(Fairy Tail/ Warhammer Fantasy) The Fairy Queen of Tilea
- Thread starter AllenWalker
- Start date
- Pronouns
- He
and even among those, erza is the chief weirdo
Considering Erza spent 400+ years in Irene's (Dragon for most of those years) womb, is Erza part Dragon? It's been wildly agreed on that her large reserves and strength came from Irene, but no one has an idea on how much.
I personally believe that Erza has some dragon in her.
I personally believe that Erza has some dragon in her.
- Location
- Canada
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Maybe. Probably so long as she doesn't try to do stuff with external magic while under its lights, at least. But it's still a little early to make that call, IMO. One exposure to the Bad Moon for a few minutes isn't really enough to do much to anything other than maybe an insect or something like a mouse.
- Pronouns
- He
Yeah, even without her magic, Erza could armwrestle with a bone grinder and she'd break his arm
Maybe
Yes.
- Location
- Canada
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Yknow...I wonder what her reaction would be if she ever ran into a Dwarven Dragon-Slayer (I.E. the second-worst type of Slayer at their jobs). Like what the comparison between these dwarves and the mages she knew would be.
- Pronouns
- He
pretty respectfull on Erza´s part. The dawi would Like all the skaven splattering she is going to be doing. Plus Erza would totally geek out over dawi weapons.
CHapter 4
- Pronouns
- He
Chapter 4
Benizakura went through the meter thick, hard trunk as if it was barely more than a sheet of paper, flashing in a tornado of slashes that shredded the massive tree down to hundreds of pieces of firewood, each about as long and broad as her forearm. More than good enough to last a week. To be honest, it was more than Raffealo was going to need in Erza's opinion, but after he had picked her up, clothed her and healed most of her injuries. It was the least she could do to pay him back.
It also served a secondary purpose.
The last time Erza had found herself in another world, the lack of ethernano particles had cost her much of her speed and strength, but she seemed to have kept that much at least. Her arms and legs ached lightly as she swung them, probably from the minor injuries and cracks that hadn't fully healed. She was also feeling a slight sickness, but nothing too severe. Nevermind, she'd recover soon enough.
"Is that enough?" She turned around to Raffaelo, who was still staring at her.
Was he still worried about this bad moonlight? Well maybe he had a point there, she was after all not an inhabitant of this land. It wouldn't do if she grew a third arm or had her mind warped, like the poor inhabitants from galuna island she had aided so long ago.
A happy whistle on her hands, she grabbed thirty pieces or so of freshly cut wood and began to carry the pile back into the rather meager house. Raffaello only really began to talk when she was already past him, well on her way of shoving the wood into the fireplace.
"H-how did you do that?" The priest's formerly sure voice was shaken, almost stuttering quality as he just followed her every motion, almost as if he was afraid. But that was a silly thought, there was no reason Erza could think of why he should be.
"How did I do what?" Was he asking her how she cut the wood? Surely he knew how that process went.
"You-" he gestured at the door, doing a double take and slamming it shut. Doing that took the green light from his home, much to her quiet relief. "You just ripped a tree out of the ground, like an ogre or a giant. Then you, y-you just chopped up the whole thing in seconds." He openly gawked.
"The less time spent in the moonlight the better." Erza tossed more wood onto the fire, growing the blaze. "You said so, didn't you? Why actually? What can this green light do?" She glanced at the outside suspiciously. There were walls between them, but would that really stop some malicious magic? Raffaelo gulped, his shock giving way to fear.
"Morrslieb is… is an evil moon. It appears when it wills, follows its own path, and when it does, evil grows in power. Those who linger in its light have their minds, bodies, and souls warped. I personally never witnessed it, but I heard stories of people who did. People who I trust. Also, those are not the only dangers." He sighed, teeth gritted. "They are more active during nights and days like this." He closed his eyes, his temper clearly flying up. "The damned skaven."
He spat the word out like it was a curse. For all Erza knew, it was.
"The demented ratmen love Morrslieb. Love to bathe in it's light. At times like this they are out, hitting villages and isolated settlements to kidnap and devour the inhabitants. Or worse." He shuddered, speaking clearly of experience.
She wanted to ask what a skaven was, but the way he pulled himself together signaled he was done with the matter.
He interrupted her before she could ask anyway. "We should head to Carno as early as possible tomorrow, hopefully morrslieb will not infest the heavens still by then. For tonight we should separately stand guard and sleep. Are you capable of that?"
"I will." Erza wasn't entirely feeling up for a night watch, but if he thought there was danger, then she would.
"Good. Do you have skaven in your world? Ratmen are usually about this tall." He put his hand at his chest while looking at her. When she shook her head he just sighed again. "You come from a lucky land indeed, Erza, if it lacks the skaven. They are a scourge like no other."
"They seem like a pressing threat. Why haven't the guilds of these lands done against them? They hardly sound like something that could or should be ignored." They certainly sounded terribly threatening.
He let out a bitter laugh. "Were it so easy! The skaven are numberless vermin, it matters not how many are killed, more will take their place. It would take all of Tilea stopping their pointless squabbles over money and territory, and instead to take arms against the true threat instead of each other."
A sadness overcame his face as he mentioned that.
"However no one has been able to reunite my people since our Goddess herself descended from the heavens." He stared at the eagle shrine that made up the centre of his house. "And I can only pray that I´ll live to see the day that myrmidia sends a champion to rid us of the vermin."
"I see. Perhaps I'll lend aid when I can." Erza decided, tossing another log on the fire.
"With your strength that would certainly help. If you ever need coin, I'm sure some fighting companies would love to have you on their side." Raffaelo suggested.
"Perhaps." Erza rolled her shoulders. "I will take the first watch. You need your rest if you're taking me to Corno tomorrow."
"I should-"
"I have slept enough." Erza cut him off. He looked to protest, but her solid gaze was ready to throw it right back at him.
"Very well. I will relieve you in a few hours." He groaned, standing up to leave for the bedroom.
Erza sat back in her chair, Benizakura resting on her hips, her hands ready to draw them and pulverize any enemy who would try to sneak into their room. Every thirty seconds or so she scanned the windows, watching for anything unusual. Anything that seemed like it was spying where it didn't belong. There was a long ahead of her, becoming complacent could be dangerous.
In the meantime she snagged a rag to start cleaning Benizakura. There were a lot of splinters in the hilt, and she needed to check if her helpful act had chipped the edge at all. While not her only weapon, she most assuredly didn't want to damage it unnecessarily.
Benizakura had survived clashes that could have torn islands apart but it didn´t hurt to be careful. A good swordswoman's worth could be seen at the state of her weaponry and Erza would certainly not act carelessly with one of her most precious swords.
Even now flashes of red energy danced around the blade, causing it to vibrate slightly. Something in this world was affecting the demon blade, even when it had been sheathed. Now she could see it more clearly; it hummed with power that wasn't hers, its ability to absorb magic in order to enhance itself currently at work. But if it wasn't taking her magic, then where was this power coming from?
The magic of this world? Something else?
In the middle of her musing she heard a stick crack. Erza paused mid-wipe, swiveling towards the window. Without any sudden moves she set the rag down, slowly rising from the chair. She clenched the sword and hugged the wall, making sure she wasn't visible to the outside. Stopping an arms length away from the window, she listened; wildlife perhaps? She hoped so.
Another crack had her tense, it sounded to be around the same distance away. Where the branches were left after she cut them, adding credence to her assumption. That was a lot of leaves left for the taking. Another stick went crunch, still in the same place, roughly. Was there one or-
Crack.
Erza tensed; that one was closer. She gripped the sword tight, waiting, then receiving another warning. A low, throaty grunt, like a pig but not quite. For one it sounded larger, and higher up than an animal should be. By her guess it was probably less than a hundred meters away and it was headed their way.
Deciding on a course of action, Erza threw open the door and strode out under the uncomfortable green light. It was dark outside, but not so dark that she couldn´t see.
There were two intruders on the Grimaldi property, the sight of them froze her for a moment, much to her idle embarrassment; they were taller than her, coated in thick mangy fur that was stuffed with all kinds of things. Their heads however were shaped like goats, topped by large curved horns. Neither wore anything, so their beefy forms were only hidden by the darkness. The same couldn't be said for the smell; it was like they went bathing in a sewer.
