A/N: So, you know, every summer always seems like the promise of so much free time…
Well, here's a tip. If you really want time to pass by without feeling like you're doing much, get addicted to games, and then decide to write on a schedule. XD
Fuck me mate, why am I wasting money buying games when I need money for tuition? :(
Sigh.
'Nyways, Onwards!
Ozpin held his cane tightly as the students filed into the auditorium at a steady, but urgent pace. He took a deep breath in, noticeable only to the teachers standing up front.
Many people think that Ozpin was an immovable wall of guile and determination, a force of nature that dominates Vale.
But he wasn't. Not really.
Not when he could be potentially sending his children to their deaths.
One would think that after so many years of training Hunters and Huntresses you would grow a thicker skin and count the deaths as unfortunate, but necessary.
But every death only held grief and regret that Ozpin couldn't have helped the student out a little more—made them into a stronger and more formidable force.
Another deep breath was released from Ozpin before he opened his eyes, waiting just a little while longer before the students found their spots and watched the teachers quietly, waiting for a explanation, then a mission.
He motioned to Glynda, and she pressed a few buttons on her scroll, summoning a large picture that was sent out just a little earlier to everyone.
"Students of Beacon," Professor Ozpin said in a steady voice, making sure that it carried out all the way to the end of the room. "We are under attack." Students turned to look at each other worriedly, but opted to stay quiet, knowing that any information that would be relayed would be critical in the upcoming moments.
"Just less than ten minutes ago, hordes of Grimm appeared from the forests around us, and the Grimm that are airborne have surrounded us in a tight bubble, cutting off any routes of escape without casualties. We do not know if they simply want to attack us, or trap us, but we must establish a defensive perimeter to protect ourselves." Another gesture from Ozpin got Professor Goodwitch to switch screens to several lists of Hunter teams.
"Behind me is the first unit, which will be lead by Professor Peach. You all will set up your weapons and make sure that should any of the airborne decide to attack, you will provide fire to prevent them from reaching us. Listen to the Professor, as this may turn into a concentrated attack at one spot in hopes of allowing Bullheads to go through."
Another screen filtered through with another group of teams.
"The next teams will establish a perimeter around the school itself. You will be in charge of creating the barricades that will discourage Grimm from overrunning us. Remember your lessons, and make sure the walls are sturdy and built in a timely manner. We do not know when the Grimm will attack. You all will be lead by Professor Port."
Again another screen blinked to life.
"The teams on the next screen will provide defense for the group before them. Make sure that they are unhindered in their process to create the barricades. Do not let them be harmed. You will all be led by Professor Oobleck."
Ozpin cast his glance at the select few that hadn't appeared on screen.
"Teams JNPR and RWBY. Please stay behind, as we have another mission in mind for you all."
Ozpin gripped his cane tightly, piecing together some more words before steeling himself, making sure that he didn't think about what would happen should the Grimm attack. Ozpin made sure to look at every team, to remember them. Just in case. Professor Ozpin nodded solemnly.
"Students of Beacon. Do not falter if the Grimm attack. Fight back and make sure that you protect each other. However, if you do not think that you can hold out, do not play the hero and continue to fight. You are not true Hunters yet. You do not need to risk your life as of now. When this is all over, I expect to see every team back safe and sound." Ozpin gave a small smirk, indulging in a little pre-war humor. "Any team that does not will be receiving poor marks." A wave of chuckles, some more strained than others, rose out of the crowd.
"Go." Ozpin said simply, and the students as well as the teachers started to move into action, organizing into their respective groups and executing their plans.
Team RWBY and Team JNPR walked up to Professor Ozpin and simply waited. No one said anything. Yang didn't try and make light of the situation, and even Nora was more subdued than usual.
"As you guys have seen in the picture that I sent over the scrolls, there seems to be a group of Dragons out there." A few nods. Ozpin continued. "I would like for both teams to head out and confront them, as well as the rider. There is no reason that Grimm would be grouped into such large numbers and not attacking us now. Instead, the Grimm are just sitting there as if waiting for something."
"Why aren't they attacking us then?" Yang asked. Jaune glanced to the side and answered for the professor.
"Because the rider is controlling them." Jaune said, before realizing something else. "And he wants something." Ozpin nodded.
"That would be the safest assumption." The group looked amongst themselves, having tiny unspoken conversations with each other.
