Brador locked eyes with the girl as the older woman, the professor, came rushing towards her. "Ruby, go call the bullhead with my scroll." The professor commands while giving the girl in the red, Ruby her scroll. "Excuse me sir. May I ask what you're doing in the Emerald Forest?" The blonde professor asks, though through her tone of voice, it was definitely not an option to not answer her.
Whether than decide to lie to her, which he gathered would not be a wise decision, he told her undead told her the truth. "I'm not sure. I have only been here for a few moments," he replies.
"I beg your pardon? You do not know why you are here?" The professor comments.
"Indeed, you are correct." Brador says, looking at the younger crowd behind her, the students no doubt.
"That is quite troubling. May I ask your name?" The professor was clearly eyeing him, still not sure if he was dangerous or not.
"You may call me Brador. May I ask of you your name?" Brador asks as his eyes drop to his blade.
"My name is Glynda Goodwitch. I am a professor at Beacon Academy." The professor replies.
"Beacon Acad-?" Brador was cut off short before he could finish, as the girl in read comes back.
"Professor Goodwitch, the bullhead is on it's way." Ruby says as she hands Glynda her scroll back.
"Excellent job Ruby. Now sir, have you sustained any injuries?" Glynda asks, tucking her scroll into her pocket.
"No. However I am very weak. May I attempt to get up without being struck down?" Brador locks eyes with Glynda as she ponders over the question.
"You may, though don't think I haven't noticed your sword. May you perhaps give it to me once you've gotten your barrings? As a sign of trust, I'm sure you understand." Glynda finishes, giving her demands.
"As you wish." Brador tucks his knees into his chest, pushing the heels of his feet into the ground. With some awkward movements, he manages to kneel against the tree he was leaning against. With what strength he could muster, he manages to stand up on his feet, albeit without much structure. "Now it is time for you to trust me. Please, if you would, come take the blade from me. I do not believe I'm quite ready for walking yet." Brador asks. The professor says nothing, but walks over by the undead's side and picks up his blade, her eyes never leaving his. Just as she takes the greatsword, an audible buzzing is heard by all. The bullhead.
"Good. I believe the bullhead has arrived. Brador, you're going to have to come with us. Do you require assistance in walking?" Glynda asks.
"I can try, should it make your job easier." The moment Brador takes a step, his knee buckles, causing a wince to escape his mouth. "It appears not." Brador says, chuckling to only himself.
"That is fine. Yang, go and help up Brador. Sir, if you do anything to harm my students, you will be in an even worse condition." Glynda says with a stern voice.
"You won't have to worry about that, madam." Brador says as he notices the tallest of the female students walks towards him, in quite revealing clothing.
"Don't try anything, buddy." The blonde replies, as she wraps his arm around her neck.
The group walks in silence, aside from Brador, who continues to make a few random winces and breaths at the labored stroll. As they make it to the clearing, Brador's eyes widen. "What in the abyss is that..."
"That is the bullhead. Are you not familiar?" The professor turns around, a quizzical look on her face.
"Definitely not." Brador replies, awe in his eyes and voice.
"They are a flying ship of sorts, able to take passengers to and from places through the air." Glynda explains.
"By the gods. Man has learned how to fly?" Brador asks, his eyes never leaving the ship.
"It would appear so." Glynda says, not convinced.
"Incredible." Is all Brador says as he is ushered on to the bullhead. He is shoved on to the seat in the middle, the professor taking the seat in front of him, and all the students are instructed to sit away from him.
"I'm sure you understand sir, but may I see your wrists?" Glynda asks.
"Whatever for?" Brador questions as he puts his hands out. As soon as the words escape his mouth, he figures out why. Thick iron shackles are placed upon his wrists.
"Is this at all necessary? You've already stripped me of my weapon, and my condition is not one of fighting." Brador asks bitterly.
