DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything from the Dark Souls trilogy or RWBY series, and I do not own any other characters, places, or organizations that appear in this fanfic. They all belong to their respective owners or corporations.

Update: No longer multicrossover

"You there, boy, you're standing in my way."

"..."

"Please, move."

"..."

"My patience will not be tested by a petty soldier of Mirrah; move now."

"... No."

"What? Do you even know of me, boy?"

"I do..."

"Then you know it would wise if you obey my command, if you wish to live..."

"I'll move for you... on one condition."

"And that is?"

"... Give me your axe, old man, and I'll let you pass."

"..."

"You can refuse if you want, it'll just make it more fun to take it from ya."

"... I've killed dozens of soldiers on the battlefield; some being soldiers of Mirrah, just like you. What is it that gives you confidence of defeating me?"

"Your old age, it has put you in a weaken state."

"... Is that it?"

"Did I stutter, old fool? Or is your hearing not what it used to be? Ya should know by now that there are these things called hearing-aids."

"Keep talking, boy, it'll only make me feel less guilty of killing another mother's arrogant son."

"Keh heh heh heh... I heard the story of why you retired: human's are frail opponents, whereas dragons are the total opposite. So you decided to go out and kill as many dragons as you can, to test yourself."

"..."

"But what total bullshit, we both know the truth: you retired just because of your age turning you into a total bitch. Now I'll tell you this one more time: give me your axe, or I'm gonna eviscerate you with it..."

"How about this, boy: step aside, or die, simple as that. You won't stand a chance with that pale imitation of yours..."

"WAKE UP!"

The shout, along with cold salt water being thrown out of a bucket and upon the prisoner, was more than enough to agitate the man as he awoke, prompting him to lunge at the woman with his cuffed hands open. It was so sudden that the knight had no idea what he was doing until his chain-gloved hands entombed her throat with a surprisingly solid grip.

He was strangling her.

She dropped the bucket over the row boat as she called for her companion's help, who at the time was rowing their boat to the beach with two steers. Her raspy pleas were fortunately loud enough for the larger knight to hear, turning to see the sight that was unfolding behind him. He immediately reached for his rapier, pulled it out, and lunged forward with it pointed to the back of the prisoner's neck.

But he never reached his target; the man moved his entire body to the left of the boat, nearly tipping it over, and causing the knight to instead pierce the throat of the other captor. Gurgling and gagging soon filled the cloudy atmosphere, with blood flowing out of the new orifice in the woman's throat, and alongside more spewing out of her mouth.

The male captor stared with unwavering horror and disbelief. Fury and intent to kill dominated those feelings however as he pulled his rapier out of her throat, turning to attack the prisoner.

Only he was beaten to striking the next blow; the prisoner had grabbed his axe, holding onto the shaft with both of his hands, and decapitated the male captor with metal and electrical sparks. His head went flying into the water, creating a small splash, and the headless body slumped over the edge of the boat, with crimson spraying into the water.

The prisoner's loud breathing began to compete with the woman chocking on her own blood, whom he turned around to look at, seeing her covering her throat with her left hand. A bit of blood was still flowing out, breaching in between her fingers. The armored prisoner smiled under his steel mask-helmet, closing the distance between him and his injured captor, who started to squirm away until he wrapped his arm around her waist, kneeling down to meet her crying brown eyes and with his lifeless blue ones.

The man chuckled, and dropped his axe to his side to snatch a key off of the dying woman's belt. It was a struggle to awkwardly position his hands in order to unlock the rectangular wooden cuff, but it was worth the effort. After he unlocked the cuffs and clipped them to his belt for future use, the now-free knight looked over to the woman, looking more and more pale every second.

But despite dying, she still had enough energy to spit a mixture of saliva and blood onto the grey tunic of the prisoner. "Fuck you, Creighton!" More blood poured over her lips as she cursed the man, who again chuckled in amusement.

