Vermilion Crusade
Her journey back to the fort was a relatively uneventful one, only stopping once by a stream to stop and catch some fish, whereafter she prepared and consumed them as normal before moving onwards back to her temporary refuge. It was nightfall now, but she was anything but tired, laying out the couple of maps across the floor of her chosen room so she could more properly plot her next actions. It was fortunate that she'd found a compass deeper in the satchel, as it would doubtless make navigating the region many times easier than without.
That being the case, she made swift work in narrowing down and marking her fort's location on the map, a location that wasn't even marked, suggesting that this place she currently called home had long since been both lost to time and forgotten by history. A tragic fate for those who'd fallen here, but one that worked to her advantage. Granted her some additional security in that no one could so easily narrow down her location from marked positions on an unmodified map. Allowed her to rest at least somewhat easier, knowing she'd be that much harder to find for any pursuers.
So, with the added bit of security, and with a flashlight now in her possession, she elected to explore the fort a little further into the areas previously shrouded in darkness, the depths of the fort where light didn't reach. She didn't really know what to expect down in the lower levels, more collapsed rooms, flooded sections and maybe a few Grimm beasts at worst, albeit if Grimm did truly lie down there she imagined her whirlwind of negative emotions would've awakened them some time ago. She doubted they'd just ignore her, as they were.
Shining a light into the pitch black corridors leading downwards, she kept her sword in hand and ready to act on a dime, careful to mind every corner and shadow. She really didn't expect to encounter anything down here but it never paid to be caught unprepared or off guard. However, as she continued to descend into the black, her suspicions of the place were more or less confirmed, at least aside from one room she'd found which she'd go on to call a rather nice find. An armory of a sort, with a couple more weapons in similar state to her longsword, a full suit of plate armor that matched her own, and even a rusty chainmail coif. The entirety of this suit was, however, more deteriorated than the armor she already had on, so instead opted to just take all the pieces of armor she didn't already have, the gorget, rerebraces, couters, vambraces, plackart, fauld, tassets, cuisses, poleyns, and sabatons.
Chuckling slightly under her breath as she equipped the armor over her clothing, she made a few tentative movements before solidifying her previous assumption. She'd need to train to move effectively in a full suit of armor. A lot. Nevertheless, she supposed she had nothing but time, it's not like her "friends" were going anywhere any time soon. Last thing she wanted was to rush their retribution, and botch her shot at sending them to hell. For now she'd train, get strong, master new weapons and strategies to battle. From here out, that'd be her only concern...
It had been a little over a week since that day, since they'd killed one of their own in cold blood. Truth be told, they wanted to make it a painless, or at least swift, end for the youngest among them, not like what ultimately happened. It wasn't the girl's fault that she was here, and they hated that it had to come to betrayal, but in their eyes, they had fairly little other options in the matter. They'd taken their concerns to Ozpin, and to Glynda, but none of them would listen, neither would even so much as humor their thoughts, that either she'd end up getting them and others killed, or she'd get killed herself. They wouldn't even humor the idea that she was not ready to attend Beacon, and the girl herself, whenever they brought such concerns to her merely promised that she'd prove her worth. To her credit, were she their age, were she mature enough, they might've put stock in those words, and she did genuinely make an effort to be a good leader... but simply making efforts wasn't enough.
Hardly a word had been spoken since they'd struck her down. They didn't dare speak her name, didn't feel as if they were worth it at the moment. For all their good intentions, and desire to reveal what they believed to be Headmaster Ozpin's greatest folly to him, it didn't change the fact that they'd murdered a friend, and couldn't even look her in the eye or say a word as they struck her down. It didn't change the fact that her blood was on their hands, and it didn't change the fact that they'd lied to everyone about her cause of death.
But above all else, they lamented that they couldn't even give her a swift or painless death. Couldn't send her off in peace, ignorant in death to what or who condemned her death. What was meant to be a simple thrust from behind through the heart was turned into all seven of them piling in to try to end her life as swiftly as possible, spare her from any further suffering. All it took was for the one who'd elected to take her blood upon her blade alone stumbling over a rock as she tried to cut her down, stabbing the girl through the back of the left shoulder instead of the heart. What should've been a swift, merciful execution... was instead turned into a savage butchering, not ending until the girl finally collapsed from the scores of injuries they'd inflicted upon her, eviscerated and damaged far beyond repair. And even then, with the last of her strength, she cursed them, swore them off and condemned them for their treachery and cowardice.