Both halted as well, blinking in surprise like caught deer. Then the first twisted its bestial features into a grimace and let out something that sounded like a mix between a bleat and a gurgling scream, raising what looked like a very rusty rudimental dagger. The other didn't even have that and instead was just armed with a club.
Both looked a bit like Aries, if the latter hadn't showered in a year. Best she was going to knock them out, so that she could interrogate them later.
Having come to a reasonable conclusion she surged forwards between the slow-as-snails men and jabbed her fists into their necks, a move she had spent much time learning to perfect. Natsu had been a willing and enthusiastic assistant, always eager to let her test her techniques on him.
Only, Natsu's head didn't explode in a bubble of gore and bone shards, almost as foul smelling as their hides. The two goatmen were blown back, knocked off their hooves so pathetically easily; everything from their sternums up was simply gone, sent flying into the night somewhere. Warm liquid splashed onto her arms, some landing on her collarbone. All while the two men dropped like sacks of potatoes, thumping on the ground and stopping.
Erza was like a statue, quivering arms outstretched as she stared wide eyed at their bodies. When they lowered at last she struggled to tear her eyes off them, slowing her breathing to shallow gulps. She… she didn't hit them that hard. How?
The door creaked open, making her whirl around. Haloed in the light was Raffaelo, clad in a nightgown and stifling a yawn.
"Ah, Miss Scarlet? What are you doing out there? I heard a commotion-" he stepped out his door, but halted a few paces away. Naturally, his eyes were glued to the bodies.
Erza cleared her throat, trying in vain to stop her shaking. "I, I-I was trying to knock them out. Normally that… that doesn't happen."
"Beastmen." He shook his head, letting out a relieved breath. "You don´t need feel bad about them."
It was Erza's turn to look confused, prompting a sigh.
"They are some of the monsters Morrslieb affects, I shouldn't be surprised that they are out tonight. If you hadn't been on watch, they would have eaten us." He explained.
"But…" Erza raised a brow in bafflement.
"You did well, truly." Raffaelo smiled.
"I… I need to wash this off." She stomped back indoors, heading to a washpot. The blood stank, she wanted it off her.
"However." Raffaelo halted Erza in her tracks. "Can you help me move the bodies? They'll lure in more."
"More?" Erza swung around.
"Yeah. More." He nodded grimly. "I'd assume these beastmen are mere scouts. They are rare here, but not unheard of."
"Scouts for what?" Erza faced him.
His eyes narrowed at the corpses. "A warherd."
AN;
And we have a new chapter. Hope you have fun with it. Comments and constructive critique is always appreciated
Benizakura went through the meter thick, hard trunk as if it was barely more than a sheet of paper, flashing in a tornado of slashes that shredded the massive tree down to hundreds of pieces of firewood, each about as long and broad as her forearm. More than good enough to last a week. To be honest, it was more than Raffealo was going to need in Erza's opinion, but after he had picked her up, clothed her and healed most of her injuries. It was the least she could do to pay him back.
It also served a secondary purpose.
The last time Erza had found herself in another world, the lack of ethernano particles had cost her much of her speed and strength, but she seemed to have kept that much at least. Her arms and legs ached lightly as she swung them, probably from the minor injuries and cracks that hadn't fully healed. She was also feeling a slight sickness, but nothing too severe. Nevermind, she'd recover soon enough.
"Is that enough?" She turned around to Raffaelo, who was still staring at her.
Was he still worried about this bad moonlight? Well maybe he had a point there, she was after all not an inhabitant of this land. It wouldn't do if she grew a third arm or had her mind warped, like the poor inhabitants from galuna island she had aided so long ago.
A happy whistle on her hands, she grabbed thirty pieces or so of freshly cut wood and began to carry the pile back into the rather meager house. Raffaello only really began to talk when she was already past him, well on her way of shoving the wood into the fireplace.
"H-how did you do that?" The priest's formerly sure voice was shaken, almost stuttering quality as he just followed her every motion, almost as if he was afraid. But that was a silly thought, there was no reason Erza could think of why he should be.
"How did I do what?" Was he asking her how she cut the wood? Surely he knew how that process went.
"You-" he gestured at the door, doing a double take and slamming it shut. Doing that took the green light from his home, much to her quiet relief. "You just ripped a tree out of the ground, like an ogre or a giant. Then you, y-you just chopped up the whole thing in seconds." He openly gawked.
"The less time spent in the moonlight the better." Erza tossed more wood onto the fire, growing the blaze. "You said so, didn't you? Why actually? What can this green light do?" She glanced at the outside suspiciously. There were walls between them, but would that really stop some malicious magic? Raffaelo gulped, his shock giving way to fear.
"Morrslieb is… is an evil moon. It appears when it wills, follows its own path, and when it does, evil grows in power. Those who linger in its light have their minds, bodies, and souls warped. I personally never witnessed it, but I heard stories of people who did. People who I trust. Also, those are not the only dangers." He sighed, teeth gritted. "They are more active during nights and days like this." He closed his eyes, his temper clearly flying up. "The damned skaven."
He spat the word out like it was a curse. For all Erza knew, it was.
"The demented ratmen love Morrslieb. Love to bathe in it's light. At times like this they are out, hitting villages and isolated settlements to kidnap and devour the inhabitants. Or worse." He shuddered, speaking clearly of experience.
She wanted to ask what a skaven was, but the way he pulled himself together signaled he was done with the matter.
He interrupted her before she could ask anyway. "We should head to Carno as early as possible tomorrow, hopefully morrslieb will not infest the heavens still by then. For tonight we should separately stand guard and sleep. Are you capable of that?"
"I will." Erza wasn't entirely feeling up for a night watch, but if he thought there was danger, then she would.
"Good. Do you have skaven in your world? Ratmen are usually about this tall." He put his hand at his chest while looking at her. When she shook her head he just sighed again. "You come from a lucky land indeed, Erza, if it lacks the skaven. They are a scourge like no other."
"They seem like a pressing threat. Why haven't the guilds of these lands done against them? They hardly sound like something that could or should be ignored." They certainly sounded terribly threatening.
He let out a bitter laugh. "Were it so easy! The skaven are numberless vermin, it matters not how many are killed, more will take their place. It would take all of Tilea stopping their pointless squabbles over money and territory, and instead to take arms against the true threat instead of each other."
A sadness overcame his face as he mentioned that.
"However no one has been able to reunite my people since our Goddess herself descended from the heavens." He stared at the eagle shrine that made up the centre of his house. "And I can only pray that I´ll live to see the day that myrmidia sends a champion to rid us of the vermin."
"I see. Perhaps I'll lend aid when I can." Erza decided, tossing another log on the fire.
"With your strength that would certainly help. If you ever need coin, I'm sure some fighting companies would love to have you on their side." Raffaelo suggested.
"Perhaps." Erza rolled her shoulders. "I will take the first watch. You need your rest if you're taking me to Corno tomorrow."
"I should-"
"I have slept enough." Erza cut him off. He looked to protest, but her solid gaze was ready to throw it right back at him.
"Very well. I will relieve you in a few hours." He groaned, standing up to leave for the bedroom.
Erza sat back in her chair, Benizakura resting on her hips, her hands ready to draw them and pulverize any enemy who would try to sneak into their room. Every thirty seconds or so she scanned the windows, watching for anything unusual. Anything that seemed like it was spying where it didn't belong. There was a long ahead of her, becoming complacent could be dangerous.
In the meantime she snagged a rag to start cleaning Benizakura. There were a lot of splinters in the hilt, and she needed to check if her helpful act had chipped the edge at all. While not her only weapon, she most assuredly didn't want to damage it unnecessarily.
Benizakura had survived clashes that could have torn islands apart but it didn´t hurt to be careful. A good swordswoman's worth could be seen at the state of her weaponry and Erza would certainly not act carelessly with one of her most precious swords.
Even now flashes of red energy danced around the blade, causing it to vibrate slightly. Something in this world was affecting the demon blade, even when it had been sheathed. Now she could see it more clearly; it hummed with power that wasn't hers, its ability to absorb magic in order to enhance itself currently at work. But if it wasn't taking her magic, then where was this power coming from?
The magic of this world? Something else?
