RWBY: the reading of the witch princess of chaos
It was obvious to summer that something was wrong. She might not have been in her daughters life for long but she knew her own habits when something bothered her and ruby appeared to exhibit the same tells as she did. It was something that had always annoyed summer as outside of a combat situation she was an open book. Hiding her face in her cloak fidgeting or just simply playing with her cloak. Whilst minor things, once a person got to know her it was easy to tell when something was bothering her.
She could take a guess at what it was, it was her alternate. Allisara and ruby were very similar in many ways. They were loyal to those they considered friends and family, they both had a love for weapons (though Allisara seemed to have been enhanced slightly by her 'blessings'.) There were differences as well.
Allisara was an extremely confident woman whilst her little ruby was shy, Ruby was naive where Allisara was sadistic. And whilst both were good planners, Allisara took it to a totally different scale as ruby was a team planner whilst the alternate was moving armies in campaigns with ease.
This is what she felt was going on with her daughter, she wanted to be like her alternate, to have her strength, her confidence and her skill. This however made her feel bad as the girl she wanted to be like was also a sadist with little morals to hold her back, something that made her little girl feel disgusted as Allisara was technically ruby herself. This made her upset knowing that all of the disturbing things that was being enacted were all done by some one who was technically her. She was doubting herself. It was something that she was going to have to talk to her about.
The book flashed as they all entered the room and retook their seats. The general was the one that was now selected for the reading. What confused them was that a small note was attached to the book this time.
Dear reactors. This note is to inform you that there will be a filter upon this chapter to stop any influences from the viewed world from affecting you. This may happen in times after this as well. This note is just to reassure you that such influences will not be influencing you.
The group nodded as it was a reassuring thing as if these gods were as corruptive as they appeared then they did not want to be effected by them.
Chapter 9: Guide to Chaos - For Dummies
Naggarond
The screen showed the massive fortress city that appeared to have been carved from obsidian. The winds blowing around the massive edifice. Large tundras of snow as far as one could see. It was rather nostalgic for those from atlas as the landscape was similar there, It was also understandable why these people were so bitter, to have been exiled from what had repeatedly be described as a paradise to such a desolate land would be anything but a pleasant experience.
"What do you bring to me on your return, Allisara?" Spoke the chill wind voice of Malekith.
His glowing eyes were set forth on the scene where strange equipment was laid out on a table by Allisara. Beside them were the standard crossbows of the Druchii. They were within one of the many ranges used for target practice. Only today did they have the entire area to themselves for Allisara's demonstration, including Morathi. Her eyes were set on the purple crystals sitting by the strange devices Allisara claimed to have built after some discoveries in the new world. Alongside them were constructs of white and blue that only had the barest hint of the rifle designs of the Empire and Dawi.
"Well miss rose it would appear that your alternate shares your knack for creating weaponry" said professor good-witch though she was not sure if that was a compliment or not as it was clear that any weapon designed by this Allisara would end up being used against them in some manner.
"The fruits of the new world, Father," Allisara introduced, picking up an Atlesian rifle. "The humans in this world they call Remnant are a much more advanced sort. Their arts in warfare in particular. Weapons such as these are a far greater league than even the crude muskets of the Dawi and Empire. The destructive capabilities show this as well. As we observe."
Allisara looked forward and shouldered the Atlesian rifle. Despite the strange mechanics that made up the weapon, there were still vague similarities in other ranged weaponry that allowed her to aim it like a crossbow. Perhaps these rifles were in the evolutionary stage after crossbows and muskets if her world were to continue in its technological advancement.
Ozpin could only nod in resignation at this, the girl was very intelligent. To be able to deduce this with very little time just showed how intelligent she actually was. Not only had she figured out a vague background of a rifles design lineage but also learnt how to use them. Such potential.
As she aimed down sights, she straightened the rifle so the scope lined up with the tip of the barrel. Far down the shooting range was her target for her demonstration. Instead of using practice dummies or archery rings, Allisara took the liberty of using slaves who were suspended by tight chains clamped on their limbs to spread them out. Usually, the slaves would be screaming for mercy, but for the sake of focus, Allisara sewed their mouths shut to be rid of their whining.
Many within the room winced at this sudden reminder of the girls cruelty. Even in a situation such as this she was displaying the twisted way in which this civilization had raised her. It irked those from atlas more as they could see the pragmatic reasons for such things. Using a slave would demonstrate the effectiveness of the weapon as it should be when used in combat. Even the sewing of the lips was pragmatic if cruel way to do it as it was a demonstration. Raven however was smirking at the idea. It would help the newbies get used to killing and the effect that weapons had on their victims in the safety of the camp. An interesting idea. This girl was just full of ideas that she was now thinking of implementing when she got back.
They should be glad they can die today and instead they were begging for their lives.
Once the Druchii was satisfied with her aim, Allisara pulled the trigger and three bullets were fired in a burst shot. They crossed the distance faster than a bolt in streaks of blue. The slave only had time to widen his eyes before chunks of his head were blasted off in a gory fashion, leaving only spilled brain matter and mangled bone behind. She switched targets and continued firing the weapon to perfectly showcase the deadliness of the rifle until the clip was spent. The entire time, Malekith and Morathi watched with analytical gazes. Their eyes used to the high-speed movement could pick out the bullets fired, allowing them to see the Dust crystal propellant and tips.
The veteran hunters had wide eyes as it war usually only someone like summer who had a speed semblance who could do such a thing. True some of the more experienced hunters could make out a rough idea to be able to predict where the bullets were going and dodge, It was one of the reasons that the majority of huntsmen opted for a melee weapon as their primary as they used projectiles as a distraction tactic. But to actually see the bullets as they left the barrel was almost unheard of.
"As you can see, these weapons the monkeigh have are more advanced than most muskets made by the Empire and the Dawi," Allisara explained. "Where a musket needs every shot to be reloaded, the monkeigh in Remnant have developed a way to store ammunition into a chamber that would then feed into the rifle with every pull of the trigger. They can afford to miss with shots to spare."
"Hmm," Malekith mused in thought, remembering being peppered by those bullets by Allisara's birth mother. "Do any of our defensive means repel these missiles?"
"Surprisingly a few," Allisara answered. "On no doubt, these things will chew through standard armour and shielding like our own bolts and lead balls. However, heavy armour such as steel plate will offer resistance whereas our own bolts could pierce through. It's curious."
"Elaborate," Malekith commanded.
"The way these weapons are made down to the bullet isn't meant for warfare so to speak," Allisara said. "I found that they work best against the hides of beasts, like scales and fur. My theory is that these beast imitations, these Grimm, have forced the monkeigh to develop weaponry to eliminate them. That has ironically made them less suited to use against raw metal. The heavier, the better. If you're asking for the best defence against them, I'd say enchanted armour. Nothing close to your own armour or my own, but a little touch of magic will make these deadly arms inert."
Salem could not resist but chuckle at how the girl had not only accurately surmised the abilities of the weapon but also broken down all of its weaknesses. What made it funnier was the fact that she had also insulted the weapon by saying that it could be made useless easily. The look on the generals face was priceless as if you looked in his eyes you could see the rage at his weapons being called essentially useless.
Allisara paused in her explanation and reached out to grab an item for attention. It was a crudely cut piece of crystal, not out of the ordinary if it did not glow to the power writhing within it. The gem was a vivid red, and in her hand, Allisara felt an almost searing warmth.
"From their arms to their utilities, everything of their society relies on this," Allisara pointed out. "They call it Dust, but we know it better as pure magic crystallized. Not too different from warp-stone the rats covet, but without any of the... undesirable side effects. Perhaps the gods of their land are absent, therefore there is no mutation to occur in its presence. But I digress. It's this mineral they have used to advance so far, but it's also their greatest weakness. As it is magic itself, any spells or enchantments to dispel it will make their weaponry null."
"Fascinating," Morathi commented, her eyes gleaming with countless ideas to use this resource.
"What does she mean by that?" stammered out a paler than usual Weiss. She however was not the only one who was pale as all of the hunters went pale at this.
Salem just innocently smiled at the girl. "exactly what she said, dust being crystal magic is susceptible to defensive and nullification magic's. As a people who use magic on a daily basis it should be obvious that they would develop such abilities" said the grim queen getting a reluctant nod as they had developed weapons and along with that came the development of armours and walls as defences.