They couldn't bring themselves to disagree. They knew every single word she spoke was true, their treason and cowardice. For their dark deed, they knew that some day they'd burn for what they'd done. They were counting on it. Some day, the blade of justice would fall upon them, and when that day came, they vowed that they'd accept their fate with a bowed head... they just wished now that they'd had the strength and resolve to look her in the eye when they murdered her, and could've brought themselves to put their regrets, remorse and hatred of their own actions into words as she passed away.
Truly, she'd done nothing to deserve what they did to her. She was something of a light in the darkness to them, and it weighed heavily upon them knowing that it wasn't the Grimm that snuffed her light out like everyone beyond them believed, but themselves. She was innocent of any crimes, pure of heart, honorable and courageous. More so than any of them could ever hope to be. She should've become a great and noble huntress, but she was accelerated into the playing fields far too soon. In their eyes, it was her life, versus than of all of their own.
As they returned to their room in silence, excused from classes until the start of the next month on account of a teammate slain, the three of them quietly retreated back to their beds, chancing a fleeting if somber glance towards the folded box that was once their leader's chosen weapon. It unfolded out into a scythe, but none of them were even remotely practiced in such a weapon, not that they'd even dare to wield Crescent Rose into battle even if they were trained in it's usage. To do such a thing would be grossly disrespectful to her, it would be desecration in one of the most base forms.
"So..." The one in black began, a cat faunas that had her own reasons for being indebted to reaper that was once their leader. Her raven hair was a mess from a general lack of upkeep, similar to the other girls within the team, for that matter, and her eyes showed a rather obvious level of sleep deprivation. "Are we ready to... y'know..."
"What, talk about how we murdered my little sister?" The voice to follow, belonging to the deceased's own sister, was surprisingly flat in tone, lacking even the slightest edge to it. Perhaps she too was exhausted, the cat had to wonder, and it was only because of that that her rage and sorrow came across in such a flat, monotone manner. "What's there to even talk about? What's done is done. She's dead, and we're still here. That's all there is to it."
"I... think that's about as good an answer as anyone of us is gonna have right now. We did what we had to, and now we have to live with the consequences and guilt of our actions... I... feel it may be far too soon to really "discuss" anything about what we did." The girl in white, the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company and the very partner of the girl they'd struck down. She, like the others, was quite obviously affected by their actions, but she had to grapple with the additional guilt of knowing it was her who devised the plan, and it was her that convinced all of WBY and JNPR that this was the only course of action where they'd all have a future. She knew that if not for her machinations, the great betrayal would've never happened.
"Tch. Easy for you to say that, you hated her. Not like you would have anything to say about it, anyways, Weiss." She cringed slightly at the slight inflections in the blonde's voice as she called her out, knowing her to hurt the most in the wake of their actions. She knew she resented her for what she'd done, hated her for turning her against her own family. She hated herself just as much, something Weiss reflected herself.
"Yang, that isn't fair... we all had a hand in what we did, there's no reason to point fingers-" The Cat tried to defuse the situation, looking up from her bunk below the buxom blonde's. Alas, it seemed she was hardly pissed at only Weiss, and her attempts to calm her only resulted in ire being directed towards her too.
"Says the one who needed the least convincing, and the one who went for the abdomen when you had a clear shot for her neck. You were all to ready to join the plot to end her life, yet you were the only one who had the opening to spare her from any further suffering, and opted to slash open her guts open instead. You were the least merciful of any of us, Blake." Yang growled down to the faunas below, making her shrink down further into her covers in some feeble attempt to shield herself from any further scathing remarks. An indignant scoff escaped the blonde's sneering expression as she whipped her head away from her teammates, leaving them once more in silence.
Despite the tension and animosity in the room being damn near palpable, no one dared try and ease the atmosphere in the room again for fear of a sister's wrath. for now, they'd just leave the situation be, let it boil over until she came around and seemed actually ready to come to the table and discuss how their actions affected each of them...
