The Dreamer Gate

by Malignent

Thousands of Uruk-Hai are drawn to Remnant after a ritual gone wrong, and are more than capable of bringing their own taste of war to this new world. Now the people of Remnant must deal with this new and numerous threat. As the Tournament draws near, and the actions of the Uruk Leaders grows ever bolder, can peace truly be maintained?

14. Chapter 14: The Poet

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

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

---

The Poet

And that's why you shouldn't kill us~

Why we're useful in the end~

That's why you shouldn't kill us~

our new master and friend~!

Ogthrak bobbed his head to the music, his forehead sweating despite how sure he was of the duo's performance. This was it, he'd been entrusted to unlock their full potential and goddamn it if he didn't pull it straight up from their guts.

Zog and Borgu had absolutely nailed their performance from the first second, dancing and singing before the Grand Shaman like the good little Jesters they were. The Storm Guards posted near the walls couldn't help but eventually join in, as Borgu's beats were just too enticing. Some managed to resist more than others, but soon enough the Master had a proper gang of musical entertainment all to himself. If Ogthrak were perfectly honest, this had actually gone better than anticipated.

His master had always enjoyed his music, most forms of it actually, so much so that Ogthrak had been perfectly prepared when he requested people keep an eye out for his favorite wordsmith. Borgu had been on Ogthrak's mind since before the initial Dreamer Gate Incident, someone of that much value to his master could not be allowed to run a muck and endanger themselves when they could be providing proper entertainment.

So when Maku finally brought in not just the target but another Uruk with a similar fondness for music, the Warmonger had been fully prepared to take advantage. He already had a system in place for when he needed to change work structures on the fly, it was the only way to keep track with his Master's requests. Leaving the globs training under him in the hands of the most capable one amongst them, he had immediately set about getting the two performers in tip top shape for when they were to be presented.

Given the amount of time he had, he needed to be harsh. Zog and Borgu were both chiefless before being brought to him, with unruly behaviors and unsavory practices laced in their blood. He didn't need them to stop being the malcontents they were, as that was one of the things the master seemed to enjoy in Uruks like them, he merely needed to force out their potential in spite of that. Depending on who was asked, this could either mean he was going easy on them or being harsher.

But neither had complaints when the sheer range of their Semblances had been discovered. The power of Vocals and Music had initially confused the Warmonger, as he'd initially made the assumption that these powers were only deigned to aid their users in combat, but in time he came to understand that method of utilization came into play more than he originally anticipated. It wouldn't get in the way of today's performance, and that was all he needed to focus on.

The conclusion was nearing, Ogthrak weaved through the Master's dancing guards towards the singer and the poet as they both reached a spinning crescendo. Finally the song came to a proper, satisfying end as the two gestured towards the Grand Shaman with flair. Sat in a hastily carved stone and metal throne set up deep in the caves they worked within, the Stormbringer had casually clapped to the beat of the duo throughout most of their song, and offered them a small yet meaningful applause once they had finished.

This made Ogthrak worry as he approached, the Grand Shaman had been so insistent on utilizing their musical talent and he'd trained them both harshly. The Warmonger swallowed down his sudden nerves as Borgu and Zog both caught their breaths, the guards who had once been dancing were rubbing at their heads and staring confusedly at each other now that the music had died down a bit.

"As you can see, they've both become adept at using their semblances together." Ogthrak stated as he approached his master and gestured back to the Guards "And I do believe the results speak for themselves. With both this and the proper Grog we've begun producing, I don't believe there'll be any Uruk who could resist joining the cause."

The Grand Shaman tilted his head at that, a bit of blue showing beneath his all encompassing robe. He stared silently at Ogthrak and the performers for a moment before raising a hand towards them.

"Is that...it?"

Almost immediately Ogthrak's black heart began to pound faster, the Warmonger's eyes going wide as he had to stop himself from flinching back, "Master?"

"Its just... we already have... so much to want." Pugrish muttered as he slowly rose from his throne and looked to Borgu and Zog "These two... would be overkill."

Ogthrak choked down the panic as he saw the already dim colors of the bland cave walls around them begin to fade away to a dismal white "But sir, you wanted them so badly I-... I trained them as best I could."

"Oh you trained them well... but what you assume they were to be used for... its far too mundane..." The Grand Shaman continued walking by as the Guards began losing all color as well, eventually falling to ashes as the Stormbringer passed by them "Crafting entertainment for the soldiers within our ranks... is easy... what with all we've managed to acquire..."

Ogthrak moved to follow, but treaded carefully in the shadow the Shaman cast upon the now blank walls around him. But he came to a sudden halt once Pugrish paused to turn back to him, a glint of a smile partially visible within his hood.

"But forging them... into entertainment for tarks..." The Stormbringer offered as the two entertainers began fading to ashes at Ogthrak's sides "Now doesn't that seem... like a far more interesting challenge?"

The Warmonger immediately fell to a kneel "Forgive me my lack of creativity master! Its just... Keeping track of both them and and following the Arceus' movements and the Fang and... those damned Blue Scarves I-"

He paused as the edge of the Shaman's robe entered his vision "Awe... is it too hard for you?" the Shaman's tone sounded odd... off in ways Ogthrak didn't have the time to question.

"No master!" the Warmonger insisted as he looked up into the Shaman's hood, disregarding the crumbling blank cave which revealed the pitch black abyss beyond "I can do it! I shall not shame myself in your presence again! I- I will make them the most entertaining thing those filthy pinkskins have ever-!"

The Stormbringer's hand shot forward and buried several fingers into the larger Uruk's neck before hauling him off the ground.

The Shaman's hood fell as he held Ogthrak above him, revealing a sharp-toothed smile followed by dozens of others which crossed over an excessively deformed lump of meat that constituted a head.

"M-master!?" Ogthrak shoked out even as he felt sharp claws digging into the meat of his throat, he gasped out some blood before latching onto the impostor's arm.

"Just admit it!" the Impostor choked out in a blasphemous imitation of Pugrish's voice as the hundreds of gleaming smiles on its head began laughing violently while the Uruk trapped in its grasp struggled "You'll never pass for anything other than a Bore! Such a simple and stagnant creature!"

While struggling in its grasp, Ogthrak could see the color draining from his own hands as they clawed at the Impostor's, drawing only more mocking laughter from hundreds of voices.

"Ya can't keep up!" the Main voice laughed in that damned imitation "You'll always be a worthless pretender in my eyes! Purposeless and boring... a waste of functioning organs..."

The Impostor finally released Ogthrak, allowing the Warmonger to slip off his claw as the Uruk fell to ashes along with the rest...

...only for him to slam his head on a drawer behind him before he collapsed to the floor.

His eyes shot open as he hands felt the usual bare floor of his office carpet. He slowly blinked before bringing his heavy gaze beside him to find his chair, semi soaked by spilled alcohol.

Ah, exhaustion seemed to get him again.

Grumbling, Ogthrak pulled himself up, fixing the excessive amount of hair he was wearing back into place as he evaluated the damage. The chair seemed to have soaked up quite a bit, it would stain no matter what he did. Turning to his desk, he sighed with relief when he saw that only his glass had tipped. His computer and the rest off the Desk's contents were untouched. He could feel a bit of wetness on his lower pant leg, so he'd have to get that tended to.

Sighing, he picked up his chair and set it properly before grabbing for the still open bottle on his desk. No matter how ratty and tattered those under his employment could look, he himself had to retain an air of professionalism.

After several heavy swigs, the disguised Uruk noticed that music was still playing. He could hear it pounding at the single window he had overlooking the club floor. Seems they were still broadcasting for the day.

Curious, Ogthrak reached for his computer and tapped at several keys.

Soon, he was back at the documents he had been going over before he'd succumbed to sleep. He'd managed to finish typing up papers for the night, but the ones he needed evaluated could wait till morning when he was more certain of his aptitude. Bringing up another program, he viewed several camera feeds showing the Club. There were the usual which the many fans of his programs could view during the streams, but Ogthrak was not one to pass up extra security on an operation this risky.

Flipping through several more private feeds, he eventually stopped when he came to the front entrance. Standing at the entrance was none other than that Faunus weakling nervously fiddling with her clothes as two figures approached.

That was right, the Twins...

Ogthrak sighed as he raised his bottle again.

---

"Y-you came back?" Bebe said as she spotted Melanie and Militia approaching.

"Against better judgment, yes." Melanie sighed before glaring at her sister, who was looking herself over with a glum expression.

"Why the hell did we need to pick out shit like this?" the red themed Youth grumbled as she picked at the sleeve of her new digs "Our old costumes were way hotter."

The twins had been contacted since their last arrival, they were tasked with picking get ups from a specific list of match ups that Mr. Bigsby had sent them, and had only been allowed to get them from thrift stores. Militia had initially been mortified, as she'd been keeping her old dress ready just in case they ever got recruited again, but had hunkered down after her sister demanded she rethink their involvement.

As such the Twins were now dressed in semi used casual wear, which they'd only barely managed to get in their proper colors. But as sisters, they had more than enough familiarity with coordinated clothing to make due. Thin jackets over t-shirts with skirts, that was it. The hardest part were their weapons, which had matched their Gothic Lolita dresses perfectly but just seemed odd matched with these get-ups. Those would definitely need remodeling if they were expected to keep showing up like this.

"Screw the clothes, I want to know why he gave us three days to get ready." Melanie grumbled as Bebe opened the front doors and led them in "If we're supposed to be guarding those two assholes then why not have us on the clock immediately?"

"Maybe he just wants us to be thorough with our clothing," Militia shrugged as the doors closed behind them "we get to be eye candy for a much larger audience after all."

"If that was the focus then why the hell did he explicitly tell us to go casual?"

"Oh please, I can make a legion of idiots salivate over me in this."

Melanie rolled her eyes, preparing a snappy comeback when the Faunus girl piped up behind them "It'll probably have something to do with how he plans to keep you."

The duo paused and looked back at her as she caught up.

"Most of the people working here were desperate, either living on the streets or heading there quick. Didn't take much to recruit them, they get a bunch of free living conditions and get pacified by a crap ton of vices he's got just lying around here. But people like you two... he'd want some kind of leverage."

"The hell do you mean?" Melanie stepped closer "We already signed his stupid contract."

"So did I! I mean, he threatened to hand me over to one of his Uruk friends. The guy had a captive he feeds his other captives to! I thought I'd get away after I signed, but the next day I..."

Bebe fidgeted a bit under the glares of the twins, but eventually steeled herself before reach up and moving some of her brown hair out of the way. She turned just a bit to reveal a rather large set of stitches that ran along the back of her head "I woke up with this!"

"The fuck?" Melanie squinted at the wound as Militia walked over to get a closer look

"He must've put an explosive in my head! And if he thinks I'm about to run out on him then-!"

"Hold up hold up." Melanie held out both hands before narrowing her eyes at the faunus "So what you're telling me is that he not only performed a surgical process on you while you slept, but that he somehow managed to hook up a remote explosive somewhere in your brain while only leaving that tiny ass scar?"

Bebe blinked at her, before jerking away as Militia casually poked at the stitches "I asked him about it and he said it was 'Just in case!' He's gonna do something similar to you two!"

Melanie and Militia traded looks for a moment before they sighed simultaneously and continued walking. Bebe stared after them for a moment before scrambling to catch up "I'm serious, you two still have a chance to go before he gets a collar on you!"

"Collars are in right now sooo, meh." Militia shrugged as her sister folded her arms.

"I can buy that he acquired a mini explosive, hell I could even believe he'd found the tools and time for such an operation, but you damn well can't sit there and tell me that he's got the skills of a trained surgeon. Your brain would be a slushy if he ever went in there."

"Well what the hell else could it have been?!"

"Have you ever stopped and considered the possibility that he gave you the stitches and allowed your own fear to keep you locked to him? That maybe he just knew you'd never run out of fear of what he could've done instead of what he actually did?"

"Those two years of high school psychology coming back at an opportune time, eh Mel?" Militia smirked

"Barely, I flunked faster than you would've."

"Please, if I didn't have better things to do that class would've been my bitch and you know it."

"Can either of you focus on not getting explosives stuffed in your skulls?!" Bebe shouted

"Calm down mini-tits." Melanie came to a stop before a large set of double doors "Even if Mr. Bigsby is some kind of secret doctor, me and my sis aren't stupid enough to sleep anywhere near him."

"Depends on how loose his wallet is at the time." Militia commented before pushing the doors open

Melanie gave a deep sigh "Well, at least one of us isn't." she commented before following behind.

They entered the main room of the club, packed full of Masqueraders like the last time they were there. The gaggle of masked idiots were dancing as usual, slowly moving in time with a synthetic love song coming from the center of the dance floor.

Banz spoke several sweet rhymes of eternal love while Rolo's digitized music began dying down, the both of them fairing just as good in that style as any other. Somehow, despite its dilapidated state, the duo's romantic tones gave the club quite the cozy feel. So much so that some of the Masqueraders had even paired up for the specific themes of the song.

With a final, absolutely diabetes-inducing proclamation of love, the song came to an end, and Banz immediately groaned in his regular voice before turning towards a large window high up on one wall "Oi boss, that was the last one for the night right?"

While he waited for an answer, one of the Masqueraders leaned on his back while trying to chug down more alcohol "Aw, what's the fuckin rush big guy?" the inebriated dancer asked as he sloppily tried to fix his rabbit mask "Thought you and bad hair day over there got hard at the thought of making tunes?"

The Clown growled and shoved the drunkard away "Stuff it G.B., professionals like me need their down time else they end up burning up their abilities and turning into talent-less jokes like the rest of you."

"Hey, big guy!"

Banz groaned at the sound of a voice calling him out, and he and the rest of the Staff turned to spot the Twins watching them with passive gazes "Look ladies, as ready and willing as I am to plant my autograph on both of those racks, the work days over. I know ya must've gone through a whole lot of trouble breaking in and everything, but you can get ya complementary facials another time, Bansy needs his goddamn beauty rest."

"Real full of himself, isn't he?" Militia cooed

"Reminds me of someone." Melanie bit before calling out to them "We're not fans, we're you new bodyguards."

The drunk Bunny-masked dancer from before shoved another Masquerader out of the way to point at them "Excuse you, but we're the fuckin' bodyguards around here."

"You imbeciles were hired to keep my club safe."

All eyes went up to the single window, where an unimpressed looking Bigsby was standing with a microphone in hand, his voice echoing through the club's speakers "These two were hired to keep my performers under control."

"Bullshit, I don't need no goddamn bodyguards!" Bans yelled out before pointing at the twins "And certainly none looking like that! On the clock eye candy? Sure. But Bansy don't do bodyguards!"

"Your recent stunt at Penelope's says otherwise." Bigsby snapped "Don't take it the wrong way, I'm sure an egomaniac such as yourself would never get taken down easily. I'm having these two keep you and Rolo from going too far."

"Too far?! That entire ordeal was all his fault!" Bans pointed too a pleased looking Rolo "He goaded me! You know how easy it is to goad me!"

Rolo giggled at his partner's outburst before leaning forward on his odd turntables "Sir, I thought the whole reason for allowing me and my heavyset friend out occasionally was to garner attention?"

"Of the populace not government officials!" Bigsby groaned "Speak trash to nearby girls? Fine. Interrupt an entire establishment's workday just to land yourselves in a fiasco? Most definitely welcome. But getting involved with the heiress to one of the largest companies on the goddamn planet?!"

Bans raised a finger "How is that any different from that oil baron's daughter I tried hitting up yesterday?"

"Schnees are practically conjoined to Atlas's government. A government which, might a remind you, is currently stuffing this entire city to the brim with armed forces!" The Boss sighed before walking away from the window for a moment "But I suppose its my fault for trusting either of you to adapt in a necessary fashion. To be honest I really just needed those two girls in front of you to have something to do, and taking hold of your leashes just so happened to become a requisite in my eyes."

