Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of The Rings, the Middle-Earth universe, Shadow of Mordor or RWBY.

This work will contain moments of intense violence, dark and dirty humor, and canonical divergences.


The Concern

"So, these beasts..." Hork spoke slowly as he stared at the cage before him.

He stood with a captain and a group of underlings around a large cage which had been dragged to the edge of a sandstone cliff, inside were one of those...

"Grimm? Correct?" Hork turned to look down at a particularly garish faced Uruk in a dirty apron.

This particular Uruk seemed to be restraining himself, wiping away a small trail of drool from his gruesome lips which had accumulated as he stared at the creature. He then spoke in a nasally voice with surprisingly fluid speech for one as grotesque as he "Y-yes, the tarks of this realm consider these fine...fine specimens as the creatures of Grimm."

"Tarz, how many Uruks did it take to subdue this beast?" Hork asked, ignoring the way the Apron-cladded Uruk began hungrily running a gloved-hand along the serrated blade at his belt.

The Foul-faced Uruk glanced up at the Warchief and his putrid lips stretched into a stomach-churning grin "Only a single whelp sir, scouting party tossed him at the beast and let it maul him while they got the drop on it."

Hork thoughtfully hummed a bit in response as he watched several Uruks throw taunts and jeers at the beast from the sides, it occasionally tried reaching through the bars towards them before shifting around and trying another way to break free.

"So, would these be safe to consume?" Hork asked. Tarz did have the title of Surgeon, what with his skills in the field of health being far above that of the regular Uruk. But considering how much the average Uruk knew about medical practices well... it was no real wonder why Tarz's favorite method of treatment was amputation. Still, if there were any Uruk who would be able to figure out whether these alien creatures were edible-

"Good question," Tarz nodded before raising a finger "lets figure this out through some proper experimentation!"

The Warchief only raised an eyebrow as the Surgeon pulled his serrated, slightly curved sword from his belt and stepped towards the cage. The Beowolf inside was reaching through the bars of its cage towards a particular group of Uruks who had tried thinking up new derogatory terms for the creature and its kin, when a gloved hand wrapped around its wrist and chopped it off. Tarz backed away from the cage as the Beowolf reared back for a moment and released a blood curdling cry of rage, then proceeded to slash at the cage wall in order to reach the smirking Uruk even as he turned away from the cage and raised the claw above his head.

"Who among you worthless peons has the stomach to take the first bite?!" he questioned the crowd, and despite the more cautious Uruks immediately giving each other glances it was inevitable that a chorus of cheers would arise from the rest. Uruks pushed and shoved forward until one snatched the claw from Tarz and immediately sank his teeth into it. There were groans and roars of annoyance which only lasted until the Uruk started coughing.

The crowd went semi-silent as they watched the Uruk cough up some kind of black smoke, he crouched on the ground grabbing at his throat and spewing a few tangible curses through the coughing fit. He tossed the claw away as he rubbed at his throat, the discarded limb soon began dissolving away as well. The black smoke evaporated untril it was no longer visible, leaving the Uruk to begin rubbing at his tongue with his leathery hands.

Tarz turned back to the Warchief, whose expression had soured intensely "Well, I figure that answers your question quite thoroughly now doesn't it?"

"Gah! Beast make mouth bad!" the Taste-tester shouted as soon as he'd cleared enough of his throat, he turned to the cage and pulled his sword from its sheathe "Open cage, I'm gonna kill beast until it dead!"

Excited at the prospect of a grunt taking on a wounded but still very furious monster, many heads turned towards Hork. The massive Uruk rolled his eyes disdainfully and nodded his assent, almost immediately the crowd cheered and began forming a circle around the taste-tester and the cage.

As the fight began, Tarz worked his way back to the Warchief "Hork, I believe we should keep capturing these creatures, if you find no issue with my suggestion."

"Oh? Do you think that perhaps others will not completely dissipate once taken apart?" the Warchief asked as he watched the besmirched lesser Uruk charge the crippled beast

"That is a viable theory we must check, we can not assume that the other variations will be the same no matter what the slaves say. If they were withholding information on just one of them, we could be missing out on quite the source of sustenance."

"And we can't just keep eating Tarks, we need the labor." Hork responded as he watched the Beowolf manage to fling the Uruk to the side

"Correct, if all else fails it should provide good sport for the Captains in between battles."

The Warchief nodded "It should be enough to satisfy the Beast Masters at the least. Very well, but there needs to be a reduced risk of deaths. None of us here have the resources necessary to recreate the spawn-pits, so reinforcing numbers will be next to impossible here. Hm, so what of the tower?"

Tarz raised a finger as his stomach-churning lips stretched into a smile "Ah, yes. Now those funny-eared humans have mentioned that-"

"Master!"

Hork and Tarz paused to see the incoming figure of Dharg rushing towards them from the Castle in the distance. Soon he skidded to a stop before the Warchief and the Surgeon before catching his breath and growling.

"Master, a group of hunters has returned from the east." the Hell-Hawk helmeted bodyguard said

"Ah, have they located Ashgarn?" Hork asked

"Well... yes Master, in Bubol's company as expected, but there's a bigger issue." Dharg stood tall "It seems several of those Unallied Captains may have outed us."

"What?"

"Several of them attacked a Tark quarry, a big one apparently."

Hork's eyes widened for a moment before his mouth stretched into a snarl "They did...what?!"


They watched with horrified eyes as one of their captors stepped towards them, its spear placed in the same hand which wielded its shield. It stood before them for a moment, forcing many to wonder who it was aiming to attack. However, those expectations were dashed in the face of an even more queer response. The Orcish-looking creature instead placed a hand to his chest...

And sung.

"We have defeated you~! Your blood and bones have been spilled~! Now slavery be your only fate~! Lest you all be killed~!"

"Zog!" came a rough voice which interrupted the Singer before he could bellow another verse "Enough rhymes, get over here and help us sort through this loot."

The large Uruk glanced down at the captured White Fang members for a moment before answering the call, in the center of the recently ravaged camp was a pile of items which another Shield-barer sorted through. The camp was situated in the middle of some dense woodlands, a small scouting post made up of no more than a number of small tents behind one larger tent. There was a small, minimalist structure built into one of the larger trees right underneath its major branches in order to keep from being easily identifiable. Two lookouts were to keep watch on the perimeter with their heightened sight, but in the case that they were incapacitated before they could warn the rest, a third lookout situated on the ground was to alert those sleeping.

