II: You Know My Name
The message Shoat received from dispatch was vague about what he should be looking for, but it did provide a location. Warehouse 8 near the docks. It was at the end of his shift, but he decided to follow the tip anyway. Someone had to.
What was odd about this situation was that the warehouse district was in an area that usually did not get much police traffic. A full-scale gang war could break out there and no one would call the police. It was an open secret that the force had officers who were paid not to patrol. Usually it was one of the larger gangs of Vale who paid. Occasionally, a council member would partake as well. This meant that he would most likely not get any back up if he called for it.
The people who lived around it knew no one would respond to their calls. Why would they bother? They had been abandoned long ago. He debated going. It was late and the risks seemed to outweigh the reward. In the end, Shoat decided he would respond. It was his job, even if he had to do it alone.
As he neared the warehouse in his cruiser, his headlights picked up the back of a large truck. There were no other lights in the area. On the ground near the back wheels were squirming, dark masses. Coming to a complete stop, he engaged his parking brake but left the engine hot. If this was an ambush, he wanted to be able to get into his car and beat a retreat.
Leaving the safety of his bullet resistant cruiser, he crouched to create a smaller profile. Taking a few steps, his boots crunched glass. The masses stopped wiggling and started to make muffled noises. His flashlight illuminated the shadowed blobs to reveal people. Seven shirtless men.
Each one was tied up with a blue strap in a position that they referred to on the force as 'the Flamingo.' Their arms were bound behind their backs and looped around a suspended leg. This made it impossible for the men to make it to their feet. A few of them had tried, but only ended up on their sides rather than their stomach. Rags that looked like the remains of their shirts were stuffed into their mouths. There was an unlocked scroll next to one of the men. Did he send the message to dispatch? Shoat reached to remove the material to find out what was going on.
"Evening." A voice called out, stopping him in mid-reach. "Nice weather, isn't it?" Instead, the Policeman shifted his hand to his waist.
Turning around with one hand on his holster, Shoat's flashlight illuminated red eyes. The Officer recognized him. There stood Qrow Branwen, the Rogue Huntsman. A large sword was held behind his back. His toothy smile and confident posture made Shoat feel like he was the one caught and not the other way around. Luckily, he had nothing to fear.
"Hey there, Qrow." Shoat relaxed and stood upright. In the same motion, he removed his hand from the weapon. "This you're doing?"
"Yup." The man said with a pop. His confession was automatic and light. As if tying up a few men was a normal occurrence for him. It probably was. The Huntsman paused, eyeing Shoat. "Do I know you?"
"Ernie. We met a few years, and about twenty pounds, ago." The policeman responded, patting his stomach. Qrow still looked confused. "I was on the SWORD task force for that wacko who was sending pipe bombs to Council members. You did great work there." The Huntsman nodded but said nothing. "Anyway, what's going on here?"
"Well Earnie, check this out." He moved to the truck and opened the container. With a groan, the metal doors swung open. The inside of the container lit up temporarily blinding the Officer. Once his eyes adjusted, he was greeted with the sight of metal crates and a whole score of seated people. Thankfully, they were all fully clothed. They appeared to be bound together with cable ties.
It was quite the collection of humanity. Most of them wore black suits with navy blue ties, like the men outside the truck. There were also a few men dressed in light orange shirts that showed off their bulk. Standing out from the crowd were two in particular. One was an older man he recognized as a lawyer who hung around the station sometimes. A real shark. He seemed dazed and confused by what was happening. The other was a woman in an odd black uniform. She glared daggers at Qrow.
"It's a bust." The Huntsman declared. "The whole lot of 'em."
"What did they do?"
"Oh man, name it. Robbery, murder, excessive use of body spray..." Qrow took a second to laugh at his own joke. "These… These knuckleheads knocked over a military depot we share with Atlas and then tried to smuggle what they stole out of Vale. If you check those boxes in there and in the warehouse, you should find everything that was taken."
The eyes of the Officer roved the occupants. He felt some pity for the squirming folks. They clearly bit off more than they could chew. "Let's say I believe you." Shoat started. "I will need a warrant to check it out." He trusted that the caped man was on the level. However, if he wanted any of this to hold up in court he had to go by the book. Only a huntsman could get away with this kind of search. Due to Qrow's current rogue status, even this much was legally dubious.
