Chapter 243 - My CO Stash #43 - Beneath a Broken Moon by Unseen Lurker (SkyrimXRWBY) (2/2)
As if realizing they had lost the element of surprise, six were... beowolves charged him from different directions, claws ready to rend and tear.
Chain lightning arced through the air, incinerating the three beasts in his field of vision, after which the mage rolled forward to avoid a vicious swipe at his back. As he rose, lightning turned to ice and the offending monster was knocked into a tree by the massive spike of ice impaling its gut. Tristard turned to the two remaining ones, who had stopped their charges when they saw their brethren's fate, and were beginning to circle him, looking for and opening to strike. They were larger, bulkier, and had a few scars, which if Tristard remember what Ozpin told him correctly, meant they were older, smarter and likely more experienced in fighting humanity.
He reached for the axe on his back and held it in a battle stance, the red filigree glowing brighter, as if anticipating the coming slaughter. The creatures eyed the weapon wearily, there was something about its wickedly sharp appearance that made them restless.
”Not quite as... flashy as what you are probably used to facing, perhaps...”
The axe's blade ignited, bright orange flames fading into wisps of green and purple.
”... but Gurahyol comes with its own set of tricks.”
Breaking the standoff, one the beowolves pounced on him. Tristard dodged to the left and lashed out, lopping off the creature's arm and immediately cauterizing the wound. Its pained howl was cut short as it fell to ground in a strangely stiff manner, and Gurahyol went through its skull before the paralysis wore off. The last remaining one tried to reach him as he removed the weapon, but he was ready for it.
”IIZ SLEN NUS!”
The beowolf found itself trapped in thick layers of ice, the mage merely walked up to it, and swinging in a wide arc, beheaded the thing.
With the fighting done for the time being, Tristard couldn't help but remember how many times back in Tamriel he had surprised his opponents with this weapon of his own creation. Mages, while feared for their power, we're generally considered weaklings when it came to physical prowess, one of the reasons Nords disliked them so. Many had assumed the same about him, and few had lived to regret their mistake. It was amazing how so few people seemed to be aware of the existence of battlemages. And while it was true that, like most bretons, Tristard had a great affinity for the magical arts, unlike most bretons, he had been an experienced thug long before he had learned his first spell.
Remembering something else Ozpin had told him, the mage examined Gurahyol. The paralysis and flame components of its enchantments had been effective, but sure enough, its magical charge hadn't been restored in the battle, and the soul trap hadn't activated. Grimm truly had no soul. This might become a problem if he didn't find another way to recharge the weapon.
Filling this information for later research, he started leaving the clearing, when a loud hissing noise was heard. Only his well-honed battle instincts allowed him to jump out of the way as something lunged at where he had been, creating a large crater on the ground.
The creature rose and turned to face him. It was massive, to the point that most of its serpentine body was still hidden by the foliage. Pale white scales shined in the clearing's light, it's grey, red-mark bone mask covering only the top of its head, a head that was marred with burns so severe parts of its skull were visible. Its left eye had been burned off, leaving only an empty socket, and its right one glared at the dragonborn, an eye that showed nothing but maddened pain and hatred.
Tristard g_r_o_a_n_e_d.
”You again?”
The king tajitu lunged once more, intent on killing the one responsible for its torment.
”WULD!”
The mage disappeared from sight, not to mention from the way of the attack, and reappeared near the Grimm's body, lodging Gurahyol's blade deep into it. The snake hissed in pain as more hideous burns were inflicted upon it, and a great force slammed into Tristard from behind, sending him flying through the clearing. Trough bleary eyes, he noticed he had been blindsided by the creature's other half, it's lifeless black head being used as a battering ram. It would seem his fireball spells the other night had been more effective than he expected. Taking advantage of the its opponent's disorientation, the serpent surged forward and began constricting him. Glee joined pain and hatred in its eye, the prey's weapon was out of reach, ironically still stuck to its body, and its pitiful attempts to break free from its coils were doomed to fail. Revenge upon this human was near.
Tristard grinned.
The beast's first mistake was believing its victory was assured.
Its second was turning him so he could stare at what it believed was his impending demise.
This had begun with fire. It was only fitting that it ended in fire.
”YOL TOOR SHUL!”