"Just a precaution." Glynda replies. The rest of the flight was quiet, of course from the engine of the bullhead. The restrained undead felt the eyes of the students upon him every so often, though it was to be expected. Brador doubted this happened often. He couldn't think about this very hard though, the fact that he was flying was astonishing him. He clearly wasn't in Lothric, no this must be some neighboring land with a higher advancement. Mirrah, he knew, had been making advancements in the use of different fuel sources. Drangleic, before it fell, had been using souls to fuel golems. Lindelt was said to be using miracles to make men fly, but for a very short moment, and it often wasn't as effective as just walking. But whatever kingdom he happened to be in, it was much higher up on the technology totem.
Brador had fallen asleep. He hadn't expected he'd been so tired. He supposed dying took a toll on the body, especially without a bonfire to help nurture the wounds. However, he wasn't asleep for long, as he was startled awake by the professor. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but you must get off the bullhead. You're going to have a talk with our Headmaster. Students, go to your dorms, classes are canceled for today. I'm sorry our field trip was cut so short." Glynda says as she steps off the bullhead. Brador stands successfully, and even takes a few stops until he's off the bullhead, though very gingerly.
"I see your condition has improved. Very well, follow me to the Headmaster's office." Glynda commands, turning her back and gesturing to follow her. Thankfully, she takes slow and methodical steps so that Brador make keep pace with her.
As they walk through the Academy, Brador can't help but be impressed. The architecture was much like that of any castle, though with much more color and a livelier feel. Many students they passed were rightfully confused at the man in binds, walking as fast as any shambling hollow. The walk was quiet between the two, thought only because of the respect the blonde commanded. They twisted down this hall and another, so much so Brador would assuredly be lost should he be on this venture by himself. "Brador?" Glynda says, an angry lilt in her voice after had saying his name more than a few times.
"Yes? I am sorry, madam, I was absorbed in thought." Brador concedes.
Glynda merely sighs. "We've arrived. Please, step into the elevator." Brador says nothing, but follows the professors instructions. Glynda follows suit, and they both stand by each other inside the somewhat cramped space. Upon such close proximity, Brador can realize something. Glynda appears to be a great bit taller than him. Brador had always been on the shorter spectrum, though he wasn't short himself. He'd consider himself maybe an inch shorter than the average Lothric Knight, but Glynda would beat them all. Perhaps it was her unusual footwear. Those type of shoes were uncommon, to say the least, even the highest of royalty hardly wore them. Brador mused for a bit and Glynda hit the button, perhaps she was a high member of this society.
This elevator was taking quite a long while. Brador had been leaning against the back wall for a significant amount of time while Glynda looked quite annoyed. Finally the last ding was heard and the doors slide open. Brador pushed himself off the back and followed Glynda, who had already walked out. Ozpin was standing up and staring out the window, no doubt looking down at the courtyard at the busy students. "Ozpin?"
"Yes Glynda?" An audible slurping sound is heard as the Headmasters hand is lifted to his mouth.
"It appears we have a special case on our hands." Glynda announces, slightly looking down and back at Brador.
"Oh? Is that so?" Brador looked over the man. Tall, thin, gray hair. No doubt this man has many stories to tell. The man had a certain air about him. He voice was cool but gave of the feeling of authority.
"Indeed it is. While the students and I were out on our scheduled field trip, we came across a peculiar sight." Glynda explains.
"And I'd assume that sight is standing beside you?" Ozpin questions.
"In fact he is. How did you know?" Glynda asks.
"I saw someone standing next to you in the reflection of the glass." Ozpin says, amused. When the older man turns around, his eyes squint in confusion.
"And what is so special about our guest? Does he wish to enroll?" Ozpin wonders.
"No, in fact he can't seem to remember why he was even in the Emerald Forest." Glynda explains.
"Curious indeed. Excuse me sir, would you mind stating your name?" Ozpin asks the stranger.
"Of course, my name is Brador." Brador's rougher sounding voice must have thrown off Ozpin's expectations. The boy before him already had a stubble beard, and most students shaved theirs. In fact he couldn't think of any male students here who had any sort of facial hair. His hair was short, almost shaved bald. He wasn't the typical student Huntsman.
"And your last name?" Ozpin pushes on.