Qrow sighed. "Okay, wait right here." The Huntsman briskly walked to the warehouse and entered. After a few seconds inside, a pained yelp followed by a scream came from inside the warehouse. Then there was silence. Qrow reappeared from behind metal doors, much to Shoat's amusement. "Did you hear that? Sounded like a cry for help to me."
"Yes, I believe that qualifies as 'sufficient probable cause to conduct a search of the immediate area.' At least, that is what I remember from the handbook."
"Great! Now, I need to do something real quick." Qrow turned to the battered men and lone woman in the container. He took a second to straighten his dress shirt and tighten the cape around his shoulders before speaking. "Unless you haven't figured it out yet, this is my response to your attempt at framing me." Qrow drew his mighty sword from behind his back and slammed it into the ground beside a tied-up man, narrowly missing the crook's nose. It sank into the concrete like sand, a third of the way to the hilt. The man's eyes rolled up in his head and he fainted. "Total. Disaster."
A few others on the ground nearby shuffled and wiggled to try and get a better look at their captor. They were angry and frightened. "Now, some of you may be feeling a bit tied in knots about all of this." There were several groans at his pun, but he admirably pushed through. "But, right here and now, I think we are square."
Qrow grabbed his weapon with both hands, and with a single tug, pulled it out of the ground. With a push on the hilt, it folded up into a more compact form, allowing him to clip it to his belt. "If you think otherwise, good for you. You know my name. Come look me up sometime." He deliberately made eye contact with the woman in black. "I am more than happy to give a repeat demonstration." He then turned his back to the assembly and began to walk away.
Shoat followed a few paces behind.
"Where are you off to?"
"Oh, you know. To do huntsman stuff. Slaying monsters, rescuing villages, and drinking myself under a table. Usually in that order. Sometimes not." His hand ghosted over a silver flask strapped to his hip, but he pulled back. The length of his stride increased. "I need to get back on the road. This little detour has distracted me long enough."
Shoat had other ideas. "Technically speaking, I am supposed to stop you."
"Yeah?" Qrow did not stop.
"Yes. You have been declared rogue. We have orders to stop you by any means necessary. Even with deadly force." They had to. Huntsmen who had turned on society were a risk to everyone's safety.
Qrow stopped at that. Instead of turning to face the Officer, he looked up at the night sky. The moonlight reflected brightly off his holstered sword. Shoat sensed that he needed to be careful with his next words. "Of course, I am not going to do that."
"What are you going to do?"
"I saw the video of the depot robbery. It was obviously not you. Based on that speech you gave back there, you think it was those people." Qrow hummed in agreement. That was a good sign. "I am going to ask that you voluntarily come in with me as a material witness. Give a statement down at the station."
The Huntsman said nothing as he continued to stare at the stars. Shoat waited him out. After a few more seconds of silence, Qrow turned to him.
"Sorry, but I have places to be." With a quick about-face, Qrow began to walk away again. Shoat did not follow. He thought of pulling his gun but decided against it. It would not do any good.
"It's up to you on how you want to report this." Branwen called back. "Personally, I would say you got here after I was already gone. It will save you a few headaches." He made a turn down a side street and was gone.
〇-〇-〇
Lily Fields sat back in her orthopedic chair and stretched her arms as far as they would go into the air. A satisfying snap, crackle, and pop filled the room. With a sigh, she decided she needed a coffee from the break room. Reaching over for her cane, she rose from her desk and hobbled her to caffeinated bliss.
Inputting her order into the machine, a dark liquid dripped into her commemorative Kat Stevens mug. The smell of roasted beans brought back some energy to her tired body. The Lodge was empty. The only reason Lily was there was because it always needed to be staffed in case of emergency. She drew the short straw for the next two weeks.
The good news was that she could dress comfortably outside official hours. Her hair was also free of its usual restraints, allowing bleached hair to fall to her shoulders. The baggy shirt and leggings she wore were preferable to the long dress skirts she normally wore to obscure her injury.
She frowned down at the bum appendage. From the right angle, her knee looked concave. The muscle that had been torn out gave her a permanent bow leg. Sometimes, she wished she had just lost the blasted thing so she could get a mech replacement. Even a wooden peg leg would have been better.
Instead, she was stuck using a black cane with red flame decals that wrapped around its shaft from the collar to the ferrule. Her six-year-old claimed it let her move faster. A dubious claim.
Everyone knew blue flames were better.
She sipped the brew, forgoing sugar and cream. Before she could drain it, her vulpine ears twitched at the sound of the front entrance opening. As the only occupant of the office, she needed to meet whoever it was. Setting down the mug, she set out to find the guest.