"Oh Jessetiel," Creighton reached for her hand which covered her vulnerable throat, moving it with ease, "die." He forcibly shoved his whole left hand into the orifice, causing the female captor release a cracking-cry of pain as he ripped the insides of her throat apart, squeezing even more blood out the opening and her mouth.

She started to cry near the end, with Creighton finishing her off by grabbing his axe with his right hand and swinging it downwards, hitting the top of her head with the axeblade. A bit of yellow sparks sprayed out along with the woman's blood as he ripped it out of her cranium, creating a hybrid sound of crackling electricity and wet squish.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her skull, and Creighton removed his hand from the inside of her throat, finding it to be soaked in liquid crimson. But he didn't mind that; there were more pressing matter on his mind now, like what to do now.

He looked up to see that he was pretty far out from the larger vessel which he and two dead captors sailed on to reach their destination. The boat was filled with even more captors, just like the two deceased in the row boat, all armed to the teeth. But Creighton did not fear them, he even believed himself to be more than capable enough to kill all of them.

But he also believed that to be pointless; there was no way he could man a vessel of that size all by himself, and even if he kept the others alive, he knew they would refuse to help him, plus, he had no desire to return home. So he turned around to see their destination: a beautiful beach, void of any human life, and further inland was a forest, barely visible from where he was standing.

That was where he wanted to go. So he tossed overboard the two bodies, and started rowing the boat towards the beach, reaching the sandy shore in no less then five minutes. The wooden hull brushed up against the minuscule rocks, signaling to Creighton to jump out of the boat, with his axe in his right hand. He stood there, taking it all in, realizing too that he's actually free.

No one witnessed the crime he just committed, and no one in this country would know who he is; news from his own homeland barely reaches out to others, like who is arrested for what as an example. Creighton started to jitter with excitement, with one goal in mind: to find that partner-in-crime who betrayed him.

That's why he chose to be executed here; his partner fled to here, and now with his captors dead, Creighton had all the time to find him. It would take awhile to do so though, that he knew, but Creighton believed he'll find his former partner eventually. And he'll have to be cautious, especially in the forest which he intends to enter, with it being renowned for its monstrous inhabitants.

He didn't hesitate to enter however.

Beneath his feet were the sounds of crunching shells being replaced with crunching twigs and leafs. For the longest time, Creighton could not even recall how that sounded, let alone birds chirping, which was what he was hearing also. He also couldn't remember the last time he saw a healthy tree with emerald-green, left unscarred by conflict. In actuality, there was a lot about this forest which he had forgotten what looked or sounded like, and he doubted he would remember what they were like in the first place.

But now, he had the desire for vengeance to thank, for without that, he would not be reminded of these characteristics of a healthy country. But he could have lived without being reminded though.

After walking for what Creighton felt like to be an hour, a growl stopped him dead in his tracks. Which broke out into a howl, prompting the outlaw to turn on a dime, looking behind him to see one of the many inhabitants of the forest: a werewolf-like creature, with pitch black fur, many bone shards protruding out of its body, and a red-marked, bone mask covering its face, revealing only it glowing-red eyes.

A Grimm.

Creighton grew furious at what this meant, and charged the howling beast at break-neck speed, roaring in response and nearly bifurcated the beast, splitting its head and upper chest apart. Steaming blood shot out like a miniature geyser, staining his armor and unfortunately, doing the same to his eyes, which were midway through recovering from the saltwater.

He winced, but endured the pain, not even bothering to rub his eyes, but that was due to his steel mask making it difficult to rub his eyes in the first place. Creighton just opened his eyes, which were starting to shed weak tears, then turned and ran.

He prowled through bushes, small and large, jumped over logs, sidestepped trees, he was trying his damnest to run from the new sound of a dozen more Beowolves howling, answering the howl of the single one that died by Creighton's hands, motivating him to only run even faster. But after having walked for quite a length without stopping for a rest, Creighton already found his body tempting him to stop. The motivation for self-preservation though out-weighed the idea of resting.