An inferno sprang into existence, hitting the surprised monster's face. The Grimm's world became fire, it became agony.
It became darkness.
The charred stump where the head had been fell lifelessly to the ground, and Tristard escaped the loosened coils, wincing as he did. It would seem the beast managed to break a few of his ribs, but that was easily solved with a healing spell. He looked at his handiwork.
”You should've taken the hint when I blew up your faces.” He grumbled as he dislodged his axe from the corpse, and finally began making his way North again.
/
Shocked silence reigned over the Amphitheatre.
When the prospective hunter had suddenly stopped in the middle of a clearing and whispered something, a few eyebrows were raised, but it was soon made clear he had noticed the Grimm ambush. Then he had used lightning and ice to dispatch most of his foes, with no apparent usage of dust, much to everyone's confusion. Wasn't his semblance intangibility?
When he had drawn his strange looking axe, which obviously lacked a foldable frame, Ruby had jokingly told Jaune that apparently, he wasn't the only one with an appreciation for the classics.
Then the thing set itself on fire, again with no apparent dust usage according to Weiss, and he proceeded to dispatch the remaining beasts, once again confusing everyone when he froze a Grimm solid by literally screaming at it.
And now he had just turned a king tajitu into barbecue, also by shouting at it.
”How is he doing that?” Weiss wondered out loud, as she tried to understand what she had seen.
”I don't know.” Pyrrha was equally perplexed. ”But I think we were wrong about his semblance.”
”What do you mean?” Blake asked.
”I don't know how he created lightning and ice without dust, but every time something bigger than that happened, he shouted those strange words beforehand. If I had to guess, I'd say those were his semblance.”
”A brilliant deduction, Ms. Nikos.”
The group nearly jumped, at the unexpected voice, and looked at the source that was standing right beside them.
”Professor Ozpin.” Weiss said politely. ”Could you please elaborate. How can words be a semblance?”
Ozpin gaze never left the screen. ”From what he explained to me, Mr. Soverick calls his semblance ”Dragon Shout”. In times of need, these words come to the forefront of his mind, and by shouting them, he is capable of creating several effects to turn the tides of battle in his favour.” The headmaster took a sip as the group's eyes, as well as those of everyone within earshot, widened in surprise. This guy had an incredibly powerful and adaptive semblance.
”That is so awesome!” Ruby and Nora shouted excitedly, stars twinkling in their eyes.
Before anyone else could speak, a loud growl caused everyone to turn back to the screen, and quite a few to gasp in alarm.
”Oh, my.” Ozpin said in a curious tone. ”I wonder how he'll work his way out of this one?”
/
'This is getting very close to being labelled as one of those days.' An annoyed Tristard grumbled in his mind. Let it be known that if there was a word to describe the Dragonborn's luck, that word would be ”unpredictable”.
Sometimes, he could make the journey from Fort Dawnguard to Solitude, basically from one end of Skyrim to the other, without any major incidents.
Others, he couldn't go from Rorikstead to Whiterun without being attacked by at least 5 bandit groups, 3 trolls, a band of giants with their respective mammoth heard, 2 dragons and a homeless Khajiit on skooma (Disturbingly enough, the hardest one to get rid of, the son of a whore just wouldn't. Stay. Down.). And thus he began to label these days, when everything went wrong and even the Gods seemed to be out to get him, ”those days”.
The reason for which he thought today qualified as such?
The beast that had stomped out of the woods to meet him. Ursine in appearance, it was massive, a colossus of muscle and bony spikes, the black fur of the Grimm seen only through the spaces between white armored plates, marred with the scars of hundreds of battles. Dwarfing the Ursae he'd fought the other day, it was an Alpha in every sense of the word.
Another tense standoff was had between man and beast.
But while the man prepared for battle, the beast simply stared at this interloper into its territory, a calculating, intelligent glint in its eyes. For Grimm grew not only bigger and stronger with time, but smarter as well. They began to be able to strategize, to reason on a primal level, to act against the bloodl_u_s_t and recklessness that marked their younger years, which was why the older Grimm were considered top level threats that only experienced teams of hunter should engage. This particular Ursa had been around for a long time, it hunted and was hunted in return, and what it saw in front of it was no human prey.