"Brador -" The undead stops. Could he not remember his last name? It was so obviously on the tip of his tongue, yet it was if he hadn't heard his last name ever. He had heard of undead slowly losing a sense of self, forgetting their past, their family, their names even. He of course knew his first name, he couldn't ever forget that. But as for last name, he was clueless. He remembered his family, his old home, everything one should, however his last name was foreign to him. "I can't remember." Brador admits.
"Is that so? Well Brador, may I ask you a few questions? Glynda, you may leave." Ozpin walks forward and sits down at his desk chair, setting down his mug. With one gesture, Brador did the same, sitting across from the Headmaster. "This will only be a few questions, and then I will decide what to do with you." Ozpin says while sitting back, hands folded on his desk.
"Of course, do as you must." Brador replies.
Ozpin nods. "Do you know where you are?"
"Beacon Academy."
"Correct. Where are you from?" Ozpin asks.
"Lothric." Brador says with confidence.
"Interesting indeed. Are you aware that Lothric doesn't exist?" Ozpin takes his mug and drinks from it after his statement.
"I'm sorry?"
"Lothric. This kingdom you describe. It doesn't exist. This is the land of Remnant. There is Vacuo, Mistral, Atlas, and Vale, the kingdom we are currently in. Lothric does not exist, nor has it ever I'm afraid. You'd do well to not lie to me, Mr. Brador." Ozpin says, though his tone doesn't suggest anger, or that he thinks Brador is lying to him.
"This is not in jest, Headmaster." Ozpin watches as Brador's fists ball up on his desk.
"That is quite the interesting mark you have on your left hand. What might that mean? Is there a meaning?" Ozpin asks, drinking from his mug again.
"Are you not familiar? Is this land not cursed by the undead?" Brador sits up in his chair, hands now firmly placed where fists once were.
"The Undead? No, I don't believe I am familiar. Would you care to enlighten me?" Ozpin does nothing but readjust his seating in his chair.
Brador merely stares in awe at his lack of knowledge. Such a man should surely know of the undead blight. "From... from what I understand the world consisted of nothing but Arch Trees, giant crags, and Immortal Dragons. That is, of course, once the Flame was discovered. Three powerful souls erupted from the flame, Gwyn, Nito, and the Witch of Izalith. They became the first lords to ever rule over the land. However a fourth found another soul. The Dark Soul. This was the Furtive Pygmy, who formed man. Such as the natural order of things, the flames began to fade. However, should the fire fade, the Gods would lose all their power, and man would take over. Gwyn, who wanted his children to stay in power, sacrificed himself to the Flame to keep it lit. The natural order was upset, and so came about the Undead, immortal beings cursed with the darksign."
"Immortality? That sounds more like a blessing." Ozpin asks.
"Some thought so as well. The majority did not. The Undead were seen as abominations, often herding them into asylums to keep them their for eternity, often they would go hollow." Brador explains.
"Hollow?"
"To go hollow means you've lost purpose in your endless life. The darksign keeps you alive forever, but death after death takes a toll on the mind. When someone goes hollow, they often become a husk of what they once were. Some undead set a task for themselves. However when that task is completed, they often to hollow as they see it as their being nothing left to live for."
"So that there on your hand is the darksign?" Ozpin asks.
"Indeed. It is." Brador says in a somber mood.
"Have you died?" Ozpin leans forward, his hands now curled on each other in front of his face.
"Twice now. The first death often takes the longest to come back from. Once you do, the darksign brands itself upon your skin. My second death... well somehow brought me here." Brador explains.
"I see. Are you okay, then? Dying may take a toll on the mind, but I'd imagine just as much on the body. I saw the way you were standing. You've been weakened, no?" Ozpin inquires.
"My condition is worse for wear." Brador says.
"You will go to the infirmary then. Our excellent doctors will look you over your condition, and I will visit with you afterwards. I trust you can find it yourself?" Ozpin asks.
"I'm sure I'll find my way. I thank you for your kindness. If I may ask... what do you plan on doing with me?" The undead shuffles in his spot as the words exit his lips.