"Well I say we would've been enough!" The Rabbit masquerader shouted

"What Grimm Bunny said," another joined in "I ain't letting no hussies take my job! Its how I got fired from my last place and I'll be damned if history's bout to repeat!"

The others joined as the sound of Bigsby sighing made it through the microphone

"Sir? If I may offer a teensy bit of a suggestion?" Rolo spoke loud enough to quiet the growing mob "They make a good point, what use would the girls be if they weren't able to outclass an entire room of drunkards?"

"Oh goddamnit." Melanie bit as she immediately recognized his suggestion

"What?" her sister shrugged "He makes a fair point."

From above, polished off the rest of his bottle before moving back to his desk. Withe several swift taps he brought the main floor's cameras back online. The stream had already been ended for the day, but that didn't mean he couldn't continue making entertainment for their true viewer.

"I ain't letting no two bit, skirt-flapping, bored as fucking looking bitches snatch a gig as good as this from me!" G.B spat before downing more booze as another Masquerader slid from behind him.

"Yeah! We's gonna mess you up!"

"Isn't it strange that the first thing we have to do as employees is beat up our coworkers?" Melanie asked

"Strange and fun are often inseparable." Militia nudged her before letting her blades extend as the Masqueraders raced forth.

Her sister merely sighed before lunging forth under G.B.'s bottle and slamming into him from behind, sending him flailing into Militia's blades.

"Oh my," Rolo grinned as the twins laid into the Masqueraders "seems they actually got some moves to back them up, lololololol."

"Psh," Banz leaned against his booth with a grumble "anyone could take on a bunch of dumbass vagrants if they's drunk enough. How the hell is this fair!?"

"Perhaps we expected too little of them, hm?" his partner cooed

The Clown took hold of his messy Afro before shaking in anger for a moment, but suddenly getting idea.

As the Masqueraders got tossed about like ragdolls, the Clown suddenly hopped into his partner's odd-shaped booth. Rolo had to lean out of the way as Banz's mass nearly pressed him hard against his setup "What are you-?"

"Start playing damn it! I refuse to get told what to do by a couple o' children!"

Rolo blinked for a second before grinning "Aw, that would be rather entertaining... wouldn't it?"

The Twins had no problems with the Masqueraders, despite their numbers they were just far too sluggish to pose much of a threat against professional bodyguards like them. Most of them went down after several strikes, save for G.B. and one lady in a kitten mask. They still couldn't compare to the twins,. but their Auras were actually stronger than the dancers around them. Either way, Melanie and Militia didn't even have to fight too seriously-

-until the music started.

Techno pop spewed from the speakers set up around the room, making all the Masqueraders pause.

"Don't just stand there!"

They turned to see Banz shouting to them "Get back up and beat these bitches already!"

"Wouldn't music just be distracting for them?" Melanie asked before turning to her sister just to see a broken bottle speeding towards her.

She leaned back only for G.B. to press forth, forcing her to keep sliding back out of his high speed flurry of swings before finally spotting an opening and swing her leg towards him. The second she did, however, another Masquerader sped past the Rabbit-masked dancer and tackled her to the ground.

The second they landed, the Masquerader reared back to slam their skulls together, giving Melanie just the opportunity to punch her in the throat. As she shoved her off, a looming shadow prompted the white-themed youth to duck as another Masquerader swung a bar stool over her head. She buried the tip of her boot into his side and kicked him away as more of the Dancers approached.

What was this? It seemed as if the rest of the vagrants had suddenly gotten more aggressive and... and elaborate. As Melanie caught her breath, she scanned the approaching Masqueraders and realized that they were all bobbing and moving to the beat now emanating from the speakers.

Her attention shot towards the two entertainers, Rolo sped up the tunes just as G.B. sped to the front of the pack and swiped at her again.

As she dodged the sharp glass, she glanced over to find her sister in a similar bind. That kitten-masked assailant had gotten hold of a long piece of pipe and was now using it to twist and swing past Militia's slashes with near-perfect coordination.

"Shut off that damn music!" Melanie shouted as G.B. performed a rhythmically fluid flurry of slashes to the beat "Its making them... better somehow!"

"But sweet child, I'm merely playing some enjoyable tunes." Rolo defended before shrugging "Not my fault everything moves better with a little rhythm in them."

The white themed youth gritted her teeth as Grimm Bunny slipped back out of her reach once the song slowed down, only for three Masqueraders to take his place as the chorus started.

"Bigsby!" she shouted up towards the window above

"You're tasked with keeping these two under control." the Business Owner's clear tone reached her "It would be a shame if you couldn't perform."

Melanie held back a curse as she dove into the Masqueraders and knocked two of them away with a quick spin of the leg, the third managed to duck under and began swiping at her with a thick length of wood.

"Militia!" she called out to her sister whilst kicking her assailant in the back of the leg and promptly flooring him "We got to get rid of that music!"

But she found she found her sibling to be quite distracted by the sexually charged attack methods of the pole toting Masquerader.

"Mil!"

"Dear god," Militia commented as she swiped at the Masquerader, pausing to deflect several jabs of the pole "how did you learn to swing like that?"

"Stripped straight out of school." her assailant replied politely as she twirled about her pole to dodge and dance around Militia "Boyfriend and I needed drug money, thank you for asking!"

"Stop chatting and brain the bitch!" G.B. shouted before turning just to catch a heel to the face which sent him rolling away.

Melanie released a breath as she stood and shot her sister a glare "You. Me. Stopping the music. Now!"

"But sis, its like we're fighting in a music video!" Militia pointed out as she ducked under several swings to come up at her sister's side "Can't we take a minute to appreciate this flash choreography?"

She gestured around them to the dancers, only for Melanie to sigh "They're surrounding us!"

"I know, pretty cool looking eh?"

Militia gestured towards the dancers just as her sister grabbed hold of her wrist and spun her towards several Masqueraders standing between them and the performers. Seeing her off balance, the vagrants rushed her only for their target to drop to her knees and swiped at their exposed abdomens. Before they could stumble back, Melanie grabbed hold of her shoulder and swung her legs up to clock the stunned assailants across their faces.

Banz went bug eyed as she saw the Twins recuperate and immediately take off for them, "Aw hell no!" He shouted before taking hold of another odd piece of metal protruding from Rolo's set up and tearing it free.

Melanie raised an eyebrow as the Singer hopped back out of the DJ's booth while spinning the metal in his hand "What is that?"

"Oh just a microphone we got for the big guy." Rolo commented as the music headed towards another crescendo

But as Banz raised it between them, Melanie realized it wasn't just a microphone. Below the mic was what almost looked like a piece of an amplifi-

"Split!" she shouted just as Banz took a deep breath

The Twins suddenly darted in opposite directions as Banz let loose a powerful shout which quite literally threw several pursuing Masqueraders off their feet.

Banz hadn't expected them to react so accordingly, and found himself stumbling back while he tried to keep track of both of them while the dancers raced to catch up.

"Hurry up and get over ya slow pieces of-" he shouted towards the masqueraders before Militia suddenly slipped past him whilst raking her claws along his aura. The Singer panicked and quickly slammed down his fist, only for her to dodge out of the way and swipe him across the face.

"Makin' you look like a chump my boy." Rolo pointed out "Aren't you supposed to be the soldier?"

Militia was about to continue her assault when Banz suddenly snapped up and turned to his partner "I'm sorry!" he said in a completely different voice "I'm used to havin' a shield on me."

The voice change was oddly different enough to distract Militia long enough for the Cat-themed Masquerader to catch up, and once she began to counter the swings of the pole Banz seemed to realize his mistake.

"I mean..." the Singer shook his head before adopting his regular voice and snarling "I know what the fuck I'm doing damn it, keep an eye on the other one!"

Rolo blinked at that before realizing he hadn't spotted Melanie since she and her sister dodged Banz's initial attack. He swung around only to catch a flying kick to the face and was launched from his booth immediately. The Musician landed hard on his side, immediately groaning and rolling on his back, but before he could push himself up a white boot planted itself firmly on his chest.

He gave a somewhat pained grin as he looked up to the pissed young woman pinning him down. He his hands up as the music he produced began quieting down "I get it, lolololol, truly I do! Never was much of a fighter, honest!"

Melanie narrowed her glare before a string of curses brought her attention to her sister. As soon as Rolo was ripped from his booth, the music quite spewing from the speakers. As a result, the Masqueraders lost their rhythm, and many began falling or halting as exhaustion hit them. Without the beat, Militia had easily disarmed the Cat-Based Masquerader and was now using her pole to choke Banz from behind until the singer fell to one knee and raising a hand "Fuck sake's I give, I give goddamn it!"

As soon as the singer stopped struggling, Militia shot her sister a grin "Fun right?"

Before Melanie could scold her, the sound of approaching clapping brought everyone's attention to Bigsby, who slowly applauded them as he drew near "Good show, good show." he said before glancing to the exhausted entertainers "That's a wrap for the day, people."

"Does this mean I have to go back to my alley?" the cat-masquerader questioned as she shakily rose to her feet

"Damn girls," G.B groaned "stealing people's jobs and-"

"No, you aren't fired." Mr. Bigsby stated with a groan "I told you from the beginning that you guys defend the building, these two are supposed to keep my entertainers from making too much of a scene."

"But I love making scenes!" Banz shouted, only to shrivel under his boss's glare.

The Owner snapped his fingers before looking at both the entertainers and the twins "You four are coming with me."

Seconds later the five stood in one of the adjacent halls as Mr. Bigsby offered Melanie and Militia matching little Mirror Masks.

"Here, from now on you two are the Mirror Twins Crimson and Frozen." he stated before glancing off to the side in thought "Although, given how are fans act online I'm sure they'll shorten them to Crim and Frozie or something by your third appearance."

"That's it?" Melanie frowned at the reflective face wear "We battle our way through your entire cast for a couple of cheap pieces of plastic?"

"I think you two did right fine for tarks!" Banz pointed out in that extremely unfitting voice once more, making Militia turn on him

"What is that? You did that out there while we were fighting too."

"Just another of my companion's unfortunate slip-ups." Rolo sighed before smirking at her "Given the assignment our benevolent employer has assigned to you, I assume you know of our true origins?"

"You two are supposed to be more of those otherworldly fantasy monsters like your boss, right?"

"Indeed, my name is Borgu the Poet while my friend is Zog the Singer. And unfortunately for him his genuine voice is just too much of a dead give away. At least, that's how our employer put it."

It was true, neither Melanie nor Militia had thought too much of their voices while they were fighting. Borgu's voice was odd, but the entire Rolo character he was playing seemed odd enough for it to fit. Zog on the other hand sounded way too much like he was just waiting for a good farming village to pillage.

"And yet for some reason he ended up using it while he was supposed to be in character." Bigsby grumbled "This is why I need you two to keep track of them, Borgu was a performer even before we got a hold of him but Zog here's got too many chances to fuck it all up and god knows neither of them are gonna think to hold back when out there."

"Are we gonna have to keep throwing down with the posse out there?" Melanie grumbled "Because if so I may just have to quit here and now and just turn you all in."

"Oh come on," her sister rolled her eyes "like you weren't having fun out there."

"And neither of you could really go to the police anyway since your minimum would be three years." Mr. Bigsby pointed out casually

Both of them paused in the growing argument to watch as the disguised Uruk pulled out a flask and downed some alcohol "Excuse me?

"The stuff ya did when Junior worked here, found tons of records of it when I took this place." He capped the flask again before gesturing towards them "Now I don't really have any use for it, but if I were to be taken in now while Atlas is busy infesting the city then they'll no doubt tear this place apart to see if I've hidden any portals anywhere. Can't really fault them for taking you two in once they find out just how deeply invested you were in Junior's deals."

"B-but Junior never kept any records!" Melanie spat

"Correction, he never kept good records, doesn't mean they won't hold up in court." Bigsby shrugged before turning and walking off "Shouldn't really matter to you two anyway, this doesn't even affect you as long as I don't get locked up."

As the Disguised Uruk walked off, Melanie fought to keep from grinding her teeth. Had... had they just gotten blackmailed?

A hand on her arm made her turn her silent glare on a certain deer faunus who managed to sneak up on her while she was fuming "I told you."

Melanie's glare tightened a bit until she finally sighed, she turned back and watched as the Disguised Uruk turned a corner and disappeared from her vision "Fine, I'll admit he's far smarter than I initially gave him credit for."

The moment Bebe began smiling, Melanie was quick to shut her down "However, that doesn't mean I'm willing to believe he put an explosive in your head."

"But-!"

"If anything, its probably just a tracker of some sort."

The faunus paused at that.

"I'd question why he didn't just slap some collar on you and have you claim it was a fashion statement, but I'm even more convinced now that he'd anticipate your fear of the unknown to keep you quiet." she raised her new mask and tried it on for a second "Of course, I don't really see why he'd go through so much for you."

"Ah, I can answer that one!" Zog chuckled before walking over and patting Bebe on the head, much to her disdain "This one here was travelling companions with me and Borgu for a while!"

"More like you kidnapped me while I was defenseless!"

"Same thing, anyway since we was working with Ogthrak on this whole music gig, I assume she got dragged in since we was old time pals!"

"Don't call us that!" Bebe insisted

"Ya went to my dear late Gretchen's funeral," Borgu said wistfully as he stared at the wall in thought "Don't pretend like it didn't mean anything to you, might disturb her slumbering ghost."

While Zog chuckled at the Deer-Faunus' expense, Melanie scoffed at the odd way the mask hugged her face.

"Goddamn this thing feels cheap." she mumbled suddenly

"Boss knows where and when to cut corners." Zog pointed out as he scratched his head "Unlike the drunkards we got stumbling around this place, me and Borgu actually did get our things from one o' them cheap thrift stores."

"The Masqueraders?" Militia raised an eyebrow "But they look like they got their clothes out of the dump, how are they better than yours?"

"Because they're genuine." Borgu leaned against a nearby wall "Every piece of fancy shmancy clothes they wear may seem like garbage, but they were all once owned by Atlas elite."

That caused Melanie to turn around "Excuse me?"

"Oh yes, see apparently the boss found out just how much expensive clothes them top tier tarks from the good ol nation o' the north tosses, and immediately had someone ship a shrakh ton to him. I think its supposed to be symbolic or something? Dressing a bunch of homeless rejects in tarnished attire once worn by the elite."

"So you're telling me that Bigsby's a poet at heart?"

"Probably just did it to entice the Master, stick around for a while and ya realize that the Master is the focal point for literally everything old Oggie's ever done." Zog explained while tugging at his clown hair "These ridiculous get-ups,odd as hell operation and damn near unfathomable facade are all to keep the master entertained."

"I damn well better get an actual explanation soon, who could possibly be so important that he'd go through all this for him?"

Borgu and Zog gave each other a look for a moment, the smaller one shrugged before catching sight of Bebe, who seemed to have gone quiet at the mention of the Shaman.

"Pugrish Stormbringer, Grand Shaman and the deadliest Uruk you'll find for miles." Borgu listed off as he walked over to Bebe and wrapped an arm around her "Just ask this little tark, seems she's met the big guy himself."

"Get off me!" Bebe slipped away from him, crossing her arms and looking away as she sighed "And I don't know what I saw. At first he just looked like a creepy guy in robes but... but under the hood..."

"Was he hot?" Militia asked

Everyone turned to her, "Excuse me?" he sister scowled

"I'm just saying, if he's such a big deal that Bigsby's willing to bend backwards for him then maybe I've been trying to seduce the wrong fantasy monster."

Zog physically shivered in disgust while Borgu snickered, but Bebe merely groaned "Look, let's not talk about that thing!"

"Thing?" Militia tilted her head "You've seen his thing?"

Bebe caught herself before she could fall into the red twin's trap, and merely took a deep breath before pointing towards her head "We were talking about the thing that got stuffed into my head?"