It saw a fellow predator, fangs bared, wings stretched, and fire pulsing in its jaws.
It realized that if they fought, there would be no victory.
And so, with a final growl, the beast turned and made its way back into the woods, leaving a slightly confused Archmage. After a quick use of Aura Whisper to make sure it wasn't a trick, Tristard merely shrugged and went on his way.
”Alright, perhaps not quite one of those days... yet.”
/
Complete and utter silence.
That's what filled the Amphitheatre at this point, as every single student stared in shock at the impossible scene.
It ran.
The Grimm ran.
That went against everything they knew. The Grimm were relentless monsters, they never stopped until their prey was dead, or they were. And here they saw someone who had scared off a gigantic Ursa just by staring at it. Who the heck was this guy?
”Interesting...” A pleasantly surprised Ozpin said to himself.
”Professor Ozpin.” A stunned Blake asked. ”What just happened?”
”Ms. Belladonna, you are aware that the older a Grimm is, the stronger and more intelligent he becomes, right?” The headmaster answered, and most of those around nodded.
”Well, as you could plainly see, that Ursa was quite old, a veteran fighter, and whatever it saw in Mr. Soverick, it seems to have decided it wasn't in its best interest to fight him.”
Ozpin was quite pleased, Tristard was doing quite a good job of proving his worth. Perhaps too good a job, judging by the awed expressions of many of the students.
Yang stared at man on the screen as if that would solve the mystery that he represented. Slowly, a smirk appeared on her face. Soverick, uh?
She really wouldn't mind if he joined their team.
/
A few hours and dozens of slaughtered Grimm later, Tristard had finally reached the temple, which consisted of a small circular ruin, with barely standing walls and pillars, and within he found his objective.
”Relics my arse.” He muttered, as he looked at various chess pieces spread in a circle of pedestals. Now he just had to choose one...
His eyes stopped on one particular piece.
The White Knight...
...
Had prophecies always been this easy to understand or was he just getting better at it?
With a shrug, the Archmage grabbed it.
/
”YES! The awsome newcomer is one of us now!” Ruby and Yang cheered as they high-fived each other.
”He'll certainly be interesting to work with.” Blake said with a smile. Weiss kept silent, and while she wasn't as happy as her teammates, she was somewhat pleased. At least the guy had proved he could hold his own.
”Indeed.” Ozpin said with a satisfied smirk, he knew the misplaced mage would understand the admittedly rather obvious hint. ”I'll have to take care of the paperwork, but as of right now, Mr. Soverick has become the official fifth member of team RWBY.”
”Oooh.” Ruby was nearly jumping in childish enthusiasm. ”I can't wait to meet him. I've got sooo many questions. How did he pull that lightning and ice trick? How does his axe work? How...?”
...
Enthusiasm became dread.
”Oh no...”
/
”Well... shit.”
In the small amount of time he was inside the ruin, the open field around it had been filled with beowolves, the horde he had escaped from the other day if he had to guess, eagerly waiting for the chance to tear their escaped prey apart.
Eh, they were just beowolves, he shouldn't have any major prob...
”SCCCRRRREEEEEEEEE!”
”When will I learn to stop tempting Fate?” He sighed in exasperation, as two of the raven Grimm, Nevermores he recalled, soared overhead. They seemed smaller than the one he had seen being killed, though. The beast's brood, perhaps?
This time there would be no ”airship” to pick him up, and there was no cliff he could jump...
Oh well, it wasn't the first time he faced insurmountable odds, and he'd be damned if he let it be the last.
Still on the relative safety of the ruins, he called upon the magicka, and has a blue glow appeared in his hands, he waved them in arcane patterns, and cast the Dragonhide spell, it's light blue brilliance surrounding his whole body before fading into a faint outline.
After that, he reached into his robes, and removed a blue phial. He'd have to use them sparingly, but the current situation more than justified it. Moving his mask slightly, he drank the whole thing in one gulp, and immediately felt his magicka reserves restored.
His preparations done, the Dragonborn walked out to meet his enemies, Gurahyol resting on his shoulder.
”The creatures of Grimm, they call you...” He stated while facing the horde.
The Grimm were confused. This lone human prey, he did not fear.