To save power at night, the overhead lights were out. Darkness filled the lobby, not that it made a difference to Lily. Her heritage allowed her to see in the dark. "Hello?" she called. The lack of response gave her concern enough to press the button on her cane. With a twirl and click, it mech-shifted into its saber form.
Although she could not run, Lily was still capable of dealing with any chaff who thought breaking into a huntsman lodge was a good idea. It seemed unlikely, but then again, someone robbed a military depot earlier in the week. All bets were off.
She began a parameter sweep of the building, starting with the lobby's southwest corner. Inching her way down the corridor that led back to her office, she opened doors one by one, always keeping her sword ready for a counterattack. On the fourth door she opened—the men's room—she heard shuffling coming from her office.
With a shimmy, she moved towards the half-closed door. A shadow raced across the floor. Taking two quick gulps of air and dispelling them to slow her heart, she reached out. With a quick strike, the door swung inwards to reveal a man in her custom, ergonomic chair plugging away at her terminal.
"Hey Lily." said the Intruder. "You're up late."
"Qrow…" she growled.
"Love the new look. Those skirts you used to wear were doing you no favors." Replied the soon-to-be dead man. He took a second glance at her cane sword before returning to the terminal. "You expecting someone else?"
"Out of my chair." The Faunus demanded. "Now."
"Sure." Standing up, he backed away, making a show with his hands in reverence. "I couldn't get it to work anyways. You don't pick easy passwords."
Shifting Soar Striker back into its cane form, she took her rightful place. She sat in her seat but found a new annoyance. The ripe road stench of a working huntsman clung to the leather. "Of course not. They make us use a one-time-pass for these systems." Taking out her scroll, she sent in a request and received a new twelve-digit password. Entering it into the console brought up a picture of her and her daughter.
Qrow whistled. "She's getting tall! What are you feeding her? I need to get my youngest niece some of that or she will be a shrimp forever."
"She comes by it naturally." Lily gushed. She knew Qrow was trying to distract her from her anger at him. And it worked. "Strawberry is so much bigger than I was at her age. She will easily be six-foot-something."
He took a seat on the other side of her desk. "How's work treating you?" Another distraction by the master of misdirection.
"You know." She sighed. "It has its ups and downs."
It had been over a year since her accident and she was still settling into being an official desk jockey. It was a plum, if not glamorous, job of handling logistics for official huntsmen jobs across Vale. They gave her the fancy sounding title of Supply Chain Manager. It was work that needed to be done. Coordinated huntsmen were more efficient and efficiency saved lives.
Still, every now and then she got the urge to travel the Kingdoms again as a huntress. Unfortunately, she was more of a liability now beyond the walls of the city.
"Anyway, how can I help you?"
"I was looking for a mission."
"You tried to break in for a huntsman assignment?"
"Yeah. Figured that would be for the best. You saw what they accused me of?" She nodded. He blinked. "Surprised you didn't try to skewer me then."
"The night is still young ScareQrow." His nose twitched at the old schoolyard nickname, causing her to laugh softly. He was still the same. "But I saw their ridiculous proof. I have never heard you use the words 'Yee' and 'Haw' in the same sentence."
"Thank you!" He slumped in the seat before returning to the edge. "It's like they have no sense at all. They never would have caught me on camera."
"You get why they did it right?"
Qrow snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Better safe than sorry."
"Not answering your scroll didn't help. Ozpin called me to ask if I had seen you." She was not amused. "Why, I don't know. This is the first time in years we have been in the same room, let alone talked."
He winced at that. "Sorry. I destroyed it so I couldn't be tracked. I also wanted to give him plausible deniability if I couldn't fix things."
"Did you fix things?" She pressed.
"Yup. Got the weapons and the gang behind the theft rounded up. Even got the chick who pretended to be me. Left them gift wrapped for a uni down by the docks." He leaned back, putting his feet up on the desk. He retracted them a second later when Lily glared at him. The same one she used on her daughter. It never failed. "That's actually why I want a mission. It lets me get out of the way and let 'em to do their job."
"Or, you could go in and help expedite things…" He made no sign of acknowledgement to the suggestion. "You're not going to do that. Okay. Any preferences?"
"Yeah, got anything near Patch? Thought I would visit my nieces and their big lug of a father."
"Sounds good." Using the powers invested in her by the Kingdom of Vale, she brought up her search query. "How is Tai? I heard about..."