"Oh just get it removed already." Melanie waved off her worries "There's tons of back alley doctors who'll go looking through your head for pennies around here."

"But what if they fuck it up!? What if Bigsby finds out?!" Bebe stammered before pointing to the two disguised Uruks "What if these two go running to him right now and-"

"Not happening," Borgu waved off her concern "I don't think me or the big guy are gonna be saying anything about your little escape attempt."

As the two Uruks began giggling to each other, the Faunus turned to them "You... you aren't?" she asked before swallowing and clasping her hands together "Is it because you two hold some type of camaraderie with me because of our past-"

"Nope." Zog interrupted

"Absolutely not," Borgu agreed as he patted his partner on the shoulder before pointing to her "its just that you have literally no chance of doing anything of the sort without the boss finding out."

The Faunus blinked at that for a moment before her scowl returned "Excuse me?!"

"From how you described your time with Old Hork and Tugog, you are an absolute walking disaster. If the boss really did put a bomb thing in ya head you's more likely to set it off ya'self before he ever has the chance to."

"That was then! This is now, I'm in a city where you guys don't hold all the power!"

"And yet we both know you's gonna find a way to screw ya self over." Zog chortled, before placing a hand to his chest

"Face it tark! You are an absolute complete disaster~! Crushed beneath the heel of the master~! And don't we know that you ain't getting out from under that heel soon~!"

"Did he just break into song?" Melanie asked her sister, who was equally dumbfounded by the sudden showtune as Borgu joined in.

"You're an absolute complete disaster! Digging your own grave faster and faster! And not a thing you try in your lifetime will end up being a boon!"

"Both of you weren't even there!" Bebe insisted as the two Uruks quickly congratulated each other for their quick wordings "You don't understand what I want through there!"

"And give us one reason why we should care~!" Borgu gestured to her

"Its hard to think when you guys refuse to talk normally!"

"Or maybe its hard trying to recount your experiences in a way that doesn't make you seem like the brain-dead little hybrid you are?" Zog offered before whispering to the Poet "I don't rightly know how one can lower the bar so far~!"

"Were they like this when you last traveled with them?" Melanie asked, eye twitching as the two entertainers traded in their new age celebrity tunes for old timey drinking songs.

"Yes, and I just now remember how ungodly annoying it is to try and converse with idiots who can't stop fucking singing!" the Faunus bit as Militia pushed past her

"Oh come now, they're just pointing out how incredibly stupid your plan is." the red-themed youth cooed as she came to a stop between the Faunus and the Uruks "I mean, they have a point."

"Don't you dare take their side," Melanie rolled her eyes before glancing to the Faunus "Look, all you need to do is leave the building and just evade the boss until you can find someone who can cut thing out. And beside you're apparently valuable enough to stick a tracker in, what's the worst he could do if he catches you?"

At that, Bebe went stock still as memories jumped to the forefront of her mind.

Melanie waved her hand in front of Bebe's face several times, the Faunus seemed frozen whilst staring blankly ahead. The white themed youth groaned, she'd never even managed to answer her question. Fed up with the now statuesque Bebe, Melanie turned to find the Uruks laughing at the Faunus along with her sister to a lesser extent.

"Look what you assholes did! You fucking broke her." Melanie pointed out

"The realization of what she's gonna have to go through in order to avail her concerns is probably what did it." Borgu pointed out "Watching this lass stumble about trying to get away's gonna be grand I tell's ya."

He and Zog shared a look before the duo resumed singing:

And while she fails to attain the freedom for which she strives~

We'll share a toast while bossy burns her alive~!

And as we get plastered in this filthy little dive~

The duo paused before both turned to Militia, who looked between the two before inquisitively pointing towards herself. When the entertainers nodded, she sighed, but after a while gave a half-hearted "We'll sit back and wonder why she ever hoped to survive~?"

Borgu and Zog looked at each other before giving nods and patting the young woman on the back.

Melanie could almost feel a snarl working its way up her throat as she glared at her sister "Militia I swear if you start doing that at home you are fucking dead to me."

---

The Arceus...

If you think I'm just gonna break my hand on a solid metal door just because you asked, you must be absolutely brain-dead.

Uthug could practically feel Gundza groaning inside his head as he looked over the oddly contorted door which no doubt was supposed to be opened at one point.

They were in the main body of the ship, not too far off from some of those would-be stores that made up the majority of the Arceus's center. After several days of goading, Gundza had finally convinced Uthug to leave the safety of Bubol's territory to go scouting for possible venues of escape. They'd had several stops, mainly due to several unaffiliated inmates thinking the warrior wold be easy pickings since he was alone, but they'd eventually managed to find several doors near the upper parts of the ship like this one.

It seemed like it was supposed to open with a wheel-like contraption, but the wheel had been removed and most of the door had been seared shut and bolted over.

Gundza had immediately identified it as a rushed method of sealing them off from any higher points of the ship, and had suggested finding a way into the ship's air ducts. Even after getting Uthug to crawl into one, they found a similar problem in that many pathways were either sealed up or unreachable. there were even some other inmates hiding there, which Uthug had to deal with.

All in all, the Looter's steady increase in complaints could be understood by many, but that didn't really matter to the shadow inside him.

Look, if this is how they're keeping us confined to the lower decks then I need to get a feel for just how thick it may be. You don't have to go hammering, just a few pats here and there!

And what if these Atlas folk got some kind of defense systems?

Uthug glanced around to several splotches of dry black blood which seemed far too close to the door for his comfort.

The Caterers spend most of their time up here slaughtering anyone who doesn't join them for food, I'd be willing to bet this was there handiwork.

Bet? So there's still a chance that some kinda gun's gonna pop out and mow me down soon as I touch this thing?

There's a chance the bloody shaman himself is on the other side of this thing going at it with a Grimm! There's a chance for literally anything now quit pissing ya'self and touch the damn thing!

Grumbling, Uthug complied. He approached slowly and placed his hand against the contorted door, but once nothing happened he gave it several more pats.

There, am I done here?

Odd, I expected them to have more security than that.

So you did expect something and still made me do it?!

Quit your belly-aching, you can leave now.

Uthug rolled his eyes before turning and walking from the door. Being back on the upper deck still felt odd, he may have allowed himself to get familiar with the constant presence of allies no matter how annoying they were. The lack of complaining and clacking metal was near maddening, but at least it was better than when Gundza started yapping.

I'd say if a good number of Uruks went at that door with heavy arms they'd be able to break it down in about half an hour, nowhere near as quick as necessary.

Why does it even matter how long it'd take them to get through? I thought that the whole point of helping that lunatic friend of yours fight the Caterers was that nothing could stop us if everybody quits fighting and worked together.

We're stopping the Caterers because they seem deadset on interrupting any escape attempts we may plan, the issue of how long our escape would take is a whole other thing. I want you to ask yourself, why exactly do you believe these tarks made a ship into our prison?

Uthug paused, folding his arms for a moment as he left the hall and entered another large open section of stores and stalled escalators. Gundza called these parts shopping centers, but in their unfinished state they looked like any old ruins to the looter.

I thought you said it was convenient for them, this place was partially built already so converting it into something else was simple for them.

Yes, but Atlas is known for nothing if not its overwhelming construction output. They have a number of locations they could've turned into a prison, and yet they took what was to be a playground for the elite and used that instead.

If you're going to make a point then make it, enough with this beating around the bush business.

A ship is able to move between the nations and have the vast quantities of space necessary for numbers such as our. Its also far more easy to destroy than a prison on land.

Uthug blinked at that, What?

A well-designed ship can easily be used to pick up inmates from all corners of the world, it just happens that this one functions doubly as a massive execution chamber for all of us.

When Uthug didn't immediately respond, the Shadow continued.

I spent some time inside an Atlesian's mind, and while he was fairly defensive with his minds secrets I was able to gleam some information about this place in particular. I just never thought I'd need it until I ended up stuck in here with you.

Which was your fault of course.

ANYWAY...ahem, this ship is designed to keep us all locked down here but its also designed to activate a sinking process should the Wardens feel as if they've lost control. Its not instantaneous as the Skeleton crew that's running this place does have time to escape, but by the time we'd break down one of those doors there'd be no way to save ourselves from the ocean's cruelty.

Uthug growled at this revelation before looking up to the top of the shopping center, where sunlight streamed in through a plane of glass on the ceiling.

What about those? All these Shopping center things have windows like that and-

I saw glass like that on several Atlesian war machines during my time at Vale, I assure you it would take far longer to bust down that than it would the door, especially at what angle its at. We would need far more than the hand-made weaponry we've got to get through that.

Well what about the explosives? Bubol and his lot said the Caterers keep trying to blast their way out, we'll just nik it from em.

Which would necessitate acquiring it from them, and since I doubt they'd make it easy we'd still need to contest with them in the end.

Uthug placed his head in his hands and groaned, as he did he spotted movement from the ground floor of the center. An inmate tried to run from one store to another when his leg got caught in a trap which immediately sent him sprawling to the floor.

He hollered like a madman for several seconds before several Caterers raced out of nearby passages. Several approached, but the inmate swung at them wildly with his bare hands until the gang finally rushed in and hauled him off.

Damn it, why can't these loons make it easy for me? I don't understand! All they need to do is blast upwards instead of downwards and we'd be on the same page!

Tark ships don't work like ours, ya glob. Lot more systems in place, setting off explosives almost anywhere could cause a chain reaction. But you make a fair point, its actually something I've been thinking of as well.

Uthug leaned back and began walking along the storefront, looking over the many possible weapons he could pry from the structure as Gundza continued.

Several things about the Caterers are unclear to me, especially given how well they've apparently done for themselves. Most grunts are idiots through and through, needing leaders of exceptional intelligence and moxy to make up for the brains they don't have.

Gee, thanks for the stunning compliments there pal.

Don't get sentimental on me! My point is that even with how lazily Bubol's been taking this, the fact that the Caterer leaders are still smart enough to counter him means they should know better than to just start blasting this whole place apart. Something don't sit well with me, and I aim to figure it out first and foremost.

Let's focus on one thing at a time, Uthug thought as he scanned the lower deck from above Any Idea how we're gonna take these guys down? You insist Bubol's still capable despite his blatant insanity, how are we gonna do what he couldn't?

I merely stated that he can impress when he wants to, and he's clearly not taking this whole gang war as seriously as he should. He's having too much fun with things as they are, he's got a habit of procrastinating when he's entertained. We need to get the ball rolling-

Both the Shadow and Host paused when roars and clashes of weapons rang out from somewhere.

And perhaps whatever that was could help us build momentum, investigate!

No need to yell. Uthug grumbled to himself before jogging in the direction of the sounds.

He slowed down when he noticed something unexpected on the ground floor below. A small group of Bubol's Crew were finishing fending off several other inmates. It was odd, they hardly ever came up here due to the Caterers constantly ambushing them. Not only that, the moment their opponents were fleeing the Crewmates turned and began arguing with each other while gesturing to their surroundings.

"-there's only so many places they could've taken him, we need to move!" One Uthug recognized as Galkar shouted

"You know what happens to scouts around here, he can handle himself." another waved it off while tapping a large mace against the floor

"They had him bound!" Galkar tried again

"So?" another Crewmate shrugged "I once saw him beat two globs to death with nothing but his pelvis, he'll be fine."

"But-!" Galkar prepared to lambaste his cohorts when the sound of something landing behind him made him lunge away as he turned to find Uthug rising "You!"

"Looks like you lazy bastards finally decided to come crawling out of your hidey hole, eh?" the Looter asked as he folded his arms "What's the occasion?"

"Boss is gone." the Mace-wielder stated

Uthug blinked "What?"

"Nabbed, bound, hauled off by Caterers." Another explained

"What the Shrakh?! I was gone two hours! Were we attacked?!"

Even if we were, I don't understand how those cannibalistic fools could've nabbed someone as slippery as Bubol.

"No no, none of that."

"What, did they sneak in?"

Bubol is far too perceptive for any old goon to sneak up on.

"No, they never even got near our territory." Galkar rubbed at his head

"Well how in the Dark Lord's name did they manage to not only subdue the boss, but also run off with him!?"

"Oh uh, see I think they figured out that the Diseased was having eyes for one of their boys, so they had him send a letter of confession."

Uthug stared at Galkar for five long seconds, his body practically frozen as his mind worked to catch up with the revelation until "What?"

"Yeah, so the Boss read it and got this really hungry look in his eye before flying off to meet up with the guy. He was so quick that we were the only ones who saw him bookin' it. We caught up with him just in time to see them hauling him away."

"WHAT?!"

"We followed them up here, but then this gang of pushovers tried jumping us while's we was distracted. Now we don't know where they took him!"

"A damned love letter was all it took?!"

Yeah... sounds about right.

Uthug was fuming, he jabbed a finger in Galkar's direction "How the sweet black hell could you let them get away?!"

"Oi, you try running in this stuff!" the Mace-Wielder patted his armor "Ain't quite that easy ya glob!"

"Then why didn't you just take the armor off!?"

"And leave ourselves exposed to whatever those cheap-shot taking cooks throws at us?"

Uthug threw his arms up in the air and turned away "You're all useless!"

They're chiefless, I don't understand how you had any hope for them in the first place.

That's not an excuse! I was chiefless!

And look how great you turned out. Look, we need to find Bubol before those explosion-crazed slaughterers do away with him. As manic as he can be he's the only thing keeping those Idiot Crewmates of his together.

Uthug glanced back to find said idiots already arguing with each other about whether to go looking for their leader or not. The looter grimaced at their incompetency for a moment before muttering "Where would they even take him?"

Think logically here. He's one of the most dangerous blokes on-board who they only managed to catch through exploiting his unending lust, they'd have to take him somewhere close so they could bind him properly. No matter how blast-crazed they are they'd have to be truly brain dead to not slap better restraints on him of all people.

That still doesn't-...wait.

Uthug took off, retracting his steps until he came to the place he saw the one inmate get caught in that trap.

Starting to use your brain, eh?

It had been right here, hadn't it? Uthug kneeled and tapped two fingers to where the trap had been before slowly looking over to where the Caterers had dragged the inmate off.

Probably a slaughterhouse around here, what do you want to bet that our dimwitted pervert's been taken there?

Uthug grimaced, You've known this guy since he was back with Hork, how often does he need bailing out of shrahk like this?

He's capable as hell, trust me. Just... make sure to keep that schedule clear... just in case.

---

The City of Vale

"-and after you're finished with your modifications we should talk about next semester's check-up project." Weiss finished as she stopped outside a weapon's shop to check her scroll.

Following behind her was a somewhat disheartened Ruby carrying a bag. Inside was a number of awesome little doo-hickeys which she was planning on hooking up to her pride and joy, Crescent Rose, later today. That alone would usually have the little reaper whooping and hollering with enthusiasm, but the reminder of what Weiss had planned afterward was more than enough to put a damper on her growing spirits.

The heiress had actually conceded to Ruby's suggestion for a partner's day out, but only on the grounds that they get productive. With their plans for the tournament nullified by Blake's condition, the Schnee had immediately set out to fill up all the free time they now had. Ruby had underestimated her partner's planning, for already the residential Ice Queen was planning for next semester's eventual workload.

"Wait," Ruby paused beside her partner "they didn't announce a project for next semester."

"But they'll want to make sure we haven't allowed any of our skills to falter between sessions." Weiss answered immediately "Whether a test or a project, we will be prepared for it."

Ruby sighed, knowing that her teammate was right. They'd done something similar at the beginning of the last semester, and even if they didn't do the same thing now she knew that Weiss wouldn't give them a chance to catch them off guard.

"But shouldn't we wait for Blake to get better so we can all discuss it?" Ruby asked as Weiss continued walking "I mean, it sounds like its just gonna be setting up our training schedule for the break and-"

She bumped into Weiss who had stopped walking suddenly.