It was something the attackers hadn't anticipated, they'd somehow managed to take down the two higher lookouts only for the third one to rat them out before they could start preying on the unconscious Faunus. Despite being able to respond properly they were still overwhelmed by the attackers, and those taken prisoner had been restrained and set off to the side while the attackers looted their small camp. One of these captives tried to pull his arms over his head so he could have at them with his fangs, they hadn't been subdued with metallic restraints so only a few minutes of gnawing would do. He didn't know exactly how he'd be able to do so with the two larger guards that had been left to watch them, any suspicious movement was responded to with the edge of a shield to the face, any annoying words were met with the edge of a shield to the face, and any annoying sounds in general were met with the edge of a shield to the face.

As he watched one of the guards, Zog apparently, go answer the call of his leader, he spotted something else peeking at them from behind one of the tents. Another White Fang soldier, one with the exact same antler horns on her head that he had. His eyes went wide before he jerked his head to the woods behind them, indicating for her to run while one of the guards was busy. She instead shifted her gaze to his restrained arms and made a sawing motion with her hands, he instantly shook his head at her intentions. His sister had kept a knife under her pillow as more of a comforting token, it was pretty small and was most definitely ineffective in a battle against the Grimm let alone these shield and spear wielding monsters.

He shook his head at her, trying to get her to run instead, but she just gave him a hard look before disappearing behind the tent as the Guard left behind stomped over.

"Feeling the jitters eh?" the creature muttered "Ah don't worry, you look like you'd make a strong slave. Lot of meat on your bones, make a good meal too. But ya won't need a pretty face for either so..."

The Guard chuckled a bit before taking a step back and slamming his boot into the Faunus face.

The sister snuck past the tents, careful not to alert the large, shield wielding monsters who wandered about digging through things for loot. There weren't too many, but they'd still be able to easily tear her apart if they all ganged up on her at once. So she moved with as much precision as she could, despite the exhaustion she had felt. She had been one of the lookouts, positioned higher up in the tree above the structure. She had been struck with a sudden sense of exhaustion and had fallen from her perch onto the roof of the tree structure. It was that sound which alerted her fellow Faunus, but when she had come to most of the battle was over and the looting had already begun. The first thing she had thought of after waking was that someone had used a semblance on her, but that was ridiculous. She had been taught that monsters couldn't use things like semblances or Aura because they lacked a soul. And these violent, hideous things were most definitely monsters, though unlike any she had ever seen before in her life.

She had written them off as some strange new type of intelligent Grimm, they had to be... right? Either way she pushed the excessive thinking to the side in favor of retrieving her knife and getting her comrades and brother out of harm's way. She would not abandon him to whatever these things planned to do with them. Whatever it was, odds of it being enjoyable were so far in the ground it could be halfway through the mantle by now. The tent she and her brother slept in was on the other side of the camp, and since the center of the camp was where the most of the attackers were she opted to skirt around the edge until she stalled at the sight of two of them eyeing the lookout structure in the tree above. She quickly peaked past the nearest tent to see that the junction between it and the next was graciously empty. The only immediate threat being the crouched form of one of the monsters looking through a pile of weapons and such which had been assembled outside the largest tent.

The Deer-Faunus smothered her anxiety and moved forward, keeping her eyes glued to the back of the crouched attacker as she moved to the next tent, pausing only when she saw Zog stand next to him.

"Captain Kothug," Zog said in his bellowing voice as he approached the crouched form of his captain "what exactly do you require?"

"Help me figure out which of these blades would look nice on my spear." Kothug said as he lifted another White Fang sword and eyed it up and down.

"For...your spear?"

"Yeah, I wanna nice, new-lookin' spear to show off to the boys." the captain arose and gestured to the sharp edge of his weapon "Thought all this metal would be quite useful to the Bladesmith."

"What about the blasters?" Zog gestured towards one of the guns in the piles "Don't know how safe it'd be if Ratlug tried melting them down."

"No worries, Bubol said he'd take 'em off our hands." Kothug stated calmly

The sister made her way past the junction to the next tent, where she could pick up on pieces of the conversation between the two Shielded creatures looking up at the lookout tree.

"So, dat ding duh Captain did." one of them began in a confused tone "How dat work again?"

"Seriously?" another one asked in a bored tone "Didn't he explain that like a week ago?"

"Well uh, me forget." the confused one began "Not my fault explanation stupid!"

"Then what makes you think you won't immediately forget this either, you stupid glob?" the bored voice responded with a sigh

The sister moved along, now skirting the back of the large tent she could see the flaps of her tent. As she snuck closer to it, she once again heard the Captain and Zog's conversation.

"-yeah after that Bubol's gonna send the clothes and extra stuff over to Pug as well." Kothug spoke

"Wait, what?" the Singer questioned, the audible sound of him scratching at his scalp reached her "Why would Pugrish need their clothing?"

Just as Kothug began answering, a third voice piped in with "Doesn't really matter, he'd look adorable in whatever he'd wear!"

It sounded sickly, as if it was trying to speak through a throat clogged by mucus, yet it was still as enthusiastic as a child at a birthday party. As the voice had spoken, the sound of Zog's startled yelp was followed by something heavily falling to the ground preceding the sound of scrambling limbs.

"Oi, we was just talkin' about ya." Kothug said as he stood and gestured to the pile "Come down 'ere and check out the haul!"

Bubol's sick laughter rang out as the Faunus made her way to the edge of her tent, she turned to glance in the direction of that giddy voice but could only see the back of Kothug staring at something out of her view "Aw, you brought a present for me Kothug! How gracious of you! However, it saddens me to say there will be no trade today."

Kothug paused and stood at full height before folding his arms "And why is that?"

"Well I'm gonna be too busy of course!" an average sized figure in the shrubbery stepped forward just a bit before clapping his hands together "Got me a fancy date tonight with your beautiful corpse!"

Kothug paused at that, two more of his underlings stepping away from the tents to join him as he growled at the figure.

"But, we got all these weapons just for you and your pals." Kothug began as he gestured towards the loot at his feet "Ain't we been supplyin' a lot actually? What would Pugrish think if-"

"Don't care, my sweet!" Bubol interrupted happily before raising a gnarled claw "Puggy doesn't really care where his toys come from or how much, just that he gets a cut. Remember, he's crazier than I am!"