Giving her grandmother a smile, Allisara chucked the chunk to Morathi, who caught it in a field of telekinesis that led it to an open palm. Once her fingers latched onto the Dust, a wicked smile split her face, excited to see what secrets she can exploit from this solidified magic. Allisara then turned to her father, who stood stoic as ever and his mask never showed what expression was beneath if there was any.
"An adequate presentation," Malekith said. "But I trust you have more to show than this."
"Of course," Allisara curtsied. "Ultimately, their weapons are useless to us. Not only would it be a waste of time to steal enough to arm ourselves, but we also wouldn't know how to manufacture their ammunition. So I did the next best thing, took them apart, studied down to the last bolt, and reverse-engineered them for our use."
On another table, Allisara pulled away the tarp and revealed the new rifle that lay underneath. It was sleek and black in a typical Druchii design with inspiration from the Atlas rifle. The barrel was adorned with black iron spines like a drake and a curved bayonet was fixed at the muzzle. Down to the stock and behind the grip, the chamber was mostly hollowed out for a purple crystal held between two miniature spires in a horizontal position. It seemed an ordinary magic focus but if one looked closely one would see a ghostly face wailing out in agony on the surface.
There was a grimace as proof of their worst nightmares became real. Allisara still had Rubies expertise with weapons. Ruby would take practically no time at all to examine ad be able to replicate such rifles as she already had a background and the knowledge of their world, Allisara had little of either so it was obvious that it would take longer but with her knowledge of magic it was no surprise that it took less time than it should have.
That was a soul gem.
"Observe," Allisara said.
She took it up and aimed down sights. Her thumb flicked at a knob till the point was set at a certain calligraphy in Druchii. Allisara smiled when her target down sights squirmed in his trapped state. When she pulled the trigger, bolts of lightning sparked the soul gem, and purple light emitted up all the way to the muzzle. Once pulled all the way, the shot that was released wasn't a bang but a cacophony of agonized screams of the damned. Unleashed from the muzzle was a wide-spread wave of energy that almost looked like miasma if it weren't so fast. The unfortunate victim wasn't given the chance to widen his eyes before the blast overtook his body eviscerating flesh and muscle till all that was left were bloody bones. After a moment when the blast passed, even the bones crumbled apart to the floor like dusty pottery.
"I've modelled a line of weapons that use our own methods with added upgrades," Allisara explained. "The biggest change from the Monkeigh weaponry is replacing their ammunition of this Dust with the use of soul gems. One of these weapons can run on a soul gem for weeks on end instead of needing to load it up again like a crossbow or musket. I've added my own touches, such as changeable modes from the blast mode you have witnessed to an explosive and regular firing mode. As for utilizing the soul gems themselves, all that takes is using the same methods in Soul Braziers in tormenting those that are unfortunately trapped within."
"So you've weaponized agony into these new weapons," Morathi said in excitement, her smile turning into a twisted hunger.
That comment almost made Salem salivate, especially at what was shown upon the screen. The weapon was immensely powerful. And to think that a little girl had created it.
The general was caught in a dilemma, on one hand he wanted that weapon as It was insanely effective on the other it disgusted him by how it was powered. It was however not the worst thing he had done in the name of his species survival.
It was no surprise that the younger generation had turned green with ruby and jaune sprinting for the nearest bathroom to be sick.
Allisara preened. "You won't find any better ranged weaponry in all of the worlds."
Her eyes were locked on her father. Malekith did not meet the gaze with his eyes set on the snowy plains and the results of her target practice. A long moment of silence hung between them, making Allisara quite anxious. His hands went folded to his back before he answered.
"Well done," Malekith stated.
He only spoke two words, yet the joy Allisara felt from them was nearly euphoric. Did Malekith have no idea just how much his words of praise meant to Allisara? Or perhaps the Witch King did. There were ways to tighten the strings on one's subjects.
"I trust that you will share these designs with us," Malekith said, causing Allisara to straighten her back. "Weapons such as these will be a great boon for the wars to come."
"Of course, Father," Allisara obeyed. "I will have Seras gift you and Grandmother the plans. But a word of caution. Don't let the slaves try and build these. This is nothing like making a crossbow. It's like kicking them into the meat grinder instead. As such, I've made these plans so only sorcerers can understand and create them."
"Just make sure it's done," Malekith pressed. "For now, I would have you here. Consider it a break from your conquest if only for a little while."
"I sense there's something else to my supposed stay in Naggarond," Allisara said.
"Indeed," Malekith said, turning around to stare down at Allisara. "The winds carry a sombre tone. War is coming and Chaos is writhing. We must prepare. For now, I will leave you under the care of Morathi. She will ready you when the time comes."
This caused Qrows eyebrow to raise "well if that was not ominous I dunno what is" complained the drunk only to get smacked on the head by his friend.
As Malekith walked off without a goodbye, Allisara stood there in confusion. It wasn't like Malekith to speak so vaguely. His words were usually more blunt than a war hammer. She didn't have much to ponder when pale, cold fingers latched onto her shoulder. Slowly, she followed up the limb from the blackened fingers to those dark violet eyes of Morathi. The smirk on her face was absolutely devilish.
"Don't worry, little one," Morathi cooed like a sweet poison. "I'll make sure we get to spend some quality time."
Allisara couldn't help but gulp. Suddenly, the thought of vacation was proving to be a lot less exciting.
Yang could not help but chuckle at this. The fact that this ruthless and confident woman was actually preferring the battlefield to spending time with her family was amusing to the blond. Not that she could complain as her father had a habit of embarrassing her and her mother, well the less said the better. The only one she had been spending time with from her family during this was mama summer.
(Malekith's Palace; Black Library)
"Why couldn't Grandmother torture me instead of this!?" Allisara seethed.
To the Hag with this shit. She'd rather be the subject of one of her grandmother's experiments than this utter boredom. That was all that raged within Allisara's head as she stared bored at the ancient papers of the open book. Instead of whatever wicked games she expected, Morathi had saddled Allisara with some selected reading within the palace library. Or perhaps this was one of her grandmother's sick games. It was not the fact Allisara hated reading, but she loathed being stuck in one spot for long periods of time. Allisara could already feel herself itching to kill something the longer she sat in that chair.
Team RWBY and JNPR could not help but laugh at the beet red girl that was seated with them. It was a known fact that due to her semblance ruby was hyperactive. This was only made worse due to her young age. So to see her alternate suffering from the same thing was amusing, though they suspected that the threat of killing something was more than likely a real one that she would follow through with.
The Witch Princess groaned for what had to be the fiftieth time and slammed the book shut. She pushed it away from her person to the other side of the desk she sat in front of; a long table really made of ebony wood crafted to a fine smoothness to rival a mirror. This particular spot on the second floor was facing the railing of the balcony where Allisara had a view of the library hall below her. All around her and on the walls were shelves filled with a vast collection of historic and arcane knowledge gathered by the Druchii for thousands of years. It was not a farce to say the collection went into the tens of thousands, and Morathi herself held a greater, more forbidden wealth of knowledge in her home in the south.
Weiss could barely contain herself. Remnants oldest library was only hundreds of years old and whilst the scrolls could access information from even further back it was mostly things that could not be exactly verified as they were from archaeological digs. To be able to sit in a library with books that were thousands of years old was incredible. What made it worse was she would never get access to it. She almost started to cry at this injustice.
The book joined the rest of the disorganized mess on the other side, but it was dwarfed by the stack of tomes to Allisara's right. Beside her was a lamp of purple flame to give her light in her readings. Allisara groaned and leaned back into the plush chair made of purple cushions and pale wood. She didn't want to do this, but the fact of the matter is she had no choice. While Morathi requested that she needed some literary study, those who knew the almighty sorceress that she never makes requests. Theoretically, Allisara can simply get up and leave, but there is the possible danger of whatever magical fuckery waited for her if she did.