"He has his ups and downs." He cut her off while mimicking her. It was a terrible impression. The humor drained from his face for a serious answer. "Last time I saw him he was up, but I want to make sure. Things have been tough on all of them, especially the kids. Another reason I need to see them."
Typing 'Patch' into the search bar got no results. Not a real surprise, since it was not a proper, chartered settlement. It was more an island with some homesteads on it. It's biggest attraction was its proximity to Signal, a preparatory huntsman academy that fed into the bigger academies. The search was not advanced enough to tell her jobs that were close by. She would have to eyeball it.
Opening the list view of all unassigned jobs, she started at the top. Bingo. "There is one at Relay that came in a few hours ago. You know where that is?"
"Isn't it on the mainland facing Patch?" Lily nodded. "Yeah, although I've never been there."
"But you've been to Patch?" Lily asked, detecting a logical error with his statement. Qrow simply shrugged. Getting answers out of him was like trying to get blood out of a stone. "The job is a search and destroy for a single Grimm."
"That doesn't sound like a good use of a huntsman." She agreed. It was like bringing a grenade launcher to a knife fight. There was more to the request.
"They claim the local militia can't find it and there has already been a fatality. It might be a smart Grimm. An old one."
"Great. Well, serves my purposes." He stood up and made his way towards the exit before stopping and leaning in the doorway to look back over his shoulder. A single red eye locked onto hers. "Who's my contact?"
"Uh… a deputy sheriff named Roscoe. I'll let them know you are on your way and also that the notice about you going rogue was a false alarm." She began drafting the message. Qrow left the archway. She stopped, remembering something, and called his name. Opening a drawer, she pulled out a small, rectangular box. Grabbing her cane she hobbled to the lobby.
Luckily, he heard her and was waiting. "What, couldn't get enough of me?" He waggled his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes and tossed the box at him. He caught it easily.
"A new scroll. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone I gave it to you."
"Thanks. I'll pay you back. Next time, we should go out for drinks. Catch up like normal people."
"I'll hold you to it." She wouldn't mind some company from a colleague. "And call the old man when you get a chance. He sounded worried."
"Okay, Mom." She laughed. He turned to leave, before stopping. "Hey, this job is important, yeah? You can do a lot of good here."
"I know Qrow." She stated. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the opportunity. I just miss my old job. I trained for years to hunt Grimm, and it got taken away in an instant." A forlorn expression crossed her face. "I feel like I can do more than just a desk job."
"Maybe." Qrow said. "Although, I know a couple of girls who would have been happier if their mother had stopped being a huntress to take a desk job." Shame pooled in her stomach. "I'll see you around Lily."
〇-〇-〇
His supplies were gone. The Branwen had needed to travel lightly in case other huntsmen were chasing him, so he ditched his travel bag near the outskirts of the city. Someone had taken it. He debated tracking down his bag but decided that was a lost cause. This was just another reason he needed to get to Patch ASAP.
Passing a few bars along the way, Qrow was tempted to stop for a quick dunk, but refrained. He still needed to get out of the city. After a brisk walk, he approached the great wall that separated the City of Vale from the outside world. Two guards stood on either side of a large, steel service door. One of the guards had a terrible handlebar mustache and the other wore a pair of red shades. At night.
"On your way out?" asked Mustache in genuine worry. "It's dangerous out there alone."
"I'm sure I'll be fine." Qrow smiled. "I'm a huntsman."
Both guards stood straighter and saluted. He would admit that the shock that most people had when finding out his profession was fun. Usually, they would think he was a bum. One time, someone had the gall to toss a lien into his coffee cup when he was enjoying it outside.
"Hey, could one of you lend me a pen and paper real quick?" Shades obliged him, pulling a small notebook from his breast pocket and ripping a page out. He did not need to use an exit gate but thought he should leave a message for his mentor. Pushing the paper against the wall, Qrow began to compose. Mustache spoke into his communication device to ask for the gate to open for a huntsman. After scrawling a letter, saying he would be in Relay on assignment and would call as soon as possible, he handed it back to Shades.
"Mind seeing that gets to Headmaster Ozpin at Beacon Academy? He will want to see it as soon as possible. It's from Qrow Branwen."
"Sure!" replied Shades. He seemed to be an eager one. The wall parted by a fraction. Just large enough for him to squeeze through. Qrow walked out the gate and began to count. 1… 2… 3… There were no guards on the other side. Probably for the best. 8… 9… "Wait! Stop!"
