Author's Note:
Well, RWBY Volume 7 is now over and done with. I will admit I've had mixed feelings about the entire Volume, the last Chapter especially, but that does not matter.
Before this chapter begins let me mske something clear, I have never played a D&D-like game before, and have no complete understanding of how it and similar such games work. I've been binge watching Critical Role, which sort of motivated me to do this chapter, and tried to read up on stuff on the game itself. It was overwhelming, so I made up a lot of stuff while loosely basing it on D&D mechanics and some other RPG stuff.
We will just have to see how it goes.
I hope you enjoy.
Heated Meetings and Dark Paths
The two week long Semester break Faen and his fellow students had enjoyed came to an end sooner after Jaune's ordeal was put to rest, for the time being anyway. Many first-years greeted the new semester with groans and some complaining, for it meant going back to nearly endless hours of lectures and gruelling training. Their upperclassmen peers took it better, and some had to smack a little sense into the first-year students, both figuratively and literally.
Before the second semester started, however, many Beacon students from all year groups had made sure to enjoy themselves on their last day of freedom before classes resumed once more. Some had gone so far as to have parties late into the night. Faen knew this because, despite his best efforts to fall asleep, the partiers in FFOG's dorm block were loud enough to keep him awake until freaking midnight. They were still going on by the time the Elf was finally able to succumb to the bliss of sleep, and he hoped they received a month of misfortune for their annoying behaviour.
Rather much to wish for, but if anyone dared to disturb his sleep in such a thoughtless way, they will suffer.
Aside from the maddening party stuff that happened at night, the day before had been fairly exciting for FFOG and their companions. Not every one of the things that happened was exciting in a good way, though.
For one, Grey transformed into the Wolf shortly after the team woke up, but she was safely locked inside their dorm's bathroom until she changed back an hour later. A couple hours before midday, a fire was almost started in the dorm block for the fifteenth time since the school year began, which was really starting to get old now. Later on that day, Team CRDL finally came back to Beacon from their temporary suspension, and they actually seemed to have learnt something from their time away from the Academy.
Sure they were still asses, as they still gave people a hard-time, but CRDL was far more subdued when compared to how they were before their suspension. They also appeared to avoid giving Teams JNPR, FFOG, and RWBY less of a hard-time, or at least tried to anyway.
He was curious just what had happened during CRDL's period of suspension, and how they had been 'disciplined,' but that did not really matter to Faen. The Humans had been chastised for their bullying, that was what mattered.
Other stuff happened as well, but the most memorable thing happened at lunchtime, where both Teams RWBY and JNPR had gotten into the absolute mother of all foodfights. Faen had never seen anything like it, and he found himself repeatedly replaying particular moments of it in his mind, for in the strangest of ways it had been a fascinating, awesome, and completely bizarre spectacle to watch. Faen and the others were not sure they would ever see something like it ever again, and wondered what would have happened if they got into the foodfight as well.
FFOG did not get involved, because both Faen and Odori held onto Grey and Friesian to prevent the pair from joining in on the 'fun.' Faen's reasons were that he did not want his team to get into trouble for this, for the food fight between RWBY and JNPR turned the entire cafeteria interior into a chaotic warzone from the Great War. That and it would be an absolute bitch to clean the food stains from their clothes if they did join in.
He and FFOG probably should have put a halt to the entire thing, but it was just so fascinating, that, after having successfully restrained Grey and Friesian, Faen stood back and watched the whole thing from the entrance. There were a few near misses, such as how a swordfish of all things nearly impaled him in the chest, yet it was amusing enough to warrant the risk.
In the end, Professor Goodwitch came storming in after the food fight had just ended, and restored the place back to its normal state. Although, the food stains splattered all over the back wall would be a nightmare for the janitorial crews to clean. She looked about ready to give RWBY and JNPR detention for the rest of the school year, if Headmaster Ozpin had not come in an intervened.
While the Humans, and one Faunus, had nearly demolished the cafeteria, Faen was surprised to see the Headmaster was more amused by it all than anything else. What surprised him and the other onlookers more, which were FFOG and two exchange students, was how Ozpin convinced the Professor to let the two teams be before leaving. Now, Faen had to admit that was very lenient of the Headmaster, and he secretly questioned why RWBY and JNPR had been excused from being punished for renacting the Battle of Ceniza Bay in the Academy's cafeteria. Faen was not complaining, not at all, he was just perplexed by the decision.
That had all happened yestreday, and something other than the start of classes was happening now.
Standing together by the statue erected at the centre of Beacon's great courtyard, Team FFOG looked on as more newly arrived exchange students in grey-and-white uniforms manoeuvred into the courtyard from the long avenue from Beacon's docks. All these students were from Atlas, Remnant's northern most Kingdom, and were as much soaking in Vale's comparatively warmer climate as they were admiring Beacon. It was overcast today, but Vale must surely be warmer than Atlas any day of the year.
A majority of the new arrivals were Humans, but there were also Faunus and Demi-Humans among the exchange students. Faen's eyes tracked the few Demi-Humans more than he did the others, and what he saw included a Jotunn, three Valkyries, a pair of Orcs, a possible Were-Beast, and even a Halfling of all creatures. Not many of these students really stood out to Faen, and he wondered how many of them would be an actual challenge for him to fight. Only time would answer that question.
The coming weeks would provide ample opportunities for him to see, for, considering these exchange students would be in the same classes as him and the others, Faen was sure he would face a few of them in a sparring match. Honestly, it was the only thing Faen found to be worth looking forward to with these new people.
Looking around, FFOG were not the only ones checking out the exchange students from Atlas, as a fair number of other teams and individual students were present as well. Some were doing the same as FFOG, and carefully watched the Atlas students walk past them without uttering a word to them. A few actually approached the new arrivals and welcomed them to Beacon, while an even smaller number greeted old friends from before attending an Academy. FFOG were a part of the first category, as were Team AMRT, who were stood not too far from Faen and his team.
Amarantha, AMRT's team leader, silently watched the Atlas students with her usual stony face, even when a possibly ophidiophobic student almost collapsed out of fright when they laid eyes on the snake half of the Naga's body. Monica stood beside her team leader, looking far better in this weather when compared to the feverish state she was in yesterday due to all the sunlight Beacon had been getting these past few days. Reuel was doing as fine as ever, and kindly greeted the Atlesians with a wave and pearly white smile, which might have earned him a fair few admirers if Faen was right about how some Atlesians responded. Tora, on the other hand, was doing his absolute best to intimidate the new arrivals by showing off his powerful physique.
RWBY and JNPR could not be with them, however, for they had gone off to the library to study after their last class with them ended, or so they said anyway.
Faen had spied what looked to be the box of a board game in Ruby's backpack, and one does not just carry such a thing around for shits and giggles. Oh well, it was not his business anyway. So long as it did not negatively affect him or those others around him, the Elf was cool with whatever Ruby and the others got up to.
Of FFOG's latest addition, she was not on Beacon grounds, for Yasmin had apparently been sent off to perform an errand of some importance. What she was up to Faen had no clue, as the Elf-Dracon kept the details of this 'errand' close to her chest. If Faen had to be honest with himself, he both wanted to know and not know what Yasmin was doing right now.
There was still so much he did not know of Yasmin, the Elf could not help but feel cautious about anything she did.
"So, that's our competition from Atlas? Huh, they don't look so tough," Faen heard Grey remark as she watched more Atlesian students disembark from their Airship in the distance. She had boldly spoken loud enough for a few Atlas students to hear her, resulting in some sending her dirty looks, but they all refrained from doing anything else when the Werewolf showed off her teeth and the sharp claw-like nails to them.
"I hope they are at least somewhat challenging to face. It can get boring facing off against the same people over and over again," Odori commented with a wide yawn.
"Y'know, it is super weird that the Atlesian Military came along. Nothing like this has happened since, well, since ever." Friesian added to what the two had to say about the Atlesians' arrival, his head eyeing the Atlesian Airships that were now occupying the airspace above Beacon. The Elf took a second to glance up from the passing students from Remnant's northern most Kingdom as well, and look to the three armed vessels that had apparently escorted them all the way here.
It had been a wholey unexpected sight to see when they left their last class of the day, and many people were making a big deal about the presence of these warships in Vale airspace. What was an even bigger deal was the rumoured presence of General Ironwood, the Headmaster of Atlas Academy and leader of all that Kingdom's military forces. Now, what business the General had in Beacon, Faen and the other students could only speculate, but it could not be good if he and what looked to be half a squadron of airships had come all the way down to Beacon. Faen heard things were getting crazy as of late, but he never guessed it was crazy enough to warrant something like this.
