A dark aura made its way through the town that was Oak, causing the bustling streets to part as fear overcame them as the menacing aura grew in size. Mana like black tongues of fire rose into the air, lashing out at the crowd making them jump and streak as a figure could be seen at the source, a frightening figure whom many would dismiss if not for the frightening magical energy being released from them. Just who was this figure? Why an old woman who stood no taller than four foot ten. While she had a short stature she walked with a commanding finger, eyes creased into a frown, eyes closed shut, lips forming a single straight line, the wrinkles on her face pressed as a form of scowl was resonating from her features. With each footstep, her waraji covered feet made no sound at all. Her kimono wrapped loosely around her body didn't make a single flutter nor the sash around her shoulder and waist. The pearls from her earrings or the from the needle that held her white hair in a twin bun made not a jingle as she walked.
To enhance her frightening appearance, a strange creature loomed over her right shoulder. This creature was small only two foot and floated in the air with no legs at all. It's body cloaked by a black robe, a skull-like mask covering its mask, the skull that was completely real. Floating between the white hollowed eye sockets was a single red orb, the creatures eye. The little beast looked like a miniature grim reaper as if it was the child of a death god. The little beast had its own unpleasant aura, an air of supernatural energy clung to its body releasing a chill into the air, the wind itself became frosted as the temperature dropped as the creature passed. Civilians shivered and others screamed in fright at the creature, many attempting to hide their child for they knew what it was.
The creature was called a Duskull, usually, a nocturnal beast that hid in thick forests, rarely being seen, making it listed as a rare creature. Duskulls most frightening behaviour is that it not only enjoyed the crying of children, but once it chose a target it would haunt them until they died.
While the creature was frightening, if only they knew the truth of the old woman they would be even more so of her. For she was a Dark Mage and member of Grimoire Heart, Yumi, who went by the name Carnage, the oldest member of the Guild. She did not consider herself a Mage, not she called herself a Witch in service of her almost Chaos God, Khorne, a Chaos God of Anger, Violence and Hate. She had slaughtered hundreds in the name of her God leaving a trail of bloodshed behind her with the seventy-five years she had lived on this planet. She had a fiery temper which she kept hidden deep in her psyche, but when unleashed prayers should be said for the soul of the one who earned her ire. It was wildly known in the Guild she had a habit of killing her opponents and taking their skulls claiming it for her throne, a throne she kept aboard the Ark, a throne made out of hundreds of skulls, her victims.
Yumi moved from the crowd stepping into a new pub that had just not long opened. She had heard rumours about the stirring of the pub and wished to see it herself, and as usual, her familiar Venom was following behind. She glided across the streets as she made her way inside forcing the doors open with a single wrinkled hand. The old woman's eyes began to open, revealing within those crimson orbs someone who had passed the test of time and witnessed countless bloodshed. The old woman glided through the bar towards the counter intent to order herself a drink, to see just how the place faired. It had been some time since she had a decent drink. The last time some fool had broken the bottle she ordered and trashed her strawberry sundae. She had repaid in kind tearing his voice box out and destroying his body.
Yumi planted herself down on a stool and spoke in a commanding voice, her magical aura has sealed itself the moment she entered, leaving her the appearance of a simple old woman. An old lady with a unique companion. Yumi would call tot he bartender, "Your strongest whisky, glass and leave the bottle!" Barked out the old woman as she placed a wad of jewels on the counter. She needed a stiff drink, while she also wanted something sweet she could wait. It was a well-known accord in Grimoire Heart that the old woman had quite the sweet tooth.