FearingAKS

A Grimm War (a RWBY 1x1x1)

"Shit...maybe she didn't hear that," He thought. He watched frozen in place as she looked upwards towards him following from the downward trajectory the twig took to the ground. She has a good eye being able to find me so quickly in the dark. He saw her in the blink of an eye draw her blade and pull her hood back staring straight at him. Black scales covered her neck and reached up to her jaw and he thought he could almost see a red glow from her eyes. No way am I letting a dimuran close with me with that sword. I'd rather not tangle in close quarters with someone who could potentially toss me several feet with ease.

"Get down here, coward. High ground is hardly an advantage if you're dealing with me," She spat venomously. Oh she's an angry one. Best let her know I'm not threat to her. She seems like she probably knows how to us that sword pretty well too. As he is about to speak he see's her with her eyes still on him move into cover by the trees. A moment later he hears the crash of a cart nearby in the woods and the cries of fear coming from it's horses. "I hope you've got a good reason for watching me, because you're about to find out how well you can stand up against Grimm," She said quickly, turning and running towards the sounds of screams.

Well that was just rude I didn't even get in a word edgewise. He began running along the branch leaping a short distance to the next following above the dimuran towards the sounds of screaming horses and now screaming woman. The dimuran quickly threaded through the trees and Quentin struggled to keep up with her having to pick and choose his way from branch to branch. He heard a shout and saw the woman parrying and knocking back a large beowulf as it tried to bare down on her. He surveyed the scene from a branch overlooking the road the cart had overturned on. Both of the horses had already been torn apart along with the driver. The cart rested on its side in the middle of the road while a beowulf reaching down into the carriage where the screaming woman's voice emanated from. He heard what sounded like a mocking laugh from the other side of the overturned carriage and saw a flash of moonlight off of what appeared to be metal claws. Not to be distracted from the beowulf reaching into the carriage, he focused himself knocking an arrow to his bow adding a whisper of wind magic to speed the arrows flight. Like the thousands of times before he pulled the string back to his cheek, let his breath out, and loosed it. The arrow guided by his wind magic sped faster and more accurately than a non magi could hope to duplicate under similar circumstances. It struck the beowulf at the base of its skull and the creature immediately dropped on top of the carriage limp. Unfortunately, that seemed to cause the screaming to intensify. Several more shadows came charging out of the woods from the opposite side of the road towards them as he knocked another arrow and loosed it.

A Grimm War (a RWBY 1x1x1)

Stumbling deeper into the forest in a haze. A massive migraine throbbing between his eyes as he struggled through the undergrowth. No idea where he was going and no idea where to go. "Why..why wasn't I stronger? Now everyone is going to die because I was too exhausted to fight off the Grimm." He tripped and fell into a thorn bush and just laid there defeated. His mind drifted in a haze of pain as he hoped that his father got out in time. "What...what am I supposed to do? They can't fight all of those Grimm off. They could handle a few small groups of Grimm, but this was a veritable horde. Where had they all come from?" He had been practicing his magic in the woods all day from noon to well into the afternoon. Exhausted he had wanted to push himself farther than he'd ever gone and he'd summoned the largest lightning bolt he could muster. It had cracked out of the sky splitting an old oak tree halfway down the middle, causing half of it to come crashing down. He'd been so proud until the massive migraine struck him and he'd curled up into a ball for what felt like forever. When he finally had the strength to regain his feet and stumble back to town he didn't even notice the screams until he saw an Ursa rip apart the old woman who ran the bakery not fifty feet away. His father appeared by his side and led him away from town instructing him to hide and only come back when it was safe. His father left him to run back towards town determined to help as many townsfolk evacuate. He never saw him again.

Quentin jerked awake and looked around in a mild panic. A cold sweat covered his body and he shivered at the haunting memories of that day. He felt himself hanging over empty space and remembered. His father was dead. Everyone back home was dead because the Grimm wiped them all out. All the while he had been helpless as a kitten passed out in a bush with the worst migraine he'd ever had in his entire life. Later after his training in Vale to become a Magi of the Church he learned that this was called spellcast sickness. A punishment for magi who pushed themselves past their limits and used too much magic. Upon waking he'd walked into a ghost town picked clean of any life. Many years later he now swung gently between two branches from his hammock. Placed high in a tree, he was able to sleep out in the wilderness relatively safely while he hunted. These days he hunted Grimm over dear or rabbits. There had been sightings of a pack of beowolves not too far from the city of Vale and had set out to track them down. They had to be put down before they could endanger some farming family unable to defend themselves and too complacent living so close to Vale to understand the danger. His resting spot wasn't all that far from the edges of the city. He'd had a late start to his hunt and wasn't foolish enough to try and track Grimm alone in the dark. Something had woken him though. Some sound that wasn't in-tune with the rest of the surrounding forest. He hadn't been sleeping all that long either. Quiet as he could he lifted himself out the hammock and onto the large branch below it. Comfortable even so high up he adjusted his cloak he'd had wrapped around himself as a makeshift blanket and pulled his hood up to break up the form of his head against the canopy and hopefully make it harder for anything to see him at a glance.