Not only that, but, according to even more rumours, the Altesians were planning to unveil some androids down at Vale. Apparently these new android soldiers, Atlesian Knights as they liked to call them, were a redesign of Atlas' last models; made to be faster, stronger, and overall better than any of their predecessors. Faen had only ever seen the last models, the AK-130s, in pictures and videos, and could confidently say a redesign was something those mechanical soldiers needed.
These new androids were supposed to be officially revealed to the general public of Vale, and Remnant if one considered the news coverage that would be present at the event, in the coming weeks or so. Interesting as it would be, Faen had no wish to personally go and see the reveal, as he would likely have more important things to do. Such as doing his homework and training, this was a Huntsman Academy after all.
But, there was something that bugged him about the impending reveal of these new robot soldiers from Atlas. Why were they being shown off here and now?
There was something going on here, he just lacked the adequate pieces to see the bigger picture.
Looking away from the Atlesian airships above him, Faen turned his attention back to the Atlas students before him. A minute passed as he and the rest of FFOG continued to watch the Atlesians, with so very few of them truly sticking out to him in any meaningful way, just like those that had come before them. It was when Faen had finally given up in trying to find a person worthy of his attention among the new arrivals that something finally did, and he was not pleased at all by what he saw.
A figure barely over half Faen's own height came stomping down the paved avenue, a trio of other Atlesian students following behind him. The figure wore the white-and-grey uniform of Atlas Academy, which had been adjusted to accommodate his shorter yet stockier form. On their face was meticulously well-groomed orange facial hair that would no doubt form a full beard later in his life, with the rest of the hair on his head done into a short braid that fell down to his back. Tattooed over his left in black ink was a rune that Faen knew stood for the letter 'H'.
Faen knew full well who this person was, and knowing they were here left a supremely bitter taste in his mouth.
It was a Dwarf. The Dwarf, in fact, the very same one he had to put up with back in Vigil Martial School.
Halvard Bergson of Clan Sternsteel.
Fate, in all its capriciousness, had decided to drop twelve metric tonnes of crap on him by bringing the Dwarf to Beacon. Not for the first time, nor would it be the last, did Faen wish to give wring Fate's neck and give it the greatest backhand that the universe had ever seen for doing this to him.
Not a moment after Faen had caught sight of him; the Dwarf took note of Faen and his two teammates, and, after saying a quick word to his companions, started to walk over to where Faen and his teammates stood. Seeing no way of wriggling out of this, not that he would have tried to, Faen stood as tall as he could and fixed the coldest glare he could muster onto the Dwarf. His white eyes locking with the Dwarf's eyes, which were as dark as coal.
"Hey Faen, what's up?" Grey asked him as soon as she noticed he had focused eyes on something. He did not need to answer her, for the Werewolf understood what was going on soon enough, and was quick to express it. "Uh oh."
"'Uh oh'? What's going on?" The Elf heard Friesian question the two. He and Odori were undoubtedly confused by the sudden change in the atmosphere and the pair's behaviour. If Faen had known the Dwarf was going to be here today, he would have given his teammate a heads-up on what would happen, and a warning to stay out of it.
He did not, though, and Faen would have to trust his two other teammates to understand when they saw something best left alone.
"So you attend Beacon now, Elfling? I honestly didn't think you'd make it into an Academy, but I guess anything's possible these days," the Dwarf loudly called out to Faen as soon as he was twelve paces away from him. His voice was the same as it had been the day they last spoke to one another; loud and possessing a distinct accent Faen could recognise anywhere.
"Halvard, this is quite the surprise. Are you lost? This is an Academy for Huntsman-in-Training, and you are nowhere near worthy of being among us, let alone becoming a Huntsman." Faen replied to Halvard's words with a snide remark of his, pouring as much bitterness and resentment into it as he could muster. This was nothing new for the Elf and Dwarf, and was more or less how the two always greeted each other back in Vigil.
"Oh, I am worthy of becoming a Huntsman, you soft-skinned pansy, the scars on my body are proof of that. I'm guessing this here is your team," Halvard spoke as he eyed the three other members of FFOG who were stood with Faen. A glint of recognition flashed across Halvard's face as he laid eyes on Grey, and sent a terse nod her way. He furrowed his brow when he saw Friesian, yet he was not as visibly disturbed by the fact the Dullahan's head hanged on a belt as most others did. The Dwarf paused when he noticed Odori's five fox-tails, and looked as though he may have something to say, but shook his head slightly and faced Faen once again.
His teammates said nothing to the Dwarf, which was a good thing as far as Faen was concerned. So long as they were quiet, the chances of Halvard finding something to use against him would be low to absolute zero.
"How have the days been treating you, Elf? You haven't been shagging any tree or actually gotten stuck in walls as of late, have you?" Halvard said with a sly sneer across his face. Faen felt a vein in his temple almost burst at that last sentence.
He hated with a passion that his people were somehow seen as tree-hugging savages or prancing hippies by some people in Remnant. Sure he had some respect for nature, but he was in no way at all obssessed with it in the way some people thoughtlessly believed his people were. Also, that mention of getting 'stuck in walls' was Halvard reminding him of how one of their earliest spars had almost ended. A grievance Faen had yet to fully repay the Dwarf for.
The Dwarf knew these were easy buttons to press, especially the latter, and often gloated right in Faen's face about them. Still, there were ways Faen could get back at him for those insults.
"Huh, I would ask the same of you, Dwarf. That... hahah, 'beard' of yours, I see it has not fully grown yet. Should your kind not have one by now, or is it you are no true Dwarf as you so often claim to be." Faen was really stepping on Halvard's toes here, for while he may have sounded petty, Dwarf men absolutely loved their facial hair, and insulting theirs earned most people a black-eye if the indignant Dwarf was feeling generous. They took their facial hair so seriously, there was even a saying that Dwarves would go to war over someone forcibly shaving the beards of even one of their kind.
Halvard remained stoic, and appeared unaffected by Faen's attempt to goad him a reaction out of him, but the Elf knew Halvard was fuming on the inside. Normally the Dwarf would have made an attempt to strike Faen, as he had the many times they had an exchange similar to this, however, he maintained a calm exterior. There was no doubt in Faen's mind that Halvard was planning to punish him for that insult, and the Dwarf could plan away for all he cared. Faen would best whatever attempt his nemesis made, and one-up him soon after.
"I hear there's been a bit of a rise in crime spree Vale as of late. Dust shop robberies, and some sort of Dust heist down in Vale's docks." The Dwarf said as he crossed his arms and then locked a deathly glare on Faen. Just where was he going with this? "There haven't been any... kidnappings or disappearances, too, have there? It'd be most unfortunate if such a thing rose in a city as nice as Vale. I'd hate to learn you or any others of your kind might be behind any, if there have been any."
Of course Halvard would go there. What a surprise.
Faen formed a counter remark, one that would imply his kind to be behind the Dust robberies because of their excessive greed, followed by a stabbing comparison between Dwarves and Goblins. Halvard would truly hate that, and might just be enough to provoke him into a fight, a possibility Faen wholeheartedly welcomed. Before he could even open his mouth to say it, however, someone else stepped in and spoke up first.
"Faen would never do such a thing!" Odori unexpectedly hissed at Halvard, taking a threatening step towards him as she spoke in Faen's defence. While he very much felt grateful for his teammate speaking up for him, Faen did not want her to.
"You got spirit there, lass, a lot more than the knife-ears over here anyway." Halvard responded to Odori, turning his head to face her as he planted both his hands on his hips. Meanwhile, Faen glared daggers at the Dwarf for that 'knife-ears' remark he had just made. "Are you the team leader? It must be a pain to deal with him 24/7."
"I am not, we are Team FFOG, and Faen is the one who leads us. He may not be perfect, but I would have no finer warrior or friend than Faen be at the helm of anything we do. Even if we had to go into the darkest nest of Grimm I would follow him without a second thought. Can you say the same for yourself?" Odori replied to Halvard's comment, causing the Dwarf's eyes to widen and his brow to furrow at the revelation that Faen was a team leader, which the Elf had to admit, was amusing to watch.
Still, while the Kitsune had not said too much, the passion with which Odori spoke in his defence was... strange to Faen, almost off-putting in fact. While he had spent months here in Beacon getting used to working with strangers more and more, it was still odd to Faen how people who had not known him long were willing to speak up for him. He, if he had to be completely honest with himself, doubted if he would do such a thing if he were in their shoes.