Qrow beat feet instead.
Once a good distance away, the Lone Traveler unhooked his hip flask. He raised it to his lips but was stopped by several growls. He could not suppress his frustration at being delayed from his treat. "Really? We're going to do this now?"
Five black, four-legged canines, yelped in acknowledgement. Each one was easily twice his size in terms of mass, if not bigger. Red eyes so similar to his own glared at him. The bone white armor that adorned their heads and body identified them as creatures of Grimm. The Beowolf variety. The middle one stood on its haunches as if to signal to 'bring it.'
Qrow decided right then and there that it would be the first to die.
Rushing forward, with the flask in one hand and his unfolded sword in the other, he stepped into its guard. Before the monster could fall on top of him, he stabbed forward, piercing it all the way through its back. With a tug upwards, he pulled the edge up, cutting it in half horizontally. It collapsed in a heap of gore, left leg twitching.
Two more leaped at him. Qrow jumped higher, causing the two to collide into each other. He fell upon them, stomping their heads. The armor on their skulls crushed inwards, probably killing them. For good measure, he stabbed down twice.
The last two tried to grab him when he landed, but Qrow simply spun. The motion severed their claws. They cried out in agony, but he silenced them with a quick shift of Last Chancery into scythe mode and decapitating them.
It was when Qrow relaxed that a sixth set of teeth appeared and gnashed at him. Qrow lifted his flask carrying arm to block. He grunted as light shimmered over his arm. Aura, his unlocked soul and the source of his inhuman strength, shielded the creature from chewing his arm off. Qrow cursed his sloppiness.
"Where were you hiding?" The Grimm howled around his arm in response. He figured it must have been hiding in the shadow of its pack, waiting for a chance to strike when he was distracted. It was starting to develop intelligence. A less experienced huntsman would have died just then.
Qrow pulled his other arm back, transforming the scythe back into a sword in the process. The creature saw what he was doing and let go. It was not fast enough to get out of the way of his attack. The Huntsman chucked his weapon at it with enough force to skewer its throat. As it dropped to the ground, choking on its own blood, Qrow stepped forward and ripped out the sword with a twist. With a gasp, it fell to the ground and expired. The other members of the pack had already begun to dissolve into wisps of black. In a few minutes, there would be no trace of their existence.
Now that his impromptu work was done, he took a long drag of his flask. The bitter liquid burned all the way down. The last few days had been torture. He couldn't risk wetting his beak with the whole city looking for him. Technically speaking, he still shouldn't with all the night travelling he had ahead with him, but he needed to scratch that itch.
"Relay." He tested the name of his destination. "When did they get a Sheriff's department?" The last he had heard, it was a small settlement with an almost non-existent population. The kind of place someone could go to peacefully decompose.
He absently touched his breast-pocket and found a lump. Reaching in, he pulled out a ring. It shimmered in the moonlight. The ring was gold with red and white diamonds arranged in the shape of an axe on its face.
Qrow groaned. He had not meant to take it with him. He just liked messing with people sometimes. That Haung guy might have been a scumbag, but Qrow wasn't going to sink to his level by stealing. Like a bandit. He swore that the next time he was in Vale, he would make sure to drop it off with the police.
With that resolved, he needed to start his travels. If Qrow was quick, he could be in Relay by morning. Perhaps he could even get some rest before meeting his contact. He hadn't slept in a good while. The Bullhead class airships would not be running this late beyond the wall. Luckily, that was not a problem for him.
A single black bird flew into the night.
Author Notes: It's funny. When I was originally writing this, I toyed with the idea of never having the story from Qrow's perspective. Instead, we would just see other people's reactions to him and his actions. Depending on if it was friend or foe, their experience and thoughts would vary widely. In a way, it would be like those old The Spirit comics where the titular character is more of a common thread between stories than the protagonist. For instance, a villain would be plotting something and in the background you would see the Spirit watching or running around in the background.
It also would be interesting to have the description of Qrow change from person to person, but I realized that would limit my writing significantly. Qrow would never be able to do anything by himself. It was also a bit gimmicky. Maybe a shorter story could carry it, but I know that it would not work for something like this.
For those wondering, Qrow is using a different weapon from cannon. Without spoiling things, it will become a plot point later. Just thought I should give the heads-up for those who might be confused.
Chapter Next: Where Did You Sleep Last Night? (4/10/20)