He slid his quiver over his shoulder and made sure all of it settled right against his body. Attaching his sword sheathes to his waist took another few moments which he used to scan around him for any immediate threats that jumped out at him. Figuratively or literally. Once he finished he sat back against the trunk of the tree and pulled an arrow out of his quiver and gently knocked it to the string of his bow he had retrieved. Slowing his breathing he closed his eyes and listened to the forest. The ambiance and feel of life all around, searching for the sound or lack thereof that would indicated the disturbance. A few tense moments later he heard the quiet sound of soft footsteps coming along the path from the direction of Vale. He waited silently to see who would be walking around the forest at night alone no less. Only a fool wandered away from civilization at night with the threat of the Grimm ever present. Well..what does that make me, sleeping out here alone, he thought to himself with dark humor. Moments later he saw a figure in a cloak with their hood up, walking down that path that led right next to his tree. He noticed she walked with care and made little noise. It seemed unlikely that her light steps would have caused him to wake with this..feeling of urgency. Something wasn't right and he couldn't figure out why he felt so ill at ease. He continued watching the figure as they moved closer. He was so busy watching that he placed his hand out to steady his balance and broke a small twig from the branch he rested on. The sound felt as loud as the crack of a whip in the deep, steady silence of the night and he froze.

A Grimm War (a RWBY 1x1x1)

Name: Quentin Stormchapel
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Race: Muran

Weapon: A reinforced longbow made to handle a stronger pull weight. A large quiver with heavier tipped arrows designed to fell Grimm. Two worn slightly curved short swords for when combat gets a little too close. A full quiver of arrows is always with him along with five special arrows he keeps in a separate quiver for special circumstances.

Magic: Elemental- Uses to enhance arrows and to add some extra power into his sword strikes when needed. Specializes in the elements of lightning and wind. When fighting he binds elements to his arrows to give them added effects to kill Grimm or use wind magic to increase the accuracy and power of his arrows.

Appearance: He has short cropped dark brown hair with average features and deep-set grey eyes. He stands at 5’10 and has an athletic build. Often seen in a woodland cloak to better blend in to his surroundings along with well-worn breeches and broken in leather boots. His only real notable feature is hidden under his shirt. A deep scarred gash on his left should from an encounter with a Grimm when he was young. He wears light leather armor to ensure he can stay fast and mobile will still providing a modicum of protection.

Personality: Professional and straightforward on mission. Off mission he is sardonic and pessimistic. Suffers survivors’ guilt and often when able, tries to hide his pain in alcohol. He puts up a front of forced cheerfulness when he’s sober, but the more he drinks the more the mask slips off and the sarcastic, jaded side of him comes out.

Background

Background: Born in a small town on the outskirts of Vale. Stalking animals, killing, and skinning them was the trade he learned from an early age. He learned how to hunt and stalk his prey from his father. They made a living selling animal hides and meat in town. His father also taught him how to avoid the Grimm who tried to hunt them in turn. He learned early on to rely on his bow and keeping distance between himself and the Grimm. At fourteen he was gifted a beautiful bow with a powerful draw strength so that he could take down larger game or even Grimm. Training with his bow had been one of the focuses of his life and with this bow he felt like he could take down any prey he set his sights on. He discovered when he was fourteen he had a gift for elemental magic as well. It gave him hope that he could become one of the Magi of the church and give his family a more comfortable life. Unfortunately, his mother passed when he was fifteen from an illness that ran through the town and surrounding areas, decimating many families. At that point he decided he had to become stronger and get accepted for training to become a Magi. He would practice the different elements in the woods far from town where he couldn’t harm anyone on accident. One day after an exhausting session a large swarm of Grimm attacked the town without warning. Too exhausted to try and help fight the Grimm off, his father sent him out into forest to hide. When he returned the morning after the attack. No one was left alive. He found no traces of his father except the two swords he used and had been passed down in their family for generations. Half buried in the dirt next to a large blood stain he took them up, gathered some supplies and sought refuge in Vale. He was accepted into training to become a Magi and always treats work as seriously as he can. Outside of work Quentin has a rather pessimistic view of the fate of the world. “You reap what you sow”. A phrase his father always said stuck with him. Violence will always be returned upon you and living a violent life will eventually lead to an equally violent end. Regardless he can’t stand by as Grimm devour families and Quentin will continue going out to slay Grimm for as long as he’s able.

Quentin Stormchapel