"Why us?" Blake asked. Ozpin nodded again, this time in approval of the question.
"Because whatever this is, this involves someone who can control the Grimm, and can control the Dragons. Mr. Arc here has some kind of affinity with the Dragon-Grimm, and we were hoping that this would help in… figuring everything out." He finished.
Ozpin knew that the explanation was thin at best. The truth of the matter was… Ozpin didn't know what was happening. Being the headmaster of one of the greatest combat schools helps lend credibility that came with substantial backing. There was very little that Ozpin didn't know about. Grimm, The Maidens, The Legend of the Silver Eyes… but Ozpin was at a loss to what was happening now.
Nothing he had ever learned about has even hinted towards someone, or something, trying to control the Grimm. Ozpin hadn't even heard rumors of attempts of doing so yet. Another complete unknown was Jaune's semblance. In all his years watching the thousands of students that came and went through Beacon, he had never seen a semblance like Jaune's.
Ozpin may have been at the end of his rope in this, but if there was one thing he learned from experience and time, it was that nothing ever really happened as a coincidence.
And having two unknowns drop into his lap at almost the same time was too much to be a simple coincidence.
Of course there was the gamble.
It could be that Ozpin was just blindly throwing his dice in the air, and landing on a bad roll. It could be that these two events had nothing to do with each other, and Ozpin would only aggravate the situation.
But after so many decades of doing crisis-management, there was one skill that he's relied on to pull him through to the next day.
His gut.
And right now, Ozpin could feel his gut declaring that Jaune and the mysterious rider were destined to meet.
He just hoped that he was right.
"Do not worry. Professor Goodwitch will be accompanying you to make sure that everything will be safe. If anything goes wrong, please listen to the professor. She knows what she is doing." Ozpin looked at each and every individual, taking note of their postures of determination, not one of them shirking in fear.
"Go out there and make contact with the rider. Whatever he wants—negotiate with him. Find a way to make it so that things do not end in conflict. But if it is necessary, do try and make sure the rider and his dragons do not participate in the fight. If worse comes to worse, stall for as long as possible. I will be calling in reinforcements, which will arrive as soon as possible." Ozpin's voice grew a little softer, a touch more sentimental.
"You all have such great potential. Do not squander it. Play this very carefully, and make sure you all come out of this safe. There will be no bigger priority to us teachers than to keep you all safe." All eight of them nodded, understanding what Professor Ozpin was trying to say.
Try and help if possible. But they were more important than the mission, and it's more important that they stay alive.
"Now go." Ozpin said, his hands still gripping his cane tightly. "Go and make a difference."
Jaune, along with his friends, walked steadily towards the outside of Beacon, no one really wanting to make a sound. Jaune had a hand laid on Crocea Mors, hoping desperately that Vedrahgol would decide to talk to him. What he heard instead, was the slow panicky voice of himself, putting him into more and more of a frantic state.
What had happened to Vedrahgol? Did the Oghma Infinitum do something to him? Was the book a trap laid out by someone who wanted to keep Jaune away from what was probably Jaune's best source of information?
Vedrahgol was vicious, and seemed to be the one to push Jaune to be more… primal than he usually was, but he was a force that Jaune could've counted on.
And now he was completely silent.
That couldn't have been a trap, Jaune thought angrily to himself. Noah was Jaune's father, he wouldn't do something like that… would he? Jaune recalled the conversation he had only a few hours before with his father.
"I hoped against everything that if I didn't train you and I didn't expose you to my world, everything would just pass over you."
His dad had tried to stunt Jaune's growth before… could it be possible that Noah would do something like this again? Jaune thought carefully to himself.
Yes.
Noah would do something like that. But only if he knew that it would keep Jaune safe. Jaune thought back to the masked rider on top of the dragon.
No, Jaune wasn't any safer than he was before he read the Oghma.
So if it wasn't his dad's fault, than was it the dream sender's fault? Mr. Mora?
Jaune growled quietly to himself. None of this added up.
Jaune turned to the left when he felt a hand touch his side, revealing a concerned Pyrrha.
"Are you alright Jaune? You look a little worried there." She asked quietly. Jaune tried to cover it up, smiling weakly.
"Not really. We're going to be facing some guy riding a dragon… and he's controlling the other Grimm around him." Jaune gave a weak laugh. "I don't think this is going to turn out so well."