After getting a full night's rest, she'd opted to first go about cleaning all her gear. Blade and armor, both were in dire need of actual maintenance. They'd hold for one battle, but she doubted they'd hold much longer... then she remembered, she had the voucher for a new suit of armor and a new blade, the former likely much better constructed and this time properly fitted, and the latter more effectively balanced, and stronger. She currently figured that her current armor would about get her back to Axenburg if she ran into trouble, but she reckoned it maybe just had one or two battles left to it before it was no longer useful to her.
Suited her fine, assuming they wouldn't stab her in the back, that's all she'd need her current gear to last her for. Nevertheless, whenever she arrived in Axenburg, she intended to come at full strength, and felt she could leave a massacre in her wake if their intent was to cut her down like her previous allies had if she wasn't already weakened. A grim expression crossed her, as the thought of cutting down the very people whom she'd saved left a foul taste in her mouth... yet she supposed that if they decided to take a blade to her neck, she wouldn't have any issue cutting them down.
For the time being, she'd operate under the assumption that they'd turn upon her at some point or another. The lessons her friends gave her about the stupidity of holding trust in others would follow her forever, a permanent reminder of their final lesson onto her. She didn't intend to make the same mistake twice, and she sure as hell didn't intend to get blindsided by betrayal a second time.
With her mind set, she finished the armor and armament maintenance she could actually enact upon her gear, made a meal of another salmon she'd caught not too long before she'd even started cleaning her gear, and marked Axenburg on the map as a possible safe haven. Donning the blackened cloak, she neatly folded the vermilion cloak she'd originally donned and placed it into the satchel, and began her journey Westward...
Though initially a rather uneventful journey, it was maybe only five or six kilometers in that the Grimm around her finally began to take notice of the maelstrom of negativity pouring out from her in waves. Suited her fine, just meant she'd have foes to hone her skills upon and get some more practical experience with the blade in her hands and the armor that protected her from head to toe. Grimm monstrosities came before her in waves, albeit none so notable that she'd say she could remember the specifics of each encounter. Sure, she took a few hits and glancing blows, but nothing that did anything more than scratch the rusted plate that shielded her from the weaker beasts that tried to swarm her.
Weak enemies, but they were better for training than shadowboxing some invisible opponent that couldn't really fight back, actually allowed her to learn from mistakes she made in experimentation. Still, as soon as she had her improved armor and weapon, whenever that actually would come to pass, she hoped to find a suitably strong foe to challenge herself against. After all, improvement was never something one saw in themselves without challenge. Drones such as lone Beowolves that weren't even Alphas provided no challenge after a few slain, and packs similarly without any Alphas were fairly easily cut down.
However, she supposed she'd be getting her challenging opponent a bit before she'd be entering the town, as around noon and not five kilometers from town, a mighty roar resounded from behind her. Turning to face the source, her brow raised slightly as a true opponent faced her in the form of a Beowolf Alpha, this one quite formidable in stature and bone plating. Chuckling slightly from behind her mask, the knight of rust flourished her longsword, and charged in to clash against this beast in close combat.
Lunging into her attack, she thrust into the overhead smash attempted by her opponent, breaking the momentum and redirecting the strike off to her side. Taking advantage of the opening she'd left, the Alpha Beowolf swept at her with its spare hand, scraping loudly against rusted plates as the girl ducked into the strike just a little too short to avoid getting struck, shearing partway through her left pauldron but ultimately failing to score a hit any deeper that her steel. Now on the wolf's blindside, she swept up diagonally, scoring a solid, if somewhat shallow, strike on the Alpha before trying to follow up with a horizontal slash meant to bisect the beast where it was soft.
Before she could connect, her blade locked just short of it's destination against the bone outgrowths on it's right arm. Her further lack of movement was punished when the beast shoved her blade off and back-handed her away, connecting with her back as she spun back with the blade as it was shoved away and throwing her on her chest a few meters away. Recovering swiftly, she rolled in a somersault as she crashed into the earth, coming up in a crouch before lunging to her right to avoid getting tackled and pinned to the ground by a Beowolf of all things. There was fewer places worse in melee than on one's back, and even something as simple as a regular Beowolf could very easily kill fully certified hunters if their prey was pinned to the ground.