"All in due time. We'll speak once the doctors have finished your exam." Ozpin gets up from his seat and walks back towards the window. Brador takes this as his queue to leave. The warrior walks back to the elevator, staring at the buttons for a good while. "The very bottom button, Mr. Brador." Ozpin exclaims. Without another word, the undead presses the button and the doors slide shut, leaving the image of a tall, thin, Gray haired man in his eyes.
Brador probably should have asked for directions. Every turn seemed to take him in the wrong direction, even though he was following the signs. He had passed the same students a few times, and each time, it earned him an odd look. It became apparent to Brador that he was not welcomed here. His attire stood out significantly, with his heavy plate armor, albeit melted, looked quite different from everyone else's free spirited look. No matter, he was determined to find this infirmary, and nothing would stop him. After all, why betray the trust of the one person who may believe you.
A few minutes later he was staring at a door with the word "Infirmary" plastered on the door. With a slight push he entered the room. This was much cleaner, and whiter, than any doctor's workplace he had been too. It was not uncommon for the doctor to make you worse, as all the diseases seamed to linger in their offices. However this place seemed to be extraordinarily clean. "Hello! You must be Brador! We were contacted by Headmaster Ozpin to look after you!" The woman, who Brador assumed to be the doctor's assistant, seemed all to cheery.
"I am." The undead replied.
"Perfect. If you'll go over by that bed and strip off your armor, we can get all set with your examination." The nurse gave a heartfelt smile, which Brador returned. It had been a while sense he smiled, and it was odd to him that a doctor, of all people, could bring it out of him. Heeding her instructions, he walked over to the bed she pointed out, with a specially provided armor rack. Strap after strap, buckle after buckle, he managed to get his armor off. He placed it on the provided rack, and he was finally able to inspect it.
"Definitely melted." Brador says to himself, a small frown on his lips. Even after it all happened, Brador was still fond of all he did as a squire. True he was never formally a knight, as he was struck down before that could ever officially become one, he still treasured those moments. Now to see his armor melted and twisted, almost resembling that of a rib cage, brought down his mood.
"It seems you're all ready! We'll get started right away then. Please, sit on the examination table." The same nurse asked. "My name is Elsana, it is nice to meet you Brador." The nurse does nothing at the lack of a reply, but does everything expected from a physical exam. She check his head and neck, nails hair and limb strength. "All seems good so far. Would you mind taking your shirt off for the rest of the physical?" Brador looks at her odd but complies, removing his garb.
"Oh my." Elsana says.
"Is there something wrong?" Brador looks down to his chest when he realizes what she was so shocked at. The scars. Most were arrow wounds, but the prominent wound through the heart and sword the back stood out. Those particularly would the ugliest to look at. The knotted, discolored healed skin was not the most pleasant thing to look at. And from what he remembers, he should have a large one across his face from Captain Reyes. "Oh... I see. Not the most pleasant thing to look at, is it?" Brador asks.
"No. no! I think they look fine. In fact, I love a man who can really fight." Nurse Elsana gives him a wink, and places a stethoscope to his heart and lungs. The comment seems to be lost on Brador, and he only stares at the top of her head as she listens to his organs. "All seems to be in check. I just need to draw some blood and you'll be set to go." As the nurse leaves, Ozpin and Glynda both walk in.
"Does all go well?" Ozpin's eyes drift to Brador's scarred chest for but a brief moment, but the undead understands.
"From what I can tell." Before they can finish, Elsana comes back with a needle in handle. As she removes the tip cover, she asks for his left arm. As he presents it to her, she stabs him right in his vein. Once she removes a quick vial of blood, she quickly prances off to get it tested.
"I'm glad to see you in health. As for your living arrangements, there is a small cabin out in the woods that I believe would fit you perfectly. It was once an outpost during a war that was used to stockpile weapons. It has sense fallen into disrepair, so for.. I'd say two days, you will stay at beacon while we renovate that old cabin for living purposes." Ozpin explains.
"But sir, do you think it's wise to let some stranger live among us? He could poss a threat to every student in this school." Glynda retaliates.