Kothug growled again before roaring back to the tents, "Uruks, to arms!

The Faunus heard heavy footsteps coming from inside her tent and quickly moved to the side as another large creature charged out from inside before moving towards his leader. She waited a moment in case there were more, before checking inside and slipping in. As expected it had been torn up, several traveling cases were torn open and emptied of all things they considered important, the rest of the contents lying on the ground. She moved to her sleeping bag, only to find her pillow torn and half and the knife gone. She didn't have long to stew over her misfortune as she heard Kothug's angry speech from outside.

"Zog, you and Rat-Head move the prisoners out of the way, I don't want this traitorous shrakh killin' our winnins!"

It was followed by a gruff sound which the Faunus could only hazard to guess was one of compliance before a heavy set of footsteps traveled away. The deer-Faunus considered the pros and cons of her brother and the other captives being moved away rom what seemed like an incoming brawl, when a glint of metal caught her eye. Her knife had been tossed insultingly on a torn open travel pack. Perhaps it was too small to be included with the rest of the weapons they'd taken, if the tips of their spears or the swords at their belts were any indication these Uruk monsters liked big blades. And while they were right at its lack of use for direct combat, it was still perfectly capable of cutting through things like the bindings which restrained her brother and the others.

But as she pocketed the knife, she heard the roars of the creatures confronting this Bubol thing start to get louder "You're gonna regret showin' me how to tap into that witchcraft, you runt!" Kothug yelled as the sound of mechanical happenings became apparent under the yelling of the shield-barers.

"Oh my, so many at once!" Bubol's filthy voice devolved into more cackling "Don't worry my pets, daddy's gonna show each and every one you a little lovin', so's you don't feel lonely~!"

As he said that the sound of something mechanical shifting a bit reached the Sister's ears as she slipped out of her tent. This was good, if she could locate the others while they were fighting she might be able to sneak this to her brother. She could use herself as a distraction and get the Singer guy and whoever Rat-Head was away from the prisoners while her brother freed them. She thought more on that plan as she moved behind the large tent, when the sounds of explosions started.

Streaks of flame flew over the large tent, topped with a flaming Uruk landing right in front of her and immediately writhing madly as his flesh burned. He was blocking her path, and the sounds of roaring Uruks and screaming projectiles was getting close. She changed direction and ran to the edge of the camp again, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the violent confrontation. Thankfully it seemed the two who were watching the lookout perch had joined their captain in fighting that Bubol thing.

Before she could get past it, another explosion launched another Uruk directly into the lookout's perch, destroying him and the perch as well. As chunks of debris fell from the ruined perch, with some planks of wood still dangling from the ruins, the Deer-Faunus jumped back as Kothug himself stumbled back against the lookout tree. Something was hanging onto his metal shield, she couldn't get too good of a look at it as Kothug was shaking his shield in order to dislodge it. What she could make out wasn't pretty in the slightest, significantly smaller than Kothug and his cronies, whatever this Bubol thing was had large boils and diseased flesh covering the majority of the right side of its body.

He scrambled to throw an arm over Kothug's shield, and only now Sister realized the limb had some odd metal thing attached to it. Bubol pointed the arm-mounted thing at Kothug, who seemed to realize what he was attempting because he suddenly pushed forward with enough force to throw Bubol off his shield. As the disgusting cretin fell the thing on his arm discharged a bolt-like projectile which missed Kothug completely and instead snapped one of the perch's dangling wooden planks in half. Bubol landed on his feet and immediately raised his arm again as Kothug reoriented himself and another Shielded Uruk charged him from behind.

A hook-like mechanism fired from the wrist mounted contraption before somehow managing to attach itself to the piece of falling wood, as Kothug readied his spear the chord zipped back. Bubol caught the chord with his free hand, twirling it and the piece of wood which ended up sinking into the skull of the Uruk behind him. Kothug dashed forward with his spear, only for the chord to begin pulling again. The now dead Uruk's body was yanked towards Bubol as the hook detached and the sickly monster slid out of the corpse's way. Kothug raised his shield to catch the body, before tossing it to the side into a nearby tent and pursuing the diseased Uruk.

The Sister had been panicking since the battle had started, that dread just grew as it raged on. She needed to free the others before either side won, and the now present threat of the explosive grappler currently fighting their captors only doubled her previous number of concerns. To her great surprise they weren't far from where they were seated previously, deeper into the tree line but still visible from the camp. She could see Zog readjusting their restraints, he kept nervously looking back towards the camp. Wasn't there another one he was supposed to be guarding with? Another explosion convinced her that that would be answered later, so she kept low and moved through the shrubbery.

The captives seemed to be just as worried about the fighting nearby as she was, but her brother's face immediately shifted into a look of anger as he spotted her sneaking towards them. He continued motioning for her to run, which she replied to by throwing her knife to him. It landed next to him, and he seemed to snarl in resignation as he looked down at it. His fingers pulled it towards him, but as he looked back up at her his eyes grew wide. Getting the message, she spun around quickly only for the edge of a spear to slam into her gut and lift her off her feet. She was dragged through the air by the weapon and launched back towards the camp, she skidded along the ground for a moment before slamming into the wall of one of the smaller tents and bringing it down.

Her Aura managed to soak up the brunt of the attack, but she had been part of this scouting team for a reason. Coupled with the fact that she still hadn't fully recovered from that sleep trick they'd used on her before, and it was easy to see why she struggled to suck in the air which had been beaten out of her. As she scrambled onto her hands and knees, she spotted her attacker stepping out of the underbrush. That was probably Rat-Head, who from the ratty hair and sideburns along with the incredibly exaggerated front teeth she could easily say was named correctly.

"Huh, so we missed one of you during clean-up eh?" Rat-Head said with a chuckle "Easy mistake to fix."

He turned back to Zog, who was alternating between staring at them and glancing over to the camp, the Singer jerked nervously as Rat-Head yelled back to him "Oi! You watch them while I deal with this treat 'ere!"