Rising up properly from the ground, she readied her stance and charged back into the fray, blade clashing against claws in the center before turning to block a horizontal sweep from the opposite hand before it could connect with her abdomen, still being thrown out of her stance from the sheer power behind the strike and putting her off-balance. She gasped painfully as a clawed uppercut scored solidly against her plackart and breastplate, shearing through them and nearly throwing her off her feet. However, with the strike she slammed her right foot down further behind her, using the break created in the Alpha's defenses to send a swift and heavy slash through it's over-extended arm, divorcing the beast's left forearm and hand from the rest of it's arm and drawing forth an agonized scream. It was quicker to recover than she would've hoped, as it used its right hand to score a solid horizontal sweep against her side, throwing her on her side after smashing through a few smaller, weakened and dying trees.
Rolling over to rise back to her feet, she began to panic as it suddenly felt as if she couldn't breathe, but stuffed it to focus down her opponent. While the ongoing suffocation was definitely distracting, she'd delt with worse things in the short term, and instead charged back into the fray against her sworn enemy one last time. One last clash of blade against claw, accompanied by the shrill ting! of a snapping blade in the hard contact. Though it'd be concerning for any further battles, she could only smirk as it worked in her favor for this one, at least in combat this close-grips, and with one slight pivot and thrust as her broken blade passed through the clash, she stabbed deep into the beast's side, and ripped out the front of it's abdomen.
The Beowolf Alpha dropped to it's knees, swiping back and losing its remaining forearm from a quick swipe of the now smaller weapon, before finding the remaining half of the longsword stabbed up into it's throat. A swift twist and pull, and the disarmed Alpha collapsed onto it's back, gurgling pathetically in it's last few moments before fading to dust. She would've breathed out a sigh of relief, if she could breathe, so as soon as her foe was dust, she desperately reached up to untie the makeshift chin strap she'd made from vines so she could throw the helmet and mask off her head, sucking in deeply the fresh air as her head was freed to the outside world.
Panting hard, she fell on her back as her chest rapidly rose and fell beneath her sundered breastplate, greedily taking in all the air she'd been deprived of just moments ago. She knew what had just happened, but didn't think it was actually as dramatic as her peers had always described. "Helmet Terror," as it was known, a byproduct of failing to exhale strongly enough when breathing heavily behind a mask. Caused carbon dioxide to build up behind the mask faster than it was expelled, causing a user to quite literally suffocate within their own helmet.
"Y-yeah... I... cardio... in armor... ugh..." She spoke to herself between breaths as she lay on her back, eyes shut as she focused on her breathing, and getting it back under control. It was one thing to have proper breath control out of armor doing strenuous activities, but in armor, and behind a mask? She'd need some serious retraining to attain any measure of mastery with this new approach to battle... and she'd need to seriously work on both her physical strength and patience. "I... I rushed in... way too much... got thrashed for it... gotta... bide my... bide my time... augh..."
For perhaps a dozen minutes, she continued to lie still against the ground, slowly but surely getting her breath back as she recovered from the battle. She knew that fighting in armor would be a pretty large departure from her previous style of battle, but this was far more intense than she'd originally thought. Misconceptions abound, she supposed that as always she'd learn her lessons the hard way, she'd just have to tough it out through the teething phases and growing pains that came with such a radical change. Thought this was nothing new to her, she'd at least been hopeful that she could've avoided learning her lessons with this new fighting style via punishment in combat for once... then again, where had hope ever gotten her?
Finally, a deep sigh escaped her lips as she pulled herself back up to her feet and staggered back over to her helmet on the ground, dusting it off before sliding it over her head and securing it once more. Just after, she collected the snapped-off half of her blade, and continued on her way to Axenburg. She'd rest up for a bit just outside the town, fish for a bit and reclaim her strength and reclaim her strength with a hearty meal before continuing inwards, careful to keep herself wrapped completely with the black cloak and keep the hood draped over her helmet just enough to obscure her mask. After all, last thing she wanted now was to be recognized so quickly...