The outlaw knight stopped dead in his tracks however, being knocked to the ground by ramming into an armored individual, knocking that one down as well. When he looked at what it was, Creighton cursed out loud, grabbed his axe, and swung, not even bothering to get back on his feet. The axeblade struck the neck of a lion clan warrior, effectively decapitating the fallen animal-humanoid.

What followed was silence when Creighton realized he had just killed a gold-maned Lion warrior, which are revered as elders by the species. This prompted Creighton to yell, "FUCK!" when he looked up at the rest of the lion clan warrior encampment, who just watched one of their elders being slain, all the while more grimm joined in the chorus of beowolves howling.

The lion clan warriors roared as well, but not in response to another calling for their presence, rather at Creighton for killing one of their own. The feeling of wanting to live told Creighton to get back up on his feet and run, specifically to his right, since the orchestra of roaring grimm was coming from behind him, aggravated lion clan warriors stood in front of him, and to his left was a cliff. So the only sensible solution was to run to the right.

Much to his chagrin, Creighton found himself having to avoid the same obstacles like before, except this time he was now running from two threats, with one being dangerously closer to him than the other. He could have sworn his heart was about to explode from exhaustion if he had to keep running at this rate, and the thought of being captured by either of exerted more stress upon the outlaw-knight. Which is responsible for Creighton finding out he could run faster than he could ever imagine, especially when he was wearing a full suit of armor.

That was not enough though; the Lion clan warriors were still tailing him, keeping up with the speeding warrior. And unfortunately, Creighton found himself having to stop, for he now found himself nearing another cliffside of a grassy field. He turned with haste, seeing that the full mass of Lion warriors that were chasing, blocking him off from fleeing to his left or right, all snarling with glee from the thought of avenging their fallen elder.

Rarely in his life, would Creighton believe he was going to die.

Then the Grimm who chased him emerged from the forest's darkness, and attacked the Lion clan warriors, taking them by surprise. And Creighton smiled, with all his dread dying in front of his eyes, as the Lion clan in front of him quarreled with the Grimm, all spilling their blood, all taking their lives, all having forgotten whom they originally wanted to die.

Save for one.

A Lion clan warrior had tackled Creighton.

Both had found themselves free-falling.

And both of them felt like their bodies had finally broke when they made contact with a dirt surface.

Creighton cried and swore at fate, while the Lion warrior yowled at the same person, all the while the feud that was taking up over the cliffside was still taking place, ignoring the two missing combatants. They lied there, panting, with their suffering seeming to have no end in sight. That is why one of them decided to fight through the pain, grabbed his axe, and approached Creighton, who could only watch in fury.

The sight of the Lion warrior was enough to motivate the criminal to get up, but only at his knees, that was when the Lion warrior held an edge of his double-bladed axe up to the man's neck. Creighton shot his head up to meet the humanoid's red eyes with his gray-blue ones; the Lion's silver mane stood still, a sign of there being no wind to whistle, only leaving the sound of Lion clan warriors and Grimm ending each other to be.

The he spoke, "You... you are not worth it." The Lion lowered his axe, turning heel, grabbing his large rectangular wooden shield, and walked away, crunching forest debris beneath his two paws.

And it infuriated Creighton.

"Get the fuck back here!" He struggled to his feet. "DON'T YOU CALL ME WORTHLESS!" The criminal grabbed his own axe. "FUCKING COME BACK OVER HERE AND KILL ME!" But the Lion warrior was already gone, leaving behind a Creighton going through unexpected emotional turmoil, as the fighting between the Lions and Grimm had finally died out.

He felt exactly the same like at that very moment where he was betrayed.

Expendable, trash, as if he holds no power, as if he has no worth. Like he has no reason to live.

He cursed one last time, yelling at the top of his lungs, cursing the Lion clan species. Then he turned, fuming, sulking, wanting to kill the next thing he sees, proceeding with his journey to killing his old partner. He looked back one last time at the trail which the silver-maned Lion warrior tread upon before storming off in the opposite direction.