"Sorry!" Ruby said quickly, before realizing that Weiss was being distracted by something across the street "What are you..?"

Several civilians seemed to be standing around a display case where several TV screens were showing the Vale News Network. It was too far away to hear, but Ruby could see several panning images of Amity Colosseum followed by pictures of the teams competing in the approaching tournament.

Ruby looked from the screens to Weiss several times before hefting the bag in her hands and bumping the Heiress with her hip "Think Pyrhha's gonna take home the gold again?"

After a moment, Weiss sighed before shrugging "She's a safe bet, but you can never tell with how many new contestants popped up this time around."

Hearing the lackluster tone in her friend's voice, Ruby tapped at the ground with her boot a bit "Wanna talk about it?"

"I'm not mad at her."

Ruby perked up at the sudden turnabout, and Weiss rolled her eyes before continuing along the sidewalk "I know that's what you were going to ask, but I'm not mad at Blake."

"Was I really that transparent?" Ruby glanced away before following behind her partner

"Like a freshly waxed window." Weiss gave her a small smile before frowning "But in answer to your question I'm more agitated that we're doing this again."

"Doing what?"

"We're having another hard run on the Blake-Yang cycle, and since we've already been here you may understand my annoyance."

"You named a cycle after Blake and my Sister?"

"It was initially going to just be called the Blake cycle, but Yang's connection with her partner necessitated a bit of an alteration." Weiss put her scroll away and folded her arms "This'll be the third or fourth time Blake's closed herself off with brooding self reflection, I'm still considering the time after Yires but you get the point. I've come to recognize and accept her odd method of dealing with emotions, and have even come to terms with how much value she places on Yang's input, but the fact that I am still not able to garner enough of her trust to even be considered in the same realm as your sibling is... vexing."

"But I don't have the same relationship with her that Yang does, doesn't mean we don't look out for each other when the going get's tough!" Ruby smiled wide as the Heiress sighed

"I'm not talking about in the field Ruby." Weiss scowled for a moment before gesturing to herself "As you know, I may not be the most well versed in companionship."

"Understatement of the century."

"However," Weiss bit "I want you and the rest of our team to feel comfortable with asking my help for... things... personal stuff that may be happening in your lives and such."

Ruby blinked once... then twice, then let the bag slip from her grasp down to the ground as she raised both of her hands to cheeks "Weiss... are you... asking to emotionally bond with us more!?"

"I mean-!" Weiss looked away for a moment "As teammates that shouldn't be such a surprise right-ack!"

The Heiress was cut off by her partner lunging forth and wrapping her up in her arms "That is so cute!"

"Ruby would you- just!" the heiress struggled "Let me go!"

Though nowhere as soul-crushing as one of Yang's, Weiss found Ruby's hug to be far too tight and intimate for her liking. And though she didn't want to come off as stand-offish, Weiss was not one for overtly public shows of affection. So the moment Ruby's arms loosened she immediately slipped out of her partner's grasp.

Ruby didn't let Weiss's hasty retreat impede the growing smile which had blossomed on her face, instead she picked up her bag of weapon mods with a flurry "Don't you worry Weiss! As soon as we're done with this I'll call Yang up and we can have a true heart to heart!"

"If it leads to Yang following your example then I may have to reconsider." Weiss grunted as she straightened out her clothes

"What?" Ruby snickered "Don't like my hugs?"

"Maybe she would find mine more favorable?"

Weiss shook her head "No Penny, that's not the issue at-"

The Heiress froze mid-sentence before whipping around, only to find a pair of bright green eyes waiting for her.

Weiss lunged back as Penny stood straight, sailing right into her thankfully prepared teammate. Penny giggled at the two of them as she placed both hands on her hips and cocked her head "Pleasure to see you again, Ruby my friend! And Weiss, it is always good to see you in such a lively state!"

"Penny?" Ruby blinked as Weiss stepped away

"How did you sneak up on us like-?" Weiss began before sighing "You know what? Forget it."

After seeing a mammoth like Krimp slip away like a sandy wisp, her suspension of disbelief when it came to things like stealth was shot to hell.

"It feels like forever, Penny!" Ruby exclaimed "I was certain I wouldn't see you at least until the Tournament."

"Things might have gone that way had I not found proper motivation!" Penny explained before glancing to Weiss and smiling "But now I'm happy to say that I have acquired more companions than I ever would have before hand! Which reminds me."

Weiss blinked as Penny approached, almost instantly the taller girl gestured to herself grandly "I am very sorry for not spending as much time with you as I could have, Weiss Schnee. I was perhaps too focused on gaining the friendship of your partner to act in a... suitably welcoming manner to you."

"What... what exactly are you doing?"

"This is part of my routine!" Penny exclaimed whilst tapping two of her fingers together "Of course, I changed it a bit since we've already been acquainted, Weiss, I hope you don't mind if I skipped some parts."

"Wait," Ruby pointed to her "is this how you've been getting these new companions of yours?"

"Yessiree Ruby old pal!" the android gave her a thumbs up "A blatant introduction coupled with a forward yet positive tone and expression is sure to elicit a positive response in four out of seven people!"

"Sounds so mechanical when you say it like that." Weiss pointed out, causing Penny to halt for a second.

But it wasn't long until the red-head was smiling up a storm once more "It does need some ironing out, one of my new friend's has a system that's nearly ten times more effective! I should know, my companion output is only a tenth of his."

Weiss folded her arms once more "I'd forgotten what interacting with you had been like, Penny." she stated "Not since Krimp have I heard someone go into such great detail about making-... wait."

"Oh! He told me that you guys were acquianted!" Penny said enthusiastically

"Penny," Ruby interjected "you've hung out with Krimp?"

"Of course, that Uruk has quite the talent for getting around if you have not noticed."

"We have." Weiss stated, wondering how she could've forgotten such a detail. Back when she and Blake were forced to listen to Krimp's ridiculous friendship escapades she could distinctly remember the Uruk mentioning how he and Penny had met up at an arcade. She hadn't given too much thought to it at the time, as she had still been trying to comprehend the sheer number of people he'd managed to get on good terms with, but now that she looked over the details again she grew curious "He did tell Blake and I about your meeting at an arcade, but I'm afraid I'm blanking on some details."

"You guys went to an arcade together?" Ruby snickered, trying to picture her secretly metallic friend and the disguised Uruk bonding over video games and finding the resulting image far too humorous.

"Well, we did not go there together. It was more like a chance meet up!" Penny corrected before looking up to the sky as she recalled "I just so happened to have noticed several people enjoying a dance machine together as I was passing by. I tried having fun like them, but something had been missing. Then the Uruk had shown up in his disguise seeing my troubles and danced with me in order to get the full effect! Our companionship was practically guaranteed at that point."

Ruby once more failed to hold back her snickers, it had been a while since she last spoke with Penny and all too quickly she'd remembered why she found the secret robot to be one of her most treasured friends. Penny's origin aside, the girl was just so cheerful with most things that no matter what she could cheer the little reaper up just with her presence alone. But after being apart for so long, Ruby realized that something about this seemed familiar. Penny had said that she'd been hanging out with Krimp, which wasn't a surprise at this point, Ruby was sure at his rate there'll be no one on Remnant who can claim not to have interacted with him.

But locking gazes with Weiss momentarily, Ruby realized the heiress recognized it too.

"So I take it he's the one who got you all motivated?" Weiss pointed out

"Yep!" Penny gave a salute "After hearing about how I was trying to get to know the citizens of Vale better, he began telling me all the tips and tricks he had developed to make friends!"

"Penny Polendina and Krimp the Friendly, warriors of friendship." Ruby sounded it out before nodding "Yeah, I can see it."

"Perhaps one of the most important things he helped me realize was how much you truly mean to me, Ruby!" Penny said as she approached

Ruby glanced around before giving a nervous smile "He... did?"

"Yep! Krimp introduced me to a concept I had previously underestimated: Best Friends!"

Ruby gave a sigh of relief "Oh, well I consider you one of my best friends Penny."

"But I haven't been showing it properly!" Penny placed a hand to her own chest as she recited "Krimp told me how his Best Friend is someone who he ruushes to please even at the expense of his other friends. I initially thought this seemed quite unfair to all his other friends, but then I got to thinking. And I came to the realization that I similarly value your friendship far more than that of my other friends... no offense Weiss."

"None taken," the Heiress shrugged "if I was someone else I'd probably put more stock on her than me too."

"Weiss! You shouldn't-"

"Don't get sympathetic on me, I'm merely objectively aware of how likely someone would be to gravitate towards your social ques than mine."

"But-!"

"And so when I heard that my newly established bestie had not only returned with a wounded teammate but had also lost out on participating in the tournament, I knew that I had to offer my support as soon as possible!" Penny gave a thumbs up before frowning "Krimp said he hasn't been able to be there for his bestie in many many years. It sounded horrible, so I want to make sure I'm there for you as much as possible!"

"But you know he's an Uruk right?" Weiss commented "Besides the Grimm, his people are some of the deadliest beings on Remnant right now."

"I knew something was amiss the second I saw how tall he was!" Penny stated proudly before wagging a finger "However, I could not bring myself to call him out for his identity what with how genuinely interested he seemed in helping me. Besides, what if he had just inherited an unfortunately blatant Faunus trait? Of course, law enforcement has made it clear that he is not to be taken lightly, so if I do see him again I'll have to bring him in, unfortunate as it may be."

"Well there's that." Weiss conceded before giving a thoughtful hum "I knew he had a system in place for getting his obscene amount of friends. But when you speak about it, it sounds more like a numbers game than the psychological web I anticipated."

Penny tilted her head to the side at that, but then suddenly leaned towards the Heiress "Hey, want me to share some of interesting tidbits that Krimp gave me?"

Weiss quick to back away "No... that's quite alright Penny."

Despite the potential for learning more about the seemingly ever-present companion-maker, Weiss could blatantly remember the last time she sat down to learn about Krimp's particular style of friendship. She wanted to trust Penny, as Ruby seemed to put a lot of faith in her, but even the possibility of having to sit down and listen to a bunch of after-school style feel good stories was enough to make her backtrack.

But suddenly she felt Ruby's hand on her shoulder "Hey come on! You said ya wanted to bond more, what's more bonding than telling stories with friends?"

Weiss narrowed her gaze "If you're doing this just to get out of planning for next semester, Ruby-"

"That settles it!" Penny cheered as she slipped between the two and wrapped her arms around their sides "Off we go to have a wonderful friend day! If Krimp were here, I bet even he would be jealous of the fun we are about to have!"

Weiss rolled her eyes as the taller girl began leading the two of them towards what she was hoping was an insightful discussion, with how fast he seemed to travel there was absolutely no telling where that tub of lard could be.

---

The City of Vale- Pug-Bringer Studios (Formerly known as Junior's)

Bebe pushed her way through a door to the halls behind the main portion of the club, the laughter of both Zog and Borgu echoing behind her as she immediately made for the nearest restroom. After the twins had left the duo had started discussing tomorrow's playlist. What began as just throwing seemingly random song ideas about had quickly changed pace when the duo began slipping in slights to their unfortunate Faunus driver.

Apparently insulting her plans to escape wasn't enough jollies for them, and their songs took a much sharper turn once she realized just who their subject was.

She wouldn't let them get to her, she just needed to put distance between her and them for the time being until she could collect herself. So what if they thought her efforts were in vain, who were they? Just some random grunts blessed with personally fulfilling semblances who got snatched up by some robed maniac's underling for what could basically be summarized as a dare.

Taking a deep breath, Bebe turned a corner only to pause. Outside the doors to the bathrooms were several Masqueraders, apparently tuckered out by the dancing and fighting earlier. The Deer Faunus quickly looked around for a bunny mask, but fortunately for her it seemed Grimm Bunny was off being a nuisance elsewhere. If she just had to deal with the Female Masqueraders then maybe she could slip in and out without hassle.

She stepped past those outside and opened the door to the women's restroom before immediately clasping a hand to her face and stifling a choking sound. A wave of smoke practically rolled out to envelop the Faunus the moment the door opened, and she batted some of it away as she took several shaky steps inside.

As expected, there were more female Masqueraders inside, several of which seemed fine with crowding near the back and puffing on what she hoped was just cigarettes. With all that she had to deal with, Bebe was positive that getting a second-hand high from them would only worsen her situation. But she toughened up and tried one of he stalls, only to find it locked.

Swallowing the growing anxiety, she moved a bit closer to several Masqueraders who seemed bunched near the sink mirror and tried the next one. She may have pulled a bit harder than she intended, for the loud sound of the door shaking was followed by a yelp of pain and the sound of glass breaking on the floor.

"Fucking bitch made me miss!" a female voice shouted from inside, and Bebe moved to backpedal only to bump into someone.

"Hm?" the Masquerader turned to look down at the Faunus from behind a cat mask "Oh, if it isn't the chauffeur, I was wondering when you would show up for one of these get togethers."

Despite her polite tone, the constant smoke made Bebe refuse to open her mouth and respond.

"Thought she was just the big guy's personal hoe." one of the smoker's muttered before taking a drag "Why would she come to a dive like this, bet she's got a ritzy fuckin apartment bathroom she can use."

"Now now," Cat Mask waved off her cohorts before placing a hand on top of Bebe's head "I've been in the game long enough to spot unsullied goods. And ladies? This tart right her is as unsullied as they come."

"Pfft, the fuck she is." another Smoker blurted "With how close she is to the boss and his boy's I don't care how long you've been playing, Dust Kitten, this bitch's been sucking someone."

Bebe had no reason to believe that denying it would change their minds, in fact she was certain she'd start coughing the second she tried speaking. But that didn't mean she was just letting these insults slide over her. The Masqueraders were pretty much Societal rejects, and being talked down to by any one of them stung like hell. And since she knew damn well that picking a fight with any one of them would end badly, the only other option was-

One of the stall doors flew open and smacked a nearby masquerader as its occupant stepped out. With a broken needle in one hand and a thin trail of blood leaking down the other, the occupant lifted their own mask and glanced around with a growl "Which dead sack o shit was it who made me miss?!"

Dust Kitten was about to gesture towards the Deer-Faunus, only to find that Bebe had slipped back out the restroom the moment the opportunity had presented itself.

Bebe didn't stop running until the scent of smoke finally worked its way out of her nostrils, stumbling to a stop in what looked to be a dressing room near the back of the building. There were several racks back there with Masquerader attire still hung up, seems Mr. Bigsby had more outfits than he did assholes to fill them. Besides a single janitor who seemed busy cleaning cigarette butts and empty beer cans near what looked like a closed delivery gate, she was all alone.

And so she found a spot in between two dressing racks and slid down a wall to catch her breath. She'd felt somewhat safe here before, with the idea that she was at least surrounded by enough humans to not have to worry about death twenty-four seven. But who had she been kidding? The humans here were the absolute worst their race had to offer, so bad not even other humans could tolerate them. And with how many substances Ogthrak allowed them to indulge in there was no telling when one would fly off the handle.

It figures, doesn't matter where she was, as long as an Uruk's in charge it will be hell. She wouldn't go as far as to say it was worst than the tower, what with the Tower Uruks constant abuse and their treatment of her fellow Faunus like food. But at least she had Uthug there to soak up most of the damage. She wanted to feel bad about thinking of the angry looter as little more than a meat shield, but he had consistently denied any and all of her attempts to build trust between them.

Certainly didn't help that she abandoned him in the face of the Shaman but-

Bebe quickly shook her head, she wouldn't allow herself to feel guilty about that! She knew with absolute certainty that if the roles were reversed, if she had been the one pinned by Tuka, that Uthug would've ran without a second thought and would probably feel nothing afterwards.

But even so... why did that fact not make her feel any better?

So caught up in her thoughts, Bebe didn't notice the figure looming over her until her curled up form was swallowed by his shadow. It was only then that her annoying thoughts subsided enough for her to look up at the Janitor, who she only now realized was excessively tall... and had a smile far too warm for its own good.

