The Hunter of Dunwall: A Dishonoured 2 x RWBY story (Being Rewritten)

Chapter 1: Cobblestone to tile (rewritten)

(This chapter has finished being rewritten)

The penthouse of Luca Abele wasn't as heavily guarded as most people thought. In the dead of night, a figure was seen standing still on the wall that surrounded the penthouse. Why was he here? Simple, he had a job. That job was to kill Luca Abele, and if possible, find out more info on Delilah.

Walking along the wall of metal and stone, his ears perked up. He heard something, or rather someone nearby. Leaning down a few feet away sat two guards, one smoking and the other biting chunks off an apple. The man walked a little closer, just enough to hear them, but not close enough for them to see him.

"Peaceful night, ey Greg?" The smoking grunt said.

"Beautiful. Very calm and relaxing." The second replied.

The two grunts stared off into the distance, staring at the lights down below that lined the streets.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Greg raised an eyebrow.

"Sure, Mick, ask away." Greg answered while tossing his apple core away.

Mick opened his mouth to speak, but closed it after no words came out. He attempted again, but failed once more.

"Is it really that hard to ask a question?" Greg chuckled to himself for than anything. Though he still did earn a glare from his friend.

After a long sigh, Mick asked,

"Do you think we made the right choice siding with Delilah? I know that if we didn't then we would be killed, but that doesnt change the guilt I feel. We've had to kill innocents, former comrades, we've had to burn homes down all because of Delilah and her lankeys. Sometimes a question if it was really worth it."

The second grunt was quiet and didn't reply, his fingers tapping his chin. He exhaled.

"That's a pretty good question, sometimes I wonder that myself, but you have to remember we're doing this for survival." The second grunt responded.

Greg received no response or any type of indication. After a few moments of silence he turned to Mick. Only he wasn't their.

"Mick? Where did you go?" He called out. Someone answered, but not one that Greg expected.

"Sorry, but Mick has been relieved of duty." A voice said.

Greg's hand immediately went for his sword, hand on the hilt and eyes looking frantically around for the owner of the voice.

"And soon, you will be too."

Greg's sword was kicked away from behind and a arm went around his neck, placing him in a choke hold. The grunt struggled to catch his breath, and his vision began to blur. Soon, he was on the ground out cold.

Fern dragged the two unconcious bodies out of sight before continuing on his way. Fern knew that nearly half of the city watch were forced into working for Delilah because if their fear of death or to protect their families, the conversation early had proved it.

Fern sighed, the guilt of killing what cojld possibly be innocent guards was a little heart wrenching, nevertheless Fern pushed those feelings aside.

Fern eventually reached a balcony that he jumped onto. Activating dark vision and confirming no one was there, he went inside.

Fern had studied the layout of the penthouse, so he knew how to navigate through. Fern practically glided through the rooms, taking what he wanted while he searched for Abele.

Eventually Fern found himself right in front of Abele's bedroom. The royal spymaster tried the handle, but it was locked, and it was very unfortunate that he didn't bring any picks with him.

Without the use of picks, Fern resorted to kicking down the door, his foot smashed into it and he watched as it fell down with a loud thud. Using his dark vision once more, he checked if any guards were coming up from the noise. There was no one. How strange. For a penthouse like this with a very important person living it, you'd think they'd have more than just two guards.

Something wasn't right.

Fern pulled his sabre just in time to block the blow of another sword. In front of him was a monstrosity of machinery, a large machine with blades that acted as arms, and a head similar to that of a bird skull.

Fern had heard about these machines. They were the clockwork soldiers, the new apparent device in home protection against thieves, and was also used as a soldier for the city watch.

Fern ducked and side stepped for a few more swings from the clockwork beast while trying to land a few hits of his own. The machine spun its arms like a tornado, grazing Ferns chest and knocking away his weapon.

Fern was low unarmed against this abomination of tech. Or was he?

Fern shifted (the teleporting power) a few feet behind the clockwork soldier and pulled out a gun. Running his fingers over the sleek little weapon, his finger pulled the trigger.

The machine soldiers two right arms blew off, pieces scattered everywhere and leaking a grease of some sort. The machines lights flickered for a moment, but only for a moment.

Fern fired another round into its torso, creating an opening. He fired one more bullet inside it, frying its circuits from the inside. The heavy metal soldier collided with the ground, light snuffed out.

Under his mask, Fern sighed in relief. He went over to his sabre and picked it up.

A hand unconsciously rubbed at the cut on his chest. Though there was a tiny amount of blood, Fern should've ignored it, but it did sting.

Fern was oblivious to the incoming threat. All of a sudden, he was thrown to the side like a ragdoll, body crashing through a bookcase. He slumped down in pain, clutching his now bruised left arm. In a state of shock, he turned to look at the perpetrator, but that shock turned to disgust when he caught sight of then. There, with two clockwork soldiers by her side, stood Delilah Copperspoon in the flesh.

The soldiers strode towards me, their metallic feet making large stomps as they did so. One kicked Fern onto his back and placed its arms on his, hanif trying to hold him down. The other put a blade on his throat, ready to kill him at a moments notice.

This was it. Fern had failed. He had failed Emily. He had failed Corvo. He couldn't kill Abele and he couldn't even kill Delilah though she was right next to him.

Delilah looked down on Fern with slight curiosity, her hand reaching to touch his mask. Fern would have stopped her if he could, but the swords pressed against him didn't help his cause, so he had no choice but to let it happen.

Her fingers danced on the metal material of his mask, and rubbed at where his cheek would be. Delilah smirked, and pulled away.

This was it. It was the end of the line. Fern closed his eyes and waited for deaths cold embrace. Who knows, maybe he might get to see his father in the afterlife.

Fern waited for the cool steel of the swords to cut and maim him, but they never did.

Instead, Delilah was drawing symbols on the ground in front of him with his own blood.

"What are you doing Delilah?" Fern asked weakly.

"Sweetheart, it would be a waste to kill you, so instead I will toy with you. As for what I'm doing, you'll find that out soon enough~"

Fern gave her a confused look but thought nothing of it.

Suddenly, the markings on the ground glowed black and began to merge together, creating a black vortex.

"I have been studying recently about the magic in Dunwall. How the witches can use this magic, and how those who are marked by the outsider can use it. After a while of research I found out that magic also has the ability to travel to new lands and new worlds. I have taken a interest to a particular world and I think you are going to love it there."

She was now giggling to herself. Ferns eyes widened in realization.

"Anywho, it has been a fun few weeks, Fern, but just know you aren't going to be the only one who meets the same fate."

And with those empty words, the machine soldiers tossed Fern inside.