She'd prefer not to face a horde of Slaneeshi daemons. Just the thought of a whole hall filled with those sluts FILLS HER WITH SO MUCH RAGE HER BLOOD BOILS F̴͕̙͈̯̩̅͗͐̃̓̄̊̂͆͌͐̃̎Ú̴͖̝̲͍̣̦͇͍̳̲̜̩͆̒͊̈́͘͘͘Ĉ̷͉͙̺̬̭̯̙̮̻̳̺̖̳̩̉̈́͂͋̈̓̿͑̈͋ͅK̸̩͍͉͈͐̃͊̈́̉͗Į̴̛̜̙̞̬̼̞̫͕̖͙͍̙͓̆̉̉́̂̾̓̅N̸͙̝̙͓̲͔̳͙̯̱͉̈͛̈́̾͜͝G̶̟̦͈͇̺̺͎̞̖̙͌̄̂̏́ͅS̴̢̛̳̼̣̝͔͆̏͗̓L̷̛͎̼̪̲͉̺̱̙̞͇͉̘̹͈̿̂̋̈́̒͐̀̊̾͗͑͑͜A̶̛̠̹͖͌̏̊̿̐̀̐A̴̰̻͂̿̊͑̽̓̉̋̓͗͊͘̚͝͠Ṇ̴̡̧̜̩̣̟̤̬̩͓͖̓͋́̚E̸̡̨̞͉̹̥͓͇̬̩̻̗̫̠̋͋̆̋̓̄ͅS̵̤̳̘͋̄̆͗̃͛̈́̄̉͝͝H̷̛̛͍͚̞̗͍̜̻̠̼̒̇̉̀͘̕̚!
This got more than a few raised eyebrows. So far it had been a very rare occurrence for Allisara to become enraged, more often finding amusement than anger. Whilst they could not help but agree with not going against the sadistic sorceress was the best course of action to take.
Allisara summoned her iron will to calm down the overflowing rage so she wouldn't literally boil her blood. Her hands clenched tight as her left palm reddened and grew claws. Her other hand reached up to her neck where the mark of Khorne burned into her flesh. As the seconds passed by, Allisara was able to calm herself down and the power of the Blood God receded away.
Thinking about anything noted to the Prince of Pleasure was a mistake. One could call an offset with all of the perks being marked by the Chaos God of War. She may have great strength and resilience few could ever attain, but with it came the unbridled rage of Khorne. Especially if it came to facing followers of Tzeentch, but even thinking about anything related to his hated rival Slaanesh threatened to turn Allisara into a rampaging monster. It was through her connection and devotion to Khain, Lord of Iron and Eldar God of War, can she gain clear clarity. But the need to kill would simply double.
Such is the way with a vessel made for war.
This confused the younger hunters It was not until raven spoke that they understood. "There is no such thing as a free dinner" muttered the bandit queen. However upon seeing the confused looks she sighed "for every thing that is good, such as her enhanced speed strength and durability, there would have to be a negative." explained Raven. "since she was blessed by the war gods she would gain aspects from them such as her rage as she mentioned." this gained nods from those around her, it was Salem who continued next "she would also have a hardwired reaction to that gods enemies. Like the brothers being opposites and their followers having animosity thus should be the same for her" explained the Grimm queen.
Ozpin however was saddened as being someone who was 'blessed' by the brothers he knew that despite all of the positives there would always be a downside which normally scaled with how much of a blessing that was received.
Deciding that maybe picking up a book was far better than swimming in her thoughts, Allisara summoned two from the stack with a snap of her fingers. They laid haphazardly in front of her, both of them old and thick with pages. She looked to the one on the left. Bound in average-grade leather, it was not particularly a book of great renown based on appearance. Magic within the library had kept the book in pristine condition, allowing anyone to view its contents without wear and tear. On the spine of the book, a title read to her in plain text:
Sigmar: A Man Who Ascended to Godhood
This caught the attention of those in the room. Who was this Sigmar and what had he done to achieve such a thing?
A scowl crossed Allisara's face at the title and she pushed the book away. Morathi and Malekith have told her more than a few times about the mortal that rose to divinity. When humans in the Old World were still a bunch of barbaric tribes, a man known as Sigmar Heldenhammer was born. He along with the war hammer known as Ghal Maraz united those tribes into a powerful force that would one day become the Empire of Man.
What infuriated Allisara was why!? Why is it that a mere man managed to gain godhood through his own sheer will nonetheless!? Yes, this one man accomplished much with a legacy that lives to this day, but so has Aenarion and her own father. Why not them!?
And it wasn't like Sigmar left this world. No, that would be too convenient. His legend as a man and his ascension created the great cult of Sigmar that dominated the Empire, and Sigmar was a very active god to his people. His miracles performed by his followers were as real as the rituals for Khain. And by no means was he a weak god. In fact, throughout the entire realms of men, he was quite literally the biggest pain in the ass to the machinations of Chaos.
In her head, she could feel the seething rage of Khaine and Khorne. Her thoughts bled into the Immaterium to her patron gods and they knew her anger intimately well. It just...
IT WASN'T FUCKING FAIR!
Did Aenarion not bleed as much or even more than Sigmar did!? Where this man was fighting goblins and Orks, Aenarion was fighting against the unquenched hordes of Chaos themselves thousands of years before Sigmar's own birth. And what did her grandfather get in return!? A dead wife, a cursed bloodline, and an empire that would betray his own son!
Ironwood could not help but sigh at this, It was true that sometimes the most worthy of such things did not get them as in history even some of the most celebrated generals were actually nothing more than paper pushers but the commanders that lead the battles were never heard about as it was forces commanded by, Thus it was that the real heroes were forgotten and the supposed to be non entities got the credit. As they say life is not fair.
Her nails were starting to claw into the wood, ruining its perfect surface. When the sound reached her pointed ears, Allisara realized she had allowed her rage to take the better of her again. She snarled in frustration of herself and tried to reign her emotions back in. She was better than this. She was the Witch Princess; not some hormonal teenage slut!
Allisara turned her attention to the remaining book. This one was more articulate in designs mainly white with trimmings of gold and etchings of blue in ancient elvish. Even with the magic of the library keeping the knowledge it contained properly, there were still signs of wear and tear on the book. By the elaborate designs on it, this text originated from the land of Ulthuan, written by the hand of a high-ranked High Elf scholar. This had to have been in this library since the days of the separation of Druchii and Asur. There was no title or anything written on the cover or the spine. But what was strange about the tome was the taint that stuck to it, like whatever words written within these pages were cursed for whatever they spoke of.
"It would seem that this is why the filter was placed" said Ozpin taking a draw from his coffee mug. The unsaid part of his sentence being that what was about to be shown was probably going to be important and to take notes. Though some of those in the room missed the subliminal message the elders did not.
Her curiosity peaked for once, Allisara opened the book to the first page. As soon as the weight of the cover was gone, a cloud of dust was released right as Allisara breathed through her nose. The result was the Witch Princess going into a coughing fit while using her left hand to blow away the dust from her breathing space. But once she breathed in the dust, there was something off about it. For those particles carried a certain taint.
When it was settled in her lungs was her mind coaxed by the feel of the Immaterium.
She heard the familiar snarl of Khorne.
She heard the boisterous laughter of Nurgle.
She heard the maddened cackle of Tzeentch.
And she heard the husky hiss of F̴̡̨̱̞̙̼̘͓̟̗̮̤̭̬̣̉͊̋̒̑̀̌Ủ̷̧̪͈̖̭̘̱̗̺̟̬̫̆̍͒̌̒Ḉ̴̛͚̫͕̻̮͐̓͠K̴͓̫̘̲͎̮͎͠͝͠O̵̗̙͙̯̭̻̬̮̮̙̯̞̗̫̊̀F̶͍̼͕̭̃̅̓̉̅͆̓̏̄͠͝F̵̨̹̝͚͙̩̟̯͍͓̩̼́̓̍̅̈̆͋̂Ş̵̨̺͚̤̠̼͑̓̅̑͗Ļ̸̮̪͖̹͍̼̪͉͖̃̿̌́̏͠Á̷̛̮̱̮̝̗̤̣̟̪̲̟̘̐̇̆̂̓͂͜͝A̶̢̰̼͔͍̔̇̈̒͐̆́͘N̴̨̤̙̭̜͉̳̜̠̮͆̌͛̔̃̑̈́̓́̓̚̕ͅE̸̙͎̰̳̦͕̜̯̭̩̅̓̍̏̇̌͗̇̀̈́͐S̷̡̹̖̯̮͓̹̞̲̺̣̪̍̾͗͗͗̓̕̚͜ͅH̴̨̠͓͚̩̠̫̃̽̎̊!