In the middle of her musing she heard a stick crack. Erza paused mid-wipe, swiveling towards the window. Without any sudden moves she set the rag down, slowly rising from the chair. She clenched the sword and hugged the wall, making sure she wasn't visible to the outside. Stopping an arms length away from the window, she listened; wildlife perhaps? She hoped so.
Another crack had her tense, it sounded to be around the same distance away. Where the branches were left after she cut them, adding credence to her assumption. That was a lot of leaves left for the taking. Another stick went crunch, still in the same place, roughly. Was there one or-
Crack.
Erza tensed; that one was closer. She gripped the sword tight, waiting, then receiving another warning. A low, throaty grunt, like a pig but not quite. For one it sounded larger, and higher up than an animal should be. By her guess it was probably less than a hundred meters away and it was headed their way.
Deciding on a course of action, Erza threw open the door and strode out under the uncomfortable green light. It was dark outside, but not so dark that she couldn´t see.
There were two intruders on the Grimaldi property, the sight of them froze her for a moment, much to her idle embarrassment; they were taller than her, coated in thick mangy fur that was stuffed with all kinds of things. Their heads however were shaped like goats, topped by large curved horns. Neither wore anything, so their beefy forms were only hidden by the darkness. The same couldn't be said for the smell; it was like they went bathing in a sewer.
Both halted as well, blinking in surprise like caught deer. Then the first twisted its bestial features into a grimace and let out something that sounded like a mix between a bleat and a gurgling scream, raising what looked like a very rusty rudimental dagger. The other didn't even have that and instead was just armed with a club.
Both looked a bit like Aries, if the latter hadn't showered in a year. Best she was going to knock them out, so that she could interrogate them later.
Having come to a reasonable conclusion she surged forwards between the slow-as-snails men and jabbed her fists into their necks, a move she had spent much time learning to perfect. Natsu had been a willing and enthusiastic assistant, always eager to let her test her techniques on him.
Only, Natsu's head didn't explode in a bubble of gore and bone shards, almost as foul smelling as their hides. The two goatmen were blown back, knocked off their hooves so pathetically easily; everything from their sternums up was simply gone, sent flying into the night somewhere. Warm liquid splashed onto her arms, some landing on her collarbone. All while the two men dropped like sacks of potatoes, thumping on the ground and stopping.
Erza was like a statue, quivering arms outstretched as she stared wide eyed at their bodies. When they lowered at last she struggled to tear her eyes off them, slowing her breathing to shallow gulps. She… she didn't hit them that hard. How?
The door creaked open, making her whirl around. Haloed in the light was Raffaelo, clad in a nightgown and stifling a yawn.
"Ah, Miss Scarlet? What are you doing out there? I heard a commotion-" he stepped out his door, but halted a few paces away. Naturally, his eyes were glued to the bodies.
Erza cleared her throat, trying in vain to stop her shaking. "I, I-I was trying to knock them out. Normally that… that doesn't happen."
"Beastmen." He shook his head, letting out a relieved breath. "You don´t need feel bad about them."
It was Erza's turn to look confused, prompting a sigh.
"They are some of the monsters Morrslieb affects, I shouldn't be surprised that they are out tonight. If you hadn't been on watch, they would have eaten us." He explained.
"But…" Erza raised a brow in bafflement.
"You did well, truly." Raffaelo smiled.
"I… I need to wash this off." She stomped back indoors, heading to a washpot. The blood stank, she wanted it off her.
"However." Raffaelo halted Erza in her tracks. "Can you help me move the bodies? They'll lure in more."
"More?" Erza swung around.
"Yeah. More." He nodded grimly. "I'd assume these beastmen are mere scouts. They are rare here, but not unheard of."
"Scouts for what?" Erza faced him.
His eyes narrowed at the corpses. "A warherd."
AN;
And we have a new chapter. Hope you have fun with it. Comments and constructive critique is always appreciated
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
Sorry Erza, you're going to need to recalibrate your strength for a non-shounen world.
- Pronouns
- He
she gotta reserve that stuff for the skaven
- Location
- Utrecht
Once she figures out what beastmen do, i think she'll be fine with turning them into red mist.
- Pronouns
- Masculine
As said on the SB thread, Beastmen and Vulcans from Fairy Tail's world are very much alike. And probably going to get exactly the same treatment.
I'm kinda hoping Khazrak will be leading the Warherd and get shanked right along with the rest of them.
Because Toddy would forever be Erza's friend if it happens. Heh.
I'm kinda hoping Khazrak will be leading the Warherd and get shanked right along with the rest of them.
Because Toddy would forever be Erza's friend if it happens. Heh.
Chapter 5
- Pronouns
- He
Chaper 5
"A warherd."
Erza didn't like the sound of that, so much that she could forget the blood dripping from her hands. "Tell me what a warherd is."
Raffaelo spared a glance at the bodies, gesturing for her. He showed no signs of wishing to speak yet. Stifling a groan, Erza strode over to drag one headless beastman's arm, taking it away from his home. He led her to a shallow depression a short distance from the house, apparently for excess rainwater. Now she rolled it in there, as he gathered up sticks.
"A warherd is what it sounds like, a great number of beastmen rousing themselves to war. They are rare in these parts but it happens every now and again." He sent the green moon a scowl; Erza glanced, and felt some surprise to see how much of the sky it had crossed already, moving in a completely different direction than what she saw earlier. "I'm sure the northmen could regale you of tales fighting those monsters, when they're not screaming about their wolf god. But put simply, imagine several hundred of these things, as foul tempered as they smell."
"That's a troubling thought." Erza waved a hand in front of her nose, now growing aware of the stench; it wasn't its innards, but the fur itself outright stank. And she still had to grab the other.
"When beastmen go to war, its always a messy affair. They destroy anything manmade, steal everything they can, and kill everyone. Violently, often using the dead as rations." Raffaelo continued, gathering an armload of sticks.
"Where do they come from? They don't seem natural." Erza dragged the second body over, waiting until he tossed in his sticks before tossing the heavy creature in.
"They aren't. Beastmen are born in evil, and they spread it whenever and however they can. Wherever they attack, the forces of darkness are never far behind. The Sigmarites got one thing right: the best way to deal with these monsters is through fire." Raffaelo went to gather more kindling. She thought there was enough.
A bright flash had him around, his smoldering distast turning into a confused look at the sword in Erza's hand. She lifted the red and bronze sword, a bright flame igniting on the blade; the darkness was banished, even the sickly moonlight was pushed back under its blazing light. Smiling at her sword coming to her without issue, Erza swept it towards the beastmen.
For a moment the world was consumed by a flash of light and fire as the heat incinerated the drier wood right away, the stinky fur catching fire almost immediately. In moments muscles and skin were immolated, flesh boiling and the very bones of the beastmen cadavers melting away.
It only took a couple moments, maybe one or two seconds, but when she relented there was nothing left of the bodies but desolated land with what looked like molten earth where the fire had been most intense. Of the monsters she accidentally killed, there was only a couple charred bones remaining.
"Do beastmen take captives?"
Raffaelo had to close his eyes, blinking multiple times for his sight to properly return before he could respond, getting over the shock. "Excuse me?"
"You said before that my world was fortunate not to have things like skaven. There may be things worse than them however." Erza dismissed her sword, taking a moment to bask in the fire's warmth. "Truthfully, when I first saw these beastmen I thought they were monsters native to my home, called Vulcans. They take captives, female ones. You can assume why." She turned to face him. "Do beastmen do the same?"
"I… have heard stories of that. As rumors. Normally, the only reason a beastman would capture a prisoner is for a later snack. But every so often, there's a tall tale of a witch or an abducted woman being used for.. other purposes." He cleared his throat. "I should not speak of these matters. It is late, we have to go to Corno in the morning."
"Of course, I was simply curious." Erza nodded, turning back to the house. But not before sparing a look at the woods, wondering what was peering back at her.
Line break
Deep within a forest of Tilea, monsters dwelled.
The flesh let out one final cry as it was pushed onto the sacred stone, the green rock casting it's light on it already before it made contact.
Muscles bulged as it tried to break free from the Gors' hold, but the efforts amounted to nothing. Like all the prey that lived in the cities and lands outside of the forests it was weak, unable to contest the true rulers of the world. The true chosen of the Gods.