Zog's look of shock mirrored the Sister's, she'd been hoping the willingness to follow his leader's orders would've made the Rat-Like Uruk lean towards letting her go in order to help keep guard. But as he turned back to her she could immediately tell that the idea of killing her was far more appealing to him. Zog seemed to think so to, and as Rat-Head pointed his spear towards she could see her brother slowly working his way through the restraints while Zog was distracted.

What with his nerves already being fried by the overwhelming sense of danger the battle was giving off, the Sister figured the best thing she could do at this point was lead Rat-Head away to make their escape easier. Zog seemed too distracted to do much on his own, so the Deer-Faunus slowly got to her hands and knees as Rat-Head began stomping towards her. She scrambled off the tent she'd flattened, heading deeper into camp with the small realization that the sounds of battle had faded. Now there was little more than the sounds of burning tents. She didn't have too long to wonder about it, as Rat-Head proved himself far faster than a beast with that kind of equipment should be. She was able to outpace him, but just barely, managing to duck into an open tent. She held still, waiting until she heard his heavy footsteps pass by followed by an angry snarl as he tried to spot her.

"Oh come on you stupid Tark, I ain't one for merry chases." Rat-head muttered as he took a look over the tents "Why not just come out 'ere and let me stab ya dead and get it over with?"

As he turned to see if she had somehow wound around the tents behind him, the Sister moved to the other end of the tent where the cloth wall had been cut by the blade of a fallen monster. Crawling over it she made her way out of the tent and paused to listen, hearing Rat-Head's grumbling as he poked at another tent with his spear. Okay, now that he was busy looking for her through the tents all she had to do now was circle around behind him and get back to her brother whose hopefully already released the others. Then they could make a break and hopefully lose their pursuers in the woods. Rat-Head was a tall creature, choices were limited as he'd spot her if she tried rushing back too quickly.

Rat-Head stomped over the corpse of another one of his dead comrades, mind set firmly on pulling that damn filth's skull out and showing it to her. He was having an internal struggle over how exactly he was going to do that seeing as it seemed far too physically impossible for someone even as strong as him to pull off. It was as this was going through his head that he heard it, the sound of a wooden shield being stepped on.

"Gotcha," Rat-Head grinned as he strode through the tents towards the sound "now I'm gonna turn your skull into a cup to drink my grog from you stupid Tark!"

As he strode towards the sound, Sister darted to the rear of the large tent, having successfully distracted him through simple use of a corpse's shield and a path provided by torn tents. She didn't dare move in front of the large tent on the off chance that whoever survived the battle was still there, so she went along the rear. The Deer-Faunus paused however, as there was a massive hole cut through a section of the rear tent. Leaking out of it were ghastly sounds, and there was no convenient tent path set around it unless she risked getting spotted by Rat-Head. So instead she took a small peak inside, seeing the hunched form of Bubol chopping at the corpse of Kothug.

His diseased back was toward her, giving her inclination to sneak across the hole whilst he was distracted with his maiming. She was just about to dart across when a hand wrapped around the back of her head and lifted her off her feet, Her worst fears where confirmed when she heard Rat-head's chuckle. The large shield-barer turned her around to face him, the smug look on his rat-like face making her sick in addition to scared.

"Ha!" he mocked as he raised his spear in his free hand "You gonna bleed long for giving me a hassle, you was gonna bleed anyway but eh... now you'll bleed more!"

With that said he tossed her right onto her back, she scrambled back but was unable to get out of the range of his spear which was jabbed at her gut only to bounce off her wavering aura.

"Stupid witchcraft takin' all the fun outta killing tarks." Rat-head muttered as he approached with another jab "Oh well, allows me to get to hear you scream longer."

She knew that wouldn't be the case, surviving two attacks from that massive spear was one thing, but with her aura so low she was assured it would shatter under a third-

Then the arrow came...

It just came out of the large tent's rear wall, piercing Rat-head's Aura and into his head almost immediately. Both the Uruk and the Faunus just stared at each other for a moment, both too shocked to do anything.

Then it exploded, and the force threw the Sister away before the impact with the ground rendered her unconscious.

...

...

...

...

She struggled to move her head, the dull throbbing in her skull amplified by the high-pitched whistling. Her eyes could open, though they were blurred heavily. The figure moving in front of her had nary a single defining trait, but the horrendous growths covering a portion of his body was enough to confirm it as Bubol. He was whistling with that diseased mouth of his, free hand occasionally stroking something he had clutched under his other arm.

He seemed to be gazing at the ground around him for something, occasionally looking at her before moving on. Finally, he glanced at a nearby tree and stopped whistling.

"Come on out sweetness, I'm not gonna hurt ya." He cooed as he began tapping the thing under his arm, when he got no reply he cackled and spoke again "Already know ya there love. Don't make me have to give ya a good walloping eh?"

He was about to offer another coercion when a large form stepped out from behind the tree, with her eyes clearing up a little she could easily identify the form as Zog.

"Why wouldn't you kill me?" Zog asked, before nodding towards the smoking remains of the camp "You don't seem to have any inability to do so."

"Oh of course I could decorate half of this forest with your tantalizing innards, pally." Bubol mentioned with a casual smile as he began petting the thing under his arm "But I heard that little jig o yours before strolling along in here. I could never take such dulcet tones from the world."

Zog seemed surprised for a while, then leaned forward a bit "Y-you actually liked my song?"

Bubol nodded "Always like a good verse or two in my head when I gut someone." he shrugged "Makes it all the more soothing, 'sides I need ya to deliver a message for me."

Zog glanced at his own weapon and shield "I'm not exactly the fastest Uruk."

"Doesn't matter when it gets there, just that it does." Bubol acknowledged before sticking a thumb back in Sister's direction "Ya do this for me, and ya can even keep her around! Ain't I just the most generous of sorts?!"

The diseased monstrosity descended into giggles, shaking in humor as Zog stared at the wounded Faunus "So... I have to carry her too?"

"Think of it this way mate! You'll never survive the trip back to the West without your boys, so maybe having a ready diversion on hand would be nice yesss?"

"I don't like the idea of what saying no would imply for me~!"Zog sang slowly, with one hand placed to his chest "If you wish for me to play courier then so shall it be~!"

The smaller creature let out a small cheer of delight before sauntering forward and standing on his tiptoes to whisper in Zog's ear.

