Chapter 1: The Arena

The small gladiatorial arena echoed with the roars of man and nightmares. From it a small stand, three men watched the insuring combat with a mixture of expressions: ranging from disgust to indifference. The first of these figures was a giant; tall and muscular, clad in olive green coat over a dark sleeve shirt. His brown hair was cut short, and his aged face was covered with a equally dark beard.

His name was Hazel Rainart, member of the Dark Cabal of Salem. And he watched the combat with judging disgust. The latest addition to Salem's Order was a violent creature; one who burned with a constant hatred, one who's rage reminded Hazel too much of his own. A dark reflection. Though Hazel would never turn of his family as the combatant did his, though given their treatment of him mitigated the cruelness of the act.

This however, did not stop Hazel from judging despite his disgust he could not fault the combatant for both his martial skill and urge to serve Salem. Both characteristics will become useful for the coming war against Ozpin. Hate surged through Hazel as he thought of the Headmaster.

Just one of the many titles he assumed over the long years, though his methods remained unchanged. He still sent others to die in his place, just like Hazel's sister Gretchen. Something in Hazel's face must have displayed his disgust as the man to his right raised an eyebrow and spoke.

"Something wrong Hazel?" spoke a condensing voice to his right, a voice which brimmed with a self-assured arrogance.

Hazel turned his head slightly to look upon the thin figure of Arthur Watts. Watts is tall man with a slim build and slightly tanned skin, though despite his height he still couldn't look Hazel in the eye. His hair was a mixture short black and gray hair, though his most distinctive feature was his large moustache. He grinned at Hazel, waiting for an answer from his giant acquaintance. Hazel, unwilling to discuss to the true reasoning for his annoyance, turned back to the arena.

"He toys too much with his prey," noted Hazel, his voice a deep judgement. "He relishes far too much in the pain he inflicts."

"Well one shouldn't hold it against him!" crowed a manic voice, halfway between a showman and a lunatic. "I, for one, like our latest friend."

Hazel hummed into his chest, as from the shadows came Tyrian Callows. He was a pale man; with golden eyes that danced manically in light of the arena, he wore a white sleeveless jacket with leather belts strapped to it. His jacket is left open, exposing his bare chest, which is criss-crossed with many a scar. His arms are covered with purple bandages and leather vambraces. And protruding from his back was a scorpion tail.

"Defending your fellow Faunus?" mocked Watts, his grin returning. "I find myself agreeing with Hazel. He's nothing more than a mad berserker."

"I never said that," Hazel rumbled. "There's more to him then that, I simply dislike his inability to end the fight quick."

Now it was Watts's turn to frown, he looked down at the pit where the combatant tore apart another Beowolf with a savage ease. The combatant was a giant, tall as Hazel even, however; unlike Hazel he was not as broad, though he did not lack muscle. He was covered in a sickly blue armor - though both his arms, calves and midriff were bare- and upon his face there was a mask in the shape of wolf. His name was Fenrir Branwen, the latest and youngest addition to the Cabal.

"Oh yes," said Watts, as Fenrir tore the head of another Beowolf. "Clearly he's not a mindless brute."

All three men cringed as Fenrir's roar echoed off the walls of the arena, despite this Fenrir still had not activated his semblance. In truth, he had not activated during his training since Salem chastised him for his constant use of it. If there was one fault in Fenrir's training: it was his inflexibility. He took Salem's advice far too literally, and since his chastisement he had not use his semblance since, despite the strength that it granted him.

"I've watched him," Hazel rumbled. "He learns through the experience of pain, each time a Grimm threw a punch and caught him across the face, he learned the best movements to avoid such a blow a second time."

Watts merely sneer as his companion's analysis, but did not disagree with it. There was too much truth to that statement, as while Fenrir lacked any form of formal education, his life among bandits did lead to two things: a knack of violence and an uncanny ability to learn through pain.

Both were most likely traits he learned from his upbringing among the Branwens. Until he made them a feast for Grimm, of course. Over his period of training under Salem, Fenrir grew in prowess. Gone were the clumsy hacking of a blood-soaked lunatic, now when Fenrir fought it was with a cold precision. Still didn't stop him from bellowing with joy however, Some things are beyond even Salem, Watts thought snidely.