"Krimp!?" the Faunus exclaimed as she instinctively scurried back to the wall

"Hey buddy!" the Disguised Uruk cheered with a wave while tapping his broom against the ground "I was wondering why you was all cowering and such."

"I wasn't-!" Bebe caught herself, refusing to follow that particular line of dialogue "What are you doing back here?!"

"Oh, this is part of my job, lass!" Krimp patted himself with a grin "Oggie says I can stay here for as long as I'd like as long as I take care of all of you's messes."

"But I haven't seen you all day! And I don't care how unnaturally sneaky you are, I would've spotted you eventually!"

"Righty, I was out trying to get back in me old friend-making groove for a while." Krimp explained "But I only made twenty-five new friends today, and with results that low I figured coming back and getting to work was the right thing to do."

"How is twenty-five new friends somehow disappointing to you?"

"Oh you should've seen me in my hay-day, back in Mordor! I had to work really hard in order to even try and keep up what with how many got yanked outta the pits daily, so making at least a hundred pals every day here should be child's play. Unfortunately, I've go a bit of a hang up. And it kinda looks like you've got something getting in your way too."

"Well duh!" Bebe yelled "I'm trying to-!"

She paused, Borgu and Zog might not see her as enough of a threat to expose her plans, but what about Krimp? From what she knew of the guy, he seemed like the perfect companion. Always willing to help out and listen when needed, shockingly versed in a variety of skills, and stubbornly friendly to the point of absurdity. Considering who she's had the misfortune of knowing in the past few months, he should be the best person to go to with problems.

But even so, he just didn't seem... smart enough to not botch something if he tried helping her. She just couldn't get over how childish his mannerisms were, and she needed someone who could take things seriously.

"Forget it," she looked away while standing up "you wouldn't understand."

"Ah phooey, I know lots!" Krimp countered "Maybe I can guess what's wrong with ya! It's Oggie right?"

"What?!"

"You's afraid he's overworking himself!"

Bebe's panic subsided immediately as she shook her head and pushed past the Uruk "Why would I care if that muscle-bounded bastard worked himself to death or not?"

"You's worried about someone specifically! I'm just narrowing down the list!" Krimp said before placing a finger to his lips in thought

She paused, he was actually closer than she initially thought. But she wasn't going to let him know that "Besides, if he wants to kill himself over some stupid loyalty to some guy in a robe then what do I care?"

"Shaman's more than a guy in a robe sweetness. You said ya met him, you should know!"

Bebe grumbled a bit, trying not to focus too hard on the memory of that thing under the robe, but she couldn't. And so she took a long, calming breath before asking "What is he?"

"Hm?" Krimp tilted his head to the side

"The Shaman, that thing under-... he's not an Uruk right? His face-"

"Oh! No he's an Uruk all right, that thing you probably saw was his Mask o Memories."

That made Bebe turn around, so he wasn't some horrifying monster?

"Mask of what?"

"The Mask of Memories, came up with it himself." Krimp snickered before raising a finger "Shaman's hard to fight lass, so hard that he shows a great respect for the people and creatures who've ever come close. And so if ya get close to killing him but he still wins, ya get added to the mask of memories. By my count there's about twenty three different warriors, monsters, and the like who've got places on that thing."

Despite the horrifying tidbit, Bebe actually felt better. What she'd seen under that robe had been amalgamation of faces, teeth and bone. She'd somehow convinced herself that the Shaman was some fleshy monster, but if he was just wearing a terrifying mask then under all that-

"He's... just an Uruk." She fond herself saying... a tiny smile forming. But then it faded, the realization that she'd abandoned Uthug over what had actually been a mask slowly blossoming.

"Uh, wouldn't say he's just an Uruk either." Krimp interrupted her trailing mind "Kind of underwhelming considering-"

"But you said it, he's just got this horrible-looking mask on." she said

"Ya just ain't getting it lass." Krimp shook his head "You ever learn how we Uruks are made?"

She shivered "Uthug said they pull you freaks out of some kinda pit."

"Yep! And let me tell ya, being assembled through sorcery and mixtures while hundreds of your brothers are trying to do the same all around you is quite the ordeal. Everyone's kicking and scratching at each other with limbs that haven't even fully formed yet, pulling each other down as they try to be the first to reach the surface. Its why we need strong vat-keepers, only a strong lad can reach in and pull an Uruk out of that kinda mess, let alone do it hundreds of times a day."

"Where are you going with this?"

"Right, so... we get pulled out of the spawn pit like anyone else, but many of us is different despite these similar origins. Some come prepackaged with immense strength or eyes that see in the dark, or even the talent for speaking to beasts... and then you get the types like the Shaman."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying that the pits spew out Uruks with a number of random traits, but with how many come out that randomization occasionally creates Uruks that are... well, too good." Krimp gave a bit of a laugh at that "Uruks who's abilities are too much for them to be considered on the same level as their brothers. Now we Uruks naturally compete against each other to weed out weakness, but these guys have the odds so stacked in their favor that they often wipe out their competition and amass armies all on their own. Most of the time they get so drunk on this power that they eventually try to challenge the Dark Lord himself."

Bebe was now staring at the Uruk, he body refusing to move as she swallowed before carefully asking "And- and what happens then?"

"The Dark Lord reminds them and all the rest of us why he's the Dark Lord, using his immense power to destroy these contenders and re-solidifying his place at the top of the Food Chain. My brother likes to call Uruks like these as Claimants, or Usurpers depending on your vocation. But the thing about the Shaman was he was too smart in addition to his physical might, he recognized that no matter how strong he was in comparison to other Uruks, that he would never be able to stand against the power of the Dark Lord. And so his ambition faded and he became complacent, settled with what he had and allowed the cycle of competition to continue unchallenged."

"But, surely he's not the only one to-"

"No no, occasionally this happens with other Claimants, and at that point they either become Overlords or become the first line of the Dark Lord's army, then it usually takes an exceptionally powerful beast or a blessed hero to take 'em down. But old Pugsy never reached beyond serving Warchiefs, I guess knowing he could never actually reach the top induced some kinda stagnation. He was still mighty feared and respected by the others though, and Uruks like Ogthrak flock to power such as his even when he ain't really using it."

"A-And now he's here." Bebe said slowly

"Well yeah!" Krimp smiled "I was so happy for him after we got sucked into this place! Ever since we wound up here he's been more enthusiastic than ever! Believe me he had all types of fun while serving in Mordor, but the guy never smiled as often as he did after he realized we was in another realm."

Krimp started laughing at that, the friendly Uruk seemingly blind to the growing dread he'd planted deep into the mind of the Faunus before him. The White Fang had been having trouble with what the Uruks call Chiefless, those without Warchiefs who merely acted impulsively. Then Bebe had met the Warchiefs and realized that if they entered the fray Brother Adam would be pressured, what with the plans he had with those mysterious humans already requiring his attention. She'd assumed informing her brothers and sisters of the Warchiefs was critical to the future of her people, but now Krimp was telling her that this Shaman guy apparently outclassed even them?!

She needed to escape now more than ever, if she allowed him to continue working in the shadows as he has been then there's no possible way that her comrades will be able to counter whatever he tries doing.

"T-thank you for the-uh.. information!" no matter how hard she tried,m she couldn't keep the panic from her voice "I... guess he's more than I initially thought so-"

"Now you gotta share something with me!"

Bebe paused, having not expected the Uruk to actually charge her for his information. He'd just seemed so forward that she'd assumed he just had a big mouth. But if he was gonna press her for something in return then...

She shook her head, Ogthrak already grilled her for information regarding the Fang. She was only a lookout, if anything her brother would have more useful information than she did. He was the one who helped relay orders whenever their captain wasn't around. She doesn't know what she could possibly have that could be equivalent to the bombshell Krimp had just thrown out there.

"I don't- I mean, what do you want?"

Krimp's smile widened as he took several steps towards her and leaned over til his face was on level with hers "Tell me about Uthug, silly!"

And suddenly her panic was almost drowned by confusion "I'm sorry?"

"I never got to meet the guy! According to Borgu and Zog, you and he were like two peas in a pod!"

No, she was not about to start dredging up memories about the Looter with all this other stuff she now had on her plate. With a frown, she folded her arms "He was just some bitter scavenger who got roped up in the same trouble I did, nothing else."

"Come now, you two went through so much together if what the others said was true!" Krimp giggled before patting her on the shoulder "Travelling through the desert, fighting that big old Grimm-"

"I was unconscious for most of that," She brushed him off "and I'll have you know that those two shouldn't be considered a reliable source of information."

"Then, why don't you tell me how things really went down, eh?"

Though the Faunus narrowed her eyes at him, she was already considering the benefits. For some reason she just couldn't stop kicking herself for running off on the Looter in his time of need, and all of her justifications didn't seem to make it better. She always heard that talking about problems made them more manageable, stopped them from festering inside. And unlike info on the Fang or her attempts to escape, she couldn't find any risks to telling Krimp about a single Uruk who, for all she knew, might be dead at this point.

And so she talked.

Krimp helped her sit on a nearby trunk and sat down while the Faunus spoke, talked about everything she could think of. From being ambushed by Zog's original Captain to being stuck trekking through the desert with their party of unfortunate fellows. From when Borgu and Zog left to the days spent working under Tarz. She did however, cut out the whole killing his brother a second time thing, that was a scene she was more than enthusiastic about omitting. But besides that, she gave him everything, she went into detail about Uthug, how he acted while they were trapped together,and how he stole and hid to survive. Finally she spoke of Tuka's attempted thievery of the Shaman's Journal to the eventual moment where she abandoned Uthug.

Krimp raised an eyebrow as he watched the Faunus tense up at that particular moment, and apparently couldn't stop himself from chiming in "You okay there, buddy?"

She could've brushed off his concerns, continued her story and been done with it "I've been feeling weird about leaving him, I guess its something akin to guilt."

"Well that's funny, you two was close enough. You should know he would've done the same-"

"I know that!" she slipped off the trunk to her feet "I know that and I still feel bad about it! He wouldn't! He'd probably have himself a drink and get back to stealing from others without a moment's hesitation. Even then I still feel horrible and I don't know why!"

Krimp watched her fume for a moment before snapping his fingers "I get it! You hate that ya stooped to his level!"

That made Bebe pause "Excuse me?!"

"You spent so much time ragging on him for his lifestyle, about how much of a cowardly thief he was. So now that you've done something that you know he would've done, you's starting to hate that you can successfully compare yourselves."

"But I'm not like him! I serve a purpose! I fought for my people!" She insisted "He doesn't believe in anything other than himself! I lived by a strict belief in a future for my people, a belief that you wouldn't understand."

"Apparently you ain't believing in it enough to die for it."

That made Bebe go wide-eyed "And what is that supposed to mean?!"

"Well it's just that you survived in me brother's tower by following all orders given to you, same with ya Uruk pal. I know how my brother works, and from what I seen I can tell you right now that a number of Faunus-folk who end up there die due to their rigid defiance in the name of their beliefs. I ain't saying you's not faithful to ya beliefs, but you ain't nowhere near as faithful as them Martyrs, buddy."

"A-are you trying to say that I'm like him?"

"No no, just that you two ain't as different as you clearly wish to believe." Krimp raised his hands innocently

"But he's a coward! He just takes from the dead and sides with whoever helps him live longer! He's got no devotion, no willingness to fight for someone else!"

"Call me crazy, but ain't we already established that ya left him hanging? Just like he would?"

"Why are you pushing this?!" Bebe demanded

"Because you are having problems with a concept, lass. And I know that giving a concept a physical manifestation to channel ya negatives towards is easier than taking it on in your mind, especially in one as prone to lapses in judgment as yours is." Krimp stated immediately before standing tall and stretching "Now then, how exactly are you different from this lowlife friend of yours?"

"Well for one," Bebe raised a finger "he's an Uruk!"

"I thought the White Fang was all about teaching folk to see other species as equals?" the Uruk countered "Now how can you possibly stand by such a belief if you's all too willing to throw it away to benefit ya'self?"

The Faunus stammered "He's a murderer! He's probably killed dozens of people, and picked though their remains!"

"They say that standing by something that requires the deaths of innocents is almost as bad as being complicit in those deaths ya'self. A tark concept but one that many believe in. You seem to value the White Fang even though I hear non-stop stories of their actions resulting in plenty of deaths every other week."

"We only kill racists who can't see us as equals!"

"Just last week I hear a contingent out in the wilds shut down a dust expedition which led to dozens of civilians being crushed in a cave-in."

"They were probably going to associate with Schnees! Its different!"

"You've got a lotta excuses, lassie. I'll give ya that!" Krimp giggled before shaking his head "But it's no wonder you's been beating yourself up so hard about this when you've got such flimsy support!"

The Uruk's giggling shifted into silent laughter as Bebe trembled with anger. She didn't care how good his hugs were, how dare this tub of lard go about calling her devotion to the White Fang flimsy! He was comparing her to that bastard who dressed in the clothes of her fallen allies, who would waste no time leaving her behind if it meant he would survive. She wasn't like him, should never even be considered in the same league as him. But if her beliefs, her ideals weren't enough to convince this childish asshole then what would!?

She hated hearing him talk like this, where every word was another comparison that raked at her heart. She'd never do the things he did, she'd never steal things from the corpses of her enemies, would never run away instead of helping her fellow White Fang members in their time of need. But despite those facts being prevalent, the smile on Krimp's face challenged her to use them... and she faltered.

So quickly he managed to throw doubt on her previous statements, the fear of him doing the same to these was palpable. She wanted to believe in her convictions, but with holes being poked in them like this then what would remain?

She couldn't believe that such struggle could've been birthed from a little bit of guilt, that sickening guilt that had been building despite her understandings that it had been misplaced. She could've avoided this damn conversation if she'd just kept her big mouth shut. If she'd just ignored her feelings and focused on the task at hand, if she would just stop feeling terrible for something she knew he would never-

Bebe blinked at that "He would never feel that way."

Krimp's smile grew upon hearing that "Hm?"

The Faunus looked up at him "That's what makes me different from him, he would never feel any remorse for abandoning me... I did."

"There ya go!" Krimp clapped "I was so worried for a moment there, you seemed so convinced that feeling bad for what you did was a bad thing. I found it so strange, usually tarks insist that feeling in the dumps after letting someone suffer without their aid was natural. You must'a been hanging around us for far too long if you believed that ta be bad."

Though she hated to admit it after the verbal tongue lashing he'd put her through, he was right. She'd kept trying to rid herself of these feelings, kept trying to deny them at every turn. But really, those emotions were what firmly set her apart from someone like Uthug. It was the right thing to feel after what she did. He may have been an asshole all the way through, but she didn't have to leave him there. And she would just have to except that.

"Now then." Krimp walked back over to the trunk and sat down as he patted it "Mind finishing your tale?"

"Not much else to say really," Bebe took a seat on the trunk once more as she recalled the last events between the Desert and Ogthrak's Club "I left him and tried escaping the Tower while everyone was in a panic. But that Uruk in the Lab coat nabbed me."

"Ratlug is quite the perceptive one."

"He caught me and brought me to his boss, that Shaman guy. But before they left Uthug showed up."

"Wait, so you did see him after the whole mess with Tuka?"

"Right, and he was angry don't get me wrong. But," Bebe paused "he was also different. Something seemed wrong with him. He kept speaking with this completely different voice and acting weird, even for him. The Storm guys that were escorting me said odd things about him too, about how he wasn't Uthug or something."

Krimp tilted his head at that, but remained silent.

"They kept talking about how he was fighting more than the others even though he just let them drag him around. Weird stuff like that. How his semblance affected people differently, and I thought Uthug never tried finding his semblance. They kept calling him Ghundza for some-"

"Wait!" Krimp suddenly shot off the ground and raised a finger with glee "I actually met the bloke!"

