused and scared as she felt when she first entered this damned shadow war. Though, if it was any consolation, the drunkard seemed even more bewildered than her.
"But that doesn't mean anything to you, does it?" Celzrirth continued, spreading her wings wide with intent, "I need not waste any more time here, if you value the life of your fellow man, then you will not pursue me. Vignari ekess vignari."
With that final alien phrase ringing in Amber's mind, the Dragon Celzrirth took flight. The wicked gust of hot air from her wings sending a torrent of stones scattering in all directions, rocking nearby trees and bowling the maiden and her bodyguard off their feet. Higher and higher she rose, mighty wings holding aloft the body of a creature so large it had no right to call the sky it's home. Shrinking into the distance far more quickly than what Amber thought possible before disappearing into the grey clouds. The thunderous wingbeats were fading into an eerie silence, leaving the path unnaturally still and the soul witnesses to gather themselves. The wafting scent of burnt flesh and the throbbing pain of her injuries from the encounter served as the only reminder that this was not a bizarre dream.
"That happened, right?" Amber asked as the drunkard fished through his coat and produced a flask of his emergency supply, "I'm not bleeding out on the ground, hallucinating that this as I leave the land of the living?"
"Well, that depends on whether or not the shakey footage I nabbed amounts to anything," Qrow replied as he took a long swig, "But I'd say that the smoking corpses left behind are a reasonable indication. Either way, I'd say we have something to report, and Ozpin is not going to like it."
"I think we can both agree on that…" Amber mumbled before she registered what her bodyguard just said, "You got your scroll out to film it flying away? Since when have you been competent enough to think of important things like that?"
"I may be a 'drunkard' as you like to say behind my back when you think I'm not listening," Qrow retorted with a mild edge before producing the scroll in question and tossing it to the injured fall maiden. "But I've been in this game long enough to remember that wild stories need proof behind them. Regardless, we need to get back to Vale sooner rather later."
"Ha, even seeing at it again, I can't believe what I'm looking at," Amber mumbled as she finished watching Qrow's amateurish filming catch the last glimpses of Celzrirth ascending into the clouds. "Before we go, I have to go get Harper before she runs off too far."
"Who?"
"My horse, how do you think I got so far?"
If there were any emotion running through Celzrirth the moment she gazed upon the shattered moon of Remnant, it would be anger. A furious bubbling rage that no mortal could ever begin to comprehend. It was the anger of the mightiest of the Chromatic Dragons, a Red, who had been denied her self-imposed mission. Anger at the idiot king of Northbreach, at the Archmages who served him and at herself for sparing them. Yes, perhaps in her desire to avoid angering mortals as she was taught, she had endangered her mission. Set herself up for failure even. But above all that, she cursed her stupidity at underestimating mortals like so many of her kind — those who she despised above all else.
Roars louder and more violent than even the mightiest and most ancient of Grimm echoed through the desserts of Vauco, lighting up the sky in bright plumes of ignited fury. The sand was turned to glass and rocks were shattered as the ancient Dragon set her ire upon her earth itself. Hours upon hours she raged, glassing the sands and setting the sky ablaze until she could call upon her inner fire no longer and collapsed with an almighty crash.
When Celzrirth recovered her senses, disgust crawled up her throat as she surveyed the scene around her. It had been three and a half centuries since she last lost her temper, and as paradoxical as it was, she prided herself on distancing herself from her baser draconic instincts. As fruitless an endeavour as that was.
With one last mighty sigh, the Crimson Bane righted herself and reviewed her situation without the unrelenting haze of rage consuming her. There was no point in being angry over something she couldn't change, that lesion had been drilled into her mind as a whelp. She had been displaced from Blackleigh Castle, cast through the Astral Sea to some unknown plane of existence by the throngs of some unfathomable magic.
Most glaringly was the shattered moon that hung in the sky as a morbid reminder of her situation, taunting her with the visage of the cataclysm she had foreseen, almost mockingly. The stars were in all the wrong places, and something in the air felt wrong; moreover, the sun and moon seemed to be separate entities in this place rather than the two sides of Elsyem and Arcadia that hung over the Endless Seas of Ayax.
This place was like a parody of everything she was familiar with, trees and plains and deserts and mountains and oceans and air for her wings to carry her over all of them. Yet everything seemed out of place. Like someone had slinked into her lair to rearrange all her possessions without her somehow realising. Not to mention those bizarre black beasts that occasionally threw themselves at her with no regard for their own lives. Even demons had enough sense not to challenge her, but these foul things cast their lives at her for the cause of irritating the great wyrm.
Celzrirth's mind invariably wandered to thoughts of her hoard, her conquests, her trophies…
Her treasure.