Pyrrha gave a reassuring smile to Jaune. "Don't worry Jaune. We're here for you, whatever happens. Don't think that you're alone in this." Jaune gave another smile, this one more genuine than the last.
"Thanks Pyrrha." Jaune said. But this was only a part of what's worrying me, Jaune thought to himself.
The nine of them stepped outside into the open sky, and stopped in amazement.
There were so many Grimm in every direction, it looked as if the world had been swallowed in black. The Nevermore were crowding and clumped together to the point where sunlight was having trouble streaming through. If the team looked out into the fields, they could see waves and waves of Grimm, to the point where it wasn't black that was dotting the lands, but patches of brown and green dotting the sea of black.
Everybody in the group tightened their grips on their weapons, their bodies tense with fear.
Who had the power to do all of this?
As if on cue, a rush of wind surrounded them like they were underneath a Bullhead's exhaust, and an echo of a roar rushed out to meet them.
"Dovahkiin Nizah!" The voice echoed, rumbling into Jaune's bones as his mind automatically translated the words. False Dragonborn. Jaune looked up to see the masked rider, adorned in a ragged cloak and carrying a carved staff. The rider pointed the staff at Jaune menacingly. Jaune swallowed his fear and stepped forward, still keeping a hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Who are you?" Jaune said loudly, making sure that he would be heard over the five pairs of wings flapping simultaneously.
The rider laid a hand on the dragon he was riding, guiding it down onto the ground, causing the group to stumble a little as the floor shook with the sudden weight. The masked rider hopped down, standing beside the docile Grimm.
"I am Imaar, the King of the Beasts." He raised his staff into the air, and all around him, the Grimm straightened and tilted their heads towards him.
Creepy.
Again Jaune tried not to fall into a helpless puddle as he said in what he thought was a controlled and calm voice. He ignored the fact that there was a slight tremor in the tone.
"Why are you here?" Jaune asked. Imaar lowered the staff, causing the Grimm to relax again before he answered.
"I am here to offer this school of warriors mercy." Imaar intoned. "If you surrender to me, I will not harm any of you. In return, you will all swear fealty to me, as I will use you to help me conquer the rest of this world."
Jaune blinked uncertainly. What? He looked to Professor Goodwitch, as well as his friends, and saw them all staring at him unnervingly.
"What?" Jaune asked. Yang answered his question with another question.
"What are you guys saying?" She asked.
Now this was getting confusing. Jaune opened his mouth to ask her what she meant. Didn't she hear everything they just said. Then he hesitated. Vedrahgol's words came to mind at this moment.
What do you think we have been speaking this whole entire time?
Could Jaune be talking in… Dragon tongue? Was he doing it automatically?
There wasn't time for him to think about this at the moment though.
"His name is Imaar. And he wants us to be his soldiers so he can take over Remnant." Jaune explained shortly.
"Absolutely not." Professor Goodwitch retorted, crossing her arms sternly. "We are an independent school and we will most certainly not allow someone to just march in and take it over." Jaune nodded readily, knowing that was going to be the likeliest reply. But…
Jaune looked around again, taking in the sight of the hundreds of thousands of Grimm that separated Beacon from the rest of Remnant. There were hundreds of students down there, as well as dozens of teachers. That kind of force could very well take down a hundred thousand Grimm, maybe even two.
But the amount of Grimm that filled his vision wasn't anywhere near two hundred thousand Grimm.
It was way more.
Imaar took the time to interrupt Jaune's pensive thoughts.
"Alternatively, I would be satisfied with seven handpicked warriors, to be replenished when the numbers fall, along with you, Dovahkiin, swearing fealty to me." Imaar said.
Jaune hesitated again. That sounded… a lot better if Jaune was to be honest. Eight people was a whole lot less than the hundreds that would be conscripted (or killed), and there couldn't possibly be a way for Imaar to do that much damage with eight people.
Right?
Then again, the way the rider wanted the numbers to be… replenished just sounded so sinister and—and inevitable, as if he knew there would be casualties.
Jaune shook his head mentally. No. This offer only sounded better.
"And if we refuse?" Jaune asked Imaar.
The dragon rider paused for a second, face tilting to the side just enough to be considered inhuman. Imaar's hand that was holding the staff started to stroke it gently, like one would a lover. Jaune shivered at the sight.
"I will do nothing." Imaar said.
What?