Maybe he should change that thought process, and reconsider how he acted towards those who did treat him that way. He would just have to see.
Refocusing his mind on the 'conversation' with Halvard, Faen tried to gauge the Dwarf's reaction to learning of his team leader status. What he saw was Halvard scrunching up his brow, and turning his gaze between Faen, Odori, and the other members of FFOG, as though he were trying to discern the truth of what Odori had said by sight alone. The thing Halvard did next was something Faen had come to expect of him, he laughed.
"Hahahah, you're a team leader now, eh? That's funny; I'm a team leader as well!" Halvard continued to laugh for a few more seconds before he finally ceased. The Dwarf waved a hand towards the members of his team, who were stood a short ways away and speaking with a team of Beacon students Faen had never bothered to learn the names of. "See over there? That there is my team. Team HONE (Honey), as sturdy as stone, and more reliable than steel."
It was now Faen's turn to frown at the information relayed to him, as he had hoped the Dwarf would be stuck with simply being a team member, and not the one to lead a team of Huntsmen-in-Training. Nothing but the wish to simply outrank the Dwarf and have something to gloat over him had motivated that desire.
Taking a more careful look at the rest of Halvard's team, Faen could see they consisted of two Humans and one Bear Faunus. They, like most others who attend the Huntsmen Academies, seemed to look both unique and crazy in their own ways, but they appeared pretty ordinary as of right now.
"My, my, the Atlesians must be desperate if they're willing to make someone of your... stature a team leader." Faen jibed at Halvard, mocking his shortness for the two-hundredth time since they had met each other. He was aware this would not affect him as strongly as the beard comment, but anything that might grind at the Dwarf's gears was good enough for Faen.
"Tch, insulting my height again, you twiggy freak? Your bark is getting as terrible as your bite," Halvard said whilst rolling his eyes at Faen. "The General's got a good eye for talent, Elf, but I'm thinking Ozpin is getting a bit senile if he let you be a student here."
"As expected, your time spent face first in your own shit with your cannon shoved up your ass has muddled your mind. Ozpin is wise and knowledgeable because of his age, Dwarf. He can sense great potential in people just by taking a single glance at someone," Faen shot back at Halvard. While he could not say he fully believed in what he meant, Ozpin was the Headmaster of Beacon, so, by defending Ozpin's honour he was defending his own as well. "Your General is not only desperate for warriors; he is also delusional if he truly believes you will make a great warrior, or even a team leader for that matter."
After having said that, the two Demi-Humans proceeded to wordlessly glare at each other, Faen's eyes filling with a cold light while Halvard's burned hot with the heat of a furnace. He was barely aware of his three teammates, who were stood awkwardly to the side, while several onlookers had taken note of their tense exchange and watched from a distance. What mattered most to him right now was to beat Halvard in this little 'staring competition' of theirs.
They stayed this way for what felt like several minutes, though it most surely have been mere seconds, before the two abruptly broke off from each other. Faen was tired of dealing with him anyway, and their encounter had pretty much soured his entire day.
"I'll be seeing you later, Elfling," Halvard grunted. He followed this up by making an offensive hand gesture at Faen as the Dwarf turned his back on him, and started to walk off to join the rest of his team.
"It will be in a sparring ring! That you can bet on," Faen called out as the Dwarf retreated from him. The Dwarf gave him one last dirty look from over his shoulder before rejoining he finally rejoined his team, and continued making his way to Beacon's main building with them. As they strolled further down the courtyard, Faen watched the Dwarf, boundless spite overwriting any other emotion that could be present in his eyes.
Only once Halvard and his team had disappeared through the doorway to Beacon's main hall and amphitheatre did Faen finally stop trying to murder the Dwarf with his unrelenting glare. Facing away from where Halvard had gone, and back to his team, he saw they had been joined by Team AMRT and all had worried looks on their faces. Their exchange had appeared that serious another team had felt the need to come over, and most likely ask if he were alright?
Well, considering he was deliberately trying to goad the short Demi-Human into a confrontation, Faen guessed they had a good enough reason to do just that. But the matter with the Dwarf was his to deal with, and Faen would very much prefer his companions let him do so.
"Faen, are you alright?" Amarantha asked him, a brow raised in both concern and intrigue. No doubt she, and everyone else except Grey, was wondering what the full story between him and the Dwarf was.
Noticing a fairly sharp pain coming from his right palm for the first time, Faen looked down and saw he had unconsciously balled his right hand into a tight first for goodness knows how long. Raising the hand as he unclenched it, Faen saw he had kept it that way for so long his nails left deep marks on his palm, and he might had broken through the skin if they stayed that way for just a while longer. It was also then that the Elf realised there was a terrible pounding sensation in his head, which felt as though an Ogre was taking a morning stroll inside his skull.
Yeah, meeting Halvard again had really messed him up inside, and he needed to rest or find some sort of distraction that would take the whole thing out of his mind for the time being. Getting away from all these people might be want he needed.
A part of him, one that had been growing in the back of his mind as of late, demanded he speak to the fellow Demi-Humans who were stood with him instead. Perhaps he should, other people seemed to do that when they had problems like this, but the other part of him, the one that insisted he deal with this privately, overrode it and Faen followed it. He was, after all, not 'other people'.
Some other time, maybe, now was no it though.
"I'm fine," Faen lied to Amarantha and the others as he shoved both hands into his trouser pockets, "there's something I need to do in our dorm. Excuse me."
With that Faen turned on his heel and started to quickly walk away from his team and AMRT, knocking past anyone who got in his way to the dorm blocks.
It was a silent, uneventful trip back to the dorms, or so Faen thought as it seemed to pass like an incoherent blur, and he found himself at the door to his team's dorm room in what felt like no time at all. Having reached and actually opened the door, the Elf saw his team had followed him back to their shared dorm. They were silent, whether his teammates had tried to say something to him on their way here the elf had no clue, for he had tuned out everything except the harsh pounding inside his head.
Still saying nothing, the Elf walked through the doorway, collapsed onto his bed and shut his eyes. The pounding in his head had gotten far worse than when he was outside, so maybe a brief rest here would remedy it. He was sure it was nothing serious, and there was no need for him to go to Beacon's infirmary, Faen just needed to rest.
Hopefully, his team would understand that, and let him relax for a while. Maybe even allow him to have a short nap. That would be nice, actually.
"So, uh, that was a thing. Might if we have a little chat about it? Like what's the history behind this beef you and that Dwarf have with each other, boss? Because I'd really like to know what I just saw happen back there," Friesian could be heard asking him, clearly still confused by what he had just seen. Not feeling in a mood to answer any such question, and rather peeved by the Dullahan interrupting his rest, Faen waved a hand towards Grey, wordlessly telling her to explain for him.
She got the message, for a second later, his Werewolf friend began to speak.
"Faen and Halvard have a bit of a... They've been like this since they first met back in Vigil," Grey began answer Friesian's question for him, "and lemme tell you, it's an ugly affair that's not worth getting involved with."
"How ugly are we talking?" Odori voice inquired as he felt a weight gently fall on the bed close to his right leg, what he thought to be fingers playing with a lock of his white hair. Taking a guess, Faen believed Odori had taken a seat on the bed, and started to play with a lock of his hair, which Faen permitted for it was an unexpectedly pleasant sensation. The only other person who had done this before, was also in the room and their name rhymed with the word 'fray.'
"It is ugly enough that they tried killing each other in their last 'duel of honour.'" The Werewolf continued, letting out an audible sigh as soon as she had finished her sentence.
"You're joking?" The Dullahan loudly exclaimed, and his head was probably looking towards him with a flabbergasted expression on it. That or he was completely bamboozled; a bit of variety could not hurt.
"No I'm not. The two of them would have gone ahead with it if our Mentor had not intervened," Grey instantly continued speaking as soon as Friesian was done. She was most likely shaking her head in exasperation right about now. "Boy, they were super pissed."
Oh yes, that had been one hell of a Wednesday, no doubt about that.
Now, if they could just leave the matter be, and let him relax for maybe ten to twenty minutes. The pounding in his head was starting to die down, and Faen wanted this damn feeling gone before they headed off to grab some dinner.