Allisara winced as this time she felt Khorne rage at the influence of his arch-nemesis trying to seduce her. She liked the pleasure of the flesh like any living being to just above average degree (in her opinion at least), but she was in full agreement with the blood god there was no way she would ever be subject to the depravity of Slaanesh's debauchery. Besides, half of her soul has been shackled to Khorne anyway.
This drew a gasp from summer and Tai as that was not something that they had been expecting. Both yang and ruby however were turning a light shade of green again. The idea of some deity literally owning a part of her soul horrified them.
"I don't see why you are shocked about this" came the calm voice of Salem. Upon receiving glares from the family and their friends she decided to elaborate. "You knew that this 'Khorne' had moulded her into one of these elves, naturally he would not do so for free?"
This despite not dissipating their anger did however make them feel silly as they had been so focused on the small signs that there was a possibility of getting their little girl back that the idea of such a thing as having her soul anchored to these war gods had never even occurred to them.
Well, now she knew that this book was definitely cursed by Chaos, albeit in a very subtle way. It was not like the taint was intentional, but the very words written in this book made it so. She wondered how that would be until she found the author on the first page open to her.
Namys Choyer
Now that made sense; this was a Book of Choyer. Choyer was a very famed High Elf scholar for his adventure in writing down the history of the world, exploiting the secrets of unreality, and trying to solve the mystery of Chaos. All of Choyer's works were prized by historians and more to the point sorcerers for his works on the Immaterium where all magic comes from. However, the latter of his volumes sank deeper into forbidden knowledge and cursed writings trying to uncover the secrets of unreality. Those of Ulthuan have locked them tight in holdings far out of her people's reach. As for the author himself, his delving s into the machinations of the Chaos Gods cost him a fate far worse than death.
The book before Allisara was one such volume. It practically stank of Chaos. Under the author's name was a short text of warning from Choyer himself. It read:
Beware thee who dare to open this text of mine. Even as I write down these words, I can already feel my mind fracture under the accursed s' grip. My meditations into the Immaterium and the home of the Chaos Gods have cost me dearly. All I sought was to write down the knowledge of the unknown so that what I do will help my people in the wars to come. What words, the very letters, that lie within these pages I have gleaned from the machinations of Immaterium and I have paid the price. This is your last chance to turn back now, or else the eyes of Chaos will fall on you.
Allisara scoffed. "Too late for that."
Yang could not help herself but chuckle. The girl had literally been created and bathed within this chaos stuff so she was severely understating the situation. It was only when she noted a certain kitties glare that she shut up with a contrite look upon her face.
She turned the page, giving her the introductory paragraph of the book. For a moment, the words on the page flashed in colours of pink, blue, green, and red till they settled back on faded black. A normal man would mistake it for a trick of the light, but Allisara knew it as the usual Chaos fuckery. She continued to read:
Passed the borders of Norsca, across the Sea of Chaos. Beyond the boundaries of sanity and the laws of nature stands the ruined gateway of the Old Ones. Oozing with darkness and spewing mutated energy - the raw stuff of Chaos. It is a bleeding wound, a tear in the fabric of reality. A gateway to another dimension. The shattered gate appears as a great ring circled by stone machinery, dwarfing the mountains around it. It is covered by runes of unimaginable potency that glow in the darkness, their dancing shapes altering reality. From the darkness pours out the Wind of Magic and mutated clouds of Warp-stone dust.
The room was silent as despite what they knew about the gods of that world, they still knew very little. They knew that there was many gods all with their own authorities and pantheons but other than that the only two that they knew about where Khorne and Khaine. This was their first proper opportunity to learn about the 'Chaos pantheon'.
The Realm of Chaos is home to many entities of great cosmic power. It is a hellish realm where daemons roam, serving entropy and the long night. These creatures consist of thought alone and those thoughts are truly terrible. Only fools claim to understand Chaos for Chaos is inhumane and incomprehensible. Wise sages and mystics who dare to tread this realm only go mad. Some have claimed that Chaos, in its eternal diversity, has spawned an infinite number of gods, each the collective mirror of one of the many survivalist emotions projected by intelligent beings in the mortal plane. Others say that the many apparent different gods are no more than aspects of one supreme being.
The Great Unnamable One.
The Abomination.
The Eternal Destroyer.
The Unmistakable Beast.
The Chaos Undivided.
This description alone was shocking. One god being many and many being one. It was no surprise that they were so powerful if they were powered by the very thoughts and emotions of the material. They must be immensely powerful.
'Ooh, shiver in my boots,' Allisara thought sarcastically.
But she couldn't deny how she felt her mind stir as she continued to read these words. There was a certain 'shake' in her soul when the words of Chaos Undivided met her eyes. So what she can get from this book was a very detailed explanation of the realm of the Chaos Gods, possibly even describing the gods themselves and their homes. Well, she knew which of the Chaos Gods she had any interest in knowing. Tzeentch? She already had magic power from Morathi's tutelage. Nurgle? The nasty walking cancer in unreality can keep his plagues. And, well...
TO OBLIVION WITH THAT SLUT GODDESS!
All that was left really was Khorne. The Blood God, the Lord of Brass, and the war god that she technically has to own half of her dedication to. Magic stirred from the book as it reacted to Allisara's thoughts, flipping through the pages till it came to the right chapter. The words that met her eyes blazed in crimson as if the ink itself was drenched in blood. As Allisara read the words, they echoed in her mind with a daemon's pious snarl.
The Lord of Rage. He whose hooves have scorched the earth and claimed it as its personal theatre of war. He awaits at the edges of the world upon a throne of skulls knowing that all blood must return to him. The mightiest of all chaos gods. Khorne.
A growl, born of steel and endless murder, hissed in the right corner of Allisara's mind. Apparently, Khaine had words to dispute such claims as the mightiest.
Khorne is one of the four dark entities that comprise the forces of Chaos. His dominion is violence wielded in all shapes and forms. Hence it is no surprise that in a world ravaged by war and slaughters he out of all four other chaos gods would be considered the most powerful as it is not necessary for any mortal to praise the Lord of Blood to grant him strength. Every act of violence from the most innocent to the most brutal from the most honourable to the most hateful all surges back to Khorne.
This caused some widened eyes. True they had been given a rough idea of the relationship between the worship of deities and their strength worked but these gods of chaos seemed to work differently from the others. Which ironically made some sort of sense as they were gods of CHAOS after all.
Before Allisara could continue reading, a disturbance in the real world took her attention away. Her pointed ears twitched at the very faint sound, something uncommon for the sharp senses of an elf. Allisara forced her movements to be still to not betray how her body became tense. Beneath her skin, blood flowed more smoothly and muscles flexed ready for danger.
Elven ears and eyes were sharp for any disturbance in her peripheral view. Yet no shape moved in the shadows nor any alien sound reached her ears. Perhaps the earlier abnormality Allisara sensed could be assumed to be a trick of her senses. Even ancient races like the Druchii can admit such things. But Allisara was not like the rest of her people. The Witch Princess knew better, far more than most did.
Her senses hardly play tricks on her. Besides, she had a little ace up her sleeve. Or rather on her neck.
Winter had had her scroll out taking notes of anything of importance from the slightest detail about the senses of an elf down to where the gods derive their divinity. So the second that she realised that this might show a weakness she started noting everything down until she heard about the ace. This was going to be important so she readied herself for shorthand note taking. To ensure that she got everything.
Where the brand of Khorne burned bright on her nape, telling her of danger. Not in just the sense that her life was in danger, but an entity was trying to off her through the coward's way.
Khorne may be the god of blood and war, but he was also the god of honour.
This gained a few raised eyebrows. They had all assumed that the chaos gods all had negative aspects. They had not expected for at least one of them to have what would normally be considered a good archetype amongst their authorities.
Among the many things he hated, the chaos god hated tricksters and cowards. He hated those that would dare attack him from behind without provocation or open challenge. The best way to explain Khorne's quality was when he exiled his greatest Bloodthirster, the Greater Daemon Skarbrand. Ages ago, Skarbrand was the most favoured of Khorne's generals, having won victories in his god's name time and time again. The most powerful Bloodthirster ever known, but at the height of his fame, it all went crashing down when the machinations of Tzeentch clouded Skarbrand's mind feeding the Greater Daemon of deadly aspirations that sit him in place of Khorne's throne. The result was the Bloodthirster of Khorne striking his own god with all of his might. It was a blow of absolute total devastation to crack the world in twain, yet all it did was chink Khorne's armour.