With a single kick of his hooves Ghurleth shattered its chin, stopping the flesh's pathetic struggle. Moving fast Ghurleth buried his ritual blade into it's chest, before tearing the still beating heart out with nothing but Ghurleth's bare hands.
Ghurleth let out a triumphant howl and swallowed it whole, the entire herd joining in, their cries drowning out the whimpers of those prey that still were off service to the tribe.
Even now Ghurleth felt the blood sacrifice channeling might into Ghurleth guts, growing Ghurleth even more, both physically and with the shamanic gifts that Ghurleth had been blessed with. Ghurleth's muscles bloated up even more and Ghurleth let out another scream, one of agony, not ecstasy this time.
Muscles and flesh expanded, bone grew and even Ghurleth's blessed horns massed on and on, shredding arteries, nerves and veins in the process. Internal injuries were afflicted that would have felled even a beastlord. For a long second, Ghurleth seemed to be on the verge of becoming a dreaded and pitiful Spawn.
But Ghurleth wasn't just some ordinary cloven one, not even one of the beastlord, Ghurleth was Ghurleth! Ghurleth was strong! Ghurleth had been chosen by the gods personally to bring down the vile and weak civilisations of the uncloven ones, be they furred or smoothskin.
Ghurleth maw gaped way open, vomiting a mass of blood as well as pieces of bone and teeth that had begun to fill Ghurleth's mouth. Ghurleth spewed a litany of chants, feeling how the great and awesome power of Ghurleth's patrons washed over Ghurleth's body, fixing the hideous harm that had been done and leaving only blessed growth.
A powerful roar swarmed over the encampment, cowing even the brainless minotaurs. Ghurleth's roar was not just a declaration of strength, but a promise made under the depraved light of the Chaos Moon: Ghurleth was strong, Ghurleth would vanquish all foes of the dark gods and clovenkind!
With a jab Ghurleth's stave stabbed into the dark forest, and the beastmen charged forth into the murky woods. Men feared it, as they should; the world didn't belong to them, and now it was time to remind the prey of their place. Ghurleth let out a baleful laugh at the center of the herd, going to enact the will of the gods.
A week ago, when Ghurleth had first received these new blessings of the gods, Gurluth had taught this to the uncloven ones. Back then Guhrleth had only commanded a small herd of beastmen, barely worthy of the name. But then the Gods had recognized Ghurleth's skill and might and had rewarded Ghurleth accordingly.
Ghurleth still remembered the way the uncloven ones that had clad themselves in armor had screamed as Ghurleth had engulfed them with his might. The dozen strongest and most worthy of the unworthy Ghurleth left alive, converting them into the true children of the forests. Newly cloven they had feasted on the unworthy ones they had foolishly protected so far, and Ghurleth had rewarded them for it.
Now that dozen stood amongst the hundreds of his ever growing tribe. They had, along with Ghurleth, ravaged the countryside these last days, their horde ever growing in the process, both by what meagre beastmen tribes there were in these lands joining Ghurleth and by the conversion and rutting of new ones.
But Ghurleth needed more. Even now Ghurleth didn't allow any hubris, Ghurleth needed numbers. More numbers. What broodmares he had would take moons to produce new forces. Luckily Ghurleth was smart. Ghurleth knew where he could get many new converts for Ghurleth's tribe.
With a roar and a single channeling of his might Ghurleth commanded hundreds of Ghurleths lesser brothers into a stampede.
Soon all uncloven ones would fear Ghurleth's might.
They did not need to go far to find new flesh. Ghurleth's scouts found a nest on their migration path, a new creation made sometime in the last moon. It was built by the hated pretenders, the rat-things; lowly creatures who spat on the gifts of the dark gods. Long have they held purchase on these lands, denying the birthright of their betters. Their lack of faith was compensated for by their foul machines, eagerly adopting the ways of civilization instead of relying on their own strength. No wonder they were so small and runty.
Before their trinkets had granted them boons over the beastmen, too powerful to face them and win. No more. Ghurleth now had the blessings to swat aside the pests.
Simpering cries arose all around Ghurleth's herd, followed by the whistles of the rat-thing's weapons. Many brays fell immediately, trampled underhoof or torn apart so their meat may yet provide to the herd. Ghurleth didn't particularly care, what mattered were the Gors; projectiles impacted off their hides, but the tiny things couldn't fell their roaring forms so easily.
The closer Ghurleth's host came to the rat-things' hovel the greater the resistance rose. More creatures emerged under the darkness, swords and spears and all kinds of civilized machines in their grubby paws, building orderly formations with squeaks and blows, instead of attacking as true children of Chaos. More Brays died, now some of the Ungors joined them.
The rat-things didn't realize they were already doomed; the first ranks of the vermind met Ghurleth's host, and promptly crumpled. So small and weak, even the Brays could easily crush them. Gors laughed and roared, sending blood flying with viscera every which way. Choicy bits of rat, what few there were, got snatched up from the ground or even out of the air, stuffed into slavering maws.
Ghurleth didn't let the herd take all the meat; one rat-thing in dark robes leapt off a tree at Ghurleth. It squeaked so pathetically when Ghurleth snatched it out of midair, snatching its neck in an iron grip. Without stopping Ghurleth brought the rat closer and chomped off its head, ripping it off to toss the rat to the Ungors, who themselves encouraged the minotaurs to charge.
Swallowing a lump of tasteless meat, Ghurleth bellowed, "Ghurleth demands prisoners!"
A snarl left Ghurleth's maw when the herd ignored the order. The Gors collided with the rat-things lines, smashing them apart as they deserved. Bodies flew, weapons broke, vermin died; in Ghurleth's heart there was joy at the destruction, eying a spindly metal watchtower fall in a heap, crushing several rats and a Bray with a tremendous crash. It was pleasing to Ghurleth, and thus to the gods. But if this kept up, Ghurleth's goal would go unfulfilled. The damned rats would replenish their losses while Ghurleth bled strength.
Grabbing a Gor by the neck, Ghurleth screamed in its face, "Prisoners!"
Around Ghurleth the 'battle' ended as swiftly as it began. Six to one odds would have meant a loss under normal conditions, a thousand rats obliterating Ghurleth's several hundred strong herd. Normally.
Now, Gors and Ungors wrestled a line of rats up in an uneven mess, hurting the struggling creatures. One rat bit a Gor's hand, earning a snarl before the beastmen ripped it in half. Elsewhere the rest of the herd destroyed the nest; anything that looked made was broken, anything that could be salvaged was taken. Gazing around, Ghurleth was pleased at the number of bodies; the herd would feast for days.
But first, Ghurleth had to dispense Ghurleth's gifts.
One rat was brought forth, its leather armor indicating a leader. Ghurleth snorted at it; the rat was too fragile to rely on its own strength, so it had to wear armor? Without it the flesh was no different than any others. Weak, small, and hissing at Ghurleth. This one would do.
Light collected in Ghurleth's paw, causing a deathly silence to settle over the observing herd. While not the first time they had witnessed the gift of the gods, they did not grow tired at seeing it again. Ghurleth was happy to demonstrate, as many times as necessary. Perhaps the rat was too? It was staring at the light with something resembling awe, or shock. Ghurleth didn't particularly care. Raising the glowing hand, the rat thrashed and struggled, helpless against the chuckling Gor's might.
With a grin Ghurleth pressed the hand against the rat's snout, and let the power flow. It screamed at the light engulfing its body, flesh twisting and tearing to Ghurleth's will; limbs extended, stubby horns popped up from its head, it grew taller. The flesh morphed from the sniveling rat into something more worthy of the dark gods.
A moment later the light vanished, Ghurleth lowering a hand fast enough that a shiver wasn't visible. In the Gor's hands the former rat slumped, collapsing after its support let go. A new Bray hit the dirt like a newborn, a small and weak one to be sure, but a proper beastman nonetheless. Swiftly kicking the weak Bray, Ghurleth roared again to meet the herd's triumphant cries.
Ghurleth swept towards the rest of the now thoroughly cowed prisoners, soon to be new members of Ghurleth's host. One down, many, many more to go.
AN:
Like always, immense credit goes to @Hapless Anon. Hope you enjoy the chapter
"A warherd."
Erza didn't like the sound of that, so much that she could forget the blood dripping from her hands. "Tell me what a warherd is."