She found the ironworks fairly easily, being that it was really the only building that looked somewhat out of place, being reminiscent of her own fort in design and construction. Stone bricks and mortar, medieval aesthetic, albeit quite heavily renovated to at least accommodate the modern amenities such as electricity. It occurred to her that, at least if how aged the bricks appeared to be, that this ironworks might well be centuries old, just like her new hideout, kept in the family over generations. such a thought at least gave her some reassurance over the quality of their craft, if nothing else.
Pushing open the heavy oak wood door, she immediately was met with the smell of molten iron and what smelled like frankincense, the latter of which she quickly attributed to an incense burner not too far away, and the former to the large, burly man working the forge not ten paces from her. Her entry, however, did not go unnoticed, as the smithy turned his eyes up to her as she entered the shop, raising his mask and regarding her with a curious look while she approached. She supposed that he must've not connected the dots about the black cloak yet, so she elected to do him a solid by pulling her hood back to reveal her rusted, but recognized, helmet.
"Ah... so you're the town's savior. My son told me you might come by eventually, didn't expect it to be so soon, though. If you got the voucher, I'll ask you hand it over, then strip down so I can get some proper measurements." She already knew that this was how it'd be, but grumbled in an annoyed manner nonetheless, fishing the voucher out of her bag and handing it to the man before swiping a rag off the counter that separated the two of them from each other. Turning to face away from the man, she removed her helmet first, tying the rag around her face somewhat like a bandana to conceal most of her features before taking everything else save her lingerie off. Even if her face was covered, it was easy to tell she was beet-red under the bandana, and her obvious discomfort prompted the man to get to work as quickly as possible.
To his credit, he seemed to be completely professional, swiftly and efficiently taking all the needed measurements before stepping away and turning back to the forge so she could change properly. It allowed her to breathe out a sigh of relief, as without hesitation, she immediately redressed and donned her cloak, opting to set all her rusted armor and her broken blade upon the counter. He did truly appreciate just how cordially the man presented himself to be, as the first thing he did before getting to work was pull a platter of cheese, bread, crackers, fruit, pork and a few glasses of what looked to be water out from a room she could only assume was the kitchen or connected to it, and laying it on the counter, gesturing for her to pull up a chair from the side of the room and to help herself.
Although hesitant, she eventually caved and allowed herself to some of the meal offered to her, finding herself pleasantly surprised by the freshness of everything presented to her. The food was tasty, and filling, a suitable distraction while she waited for this man to finish with his craft. Not too long after, however, the same blonde boy from just the other day stepped out from the same room, eyes widening with what she assumed to be surprise upon seeing her sitting within his own residence. She idly rolled her eyes as he made a straight shot to sit across from her at the counter, propping his forearms up beside the platter as he looked her up and down, trying to find the right words.
"You actually came... I ah... I didn't think you would, not so soon, anyways..." He mused, trying to start some idle conversation albeit met with only silence, as the girl whom still concealed her face behind a veil of shadows courtesy of her hood. "I'm Erin Heinsmann, you uh... you from around here? Anywhere local? A-and where'd you learn to fight like you do?"
Her silence remained, as she merely turned her head away from the boy and continued to regard the food before her, plucking a few pieces of meat and cheese together and sandwiching them between salted crackers to feast upon. It drew a slight sigh from the lad as his efforts fell flat in the area of starting a conversation. It wasn't necessarily any sign of disrespect to him or anyone else, she just didn't feel like talking anymore. No point in wasting her breath on anything other than battle or on the words she spoke to herself, respectively.
"You uh... you don't talk much, do you? Is there... I dunno... maybe... anything you prefer to be called? You got a name, Miss?" She didn't regard him speaking those words, merely keeping a steady gaze as she finished off her snack. Still, she supposed that the question wasn't invalid, so she pulled her other cloak partway from the satchel, cluing him in well enough. "Oh... okay, so, is it fine if I call you "Vermilion," Miss?"
She regarded that with but a singular nod, drawing a slight smirk from the boy as he seemed proud of his deduction. For her part, she just continued as she was, content to just satisfy herself with the meal at her fingertips until the time came to don her new armor and weapon...