"He's still a brute," decreed Watts. "All he is is fodder for Salem's plans, something to divert Ozpin's eyes from his betters."

"You and I both know that is a lie Arthur," responded Hazel. "Salem is teaching him much, too much if he's simply to be wasted as fodder."

With that Tyrian growled under his breath, as while he approved as Fenrir's violent streak he despised the closeness that he'd gained with Salem as her new student. That coupled with Fenrir's refusal to acknowledge Salem's divinity, only to refer by the title 'Queen', annoyed the scorpion Faunus to no end. Leading to odd relationship as either both Faunus being at each other's throat or treating each other like old friends. Which, of course, irritated Watts to no end.

"The brute lacks subtlety Hazel, what can he bring to the table that the rest of us cannot?" ask Watts. "Even Tyrian can hide his insanity, somewhat, when necessary."

Hazel rolled his eyes at Watts's complaints, he'd argued against Fenrir's induction the day Salem brought Fenrir from the wastes around her castle. Despite Salem quashing such complaints, Watts still whined to his cohorts on his unreliability. No doubt due to how Fenrir's semblance took control of him. For that Hazel felt a stab of pity, to have a part of your very being be so self-destructive. It's little wonder he is what he is, nor is it a surprise he's decided to abandon the use of it. The discussion of their cohort was ended by the sound of brutish bellow. Into the arena stomped the apish nightmare of a Grimm. An Alpha Beringel.

All three men watched as a Beringel matched into the arena, swatting aside lesser kin. Fenrir turned and planted his monstrous hybrid of chainsaw and axe, Hati, into the earth. It appeared he wanted to face the Beringel on equal terms, most likely due to the fact that he was in need of improving his fisticuffs. Fenrir placed himself into a fighting stance and awaited the Beringel's charge, and with a roar the Grimm leapt towards the Faunus.

Fenrir dodged to the side, raising his arms to block a blow from the giant Grimm. The Beringel followed up the blow by wrapping it's colossal arms around Fenrir bear-hugging him, it however made one mistake, it didn't trap his arms.

Fenrir leveled blow after blow to the Grimm's face, dislodging one of its tusks, before crashing his head into the Beringel stumbling the beast. With its grip on him weak, Fenrir tore himself free crawling over the beast and kicking out one of it's legs.

The Beringel stumbled into the dirt before, with a roar, swinging an uppercut at the Faunus. With a predator's grace Fenrir spun around the blow, and leveled his own into the Grimm's shoulder. Something broke as the Grimm stumbled into the dirt a second time, Fenrir then cut off it's roar with an iron-shod knee to the face, cracking it's mask.

With it dazed Fenrir wrapped his own tree-trunk thick arms around the monster, lifting the brutish Grimm into the air. Then with a crash akin to thunder, Fenrir threw the Beringel onto the ground, slamming it on it's back. As Fenrir leveled another blow to its face, the Grimm rolled aside leading Fenrir hitting the ground instead.

He grunted in annoyance, as aura shielded him from the blow, and looked up just in time to see the brutish fist of the ape-Grimm connect with his face. Fenrir flew across the arena like a cannonball before colliding with the wall. Fenrir groaned as he rose to his feet, he felt like he'd been run over by an Ursa, a pain he was actually acquainted with. Fenrir glanced down and noticed the dislodged tusk of the Beringel, a plan formulate in the Faunus's mind, grabbing the tusk Fenrir charged the Beringel.

He slid on his knees, underneath the Beringel's roundhouse, slicing at it's undersides as he went under the beast. As the Grimm stumbled from it's wound Fenrir leaped onto it's back, constantly stabbing the brute in it's head. The beast appeared to dull-witted to register such blows and continue to weather the blows. Fenrir grunted in anger, why wouldn't it just die? Deciding it was time for a change of tactics, Fenrir rammed his own fingers into one of the beast's eye sockets, while jamming the tusk into the other. The Beringel roared in pain. It felt that.

"Hardly fair," snarked Watts.

"Is there such a thing as fairness in combat?" ask Hazel, raising an eyebrow to the Doctor.