Raffaelo spared a glance at the bodies, gesturing for her. He showed no signs of wishing to speak yet. Stifling a groan, Erza strode over to drag one headless beastman's arm, taking it away from his home. He led her to a shallow depression a short distance from the house, apparently for excess rainwater. Now she rolled it in there, as he gathered up sticks.
"A warherd is what it sounds like, a great number of beastmen rousing themselves to war. They are rare in these parts but it happens every now and again." He sent the green moon a scowl; Erza glanced, and felt some surprise to see how much of the sky it had crossed already, moving in a completely different direction than what she saw earlier. "I'm sure the northmen could regale you of tales fighting those monsters, when they're not screaming about their wolf god. But put simply, imagine several hundred of these things, as foul tempered as they smell."
"That's a troubling thought." Erza waved a hand in front of her nose, now growing aware of the stench; it wasn't its innards, but the fur itself outright stank. And she still had to grab the other.
"When beastmen go to war, its always a messy affair. They destroy anything manmade, steal everything they can, and kill everyone. Violently, often using the dead as rations." Raffaelo continued, gathering an armload of sticks.
"Where do they come from? They don't seem natural." Erza dragged the second body over, waiting until he tossed in his sticks before tossing the heavy creature in.
"They aren't. Beastmen are born in evil, and they spread it whenever and however they can. Wherever they attack, the forces of darkness are never far behind. The Sigmarites got one thing right: the best way to deal with these monsters is through fire." Raffaelo went to gather more kindling. She thought there was enough.
A bright flash had him around, his smoldering distast turning into a confused look at the sword in Erza's hand. She lifted the red and bronze sword, a bright flame igniting on the blade; the darkness was banished, even the sickly moonlight was pushed back under its blazing light. Smiling at her sword coming to her without issue, Erza swept it towards the beastmen.
For a moment the world was consumed by a flash of light and fire as the heat incinerated the drier wood right away, the stinky fur catching fire almost immediately. In moments muscles and skin were immolated, flesh boiling and the very bones of the beastmen cadavers melting away.
It only took a couple moments, maybe one or two seconds, but when she relented there was nothing left of the bodies but desolated land with what looked like molten earth where the fire had been most intense. Of the monsters she accidentally killed, there was only a couple charred bones remaining.
"Do beastmen take captives?"
Raffaelo had to close his eyes, blinking multiple times for his sight to properly return before he could respond, getting over the shock. "Excuse me?"
"You said before that my world was fortunate not to have things like skaven. There may be things worse than them however." Erza dismissed her sword, taking a moment to bask in the fire's warmth. "Truthfully, when I first saw these beastmen I thought they were monsters native to my home, called Vulcans. They take captives, female ones. You can assume why." She turned to face him. "Do beastmen do the same?"
"I… have heard stories of that. As rumors. Normally, the only reason a beastman would capture a prisoner is for a later snack. But every so often, there's a tall tale of a witch or an abducted woman being used for.. other purposes." He cleared his throat. "I should not speak of these matters. It is late, we have to go to Corno in the morning."
"Of course, I was simply curious." Erza nodded, turning back to the house. But not before sparing a look at the woods, wondering what was peering back at her.
Line break
Deep within a forest of Tilea, monsters dwelled.
The flesh let out one final cry as it was pushed onto the sacred stone, the green rock casting it's light on it already before it made contact.
Muscles bulged as it tried to break free from the Gors' hold, but the efforts amounted to nothing. Like all the prey that lived in the cities and lands outside of the forests it was weak, unable to contest the true rulers of the world. The true chosen of the Gods.
With a single kick of his hooves Ghurleth shattered its chin, stopping the flesh's pathetic struggle. Moving fast Ghurleth buried his ritual blade into it's chest, before tearing the still beating heart out with nothing but Ghurleth's bare hands.
Ghurleth let out a triumphant howl and swallowed it whole, the entire herd joining in, their cries drowning out the whimpers of those prey that still were off service to the tribe.
Even now Ghurleth felt the blood sacrifice channeling might into Ghurleth guts, growing Ghurleth even more, both physically and with the shamanic gifts that Ghurleth had been blessed with. Ghurleth's muscles bloated up even more and Ghurleth let out another scream, one of agony, not ecstasy this time.
Muscles and flesh expanded, bone grew and even Ghurleth's blessed horns massed on and on, shredding arteries, nerves and veins in the process. Internal injuries were afflicted that would have felled even a beastlord. For a long second, Ghurleth seemed to be on the verge of becoming a dreaded and pitiful Spawn.
But Ghurleth wasn't just some ordinary cloven one, not even one of the beastlord, Ghurleth was Ghurleth! Ghurleth was strong! Ghurleth had been chosen by the gods personally to bring down the vile and weak civilisations of the uncloven ones, be they furred or smoothskin.
Ghurleth maw gaped way open, vomiting a mass of blood as well as pieces of bone and teeth that had begun to fill Ghurleth's mouth. Ghurleth spewed a litany of chants, feeling how the great and awesome power of Ghurleth's patrons washed over Ghurleth's body, fixing the hideous harm that had been done and leaving only blessed growth.
A powerful roar swarmed over the encampment, cowing even the brainless minotaurs. Ghurleth's roar was not just a declaration of strength, but a promise made under the depraved light of the Chaos Moon: Ghurleth was strong, Ghurleth would vanquish all foes of the dark gods and clovenkind!
With a jab Ghurleth's stave stabbed into the dark forest, and the beastmen charged forth into the murky woods. Men feared it, as they should; the world didn't belong to them, and now it was time to remind the prey of their place. Ghurleth let out a baleful laugh at the center of the herd, going to enact the will of the gods.
A week ago, when Ghurleth had first received these new blessings of the gods, Gurluth had taught this to the uncloven ones. Back then Guhrleth had only commanded a small herd of beastmen, barely worthy of the name. But then the Gods had recognized Ghurleth's skill and might and had rewarded Ghurleth accordingly.
Ghurleth still remembered the way the uncloven ones that had clad themselves in armor had screamed as Ghurleth had engulfed them with his might. The dozen strongest and most worthy of the unworthy Ghurleth left alive, converting them into the true children of the forests. Newly cloven they had feasted on the unworthy ones they had foolishly protected so far, and Ghurleth had rewarded them for it.
Now that dozen stood amongst the hundreds of his ever growing tribe. They had, along with Ghurleth, ravaged the countryside these last days, their horde ever growing in the process, both by what meagre beastmen tribes there were in these lands joining Ghurleth and by the conversion and rutting of new ones.
But Ghurleth needed more. Even now Ghurleth didn't allow any hubris, Ghurleth needed numbers. More numbers. What broodmares he had would take moons to produce new forces. Luckily Ghurleth was smart. Ghurleth knew where he could get many new converts for Ghurleth's tribe.
With a roar and a single channeling of his might Ghurleth commanded hundreds of Ghurleths lesser brothers into a stampede.
Soon all uncloven ones would fear Ghurleth's might.
They did not need to go far to find new flesh. Ghurleth's scouts found a nest on their migration path, a new creation made sometime in the last moon. It was built by the hated pretenders, the rat-things; lowly creatures who spat on the gifts of the dark gods. Long have they held purchase on these lands, denying the birthright of their betters. Their lack of faith was compensated for by their foul machines, eagerly adopting the ways of civilization instead of relying on their own strength. No wonder they were so small and runty.
Before their trinkets had granted them boons over the beastmen, too powerful to face them and win. No more. Ghurleth now had the blessings to swat aside the pests.
Simpering cries arose all around Ghurleth's herd, followed by the whistles of the rat-thing's weapons. Many brays fell immediately, trampled underhoof or torn apart so their meat may yet provide to the herd. Ghurleth didn't particularly care, what mattered were the Gors; projectiles impacted off their hides, but the tiny things couldn't fell their roaring forms so easily.
The closer Ghurleth's host came to the rat-things' hovel the greater the resistance rose. More creatures emerged under the darkness, swords and spears and all kinds of civilized machines in their grubby paws, building orderly formations with squeaks and blows, instead of attacking as true children of Chaos. More Brays died, now some of the Ungors joined them.
The rat-things didn't realize they were already doomed; the first ranks of the vermind met Ghurleth's host, and promptly crumpled. So small and weak, even the Brays could easily crush them. Gors laughed and roared, sending blood flying with viscera every which way. Choicy bits of rat, what few there were, got snatched up from the ground or even out of the air, stuffed into slavering maws.