To Ozpin this was terrifying as the brother gods despite all of their power and the reverence in which his people had held them he had seen them be injured and it was by and attack no where near as powerful as this that was described it truly showed the differences in power of these monsters.
And Khorne was thrown into a hellish rage. His wrath did not stem from Skarbrand attacking him. In fact, the god of war would relish his own champions challenging him. No, what made so angry, so full of rage that had Khorne toss Skarbrand from his realm with such godly strength that the Greater Daemon had flown for eight days and nights, burning his wings and reducing the Bloodthirster's psyche into a rabid monster from the lauded general he once was. Such rage from the blood god was only born because Skarbrand struck him from the back like a coward.
"Well at least he has his priorities" said a deadpan spartan. As she herself held her honour in very high regard. What she did not like was the fact that all her efforts of defending her people were going to feed such a dark creature.
The brand on Allisara's neck served as a blessing gifted to Allisara in her victories in battle. It was known as the Coward's Folly, and the mark would burn whenever a coward would try to strike her outside open combat. The brand continued to burn in intensity the closer the entity approached even though nothing reached her ears. She couldn't act in haste; only when the time was right. The closer it approached from behind, the fiercer the brand burned. Idly enough, the smell of burning flesh reached her nostrils and the skin around the mark was starting to blacken and blister. She bit down on her lip, refusing to let a whimper of pain so as to not give herself away to the enemy.
Allisara didn't act when the brand continued to burn. She didn't act when a crude blade of a wickedly green edge slid under her chin with a smooth motion that none would notice. She didn't act when a second and third blade softly pointed their tips at her back and neck respectively. The world seemed to sit still as if drawing in a breath before continuing the next moment.
The room was holding its breath as they watched from a third person view of what was happening. One of the disgusting rat things was right behind the woman with blades In its paws ready to slice her head off with the one in its tail also ready to stab its target. From the way the creature was moving it was clear that it was an assassin of some sort. Thus it was as they watched they could only hold their breath for what was to come.
And when the blood in her veins burned with fire and more importantly strength. Finally, Allisara acted as she simply flexed and a chill wind exploded off her body freezing the ground in ice tinged in purple. It was enough to stagger her unknown assailant as the blade underneath her chin came into view. Once she saw the blade in its crude make and its edge oozing with tainted power, Allisara widened her eyes knowing exactly who the assassin was.
She tried to turn around, but the assassin was far too agile to make out before it moved behind her over the table. Something wrapped at her heels and with surprising strength hauled her whole body till she was left dangling beyond the balcony and over the first floor. Her vision swam till it settled on an upside-down view of the world, but it was enough clarity for Allisara to see her assassin.
Dressed in black cloth and bits of metal here and there was a Skaven. A literal mutated sentient rodent for the only thing that made it look close to humanoid was the effect the Skaven stood on his hind legs. Beady red eyes stared at Allisara with cold hatred. Other than that, it looked no different than a regular rodent physically. Feet and hands contained digits of pink flesh ending with sharp nails. The Skaven's head jutted out lined with crooked teeth, two of which stuck out at the front that were wickedly sharp. From behind the Skaven was the pink length of its tail, which it was using to hold Allisara up.
They watched as the girl released the burst of magic causing the assassin to stumble slightly giving her the chance to move. The rat however had already recovered and jumped with surprising dexterity to the other side of the table whilst wrapping it strong sinewy tail around the girls ankle before yanking her leg out from under her and throwing her over the edge. Dangling upside down they could see a stare down occur.
Regular Skaven were not that dangerous, but the one before Allisara that managed to get close to her was no ordinary overgrown rat. By the blades he held and the black garments he wore, this was a Skaven assassin, one of the most dangerous living weapons in the world. Known as Esshin assassins, they are bred and trained from birth by Clan Esshin to be the finest deadly killing machines. That sort of renown was proven when these very assassins managed to kill high-end officials such as an emperor of mankind and infiltrate Ulthuan itself to kill a prince without anyone the wiser.
Raven could not help but whistle at this. It took some real skill to pull such things off. She could do it with atlas but whether she could get out was questionable...well if she was not using her semblance it was questionable. If she was however it was easy.
The only reason Allisara wasn't dead was because of Khorne's blessing never to be taken off guard by an assassination attempt. And by the black fur adorning the Skaven, the Esshin Assassin was a step above his own peers. Her eyes caught the swift movement of those green-tinged blades known as Weeping blades - weapons forged with raw warp-stone - making their way to slice her neck clean through. Allisara's arms moved just in time to intercept the blow with her right forearm taking the Weeping blade with the toll of clashing metal and the other hand grabbing the limb of the overgrown rodent. The Skaven may have been fast but she was stronger, and the unexpected defence put the Skaven off guard for the moment to backhand the rat across the face. The sudden blow made the Skaven stagger, thus loosening his hold on Allisara and allowing her to slip out of the assassin's hold. She tucked and rolled down on the first floor, crouched down on three of her limbs like a nimble cat.
It was almost in slow motion with which they watched the blades near her only to be blocked and for her to grab, then pull the assassin into arms reach followed up by a vicious blow to its face causing it to stagger and the girl to drop and roll into a graceful ready position ready for the fight to begin proper. Blake had to admit that the girl was very good at recovering from the fall but considering she had dropped off of a dragon in mid flight and came out fine it should not have been a surprise.
The Esshin assassin jumped down as well, a snarling hiss escaping from the metal mask that covered most of his face. With the element of surprise lost, a stand-off went on between them. As the two circled each other, the rat-man used his tail to withdraw a third Weeping blade. This gave the Skaven the capability of using three weapons that cut through the metal like butter. When Allisara looked at her brace, she frowned seeing a deep chip in the dark iron that just missed her once in quite a while. This would not be an easy fight. Just a touch from those blades on her bare skin will prove fatal from the malignant toxins coating them. Yet even with the risk to her life, it didn't keep down a sharp smile on the Druchii's face.
Her blood boiled at the prospect of a worthy opponent. His skull will be a fine gift to Khorne.
"To have an Esshin assassin come after me," Allisara said. "My, my, I'm flattered."
"I am sorry to say this sister, but your alternate has a strange sense of flattery." stage whispered yang to l a light chuckle from those around them as it was clear that the girl had been using the banter to distract the beast.
"You-You die-die this day!" The Skaven spoke in its stuttering tone with much more baritone than its brethren.
Allisara flashed a deadly smile, but she was in a dangerous situation. She didn't have any of her weapons on hand and most of her armour was gone. With the exception of her bracers and boots, only black silk remained between a Weeping blade and her skin. The only advantages Allisara possessed were her magic and the wards of the library at her disposal to assist her.
This all suddenly stinks of her grandmother's machinations.
Salem could not help but chuckle at this, it did in fact sound like a set up, well more like a test or training but still it did sound like that sorceress style of operating.
With an unspoken signal, the duel commenced. The Skaven was the first to move, leaping forth with expert acrobatics and fluidity that even elves would not match. In the millisecond between them, Allisara summoned a pair of swords made from Blade-storm to arm herself. As constructs of magic, they served as the perfect defence against the Weeping blades as they slid against the tainted steel. However, she was forced to dodge out of the way of the third wielded by the tail by bending back till she was perfectly parallel to the floor. The sword only managed to get a few locks of her hair, but the Skaven's momentum kept on going till the Weeping blades sank into the wall.
Yang could not resist the chance to tease her sister. Normally the girl was too innocent for such teasing but from watching this the girls naivety was long gone so just could not help herself
"Wow sis, your girlfriends must be really happy with that flexibility" said yang to the confusion of ruby, the rage of Tai and a slight blood trail coming from not only the guys in the rooms noses but Blake as well. It was definitely not because she was reading, Interesting literature, nope definitely not.