The Singer nodded in response to the words, before stepping back and nodding to the diseased monster and approaching the wounded Faunus "Sure, I'll go grab it and bring it to him. But why couldn't you do it?" he asked back to Bubol "You're much quicker than me, not that I mind being allowed to live and all."

Bubol shrugged again "Too busy, gonna be all types of busy for the next couple o days." He shook the thing under his arm "I mean today alone I'm gonna have to show this beauty some tender love and care, afterwards I gotta go get Ashy to go hunt down those tarks ya let run off. I'm sure you'll be fine, stop worrying."

They ran off? They actually made it away? Despite the throbbing pain she felt on large portion of her body the Faunus gave a small smile as she prayed they could escape whatever beast this Psycho sends after them. As she thought that she felt herself being hoisted up and slung across Zog's shoulder, the singer turning back to the Archer and muttering "If you say so."

Zog turned and began walking away, and as Sister glanced up at the disgusting creature's retreating form she saw a face frozen in shock staring back at her. Before she passed out once again, the last thing she saw was the terrified, severed head of Captain Kothug under Bubol's arm.


"Ozpin, you have no idea how much of a disadvantage we are in a situation such as this."

"James please, I'm more than aware of the precarious nature of our position."

Winter stood at attention behind the subdued yet struggling form of Kruk, dressed up in a plain jumpsuit often used for prisoners. Before them was a screen portraying the office of Headmaster Ozpin, who was sharing the space with a very irate looking General Ironwood.

"How are the people supposed to react to a whole army of unknown origin reeking havoc on unsuspecting travelers?!" Ironwood questioned before attempting to regain his temper

"I know General, believe me I do." Ozpin assured him before turning towards the screen and saying "But surely there are some of you willing to broker some form of agreement perhaps? Something to lessen this obvious aggression you show for our people."

"You no fool me tark!" Kruk barked "As soon as me done bashing in white lady skull, me round up boys, roast many tarks you hear me? MANY!"

"This is ridiculous," Ironwood gave a small groan "not one of them shows anything other aggression?"

"Interrogations with the others captured at the Quarry have yielded similar results, sir. And from personal experience I can only assume shows of force will encourage more of this behavior." Winter confirmed with a strict nod.

"Ozpin, every single one of these things is out for our blood seemingly without reason." Ironwood said through clenched teeth, his face revealing the concern which threatened to overtake his anger "If what this thing says is true then there are small armies of these things all over the wilderness around both Vale and Vacuo, we can keep her involvement in the recent Grimm attack under wraps but somebody's going to notice a whole new race of hostile creatures soon."

"I know General," Ozpin interrupted with a sigh before placing a hand to his chin and walking over to his desk "but now we know where at least one of their main bases of operation is."

"Oz, you know as well as I do that there are dozens of old strongholds left over from the great war." the General said as he clenched his fists lightly at his sides "Vacuo was a warzone back then and the landscape's only gotten worst over time, we'd never be able to search it all before their existence is made public."

"Place sandy, what more tark want?" Kruk shouted before narrowing his eyes

"This Warchief, as you call him, what exactly are his goals?" Ozpin asked as he gestured to the enraged captain.

"Don't know, left before he woke." the Uruk grumbled "No like his voice, followed other Chiefless."

"These were an assembly of deserters," Ironwood pointed out "and they took hold of an entire SDC quarry for nearly a week. We got lucky with that, if the SDC wasn't so generous in helping us cover it up we'd be facing panic a single Grimm attack could only dream of stirring up. If those Warchiefs actually mobilize their forces in a coordinated manner..."

"Hm," Ozpin contemplated this for a moment before turning back to the subdued Uruk "Who orchestrated the attack?"

"Archer," Kruk pointed out plainly, prompting Winter to scoff.

"That's the only manner in which he describes him," the Schnee said as she folded her arms "others captured have given us the name Bubol the Diseased."

The two Headmasters gave each other looks before Ironwood pressed "Diseased? Why?"

"Apparently the monster in question is actually afflicted with some type of disease. According to the Uruks he was the one who showed them how to use red dust with their crossbows, kept SDC security and Atlesian response at bay for the majority of the occupation."

"He learned how to use Dust?" Ozpin asked eyes narrowing at the implications

"Hah! If got somethin' to do wit crossbow, he learn quick!" Kruk jeered from his position before jerking around in his restraints once more

"Perhaps he doesn't know of its other uses besides application to weaponry?" Ironwood suggested

"We can only hope." Ozpin spoke

"Sir, if I may?" Winter spoke up, eventually receiving a nod from her superior "The Uruks label Bubol as a nearly unmatched Archer, leading me to suspect he may have been the one harassing me during my confrontation with Captain Kruk."

"But in your report you mentioned the arrows came from various sources." Ironwood pointed out

"Yes sir, but with the identical attack pattern I can't help but bring up the possibility of some type of semblance he-"

"Probably pully thing." interrupted Kruk who was busy trying to unsuccessfully chew through his restraints

Winter and the two Headmasters looked at the restrained Captain before Ozpin asked the question on their mind "Pully thing?"

"Yeah, coward got pully thing on crossbow." the Uruk grumbled as he found his teeth having no effect on his bindings "Got it from brown lady."

"Brown lad-" Ozpin's eyes widened a bit before stepping closer to the screen "You're saying this Uruk acquired a Bow, with a pulling mechanism, from a brown-themed female recently?"

"You don't think..." Ironwood slowly looked up as he realized where this was going

"I don't want to be right on this general. But if its true, then we need to know."

Kruk's frown deepened before glancing to the side "Yeah, got stupid Pinkskin toy before raid, no deserve it!"

"Before the raid..." Ozpin sighed before glancing at his fellow Headmaster "The possibility of it being Russet's weapon is too great to ignore."

"He managed to kill a Huntress like her?" Ironwood's concern was far more pronounced now

"Wha-? No! No no!" the Flame Captain barked in an insulted manner before Ironwood and Ozpin could go on "He no kill tark! He cheat! He get help!"

Ozpin blinked for a moment before asking "What do you mean he had help?"

"He try use own Uruks! She beat them!" Kruk growled a bit "He get Pugrish to kill her! No fight honorably!"

"Didn't seem to care much for honor when he was helping you." Winter muttered

"Pugrish? Is he another Captain like you?"

The Uruk nodded grumpily "No fair use Pugrish, too good at killing! Lucky Pug left for new hunt, no more help Bubol 'till finished."