Ghurleth didn't let the herd take all the meat; one rat-thing in dark robes leapt off a tree at Ghurleth. It squeaked so pathetically when Ghurleth snatched it out of midair, snatching its neck in an iron grip. Without stopping Ghurleth brought the rat closer and chomped off its head, ripping it off to toss the rat to the Ungors, who themselves encouraged the minotaurs to charge.
Swallowing a lump of tasteless meat, Ghurleth bellowed, "Ghurleth demands prisoners!"
A snarl left Ghurleth's maw when the herd ignored the order. The Gors collided with the rat-things lines, smashing them apart as they deserved. Bodies flew, weapons broke, vermin died; in Ghurleth's heart there was joy at the destruction, eying a spindly metal watchtower fall in a heap, crushing several rats and a Bray with a tremendous crash. It was pleasing to Ghurleth, and thus to the gods. But if this kept up, Ghurleth's goal would go unfulfilled. The damned rats would replenish their losses while Ghurleth bled strength.
Grabbing a Gor by the neck, Ghurleth screamed in its face, "Prisoners!"
Around Ghurleth the 'battle' ended as swiftly as it began. Six to one odds would have meant a loss under normal conditions, a thousand rats obliterating Ghurleth's several hundred strong herd. Normally.
Now, Gors and Ungors wrestled a line of rats up in an uneven mess, hurting the struggling creatures. One rat bit a Gor's hand, earning a snarl before the beastmen ripped it in half. Elsewhere the rest of the herd destroyed the nest; anything that looked made was broken, anything that could be salvaged was taken. Gazing around, Ghurleth was pleased at the number of bodies; the herd would feast for days.
But first, Ghurleth had to dispense Ghurleth's gifts.
One rat was brought forth, its leather armor indicating a leader. Ghurleth snorted at it; the rat was too fragile to rely on its own strength, so it had to wear armor? Without it the flesh was no different than any others. Weak, small, and hissing at Ghurleth. This one would do.
Light collected in Ghurleth's paw, causing a deathly silence to settle over the observing herd. While not the first time they had witnessed the gift of the gods, they did not grow tired at seeing it again. Ghurleth was happy to demonstrate, as many times as necessary. Perhaps the rat was too? It was staring at the light with something resembling awe, or shock. Ghurleth didn't particularly care. Raising the glowing hand, the rat thrashed and struggled, helpless against the chuckling Gor's might.
With a grin Ghurleth pressed the hand against the rat's snout, and let the power flow. It screamed at the light engulfing its body, flesh twisting and tearing to Ghurleth's will; limbs extended, stubby horns popped up from its head, it grew taller. The flesh morphed from the sniveling rat into something more worthy of the dark gods.
A moment later the light vanished, Ghurleth lowering a hand fast enough that a shiver wasn't visible. In the Gor's hands the former rat slumped, collapsing after its support let go. A new Bray hit the dirt like a newborn, a small and weak one to be sure, but a proper beastman nonetheless. Swiftly kicking the weak Bray, Ghurleth roared again to meet the herd's triumphant cries.
Ghurleth swept towards the rest of the now thoroughly cowed prisoners, soon to be new members of Ghurleth's host. One down, many, many more to go.
AN:
Like always, immense credit goes to @Hapless Anon. Hope you enjoy the chapter
- Pronouns
- He
it´s not a brayherd.
yet
Ghurther plans to become a threat to all of civilisation!
Oh the humanity! Who is there in tilea to stop such evil
Last edited:
Chapter 6
- Pronouns
- He
Chapter 6
It was approaching midday when the two of them reached Corno. Going by Raffaelo´s statements it would´ve usually taken them way longer to reach the settlement than that, but with monsters like these running around, speed was paramount as Erza had decided.
As such at seeing the slow speed the middle aged man and his mule had been moving, she had made for some unconventional travel methods to reach the town in time, should it be in danger. Namely, she had grabbed the priest right after he was done arming himself up and putting some supplies on the mule with one arm, packed the animal with the other, lifted them over her shoulder and then stormed off.
Raffealo hadn't been too pleased.
"What indignity." He muttered for the hundredth time since they left, red faced after being carried like a sack of grain for an hour. The mule bayed in agreement, sounding absolutely miserable; it protested being the rider to be sure, if not for her armor Erza would have a hoof shaped bruise on her forearm. Now it just bounced along to her jog, baying occasionally and swatting her in the face with its tail.
Cresting a hill, Erza slowed her jog slightly. Ahead a short distance was a smallish town with short walls and several plumes of smoke rising, too few to be under attack. She spotted a handful of gates, a far one letting out a short caravan while admitting another larger one. This had to be the place.
"Ah, have we arrived?" Raffaelo couldn't hide the sheer eagerness in his voice, he must be excited to be able to protect the helpless people of this town. What a truly courageous man.
"I believe so." Erza smiled, jogging ahead at her old speed. Which happened to be just under that of a galloping horse, she wanted to pace herself in case there was a fight ahead.
Approaching the main gate, Erza again slowed to listen in, but a man bellowing "Halt!" Earned her irritation. Frowning in frustration, she cut in front of a small wagon that was still a hundred paces away to go right up to some halberd equipped guards. They seemed tense, pointing weapons at them.
"Hello, is the town in danger?" She asked quickly, jostling her passengers. "We are here to defend it!" She announced loudly and clearly.
"What in Myrmidia's name…" one man gawked.
"Wait, hello." Erza growled, but swiveled so Raffaelo could speak to them face to face. He was still red faced, slumped over her shoulder but waving weakly. "Ah, hello, we are travelers, and my, ah, lady friend here is new to these parts. Is the, ah, city under attack?"
"…no?" one man's jaw hung open, earning a huff from Erza. Standards at this town had to be low.
"Ah, that's great. Is there an entry toll?" Raffaelo smiled with a strained cough, the mule snorting tiredly.
"Its, ug, one silver per head. Two for, uh, any animals. Normally we inspect for, um…" the guard paused to force his jaw shut. Now Erza felt some pity; he had to be new, replacement for a fallen guard most likely.
"Arg, here." Raffaelo reached up to snag a jostling bag off Ricardo, opening his purse strings to pour some clinking silver pieces into his cupped palm. His hand shook slightly as he offered the coins.
One guard nudged his counterpart, and with a sigh he crept closer, coughing after Erza started tapping her boot. The coins fell into his hand, a second later he returned one. "Ah, you overpaid."
"Thank you." Erza swung Raffaelo and Ricardo around, plucked the coin, and darted through the open gate. She only slowed to make sure the mule didn't smack its head off the grates, then carried on into the trade town of Corno.
Just ahead was a big Plaza, bustling with activity. Hundreds of people were crowding different market stalls large and small, permanent and temporary alike. Everything from tiny tents of handmade goods to a huge wagon carrying dozens of men and rows upon rows of goods.
"Come and get your pelts! Fine leather pelts for but a single silver." A hawker called.
"The finest spices are right here, a whole pack for only two silvers." A wealthier man carrying an assortment of exotic odds and ends waved at rows of vials.
Erza paused at one close knit wagon, where a group of short bearded men gathered with crates of glittering jewels and gold and other metals, from iron to copper.
"You lass, interested in the finest ore from Karak Kaferkammaz?" One stubby man asked her. "The finest metal in the whole region at a competitive price."
They were offering all kinds of things, but a whiff of something made Erza pause. Something warm, and baked, and… it had to be-
She was off in a full sprint, scaring her passengers in her haste. Erza shoved past traders and buyers, ignoring their cries and protests turning into shock, eyes narrowing at an actual shop. It was a permanent building at the edge of the plaza, with stalls set up outside. A salesperson was luring a customer closer, then he flinched when Erza shoved a woman aside to get right in his face.
"You, how much?" She demanded, swallowing a wad of saliva. For laid out in neat rows were large, cream encrusted, and freshly baked cakes. Sweet, delicious cakes ripe for eating.
The baker gawked. "Uh-"
Erza reached up and snagged a second bag next to Raffaelo's, containing some of the jewel she had on her. Her gauntlet shoved in his chest hard enough to jostle the baker.
