Jagganoth
Alright! New chapter time! Not much news this time around other than that I'm hyped as heck for 7.2 to drop, so I'll jump right into responses!
Phuxeds: It's not the player character. The player character is a hard concept to write effectively since a lot of people have a certain idea as to the personality of their character, discounting the race and class combos that people would all want to see the player character be. So no, this is a named character, but I kinda figure the player character is mentioned within the 'adventurers' name tag.
Raging Archon: Don't worry, I'm sure Summer will be seeing Ruby soon. Very soon. Though I can't promise it'll be under the calmest of circumstances.
TehUnoman: They're certainly something, a bit of laziness being one of their traits. You'll be seeing quite a bit of them in chapters to come.
Smartjocklv: You're absolutely right about that bit concerning Ravarth. I didn't really check the last chapter for tonal consistency before I decided to publish it. I've since changed the ending of the last chapter a tiny bit. As for Summer; her intentions are kept vague on purpose, don't worry, they'll be revealed someday.
Now, onto the chapter!
"Once before we lived as one,
This land was unbroken,
Then demons came and we lost our way,
Now wars our name,
And shattered dreams are what remain." - Phillip Presswood, The Heart of Battle
"Who are you?!" Winter's voice tore through the once calm aura of the hotel room, her normally poised and well mannered demeanor forgotten in the face of her unfortunate discovery.
"Winter!" Weiss cried as she leapt to her feet, rushing to stand between her sister and Thomas before a fight could break out between the two of them, "I, uh... Heh..."
Thomas meanwhile only continued to lounge, watching with interest as Weiss cut off Winter's progress towards the young man, "This is gonna end'n tears..."
"Who-... Weiss! Who is this?!" The eldest sister demanded, jabbing an acusitory finger in Thomas' direction.
"This!... Oh, this is just Thomas!..."
"And Why exactly are you sitting in a hotel room with him?!..."
Weiss quickly whirled around towards Thomas, hoping for assistance, only to find him sitting there, a disinterested expression plastered on his face. This however was not what made her falter.
It was his face, no longer hidden behind the mask that he had taken the time to use in order to conceal his human features.
He was indeed a young man, a mess of red blonde hair flowing just past his ears, eventually meeting up with the beginnings of his pronounced jawline, which seemed to hold no hint of their true lupine nature. A light dusting of freckles was present on his cheeks, giving him an almost childlike appearance.
If she hadn't seen his transformation more than once, albeit with a mask covering his face, Weiss would have never pegged the man sitting in front of her and her sister to be the same Worgen which she had fought beside, and sometimes with, for the last few months of her life.
Realizing that she had been silent for nearly half a minute Weiss spun back around on her heel and quickly began to form an excuse, sputtering as she wracked her mind for any sort of explanation that would sedate her sisters ire, "It's just so... So..."
Unfortunately for the heiress both her mind and voice eventually failed her, leaving her standing before her elder sister with an open mouth while Winter raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed.
Weiss was beginning to see how Ruby felt whenever stage heiress scolded the reaper.
"Keep talkin' Priss, hole's only getting deeper at this point." Thomas called from behind the two, eliciting little more than an unseen roll of the eyes from the girl in question.
"Then... Those symbols on that new armor of yours... That's his family crest, isn't it?" Winter theorized, pursing her lips together.
"Kingdom's actually." Thomas spoke up, receiving heated glare from both sisters. He was beginning to believe that glare was hereditary.
Winter was the first to speak up, slamming her boot down upon the carpeted floor, "Silence beast!"
Winter's words seemed to finally strike a nerve, "Oh, believe me bitch, if you knew how correct that statement was you'd-..."
"Thomas! No!" Weiss interrupted as she watched Thomas finally bring himself to his full height. Despite his now human appearance he still dwarfed her by nearly a head. If he decided to push past her there would be no stopping him without use of her glyphs.
"I'm ashamed Weiss, when our father hears of this-..."