Watts merely harrumphed in response, while Hazel turned himself back to the combat. In truth it was a sound strategy: a foe with sight taken was a dead one. This plan had one flaw however: it angered the Beringel. Grabbing Fenrir by his head the Beringel then dashed the Faunus to the ground, choking him. Hazel, Tyrian and Watts watched on with an interest as instead of submitting. Fenrir grasped the hand choking him and with his muscles bulging, began to pull the hand apart.

The Beringel roared in angered as Fenrir slowly but surely began to prise the Beringel's monstrous grip from around his neck. With his own bloody roar of defiance coupled with a surge of violent strength, Fenrir snapped the hand apart. Blind, wounded and now unable to use one hand- the Beringel was in a dire state. The creature crumbled to its knees, accepting the inevitable, as Fenrir marched towards it. Placing one hand on top of it's skull to keep it in place, Fenrir pulled back his arm before levelling a blow which severed the Grimm's head from it's shoulders. Fenrir took three heavy breathes before roaring his victory to the roof.

"Do he have to do that everytime he kills something?" asked Watts, rubbing his ear in annoyance. "His throat must be torn to bits by now."

"Nothing wrong a little exuberance!" cackled Tyrian, before adding his own howls alongside Fenrir.

This prompted Watts to place a hand on his face in frustration.

All fell silent, however, when a figure of regal, arcane beauty glided into the arena. Salem, the Dark Queen of Grimm, approached Fenrir with sensuous ease. Fenrir inclined his head, deferring himself to her authority. From their stand Watts, Hazel and Tyrian traded looks, curious to see what Salem had to say. While Fenrir removed his wolf mask to look upon Salem without anything obstructing his view of her.

"Fenrir why do you torment yourself by keeping your might caged?" asked Salem, her voice judging.

"I was becoming compliant under its excess," Fenrir explained, his tone strained as he struggled to look Salem in the eye, as like Tyrian, he loathed to displease her. "This combat has been a test of my self-control, one I believed I have passed."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

That led to intake of breathes from the stand, and from the corner of eye Fenrir glared up at the stand at the three figures. Annoyed by how their were treating this entire situation like some trivial television drama.

"Fenrir, you're mastery of your semblance does not depend on simply denying its existence," Salem explained. "You are in dire need of finding a middle ground. Did you not realize how easily you could of ended your fight with the Beringel? How with it's power you could have torn it to pieces with ease?"

"Yet you have already stated that I over rely on it," Fenrir said, watching Salem's gaze turn cold he quickly pressed forward. "I have follow your instructions to the letter and yet it won't silence, you promised me control! I see only two options; either I deny its existence or I indulge it completely!"

Salem tilted her head at this open defiance, it was not a surprise however. At least once a member of her Cabal had questioned her knowledge, it was simply in their nature to do so and for it she didn't blame them. In fact, she began to believe it was some form of rite of passage. Still it could not be allowed to go unpunished, as the opportunity presented to her may also allow her to fully enlighten Fenrir to his semblance's potential.

"Well then Fenrir," Salem said, as the sound of hooves against cobblestones could be heard. "Allow me to broaden your horizons."

With that Salem, left the arena and passed her entered a true creature of nightmare. A horrid fusion of man and horse, rider and steed. It twitched erratically, as if reacting to something which only it could see. Fenrir hurriedly grabbed Hati from where he placed it as he stared on one of the most vicious and powerful breed of Grimm to exist: a Nuckelavee.

"Well, looks like we've come to the sudden death," jeered Watts.

Hazel merely grunted in response as he looked down upon the arena, Fenrir would need his wits about him if he was to survive this battle. It appeared that Salem had taken Fenrir's criticisms to heart and intended to teach him the error of his ways. Through a trial by fire. Let us hope you are not burned too badly, thought Hazel grimly.

Faunus and Grimm stared at one and another, seconds of silence passed while Fenrir placed his mask back upon his face. The silence of the arena was broken when the Nuckelavee let out a rasping scream: one of a tortured soul. Fenrir responded with his own howl. Then the battle began in it's bloody earnest.

Author's Notes: I'm back like Mercury Black! It's nice to write more on my evil wolf boi, but anyhow I digress. This fic shan't be as long as A Youth with A Wolf in His Belly, as is more just a small insight into Salem's factions politics. As well as acting as Fenrir's own little training arc. Despite this I hope you all enjoy it, remember to drop a review and enjoy the rest of your day!