"Care to elaborate on what exactly a new hunt means?"

"Hunter Pinkskins," Kruk's mouth stretched into a grin at that "Pug left for Hunters. Go where they are and kill, left after help with brown lady."

Ironwood and Ozpin stared at the screen for a while, before Ozpin stepped forward "Huntsmen? He's actively hunting huntsmen?"

As Ozpin watched Kruk give a thick chuckle, the sudden chime of the General's scroll drew his attention "I thought you silenced that?"

"I did." Ironwood insisted as he took out the device and opened it "Must be one of the emergency lines I-"

The General paused as he read over the alert, eyes narrowing as he reread it, giving his fellow Headmaster cause for concern.

"General?" Ozpin inquired

Ironwood turned to look at Ozpin, glanced down at his scroll once more before angrily stating "I've just lost all contact with one of my excavation teams."


Zaffre charged through the cold tunnel, vaulting over another crate and eventually coming across a catwalk. Below the catwalk was a metallic floor several yards down covered in overturned tables and broken chairs along with several bodies of the excavation team he was here to oversee, with the rest of the upheld platform leading to another part of the cave. Zaffre swallowed nervously and started running when the entirety of the catwalk's rear gave out, he turned back to see both of the thick wires holding it up had been cut. The culprit standing just past the Catwalk's beginning being a scrawny Uruk in blue attire wielding a spear, he shrugged as more figures came running behind him.

The Atlesian immediately began climbing the falling catwalk to attempt to get to the next section of it when a massive figure launched into the platform and dislodged it from its other pieces. Zaffre instead kicked off the falling platform, landing on one of the tables as the catwalk collided with the ground.

"Nowhere to go." the large figure muttered as it turned to face Zaffre, like the other three who attacked this site he wore blue trousers and white and blue war paint over every piece of exposed flesh. Like the spear thrower and a third Uruk of the others he wore a metal helmet with organic-looking horns poking out of it, but what distinguished him from his accomplices was his extremely muscular form.

Zaffre flexed his wrists. Immediately the two bracers on his wrists responded by sliding two extremely thin purple and blue blades out. The Atlas Specialist could easily spot the room's exit, getting past the figure blocking his path was another thing entirely. As if to taunt him the Uruk crunched his knuckles together before charging. Zaffre immediately slid out of the way of the first punch only for a leg to sweep his feet out from under him before he could finish getting past the large brute. As he rolled to the side, he spotted the true source of that leg, another blue Uruk of much more reasonable physical appearance bearing the exact same attire as the other save for metal bracers on his arms and legs, ones which were easily identifiable as Atlesian in design.

"Aw, leaving so soon there pinky?" the Bracer said with a chuckle as the Brute arose and charged immediately, Zaffre darted to the side, aiming for the exit again only for the other Uruk to slide into his path once more. This time Zaffre swung his right wrist, which the Bracer easily slid out of the way of. Several more slashes were either deflected by the Uruk's arm attachments or dodged entirely, until Zaffre leaped to the side to avoid a rear attack from the Brute. What he wasn't expecting was the larger Uruk continuing the swing with enough momentum to grab the Specialist with his other hand before he could move out of the way.

All of a sudden he was pulled off the ground and swung with enough force to make him crack against the wall of the cave, aura flaring brightly as he slid down it to his feet. He opened his eyes just in time to see the Bracer hop into the outstretched hand of the Brute, who launched the smaller Uruk towards him. Zaffre rolled out of the way just as the Bracer's feet connected with the wall, the nimble creature leaping off it towards the Specialist who just barely ducked out of the way of a sweeping kick. He spun back and leaped over another Brutish swing only for his world to go white as searing electricity stabbed his aura from behind.

He lunged forward away from the source, turning to find the scrawny Uruk from before wielding a spear which had electricity spitting from its tip. The Spear-Wielder took no time in giving him a superior smirk before launching the weapon at him. Zaffre rolled out of the way more only to be caught on another one of the Brute's fists. It rammed into his gut, forcing his Aura to go into overdrive in order to keep it from tearing through him. He slammed against another wall before falling onto a table below, groaning loudly in pain as he looked up to see the three blue themed Uruks spread out and surround him. He could see the exit right past them, he just needed to be quick.

Praying that his Aura can hold out for the next few minutes, the Atlesian stood tall as the scrawny-Uruk pulled another spear from the pouch on his back. The Bracer, quickest out of the three, charged forward before leaping onto the desk. Zaffre stabbed at him several times before kicking up a discarded plate, the Bracer apparently hadn't anticipated this as he couldn't manage to move out of the way before the plate smashed against his head. As soon as he stumbled to the side Zaffre slid out of the way of a massive punch which ended up breaking the table. With two out of his way momentarily, he leaped off the now-broken table and charged the spear-thrower head on.

The Uruk frowned at him before leaning back and lobbing another spear at him, Zaffre slid under the spear and past the thrower before the creature could obtain another spear. Rising to his feet, the Specialist felt his heart leap into his throat at the sight of the fourth and final attacker blocking the tunnel he was aiming for. Zaffre steeled his will and kept his aim true even as the other Uruks behind him recuperated and began their pursuit once more. He sent his left blade swinging towards the fourth, who somehow slid entirely out of the way of the blade and off to the side in a single step. With his path now unobstructed, the Atlesian stumbled a bit before picking up speed. He could hear the sound of the Uruks loudly arguing a bit behind him, but the still persistent sound of their footsteps convinced him that pausing to hear was not a wise choice in the slightest.

Soon the tunnel he was in opened into a large cave with some high powered lights set up, several had been knocked carelessly down sending their beams in random directions. There were several industrial drills set up against the caverns walls, but those who operated them were most likely killed by the attackers. Near the end of the cavern was another tunnel which would eventually lead him to this site's exit. He dared not slow down, which worked against him when the Bracer leaped off one of the inactive drills and sent his leg into the side of the specialist's face.

Zaffre knew his Aura was in critical condition, he could actually feel the residual pain from that last attack. He stumbled to his feet as the Uruk stood straight, to the side the other attackers assembled after catching up. The Scrawny Uruk prepared to throw yet another electrical spear, but the metal-clad Uruk raised a hand and shook his head.

