AN: Hello all, thanks for stopping by. I've said many times in the past that I suck at any and all forms of creative writing, which is why i've never attempted writing my own fanfiction before. But a friend of mine recently got into rendering weapons and such, and graciously made one out of some ideas I suggested. The design he made was awesome, and so I felt compelled to come up with a character and backstory for it. And lo and behold here we are. So yeah, i'm sure my writing style leaves a lot to be desired, so any constructive criticisms you might have would be great. Who knows, this was only meant to be a one-shot, but if there's enough interest and I manage to formulate and interesting enough plot I may actually make this a full story.
(Oh, and very quickly, the characters full name is Ochre Russet, and the weapon's name is Terra Revive. And if you want to see the weapon my friend made, i've included a link on my profile page)
For as long as she could remember, Ochre had dreamed of the forests. In remnant, man had always sought to avoid the dark and enclosed foliage, where danger could lurk in every shadow. Buildings were now built of steel and concrete, not timber and clay. Hunting had given way to farms, strategically placed in wide plains, where trouble could easily be seen and swiftly dealt with. But to Ochre, the forest was home. The years had honed her senses, she could tell which rustles of the leaves were caused by the wind, and which heralded much more sinister things. She could track dinner from the faintest of imprints in the moss, and knew which roots held water for when supplies ran out. To her, the forest was not a dark and deadly place, where only the foul darkness ruled. To her the forest was teeming with life, with flora and fauna. She could spend days there meditating by herself, with nought but the company of the forest's beauty.
It was a sad state of affairs she reflected, as she watched a centuries old redwood fall, the earth trembling as it crashed to the ground whilst the men in hi-vis jackets cheered at their success. Even a huntress as skilled as herself couldn't go it alone out here in the sticks. So when the company had approached her about a job as a security detail, she'd eagerly accepted. There was something sadly ironic she supposed about taking a job helping destroy the very place she loved. But at least this way she could be in its presence, even if her guilt pained her every now and then. Homes might not have been made of timber any more, but until they found a way to make beds and desks out of concrete, the logging industry would flourish. And even though the jobs were dangerously close to Grimm territory, there were always men who could use the money, even hunters.
Ochre was snapped out of her revere as her subconscious began niggling at her that something was wrong. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and her finger began to itch on a phantom trigger. Instinctively she drew Terra Revive from her back. Hunters learned quickly to trust their instincts before their minds had a chance to catch up. Those who didn't weren't hunters for long. The men continued the work, paying her no attention. But under the roaring of the chainsaws and machinery, she could hear something else, the rumble of the ground, and the cracking of trees splintering into nothing. She scurried up the side of a nearby truck, and she scanned the horizon to see if she could see anything. What she saw drained the blood from her cheeks and ripped the breath from her lungs. The canopy of the forest looked like a stormy sea, as though an invisible hurricane was ripping through the leaves. In the very background she could just make out the collapse of an entire swathe of the forest, the brightness of the sun reflecting on the leaves replaced by darkness, a line of black headed straight in their direction.
Her knuckles whitened as she clutched Terra Revive close to her chest. She fired a shot into the air, and quickly the sound of sawing came to a halt as tense heads swivelled in the direction of the noise. As the roar of the tools died down, a much eerier sound replaced it. The sound of thousands of claws could be heard pounding on the ground, despite the dense trees' best efforts to muffle any sounds. From her vantage point Ochre could see within the darkness individual shapes, their powerful forms surging forward, their combined weight trampling everything in their path. From behind the vanguard of the smaller creatures, Ochre could see great behemoths, moving with a drive like with which she had never witnessed. There were so many she thought, praying to herself as she desperately tried to count the numbers. She'd never seen so many together in one place, or move with such combined purpose. As she screamed the order to run, she hoped they'd make it to Vale in time. But with a paralysing thought, she wondered if that would be enough. Vale had always been a beacon, a bastion of safety and human civilisation. Like the other major kingdoms it was the rock upon which all looked to for strength in times of need. But as she watched the sea of pitch bear down upon them, she quietly wept inside to herself, it didn't matter if in the end humanity won this battle or lost it. One way or another, the Grimm were marching on Vale, and only time would tell how many thousands would die in their wake.