"Well, Miss Vermilion, whaddya think?" She whistled silently behind the new mask, thoroughly impressed by the craftsmanship behind the armor and just how perfectly it fit her. She'd been waiting for the better part of 16 hours for the armor to be finished, and she was quite pleased with the outcome. The armor for the most part had been based on her previous set of armor as far as designs went, albeit fitted to her proportions and having some even more protection than before in the form of gambeson with chainmail on the joints where her plate armor did not cover. As far as the steel plates themselves went, they boasted a sterling silver color, a fine contrast to the completely black gambeson beneath it.
She gave him a simple nod of approval before observing herself in the mirror, before observing the lower half of her body and additional bit of flair the smithy had incorporated, that being a pleated skirt of similar to color to her main cloak that descended from beneath her tassets that ended about halfway down her thighs. The entire armor was more tailored to form, being inherently feminine in it's appearance in that it somewhat emphasized her breasts, waist and hips, but it didn't necessarily bother her as the armor was still fully functional. The breastplate was designed with some grooves and divets made specifically to comfortably accommodate a cloak, which would then run under the pauldrons to act as a sort of hooded cape.
Her helmet was also slightly modified, with the cheeks of the helmet that would normally be covered by the mask skeletonized and given a wire mesh to make more breathable, however the design of the mask itself was left mostly untouched aside from reinforced anti-fog glass being added to the visor. The helmet gained padding, which she knew would go a LONG way towards protecting herself, and tough adjustable straps with a magnetic buckle that had a quick release tab and additional padding on the nape of her neck. It was a great many times more secure than her previous helmet, many times more protective and comfortable, too.
As far as her footwear, he'd made some custom boots for her to wear in place of her old ones, surprisingly more comfortable, too, but much higher, reaching up just below her knees. Part leather, not completely though, a lot of rubber and suede, some nylon too. A fairly dramatic upgrade from head to toe, more than enough for her as far as protection went.
"Now, I saw that sword of yours there went and snapped on ya, so I made ya a new longsword, too. Nothing too crazy, it's got a chamber in the crossguard that you can slot a lightning dust crystal into if ya wanna electrify the blade by pressing that activation rune just above where your thumb should normally rest, other than that, it's just a finely balanced blade of even finer craftsmanship. Comes with the scabbard, on the house like the rest of your new kit." The Smithy spoke as he presented her the new blade, taking her off guard with just how well balanced it actually was, being damn near perfect. The lightning dust chamber and electrifiable blade was a bonus, something that might add a little flair, too, but not something she was particularly concerned with. A decent, but niche addition to her arsenal she didn't legitimately see much practical use for, at least in combat.
All things considered, outside of style points, some measures to ease usage and some additional protectiveness she was basically using the same gear just in better condition. Suited her just fine, that much would go a long way in her favor for the days to come, she imagined. Besides, no need to get too flashy with it, and she was still trying to get the basics of sword and armor down, no need to throw additional things in to steepen the learning curve even further. For now, the armor felt good, well-fitted and well made, and her blade was sharp, strong, and balanced. They'd serve her well enough until the time came to replace them, too.
A simple, appreciative nod was all she gave to regard the Heinsmanns, before throwing the black cloak over her new armor and the other cloak, giving her a slightly larger silhouette than before but effectively concealing her identity once more, and walking out the door. She'd been plotting her next move while waiting on her new gear, there was an old castle, one "Alexian Castle," some thirteen kilometers southwest of Axenburg that was apparently home to an ancient if dwindling order of Knights who'd survived unto this day. If she remembered her history properly, the order were masters of the old ways, but ever since the rise of the International Hunter Association, had been falling out of relevance, now remaining as one of five remaining Knightly Orders that sat on the brink of extinction. Attrition and lack of interest in the old ways from more recent generations, few now had any desire to become a Knight as opposed to a Hunter, as the former was seen as ancient and outdated in the modern era.
While she wouldn't consider herself a Knight, she wouldn't exactly consider herself a Hunter, either, and this order, the "Knights Invictus," were reputed to be unmatched in mastery of the blade and armor she herself used. As she currently was, she hadn't the slightest clue how to properly wield her blade or use her armor, so learning from the Knights Invictus was the only logical next step forward on her quest to enact Retribution upon her betrayers... she could only hope they'd humor her request, and that the training wouldn't be so long that the traitors would perish before she could get to them...