It was undoubtedly well defended and hidden, Celzrirth wouldn't've dared leave on her mission if she weren't certain it would be safe without her. But now? Stranded in some unknown corner of existence for a far more extended period than she expected? She wasn't so confident anymore. Part of her wanted to fly into a blind rage again, but her more logical side quickly quashed that part. She needed a plan, a course of action, something to work toward.
Perhaps she was not stranded here alone. The device the Salem used against her seemed almost haphazardly constructed for lack of a better word. Maybe the fools had thrown themselves to this place with her. One could hope. If that were the case, then she would find them. Nothing had ever been able to stop the Crimson Bane when she set her mind to something, and she intended to maintain that trend as long as she lived. But the question was then if they were here, how would she find them? She needed more information.
The ring around her left index talon that she took from that particularly zealous Gold Wyrm would undoubtedly be invaluable to her cause. It can not be understated how useful being able to assume a more inconspicuous form is, little wonder why Metallic's kept the technique to make them so well hidden.
A flash of worry followed by a wave of relief washed over Celzrirth as she felt the Crown of the Starseeker still discreetly tucked between her horns. Perhaps the most valuable object in her entire horde and definitively the mightiest in raw power, that crown is the one thing she couldn't bring herself to leave behind. The thought of the Artefact's earthshaking power being hers to call at a moment's notice in this strange world relaxed the ancient Red as she spread her wings wide once more.
Soaring high into the crisp night sky, Celzrirth left behind the blackened sands behind her. Rising high than the clouds with renewed vigour and purpose, the Crimson Bane set forth across the skies of Remnant with a feeling not dissimilar to liberation with the slightest hint of nostalgia. It had been far too long since she had been this free. Free to choose a direction and fly without fear of some upstart stealing all that she had earned, free to explore a foreign land with limitless possibilities. Celzrirth would make it back to her mission in time, but that didn't mean she wouldn't make the best of it. Woe unto any who would dare to stand in her way.
Blackened skies that crackled with thunder always hung over the Grimmlands, seemingly a stain on the world itself. The air itself seemed to poison any life that drew too near and obsidian spires of rock that longed to pierce flesh dotted the landscape. Hateful creatures stalked these ashen plains and crevices splitting the earth like ever-watchful guardians, meeting any attempt the civilised world tried to bring to this place with a storm of teeth and claws. Death stalked these lands, which made it all the odder when a lone figure seemed to cross over the threshold.
From a distance, it looked like a man. But were it merely a man, it would beast of one, it towered over any prey the elder Grimm had seen. It bore set of blackened armour trimmed with gold and carved with gruesome imagery of bones and violence, leaving no part of the creature beneath visible. Griped in its left hand was a wicked halberd, metal thorns wrapped its shaft like thorned vines that ended in a head that looked so cruel it almost seemed unwieldy. Its helmet modelled after a crowned skull bearing a monstrous visage that almost resembled some traits of the Grimm themselves, virtually unheard of for most prey to model their tools after. Two pinpricks of red light shone from the skulls eyes, ever staring ahead.
Watchful, hateful eyes gazed upon the being who had no right being here.
Still, it approached.
Perhaps it merely wished for death and had come to accept its fate with open arms.
It drew nearer.
Finally, a younger creature could no longer contain itself and bolted for the easy kill. Savage claws bore down upon the earth, bringing it closer and closer to the intruder that cast its life aside. Then, without warning, the young Beowolf ground to a halt, seemingly startled by something. This being, it smelt of death, reeked of death, not even a spark of life remained, and yet it still walked like the living that the Grimm dispised. It no longer knew how to act; it radiated negativity like a beacon and yet, there was no light to snuff out. It was baffling to the young Grimm.
But the being seemed not to share any of the creature's hesitation.
In an instant, a skeletal hand covered in a black gauntlet snatched up the shrieking and snarling thing by the neck in an immovable vice. Reacting to the monsters desperate clawing and biting as though it weren't even there, red burning lights shining out from behind its helmet where should be. Its grip tightening ever so slowly as the Grimm's struggling grew fiercer and fiercer, it's anguished cries muffling more and more under pressure. Until a weighty crack echoed out and the struggling ceased.
The dead thing seemed perplexed as the Grimm crumbled to dust in its hand before turning to the black horde watching it as if expecting a reaction. Glowing hateful stares was all the being received. They too seemed to have realised that this being was unlike anything they had ever encountered, suffering the same indecisiveness as the lowly pup, only watching intently as it stared back at them. Without any instinctive cause to strike this being, the Grimm cautiously parted and allowed it to pass, more Grimm flocking to see what had drawn such a crowd. A single phrase whispering out of its helmet as it followed the path laid out by the black beasts;
"Death comes..."
Feel free to PM me any questions u may have about the setting if your interested, till then, peace!