He did not fear, he did not hate, there was no emotion coming from him other than calm, resolute acceptance.
”For millennia you have preyed on mankind...”
Slowly, but steadily, an aura of power manifested.
”For millennia you have sought our destruction...”
Under this presence, the beast grew restless, nervous even.
”...And for millennia, man has weathered the storm.”
Even in their young, reckless minds, they were beginning to see what the Alpha had seen.
”Let us see if you can fare any better.”
It was far too late.
”STRUN BAH QO!”
For what seemed like an eternity, but were actually a few moments, silence reigned over the Emerald Forest, as if it knew what was coming.
As if Nature itself wished to avoid what was coming.
And then, the skies of Remnant erupted in fury.
Chapter 3
It came out of nowhere. Like a beast waiting in ambush it fell on them.
Clouds, black and thick, suddenly darkened the bright blue skies. A breeze picked up.
It was only the beginning.
It kept growing. Soon, the breeze became a violent gale that threatened to rip them from the ground and send them crashing into the woods. Without warning, a full-blown deluge began, a torrential downpour that turned the soil to mud and hindered their movements.
And then, with a resounding, thunderous roar, a bolt of lightning fell, smiting a small cl_u_s_ter of beowolves. Many more followed.
The Nevermores, despite their best, desperate efforts, found themselves completely at the mercy of the heavens. The gale winds tossed them around like rag dolls and lightning struck them mercilessly, relentlessly. Exhausted, one of the creatures collapsed and crashed into the clearing, crushing a fair number of its unlucky, earthbound kin, while the other was speared trough by one of the bolts and fell off in the distance, somewhere in the woods.
At this point, a panicked, confused frenzy had settled over the creatures of Grimm.
But even when faced with the rage of the wind, the fury of the rain and the wrath of lightning, the doubt creeping into their minds wasn't enough to override their primal instincts, and so they attacked.
Only to learn that at the heart of the maelstrom, another was taking place. A maelstrom of steel and magic, smaller, but far more dangerous.
/
Tristard dodged a beowolf trying to tear off his throat, more out of reflex than actual need, and as the beast made another attempt, he grabbed its own to hold it at bay, letting a Lightning Bolt spell surge through it, and then silencing its pained howls with a swing of his weapon, the jagged edge of Gurahyol burning strong despite the heavy rain, a large cloud of vapour surrounding it. Another tried to strike at his back, but the daedric battleaxe flashed, and the offending monster found itself without a head, after which the Archmage turned his attention towards an incoming wave of creatures:
”FO KRAH DIIN!”
A breath of sheer cold followed the shout, turning every Grimm, every blade of grass, every drop of rain in its path into hoarfrost statues. Unlike the Ice Form shout, the purpose of which was to incapacitate, the freezing Frost Breath would be quite fatal. The Dragonborn contemplated for a moment the ethereal beauty of his handiwork. Unfortunately, this distraction allowed one of the beasts to sneak up on him and bite into his shoulder. Or at least it tried to, because no matter how much pressure it applied, it couldn't pierce through the human's skin, the only thing it managed to break where its own teeth. Still, the mage struggled to break free, and as if instinctively feeling that their foe was trapped, more beowolves joined the first, the sheer weight of the unintentional dog pile threatening to do what their frenzied attacks failed to accomplish.
Only for them to be violently pushed away, as a circle of massive green tentacles erupted from the mage's robes, throwing Grimm in every direction. Their master protected for the time being, the eldritch appendages receded, and Tristard got to his feet, his golden mask hiding his annoyed expression. These bastards just wouldn't take the bloody hint. Perhaps he needed to use a more... persuasive argument.
With the creatures incapacitated for a precious few seconds, he called upon the magicka, willed it into taking a particular form. Lightning once more crackled in his arms, but it was different, more intense, more potent. Like moths to a flame, stray bolts fell on him, but did nothing more than help power the spell. After a few more moments of gathering power, the Archmage unleashed it all. With a mighty, blinding flash, the beam of concentrated lightning that was the Lightning Storm spell shot from his hands, moving in a wide arc in front of him, disintegrating each and every Grimm it touched, leaving only ashes and devastation in its wake. The clearing suddenly became much emptier, and this swift annihilation of most of their numbers broke the remaining Grimm. Self-preservation finally speaking louder, these few survivors ran into the woods, seeking to escape from this opponent, this predator who posed as prey.