All he found was another opening to a clearing, with who he believed to be eight teenagers, or young adults, all armed to the teeth, just like his captors, staring the direction of which he traveled from...

(AN: This is going to include a lengthy description of characters from RWBY, so if you're familiar with the anime, then you don't have to really read the whole entirety of the next 8 paragraphs. I'm just describing these character's appearances for those who aren't familiar with RWBY. I'll also be explaining Creighton's appearance as well, so there'll be no need to read that if you can remember him from the Dark Soul's series.)

"Uh, should we see what's going on?" Asked Ruby Rose, a young teenage girl with large grey eyes, black, short hair with reddish-tips, staring off at a cliffside with what sounded to be a monstrous feud taking place. She was wearing a red cloak, a black blouse, a black cincher with red lacing and trimming, a black combat skirt, a belt around her waist which had cartridges attached to it, black tights, and black boots. In her hands was an unbelievably large, red-framed scythe, with a silver-like blade.

"No, not really. It sounds like the grimm are just fighting with each other. Possibly with the Lion clan warriors." Another girl answer, Weiss Schnee, sounding a bit annoyed. Her eyes were light-blue, and her lengthy, snow-white hair was tied up in an off-center ponytail. Her attire consisted of thin earrings, an apple-shaped necklace, a white bolero jacket, red inside, with a snowflake marked on the back, a white dress with a combat skirt as well, and white, heel wedged boots, going halfway-up her calfs, lined with red. Her weapon was more sensible in size, being a silver-grey rapier, with a cylinder-like chamber separating the blade and hilt.

"L-Lion clan warriors? They're here?!" Another question came to be, being asked by a timid, blue-eyed, blond boy, Jaune Arc. He wore a white chesplate and shoulder armor, a black hoodie with red-orange sleeves underneath, brown wrist-length gloves, elbow guards, blue pants with a white patch on the left knee, and sneakers. In his left hand was a white heater shield, and in his right was a sword with a blue handle and golden cross-guard.

"They're indigenous to this part of Vale, Jaune. But you shouldn't worry about them, they tend to live in mountainous terrain." Pyrrha Nikos replied, walking up to the boy's side. Her eyes were vividly-green, and her hair was red, almost similar to the shade of blood, with a bronze headpiece, and tied into a waist-length ponytail. Her outfit was a strapless top of armor made of leather split divided vertically, with a bronze v-neck underneath, brown opera-length gloves, a black elastic A-line miniskirt with a red drapery wrapped around it that reached her ankles. On her waist was a belt with a circular bronze plate with a shield and spear symbol on the right and two pouches on the left. Nikos' footwear consisted of bronze greaves starting below her mid-thigh, continuing down into her high-heeled boots, and a pair of cuisses.

In her right hand was what resembled a spear colored gold and red, and in her left was a round golden shield with sections missing on either side, with its sides looking sharp enough to decapitate a head.

"Aw, we could have been fight Lion warriors this whole time? They're so cuuute!" A childish, turquoise-eyed girl, with short, orange hair stated; her name is Nora Valkyrie. She wore a black collared vest ending near her waist, under which were two more layers of clothing: one red and beneath that was blue. There was also a white sleeveless top that formed a tiny heat shape between her breasts and collarbone, armor that began in the middle of her shoulders and neck, ending by her waist. There was a detached sleeve on each arm, pink fingerless gloves on each hand, a pink skirt that ended at mid-thigh, and shoes with a mix of pink and white laces.

Over her shoulders was a large silver war hammer with pink cylindrical-chambers withing the hammer. She was able to hold with a single hand, her left, despite it nearly matching her height.

And to her left was a stoic boy, Lie Ren had who kept to himself, with shiny, black hair tied into a ponytail ending midway at his back, with a hot-pink streak on the left side of his hair; his eyes were pink as well, but light instead of bright. The teenager was wearing a dark green tailcoat that was diagonally-buttoned, and long sleeved with pink cuffs and gold trimming, which went down the right side of his torso and formed a black collar around his neck. His bottoms included white pants and black shoes.