The assassin used the stuck blades as a vantage and perched on top of his own weapons. With his now free hands, he reached into his cloaks and threw out shurikens and throwing daggers at speeds to rival a freshly fired crossbow bolt. Allisara used the brace on her left arm as a makeshift shield to deflect the projectiles, but it gave the Skaven the time to renew his grip on his weapons and leap forward into the storm of his own thrown weaponry. Allisara clicked her tongue, annoyed she had to resort to the wards of the library. They would provide her a stave to ward away any of the projectiles and give her free room to deal with the Skaven. With a twitch of her finger, she reached out to the wards of the library. She willed it for the effects... and nothing happened.
The shock of the wards' lack of response left her open and she was forced to yet again block the Skaven like last time. Unfortunately, it left her open to the onslaught of projectiles and Allisara gasped at the stabbing pain of shurikens slicing through the flesh of her sides and kunai stabbing themselves into her back. She growled and winced at the same time, feeling pain shoot up every time the muscles flexed with steel stuck in them. One of her hands reached to her side to pull out a shuriken that got stuck between her ribs just barely missing her lungs.
The sound of her own blood splattering down on the stone floor reached her ears. Allisara wanted to go into a blind rage, but the cold iron discipline forced down by her father chained it down. She recited the words of her father. Anger was only a weapon when it was controlled. So she controlled it, using it as shots of adrenaline every time pain shot up from her wounds. It allowed her to gain the clarity she needed when facing the likes of an Esshin. She was also aided by the added benefit of this 'Aura' healing her injuries. Already, Allisara could feel wounds slowly sealing shut and whatever knives stuck in her flesh were slowly being pushed out. In moments, Allisara's injuries would mend like they never existed, but the Esshin assassin was not a foe to let his victims recover.
The fight continued with them watching the details, the rat-man over committing only to have its blades sink into the wall but with a quick action the rat flipped onto its own blades before hurling weapons at her. They saw the confusion on her face as the 'wards' as she called them did not react. It was hear that they heard a hiss of pain from the weapons impacting her.
His movements were a blur as he twisted in a dance of spinning death with a bladed tail and dual swords. Even Allisara's eyes struggled to clearly see the assassin's movements and she had to prioritize the Weeping blades that would mean her doom. She renewed her grip on her mystical blades and flowed more magical energy into the constructs to emit more intense light. The Skaven opened with a swing of a Weeping blade held in a reverse grip. An attack that was then feinted with the blade stabbing into the ground and then lifted upward, sending a cloud of dust to obscure Allisara's vision. A flash of green within the cloud was her only warning before the princess defended herself. The Weeping blade met the magical construct, sending magic flailing wildly through the air. In the same second, the other Weeping blade came in for a stab. Using the weapon in her left hand, Allisara switched to a reverse grip to block it and then forced the Weeping blade down till it stuck to the ground. Next came the third flashing towards her head like a scorpion's sting. She tilted her head to the side, but her eyes didn't lose track of the Skaven who was moving to use his fourth weapon: his front teeth.
Allisara knew she could not afford to let those teeth rip out her throat, so she opted to counterattack. With all of her might, Allisara struck with a knee kick landing straight into the rat-man's stomach. There was so much strength in the blow that not only did it stop the assassin's attack entirely, but it lifted the Skaven off the ground. Allisara smiled wickedly when her ears picked up the sound of bone crunching.
"I can see why these Esshin are such successful assassins" said Ironwood in disgust. The fact that it was using its tail as another weapon would disorientate a large number of people who are only used to tracking one or two weapons. This creature had 3 blades as well as its literal claws and fangs. A formidable foe if trained well.
Whatever pain the Skaven was under, the Esshin fought through it just enough to spring back with the use of his tail. In two backflips, the rat-man grew the distance between them where he paused due to his injuries.
The Skaven coughed out a mouthful of his own blood onto the floor and a hand trailed to his sternum where several ribs were piercing his lungs. With the Skaven distracted by his injuries, Allisara charged in finally able to press the attack. But the Skaven still had a few more tricks up his sleeve. With the same hand he used to caress his injury, he slipped inside his coat to retrieve a few small pellets. He roughly threw them down to the ground and they exploded to create a thick smoke that filled the entire chamber. She was only an arm's reach from the Skaven before her vision was obscured. Her blades arced over his position but only met empty air that was quickly filled with thick smoke.
Coward's Folly burned yet again on her neck, alerting her to attacks outside of her own attention. Its intensity allowed Allisara to keep track of the assassin within the cloud of smoke, but only when he attacked. Neither sight, hearing, nor smell aided her in finding the overgrown rodent. The mark's burn intensified, and Allisara turned around to meet the points of two Weeping Blades half an arm's length from herself. She leaned back on instinct to avoid the blow, but the last-minute dodge was not enough for the Witch Princess to go completely unscathed. The third Weeping blade lashed out and scored a slash across her right shoulder, burning pain raced through Allisara's whole being, enough for the Witch Princess to let off a scream.
Ruby could not help her gasp. It was a version of herself that was fighting for her life here and whilst she might not like what this version of her had become she could not help but be afraid for her. It was most definitely a strange experience.
Her weapons were forgotten in motes of light as the pain brought her down to her knees. Allisara looked to the source of a deep gouge in her shoulder cutting through muscle. Along with her blood also oozed the green taint of warp-stone. A deadly toxin of a Weeping blade that was said that a nick was fatal. The pain was certainly a testament to the claim as her body spasmed in agony. Her grace was her Aura healing the damage, but it was a constant fight between the toxin eating at her body and her Aura repairing the damage as quickly.
Summer grimace at the description. Poisons, she hated poisons, they were such an underhanded weapon it disgusted her. The thing that really made her was that the magical nature of the weapons made the aura practically useless, thus the healing aspect would be the only part effective. This worried the mother as after all this was a version of her daughter.
The smoke cleared and Allisara glanced behind her to see the Esshin assassin slowly accost her. There was no need for the rat-man to be stealthy and lithe any longer. He was sure of his victory the moment the Weeping blade cut into her flesh. Now the Skaven showed his vile cruelty in the crooked smirk that stretched his maw. If there was some victory for Allisara, it was the fact the Skaven had to put a hand on his chest where it was aching with pain.
She would not give the Skaven the satisfaction of her pained expressions and forced herself to glare murderously at the rodent. In fact, Allisara was determined to wipe away his grasp at victory. Her options were unfortunately limited. She couldn't use her legs to give her a boost of speed. Just trying to flex her muscles caused a new wave of agony through her body, so she was forced to kneel on the ground. Magic was out of the question; she wasn't confident in bringing out a spell fast enough and more importantly silently so that the Skaven would not notice it.
That left one option. Her eyes trailed down to her brace, thicker than the usual armour she wore. Within was a prototype Allisara had yet to test. Originally, she had another in her right brace but the Weeping blade made quick work of that. All she needed really was a flex for it all to work. This can work with the biggest advantage being that the Skaven was now in his most vulnerable state. With the prospect of victory so close, the overgrown rodent will let his guard down to feed his wicked nature in savouring the kill.
Whilst what she said was true they could not help but wonder what plan she had to take advantage of the weakness. They could not help but wonder what this prototype she mentioned was and why it was so important.
All Allisara needed was for the overgrown to get closer.
'C'mon, I'm right here,' Allisara said, the pain through her body making her sense of time distort. 'C'mon, come on, I'm right here.'
"Do it," Allisara urged, "DO IT! KILL ME! I'M RIGHT HERE, YOU PRIMITIVE RODENT! COME ON! DO IT!"
In the middle of her raving, Allisara could already feel the cracks in her psyche. The rage of Khorne threatened to break out and consume her body in a bloody frenzy. But the Witch Princess didn't want that kind of win. If she was going to kill, she wanted to be at least a little bit sane doing it.
By now, the Skaven was close enough that Allisara could smell his putrid breath. He was just out of the range Allisara was confident in. She stomached how the Skaven leered down at her with a sadistic grin. The Weeping blade was put under her throat just a centimetre away from slashing her jugular apart. Then, the Skaven leaned forward so he had a close view of Allisara's eyes so he could see the life fade away.
But now he was close enough for the princess to strike.
The song of unsheathed steel rang through the halls and the Skaven quivered as he felt a blade go through his sternum. It was delivered with such speed and force that Allisara's fist dug into the flesh of the assassin and the blade went through the other side. Even still, the Skaven did not let go of his blade, even as his hand spasmed uncontrollably. The Esshin assassin looked down to find Allisara's left arm had made its way to his chest where the bracer was now protruding a blade that gleamed in silver.