"No worries, I got this." the Bracer stated with another smug look before flexing a bit and adopting another stance "Make sure Oggie doesn't have a stroke once I win yet another trophy."

The Brute, who he assumed was Oggie, snorted at the implication. The Specialist swallowed nervously, raising his two wrist blades as the smiling Uruk slowly stepped forward. The Bracer took another step before swinging his leg up, Zaffre caught the kick on one blade before swiping at his grounded leg with the other. The Uruk seemed to realize his plan, because he kicked off with his grounded leg before swinging it towards his head. Zaffre lunged back, letting the Uruk fall back to his feet, trying to moderate his attention between the immediate threat and the other three standing off to the side watching.

He glanced back to see one of the industrial drills, and immediately grabbed hold of it, its wheels screeching as he dragged it along the cavern ground and swung it towards the Bracer. Unimpeded, the Uruk leaped on top of the piece of equipment, running along its length before leaping off at the Specialist. Zaffre raised both blades and caught the incoming kick before throwing the Uruk off of him. The creature managed to turn his fall into a roll as he slid back to the drill before immediately swinging one of his arms back against it. The long, drill head of the machine was snapped off by the sheer force which slammed into it, and the bracer spun with his momentum before launching the drill head towards the Atlesian.

Zaffre lunged to the side, just narrowly dodging the broken piece of equipment which spun past his head and embedded itself in the icy cave wall behind him. He turned back only to find his attacker had rapidly closed distance. He dodged swings as best as he could, moving back a step with each near miss. In the midst of this flurry he felt the edge of a foot wrap around his heel and pull, spinning him around out of nowhere, almost immediately making him face the drill head lodged in the cave wall behind him. An arm wrapped around one of his own arms and a fist grabbed hold of his hair before he was forced towards the metal piece. With his free arm he halted his own approach by stabbing his wrist blade into the wall just past the broken drill head, the Uruk pushed his head closer and closer to the sharp piece of equipment, grunting as the Atlesian forced himself back as far as he could with only one arm

Taking a gamble, Zaffre whipped his blade out of the ice quickly and swung it back against the Uruk's head before he could get impaled on the drill head. The creature stumbled back a bit with a small grunt, his aura going to work as the Specialist stumbled away from the wall and tried to catch his breath. What he hadn't anticipated was his opponent's almost immediate recovery from the blow, before he could even stand up straight the Bracer was already charging him again. The Specialist tried his hardest to deflect the next barrage of jabs, but after receiving two more blows devoted the last of his Aura on his semblance. The spear thrower had dodged out of the way, the Brute could smash his way through, but maybe if he could use it on the Bracer it'd help give him the escape option he desperately needed.

Clapping his hands together as his opponent readied another jab, a spear of ice formed at his knuckles and grew quickly. Recognizing the attack, the Bracer dropped down onto his back as the Spear grew a yard nearly instantaneously, puncturing the air. However, the Uruk immediately placed both hands on the ground behind his head, and launched himself back up before the Atlesian could finish his attack. The Uruk's two feet impacted with Zaffre's chest, forcing him off his feet and onto the metal drill in the wall, which pierced through his weakened aura and right through his torso as the weight of his body further impaled him on the protruding piece of metal.

Immediately Zaffre could taste blood, which he coughed out as he grabbed hold of the drill head. The Bracer stood tall as his opponent struggled, turning back to address his accomplices.

"I get the tark's gear now, right boss?" He asked with a chuckle, Zaffre couldn't see who responded, as his vision was already dimming.

"Wouldn't have gotten loot rights if Master didn't practically hand you this victory." the Brute grumbled with a huff, crossing his arms angrily as the Bracer approached the mortally wounded Atlesian

"Aw, what would you even do with things like these?" his victorious opponent asked the brute as he grabbed hold of one of Zaffre's arms "With how meaty you are, you'd end up breaking these things sooner than using 'em."

Before the banter could continue, the Bracer was distracted by the Specialist coughing up more blood.

"Hey there boy, thanks for the blades." the Uruk gave another smug grin as he tapped his claws against Zaffre's wrist blade "I'll put 'em to good use. Heh, I'll use 'em better than how you was using 'em I promise you that."


Tarz looked over the sketch provided to him, happily humming a little jig as he traced curves and runes. Also in the room with him were Hork's two highest ranked Captains, Dharg the Hell-Hawk and Pigug the Executioner. Dharg insisted on keeping his Hell-Hawk helmet on, despite everyone else removing their helmets for this little meeting. Even Pigug, who was dressed in his heavy dark armor, was willing to take off the thick helmet which sported the crude image of a skull on its faceplate.

Along with them were two of Tugog's greatest Captains, Dushrat the Advisor and Ishga Blood-Storm. Dushrat's Red armor was similar to Ishga's but Ishga always seemed to wear that white and red war paint on his exposed skin no matter the occasion. The Spear wielder was a Shaman technically, indicated by the helmet made from a skull which he carried under one arm. But that wasn't all, the two Tugog Loyalists had brought-

"Blood-Axe says this drawing's too small to bring us home," Skak Blood Axe said as he pated the weapon he was named after "maybe make a bigger one?"

"It's just a drawing, imbecile." Ishga clicked his thin tongue in irritation "Remain quiet, lest you embarrass the master further."

"Why did you even bring him?!" Dharg barked, running his glare across the Red captains.

"Skak is my responsibility, little bird," Blood-Storm replied with narrowed eyes "he will be by my side till further notice."

"What did you just call me?!"

"Uruks, Uruks please!"

The assembly of Captains all turned towards Tarz, who lowered his hands with another sick grin and aimed his disgusting face towards the symbol on the table they surrounded "As tantalizing as watching all of you argue is. I believe this is what we gathered for?"

"I agree with the Surgeon." Pigug spoke up in gruff tones before glancing towards the Reds as well "You say you've figured out its mechanics?"

Dushrat placed a hand to his mouth and coughed a bit "Well, our resident spiritual expert has discovered the meaning behind the Spell's symbols."

"Correct," Ishga interjected "after interrogating several of the hybrid Pinkskins I've discovered that many of these symbols are actually a form of old dialect used by one of the specific kingdoms of this land."

"Which is..?" Dharg pressed on

"Mistrallian," Blood-Storm concluded "ancient by today's standards. Though how they affected the spell exactly we can only assume."