"Get the fuck back here!" The sudden, ruthless voice took the eight young adults by surprise, having expected there to only be the blasting cries of Lion clan warriors and Grimm killing each other, with humans not being included.

"Someone's pissed." Yang Xiao Long stated, a girl with light purple eyes, and long, unruly, blond hair, wearing an orange scarf, a tan vest, with puffy cap-sleeves, black cuffs, gold-piping over a yellow low crop-top, black-fingerless gloves, a brown belt with a pouch marked by a golden burning-heart, black shorts with a back skirt, and knee-high leather platform boots; around her wrists were two golden plated gauntlets that also act as shotguns, being capable of firing red explosive shells.

"DON'T YOU CALL ME WORTHLESS!"

"Whoever he is, I wish he'd stop. His shouting is going to attract more Grimm." An slight olive-toned girl with amber eyes, blue eye shadow flaring upwards, and lengthy, wavy, black hair, added; he name is Blake Belladonna. The girl's attire consisted of a black ribbon tied into a bow sitting on top of her cranium. Blake had on a collar-like scarf around her neck black buttoned vest with coattails, a white sleeveless undershirt that was short enough to reveal her midriff one arm was covered by a long black armband, white shorts that were a bit longer than Yang's, black low-heel boots and stockings, and a metal plate on her back, acting as a holster for he weapon, which was currently in her hands. It holster itself resembled a large cleaver, within it was a black, double-edged katana.

"FUCKING COME BACK OVER HERE AND KILL ME!" It was then that the noise of two species who hated humanity faded in volume, disappearing completely, while the man who was shouting had now moved on to ridiculing the Lion clan species at an overwhelming volume. The fact that a man could yell with such force was to a certain degree, amazing, but also unappreciated by the eight future huntsmen, now fearing that this man's shouting was most certainly going to attract unwanted attention, just as Blake had mentioned.

The man eventually went silent, with nothing following suit; there was absolutely no sound at all. No animals, no Grimm, no Lions, nothing dared to make a sound in the end. It was haunting to listen to nothing in a forest, especially when knowing that it was all cause of some man yelling at the top of his lungs, deep inside the wilderness' interior.

It wasn't until Jaune stated, "I think we should go now," that an armored figure entered into the clearing from a trail, leading to direction where the man had been blasting his vocal cords from. He stopped when he saw the eight, armed individuals, all staring right at him.

He was wearing an iron chainmail, chain gloves, and chain leggings, with a gray, sleeveless, tattered tunic marked with a white stag's head on the front, and two brown belts. No one could tell what he looked like, for his whole head and face was concealed by a metallic helmet with a mask to cover his mouth and nose, leaving only his eyes to be visible from the outside. There was a multitude of scratches on the front, some obviously being from a blade, while others appeared to have been made by the claws of an unknown animal; ten holes also marked the metal mask, having been made to make the act of breathing easier.

His weapon was just as rustic as his attire, appearing to be an old, simple waraxe, about two feet long, being made entirely of a blackish-metal, with brown wrappings around the shaft.

The sight of the axe inspired Ruby to stare on with shock and awe, and she whispered, "T-that's the axe of General Lothian."

"... Does that mean he's Lothian?" Jaune inquired, not bothering to look away from the man, who still gazed upon the group.

"No, he's not him. Lothian was a general of Forossa, that axe is most likely and= imitation; this man is clearly a criminal from Mirrah." Weiss' reply was not anyone expected to hear, albeit finding out that one of most legendary general's in all of Remnant was here in Emerald forest would be just as unbelievable.

"What makes you think he's a criminal?"

"His mask is a symbol in Mirrah for criminals who are sentenced to death," Blake was the one to answer Yang, "specifically for mass murderers, dark servants, and undead who are about to turn hollow." The air chilled around everyone; here was a man, a supposed criminal from Mirrah, who had been sentenced to death for either being three of the previously mentioned labels, each being viewed as worse than the Grimm, with being a dark servant or hollow being consider more dangerous.