"Wait! Don't tell father!" The younger Schnee cried as she whirled back around to face her sister with panic clear in her eyes. She had only barely dodged her father's ire when he had learned of her neglecting her vocal training, if he discovered this situation, well, Weiss didn't want to think of the consequences.
"Don't tell him?!... Weiss, are you aware of just what would have happened to your reputation if it hadn't been me to open that door?!..."
"I know, but it's-..."
"What if it had been one of the servants?" Winter pressed as Weiss hung her head in shame, her hands balled together in front of her as her elder sister continued to reprimand her. "Do you know how quickly they'd start talking?"
"Servants?" Thomas finally questioned, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.
"Yes, the servants!" Winter replied as if whatever she was implying was the most obvious thing in the world. Jabbing a finger in the direction of the door she continued, "Don't you two know how sensitive their ears can be?"
"Wait, Winter!-..." Weiss cried out, but it was already too late. Before she could say any more she felt a strong hand clamp firmly onto her shoulder, silencing her.
As she glanced behind her she felt her stomach drop.
Thomas' expression was far from the disinterested one that it had been only moments before. It was dead serious now, his eyes flashing a sickly yellow as Weiss felt the hand on her shoulder tensing up.
It was the same expression that he wore when he had told off the Schnee patriarch.
"...What exactly do you mean by sensitive ears?"
"Don't even think about telling me you haven't seen them." Winter scoffed, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment to take a breath before suddenly blurting out, "I'm talking about the Faunus!"
The room seemed to grow cold in an instant.
"If this little discovery were to reach the general public then our family name would be damaged, and I assure you that the Faunus servants would be more than happy to leak that information!..." Winter continued, drawing closer to Weiss and Thomas as her barely pent up anger continued to build.
"The hell do you mean by 'servants'?..." Thomas hissed out, his voice eerily calm, though both sisters could sense the malice dripping from every syllable.
"They choose to work here in Atlas. We do not bind them here by force."
"Don't dodge the question..."
Winter merely crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed with the sudden change in Thomas' attitude. After years of dealing with her fellow soldiers it took quite a bit more than a tense atmosphere and an intimidating man to scare Winter Schnee.
Realizing that the situation was only going to degrade further if she did not step in, Weiss turned to face the disguised Worgen, "Thomas, hold on, I told you that there were some issues my company had with the-..."
"Issue?! You call slavery just an 'issue'?!" Thomas suddenly yelled, causing Weiss to falter for a moment, bewildered by the sudden change of behavior from the man.
"It...it's not slavery!" She replied, attempting to regain her composure, only to lose it almost instantly as she felt something digging into her shoulder. Glancing down she saw that Thomas' nails had grown noticeably sharper and were beginning to slowly increase in length before her very eyes.
"Then what the hell is it?!" Thomas growled, his voice growing deep and more coarse with each word he spoke, as if his vocal chords were being twisted and turned like taffy inside of his throat.
"Like I just said! It's an issue!..." Weiss gently brought her own hand up to Thomas', hoping to quell the man before any truly noticeable changes could occur while Winter was still present, "An issue we're going to work to resolve..."
"Why do you have it at all?!"
"It's not actual slavery Thomas, it's just-..."
"Don't even think of trying to talk your way out of this!" He interrupted.
"The Alliance resorted to slavery once!" Weiss finally snapped. If Thomas really wanted to argue, then by hell, she would argue like only a Schnee could. "Don't act high and mighty, I've learned what your people did after the first war!"
"My people did nothing!" He yelled, jabbing a thumb against his sternum, "We sealed ourselves off from the rest of the world with the wall!"
"Oh right, look at you, the precipice of the moral high ground!" She scoffed, crossing her arms in an arrogant manner, "Tell me, what was it you got for sealing yourselves off again?!..."
Weiss regretted those words the moment they were out of her mouth.
Thomas's already cream colored eyes flashed a bright yellow as he suddenly began growling in an almost feral fashion, darker hairs beginning to emerge from his arms and hands, one of which was beginning to curl into a claw.
However, despite the anger coursing through him, Thomas couldn't help but to hesitate when he saw Weiss' eyes fill with worry.