Raven was liking this girl more and more, she fought dirty, she had a lack of morals and was a good leader. Yes raven was liking this girl more and more. This however just cemented it. She had hidden blades as hold out weapons. It was even getting to the point that she was taking notes as reference material for later.
That wasn't the end of it even when the blade began to hum with growing energy and glow a purple hew. A purple jewel set near Allisara's elbow sparked with electricity, eliciting a shriek that could come from a man having his skin flayed while alive. It soon climaxed in a loud, low-pitch 'PEW', not only sending the Skaven backward into the wall but leaving a giant hole in his chest cavity that only left a few strips of meat to hold his sides together.
The Esshin assassin was dead before he hit the ground, and Allisara can confidently say that her new weapon was a rousing success. Those thoughts were cut off by the sheer agony that came back with a vengeance. Around her body, her Aura flickered before finally shattering, leaving Allisara to the tender mercies of one the world's most deadly poisons. She was reduced to three of her limbs to keep her steady while Allisara used her remaining hand to clutch at her chest. Each breath was labour and each pump of her heart was another ache of pain.
'I refuse to give in,' Allisara thought, her fists tightening till her nails drew blood from her palm.
"Did she just!" gasped out Qrow in drunken shock at what he had just seen. "It would appear so" came winters response, she herself was also in a state of shock. They had known that the girl had created a rifle style weapon ready for mass production but to think that she was already experimenting with the idea to create other weapons was both amazing and terrifying.
Just as darkness was clouding the far edges of her vision, a pale hand landed on her wounded shoulder. There was a small second of sharp stinging pain then all of it vanished. It was as if some unseen force had taken hold of the poison in her veins and halted it in place. Finally taking in a breath that wasn't heavy with pain, Allisara looked up to meet the face of Morathi. Her expression was unusually neutral with her lips set in a thin line and the eyes did not betray whatever feelings Morathi had underneath.
Allisara did not meet Morathi with a look of gratitude. There was a slight snarl to match a certain Dark-blade directed toward her grandmother. With her mind clear of pain and adrenaline, certain dots were connecting. From why she was put into the library to how on this day an Esshin assassin came after her at her lowest.
"You set me up," Allisara accused.
Morathi's lips twitched upwards. "You were overdue for a test."
This caused raven and Salem to smirk at the blunt acceptance, it was stating a fact not an accusation. The professors and hunters were disgusted by it. Whilst they could see a positive from such an act, being actual combat experience, it was however a disgusting thing to do.
The trainees where in a state of shock. Her own grandmother had set her up for assassination all for a test? It made absolutely no sense to them.
The hag didn't even deny it. Why would she? Dangerous tests like these were not the first for Allisara, but this one was the most deadly. It first started in her youth being suddenly assaulted by slaves that went mad by the influence of the Prince of Pleasure. Some were the same, but none of the following were even easier than the last. They would progressively become more difficult with Allisara having to kill feral Cold Ones, a maddened hydra, and ambushed by daemons; all while bereft of her equipment.
Morathi may have been her grandmother, but no one was a stranger to her sadistic nature. She was a deadly viper to all, her own son included. After all, this was the sorceress that started the split within the elven kind. She founded the Cult of Pleasure in the very heart of Ulthuan and employed the daemons of Slaanesh, the Chaos God that made its very existence the bane of all elves. If there were lines Morathi didn't cross, Allisara did not know of them and she suspected neither did Malekith. Khorne hated Morathi for the stench of Slaanesh that clung to her.
"We will talk later once we deal with your latest injury," Morathi said. "A poison like this isn't easily purged. But those that own your soul will save you, with payment of course. So for now, let go."
Morathi tapped a clawed finger on Allisara's temple. Within her mind, she felt mental restraints snap and the flood of pure maddening rage and thirst for slaughter swept through every pore of her body. Her red eye blared with a renewed intensity, burning like hellfire, and the veins of her left side as her blood boiled to a crimson shimmer. On her right side, the need for slaughter had the whites of her eye turned pitch black and her brow was replaced by iron that seemed to grow from her flesh. Her fingers transformed with the digits becoming brass and the nails turning into claws of iron. Her left arm bulged as flesh mutated to dark red scales glowing with tainted energies between them. Allisara gave hacking coughs but instead of blood, she belched out molten slag of brass and iron.
Ruby could not help but wince at the changes her other was going through. She had broken an arm when she was young and that had hurt a lot. To have poison running through you whilst changing into the next best thing to a ravaging beast sounded not only painful but also terrifying.
"And the best payment is slaughter," Morathi cooed, and with a wave of her hand the doors of the library.
Out in the hall was an orgy of slaughter between Slaneeshi daemons and slaves. They were practically scores of them. The latter of which was being slaughtered as thorny tongues ripped their flesh apart and crab claws pinched their limbs apart. Those who were killed were the lucky ones as the Slaneeshi daemon took their time in taking as much pain from their victims or even trying to do other obscenities. For Allisara, the sight of daemonettes of Slaanesh put her over the edge. All coherent thought was drowned out by rage and slaughter.
And all she desired was carnage and...
"BLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODFORTHEBLOODGODBLOODFORTHEBLOODGOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOR!"
She was soon upon them in a blur, the pain of the poison forgotten as she swam in an ever-growing carnage. Daemon and slave were reduced to bloody meat by her limbs and teeth ripping them all apart. All the while, Allisara bellowed only these lines of religious praise.
"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"
The daemons of Slaanesh tried to mount an offence. One came in close, wanting to use its crab-like appendages to rip Allisara's arms off. In the blink of an eye, the crab arm was ripped off, which was then used to bash at whatever was alive around Allisara till the faces were turned into mush. The daemon with the missing arm was given the special treatment of Allisara shoving both of her arms into its chest cavity. It was lifted above Allisara, where it shivered at the red-hot fury in the Druchii's right eye. It knew no more when Allisara tore the daemon in two, showering the girl in blood and gore.
"MURDER FOR THE MURDER GOD!"
Heads were wrenched from their necks. Slaves found their throats bitten off, and the walls were drenched in liquid life. A daemonette was used as a weapon till it was reduced to a lone leg. None were given mercy. All their lives were gifts to her hungry gods.
"SLAUGHTER FOR THE SLAUGHTER LORDS!"
None knew of the ultra-violent carnage that happened within these halls. Before the end of the hour, neither daemon nor slave would be alive in those halls near the library and Allisara freshly restored by the gods of war would be sleeping in the flood of blood and gore she caused. In the meantime, Morathi cackled madly at the beautiful slaughter before her eyes.
Wasn't her granddaughter just precious?
Tai could not help but stare, he had thought she was brutal on the battle field, oh how wrong he was. On the battlefield she was graceful, she was brutal but at all times she was in control. This however was pure unadulterated carnage and the fact that his little girl was the one doing it terrified him to no end. Then there was that mad woman, he was not sure whether he should thank her for looking after his girl or kill her for looking after his girl. Maybe he should do both.
Extra Snippet
(Within the Realm of Tzeentch)
His - or could it be she? - was Kairos Fate-weaver - or was it? - the most valued Greater Daemon to the God of Magic, Trickery, and Hope. Appearing as an avian humanoid with blue feathers, he differed from his brethren with the addition of two heads. Each head looked in different directions of time. One always looked to the past and the other scoured the possible futures. The cost of such an ability was that Kairos could never see the present.
Kairos' job for Tzeentch was fairly simple all things considered for the Great Plan. He, with his unique gift, was to record every possible future for this master's plans. Mastery of the arcane allowed the Greater Daemon to do his job as leagues of parchment twirled around him like a storm with legions of inked feathers scribing down the futures he saw. Sometimes, those futures featured things that were out of the ordinary. Sometimes they encroached on times not of this world. Futures that Kairos couldn't believe existed at all, such as Khorne himself walking onto the physical plane to fight himself.
Kairos was seeing such a future that was becoming more apparent by the day. Before his eyes, he was witnessing a clash between blood and darkness. Between reality and unreality.
A battle between gods.
The room was quiet with shock. A battle between the gods was a horrifying and terrifying thought. Even when the brothers had cursed humanity they did not actually battle they just up and left. So to hear this terrified those in the room except for Salem who smiled as it meant that her revenge was much more likely to happen than it ever has before.
