The legends of Grimm OR the first Beowulf

As Salem walked through the forest, the first thing she smelled was smoke. With a dainty sniff, she once stained breathed in the air, just to be sure. Yes, she definitely smelled smoke, coming not too far from where she was actually.

With a brisk pace, she walked over to find what seemed to have been a battle ground. There was a large dragon corpse, and two men; one with a large hole in his chest and a broken spear and a older laying on a piece of rock, chainmail armor on.

The two men were not surprising, as mankind was easy to kill in small numbers. No, what truly surprised her was the dragon. She thought she and Ozpin had killed the last of them all those years ago when they made a temporary alliance to deal with the more bloodthirsty creatures of magic. She walked over and broke off one of its fangs. She used her black sleeve to wipe it off and stood there for a moment admiring it. She was about to tuck it into her cloak when she heard a raspy gasp. Curious, she walked over to the source of the sound.

It was the old man, with what looked like a shattered sword in his hand. He took in a deep gasp of breath and looked at her with squinted eyes, reaching for his pommel. With a smile, she kicked it away and sat on a rock next to him.

" It seems you're dying." She said simply, raising skin where there should have been an eyebrow. With a glare he said " It looks like it, doesn't it?" He let out a wet cough and tried to sit up but winced in pain. She looked him up and down, then at the dragon. " That was quite foolish of you, to fight a dragon of that size at your age." He looked back at her with a small frown and said " If your going to keep stating the obvious lass, you make a terrible conscious."

She let out a laugh she could feel from her gut and wiped away a tear. " Thank you dead man, i haven't laughed like that in a while. So, you are strong I assume? Or used to be?"

" I am the one who slew Grendel, the monster of the swamp and his mother, the She Wolf. I have slain men and monsters alike, and a overgrown lizard will not be the end of my tale!" With a surge of energy fueled by fury, he tries to sit up again only to wince again and move a red stained hand. " Huh. I truly am dying. Truly, getting old is a pain."

Salem looked down at the man for a moment. " What if I could make you strong again? Make it where age would make you stronger instead of sapping it away." She runs a hand along his slightly greyed arm, skin slightly rough. " I have need of a warrior to fight for me, to stay by my side until I dismiss him. What say you? Will you serve me?"

He looked at her, truly looked at her, taking in her blood red eyes and too pale face, and asked slowly " What will happen to my people? What will happen to the Geats?"

" Well, a warrior king is no king without an army. They will serve you, and by extension me. I ask again now, what say you?" With a heavy sigh the man nodded and held out a blood soaked hand. " Aye, I accept."

Her eyes flashed red for a moment and a small smirk found its way into her pale white face. " Excellent. Tell me your name my warrior, and the pact shall be sealed." She held out a hand with a black flickering flame, that somehow did not emit any heat; it was in fact cold to the touch.

" Beowulf. My name is Beowulf." The warrior king of the Geats grabbed her hand and shook it. The flame seemed to spread from her to him the moment he touched her, and the hell flames leapt at his body. With a gasp he howled in anger " You tricked me!"

She chuckles and stood up, leaving the king to his fate. " No my Beowulf, I am doing exactly what I said I would." The old man roared as his limbs turned a sickening black, like burned wood. His teeth turned to fangs and his eyes ruby red, his skin turning from pale grey to a coat of black fur. When the transformation was complete, the Grimm witch smiled and turned to the other dead man. Grabbing his skull, she cleaned it of anything called flesh and placed the bones upon her new creation. " You shall be my first Alpha Beowulf. Come now Wulf, we must have a talk with the Geats."

Legends speak of the Geats, how they vanished overnight from the face of remnant. No one could figure out; no one that is, save Ozpin. He knew the moment he saw the first beast and its pack lunge from shadows, like that fiend Grendel once had.

Thus, the first Beowulf and his pack was born.