No, he thought as his nails ceased the final steps of their transformation, that wasn't worry.
It was fear.
Thomas turned his attention away from the expression on Weiss' face however when he heard the unmistakable sound of a sword beginning to leave it's metal scabbard echoing out behind him like the whisper of a banshee.
"Back away from my sister..." Winter warned, her blade glinting in the dim light of the room.
She had to be careful. This man had a semblance she had never seen before. As far as she could tell the only thing his apparent semblance did was elongate his nails, but that was hardly enough to stand against demons.
Just what manner of semblance did this man possess?
No, she dismissed the fleeting traces of trepidation in her mind as she hardened her gaze. Winter Schnee was no fool. Thomas was hiding more than just some long nails, and the Maidens be damned before she would advance against an unknown foe such as this.
"I would never harm her..." Thomas turned to Winter, reaching towards Myrtenaster, which Weiss had previously laid out on the nearby dresser when she and Thomas first arrived, "You're a much different story... Shut your mouth and step back."
Winter of course silently contemplated bursting forwards and ending the entire problem before it could begin, however judging by the look on Thomas' face she would no doubt be in for a fight, and if this man was able to stand against demons then there was no doubt he would present at least a moderate challenge for her, and with Weiss caught in the crossfire...
"If you threaten me again-..."
"Stop!" Weiss ordered before violence could break out between the two warriors, "You're both acting like children!"
"Tell that to your slag of a sister-..."
"No! You've been agitating her just as much as she has you ever since we arrived at Atlas!" Weiss whirled around, giving Thomas' shoulder a jab. "Do you not have an ounce of shame?!..."
Winter raised an eyebrow when Thomas' hand, instead of ripping the sword from the table and charging past the younger Schnee, slowly dropped away from the sword, falling back to his side.
The man had not even blinked when their father and he had been embroiled in their argument, and certainly had made every effort to disobey anything and everything the man had said.
So why was he now heeding Weiss' order?
Winter had little time to contemplate the situation before Weiss turned to face her sister, a pleading expression on her face. "Winter, I promise I'll explain everything when I have the chance, but please... Can you just leave for now?"
Winter stole a glance over in Thomas' direction, who only glared back, though he obviously had no intention on reaching for Weiss' blade once more.
"...Very well." Winter sighed, turning back to Weiss, her usual stern demeanor making its grand reappearance, "But don't expect me to forget what happened here tonight."
"No... No I don't expect you will..."
Winter turned and made her way towards the door, crossing the room in only a few powerful strides. As she walked she said, "My original intention when I came here looking for you was to inform you that you'll be performing at a small ball that's being organized a week from now at the family residence in celebration of the treaty between the Azerothians and Remnant."
Winter stopped for only a moment, turning back glare one last time at Thomas.
"You are also expected to attend. Be there."
"Burn in hell."
Winter felt a frown creep onto her face but left without another word.
The moment her sister had left Weiss let out a shaken breath before sitting on the bed, her face in her hands.
"Your sister's a shrill bitch."
Weiss heard the unmistakeable sounds of Thomas' transformation before she felt the brushing of soft Worgen fur against her arm as he sat beside her.
"Ravarth... Earlier..."
Ravarth huffed, not saying a word.
"...I don't like it either. If it were up to me it would be a thing of the past."
"And why isn't it?" His words were quick and precise. Hastened. It was clear he didn't want to speak.
"Why do you think? My father is the chairman of the company," Weiss replied, her eyes downcast, "I may be the heiress but I don't have the authority to make changes like that until I'm the head of the SDC."
"Good to know."
An uncomfortable calm passed over the room.
"...I guess I'll leave... I'm sure Winter will want that explanation as soon as possible..."
Weiss stood, making her own way to the door as her sister had done only moments before. And like her sister she felt compelled to stop at the door and glance back.
And like her sister she was met with a glare from Ravarth.
"...I can sta-..."
"Get out."
Weiss froze, letting out a silent gasp as she felt the Worgen's words send a proverbial ice lance through her stomach.