"Wait a second... Is that the Dwarf who shot you in the face and almost stuck you into a wall?" At the mention of that incident, Faen scrunched his face up into an ugly frown, and if he had wished to, would have given Friesian the worst stink-eye he could summon. "I'll take that as a yes. Also, what did was he trying to imply with all that talk of you being behind disappearances in Vale? He made it sound as though you were a kidnapper of sorts."
There was another long pause, one that no one seemed capable or willing to end. Faen could imagine Grey was casting him an awkward look from wherever she was stood or sat, while Friesian and Odori were sending questioning glances to the both of them.
It was a touchy subject what Friesian had asked, and if Faen had his way, one that would never be brought up around him ever again. Not out of shame, no, but purely because he was tired of people thinking they could use it as a weapon against him or that it was something that he was trying to correct somehow. Really, out of the two, Faen was not sure which was the more annoying to put up with at times.
"Friesian, you're toeing hot water right now. Stop before you get scalded," Grey warned the Dullahan. Knowing full well what it was Halvard had been implying back at the courtyard.
"Oh, uh... sorry if I'm being nosy, boss. I just want to understand what the heck is going on between you and that Dwarf is all," Friesian awkwardly apologised to him.
Faen was glad for what Grey had done for him, and he might have just let the whole conversation end right then and there. As much as he may wish for it to be that way, however, upon a quick reflection on such a course of action, it would be detrimental to his team in the long-run. They would want to know what Halvard had been talking about, and his refusal to tell might make them suspect he had some pretty messed up secrets that he was refusing to tell them. Maybe he was just overreacting, but such a possibility was not one Faen was ready to stomach.
Yes the Elf was witholding some stuff, nothing like being a murderer or anything, but things he would much rather keep to himself. He could tell Odori and Friesian about it, for he had already told Grey, and it was not as though the information was world-shatttering or anything of the like. Or at least, that was as far as Faen was concerned, anyway.
So with great reluctance, Faen opened his eyes and made to join the conversation. Instead, once Faen had gotten up from the bed, the only noise that left his opened mouth was a low exhale of air as his mind tripped on doubt.
He was sure his teammates would want to know what Halvard had been talking about, but how they would take it abruptly cast doubt in the Elf's mind. As mentioned before, what he was planning to tell them was nothing capable of changing their worldview, and Faen had made peace with the knowledge he would divulge, but would his two teammates be able to? People had cut ties and kept long-lasting grudges over less, and while it had happened long, long ago, there was no knowing how his teammates would react to it. They had proven trustworthy thus far, though, and revealing it would be an adequate enough test of that belief.
Noticing his teammates were looking at him, Faen understood that he needed to make a decision now.
"It's... fine, Friesian. I suppose I could tell both you and Odori," he said whilst putting himself into a more comfortable sitting position. The pounding in his head was back with a vengence, but at least it was not as terrible when compared to when he started to feel it.
"Are you sure Faen? What you're planning to tell them is... it's gonna be some real heavy stuff," Grey asked, her arms crossed and with a brow raised as though questioning the wisdom of such an action.
"My mind is made up," Faen declared with a heavy sigh. Grey was still sceptical, her face said it all, but his mind was set and his teammates were now expecting some sort of answer from him. She said nothing, though, and stood by the door with her wolf-ears trying to pick up whether or not someone was outside their dorm. After waiting for a few seconds, Grey turned back to the rest of FFOG and spoke once more. "You can go on."
It was now or never. Actually, there was one last thing he needed Friesian and Odori to do before he went ahead with his plan.
"Before I tell you anything, I need the both of you to swear that what you hear in this room stays between the team until I say so." Faen demanded of them, giving both of his teammates such an intense glare that there was no mistaking the seriousness of their conversation, nor of the oath he wished for them to take. They got the message, and were quick to accept his condition.
"Sure thing boss," Friesian stated whilst his body made an 'X' over his heart with a finger, and rose his other hand as one would normally expect. It was odd to Faen, and he suspected it to be some kind of Kingdomer mannerism the Dullahan had picked up, but it would do for now.
"If it is that important to you, Faen, I'll do whatever you ask." Was Odori's response to his demand, doing no special gesture or sign to mark the sincerity of her words. Faen would much rather she actually do one, and gave the Kitsune a meaningful look upon seeing she had no intention of doing anything of the like, yet Faen guessed that it did not matter really. It was just him being a little... nitpicky, or so he surmised.
Well, with that out of the way, here goes nothing.
"Back in Vigil, Halvard was my nemesis, and I his. It sort of just... clicked the moment we entered the same room, but we found reasons to dislike each other soon enough. One reason was probably our contrasting personalities, I guess," Faen began to explain to Friesian and Odori, fighting against the incessant pounding that racked the Elf's head as he did. "For Halvard, one of the main reasons why he hates me is because, centuries before we Demi-Humans remerged into the world of Remnant, my ancestors were... slavers."
"What?!" Both Friesian and Odori almost yelled loudly, making Faen shut his eyes for a moment and clench his teeth. He was in the deep-end now; the only thing he could do next was to wade into it further.
Looking over to Grey, the Werewolf shook her head as soon as their eyes met, answering the unspoken question that had yet to escape his lips. Good, there was still no one in the corridor outside that could overhear them, or at least no one Grey could detect anyway. Trusting in his best friend's superior senses, Faen returned his gaze to Odori and Friesian, and carried on with his explanation.
"Do you know of the Elven Raids? The time when Elf Reavers plundered the coasts?" Faen now asked, eliciting an interested look from Odori, while one of uncertainty came over Friesian.
"No," Friesian immediately responded, eliciting groans of annoyance from Grey and Odori. The Dullahan's head just rolled his eyes at their reactions, and was quick to defend himself. "Uh, I'm bad at history guys; you should all know that by now."
Yes, yes he most certainly was. Friesian was good in most other subjects, especially those that needed a more practical touch, such as Weapon Crafting and Upkeep, but History almost completely flew right over his head. Regardless, a quick history lesson was what was needed for his two teammates to appropriately comprehend what he had to tell them.
"As I was saying, my family is descended from slavers. Back when the Enclaves were in hiding slavery or 'indentured servitude' was commonplace, but my people, the Elves, took it further and we raided anyone and everyone in search of slaves and plunder. We would even go so far as to break the Edicts of Isolation, and raided Human and Faunus realms on rare occasions," Faen continued on, keeping a close eye on Odori and Friesian's faces and body language as he spoke. "We Tatharions made a name for ourselves as seaborne raiders of all coastlines, and our hauls made us so rich we could have been millionaires if we had that money today."
This was obviously all new to Friesian, but Odori seemed to have some understanding of the events he was talking about, however. The Elven Raids were a black-eye in the history of his people, and were not something one made conversation of at the dinner table, nor a topic one speaks to their friends about. Hells, what history books there were about the Elves tended to skim over it and speak of the 'Enlightenment', where the Elves and Demi-Humans in general experienced progressive changes in regards to their culture and societal practises.
Again, Faen had made peace with the knowledge of his family's involvement in it, and oh how involved they were, but some did not get the message. Some clung far too tightly to the past than what should sensible, and resented him for things that happened entire generations ago.
A certain Dwarf being among those nuisances.
"The Elven Raids. How involved were your family in them?" Odori asked in a soft voice that betrayed no emotion, and her crimson coloured eyes were looking at him with absolutely undivided attention. It was almost disconcerting how intensely Odori was looking at him.
"One of my ancestors was a raid leader for twenty-six years. That was how involved in the Raids my family were," Faen confessed to his teammates, startling the two even further. That ancestor, Helegnir Tatharion, was probably the closest his family had come to fame, but he was definitely nothing something Faen should really brag about in public.
As much as the memory of Helegnir was a black mark on his family's history, there was a part of Faen that felt compelled to respect and honour him to a degree. Aside from being a vicious Reaver, he was a great warrior who fought beside his fellow Reavers when most raid leaders did not, and was a decent guy by the standards of Elves at the time.
Also, probably the biggest reason Faen had to honour his ancestor, was the fact that he based Gwaedh's design on the ancestral blade Helegnir wielded during his time as a raid leader. What depictions of his ancestor existed had him wield a slender, single-edged sword, which Faen guessed had left an impression on him after seeing it the first six times. He had not tried to make his dao an exact replica, for Helegnir's weapon had a straight blade as opposed to the moderately curved one Gwaedh had, and the silvered coating on Gwaedh's blade was just something Faen really wanted for his weapon to satisfy his aesthetic tastes.
"What does this have to do with that Dwarf?" Friesian now pressed Faen, getting to the meat of their conversation.