"What?" Jaune asked dumbly. Imaar grasped the staff tightly, burying it into the ground, which was impressive seeing as how the ground beneath him was made of concrete.
"I will do nothing." Imaar repeated carefully. "I will go and leave this place, and find somewhere to start my conquest. I am only here to demonstrate a fraction of my ability, as well as offer a merciful hand to the brave warriors here."
Jaune was confused. Like, very confused.
Who brought hundreds of thousands of Grimm with them and decided not to attack with them? Who used this a sight like this to show a fraction of their ability?
"But remember this." Imaar continued speaking. "One day I will return, and I will bring a force much larger than this, and much more fearsome than this." Imaar's free hand rose up and pointed directly at Jaune. "And I will crush this combat skill and grind it into dust." The voice filtered out into a hiss at the end of the sentence.
Jaune gulped.
"Jaune?" Ruby said quietly.
Jaune turned and saw Ruby looking at him in concern. He was probably white with fear at this point. Jaune let out a shaky breath and started to translate the conversation.
"He says—he says that if we don't agree to do this, he'll just leave. But—but he'll come back. And he'll be stronger. And angrier."
The two teams looked troubled at Jaune's words, but still had a spark of defiance in their eyes.
"I think I can speak for everybody," Weiss said quietly, "in saying that he can take his offer and shove it."
Even scared, even hopelessly outnumbered and facing something no one had any idea how to face—they were hunters.
They would be the first ones to take a stand, and the last ones to fall.
"Thank you Miss Schnee." Professor Goodwitch said. "And I will be happy to say the same for every member of the faculty as well." She glared at the masked man. "We will not bow to petty threats."
Petty. Right. Jaune glanced up again at the hordes of Grimm.
"I have a feeling that you all have reached a consensus." Imaar said calmly. Jaune nodded.
"We have." Jaune said, and took a deep breath.
"We refuse to follow you."
Jaune couldn't see Imaar's expression, as it was covered behind his mask, but Jaune could see Imaar's hands gripping the staff a little tighter, his shoulders rising a little in tension. Imaar finally nodded.
"Very well. Remember this when I come back to destroy you all. You had a chance to be on the side of champions."
With that said, Imaar pulled his staff out of the ground and turned to his beast, grabbing a horn and hoisting himself up, sitting comfortably in between the Dragon's neck ridges. Nodding to Jaune, Imaar had one last word before departing into the skies.
"Daar ah lif wah kron"
This hunter departs to conquer.
As Imaar ascended into the skies, a flash of light erupted from his staff, and every land born Grimm turned and ran back into the forests, and the ones that flew circles briefly around Beacon, like a black tornado, before separating and spreading out into the blue sky.
A/N: There you go, some plot, freakin' finally.
On that note, The Adventures of Nora and the Crazy Stick will be wrapped up in this little omake, as I am running out of people to bully.
Enjoy. :)
"So, what do you think?"
The slow blinking eye centered in a mass of black tentacles turned to see a grinning Sheogorath with his hands on his waist. Sheogorath tilted his chin to point at the scene that had been laid out in front of the small, but powerful audience.
"This is an interesting world. Full of magic that is advanced and different from the world of Nirn's." A tall elderly man said, his eyes alight with humor. "It seems like a world where I can wreak my havoc."
Sheogorath gave a belly laugh, happy that Clavicus liked it. Clavicus was one of the few Princes that Sheogorath got along swimmingly with, and he knew that introducing Clavicus would only make things more interesting.
"What's happening over there?" A powerful being resembling an Orc pointed at the display. The others turned to look at what the scene was showing.
Nora was tied up, squirming against her bonds as she was wrapped against a stake. Several irate friends and allies where armed with fury, which resembled pitchforks. Ren the woman had stepped in front of Nora, trying to protect her from the angry chickens that wanted to rain down justice onto her.
Jaune had been knocked out and stripped down to his boxers, hanging upside down. Little Pyrra was trying to untie him, but could only really hop a few inches into the air and could only really just pout and look pretty.
"Oh, just the usual ending to my usual fun." Sheogorath said, waving the matter aside.
"The more important thing is, will you guys join me in a little bit of debauchery?" Sheogorath asked, a grin splitting his face. The rest of the group smiled along with him, glad to find more victims to play with.
"Oh Sheogorath, debauchery is what I do." Sanguine said, laughing gleefully. "When can we get started?" Sheogorath gave a happy smile.
"Whenever you guys like."