"How is he here then if he was sentenced to death?" Yang asked bitterly, visibly readying to fight this man.

"He escaped, obviously.-"

"-He's walking towards us." Jaune was quick to bring up this fact, to which everyone else mildly tensed in response. The criminal from Mirrah was indeed walking towards the group; the closer he got, the easier everyone could distinguish the dead, unfazed stare of his cobalt eyes, and the thick strands of graying hair coming out of the sides of his mask.

The criminal stopped when he deemed the distance between him and them perfect for attacking and running away; he could also clearly see all of the preparing for being attacked as well, and he chuckled, loud enough to be heard.

"Now why are you kids looking so scared for? I'm just an old man taking a stroll, that's all."

"While being armed and trespassing on Beacon property? It looks like you're planning something more than taking a mere walk." Pyrrha shot back, sounding stern, and scowling just like the rest; he chuckled again.

"Well now, trespassing am I? You really can't blame me, those schools never make it clear when your trotting on their land and when you're not." No one said anything. "Heh, whatever. Any of you happened to come by a man called Mild-Mannered Pate? Ya know, holds a spear and big shield, probably in his mid-thirties; I happen to be looking for him."

"To kill?" The question immediately pissed the man off, being visible when he shot a dark, dirty look at Weiss, along with his hand tensing up around his axe.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't act like a dunce, you're a criminal from Mirrah. We can all tell that from your mask." A low growl emitted from the man's throat, actually, but not severely, unnerving everyone he stood before.

"Now you're right, Frosty, this mask is-"

"-What did you just call m-"

"-Quiet!" The shout was effective in hushing the now agitated rapier-wielder, and Weiss didn't bother to hide her contempt from the man. "Now, yes, I was arrested, but because I was framed, for a foul crime committed by... Pate; he made me look like a damn monster. The guy framed me for being a serial killer, when really it was him."

Again, not a single one of the future-huntsmen bothered to say anything, all choosing to still hold their weapons out, ready to strike. It all agitated him, but also amuse him as well.

"I escaped though, and I plan on finding him. So I'll ask you all again: have any of you heard of Mild-Mannered Pate?"

"..."

"..."

"... Are you going to kill him?" Under his mask, he smiled, focusing his attention on the petite girl holding the giant red scythe. He appreciated her tone, unlike Weiss'.

"Yes."

"You just admitted to the planning of killing a man."

"A monster. A greedy, deceiving, manipulative, monster." He graveled out at Blake, feeling his anger coming back. "Is that so bad? To kill a monster?"

"Wouldn't it be better to turn him in? That way, you'll be cleared of being framed while he's punished for what he did." Yang's question rendered the man silent for a few seconds, after which he shook his head.

"No no no, I can't. If I comeback to Mirrah, I'll be killed by my order for sullying their name, even if I prove that I'm innoce-" He stopped to sounding of rushing footsteps coming from behind, prompting him to swing his axe back to preemptively strike.

But unlike with his captors, Creighton was not expecting a black, large mace, beating him in reach and slamming the right side of his head. The force was fierce enough to send him soaring, only to stop by face planting into one of the many oak trees that surrounded the clearing, breaking it in half, and slamming into another tee behind that one, where he fell for about five feet.

And all Creighton could do was express his discomfort by giving an airy grunt, not even bothering to get up and instead deciding to comply with his body's wishes to just lie there, all the while he could here one of the kids shouting at his attacker: "Why would you do that?!"

His answer was, "That guy was a criminal from Mirrah! Couldn't you tell by his mask?!"

"Ohhhh- fuck me." Creighton rolled over to see if he could get a good look at who struck him down.

Unfortunately, a boy with minty green mohawk blocked his line of view, and kicked his head, acting as the blow that would knock Creighton out. The last sound that came to his ears was the flapping of gargantuan wings...