"One of my ancestor's raids lead them to a coastal port on Avalon, and when they found it, my ancestors did what they had done for years. They attacked the settlement and captured half of the town's populace for our slave markets. Among them were some of Halvard's ancestors," Faen explained to his teammates. They grimaced upon hearing this, and seemed to know where he was going with all this. "One of Halvard's ancestors escaped the raid, and told the rest of his Clan about what happened. Creating a feud between my family and his that has lasted centuries."
"Centuries? Boss, if all that happened so long ago why would this contribute to you and Halvard being enemies?" Friesian said, continuing on with his questions. Faen did not answer immediately, for he thought Friesian would know the answer to that at least, but it seemed his exposure to the Kingdoms' ways and customs had really come at the cost of his understanding of other Demi-Human races.
"Dwarves believe that the sins of the father pass to the son, and they have not forgiven my family for what we did to them centuries ago. We already did not like each other, but learning I was a Tatharion worsened our feelings of enmity." There, he had finally told Friesian and Odori all they needed to know on this particular aspect of the feud between him and Halvard. Now, with that explanation concluded, perhaps he could now rest without any interruptions whatsoever.
As he was positioning himself into a more comfortable position on his bed, however, his teammates had one more question for him.
"Hypothetically speaking, if you wanted to put an end to the feud between your two families, what would you need to do?" Friesian now asked him all of the sudden. From his lying position, Faen was unsure whether he should punch or slap the Dullahan's head for not letting him have some much needed rest right now. The Elf supposed that, if he wanted that rest, he had better answer it quickly and make a point of his desire to relax for a short period of time.
"Hypothetically speaking, my family would need to pay Halvard's back in money, blood, and give them a apology for all the wrongs we've done to them. Bah, the Underworld will freeze over before my family consents to anything like that," the Elf spat as he rested his head on his bed pillow. That was not all he had to say, as he had one last thing to make clear about this feud between him and the Dwarf. "My family and I made peace with our ancestors' actions ages ago, and learnt to live with it. I will not apologise to that Dwarf for what my forefathers did to his, even if the Goddess of Darkness commanded me to. Now, if you will excuse me, I want to catch some shut-eye."
Finally, with that darn conversation over and done with, Faen rested the back of his head on his hands and closed his eyes. Getting the message, Faen could hear the three other team members of FFOG quietly spoke among themselves, though, knowing that he could still hear them, they refrained from speaking of the conversation they just had. A very wise choice as far as Faen was concerned.
What they did speak of included stuff such as the newly arrived exchange students, other teams in Beacon, the coming Vytal Festival, and some sort of dance that was to be held near the end of the semester. It was going to be a very exciting first year in Beacon, and Faen wondered, as well as dreaded, how interesting the rest of their time in the Academy would be. That was a problem for latter, right now they had other things to worry about.
It was as his three teammates were conversing that a subject that almost roused Faen from his rest was brought up. That subject being the game of 'Dark Paths' Friesian had been organising for weeks, hell, months actually.
After all that time spent planning and preparing, Friesian had announced to his companions that this evening was to be when they played their first session of his peculiar role-playing game. It was a bit odd to Faen that his teammate had chosen a school evening to play this game of his, and would have much preferred they do this during a weekend, but the ultimate decision fell on Friesian so what could he do? Faen still had reservations about this entire thing, as did a couple others, but if it were a worthwhile distraction from the stress of studying in Beacon, then he would have no further problems with the Dullahan and whatever he defined as 'fun'.
With that in mind, Faen let his mind drift off to places where no Dwarves or conversations he wanted no part in could follow.
Hours passed, and that time progressed fairly normally and far more calmly when compared to the events earlier that day and the previous days before.
Upon reuniting with most of RWBY and JNPR at dinner, most because Blake was noticeably absent, the Humans introduced them to a pair of exchange students from Shade Academy. The very same ones that had witnessed the food fight between RWBY and JNPR yesterday, and now Faen had names to give the two young men he had seen. Sun Wukong and Neptune Vasilias.
Both were members of the same team; Team SSSN, which was lead by none other than Sun himself. As with Team RWBY, that was not confusing at all.
The other other two members of SSSN, Scarlet David and Sage Ayana, could not be with them at the time, having apparently opted to 'accessorise' their dorm to liven it up a little. The Elf saw little point in such an act, seeing as how the exchange students were only staying for the whole Summer and part of the Autumn semesters, but why should he be bothered with what Team SSSN did?
Faen recalled Sun to be the very same monkey Faunus who had helped Blake and Ruby stop that Dust heist down at Vale, and he seemed to be decent enough. He was also friendly, appearing not at all taken aback by the Demi-Human traits of FFOG, not even Grey's nature as a Werewolf, something Faen found quite endearing. Neptune was a similar enough case in Faen's eyes, although, he did question how the Human was able to make some sort of sparkle effect with his teeth when he smiled during their initial introduction. The blue-haired Human was probably using his Aura to do it, or at least something along those lines.
They were, Faen had to admit, fairly decent company at the recently repaired Academy cafeteria, though, Faen treated them in the same way he treated all others he had just met. Acting reserved, speaking little when spoken to, and keeping a somewhat cold expression fixed on his face. It did nothing to dissuade Sun and Neptune from trying to strike up a conversation with him, but they quickly got the idea he was not going to be the most welcoming person at the table, and returned their attention to the others soon after.
On the other hand, his team had a ball of a time with Sun and Neptune, and seemed to have found another team they could interact fairly well with. Grey and Sun got on like a house on fire, and even their compared muscles at the dinner table. Friesian and Neptune, well, Faen was not sure what happened between those two, but they appeared to 'operate on the same wavelength' as Friesian himself would later say. Gods only know what in the hell Faen's teammate was talking about. Odori, while she did not bond with the Faunus and Human at the same level as Grey and Friesian were able to, she conversed with them far easier than Faen did.
After dinner ended, the teams split up to attend whatever personal matters they had going on. For Team Team FFOG, that meant sitting around a table and play Dark Paths.
More precisely, it was the members of Team FFOG and JNPR who were sat sat a round table that had been moved to the front of Professor Oobleck's lecture room. Said Professor was sat at his own desk close by, marking papers and closely watching them from where he was sat.
Beacon's History Teacher had been kind enough to let Friesian host this game of Dark Paths in his classroom, and was extremely glad to, for he was apparently an avid player of the game when he was younger. Learning that even a few of his students were getting into the game visibly brought joy to the Professor. Still, the Professor made it abundantly clear that this would not affect their grades whatsoever, and it was no excuse for Friesian to worm out of the detentions he got for not turning in his work in time.
Not everyone could be here, though, for some of them had other things to do than just sit around a table and play Friesian's role-playing game. Team RWBY were absent because they had some important 'team stuff' to sort out, probably something to do with a moping cat Faunus.
They did promise to play when they got a chance to some other day, but today was just not the right time. Honestly, Faen was sort of relieved RWBY was not to going to join them, for it would have been pretty hard to fit twelve people around the table Friesian and Oobleck had picked for their session. That was not even considering the sheer chaos that would envelope the room if they were gathered together.
All in all, he supposed Blake being, well, Blake was a sort of blessing in disguise.
It was not only Team RWBY who were not present for this session, but also Odori. In her words, she had to speak with Professor Greene, Beacon's teacher of Stealth and Security, about ways she could improve her capabilities in stealth. Considering Odori's Semblance, and how damn good she was at sneaking up on people without it, Faen saw few reasons why Odori would need or even want to spek to Professor Greene. He let her be, though, for self-improvement was a reasonable enough justification, or so a part of him believed anyway.
Back to what was going on in the History Classroom; Faen was sat with one arm resting on the table while his head rested on the hand of the other. The pounding in his head had long since gone, having finally ceased sometime during dinner. He, and those others who were meant present, were waiting for Friesian to put the finishing touches on the table. The Dullahan had been as busy as a bee for the past fifteen minutes, and was positively beaming for the entirety of that time.
He was really, really excited to play Dark Paths.
"So, um, is this everyone else's first time playing this... game?" Pyrrha uncertainly asked a bit nervously from where she was sat.
"I've played games kind of like it. My... uh, my sisters often made me play with them when they saw I was lonely at times. They, they were fun, and I'm sure this will be, too. Right?" Jaune confessed before looking to Friesian for an answer.