"Oh hush Glynda. I had a chance to speak to Brador alone, and I believe him to be of no perceivable threat to any of us. And I believe that Mr. Brador understands that should he attempt anything against my students or our faculty that he is standing is a school full of heavily armed and trained students. Isn't that right, Mr. Brador?" Ozpin asks.
"Indeed it is. I cannot thank you enough for this hospitality." Brador bows his head slightly to show his respect.
"I wouldn't thank me so soon. You won't be staying by yourself in any of our dorms, as they are all taken up. I've selected Team RWBY as your dorm mates. They have already been told of this, and are to be expecting you. Mrs. Goodwitch will you please escort Brador to RWBY's dorm? I will stay here to pick up all of Brador's medical reports." Ozpin asks, though his tone sounded as though she didn't really have an option.
"Of course. Follow me." Glynda says, annoyed.
"Here we are." Glynda exclaims as knocks on the door. Brador watches as she shifts her weight to her right leg, crossing her arms. A few moments go by before the door opens up to a short girl with black hair and red tips answers the door. Her eyes drift to Brador for a second, but she ultimately settles on Glynda. Brador notices three girls in the back, and he's sure he recognized them from the forest. They all seemed to be in their nightly outfit.
"So uh.. are you coming in or what?" Brador was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of the girls voice. She was staring at his face expectantly, and all he did was nod. Before he enters he turns around to Glynda.
"Ms. Goodwitch, it's been a pleasure to meet you." He gives a proper bowl, placing his hands on his thighs, and leaning forward.
"It's been... interesting for me, Brador. Sleep well tonight. You too, Ruby." Glynda then leaves the teens to their devices. Brador turns around to see Ruby giving him an awkward smile.
"Well, c'mon in. You can meet the team." Ruby says as she walks into the dorm room. Brador follows suit, and when they both enter the room, he notices three pairs of eyes staring back at him. "This is the team. Team RWBY. Over there is Weiss, that's Blake, and over there is my sister Yang. And I'm Ruby, obviously." Weiss, Blake, and Yang all give different amount of enthusiasm as he is introduced.
"Hello you three. My name is Brador. I am truly sorry that I am invading your privacy, believe me that this was not my idea. Think of this as only a temporary housing. I should be out of your hair by two days at the maximum. If I may ask, where might the lavatory be located?" The girls seem to be a bit shocked at his vernacular, and the three, excluding Ruby, all point to the door that is located on the right wall of the room. "Thank you kindly." Brador walks towards the door and grabs the knob. With a quick turn he swings the door into the black bathroom. "Excuse me, would any of you happen to have a candle of sorts? It is very dark."
"Uh. The light switch should be on the right wall as soon as you walk in. Next to the door." Ruby says. Brador looks at the wall and sees a switch. He flips the switch and the lights turn on.
"Incredible. Thank you very much." Brador answers before shutting the door.
Hey guys! Sloth here. So this chapter was very dialogue filled without any action. If that makes you a little peeved, I understand. I promise the action will pick up soon enough, but I got a character to establish and whatnot. If you're wondering about what Brador's gear actually is, I answer it in one of the review responses, so check it out there. As for the choice of Brador staying with team RWBY, I understand its very outplayed and cliche. I didn't really enjoy writing it, so if it seems rushed that's why. I'm really only using it as a means to get them to know each other. Lastly I just want to say thank you for all who followed, favorited and reviewed! You guys keep me going. I'm going to make a habit of replying to all reviews, and I'll do so at the end of every chapter. Think of it as a way for me to connect with you guys.
That One Mexican Guy: Well I'm glad to know you like it! :D
Zapper3000380: Thank you for your review! I listened to you and got rid of those giant text walls. As for your question, no I do not think I'll be keeping the parry mechanic in this story, I was just driving home the fact that Brador didn't really care if he died. That hail-Mary Parry, right? Also, don't think of this as stat based. I'm not sure if you were, but that's what I got out of it. Thanks again for your review!
THE CHAMP: His gear is the Firelink Set (Soul of Cinder) minus the helmet and missing one gauntlet (his left). His sword is the Onyx Blade from the DLC.