Winter wasn’t sure what she had been expecting from a bandit camp.
As the airship touched down a few hundred yards from the edges of what she could only assume to be the Branwen tribe, she found herself wondering about the specifics of how such a group operated.
When she’d been told that this “tribe” were a group of bandits that pillaged towns on the frontier for a living, she had assumed that they would be highly mobile, setting up in tents for a single night before moving onto the next location. Perhaps they would stay in one area while they scoped out potential targets. A group that never stuck in one place for long would be harder to track down for the authorities, harder to anticipate for their next victims. That was the modus operandi that made the most sense to her.
But the sight before her… didn’t quite fit that.
As they had flown overhead they had seen tents, yes, but they weren’t typical tents that were designed for ease of movement. These tents were large, with leather walls instead of the thin fabric the commercial ones used. Instead of thin metal rods supporting them, these used giant bones. Or perhaps it was wood carved to look like bones? She didn’t know what sort of animal would produce them after all. Only a grimm could have bones of that size, and they would dissipate along with the rest of the creature once it was slain.
Of course, the odd tents would be less of a hindrance to a nomadic lifestyle than the giant walls. The walls weren’t solid, far from it, really, with how many gaps there were, but they were still a sight to behold given that they were made out of giant tree trunks. Sharpened to a point on top and dug deep into the ground at odd angles, the bandits had somehow collected what must be more than a hundred logs that were three… maybe even four times her height. The largest gaps between them were haphazardly covered with large metal sheets that they had gotten from who knows where…
Though as she disembarked from the airship and started walking closer, she found that the metal was suspiciously similar to the material used in the airship she’d just left. They’d either found a downed one that was attacked by a nevermore, or they’d downed one themselves…
Either way, the camp she saw before her was in no way something that befitted the nomadic lifestyle she had suspected. This was the work of weeks, perhaps even months of labor depending on how many bandits laid within the walls.
So they liked to stay in one spot for a good while, and yet nothing had been done to stop them. Was this yet another example of Leonardo’s treachery? Or perhaps, being that this is where Qrow and Raven originated from, Ozpin had seen fit to leave the criminals alone until they became an even greater nuisance. He had to have known more than most about this group after all…
She supposed the truth of the matter would be revealed eventually.
“Specialists.” Her voice was stern and commanding. “I will be approaching the target alone. You are to remain here and be prepared for combat and retreat if things go south.”
“Ma’am, yes Ma’am!” They responded with a salute before fanning out around the airship.
They probably weren’t happy with those orders, allowing her to wade into unknown territory on her own like this, but orders were orders. They’d complain to each other once she was out of earshot, but they’d not compromise a mission they knew scant details of.
But what was she to do? All of this secret war business had become a game of whispers. Ozpin had the full truth and told those he trusted some portion of it. Those people knew a partial truth and told those they trusted with a portion of what they knew. Winter knew that she was a tertiary source of information, and if she were being honest with herself, she feared that telling them what little she could of the situation would only lead to questions that she couldn’t answer. A commander couldn’t afford to appear incompetent.
So she walked into the belly of the beast alone. Or perhaps it was more fitting to say that she was about to kick the hornet’s nest? She could see the bandits swarming, obviously alarmed by the fact that an airship with Atlas markings had just landed outside.
A group of five of them met her at the gate, weapons at the ready. None of them were impressive, in regards to the weapons and the bandits. Simple revolvers and shotguns with knives crudely attached in some hands, large machetes in others, but nothing that could compare with a mecha-shift weapon. Of course, that didn’t mean that they were useless or something she should dismiss, but it did mean that there would be no surprises. Not from this group, anyway. Other than their questionable state of dress, that is. Some wore boots that obviously came from different pairs, if not by the color then by the fact that one was ankle length and the other went to the knee. Some wore a single leather glove, or ripped, bloody jackets, or a single pauldron for protection.
Being that they were bandits, she wasn’t sure if this welcoming party was meant to be their best, or if this is simply what the group had decided to throw at her in a distraction as the others prepared.
“Stop right there! I don’t know who you think you are, but you’ve got some balls on ya if you think you can just waltz up here on your lonesome!” A man shouted from the front of the pack. He held a revolver with a knife strapped to it, his blonde hair in a mullet.
Winter stopped, her hand on the hilt of her sword. “I am seeking an audience with Raven Branwen.” She calmly informed them.
That caused a stir.
“She wants to talk to the boss?”
“How does she know the boss’ name?”
“The boss will be pissed if we fuck this up!”
A voice cut through the others though.
“Quiet!”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Winter watched as a young woman walked out from the gate, passing by the welcoming committee to face her head on. Short brown hair, tan skin, and a cocky smirk on her face. There was no weapon at her side though, so why would she be so confident? A combat oriented semblance perhaps?
“Why do you want an audience with the boss, Schnee?”
Winter ignored the way that the girl all but spat her name, as well as the gasps from her compatriots. Had they really not recognized her? Surprising, but she supposed that people who lived like this had little reason to know what the Schnee family looked like.