"Sure it is!" Friesian confidently answered as he tweaked the position of his Pathmaster Screen, which obscured the Dullahan's part of the table from view. It was then that Friesian's body began to gleefully rub its hands together, while his head, which was resting on a few books behind the screen, had this to declare. "Alright, we're all set. I already gave you all a quick run-down of the rules, but if you need reminding, I'll tell you. Before we begin I just want to ask you, from the bottom of my heart, that you all do not become a bunch of murder hobos. Please don't, it's not cool and no fun at all."
Faen raised an eyebrow at the mention of 'murder hobos,' and looked over to Grey who absently shrugged her shoulders. No one else seemed to get what the Dullahan meant, apart from Doctor Oobleck who shivered at the words, so they just rolled with it and let Friesian start.
Taking his seat with the same gusto he expressed when preparing this whole thing, Friesian's body rolled its shoulders, his head coughed a couple times and then began to speak.
"It is the year 1507 of the Fifth Celestial Era, and it is a troubled time for the people of the once prosperous land of Silvervale. The Wildlings of the Hanging Forest are rising up against the Grand Lords of Silvervale, and are attacking anyone they come across, be they lowly peasant or highborn noble. Resurgence in the activity of cults devoted to the Dread Gods has been noted by the Grand Lords and Temple authorities; with both doing all they can to stamp out these cults. Worst of all, rumours from the southern marches speak of a restless evil coming from the dread realm of Wyrm's Fall, whispering of long-forgotten monsters and other evils that make men whimper in their sleep."
"It is during this time of tribulations, that the reigning lord of Oestefort and one of the Grand Lords of Silvervale, Lord Passerino Gorrion, puts out a call for adventurers all across Silvervale for a very special quest that will see any adventurer bold enough to take it richly rewarded. Hearing this call, adventurers from far and wide journey to fort in pursuit of riches, glory, power, and what other treasures they might seek."
While Friesian recited the background of the game's setting, Faen looked down at his character sheet and went over what he had put down. In it, he had written that he was a Dusk Aelf Fighter who followed the Lancer Discipline, Aelves being the in-game version of Elves, though they had a rather fantastical twist to them. The most notable being their incredible longevity and a natural affinity for Magic. As a Fighter, his character was proficient with every armour and weapon type, though his Discipline added a bonus in his proficiency with plate armour and polearm weapons, among other benefits.
He had spent the better part of half an hour with Friesian sorting out all the information of the sheet, which included stuff like his character's back-story, what his race was, and what class his character was. Faen was legitimately interested in where the Dullahan took not just the story of Faen's character, but the overall campaign as well.
Turning back to what Friesian was saying, the Dullahan was done describing the setting of the world they were in, and where their adventure would begin, and appeared ready to actually start this whole thing.
"Now, passing through the gilded gates of Oestefort's citadel, three newly arrived adventurers are led inside by finely dressed servants who greet them warmly, but wrinkle their noses at their dirty appearance. Now, Jaune, Pyrrha, Grey, I want you guys to describe your characters."
"Woo! Finally," Grey cheered as she excitedly beat her fist into the air. She then turned to Jaune and Pyrrha, and asked them a question. "You want to go first?"
"Uh, sure, I guess I'll start things off," Jaune replied to Grey. "My character, Aymeric Felix, is a Human Fighter with this wearing leather travelling gear over a shirt of chainmail and-"
What came next was nearly a minute of Jaune describing his character's appearance, followed after by Grey, the Pyrrha. From the descriptions of their characters alone and the way the spoke of them, Faen took a guess at the type of people his fellow players had created. Jaune made his sound much like the typical morally upright, loud, and annoyingly confident Paladin who could do no wrong. Grey's character, a Nymph Ranger named Runa, was likely someone who had never taken a bath before, and had no intention of taking one. Pyrrha made a character Half-Aelf named Phaenna, whose class was a Cleric, and her description evoked the image of a rather stunning person in his head.
That was all just guess work, and Faen could very well be wrong in his assumptions. In fact, he was indeed kind of wrong once the three initiated some in-game dialogue, and described some of the actions their characters performed.
Jaune, or Aymeric as Faen supposed he should be saying, still possessed some of the traits of most Paladins, but he operated under an alias for the sake of secrecy. A very unexpected twist, in Faen's opinion at least. What was more unexpected was how bad the alias Jaune had chosen, it being the 'PaladMan'. Really, it had taken all of Faen's will to not join Grey and Nora as they laughed at how ridiculous it sounded.
Runa was almost exactly what he thought Grey would make her, even down to how the Ranger had never once bathed in her life. Her character was also a bit of an intellectual, actually, but was just as care-free as Faen imagined. Faen would not be surprised if Grey made her character do some mischievous stuff for the sake of laughs.
Pyrrha's character, Phaenna, actually surprised him the most. Contrary to his beliefs, Phaenaa was made out to be a plain and unremarkable, average if Faen had to go that far in his description. Very surprising, but to each their own he guessed.
After describing their characters, Friesian led the three through the citadel and let them ask questions and do things on their way to Lord Gorrion. While Aymeric and Phaenna did the more serious things, such as quickly scan the citadel as they walked through its stone halls for anything that might be amiss, Runa did what Faen had suspected Grey would make her do. For one, she 'accidentally' toppled over a suit of armour onto the servant leading the trio, and then she snatched his coin-purse while the others were helping him up.
"What in the hell is your character's alignment?" Faen whispered to Grey's ear, as the table focused on a conversation Aymeric and a NPC voiced by Friesian were having. He had a good idea of what Grey's was, but he wanted to hear it from her own lips.
"Heheheh, Chaotic Neutral," Grey whispered back to him. Of course she would choose to be a chaotic character, what else would she want to be in this kind of game? "I told you what mine is, you gotta tell me yours."
Supposing that it was only fair that he share it with Grey, Faen revealed to her what moral alignment his own character.
"Lawful Evil," he whispered to the Werewolf, taking care to speak low enough that the others could not hear him. That surprised Grey, but she appeared alright with it.
"My, my, that's new of you. Does the rest of the party need to have eyes on the back of their heads in case you try to backstab us?" Faen narrowed his eyes at Grey, not at all amused by the suggestion she just made. He was Lawful Evil, yes, but he would not make his character that evil. Grey seemed to pick up on this mood, and was quick in trying to calm him. "I'm kidding Faen, no need to worry your pointy-eared head about it."
Yes, obviously she was kidding, it was what his best friend did. That idea of betraying the rest of the party latched onto his mind like a leech, however, and the Elf found himself contemplating the idea as something he could do later on during the campaign, if this whole thing proved interesting enough that is. Maybe he should go ahead and betray the party sometime, or at least screw with them in a manner that was disadvantageous for his fellow players, but greatly benefitted him. The point of this whole thing was to have fun, and who knows, perhaps doing just that might prove to be just that if he did it right.
Back to the session, Friesian finally took them to a large hall where the adventurers were to meet Lord Gorrion, and where they also met Ren and Nora's characters.
As with the case of Grey and Jaune's characters, those made by Ren and Nora were similar to how he expected them to be. Ren's, a Tiefling Mage called Guiying Jing, was a fairly quiet and much calmer person when compared to the others in the session, and came across as wiser as well. Fitting really, since he had the highest Wisdom points in the party.
Nora's character, well, how else could he describe her other than being a near copy of Nora herself? Skadi, a Half-Giant Barbarian, could be summed up as hyperactive, enthusiastic, and, as stated before, Nora. Now that he thought of it, the whole lot of them had more or less copy-and-pasted themselves into this game, or at least most of them had anyway. It was not a bad thing, just an observation he made.
"Looking around, you see you are in this rather grandiose hall covered in various hunting trophies, and the coat-of-arms that belonged to past rulers of Oestefort. As you're all looking around, you see this figure just standing over to the side. He looks a lot less ragged when compared to the majority of other adventurers in the hall, and he's holding this 2.1 metre (7 feet) tall spear in one hand." Friesian then turned to face him, the Elf already knowing what his teammate was about to say. "Faen, it's now your turn to describe your character."
All eyes were now on him, and not all of them were as friendly as Grey and Friesian. He could actually feel the mildly resentful glares from Nora, Pyrrha, and Ren.
Yes, his treatment of Jaune before he finally proved himself in that test he had partaken in had not gone without repercussions. For one, while Jaune had been willing to bear his spite and forgave him, the others in JNPR found it less easy to do so, and held it against Faen. Not only that, they were also under the impression he had to apologise for how he acted prior the test. Did he care at all for what the Humans thought of his behaviour towards Jaune?