With the battle won, Tristard lifted Gurahyol to the skies and let loose a wordless, victorious shout. If any of the creatures had remained, they would have seen an enormous, winged reptilian beast roaring its victory to the heavens.
Thunder was the storm's response, as if it was celebrating as well.
Yeah, he should probably do something about that before he ended up accidentally destroying the world.
”LOK VAH KOOR!”
It obeyed his will, and with one last boom of thunder, the storm vanished as suddenly as it appeared, the muddy soil and broken trees the only proof that it had actually happened.
'Well, I guess that answers that question.' The Dragonborn mused as he gazed around him, watching the corpses decomposing with abnormal speeds, releasing clouds of black smoke, seeing the destruction that Storm Call had wrought. Perhaps it had been a bit of an Overkill on his part, but he had wanted those damn birds out of the sky, and unlike his usual encounters with aerial enemies, Dragonrend wasn't an option. Plus, he was alone in this test, or else he wouldn't even consider using it.
That being said, he had accomplished what had been asked of him, so he should probably start the long and tedious trek back to Beacon...
Wait...
The Archmage facepalmed. Why in Oblivion hadn't he thought of this earlier?
Powered gathered once more in his hands, this time in the form of an ethereal purple glow, and soon after Arvak joined him in the clearing. The first thing the spectral horse did was trot to his master and rub its head on his shoulder, making Tristard chuckle.
”Aye, I'm glad to see you're safe as well, Arvak. I'm sorry I didn't check up on you sooner, but I've been somewhat occupied.” The specter neighed in response, indicating that there was no problem, which made Tristard chuckle again. Such a good horse.
”Well, then...” He mounted the phantom steed, and spared one last glance at the battlefield. ”Let us ride.”
As they did just that, he couldn't help but wonder how would his meeting with his new associates go.
/
The Beacon Cliffs
Weiss Schnee liked to think that she wasn't easily surprised, but these lasts few days seemed to be trying their hardest to prove her wrong.
First was the... explosive first encounter with her partner and team leader, Ruby Rose. She couldn't deny that they had started off on the wrong foot, what with the Dunce's clumsiness and her own... difficult behaviour (she was perfectly aware that others would've said she had been a bitch, but she would never admit it out loud), but the events of their initiation had surprised her, for she realized that the younger girl, for all her childishness and recklessness, had her heart in the right place, and the will and potential to be a great huntress someday. And so she decided that she would at least make an effort to try to make this partnership work.
And now this.
When the Headmaster had explained that one of the teams would be getting an extra member, she had honestly hoped it wouldn't be hers, because she felt it would be hard enough to deal with as it was. When the guy first appeared on the screen, she hadn't thought much of him, other than the fact that his mask reminded her of... unpleasant memories, but she rationalized that the mask alone wasn't enough to suggest he had any connection to the White Fang, and that it would be unfair to dislike him just for that. She decided that if Ruby deserved a chance, then so did this guy.
And then he had started doing the impossible, and doing it again and again.
Using words to become intangible, and breathe fire and frost was by itself weird to say the least, but it had been explained by Ozpin as being his semblance, and while unusual, was something she could understand.
But then there was the lightning and ice he used, and the strange flames of his axe, which had thoroughly confused her. She had payed close attention, inspected every detail, and she could safely say that at no point had this Soverick guy used dust. Where they another aspect of his semblance then, or something else entirely?
And then to add to the mystery, the Grimm were afraid of him. Well, not at first, but the longer he fought them, the more hesitant the monster seemed to be, until an Ursa Alpha of all things refused to face him, and the few beowolves to survive his rampage, against everything humanity thought they knew about the Grimm, fled with their tails between their legs.
Oh, and had she mentioned he had conjured up a freaking storm like a cheap trick, which had reached the academy itself judging by the rain on the windows and the thunder in the distance, and caused it to disperse just as easily? The creepy tentacles that burst from his body, when she and the others had started to fear they would lose their new teammate before they had a chance to meet him? The massive beam of lightning that annihilated nearly the entire horde? And how when all was said and done, he had made a skeleton horse appear out of thin air?