"Perhaps a series of coordinates?" Pigug offered

"That's what I thought as well." Dushrat confirmed before gesturing towards the picture, tracing one claw along the symbols "Perhaps the spell in and of itself was supposed to be a portal all along, this Mistrallian dialect merely determined where it would take us."

Murmurs went around the table at the possibility, only to be interrupted by Skak "Blood-Axe wonders why we're here then?" he spoke up "You know, instead of at that Mistral place?"

"I said no interrupt-!"

Ishga was cut off by Dushrat "No, he makes a fair point." the Advisor muttered before lowering his hands and turning to the rest of the assembly "If the dialect used was Mistrallian in nature then why were we summoned to a location on the whole other side of the map?"

"We already determined they were coordinates, why wouldn't they just send us anywhere?" Dharg pointed out

"I understand that, but think about it." the Advisor pressed on before holding up a finger "A language used by those in ancient times, primarily from a continent part-way across the world, brings us here? I can't be the only one seeing an issue here."

"It's true, but-"

"All that matters is how quickly we can reverse it." came a new, thunderous voice

The assembled Uruks all turned quickly to see the massive form of Hork entering the room. Almost immediately Hork's loyal underlings kneeled in their master's presence, with Dushrat and Ishga giving small little bows. Skak looked confused, distracted by his weapon, while the Surgeon cracked another ghastly smile at the Warchief's presence.

"Where's Dreamer?" Ishga asked , leaning forward to glare at the Warchief.

Hork raised an eyebrow at Tugog's Uruks for a moment and replying "Writing down more of those accursed dreams of his, obviously." before pushing Tarz out of the way and taking his place, glaring down at the offending symbols before him "I care not for the meaning behind this ritual. I need to know how we return to Mordor as quickly as possible."

Dharg nodded to his superior "I say we find a link between this Mistrallian language and our own. We learn how to replicate the spell using our own coordinates instead, if it was a portal all along then changing where it takes us should be easy."

"Even if what you propose could work," Dushrat piped up before looking at Hork "in order to properly redo the spell exactly as it was done at the Black Gate we'd require an equivalent amount of resources, and I'm fairly certain half those ingredients don't even exist in this realm!"

"We have Pinkskins and symbols," Ishga interjected "it may not be exact but perhaps we find substitutes for missing ingredients?"

"You don't know that will work!" Dushrat stated.

"But we should try." Ishga insisted "Return home or not, I still wish to perform several tests regarding these portals. Working with the Surgeon, I've found that we may be able to recreate the portal on a much smaller scale."

"Correct!" piped up Tarz as he gave a nearly orgasmic sigh "Imagine it! Able to quickly travel to wherever we wish in the blink of an eye!"

"If it works!" Dushrat reminded them.

"We see your point Blood-Storm." Pigug spoke, growling at the Red-armored Uruks "But do not forget the final objective here, our Master wishes to return to his charge, it would be wise of you not to get in the way of that goal by chasing false hopes."

"Agreed," Dushrat stated "so Ishga and Tarz will continue studying the portal for the time being. Does that conclude talk of the Spell for now?"

The Uruks seemed to murmur agreements, some more grudging than others. Hork muttered his acceptance of their plan before Ishga brought something else to mind "But what about the unaligned Captains? With how far they could've traveled at this point there's no stopping the Kingdoms from learning of our existence, no matter how many they go through one of those stupid globs is going to rat us out eventually."

"Leave them be," Hork stated, as he turned to look at a crudely drawn map of Remnant hung on a nearby wall "hopefully Bubol's schemes will keep them focused on those traitors for the time being."

"But when they come for us, sir?" Dharg asked

"Then we defend this castle till the portal is reopened." Hork insisted

"Considering how long it may take to recreate it," Dushrat offered "I don't see that as being easy in any form."

"I held the Black Gate," The Warchief said firmly as he turned to face the plump advisor "strengthened its walls and kept it as a beacon of the Dark Lord's power. I've done so with dozens of towers, keeps, and strongholds of similar nature for the vast majority of my life. Defense is my specialty, and the specialty of each and every runt under my command, if this world's pathetic Pinkskins think that witchcraft and trinkets will help them topple a structure defended by me and mine, then they better be ready to taste nothing but death, defeat and disappointment."

Without giving the Tugog loyalists time to respond, Hork turned and left the room with Dharg and Pigug following closely behind. Tugog's captains looked at one another as silence reigned for a moment.

"Confident at least," Dushrat muttered "but we cannot place all our hopes on confidence."

"Agreed," Ishga said "we need to move somewhere the unaligned don't know of. Settle there and try recreating the spell without the threat of Tarks responding."

"Hork's followers may see it as an insult to their capability." Tarz added with a sly smirk on his "Maybe they'd cut us up just for suggesting somethin' like that."

"More likely than I'd hope." Ishga conceded "But we should at least have a plan of escape ready if the Warchief's confidence ever wavers enough."

"I suppose I can work on that while you and the Surgeon work on the spell." Dushrat offered, somewhat unsatisfied with his role "But make no mistake, we will be discussing the spell's origin again soon."

"Oh don't worry about it," Tarz waved it off as he approached Ishga and turned to face the Advisor "you can help us with the portal once the escape plan is ready and roaring. Even you can see which is more important for the time being."

Dushrat nodded, albeit with a glare before leaving the room as well. Ishga finally released a sigh as he moved to the other side of the table and returned his gaze to the symbol below.

"Okay," Tarz said as he looked over the symbol and smirked at his study partner "first step in figuring this little ritual out. We're going to need to learn how to read ancient Mistrallian."

Ishga groaned as the sheer weight of their task sank in.


In celebration of RWBY Vol. 4, here it is.

These beginning chapters always seem to require tons of backtracking, half of this chapter alone was cut out and replaced due to some inconsistencies I felt needed to be expanded upon similar to how the creation of the first chapter was. It wasn't small cuts either, so much of it was supposed to be centered on in this chapter that I had to change its title because they were no longer immediately relevant here. Those cuts will probably be in the next chapter somewhere, but for now voila.

I'm actually surprised I managed to get this out in less than a month, considering how much trouble the first chapter gave me. I can only hope that as I go on things will get easier and easier once a rhythm of sorts is established. Until then I'm always looking at viewer reception, what I can improve upon, things like that. So any reviews or comments are welcome.