No, not even the slightest.
As far as Faen was concerned, he was justified and there was no way in hell anyone could convince him otherwise. All that aside, the Elf returned his attention to the game they were playing, and began to describe the character he had made.
"Alright then, my character... uh, he's... he's a Dusk Aelf wearing travelling gear made of beaten leather under a coat of steel scale-mail. Around his shoulders is a long blue hooded cloak embroidered with silver. He has very pale skin and long dark hair that falls down to his elbows. His right hand is holding the wooden haft of a spear, which has this red ribbon wrapped around the area beneath the steel speartip. His name is... Gwather"
Yes, this was his character. Faen could have made him look flashier, colourful, sounded more excited while describing him, or been more imaginative when he created his character's appearance in general, but the Elf saw little point in doing so. He had a character, one he made up for this odd game, and that was all that ultimately mattered.
Having described his character to the others, the thing he had to do now was gauge how they reacted to it, and, depending on their reactions, figure out ways to punish them later on if they decided to bad-mouth him.
"I slide next to him and say, 'Heya there! What's your name?'" Grey immediately spoke up, bumping her shoulder against his as she did. This prompted Faen to sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose at her. Well, if they were going to do this, he may as well play along.
"Gwather just gives her a dirty look and takes three steps away from her," he said, giving Grey the selfsame look he had just described.
"I follow after him and poke his cheek," his best friend quickly followed, cheekily going so far as to actually poke him in real-life. Irritated by Grey's impudent actions meant to annoy him, Faen thought off ways to get back at her, and found one that appealed to him while still playing the game. The Elf was well aware she was doing this all for a joke, but he really did want to stab something right now, and this was the next best thing to actually doing it.
"I grab my spear with both hands and try to stab Runa with it!" He said, jabbing his hand at Grey's side as he spoke.
A rough start to what would be an adventuring party, but all assembled groups of people started that way or something alike to it. Of course, not all groups have a member who tries to stab another, or so he hoped anyway, but Faen believed his point was valid enough.
"Okay, well, you guys will have to roll a hit check for that," Friesian said as his body scratched the top of his head at his teammates' decisions.
Unfortunately for Faen he rolled a six against Grey's fifteen, meaning his character's attack on Grey's completely missed. In hindsight, him missing his attack was actually a good thing, for it would have been most detrimental for the party if they got into a fight later on with one party member a few hit points short. Still, vengeance would be his, and Faen would get back at Grey for what she had done. Trivial though it may all be.
What followed after his little scuffle with Grey was a considerable amount of filler in Faen's opinion and nothing that drove their Campaign's plot forward. Sure there was plenty of interactions where the party laid down their possible backstories, and some interaction with NPCs, yet, it was ultimately nothing worth going into too much detail on. It was as Nora and Ren were finishing up an in-game conversation, one regarding the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow, that a knocking noise came from the classroom's door.
Professor Oobleck, who had been silently watching them as he graded some papers, was at the door in a flash and opened it just as quickly. The person who was stood at the doorway was Professor Taupe, and if Faen had to be honest, he was thankful that it was her who had knocked. If it had been someone else, another Beacon student for example, there was no telling how he or they could have reacted to seeing them all playing Dark Paths.
"Why good evening, Kallisto! To what do I have the pleasure of you knocking on my door at this time?" Oobleck questioned his colleague in his usual rapid manner of speech, which had taken a great deal of getting used to when classes began.
"Hey, Bartholemew, you got the results for Class-" The Gorgon stopped after taking two steps into the classroom when she saw the students sat around the table, gods only know what she was thinking right now. A very awkward silence hung over the classroom as Taupe took in the sight of what Faen and the other students were doing, while also looking over to Professor Oobleck, who patiently stood there as though nothing were amiss. After what may have been five seconds spent taking in what was going on in the classroom, Taupe slowly turned her attention back to Professor Oobleck and began to say, "Professor-"
"Doctor! We have been working together for five years; must I remind you of that again?" Oobleck abruptly interrupted her, a severe and very annoyed tone in his voice.
Silently, the students exchanged looks with each other after hearing Doctor Oobleck reprimand Professor Taupe. All of them had been on the receiving end of his insistent reminding of having a Doctorate in History. To see someone such as the famed Kallisto Taupe be subject to it was oddly amusing in its own way, though it would be for the best that he never voice such an opinion in the Gorgon's presence for the sake of his personal health.
"Fine, Doctor," Taupe sighed while also rolling her eyes at him; "do you have those test results from Class 3A? They need to be marked by tomorrow."
"Of course," the green-haired professor replied to her. Doctor Oobleck then zipped right back to his desk, picked up a stack of papers that had been laying on it, and was back in front of Taupe in the blink of an eye. "Here you are."
Taupe quietly accepted the papers, completely unfazed by the speed her colleague had moved, and headed back through the classroom's door. Before she left, however, the Gorgon looked back towards the students and eyed them all curiously. He did not know if it was just his imagination, but Faen could have sworn he saw Taupe's gaze linger on him for two seconds prior to turning her head away from them and passing through the doorway, quietly closing the door behind her once she was out. It probably was just him, for what reason could someone such as her focus on him out of all the people in this room?
Sure she seemed to have taken an interest in him, for she had been repeatedly asking question regarding his future plans in all the counselling lessons, while she had not even mentioned that subject to anyone else who went to her sessions. Still, he doubted that such interest would amount to anything, and that the Gorgon was simply concerned for him or whatever. Any teacher worth their salt should be concerned for their students' future, especially if they were teaching the next generation of Huntsmen, so her interest surely did not make him special when compared to his peers.
Still, the prospect of being the focus of Professor Taupe's attention parked something in Faen that he could not place. Oh well, back to playing Dark Paths, he supposed.
"Carry on with your session, students," Oobleck signalled to them as he zipped right back to his desk and continued to sort the papers on it.
"Alright, so is there anything else you guys want to do?" Receiving no reply from anyone, Friesian carried on speaking. "Okay then. As you are all 'mingling' with the rest of the adventurers present, the doors at the other side of the hall finally open, and this man dressed in ostensive clothes made of the finest materials money can buy with a cloak made of dark velvet comes in to join you all. He's a man in his mid-forties, with long greying brown hair, and he has this pointed goatee. None of you except Gwather have met him before, but you all know this man to be Lord Gorrion, the ruler of Oestefort."
So, their characters were finally meeting this 'Lord Gorrion', and there was little doubt in Faen's mind that something big was going to go down soon after. The already excited glint in Friesian's eyes had grown even more.
"'Welcome, welcome! I, Lord Gorrion, bid you all welcome to my abode and wish the warmest of greetings to you all!'" Friesian boomed in a voice meant to sound gravelly and slightly aged. After going on a brief tangent where he explained a few details about the lord and a few other pleasantries, Friesian moved on to more interesting matters. "'I will be frank with you all, this quest I am asking you all to participate in shall be perilous, and there shall be no shortage of ways you may die in it. However, perilous though this quest may be, you shall be adequately rewarded for all the trouble that shall befall you. The reward for it shall be a thousand gold pieces to all those willing and stalwart enough to take up this quest for me."
"A thousand gold pieces?" Faen whispered, stunned by the sum that this lord was willing to pay. He was not the only one, as everyone else sat at the table reacted in the same way as he had. Even Doctor Oobleck seemed intrigued by what Friesian had announced.
"'A week ago, several Wildlings from the Hanging Forest raided a caravan bound for Oestefort. The mongrels slew all, and made off with a prize most dear to me. I am asking you to venture into the Hanging Forest, retrieve my prize, and return it to me.'"
Now they all knew what Lord Gorrion wanted of them, and quite the dubious request it was. Naturally, Faen began to shift through all kinds of ideas for why this Lord Gorrion was willing to pay adventurers a thousand gold pieces for some trinket stolen by some barbarians.
The idea of Gorrion's 'prize' being some mundane object such as jewellery and other such items passed his mind, but was quickly dismissed, for nothing Faen could think of could be worth that much. A family member was a more likely possibility, yet, the vagueness in which Friesian had made Gorrion speak of this 'prize' had him doubting that as well. One more idea that ran through Faen's mind was that he sought an artifact of religious or magical properties, for if he knew anything about these fantasy worlds people invented, they were chalk full of the stuff and people were willing to pay a pretty sum of coin to get ahold of them.
By the Gods, he was actually getting so invested in this game; he was speculating a fictional character's motivation for hiring his own fictional character. It was... weird, and oddly exciting.