In other words, she didn't know what to think. On one hand, it was good to know that they had this kind of firepower on their side. On the other, how the heck did the guy manage to do that? Just who was he?
As they neared the initiation cliff, following Headmaster Ozpin, who had prompted them to come and meet their new colleague, Weiss glanced back at the others.
Ruby looked positively giddy, in fact, the younger girl was damn near skipping in excitement. Weiss suspected that had something to do with that o_b_s_c_e_n_ely sharp-looking flaming axe. Had it been anyone else, she would have thought such an obsession with weapons to be disturbing. To her credit, the red-hooded girl actually made it an endearing trait.
Not for the first time she wondered how the heck could Ruby be related to their other teammate. Yang had been the first to break the utter, utter, silence in the amphitheatre, when everyone was still trying to process what they just saw.
”Well... I guess you could say that he... took them by storm.”
And queue a perfectly synchronized groan of annoyance from everybody within earshot.
Now, the buxom blonde (She was NOT jealous, not at all) was walking alongside her sister, and while she didn't act any different from normal, there was a glint in her eyes that hadn't been there before. Weiss wasn't sure what to make of it.
And then there was Blake. The last member of their team was quietly following the siblings, a contemplative expression on her face. If Weiss had to guess, she'd say the ebon-haired girl was trying to understand what they had witnessed, without much success.
Soon they reached the cliff... where someone else was already waiting for their new teammate's arrival...
/
Professor Goodwitch had been caught by surprise by the sudden storm, and while she was safe from the lightning at this distance, her waterlogged clothes and soaked hair showed that she hadn't escaped unscathed. The woman was now twisting her cloak in effort to rid it of excess water, and doing her best to suppress the shivering from the cold. The girls and the Headmaster hid their surprise (and in some cases amus_e_m_e_nt) at the woman's state, mostly because of the way she was murderously glaring in the general direction where the storm had come from.
”Glynda...” Ozpin ventured cautiously, he did not wish to incur the woman's wrath. ”Why are you...?”
”I created a barrier to shelter myself from the rain.” The woman interrupted in a calm, collected, slightly shivering tone, but the Headmaster knew her well enough to recognize the cold fury underneath. ”But that small period of time was enough to leave me in this state.” Her glare never left the forest. Ozpin couldn't help but grow a bit concerned for Tristard's safety.
For a few minutes, the group stood there in silence, until Ruby finally dared to ask.
”So... how long do you think it will take him...?”
An axe lodged itself in the Cliff's edge, causing her to ”Eeep!” in fright. A gloved hand followed, and soon the rest of the Archmage, dusting off his robes, and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like a promise that he'd one day find a way to murder the foul cliff.
”That was quite an... impressive performance, Mr. Soverick.” The Headmaster stated praisingly.
”No thanks to you.” Tristard replied bluntly. ”It would have been nice to know that I was meant to be catapulted off the sodded cliff before it happened.”
”Perhaps.” The Headmaster stated. ”But that would defeat the purpose of a test, wouldn't it?”
Grudgingly the Dragonborn conceded to that particular point, and then he noticed that someone was glaring at him. One look at the source was more than enough to understand what had happened. Realizing the danger he was in, the mage immediately tried to diplomatically defuse the situation.
”Forgive me, Lady Goodwitch.” He said sincerely, bowing his head but at the same time doing his damn best to keep looking her in the eyes, because all that water was having some very... interesting effects on her white shirt, and he had a feeling that she'd know if he stared, mask or no mask. ”I wasn't aware that you would remain here for the duration of the initiation, otherwise I wouldn't have resorted to such methods to deal with the Grimm. Here.” He reached into his robes, pulling out a small red phial and held it out for her to grab. ”Take this, with my apologies.”
Surprised by the honest, heartfelt apology, most of Glynda's anger turned to curiosity, as she took the object and looked at it questioningly.
”And what is this?”
”A potion. That one in particular is used to cure disease. It should be able to handle any cold or fever you might suffer.”
Eyebrow raised, Glynda once again looked at the contents of the phial. This would require some analysis. But for now, she did the only thing she could think of.
”Apologies accepted, just make sure it doesn't happen again.”