“I’m afraid that this is a private matter that needs to be discussed with her directly.”
“And I’m supposed to just take your word on that? Let you just waltz on into our camp and meet with the boss like this?” The girl sarcastically remarked,
“Was I meant to call her secretary beforehand?” Winter sniped back. Something about this girl reminded her of Qrow in all the wrong ways. Were her problems with the man because of his background? Was Raven just going to be a female Qrow she actually needed to ingratiate herself to?
The girl just smirked at her.
“I like your attitude. Follow me then.” She turned back towards the gate, walking into the camp. “Just one thing to keep in mind, Schnee. The tribe values strength, so if you’re weak? Well…”
The girl didn’t finish her thought.
Hadn’t she gotten enough ominous warnings from dealing with Second Thoughts?
Winter resigned herself to the idea that this was going to end poorly as she followed behind, isolating herself within a camp of criminals.
----------------------------------------
A group of special operatives peered around the corner, keeping an eye on their target at all times.
“Ruby, your elbow is digging into my side!” Weiss hissed.
“Shhh! Focus on the mission!” Nora reprimanded her.
“Is this really necessary?” Blake asked.
“Oh so this is when investigating things personally suddenly doesn’t matter…” Second mocked.
“What are you even talking about?” Yang turned the semblance, confused.
“I’m talking about… huh… I guess she’s actually been pretty well behaved in this timeline, hasn’t she?” The bluest among them looked at Blake as if he was suddenly seeing her in a new light.
“Why are you here at all, Second?!” Ruby demanded answers. “Shouldn’t you be with Jaune? Giving him moral support or something? He’s all alone out there!”
“You know, if this is meant to be a secret spying mission or something, you’re doing an awful job on the secret part.” Their target loudly remarked, making Ruby flinch back.
“This might be a crazy idea, but perhaps we should allow Jaune to sort out his family problems on his own?” Ren suggested. “I think it would be quite hard to have an honest conversation about something personal like this if I knew all of you were watching from around the corner. Plus we’re getting some rather concerned looks…”
Indeed, the rest of the student body was giving the group a wide berth as they passed by. In a school full of huntsmen and huntresses, oddities like this weren’t exactly uncommon, but it was still strange to see two full teams of people trying to peer around a corner at once.
“We need to support our team leader!” Pyrrha barked. She seemed just as investigated in the reunion of father and son as Ruby was.
Ren wisely chose to give up on his protests.
That was when the latest bullhead from Vale arrived, and they saw Jaune tense up as the passengers disembarked. Their eyes scanned the group, wondering which one could be their friend’s father.
There were some third year students, some Beacon staff that they vaguely recognized, team CFVY, and-
“Oh.” Blake quietly gasped.
A giant of a man was walking towards them, a firmly neutral expression on his face. Short blonde hair, clear musculature, and a resemblance to their friend made it easy to guess that this was Jaune’s father. Although… he was dressed rather plainly, in just some blue jeans and a black t-shirt, with a sword that looked even more simple than Crocea Mors hanging from his hip. If not for his size, there would be nothing flashy about him that screamed “huntsman!” like everyone else in the field.
Everyone held their breath as he approached, stopping just a few feet in front of Jaune.
“Son.”
Jaune swallowed nervously. “Dad.”
There was a very awkward silence.
“Why don’t you introduce me to your… friends?” Mr. Arc turned to look at them, his eyes narrowed like he wasn’t sure if they were friend or foe. At least until he saw Second, anyway. Upon seeing his son’s rather blue doppelganger, his eyes widened a tad, softening, but that was the only visible reaction.
“R-right! Uh,” Jaune gestured for them to stop their pathetic attempt at hiding.
Ruby must have seen fit to save the boy from his floundering, rushing forward in a flash of rose petals. “Hi there! It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Arc! I’m Ruby Rose, leader of Team RWBY!”
Mr. Arc rose an eyebrow at the team name being the same as hers, but he didn’t say anything.
“This is my partner Weiss-”
“Greetings.” Weiss gave a curtsey.
“My sister Yang-”
“Yo.” Yang gave him an easygoing smirk.
“And her partner Blake!”
Blake did not give a greeting, leaving an awkward pause before Pyrrha decided to take over.
“We’re team JNPR,” she began with a practiced smile for the media. “This is Nora and Ren-”
“Do you want to arm wrestle?!”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
The man took Ren restraining his partner in stride.
“And I’m your son’s partner, Pyrrha Nikos,” the girl added nervously.
Mr. Arc gave her a knowing grin. “His partner, eh?”
Pyrrha’s face erupted into a blush.
“It’s nice to meet you all…” but his gaze didn’t fall on them. “But I’ll admit that I’m most curious about you.”
Second Thoughts stepped to the forefront, a reassuring smile on his blue lips. “Howdy! I’m Second Thoughts, your son’s semblance. It’s nice to meet you, Nicholas.”
Mr. Arc frowned.
“My name isn’t Nicholas. It’s Aurelius.”
The smile on Second’s face vanished.