"How much?" Erza loomed, radiating hunger and declining patience.
"I, ah, don't know what this-"
"You want silver? Fine, how much?" Erza's voice rose, making him shrink back.
"A-a-a s-silver apiece! Take what you want!" He wailed, his eyes widening as he looked at the coins.
"Wait, Miss Sca-" Raffaelo grunted as she snagged his coin purse, yanking it free to shove at the baker. Finally Erza set down her charges, or dropped them in Ricardo's case, the mule braying indignantly at her rough plopping. Raffaelo collapsed with a cry, falling onto his stomach.
The coin purse felt heavy, there had to be many silver coins in there. And the baker did say she could take whatever she hungered for. But which to choose? There were so many; ones that looked like strawberry toppings, some blueberries, others were positively exotic. Erza couldn't decide!
Erza darted to the middle of the stall and picked up the whole thing, her eyes flashing with mortal terror when a cake threatened to drop. "I'll return this."
The baker let his jaw hit the ground even as he cowered, he must've doubted her intent.
"You have my word I will return your stall. In due time." Erza patted her armor with a clenched fist, approving of his slow nod.
"Wait, Miss Scarlet-" Raffaelo reached for her, but Erza was already stuffing her face. A child gawked at her, looking at her cakes with obvious hunger, then ran away screaming when she glared; this was her cake!
She chomped on one and squealed in delight; it was downright heavenly! The moistness, the texture, and the taste, it was exquisite! Oh, she could taste out the honey, the carefully laced flour, the cream! It´s been ages since she last ate something properly sweet! When it was gone she licked her fingers despondently, missing that amazing cake already. Her hungry gaze turned to the rest of the stall, where more awaited.
Each cake was devoured, each person who came too close got a taste of her glare. Including the baker, who came closer with a question, but her newest chomp scared him off. A crowd was beginning to gather around her, but so long as nobody took a cake she didn't mind.
She was so enchanted by her treats that a troupe of marching guards met the usual warding glare, increasing in hostility when they flinched yet stood their ground. They seemed upset, well tough; she paid for these cakes.
"It seems as if someone is eating without paying."
Her chewing slowed, spotting a man weaving through the guards towards her. Upon clearing their ranks she took a moment to examine him; short black hair, brown eyes, a long scar below his left eye, a nobleman grade trousers and jacket, and a hilted saber on his hip. A lord of this town perhaps. He smiled warmly as she devoured another delicious pastry.
"There was a disturbance reported, of a fearsome ogre woman who stole from a baker. You're a little short to be an ogre however." He elaborated; big talk for someone who was shorter than her, confirmed when she stood up.
"Is there a problem? I paid for this food." She frowned, grabbing another cake.
He smiled, but his teeth were gritted. "Good sir, how many coins are in that purse?"
"Fifteen." Raffaelo shoved forward, though a guard blocked him. "My sincerest apologies, I didn't mean for this to-"
"Fifteen? These cakes go for a silver apiece, and you seem to… have eaten more than that." The noble's power of observation was skilled.
His eyes flickered between the cakes, the more than a little intimidated baker and her.
"These cakes were intended for the big entrance ceremony of my caravan in migrolino." He blinked at her. "You…. actually ate all of them." He actually sounded equally horrified and impressed at that. "And you don't have enough money here to pay for them." A grin began to form on his face.
"Not arriving with them will certainly cause some damage to my profits. Will you make it up to me?"
"How so?" Erza finished her last treat. If he had some manual labor to do then so be it, this wouldn't be the first time she did some work to make up for her expenses.
"Well then…" he fetched a much larger coin purse and handed it over to the baker, without bothering to count. "Would you accompany me lady…"
"Scarlet, Erza Scarlet. You are?" She turned around.
"Emanuello Bianchi, of the Bianchi family of Verazzo." He looked like he was awaiting some reaction from her, and was puzzled for a moment when there was none. "Your name fits you like a rose on the plains."
"Thank you, that's kind." Erza nodded, glancing at Raffaelo; he looked worried. "May I ask how long this make-work will take? I don't want to keep Father Grimaldi waiting for too long, we are here on business."
"Oh don´t worry, I´m sure nothing´s going to happen. I just want to talk." He raised his arms in a disarming motion, sending her a smile.
"Hang on just a moment." Raffaelo protested as the guards held him back.
"It'll be alright father Grimaldi, its just a talk." Erza followed Emanuello as he turned to leave, waving off him trying to take ahold of her hand. While it may have been rude to defy the customs of this land, she was already in trouble. And her hands were filthy with crumbs and leftover cream, a loving reminder of that delicious cake feast.
"So then Lady Scarlet, what place do you hail from that has such beauty?" Emanuello smiled.
"The Kingdom of Fiore, I call Magnolia home. It certainly is a lovely place, the flowers there are in bloom." Erza frowned as she recalled her home. "I mean no disrespect to your town, but it simply doesn't compare to Magnolia."
"Ah, it sounds like a wonderful place." Emanuello nodded with his smile; she thought she heard a mutter from a guard. "Though, my town?" He laughed. "You´re a little bit wrong there. I´m just the head of this little caravan here." He gestured at a line of wagons, fancy ones with plenty of guards and even more wares.
"Oh, my apologies. You looked like a nobleman, I assumed this was your settlement." Erza bowed.
"It is alright. I can't be upset at such a minor mistake, especially for someone who isn't from around here." He led her to a house that was significantly larger and more luxurious than the others. She followed, wondering what work he wanted her to do.
AN:
So, new chapter, hope you enjoy
It was approaching midday when the two of them reached Corno. Going by Raffaelo´s statements it would´ve usually taken them way longer to reach the settlement than that, but with monsters like these running around, speed was paramount as Erza had decided.
As such at seeing the slow speed the middle aged man and his mule had been moving, she had made for some unconventional travel methods to reach the town in time, should it be in danger. Namely, she had grabbed the priest right after he was done arming himself up and putting some supplies on the mule with one arm, packed the animal with the other, lifted them over her shoulder and then stormed off.
Raffealo hadn't been too pleased.
"What indignity." He muttered for the hundredth time since they left, red faced after being carried like a sack of grain for an hour. The mule bayed in agreement, sounding absolutely miserable; it protested being the rider to be sure, if not for her armor Erza would have a hoof shaped bruise on her forearm. Now it just bounced along to her jog, baying occasionally and swatting her in the face with its tail.
Cresting a hill, Erza slowed her jog slightly. Ahead a short distance was a smallish town with short walls and several plumes of smoke rising, too few to be under attack. She spotted a handful of gates, a far one letting out a short caravan while admitting another larger one. This had to be the place.
"Ah, have we arrived?" Raffaelo couldn't hide the sheer eagerness in his voice, he must be excited to be able to protect the helpless people of this town. What a truly courageous man.
"I believe so." Erza smiled, jogging ahead at her old speed. Which happened to be just under that of a galloping horse, she wanted to pace herself in case there was a fight ahead.
Approaching the main gate, Erza again slowed to listen in, but a man bellowing "Halt!" Earned her irritation. Frowning in frustration, she cut in front of a small wagon that was still a hundred paces away to go right up to some halberd equipped guards. They seemed tense, pointing weapons at them.
"Hello, is the town in danger?" She asked quickly, jostling her passengers. "We are here to defend it!" She announced loudly and clearly.
"What in Myrmidia's name…" one man gawked.
"Wait, hello." Erza growled, but swiveled so Raffaelo could speak to them face to face. He was still red faced, slumped over her shoulder but waving weakly. "Ah, hello, we are travelers, and my, ah, lady friend here is new to these parts. Is the, ah, city under attack?"
"…no?" one man's jaw hung open, earning a huff from Erza. Standards at this town had to be low.
"Ah, that's great. Is there an entry toll?" Raffaelo smiled with a strained cough, the mule snorting tiredly.
"Its, ug, one silver per head. Two for, uh, any animals. Normally we inspect for, um…" the guard paused to force his jaw shut. Now Erza felt some pity; he had to be new, replacement for a fallen guard most likely.
"Arg, here." Raffaelo reached up to snag a jostling bag off Ricardo, opening his purse strings to pour some clinking silver pieces into his cupped palm. His hand shook slightly as he offered the coins.