Sure, he had yelled at her before. They yelled at each other all the time. But something about what he said was different. There was no room for argument.
Nothing but an order.
Nothing but barely restrained anger.
She turned and left without another word of protest.
"You're far too late to save the other Warlocks... They now have the honor of amusing my Lord; Mephistroth!" Jagganoth yelled as he took another swing at both Varimas and Yang, snorting in amusement as the two rolled out of the way of the massive glaive slamming into the earth, crumbling the rock beneath it. "He will be most pleased to received yet more gifts, and I will be all too happy to take the both of you to him in the very chains you escaped from!"
He took another swing at the two, his glaive tearing through everything in its path as if it were no more than paper. Even a few smaller demons that had been unlucky enough to be within range of the swing were dispatched by the glaive, Fel blood spraying onto the soot covered ground, painting the dirt a sickly greyish green.
"Come! Do your worst! You will be broken!"
"Our worst? If you say so." Yang slammed her hands together and activated her weapon, her demonically enhanced semblance glowing a bright green as her hair flared up out of its ponytail.
Jagganoth wasted no time with further intimidation, instead opting to launch a fel bolt the size of a car towards Varimas. However the warlock did not move, causing the pit lord to falter as he watched the fel bolt sail towards the elf unabated.
Just before it impacted against Varimas, a large bubble of purple energy suddenly manifested around Varimas, the fel energy exploding upon contact with the shield, covering the area around the warlock in a thick blanket of black smoke.
Jagganoth glowered at the sudden intervention of the shield, waving his glaive around in an attempt to clear the smoke around the area, only to when he saw it.
The skull floating beside Varimas.
"No!... The Skull... Where did you find the Skull?!..." The Pitlord roared, a vine appearing on his grotesque head as he stared down at the elf, his eyes roaring with demonic energies.
"Oh, you know, just lying around somewhere." Varimas chuckled, drawing the dagger that had been resting on his belt, the edge of the bone-like blade flashing with a purple aura.
"Sorry bud, finders keepers!" Yang added in, giving the massive demon a sly wink.
"This cannot be!... I won't allow it!" Jagganoth seemed to simmer for but a moment before the top boiled over. Lifting his glaive overhead he let out a massive roar, "I WON'T!"
The Pitlord charged, all six of his mammoth sized feet pounding small craters into the cracked and arid ground of the land, small tremors accompanying each step as he swung his weapon in Yang's direction.
The brawler instinctively jumped to the side, Ember Celica sending several rounds of through his thick hide, explosions of muscle and green blood flying onto her face
The blows quickly send the Pitord staggering to the side, clutching at his knee and roaring in pain, blood seeping from between his large log sized fingers, pooling around his feet in a green puddle.
Varimas, seeing the opportunity, quickly sends a large bolt of shadowy energy towards the demon, only to watch in mild surprise as the spell exploded upon impact with the pit lord, blowing away a sizable chuck of flesh on his side, leaving him howling out in pain as it clutched its newest injury.
"Dayum, that's a new trick." Yang gaped, "How'd you do that?"
"I'm...not sure."
"My powers have amplified your own warlock." Thal'kiel spoke up, "Your magic has been infused with my essence, transforming your mere Shadowbolts into Demonbolts."
Yang snickered, watching with a wide smirk as the Pit Lord continued to struggle against his wounds. She almost felt bad for the big ugly bastard. Almost. "Okay, that's kinda cool!"
"Indeed, for I am the almighty-..."
"Me next!"
"How many times must we cover your apparent need to use that overly grating voice of yours?!" Thal'kiel roared, to which Yang gave a dismissive shrug.
"Three."
"That's two too many!"
"Er, not to interrupt your argument, but..." Varimas motioned towards the large pitlord, who was letting around a loud string of eredar as he finally found his footing.
Instead of charging as he had before the Pitlord seemed to let out a loud curse before winding back his arm and throwing his tree-truck sized glaive towards
"Not a chance buddy!" Yang yelled as she used her semblance to burst forwards, holding out her gauntleted fists in front of her, slamming into the Pitlord's chest, bursting through the thick layer of armor like skin and shattering the bones within, leaving a massive cavity where it's lung had presumably once been.