Maybe there was fun to be derived from this game.
After Friesian had Gorrion explain this quest to Faen and the other players, he had most of the other adventurers vacate from the hall. Their fear of venturing into the territory of these savage Wildings forcing them to turn down the substantial reward the lord was willing to pay for their services. All that remained were the players, and a dozen other nameless adventurers, who Faen thought were bound to die soon if they went on this quest.
What Faen expected to happen next was he and the other adventurers have a lengthy chat with Gorrion about this quest he was sending them on. They all had questions that needed answering and Faen wanted a better image of the Lord of Oestefort's character. Friesian had plans of his own, however.
"Now... I want you all to roll an Initiative check," Friesian deviously smirked at them all as he spoke.
That immediately caught everyone's attention, and Faen had to go over his little notebook to find which die he was meant to use, and what it was Friesian was asking of them. What he found had him raising a brow and looking at the Dullahan curiously, for, according to the short notes he had taken on how to play this game, Initiative determined the 'order of battle'. Meaning the roll they were supposed to take now would decide who and when combatants could take a turn.
'So, we will be fighting some, will we? Should be interesting, or I hope it will be,' Faen thought to himself as he picked up one of the twenty-sided dice Oobleck had loaned to them, and rolled it on his space of the table. The others either remembered or figured it out on their own, and started to roll their dice.
"We're going to be fighting something now?" Grey questioned as she frowned at the 3 she had rolled.
"It would seem so," Ren's voice calmly replied in answer to Grey's question as he rolled a natural twenty. Lucky him.
"About time, I say!" Nora said as she took one of the twenty-sided die and rolled it on her side of the table, it immediately landing on a 10.
Fascinated though he might be at the idea of roleplaying a fight, never had Faen thought such a thing would ever happen; there was something he wished to know. They had spent the greater part of thirty-seven minutes getting to this particular point in their session, and he wanted to know when they would be finishing. The Elf had no particular plans for the night, apart from reading a chapter of 'The Red Prince' before bed, but he felt compelled to ask either way.
"Before we begin, Friesian, would you mind telling us how long we'll be doing this?" Faen's question had grabbed the attention of the others at the table, and they too faced Friesian, patiently waiting for what he had to say in response.
"Huh? Oh yeah, I kinda forgot to tell you guys," the Dullahan replied. Looking up from the table and towards the clock that hung on the wall behind Doctor Oobleck, he checked the time, and appeared to make a quick calculation before his head turned back to Faen and gave an answer. "We're gonna keep going until 9pm, guys."
They would keep playing until nine? They had started at seven o'clock, and they were meant to play for another hour and twenty-four minutes?
Looking to the others, Faen saw that news had also caught them off-guard, but their specific reactions to it varied differently from one another. In Jaune's case, he appeared to have anticipated the length of their session, and was rather fine with it in all honesty. Nora reached into her bag and pulled out some snacks and drinks, having apparently come prepared for this eventually, though how she could possibly know Faen could only guess at. Pyrrha was looking around like he was, checking out how the others reacted, probably unsure what to make of it like he did. Ren, well, he accepted the news, and reached into and pulled out some crisps from a bag Nora was offering to him.
Next to Faen, Grey was biting her lip with a thoughtful glint in her eyes. She was likely thinking of whether or not she could stay for that long, for she may have some things to do later.
In the end, it appeared the lot of them would be staying for the duration of time Friesian had stated this session would last, though it would have been far more convenient if he told them beforehand. While they were getting ready for this 'fight', the Dullahan created a makeshift diorama on the table with some school supplies, with some other easily obtainable items placed to represent the party and the NPCs. Honestly, the diorama looked as cheap as it really was, but Faen could give his teammate credit for trying.
As the 'fight' began, Faen wondered where Odori was right now. Hopefully she was having fun right now.
Meanwhile, in the woods some distance from the main building complex of Beacon, a squirrel was minding its own business and doing what all squirrels would in this time of year. Searching through their habitats for some food.
It was later than when the creature would normally go off foraging for food, so the squirrel was being even more wary of predators that might seek to make a meal out of the bushy-tailed animal as it searched the woodland area it called home.
After a good bit of searching, this little critter in particular struck gold and found some berries that had fallen onto the ground, which it promptly began to devour in quick succession. As it ate, the squirrel's eyes darted here and there, and its ears perked this way and that, thankfully there was no sign of any threats approaching it. Regardless, it was ready to dart up the nearest tree if it detected anything shifty coming near.
Munching on its second berry, the squirrel suddenly bolted upright and made ready to run when it thought it had heard the sound of a foot stepping on grass and fallen leaves not far away from where it was. Turning its eyes over towards the source of the noise, the woodland creature saw there was nothing to be seen, but remained vigilant and still for several tense seconds. Five seconds past. Ten seconds past. Fifteen seconds passed, and still there was nothing anywhere near the squirrel.
Sure it was alone, and that what it had heard was nothing more than a branch falling from a tree, the squirrel resumed eating the berries that it had found lying on the floor.
As it picked up the fourth berry, a tall shadow suddenly fell over it, and a grasping hand flew straight for the squirrel's neck from out of seemingly nowhere. The hand was on the little creature before it could drop the berry it had been eating and run for the nearest tree. Caught completely by surprise, the squirrel squealed in terror as it was forcefully lifted from the ground and made to face its assailant, its black orbs meeting crimson-coloured eyes that gazed intensely at the squirrel's squirming form.
The small creature struggled against its attacker's ever tightening grip, its tiny paws desperately scratching at their hands as its airway and neck was slowly being crushed. Whilst that happened, those crimson eyes fixatedly watched the squirrel flail around in their grasp, absorbing everything from its frantic squeaks to the wild, terrified look in its eyes. Feeling this alone was not good enough; the assailant took hold of one of the squirrel's paws and violently twisted it, causing the tiny creature to generate even more pain filled screeches in response to what was being done to it. Smiling gleefully, the squirrel's attacker proceeded to do the same to each of the creature's other limbs, dislocating one of its arms and legs as they did so.
After a full minute spent struggling for its life, and suffering for its attacker's amusement, the squirrel's eyes glossed over and its body went limp in their hands. Seeing that the squirrel was quite likely dead, the attacker held it upside down by its bushy tail, and examined its unmoving form. It would not be the first time an animal had played dead while in their grasp, and she wanted that first time to be the last.
The 'normal' round ears at the sides of her head, and the tall, pointed fox-ears on top, listened closely for any breathing sounds coming from the squirrel's mouth and nose. Close-set eyes with crimson irises watched for whether the creature's chest was rising and falling. Five, bushy, black tails swayed from side-to-side as this person carefully waited for a reaction from their prey.
Deciding the squirrel had indeed perished after spending twenty seconds examining the creature's limp corpse, they unceremoniously dropped it onto the floor before nonchalantly walking away from it. Leaving the woods to claim the squirrel's body, or whatever creature that might find a interest in it. The animal was dead now, so it no longer held any value to its killer, and they did not care for what would happen to it once they had departed from these woods.
Sauntering through the trees, while also cleaning her hands with a cleaning wipe they always kept on hand, the crimson-eyed killer made a bee-line back towards Beacon Academy. It was getting late, and their team must be missing them by now.
There we go, another chapter done.
The Dark Paths segment was supposed to be longer, but I cut it short so it did not feel as though I was dragging it out.
Halvard Bergson: 'Halvard' comes from the Old Norse name Hallvarðr, which means 'stone guardian'. 'Bergson' is a mix of 'berg' meaning mountain in Swedish, and the meaning of 'son' should be pretty self explanatory.
A Guide to Demi-Humans by David Silver
Dwarves: Proud, traditional, and more than capable of drinking most people under the table, the Dwarves were an interesting race to research. On average, their race is half the height of a fully grown human, possess stocky builds, with a naturally heightened sense of sight and smell. As with the Elves, the Dwarves trust had to be won before I could spend an adequate enough time to learn of their culture and society. Once I had proven myself worthy of their trust and time, I was able to learn a great deal, and earned life-long friends among the Dwarves I researched.
A very peculiar trait of the Dwarves is an almost universal desire to remember every wrong done to their themselves and their race as a whole. Ingrained not only in their society, but seemingly their very psyche itself, all Dwarves will feel a compulsive need to enact some sort of retribution on any who have or are related to someone who has wronged them or their ancestors. The exact causes of this need are, as of the time of this writing, unknown.