Now Ozpin was thoroughly impressed. Fully capable of holding his own against overwhelming odds, willing to go for a diplomatic approach in more delicate situations, and he just managed to calm Glynda down to boot!
Truly Tristard would make a fine addiction to Beacon Academy, and to Team RWBY in particular.
The Dragonborn for his part, just chuckled. ”Duly noted, Lady Goodwitch.”
Then he finally noticed the other people present, staring at him with expressions ranging from surprised to curious.
”My new teammates, I assume?” He had seen them before, but now he took the opportunity to examine them in greater detail. Strange garments, but then again, his own probably looked strange to them as well. And what was it with this world and attractive women? Any one of them put anything he had seen back home to shame, with the possible exception of Serana. Not that he saw the vampire in that light. Despite her being Gods know how many millennia older than him, during the whole ”Vampire Doomsday Prophecy” situation they had somehow developed a strong ”Older Brother/Younger Sister” relationship, with all the teasing and overprotectiveness that entailed. Anyone who so much as thought to harm or woo her would have to answer to him, and proceed to get a face full of axe. And exploding fireballs. And then he'd sic Odahviing and Durnehviir on them.
But he digressed. Now it was time to finally meet the Maidens of Red, White, Black and Yellow.
”Oh, where are my manners?” He removed his mask, which disappeared into his robes, and did a polite bow, hoping for a good first impression. ”Tristard Soverick, at your service.”
The girls hadn't expected that. Contrary to what each of them envisioned, behind that mask was a guy not much older than they were. With that wavy brown hair, short-trimmed beard, and tattoo over his eye, he was quite good-looking, handsome even, in a rugged sort of way. Yang threw Weiss a smug look that said, ”told you so”. They were also somewhat confused by the overly polite way he addressed them, and it was Weiss, more used to such behaviours, that reacted first, approaching him as he rose and holding out her hand.
”Weiss Schnee, pleased to meet you.”
The white one, Tristard mused as he shook it, and indeed white seemed to define her, from hair to clothing. The scar over her left eye did not detract from her beauty at all, and much like his own mark, he suspected there was quite a story behind it. From what he'd seen in the ”footage” and what Ozpin had explained to him, she was the closest thing the team had to a mage, using her semblance of glyphs to boost herself and her allies, and the substance, ”Dust”, to produce many effects similar to his spells, which made her a prime candidate for attaining information on the subject. Her icy blue eyes showed some reservations, likely she wasn't quite sure what to make of him, but also a measure of respect, he guessed he could work with that.
”The p_l_e_a_s_u_r_e is mine, Lady Schnee.” He answered, and the sincerity behind it seemed to catch the girl slightly off guard, but by then another of the girls approached.
”Hi there!” The smaller girl said excitedly, a bright smile on her face. ”Name's Ruby Rose. Nice to meet you.”
The red one, strangely the only one whose hair did not totally match the color. With a red hood, over-sized cape and cheerful silver eyes, the girl was a picture of childish optimism and innocence, it reminded him so much of... Well, anyway, she was the leader, and yet the youngest out of all of them. He had to admit, he had been somewhat uncertain about those particular pieces of information, but he witnessed the feats she could accomplish, some bordering on the insane, which he strongly suspected might be due to structural and biological differences between the humans of Remnant and Nirn, it was the best explanation he could come with for how in Sheor's name was a small, thin girl like her able to so easily wield a scythe bigger than she was, when most orcs he'd met would hesitate to even lift the damn thing. That aside, the girl was quick, both on her feet, what with her semblance being speed, and in her mind, and now that he was standing before her, he could see what Ozpin had been thinking. She definitely had a potential for greatness. Aye, he would follow this one, and help along the way.
”Likewise, Lady Rose.” He replied with a grin as they shook hands, while another new face approached.
”Well, good to see you getting along so well with someone right off the bat, Rubs.” She said in a teasing yet caring tone, before shifting her attention to him, while the red-hooded girl stuttered embarrassedly. ”Yo, I'm Yang Xiao Long, Ruby's older sister, nice meeting you.”
Tristard blinked, looked at one girl, then the other, then spoke his mind.
”You two look nothing alike.”
The blonde just chuckled at that. ”Yeah, we get that a lot.”