Varimas, sensing the opportunity, strolled up with his knife in hand.
When he drew closer to the fallen Pitlord, the demon turned its fading gaze towards the Warlock, "The Legion... Has its new champion... She will come... She will spell doom to both of your worlds..."
Varimas said nothing, only bringing his blade down upon the demon's neck, causing the wound to spray green blood along the length of Varimas' robes, as well as flooding forth from his mouth.
However, before the blade could slice through the remainder of Jagganoth's throat one of the jagged sections of the dagger suddenly became jammed in the tough flesh. Varimas quickly began pulling on the knife, only for it to remain trapped no matter how hard he tugged against it.
As he struggled Jagganoth's eyes suddenly flashed a bright green as the demonic commander used seemingly the last of his strength to the last of his strength to grab hold of Varimas and lift him to his mouth in an attempt to kill him as well. "You. Will. Die!"
After a few moments of struggling against the grip of the Pitlord, Varimas eventually dislodged the dagger and without a moments hesitation forced the blade under the demon's jaw, forcing his mouth shut as well as piercing the blade through the bottom of its mouth.
Jagganoth, roaring out in agony, dropped Varimas and attempted to dislodge the knife from his throat, desperately clawing at it as blood began to seep from the wound.
Just as he got ahold of the handle however Yang quickly jumped up and hammered in the blade with a concise shotgun blast, sending the dagger clear through the demons skull and out the top of his head, landing several yards away next to its weielder, who watched in mild fascination as Jagganoth fell to the ground without another murmur of protest, his fel blood leaking out onto the already dyed ground, forever staining the dirt below it.
Turning his attention to his partner he found the blonde brawler giggling like a child, wiping the excess blood off of her clothes.
"Wow... Well, I guess we took him out with a Yang!~"
Thal'kiel nearly plowed straight through Yang's torso.
It was official.
Glynda Goodwitch and the very concept of sleep were mortal enemies on this night.
It had been a valiant attempt, but in the end she lost her battle to insomnia, and so there she was, wandering through the empty halls of the ruins! taking in every crack and crevice of the walls. Each section, every stone and tile, seemed to have been crafted with the most delicate of procedures, yet it had been left to rot over the thousands of years it had been left unattended.
Glynda let out a soft sigh. It was such a shame, to let such beautiful architecture go to waste.
However in the middle of her wander Glynda's ears picked up on something soft. Something small. A noise so subtle that she would have missed it were it not for years of listening out for the whispers of disobedient students and even more disobedient Ozpins.
Was that... Humming?
Quickly following the sound of the humming, Glynda soon found herself in what seemed to be the deepest section of the underground tunnels, where a single doorway to a small chamber lay, it's entrance nearly hidden by the shadows.
She turned the corner into the door expecting to find one of the many refugee Nightborn children humming the tune, or perhaps one of the many adventurers that seemed to trickle in and out of the underground hall, only to find her gaze set upon the one from before. The one who had met she and the others in the hallway with Thalyssra only hours before.
"Oh. Sorry, did I wake'ya?" The figure turned to face Glyna, who shook her head.
"No, no it's quite alright..." She said as she found herself wandering into the room, a calm smile on her face. "That was beautiful."
"Thanks,"
As Glynda drew closer to the figure she couldn't help but to hesitate for a moment. Now that she was finally standing only yards from the figure she noticed that the air around them was... Warm. Arid.
It had been positively freezing in other sections of the ruins, what with them underground. They had barely been able to ration out blankets for everyone, and even then most who had one still seemed to shiver and quake.
Yet in here it was as if the cold had been banished. In here it felt as fit she were merely taking a stroll through Beacon on a pleasant late-spring morning. She could practically smell the odor of freshly blooming flowers from the gardens and the chirp and chatter of both students and wildlife.
"You okay?"