Bebe had moved back at his sudden interruption, but his words quickly made her narrow her gaze "What? But I thought you had me talk about him because you never met him before?"

"Stolen White Fang gear ain't too uncommon among Uruks so I didn't want to make assumptions. But if he was with Gundza then... did he have a musket?"

"Yes!"

"Well why didn't you tell me before? Only one Uruk I can think of who's walking around with a musket, unless you know many others who wield it?"

"No just-" Bebe shook her head "Wait, do you know what happened to him? What was wrong with him? Do you know why they kept calling him that name?"

"Easy there buddy." Krimp raised a hand "One at a time. See, Gundza's this other Uruk who has a semblance that lets him kinda possess people. I knew it was ya pal because I saw them on a train! After getting hurt really badly I was gonna use it to come here, but I never expected a fight to break out on top of it. Now I might've had a portion of me head crushed at the time, but I clearly remember seeing your friend there after he had gotten pretty beat up."

"Wait, what was that about having a crushed head?"

"But don't you worry none!" Krimp ignored her question and wrapped an arm around her "Pretty sure he got arrested, but he sure was alive last time I spotted him."

"Wait, if he was arrested then that would mean..." Bebe blinked "He's on the Arceus?!"

"Probably!" Krimp cheered

Then it was even worst than she feared. She'd seen the announcements, Atlas going on and on about how their glorious new prison would be able to hold as many Uruks as it would need to. How none of its inhabitants would be able to terrorize the populace again. But Bebe knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that Atlas was full of shit. Those Schnee-loving sociopaths couldn't be trusted worth a damn, and if they kept talking about how great their prison ship was then no doubt they were conducting horifying experiments on the inhabitants. No doubt trying to figure out how best to utilize them against the Faunus people.

If Uthug was really trapped there, Bebe could only imagine what soul-breaking suffering he must going through. And watching as Krimp continued cheering at that news immediately made her anger flare up again.

"What the hell are you smiling at, this is horrible!" She yelled at him "He could be getting tortured or mauled on that death trap."

"Even then, it sounds like just the thing he needs!" Krimp shrugged

"How can you say that?! Look, I know I like to talk shit about the guy. I know that. But nobody deserves to be at the mercy of Atlas."

"Listen pal, from how you've been describing him, your friend would probably benefit the most by being put in a place where he can't run away from potential danger. Uruks like him need to face it head on in order to unlock their true potential."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've been around long enough to meet all types of Uruks, so trust me when I say that your friend sound alot like a Berserker."

"What, you mean like Tuka?"

"No no, that's just what the lads in certain areas call 'em. A true berserker don't got no specific type of weapons, just a specific type of mindset: An inexplicably passionate hatred for almost everything they come across. A hatred that allows them to be nearly unrivaled in combat, makes them ignore wounds and fight with the strength of a Graug. They's a dangerous bunch, because in their frenzied state they even tear apart allies. But when you want to throw a single Uruk into a mass of enemies, its always the Berserkers who do the most damage."

"Seriously?" Bebe was not impressed "You guys get angry all the time! In fact, I don't think I've met an Uruk who wasn't pissed off about something stupid... except you of course."

"That? Oh that's just how we Uruks are naturally. We's been designed to live for combat! Its easy for us to hate things, takes a lot of time and hugs to get as jolly as me lassie! But that's not comparable to what you Tarks consider as rage. We Uruks are easy to rile, yes, but to tap into the Old Rage it needs to get personal. The Old Rage makes us into unstoppable machines on the battlefield, but it ain't easy to get to. For example, that Lad Ratlug taps into his Rage when he tastes some particularly intriguing blood."

"The dude in the Labcoat?"

"Yes! Give him a lick of that good stuff and suddenly silly concepts like damage and exhaustion don't even exist to him! And another friend of mine named Skak has this really adorable affection for his axe, that's a best friend he'd do almost anything for! So when he feels he's depriving that friend of the blood it so desires, he gets enraged real nice and quick!"

"So the key to getting angry monsters like you to be even more deadly is to just make them... angrier?"

"Well if ya want to say it in simple ways, then you's right buddy!" Krimp gave a giggle at that before calming himself down "And that's the thing about Berserkers. Its not that they get angry easily, its that they take things personally really easy. Something that might anger a regular Uruk is seen as a slight so egregious that any reason for the culprit's existence is nullified immediately. Think about it, a rage so great and primal that no price is too great for destroying its target. I've heard some stories from my elders and some claim that not even the Uruks of old can lay claim to hatred that deep!"

"And you think that's Uthug? Please, the guy runs from everything, he's a total coward! You throw him in the middle of a bunch of enemies and they'll get easy pickings."

"You ever seen him get thrown into a mass of enemies?"

"No, but that's just because he'd never willingly get himself into that situation."

"Exactly, a couple of the Berserkers I knew never realized their penchant for pain-dealing until they were up against significant odds they wouldn't survive otherwise. Your friend never got to that point because he's never been put in a situation he felt he couldn't just sneak away from. Fear like that don't make a Berserker, he's too cautious for his own good. Which is why the Arceus seems like the perfect place for him. Put him in a situation where all that caution and fear means nothing, and I'm sure its just a manner of time before he's letting loose to the rage within!"

"But he's Uthug! I know I haven't known him for long, and I know that he's exceptionally hateful, but even if this crackpot theory of yours is right there's no way he's going to just stop being a cowardly looter."

"I saw the way you began freaking out once I mentioned the Arceus." Krimp leaned toward her with a smirk "And this is something I think we's can both agree on. It ain't as safe as our pals in Atlas want us to believe."

His smile grew wide as he held back a giggle "And if that's true, then trust me when I say that it's only a matter of time."

---

"Who the Shrakh taught you to set a brace?" Kurgo grumbled as he felt the wooden contraption tighten around his broken arm

"Nobody," the Caterer next to him rolled his eyes before taking a swig of something on a nearby counter and returning to his work "so stop moving or this is gonna feel even worst than it is"

All around them were the sounds of blades and meat, the usual sound of a Caterer outpost like this. Right before his eyes he could see an Uruk skinning a body which dangled from a chain, the skinner tossed the skin away for later repurposing before looking over the carcass to see if he'd missed any spots.

Seeing that he had finished his task, the Skinner tossed his blade away before moving over to another chain hanging down from the ceiling and taking hold. With a single tug a mechanism activated which dragged the carcass up to the second floor of their outpost where it would be properly de-boned and shipped off to Caterer installations across the Arceus to fuel their efforts. Once the Carcass had been taken off its hook by the boys upstairs, they tossed said hook back down for the next one to be strung up. Seeing his cue, the Skinner moved to seek out the next body which needed his attention.

Kurgo frowned at this, so much effort and grunts like this still didn't know what they were fighting for. On one hand he pitied his more dim-witted brothers for their simpleness, but on the other hand this nonchalant acceptance of the lies they'd been told was what made them so good for grunt work like this.

His thoughts were interrupted as he hissed again as the brace around his arm was tightened in yet another excruciating manner, but he was an Uruk. He would stomach pain far greater than this.

"Now don't go throwing yourself into battle too soon." The Caterer who had been attending to him stood and patted him on his good shoulder "We heal quickly but that doesn't mean you can go ruining my work."

"Noted." Kurgo said as he stood "Wasn't planning on moving to the Training Arena for a few days anyway."

The Caterer shrugged before turning and walking away "But why'd ya come here first? Wound like yours would've healed quicker if you'd taken it to one of our Scouts first."

"You think I'd trust one of those Mongrels with a broken arm?" Kurgo asked as he followed behind him

"You don't even trust me with it."

"Exactly."

He had been getting tended to behind a staircase, much smaller than the ones in the more central areas of the Arceus but still big enough to let multiple Uruks ascend and descend comfortably. This place was more used for cutting up any meals they found wandering about, not dealing with wounded. They didn't want him getting in the way of their output, which he could respect in some ways.

They truly were like a well oiled machine, even now he could see the Skinner from earlier dragging a corpse back over to his skinning station. Two guards were standing near the main entrance, which was nowhere near as fortified as he would've liked. Hell, the guards were chatting up a storm rather than staying at attention like they should be. He knew the whole point of this front was that they were supposed to blend in with the destroyed locales around them, but some more metal bars wouldn't hurt anybody. Then again, they probably got cocky because of the admittedly well defensive armament they got set up outside. Speaking of which...

"Are you sure you're allowed to be this far from your post?" Kurgo asked as they drew near the staircase "You're supposed to be manning that ramshackle piece of garbage you guys seemed determined to label as a launcher."

"The Wretch's followers haven't tried scouting around here since their fourth party went missing," the Defender commented as they began to ascend "and even if they did get ballsy again we'd hear 'em a mile off what with that gaudy armor of theirs."

"But even then," once they got to the top Kurgo moved in front of the Caterer "letting yourselves get so careless when-"

"Move it!"

Kurgo suddenly had to jump out of the way of another Caterer as he wheeled a cart loaded with blades and meat-working tools right by, muttering curses about him the entire time.

"Trust me, lad." The Defender said after snickering at his comrade's misfortune "Ain't nothing going to-"

"We's got him! We's got the Wretch!"

Kurgo and the Defender both paused and glanced back down as the front entrance opened and five Uruks walked in carrying a bound Uruk that none had expected to see. Before either could even try to comment a rather small Uruk with pale skin rushed past them and down the stairs taking them two at a time.

"You got him!? Got him well and truly?" That particular Uruk asked hopefully before skidding to a stop when the Bound Uruk turned his disease riddled form towards him.

"Ah! There you are my little meat pie, got ya invitation all nice and memorized!" Bubol cooed before licking his lips "Did you get all gussied up for me, darling? Don't worry, you share just enough of her beauty to get me going no matter the attire!"

The lanky Uruk before him immediately began growling "You're gonna suffer for what you've done to all of us, Wretch, for what you did to my Blood-Brother!"

"Must've been a phase when I warmed his insides with my presence!" Bubol snickered before writhing in his binds "I would've remembered him if he had the same smooth pale skin like you's! Having one copy of her is good, two of her would be far more than I could handle!"

"He didn't even look like an Uruk when we found him!" if Kurgo was honest, it sounded like the little guy was close to tears "And I- I just-"

"Look, we need to get him prepped to send to the boss." one of the Uruks holding Bubol called out with a groan as the Lunatic thrashed in his bindings with laughter "So if ya don't mind getting out of the way."

"No!" the Pale Uruk spat "Let me cut him up first, the boss can have fun with whatever's left afterwards!"

The carriers seemed to argue for a moment, before apparently settling their dispute on the fact that there was no bonus for bringing Bubol back alive. And so they began carrying the cackling maniac off to a side room on the first floor where the Pale one could hopefully take his revenge.

But Kurgo was simply stunned, so much fighting apparently done with just like that. He'd been so focused on making sure Bubol eventually died in this conflict that he didn't really think about what could come next.

"Looks like they nabbed him." the Caterer Defender at his sighed said nonchalantly as he continued walking, taking a left at the edge of the stairs and heading towards a doorway which led to a balcony right outside the establishment.

"How could you say things so nonchalantly!?" Kurgo hurried to catch up "this means the entire fucking battle against his underlings will be over! Do you know what that monster's done to his own kind, how many Uruks he's left suffer just for a couple jollies? He'll finally be brought to justice."

"I was never fighting for any of that anyway."

As Kurgo followed him out to the balcony, he spotted it: A ramshackle, crank-operated crossbow-type armament was set up on the railing at the edge of the balcony. It was apparently supposed to launch sharpened metal fragments fast enough to mulch any whelps who decided to come snooping around. Kurgo had heard that this was how they took care of the Wretch's scouting parties, that hideous armor of theirs keeping them from running from its volley until it was too late.

Kurgo gave a look at the machine, he had no idea how much stock to put into the stories, but the mess of metal and reworking before him didn't look as if it could fling a plate without falling apart.

The Caterer operating it didn't seem to think so, as he saddled up to it and took hold of its crank with a chuckle "This is what its all about, getting something deadly in my hands and putting it to work."

"But we have the Wretch, no more having to fight those poor fools he's tricked into following him! No more-!"

"I could care less about that." the Caterer sneered "I only hooked up with this lot for the meat and the killing, only thing an Uruk should need really. You gobs can go worrying about reasons all ya want, long as there's some poor sod who needs tearing apart ya don't have to worry about..."

Kurgo raised an eyebrow as the Defender went silent, glancing past the armament to the large open area beyond their hideout. His eyes seemed to scan the rows of unfinished shops across from them, a growl under his breath.

"What it is it?" Kurgo asked

"Hm, thought I saw something."

He had, for across from them on a lower floor an Uruk was crouched behind railing, hoping that he hadn't been spotted.

Sloppy, so very sloppy.

Uthug resisted the urge to groan as Gundza chastised him for his less than stellar sneaking abilities.

Whatever, we found the place. Now can we please go tell those idiots back there and be done?

Are you mad? This is a grand opportunity to gain the respect of those lazy metal-loving luggards and establish ourselves above them. We'll tell them, and with my help you'll lead a full scale assault on this pitiful installation.

What? You must have me confused with someone who enjoys leading idiots. I barely have the patience to interact with Bubol's cronies let alone get them to listen to me. Besides, why the shrahk would we assault the place? Aren't they holding our "Leader" prisoner in there?

Exactly why we'll have to disable their defenses with a more stealthy approach, we both saw that odd contraption they have set up there. From the pock marks on the ground between us I'm working on the assumption that its a formidable defensive installation. We'll need to scale the wall and disable it before our forces would have a hope in hell to reach the actual building. After that we need to extract Bubol before those maniacs have a chance to cripple or kill him, then the rest will rush in en mass and chop these pissants to pieces!

Weren't you just lecturing me about how terrible my stealth is? How exactly do you plan for me to pull off all of that?

Well for someone like you it would be practically impossible, but I on the other hand...

No.

I'm afraid that if we are to keep Bubol from getting axed off you have no choice but to allow me to take control, only long enough to disable the armament and retrieve our unfortunate comrade. After that I'll actually require you to take over as the plan requires you to give orders to-

NO! No plans, damn it.

Uthug could practically feel Gundza growling inside his head, but before the Shadow could make his distaste known they both noticed the sound of approaching footsteps from a nearby hall.

Uthug prepared to dart away, pausing only when he saw that it was Galkar, armor clanking loudly as he turned the corner and spotted them "Oi! There you-!"

The Looter slapped his hand over the Uruk's mouth and dragged him back around the corner as fast as possible.

"Shut it!" he hissed "They got eyes out there, that damn armor of yours is gonna give us away!"

Galkar eventually stopped struggling, though continued mumbling his agitations until Uthug removed his hand "This how ya treat me?" he whispered "I'll have you know I was the only bloke willing to help you, the rest of them maggots was convinced you was crazy for looking on your own. But look at you, ya found it!"

"Shh!" Uthug raised a finger to his lips, prompting the Crewmate to lower his voice again.

"So, what's the plan?"

"No plan." Uthug insisted immediately

Yes plan! I may not have gleamed the full story about what happened between you and the Plan-Maker, but this aversion to coordination and forethought is going to get the both of us killed! You need to stop being stubborn and simply listen to your superiors when they try to aid you.

"No plan? So are we just gonna leave him here?" Galkar asked as he lifted his helmet just enough to see better "That sounds like a shrahk idea."

See? Even a chiefless halfwit like him can appreciate a good bit of planning.

"We are not... making... a plan..." Uthug growled as he dug his nails into the ground beside him, he could start feeling his head aching from having to deal with both the internal and external voices at the same time

"But he's gonna die if you don't! We need him!"

He's right you sniveling little grub! The longer you spend having this sickening little episode is less time Bubol has to live, and if you ever wish to become more than just a cowardly little runt then you absolutely need to suck it up and listen to me!

No.

"And if he's dead, there ain't nobody strong enough to keep those slaughterers from attacking us full force!