He knew one of them of course. That form was different, but it was his master's rival all the same. Khorne himself, finally fighting himself for the first time armed with either hammer, sword, or axe. A detail of the future that was different with each second. His opponent, the one that made Khorne himself come out of his realm to fight himself was strange. Kairos expected it to be Khaine or even Sigmar, but this god was different. It was a god rooted in the physical plane of reality.
A god of the natural world, wreathed in darkness and crowned with a pair of curled horns. He stood before Khorne wielding a sword that ate at all it touched and armoured in bone. Names entered Kairos' mind, alien to their origin.
The Void Dragon.
The Antithesis to Creation.
Bringer of Destruction.
Creator of G̵͈̣̙̔́̈́̓̕ṙ̸̪̱͎̔͊̐ḯ̵̭͎͔͊m̸̛̯͉̂͜m̶̨͔̺̭̫͑͐̚͝.
God of Darkness.
...M̴͓̜̲̳͇̹͇̽͂͂́̓͒͐̒͜ą̶̛̜̩̲͕͎͈͈̞̏͛g̷̻̤͆̑̎̒͑́̀̂̈́͆̂̃̃̕͝'̴̨̼̣͉̲̘̠̯̮͉̰̆͗̇͜ļ̶̟̗̤͓͓̳͔̭̪̝̜̩͌a̶̧̢̨̳͖̼̱̘̪̤̔̈d̷̢̢͍̪͉̻̩̻̞͚̼̩̆̓͊͒͐̆̚̚͝͠r̵͉̯͈̼̓͊̈͌͠ơ̵̡̘̠͔̝̩̣̮̫͊̓̋̽̄̓̎̓̅͒̋̆͝͠t̵̨̰̞͕̘̞͕̰̜̳̭̮̮̺͇́̈́̌̈́͛́́͘͘̕͝ĥ̵̥͇̖͙̜̺̮͔̙̦̟͜
Ozpin was horrified, the dark brother returned? But they had said that they would only return once the artefacts had been united and even then they would only come to cast judgment. What did this mean for the hidden war? What did this fore tell of the future?
Growing evermore curious, Kairos continued to look at this future that was becoming more possible. He was then borne witness to an awe-inspiring clash of gods.
Khorne roared in excitement. "C'mon! Show me this star god I've heard so much about!"
Sword - or was it axe - crashed against a sword of destruction. The reality itself was barely withstanding the exchange. The chaotic reality of the Warp whipped out only to be restrained by the darkness of reality. Hellfire eyes bore down at pits of unrelenting darkness.
"This is the god that murdered humanity because they hurt his feelings!?"
Both backed off and instead of using his hammer, the blood god instead chose to use his fists. Sharpened knuckles stuck the Void Dragon across his jaw and was sent careening back with a shoulder check. Mountain and rock mattered little in stopping the Void Dragon and was only stopped by the God of Darkness anchoring his own hands and feet into the ground.
"You insult me by holding back like this! Let the God of Darkness out! LET ME SEE THE MONSTER INSIDE!"
The god of reality dodged out of the way of a thrown sword, folding his wings to dive down onto the blood god. His heels met the armour of Khorne and they both fell through the rock of a broken moon. They broke apart when the Void Dragon slammed down the blood god. He charged in, letting loose a flurry of blows cracking at Khorne's armour till he finished with a punch to the jaw. The Void Dragon raised his left arm forming a kite shield of bone and darkness to bash it into the blood god, only for Khorne to catch it. They ended up with the Chaos god being pushed back till his back was against a mountain.
"You know my past?" The Dragon growled.
"The one who ended the War in Heaven or the kin-slayer who feasted on his brothers?"
Salem and Ozpin were in shock at hearing this! Kin slayer? War in heaven? What were they talking about? The others in the room were in a state of shock as the battle played out, few of them actually taking ion what was being said between the two.
Khorne recited with hidden glee. "Yeah, I know all about that..."
"Then you know what I am capable of!" The God of Darkness exclaimed, suddenly pushed back by Khorne and forced to roll.
"Then fucking show me!"
And so did Khorne charge recklessly to the Void Dragon. The god of reality held his sword by the edge. As he ran his palm over the weapon, the steel warped and changed till it took the form of a great axe. And so as Khorne threw the first blow, the God of Darkness ducked underneath and scored a hit with the axe biting through the armour of Khorne and coming upon blood. The blood god staggered back as for the first time his armour was pierced and with his hands, he saw his own blood for the first time.
And the blood god smiled ferally. "NOW WE GOT US A FIGHT!"
A hammer(?) struck the god of darkness across the face, sending him twirling in the air and crashing through a whole mountain range. He was stopped when Khorne stomped down on him, creating a crater that scarred the very Earth. The blood god brought down the hammer and the dark god was forced to catch it with his bare hands. Both arms shook as both great deities contested their strength against one another.
"You think you can steal our Cathayan prize, become a daddy, get a clean slate!? That ain't how it works! You're a destroyer, like me!"
The god of darkness was held by his throat, his bone armour cracked and his sword lying beside him. Khorne fared no better with his armour once thought invincible showing visible stabs in it. Still, the deity stared defiantly at what was an abomination in his eyes. Khorne stared back with his weapon raised in his free head. But it was what Khorne said next that pushed the god of darkness over the edge.
"And your little half-breed? We all have plans for her."
Something flashed in those dark eyes, and M̴͓̜̲̳͇̹͇̽͂͂́̓͒͐̒͜ą̶̛̜̩̲͕͎͈͈̞̏͛g̷̻̤͆̑̎̒͑́̀̂̈́͆̂̃̃̕͝'̴̨̼̣͉̲̘̠̯̮͉̰̆͗̇͜ļ̶̟̗̤͓͓̳͔̭̪̝̜̩͌a̶̧̢̨̳͖̼̱̘̪̤̔̈d̷̢̢͍̪͉̻̩̻̞͚̼̩̆̓͊͒͐̆̚̚͝͠r̵͉̯͈̼̓͊̈͌͠ơ̵̡̘̠͔̝̩̣̮̫͊̓̋̽̄̓̎̓̅͒̋̆͝͠t̵̨̰̞͕̘̞͕̰̜̳̭̮̮̺͇́̈́̌̈́͛́́͘͘̕͝ĥ̵̥͇̖͙̜̺̮͔̙̦̟͜ rammed his horns into Khorne's skull. Dazed by the blow, his grip slackened allowing the reality god to throw a haymaker with a mighty roar, creating a tremendous shock-wave that obliterated reality. It was a blow that thundered across the entire world and then shook through the Immaterium. It was felt through the Warp, rippling through unreality like a cascading wave. The great helm of Khorne was reduced to brittle scrap and the god of darkness screamed. It was a blow fuelled by a certain emotion, a protective instinct. An instinct of a f̸̡̛̫̱à̸̮̫̹͕ț̸̰͈͈̃̉̏͌͠͝h̷̛͍̫̗̰͆́̆̚͘e̴̼̽̏̚͝ŗ̶͙̯͇̖̫́͊ͅ
And Khorne took the blow head-on. He felt something crack painfully in his jaw, and for the first time, Khorne tasted HIS blood. His sharp tongue licked in his cheek to find a tooth in the back to be loose. Even his head felt dizzy as the god had never experienced such a powerful blow by any being in his existence. Not even the might of his rivals compared, always playing the game thrown way. Yet, Khorne was not angry. Not at all.
Instead, the god of war and blood chucked. Finally, a god that can throw a fucking punch and make it hurt!
"There he is," Khorne chuckled heartily, putting his fingers into his maw to pull out a freshly broken tooth - sharp as a canine's fang dripping with blood and made of sharpened brass - the first that had ever been dislodged from the war god's jaw. "There's the god of darkness..."
Kairos' vision of that future was snapped away. Those events were quite heavy in whatever way they would play if they were able to affect the Greater Daemon in such a way. Rarely has it happened with one of the only times when Sigmar became a god and a brief vision of the End-times. At all that been had seen, Kairos did the only sensible thing.
He laughed.
Every one in the room sat quietly. The shock of what they had just seen permeating the room with no one having any idea of what to say or do. Thus it was that they all quietly stood and made their way to get food and then bed. They needed time to process this.