And suddenly she was back. The figure's voice tearing through the image in her minds eye, transporting her back to the dank and gloomy ruins she stood within.
"Does it have a name?" She asked, attempting to tear her mind away from the perplexing change of atmosphere.
"Huh?"
"What you were humming." Glynda clarified, watching as the figure readjusted themselves on the rock that they sat upon, leaning back against the ruins of the hallway as if they were its private abode, "Does it have a name?"
"The Heart of Battle."
"Is it some sort of folk song?"
The figure let out a soft laugh, their hands coming to rest upon their lap, "Hardy. A bunch of adventurers on their way to defeat the former Lich King made it up. It was kind of a moral booster. I guess it just caught on."
"You were part of the group who slew the old Lich King?"
The figure nodded.
"You must've been on quite a few adventures then. I've had the opportunity to study up on all the things that have happened in the last few decades of your history," Glynda theorized, recalling the near endless hours she'd spent researching Azeroth before she, Ozpin, and the remnants of team STRQ had made their journey to the war torn world. "Everything from the opening of the Dark Portal to the wars in Pandaria. It must have been quite the experience to see all of that first hand."
"I wasn't part of the War for Pandaria." The figure stated simply, eliciting a wide eyed gaze from Glynda.
"Oh? How come? If you don't mind my asking of course."
"It was a stupid war. Even if I'd offered help it would've eventually just devolved into me being sent into some random region of Pandaria to strike out at military targets." Their voice grew sober, the not so subtle undertone of sadness adrift throughout their statement, "Besides... I had other stuff to deal with. More important stuff."
Glynda made to mouth some form of sympathetic sentiment, only to trail off when the figure spoke up once more.
"Sorry, I'm being a grump." The figure said, letting out a small laugh, before turning to the teacher, "Why're you up so late? Figured everyone would be resting up for our assault on the Nighthold."
"I certainly should be," Glynda admitted bashfully, "I suppose part of me is still struggling to accept this whole mess."
"...Must've been kinda crazy for all of you, huh?" The figure asked, though their tone was knowing. Glynda raised an eyebrow at this. Was this person used to sudden change? She supposed an adventurers life would inevitably be filled with an almost constant measure of uncertainty.
"Though I'm sure many of Remnant's citizens are in the same boat as I, I can safely say that if I had been told that I would one day be fighting a demonic army on an alien world with the fate of both that world and Remnant hanging in the balance..." Glynda chuckled, giving a small shake of the head, "Well, I would've probably ended up hitting him, because the only one I know perpetually drunk enough to come up with a story like that is Qrow."
"Yeah, about that, how is he able to fight so well while he's smashed?"
"No one knows."
The figure snickered.
The next few minutes were filled with casual conversation between the two. The figure it turned out was much more talkative than they first appeared to be, which Glynda was more than thankful for. She was prepared to but now she was relatively sure she could have spent the rest of the night wrapped up in conversation with this adventurer.
Unfortunately all good things were bound to come to an end eventually, and with a soft sigh the figure suddenly brought themselves off of their perch on the stone and stretching.
"Well, I'd better head out to scout the area. The Blood Elf and Night Elf forces that'll be joining us in sieging the Nighthold should be arriving in the morning, and I don't want them to run headfirst into a Nightborne patrol before they have an opportunity to get the bulk of their forces on the ground."
"Of course," Glynda smiles as the figure passed by her, "Could you use a hand?"
"...Hmm, you know... Not really, but it'd be nice to have the company." The figure pointed to a nearby rack where several old saddles rested, the leather worn and strings frayed, though they still appeared useable, if only barely. "Grab a saddle. You're gonna need it."
"Can your horse not hold two people?" The blonde haired woman asked as she went over to retrieve one of the saddles, brushing off excess dirt from the various buckles and belts. Evidentially this donation had not been from Azeroth's more prestigious leatherworkers.
"Don't have one."
"I'm sorry? You don't have a steed of some sort?"
"Nah, I don't need one." Figure snickered at the surprised expression plastered on Glynda's face. Tilting their head towards the doorway they said, "C'mon, you'll see."