You'll be stuck on this ship till those tarks get bored watching you flounder like an aimless fish! What happened to the glob who seemed so disgustingly obsessed with staying in the background that he was more than willing to provide aid to the lunatic and underlings to return to the life he once had? Well here you are being called upon to offer that aid! Aid that you cannot provide without... a fucking... plan!

No!

"We'll all be turned into minced meats and bone armor! I always thought I'd be taken out in a drinking contest, this can't be happening!"

For the last time, stop being such a cur about it and start acting like an Uruk. I don't care what you like or hate because those don't properly apply to the facts of this situation, but here's a fact you seem dead set on ignoring:

WE... NEED... A...PLAN!

"NO!" Uthug roared before smashing his fist into the nearest thing possible, which just so happened to be Galkar's face. The Crewmate slammed onto his back after being thrown by the punch, cursing all the way as the Looter rose.

"Agh! Ya got me right in the nose ya shrahking loon!" Galkar griped

And now you've got him screaming too, if they weren't aware of us before they definitely are now. Congratulations, yet another thing you've ruined with your-

"I'm going to get him." Uthug snapped

"Wait what?" Galkar pulled his hands from his face to look up at the Scavenger in surprise.

Wait... WHAT?!

"Problem is that we need him." Uthug growled "I'm going to get him!"

B-but, we haven't gone over our plan-

"NO PLANS! I'm just gonna do it!" Uthug snarled

Galkar looked around at his proclamation for a moment before asking "Seriously?"

HOW!? You're going from point A to point B without thinking of what goes in-between. You can't just-! Where are you going?

"To get him!" the Looter spat as he turned the corner and approached the railing once more

Wait, stop! You're walking right into that thing's line of sight!

Indeed at that moment both Kurgo and the Caterer manning the armament spotted movement below, with the Operator snickering as he grabbed hold of the crank "Heh! There it is! Looks like one of the other Inmates, its slim pickings for sure but I can-"

Suddenly the figure below released a primal roar before leaping over the railing and charging straight towards the front door, feet tearing across the floor with reckless abandon.

.{{{{{+-+}}}}}.

The two Caterers who were supposed to be keeping watch near the front door halted their conversation the second they heard the roar.

"What wuz 'at?" one asked while the second drew his cleaver

"Sounded like one o' the Broken, think one of them found his way out of the depths?"

Before the first could answer the sound of shrapnel being flung at high speeds soon reached them, the second Caterer immediately turned to the door and approached it while the first shook his head.

"Nah, the guy upstairs wouldn't be wasting them metal chunks on a Broken, not up here. Maybe one of them unaffiliated cowards decided to come scout-"

"Shh, you hear that?" the second one asked as he leaned towards the door

"The Screaming or the shooting?"

"No, sounds more like-" his eyes suddenly went wide as he tried backpedaling away from the door "-Footste-!"

Uthug slammed into the door with enough force to tear it off its hinges and bringing it down upon the Caterer who had to fight to keep from being crushed under it.

Dear sweet Lord what have you done?! You just ran straight into an enemy stronghold! You got glanced by that damned thing too! We don't have enough aura you fucking lunatic! We need to leave right-

Uthug tuned Gundza out as he looked up to see a Caterer stepping back whilst simultaneously pulling a butcher's knife from a strap on his chest. The Looter wasted no time in flinging himself towards him and sending his fist into the back of the blade, causing it to sink into its owner's chest part way.

The Caterer roared as he swung with his other arm,only managing to get it locked in Uthug's grasp before he was hurled on top of the fallen door and his comrade partially trapped beneath it.

"Get off ya glob! Can't get me arm-" the pinned Uruk was silenced when Uthug's foot came down hard on his throat and his shouts turned to chokes for air.

The remaining Caterer finally tore his own blade from his chest and swiped at the Looter, who backed out of his range twice before latching onto his hand and sending his knee up into the bottom of the Uruk's jaw. He stumbled, but Uthug was on him in the blink of eye. Wrapping both hands around the Caterer's head, Uthug smashed his knee into it about six more times before the Uruk stopped moving.

As Uthug tossed him away, he was aware of the sound of pounding footsteps and turned to see about seven more Caterers charging down the stairs towards him.

Outnumbered and outgunned with no indication of backup! And for what!? Just to spite some dead glob?! Of all the things that could end up getting me killed this-!

The Shadow's complaints were annoying, but then again so was this entire scenario. The fact that he had to clean up for an incompetent mad Uruk's blunder just so his incompetent soldiers didn't get themselves killed by slightly less incompetent yet exponentially more idiotic soldiers was absolute shrahk. He just wanted it over so he could go lie down somewhere and pretend like he wasn't the universe's punching bag for just a second. And getting this over with meant getting Bubol back, which meant not letting Gundza's incessant worries distract him. Just like he wasn't letting the ache of several blunted hits from that damned armament slow him down.

Just stay focused on the now.

It was that very focus which let him hear the sound of something incoming and lunge back as a thrown blade spun by. His head snapped to an Uruk with a skinning sword picking up several blades from a cart with his good hand, Uthug ran at him without hesitation.

The Skinner's blade passed by him several times before his shoulder nudged something and the Looter turned to see an unoccupied hook which led to the second floor. Uthug narrowed his eyes at it before spinning under another swing of the Skinner's sword and slamming his leg into the Uruk's side. With a roar the Cater spun back only for Uthug's skull to sail into his face. In that single moment where the Skinner tried to shake off the attack, Uthug took hold of the Uruk's sides and flung him backwards onto the hook.

Releasing a yell as the metal dug into him, the Skinner swung his sword wildly whilst trying to pull himself off. Uthug glanced back to see the seven or so Caterers from earlier vaulting over furnishings or shoving each other out of the way as they raced towards him, and snarled before leaping onto the Skinner.

Still stuck on the hook, the Skinner swung back and slammed into the other chain behind him. After several clicks of something disengaging, he and Uthug began ascending to the second floor.

"Get back here ya glob!" one of the Caterers below shouted before another one pointed back towards the stairs.

One of the Skinner's arms shot up to the chain attached to the hook, holding tightly to keep said hook from pulling up through his torso. But that did nothing for Uthug, who wrapped his legs around the Skinner and reaching up to catch his sword-arm mid swing.

After slamming his head into the Skinner's several times, the Caterer's hold on his sword loosened enough to where Uthug could pry it from his hands.

The Looter wasted no time in returning it to its owner by plunging deep into his chest. The Skinner's free hand went to the handle of the blade immediately as his yelling was interrupted by blood from a punctured and probably shredded lung. His yelling was becoming annoying to the Looter, who already had so many other tiny annoyances to deal with.

And so Uthug reared back with his one free hand before plunging two fingers straight through the Skinner's eyes.

There was a gasp from behind him, and Uthug glanced back with a snarl to see that they'd made it to the second floor. A Caterer spotted them rising and immediately pointed them out to another who had apparently been surveying the ground floor by looking over some rails.

Seeing them both immediately go for their weapons made the Looter snarl as he hooked his fingers into the meat of the Skinner's skull before yanking a portion of his face off and launching from him to the closest Caterer below.

Though the Uruk had pulled his cleaver free, the flying fist to the side off his jaw sent him stumbling away before he could get a swing in. The Caterer closer to the railing stepped past his comrade and lunged at Uthug only for the Scavenger to go low and ram his shoulder into his gut whilst wrapping his arms around him. With a bull rush, he launched the Caterer over the railing and watched him sail down into one of the others who had been making for the stairs.

The sound of a groan beside him brought his attention to the one Uruk he'd decked mere seconds and in an instant he lunged for him. The Caterer saw him coming and took hold of a nearby table before launching it at him as he backed up.

Uthug ducked under the piece of furniture and slid past the incoming blade before taking hold of the Caterer's arm and yanking him to the floor whilst trying to pry the weapon from his hand. Unlike the Skinner, this Caterer didn't have a hook in him whittling away at his strength, and he quickly began trying to rise until Uthug slammed a foot onto his chest to keep him down. The two struggled, with the pinned Uruk reaching up and digging his claws into the Looter's leg to get him to relent.

We don't have enough Aura you thick-headed bastard! Release him before we have even less defense than we already-!

The Caterer let out a sudden yell as Uthug bent down and dug his teeth into the meat of his hand, sinking his maw as deep as he could before wrenching back and tearing a chunk from him.

"Get him off! Get him off!" the Caterer cried to his comrades as the Scavenger repeated the process "By the Dark Shrahking Lord get him off!"

Uthug gnawed off several fingers until there just wasn't enough left to keep hold of the cleaver, and finally yanked it free. Its owner slumped over and rolled onto his knees as he tried stemming the blood flowing from his now mutilated limb. But before he could shuffle up a yell brought his attention up just in time to catch his own cleaver between the eyes.

Uthug took hold of his head before he could slump back "Make me taste ya putrid blood will you?!" he snarled before pulling the blade free and chopping into his head several times. Finally he took hold of the cleaver's handle with his mouth and stuffed his fingers into the grisly remains of the Caterer's face before yanking what was left apart.

In the spray of black blood and sinew, the Frenzied Uruk could see the other Caterers nearly upon him "Get around him! Don't give him an avenue for escape!"

Uthug took hold of the destroyed remnants of the Uruk's head and used his other hand to grab hold of his side before hoisting the carcass up and launching it towards the attackers as he glanced around for something he could use.

Down below, the Caterer who had been thrown from the second floor was helping the Uruk he'd landed on.

"Heavy sack of Shrahk!" the momentarily downed Uruk grunted as he rubbed at his chest "Think ya cracked a damned rib!"

"It wasn't me! That lunatic came at me with-"

He couldn't finish, for at that moment a metal and wood stool sailed into him from the second floor.

The Downed Uruk flopped back to the ground and watched as the other Caterer rolled away from the impact, he grimaced before looking up just as Uthug crashed down into him.

The Looter struggled a bit from the landing, pausing when he noticed a gasping Caterer beneath him.

Are you actively trying get us killed?! What if you missed that landing, a broken ankle would leave us as sitting ducks! You can't just ignore me god damn it! Uthug?! Uthug for God's sakes you have to slow down before we both get bled!

Uthug stood up atop the struggling Caterer and looked up to spot the Stool he'd thrown earlier next to another downed Uruk. He started walking, pausing only to jump and smash the head of the Uruk below him.

The other Caterer rolled onto his knees and drew what seemed to be a hack saw from his belt, he swung at Uthug, who slid past him and reached for the stool as his quarry followed.

With a quick lurch the stool went sailing into the Caterer's head, sending him stumbling back as he swung the saw wildly. Uthug deflected the swings using the stool before swinging the piece of furniture into his side, before the Caterer could recover the entire seat of the chair slammed into his gut and brought him to a knee. With both hands Uthug brought the stool over his head and caved in the Caterer's skull with the seat.

It was only when that Uruk slumped to the side with the stool still stuck in his head that Uthug became aware of the footsteps surrounding him.

Looking up, he found that the pack of Caterers from upstairs had maneuvered around him while he was busy brutalizing their colleagues.

"Nowhere to run to now, Wretch boy!" one shouted as he tapped the tip of a fairly lengthy fire poker to the ground "We's gonna come at you all at once!"

Now what genius? You got lucky up until now, but we're cornered! How exactly do you plan to-

"No plans." Uthug grunted through the handle in his teeth before finally taking the cleaver from his mouth

This was just getting ridiculous, Gundza had anticipated a chiefless imbecile like Uthug to be averse to his command but not to a suicidal margin. Watching him charge into the fray with such reckless abandon had caused a pit to form in the Assassin. He hadn't anticipated the Looter's hate for tactical forethought to be so great as to encourage him to forego his own cowardly tendencies. While some would say it was a good thing for him to finally transcend his fears there was absolutely no way that Gundza could consider this as an improvement. How the Shrahk were they supposed to help Bubol win this little war of his if his host would rather die in some frenzied charge than take even a second to consider the benefits of a plan?!

Gundza was not about to just sit back and let him do whatever he pleased, the Scavenger had proven to hold a sea of tumultuous hate for everything around him. That sea had proven simply too much for the assassin, but maybe while Uthug was preoccupied like this he could make some headway. Tentatively, Gundza began reaching, trying to take control of the Uruk's movements once more, only to immediately recoil back.

What... what is this?!

It wasn't the sickening sea of hatred he'd anticipated, the moment Gundza tried spreading his control it felt as if he'd been seared by flames! It was as if someone had set that disgusting sea on fire, the poisonous thoughts igniting like gasoline creating what could be thought of as a continuous explosion inside the Looter.

"Annoying!" Uthug barked as his eyes darted between the Caterers "Annoyances! All of you! Only one way to deal with annoyances! Cull them like the worthless filth they are!"

Gundza braced himself as the Looter once more forewent thinking and simply launched himself towards the closest Uruk, as the Caterers acted in kind.

.{{{{{+-+}}}}}.

"Sounds pretty fun out there." Bubol cooed as he listened to the sounds of screams and bloodshed coming from the door.

"Shut up." his captor bit as he looked over a pile of tools on a nearby counter.

The room they were in was one of two that Bubol was convinced were supposed to be bathrooms. If the two partially built stalls in the corner and the broken mirror were anything to go off of. His captor had been ready and rearing to go, only to be interrupted when the screams started outside. Since then it seems like he'd been debating with himself over how to proceed, which had honestly started to bore the Uruk bound to a chair in the center of the room.

"Aw come now, lad. Chin up! I'm apparently the monster who ruined your brother, and you've got me in a classic victim scenario here."

"Don't even try to act like you could ever be considered a victim!" the Caterer shouted "You just ruin lives wherever you go and have the gal to act like its some kind of joke! I mean, just look at this!"

He reached to the counter and picked up what looked to be a handmade slingshot.

"Oh! I was wondering what you lot did with that." Bubol shook his head with a snicker "The glob who nicked it from me when they grabbed me didn't seem like the sharing type, glad to see I was wrong."

"Even now you play around with toys while destroying honorable soldiers and reducing them to... to..."

"First off I'll have you know that ain't a toy, my sweet, I'm just using it till I can find where them tarks put me bow. And secondly, its not fair for you to look that cute when thinking about traumatic memories."

Despite the incoming punch sending Bubol and the chair to the floor, the Archer couldn't help but laugh as he looked up at the Caterer "And now tears?! How is this fair!? They frame those succulent cheeks too damn well!"

The Caterer didn't bother to wipe the moisture from his face as he let the slingshot fall to the ground "My blood brother fought in so many battles, served the Dark Lord grandly for decades all while trying to help me improve despite my weaknesses! He took pity on me despite my stature, even when it made him seem weak to the others!"

"Sounds like such a great guy!" Bubol managed to get out between the laughs

"But when we got him back from you, the only thing he could do was choke on those damn growths! He couldn't even move anymore by the time your filthy disease ran its course!"

"I'm sure it was a hell of a time," Bubol cooed as he leaned up to smile at the Caterer "even though its still slipping the 'ol memory. But I guess I'm feeling all kinds of bad right now. If he was anywhere as cute as you I probably should've saved him, having two delicious little morsels like you in one room might be even more than I could take!"

The Archer's cackling was interrupted when the Caterer's foot met his face, though he was quick to start back up once his Aura was finished soaking it up "Come on! Hit harder damn you! If she were here I know I could've gotten her to beat me twice as hard with only half the effort!"

Eyes twitching from his barely contained rage, the Caterer made his way to the tools and picked several up as he turned back on the Diseased Uruk "Oh don't you worry, I'm just getting started."

Bubol smirked at that as his eyes landed on the discarded slingshot, grin widening as the Caterer approached "I'm sure you are."

.{{{{{+-+}}}}}.

Kurgo and the Armament Operator came to a stop near some railings as they looked down at the carnage below. The battle on the first floor had once more spread up the stairs once more, indicated by about four new corpses now decorating the steps with their innards.