One guard nudged his counterpart, and with a sigh he crept closer, coughing after Erza started tapping her boot. The coins fell into his hand, a second later he returned one. "Ah, you overpaid."
"Thank you." Erza swung Raffaelo and Ricardo around, plucked the coin, and darted through the open gate. She only slowed to make sure the mule didn't smack its head off the grates, then carried on into the trade town of Corno.
Just ahead was a big Plaza, bustling with activity. Hundreds of people were crowding different market stalls large and small, permanent and temporary alike. Everything from tiny tents of handmade goods to a huge wagon carrying dozens of men and rows upon rows of goods.
"Come and get your pelts! Fine leather pelts for but a single silver." A hawker called.
"The finest spices are right here, a whole pack for only two silvers." A wealthier man carrying an assortment of exotic odds and ends waved at rows of vials.
Erza paused at one close knit wagon, where a group of short bearded men gathered with crates of glittering jewels and gold and other metals, from iron to copper.
"You lass, interested in the finest ore from Karak Kaferkammaz?" One stubby man asked her. "The finest metal in the whole region at a competitive price."
They were offering all kinds of things, but a whiff of something made Erza pause. Something warm, and baked, and… it had to be-
She was off in a full sprint, scaring her passengers in her haste. Erza shoved past traders and buyers, ignoring their cries and protests turning into shock, eyes narrowing at an actual shop. It was a permanent building at the edge of the plaza, with stalls set up outside. A salesperson was luring a customer closer, then he flinched when Erza shoved a woman aside to get right in his face.
"You, how much?" She demanded, swallowing a wad of saliva. For laid out in neat rows were large, cream encrusted, and freshly baked cakes. Sweet, delicious cakes ripe for eating.
The baker gawked. "Uh-"
Erza reached up and snagged a second bag next to Raffaelo's, containing some of the jewel she had on her. Her gauntlet shoved in his chest hard enough to jostle the baker.
"How much?" Erza loomed, radiating hunger and declining patience.
"I, ah, don't know what this-"
"You want silver? Fine, how much?" Erza's voice rose, making him shrink back.
"A-a-a s-silver apiece! Take what you want!" He wailed, his eyes widening as he looked at the coins.
"Wait, Miss Sca-" Raffaelo grunted as she snagged his coin purse, yanking it free to shove at the baker. Finally Erza set down her charges, or dropped them in Ricardo's case, the mule braying indignantly at her rough plopping. Raffaelo collapsed with a cry, falling onto his stomach.
The coin purse felt heavy, there had to be many silver coins in there. And the baker did say she could take whatever she hungered for. But which to choose? There were so many; ones that looked like strawberry toppings, some blueberries, others were positively exotic. Erza couldn't decide!
Erza darted to the middle of the stall and picked up the whole thing, her eyes flashing with mortal terror when a cake threatened to drop. "I'll return this."
The baker let his jaw hit the ground even as he cowered, he must've doubted her intent.
"You have my word I will return your stall. In due time." Erza patted her armor with a clenched fist, approving of his slow nod.
"Wait, Miss Scarlet-" Raffaelo reached for her, but Erza was already stuffing her face. A child gawked at her, looking at her cakes with obvious hunger, then ran away screaming when she glared; this was her cake!
She chomped on one and squealed in delight; it was downright heavenly! The moistness, the texture, and the taste, it was exquisite! Oh, she could taste out the honey, the carefully laced flour, the cream! It´s been ages since she last ate something properly sweet! When it was gone she licked her fingers despondently, missing that amazing cake already. Her hungry gaze turned to the rest of the stall, where more awaited.
Each cake was devoured, each person who came too close got a taste of her glare. Including the baker, who came closer with a question, but her newest chomp scared him off. A crowd was beginning to gather around her, but so long as nobody took a cake she didn't mind.
She was so enchanted by her treats that a troupe of marching guards met the usual warding glare, increasing in hostility when they flinched yet stood their ground. They seemed upset, well tough; she paid for these cakes.
"It seems as if someone is eating without paying."
Her chewing slowed, spotting a man weaving through the guards towards her. Upon clearing their ranks she took a moment to examine him; short black hair, brown eyes, a long scar below his left eye, a nobleman grade trousers and jacket, and a hilted saber on his hip. A lord of this town perhaps. He smiled warmly as she devoured another delicious pastry.
"There was a disturbance reported, of a fearsome ogre woman who stole from a baker. You're a little short to be an ogre however." He elaborated; big talk for someone who was shorter than her, confirmed when she stood up.
"Is there a problem? I paid for this food." She frowned, grabbing another cake.
He smiled, but his teeth were gritted. "Good sir, how many coins are in that purse?"
"Fifteen." Raffaelo shoved forward, though a guard blocked him. "My sincerest apologies, I didn't mean for this to-"
"Fifteen? These cakes go for a silver apiece, and you seem to… have eaten more than that." The noble's power of observation was skilled.
His eyes flickered between the cakes, the more than a little intimidated baker and her.
"These cakes were intended for the big entrance ceremony of my caravan in migrolino." He blinked at her. "You…. actually ate all of them." He actually sounded equally horrified and impressed at that. "And you don't have enough money here to pay for them." A grin began to form on his face.
"Not arriving with them will certainly cause some damage to my profits. Will you make it up to me?"
"How so?" Erza finished her last treat. If he had some manual labor to do then so be it, this wouldn't be the first time she did some work to make up for her expenses.
"Well then…" he fetched a much larger coin purse and handed it over to the baker, without bothering to count. "Would you accompany me lady…"
"Scarlet, Erza Scarlet. You are?" She turned around.
"Emanuello Bianchi, of the Bianchi family of Verazzo." He looked like he was awaiting some reaction from her, and was puzzled for a moment when there was none. "Your name fits you like a rose on the plains."
"Thank you, that's kind." Erza nodded, glancing at Raffaelo; he looked worried. "May I ask how long this make-work will take? I don't want to keep Father Grimaldi waiting for too long, we are here on business."
"Oh don´t worry, I´m sure nothing´s going to happen. I just want to talk." He raised his arms in a disarming motion, sending her a smile.
"Hang on just a moment." Raffaelo protested as the guards held him back.
"It'll be alright father Grimaldi, its just a talk." Erza followed Emanuello as he turned to leave, waving off him trying to take ahold of her hand. While it may have been rude to defy the customs of this land, she was already in trouble. And her hands were filthy with crumbs and leftover cream, a loving reminder of that delicious cake feast.
"So then Lady Scarlet, what place do you hail from that has such beauty?" Emanuello smiled.
"The Kingdom of Fiore, I call Magnolia home. It certainly is a lovely place, the flowers there are in bloom." Erza frowned as she recalled her home. "I mean no disrespect to your town, but it simply doesn't compare to Magnolia."
"Ah, it sounds like a wonderful place." Emanuello nodded with his smile; she thought she heard a mutter from a guard. "Though, my town?" He laughed. "You´re a little bit wrong there. I´m just the head of this little caravan here." He gestured at a line of wagons, fancy ones with plenty of guards and even more wares.
"Oh, my apologies. You looked like a nobleman, I assumed this was your settlement." Erza bowed.
"It is alright. I can't be upset at such a minor mistake, especially for someone who isn't from around here." He led her to a house that was significantly larger and more luxurious than the others. She followed, wondering what work he wanted her to do.
AN:
So, new chapter, hope you enjoy
- Pronouns
- He
Not steal her brain as much as, well, erza really, really likes her sweets
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- Location
- Russia
Oh, okay then.
It just I has already started to suspect Changer' Plot at work here
- Pronouns
- He
no, no.
Erza is just.... really not a rational person when it concerns cake
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=853uoh_2BKQ
- Pronouns
- Masculine
One theory is that strawberry cake is Erza's... well... dragon food.
You know how Natsu only eats fire and really spicy food?
Its because everything else just doesn't compare.
So for Erza... Strawberry Cake is might very well be her Dragon Food...
You know how Natsu only eats fire and really spicy food?
Its because everything else just doesn't compare.
So for Erza... Strawberry Cake is might very well be her Dragon Food...
- Pronouns
- He
personally i think it´s more a case of erza having never really tasted and experienced sweets in her youth given that she was a child slave and now overcompensates for that
- Location
- Philippines
Makes total sense, plus as a bonus adds a darker more tragic spin to her comedic obsession