The yellow one. With long, wild hair of a shade that put gold to shame, and bright lilac eyes, this one showed a confident, energetic and very carefree demeanour. She was also quite... well endowed, which wasn't helped by her... revealing outfit. As they shook hands, he fought down the urge to wince. The girl had one hell of a grip, but that was to be expected, she was a brawler after all, with a level of strength unheard of in Skyrim, which coupled with a deceiving amount of agility, made her a brutal, devastating fighter. They would have loved her back in Jorrvaskr.
”I believe we will get along well...” Lady Xiao? Lady Long? Lady Xiao Long? Ah, sod it.”... Milady.”
And then there was one.
She approached quietly, and for some reason he was reminded of a cat, sizing him up, trying to decide if he was friend or threat.
”I'm Blake. Blake Belladonna.”
The black one. Hair dark as midnight and feline, amber eyes, and with what was perhaps the strangest outfit he'd seen so far, she seemed to be the quiet one of the group, and more than any of the others she had the bearing of an experienced fighter, and with a fighting style based on stealth and subterfuge, she would have been quite successful in the Dark Brotherhood, if he hadn't finished those bastards off himself, there were only so many assassination attempts he could put up with, and their ”attempt” to recruit him for ”stealing the clientele ” had been the last straw, he had done the world a favour getting rid of that old hag, and another getting rid of them.
But once again he digressed.
The girl seemed quiet and collected, yes, and a bit withdrawn, perhaps, but there was something underneath, to him those eyes seemed... haunted, for a lack of a better term. But he would not ask, nor would he judge, it was not his place. Gods knew he had his own closet full of skeletons.
Also, that strange ornament on her head really did remind him of a Khajiit...
By the Gods, did those things just twitch?
Nah, he must've been seeing things.
”Delighted to make you acquaintance, Lady Belladonna.” She nodded, they shook hands, and then she retreated once more, truly a quiet girl.
”Now that you have all been introduced.” Ozpin rejoined the conversation. ”I believe it is time to make this official.”
The girls stepped back, as one Headmaster stood before another, the latter of the two removing the chess piece from within his robes and handing it to the former, who nodded approvingly.
”Tristard Soverick, you have braved the Emerald Forest alone, showing great skill and power, and collected the White Knight piece. Thus, you will be joining Team RWBY, under the leadership of Ruby Rose. Welcome to Beacon Academy.”
”T'is a position I will fulfil to the best of my ability.” The Archmage replied, then turned to the younger girl, and put his fist to his c_h_e_s_t in a show of respect. ”My axe is yours, Lady Rose.”
Fl_u_s_tered by such respectful behaviour from a guy she had just met, the blushing Ruby could only stutter.
”W-well... hhhm... yeah, welcome t-to the team.”
Yang nodded at that, Weiss and Blake just smiled.
”Now, I believe it is time for the girls to pack their bags.” Ozpin stated.
”I'm sorry, what?” A bewildered Weiss asked.
It was Glynda who replied. ”Girls, the room you are occupying right now is too small to house a fifth person. Fortunately, situations like these, while uncommon, are not unheard of, and we have a couple of rooms on campus for just this purpose. You will be moving to one of them.”
Tristard didn't miss Ruby dejectedly mumbling. ”But we just set up the bunk beds...”
He'd have to ask about that latter.
”I trust there will be no issue with this, Mr. Soverick?” The teacher asked him with a pointed look.
He fought down the urge to snort. During his tenure with the Companions, he had shared quarters with Aela the Huntress, and the woman fought, ate and snored like a beast. This couldn't be much worse.
”I have no issue with it if they don't, Lady Goodwitch. Besides, I travel light, so I will not be taking up much space.”
”Well, then.” Ozpin said. ”I believe we should return, you look like you could use a rest.”
No one noticed that, during these conversations, Tristard had been moving, subtly positioning himself, waiting for just the right moment.
”Aye, a warm meal, a bath, and a good night's sleep to sound lovely right now. Oh, and Ozpin...?”
”Yes?”
”FUS!”
The Headmaster of Beacon Academy was promptly blown off the cliff.
The girls gawked.
Glynda once more glared at him.
”Was that really necessary?”
Tristard just shrugged.
”A bit petty on my part perhaps, but nobody tricks me into being catapulted off a cliff and gets away with it.”
And done.