"This is ridiculous! Its just one glob!" Kurgo stammered as his eyes locked onto the single assailant currently contesting with the last few Caterers at a large open area at the top of the stairs "Wait... that looks like the Newblood who broke my arm! The Shrahk is he doing here?!"

"Who cares?!" the Operator snickered "Looks like he brought a hell of a fight with him! I'm gonna get me spinning saw!"

"Wait!" Kurgo called out, but the Caterer was already running off before he could try and stop him. Kurgo swallowed nervously and turned back just in time to see the assailant put his fist through another one of his comrades. At this rate he might actually take this outpost all on his own, and if that happened then Bubol would be let free to run rampant once more.

He couldn't let that happen, too much was at stake! But with how easily the Newblood was tearing through his comrades, what could he do with only one good arm? He tried moving his braced arm only to wince as the mechanism kept his broken bone from shifting out of place too much. But as he looked down at it with a miserable grumble, he spotted something. One of the blade carts that they used to move their meat-working tools around. Slowly his eyes wandered from that to the doorway which led to the balcony where the armament was.

As a plan formed in his head, Uthug was just finishing up with the last member of that pack who had attacked him. After seeing his comrades get torn apart, the last Caterer took a much less offensive approach as he dodged the wild swings of the Looter's stolen stool, which was now caked in several layers of black blood.

Annoyed by his quarry's dodgy antics, Uthug released another yell before launching the stool at him, which he ducked under just in time to catch a kick to the jaw which sent him stumbling. Realizing he'd been caught, the Caterer swung his knife wildly while regaining his footing, but before he could steady his stance Uthug stepped past his knife and swung his own cleaver which sliced through both of the Caterer's eyes and made him stumble back with a shriek as he raised a hand to his face.

"My eyes!" he cried out as Uthug walked past him, the sound of footsteps making the newly blinded Uruk swing his knife wildly in their direction "Damn it! Damn you! Damned Shrahk!"

Uthug meanwhile dropped his cleaver and picked up the stool he had been using earlier. With the Caterer now blind, Uthug walked close and raised the stool while being mindful of the blade "Much better." he commented before swinging the seat into the side of the Uruk's face and sending him to the ground in a spray of blood and teeth.

With no immediate threats in sight, Uthug released a breath as he began casting his glare around the corpse filled room, "Now... where the hell is that perverted-?"

"Not yet big guy!" a voice called out from behind him as the sound of a moving blade reached his ear.

Uthug lunged forward just as another Caterer lunged forth with what looked like a long pipe with a jury-rigged saw attached to the top.

"Come on! Give me a good fight, damn it!" the Caterer cackled as he kicked away the corpse of his comrade whilst approaching "Blood and guts! Blades and pain! An Uruk only needs to rip and tear!"

With that the saw on the end of his pipe began spinning as he picked up speed.

Now Uthug, I know you've been getting extraordinarily lucky lately. And idiots who think they have the mental capacity to understand their surroundings often associate luck to them being actually capable. Unfortunately for both of us, I'm fairly certain just one touch of a weapon like that will be enough to tear what minuscule amount of aura we have left. So how about you drop this act and-

"Just another annoyance!" Uthug roared as he rushed to meet the Caterer head on.

I'm starting to wonder why I'm still even trying. Look, don't just go rushing in with this one! His weapon's got more range than the others, you need to slip inside that range to make its bonus irrelevant!

Gundza wasn't able to tell if Uthug heard him or not, since the Looter merely kept yelling as he ran. Slowing to a stop just to lean out of the way of the spinning blade before lunging forward. But the Caterer seemed to notice his goal, for he immediately jumped back to, placing his blade in between them again and swinging once more.

He's not gonna make this easy! He seems aware of his weapon's limitations! We need him distracted!

Uthug tried slipping past his blade several more times, but the Caterer seemed adamant on keeping far out of his grasp. With a snarl, Uthug reached down and grabbed hold of one of the many corpses now littering the area and lobbed it at him to try and divide his focus. The Caterer merely sawed through the body and let it spill to the floor before noticing Uthug trying to get around his guard and quickly spinning with his weapon. Once more Uthug ducked under it, only this time he dug his fist into the carved corpse before flinging a fistful of viscera into the Caterer's face, making him yell in surprise.

Whilst he began trying to wipe away the blood and gore with one hand, Uthug finally lunged past his weapon and brought his elbow down on the pipe, snapping it in half before bringing the upper half spinning towards its owner. The saw carved a huge gash in the Caterer's neck as he spun and tried to grasp the wound, only for Uthug to take hold of his head and raise his own saw in front of him.

"Wait!" The Caterer tried hissing through the garish neck wound "Just wait a-!"

Uthug jammed the spinning saw into the Caterer's mouth and let the sound of screaming and torn flesh drown out whatever he was gonna say, forcing the tool deeper and deeper until both it and its former owner ceased to function.

You know, we probably could have used a weapon like that. But then again, its not like someone like you really cares about thinking ahead, do you?

"Quiet!" Uthug hissed before letting the corpse fall to the floor and turning his eyes elsewhere "Anybody else!?"

Wait! Don't say that! You're going to Jinx us you-!

"You."

Uthug turned and watched a cart slowly approach.

Goddamn it! Can you go thirty seconds without screwing something up?!

The cart seemed like one of the usual ones the Caterers used for their cutting tools, the main difference between it and the others being that the Armament he had been dodging outside was strapped to its top.

"You can't let him go free!" the Uruk pushing the cart shouted, and it was only now that Uthug realized one of his arms was in a very poorly built medical brace "You have no idea what we've gone through to get rid of that walking plague!"

"Kurgo." Uthug grumbled as he turned to face him "Of course."

Yeah, you know that little tidbit about range earlier? It applies here, only on a far more lethal scale if you could imagine. I'd warn you that charging towards something like that at this distance would be near suicidal, but I'm beginning to accept that that wouldn't change your mind no matter what.

The second Kurgo began firing, Uthug took off to the side as metal projectiles dug deep into the ground behind him.

Okay, damn it all, charging directly at him is suicide and he'll aim where we're going soon enough. Luckily for us, looks like his arm hasn't fully healed from your last encounter. With how much force that thing is flinging with I doubt he'd be able to steady and fire it at the same time without the kickback throwing him on his arse. He's stationary as long as he's shooting, so all we really need is some kind of cover which we could use to get close to him.

Tired of missing, Kurgo growled and ceased his volley to adjust his aim. Uthug tried charging him while he was busy, but the projectiles were sent flying almost immediately after, forcing the Looter to backtrack and start running in the opposite direction. But it was then that he spotted something, and lunged for it as Kurgo slightly adjusted his aim once more.

Uthug stood back up with the stool he'd wielded just moments ago, much to Gundza's dismay.

Are you mad?! That thing's far too small to-!

Uthug raced towards Kurgo even as the projectiles tore the seat of the stool apart, several making it past and carving through the last of his Aura and tearing deep grooves into his left arm. But it had been enough, and despite the blood now leaking liberally from his new wounds, Uthug slammed the torn up seat into the armament with enough force to cave it in and nearly wrenched it from Kurgo's cart.

The force of Uthug's assault had made the cart jerk back into Kurgo's stomach, but the Caterer was already moving to pull back. However, the sudden bloodied hand latching onto his brace put an end to that motion real quick.

With another guttural roar, Uthug took hold of Kurgo's brace and yanked it out of position, the Caterer crying out as his other hand shot for one of the blades on his cart.

Seeing his start to swing back, Uthug raised his foot and slammed it into the side of Kurgo's head before forcing him against the cart as his grip tightened. As the brace fell to pieces from the sheer force of the Looter's hold, Kurgo's screams rose in pitch once they both felt the limb coming free.

Ignoring the shriek of the whelp below him, Uthug twisted the broken limb until it eventually tore from its owner. The two stumbled away from each other as the bind connecting them was severed, both of them yelling as the floor was decorated with even more Caterer blood.

You had him! You had him and let him go!? Why would you even give him the opportunity to get distance between you?!

Uthug once more ignored Gundza's yelling, instead focusing on the hand and forearm still locked in his grasp. But instead of seeing a limb in his hold, he instead focused on the rather sharp nails his new weapon had.

Wasting no time, he lunged at the one armed Caterer brandishing the limb with intent to kill. But either Kurgo wasn't as incapacitated by the gruesome dismemberment as he'd hoped, or the adrenaline now surging through the Caterer was a force to be reckoned with. Trying not to slip on his own inky blood, Kurgo took hold of the cart and swung it into Uthug before the Frenzied Looter could get to him, the force causing the ruined armament to finally fall off the cart.

Without aura, the only thing keeping Uthug from feeling what seemed like a broken rib was the intense desire to see the annoyance before him eradicated. He pushed himself to his feet just in time for a knife to fly by his head.

Light-headed from blood loss, Kurgo fumbled with the rest of the cutting implements but still managed to launch them with surprising skill. Uthug ducked and weaved through the flying blades before vaulting over the cart and slamming his heel into Kurgo's face. Flung to the ground from the kick, Kurgo grunted as Uthug approached. And when the Looter was nearly upon him, he swung back with a cleaver he'd taken from the cart.

But Uthug was faster, and swung Kurgo's own severed hand into the Caterer's face. Kurgo's attack faltered as the nails dug long gashes into him, and it ceased altogether once Uthug dropped the limb and raised the Caterer by the throat. Kurgo tried raising his cleaver, but already the Scavenger's free hand took hold of his wrist and squeezed until the weapon slipped from his grasp.

"You can't..." Kurgo tried speaking despite his diminishing air supply "The disease needs... to be ended... after all we've done... Felgrat promised! The Wretch has ruined too many... he needs to pay! Felgrat promised us justice! Even if the rest are too stupid... too dumb to understand what they're fighting for... we must succeed!"

Hmm, I think I'm starting to understand these sniveling runts a bit more.

What's he talking about?

Seems our dear Archer's initial understanding of his enemy was false. From what I've been able to piece together so far it seems that a good portion of these Caterers seem to be using their dismissal of Bubol's plan as a front for getting back at him for previous slights.

What?

Bubol's made an immense number of enemies, grub. I actually expected something of this nature to occur, but I had not anticipated getting involved in such a manner. The more thoughtful Uruks working under Felgrat seem to be convinced this is their chance to rid themselves of Bubol, while the lesser grunts are merely having their own stupidity used against them.

"He needs to... be stopped! Needs..." Kurgo kept croaking

So then we just give them Bubol and they'll stop fighting?

Cheifless... so short-sighted. This conflict's gone on too long for it to end that simply. I don't know what Felgrat's thinking, getting this lot to fight for him through lies and promises, but it seems obvious to me that he's recruited too many bloodthirsty idiots to help settle his score. If Bubol goes down, he's going to have to keep sabotaging the Crewmates until they concede.

But if he's got Bubol, then he can start trying to escape properly, right?

Wrong, he's convinced too many of these imbeciles that his method is the right one just to get them to oppose the Diseased. If he suddenly goes back on it, especially after defeating Bubol's boys, then these Chiefless fodder will start feeling betrayed and take matters into their own hands. He's backing himself into a corner I don't think he can crawl out of.

Then we can't-

No, you've already torn up an entire Caterer outpost, there's no team switching for you. But on the bright side, you just tore up an entire Caterer outpost on your own. If this doesn't garner respect in Bubol's ranks I don't know what will. But we still need to find him, so let's tie up this bastard and go find him. We were lucky you left one of the smarter ones alive, if we can interrogate him on the location of other outposts then we can form a plan and-

"NO PLANS! Uthug roared as he raised Kurgo up and slammed him onto the cart, turning the Caterer's angry mutters into groans of pain

What are you doing!? We need him alive to plan-

Hearing the term again seemed only to spur him on further, as Uthug reached below the cart and pulled what seemed to be a filthy skewer from it before raising it high.

Wait! No no no!

He brought it down with enough force to puncture both Kurgo's gut and the cart beneath him.

As the Caterer released a yell and reached fro the handle sticking out of him, Uthug took hold of either side of the cart before aiming it towards the stairs and taking off. With another roar Uthug launched the Cart down the stairs, the violent tumbling causing the skewer to rip and tear up Kurgo's insides until the cart landed on its side and sent Kurgo flying before he rolled to a stop in a pool of his own entrails.

Standing at the top of the stairs, Uthug released several more breaths as he allowed his fists to unclench.

We could've used him... we could've...

"I don't want to hear you even suggest that to me ever again, damn it." Uthug snarled "Plans always fail."

Though Gundza seemed ready to launch into yet another tirade, the sight of armored Uruks entering the front doors caught their gaze.

"Dear Lord, what the shrahk happened to this lot?" Galkar asked out loud as the other Crewmates behind him took in the viscious sight

"They got annoying." was the simple answer provided to them by Uthug as he descended the stairs with an exhausted sigh

"He did it all by himself?" one of the others started asking, but Galkar seemed focused on more pressing concerns.

"Where's the boss!?" he asked as he approached "Did you find him?"

"No, so how about you guys spread out and-"

The sound of a door being thrown open made all of them pause and glance past the stairs.

All of a sudden a bloodied, pale runt of an Uruk stumbled out from behind it and and nearly tripped in his haste to escape "Please! Please don't let it-"

He jerked as some tiny object seemed to slam into his hip and make him fall to his knees.

"No running sweetness!" the unmistakable cackle of Bubol rang out as the Diseased Uruk soon appeared, slingshot in hand "You got to have your fun, now I get to have mine!"

"No! Oh dear lord no!" the runt tried scrabbling away, but Bubol was on him before he could even get back to his feet.

With a swift kick to the head, the runt flopped onto his back unconscious as Bubol dropped the slingshot and immediately mounted him.

"It may be too rough to be her skin, but I've got quite the vivid imagination!" Bubol laughed as he began tearing the unconscious Uruk's Jumpsuit open and rubbing his sore-covered fingers along his bare skin "I've been making a wig that'll make you look even more like her! But don't worry, I wouldn't be so good at giving if I wasn't skilled at receiving!"

As the Crewmates shied away from their leader's rampant appetite, Utug jerked a thumb to him "There he is, guess I'm done here."

And so, as Bubol's sickening moans echoed from the corpse-filled outpost, Uthug took his leave with a tired groan. Pausing only to call back to the Crewmates from the entrance.

"And the next time one of you loses him, you're losing ya damned eyes!"

---

A.N: Chapter 14, done far quicker than I often complete chapters around here.

This one was actually easier to get done than most since I was basically just building off a ton of set ups from last chapter. Because of that I wasn't able to give our Uruk of the day as much spotlight as the title would imply, but I couldn't bring myself to swap it with something esle since the Poet and Singer have always gone hand in hand with one another. After this we'll officially be in RWBY Volume 3's timeline, so fingers crossed that I can do the Mistral Regional Tournament justice.

But for now, let's talk poetry.

Borgu the Poet is the battle partner of Zog the Singer, and if I had brought them to Shadow of War with me I'm almost one-hundred percent certain they would be blood-brothers. At least, that's what their rate of showing up together would lead me to believe. Seriously, running into Zog was surprising enough one time, but all of a sudden the fights with him turn into a duet once Borgu arrived. It was like something out of a true musical, from the singing and rhymes it was so damn amusing. But like Zog, Borgu wasn't much of a difficulty fighting on his own. In fact, most of the times he'd flee as soon as I started dealing to damage to him, which I've translated into him being far more of a morale guy than anything else. Couple that with how extremely fast the little bugger was, and he actually outlived far more of my enemies than I initially realized

Anyway, hope you enjoy, any and all criticisms positive or negative are welcomed in full so leave a review or comment if you are so inclined to do. Things you enjoyed about it? Things you hated about it? Any ways you feel I could improve? Expectations for the next chapter? Follow or Favorite at your leisure and I will see you all in the next installment of The Dreamer Gate.

Next Chapter: ?