Disclaimer: HARQ is a fanwork of the Rooster Teeth Animated Production RWBY. All characters from the original cast of RWBY are owned by Rooster Teeth.
Special thanks to eliort on for their artwork contributions. Thanks to Hector for editing.
XXX
"Ok back there?" Qrow asked as their buggy took another rough bump. Tin Steadfast clung to the handle of his seat. His face was especially pinched and sour in the full light of day.
"If you ask me that after one more bump, Qrow Branwen, I'll be shouting that over my shoulder as you go flying off the back of this piece of junk!" Qrow's raspy voice was lost in a bang from the old engine but his chuckle was clear as day. "What'd you say, punk?"
"I said, how will you drive it with one foot?"
"Same way I'll kick your behind into next week," Tin growled. The Hunter's lodge was a more modern building than most visitors expected. A lot of glass and steel shaped like the distant-descendant of an ancient longhouse. Tin grumbled about needing his sunglasses just to look at it.
"You can borrow mine," Qrow said.
"I'd give them back to you up your nose!" The younger Hunstman laughed again as the buggy shuddered onto blacktop for the last hundred yards of their ride.
The security staff waiting for them did not salute, per Tin's loud and crabby instructions, but they did give the Huntmaster crisp nods of respect.
"Welcome back, old man! Lupe Derryo's been missing you," someone shouted from the guardhouse.
"Well," Tin said as he limped to the checkpoint, "after a while the rock in your shoe becomes a way of life rather than an annoyance." He stopped at the metal detectors and sat himself on the railing. He carefully unhooked his prosthetic leg.
"Tin, we needed to be inside today," Qrow said as he walked through the one beside his. Tin glared at him and then looked at the security person with a slow shake of his head.
"You hear how he talks to me? Me! His boss. What other person would put up with this?" He slipped his leg along the conveyor belt and snapped at an approaching guard. "Charlie you come one step closer and you're fired. I'm your boss too." The old Hunter used his arms to propel himself through the metal detector. He nearly lost his balance and Charlie swooped in to grab him.
"Don't help me!" he snapped.
"Tin," Qrow said, "let's save some time instead of your pride this morning, huh?" The younger man's dark eyes were soft with worry, in spite of his words. The security staff did not make a fuss or overbear as they helped Tin get his leg back on. The Huntmaster nodded, jaw tight.
"Fine, Charlie you can stay," he said, "but you're on thin ice!" Laughter broke the tension as the Hunters made their way inside. Charlie called after.
"You could always skip it, Tin, no one thinks you're trying to bomb your own Lodge." The Huntmaster called over his shoulder as Qrow ushered him through the large, glass doors.
"With you jokers working here no one would blame me if I did!"
Lupe Derryo sighed and rubbed a spot behind their left ear. It was vulpine, marking them as a Faunus. The Hunter checked their watch and willed Tin Steadfast to appear. They turned as the door to the main hub of the Hunters creaked open.
"You win no points for being on time, Huntmaster, but-" as they turned and saw the room's new occupant, their face broke into a smile. The girl who'd entered waved her hands for silence and crouched down behind a potted cactus.
A second later, Tin blustered in complaining to Qrow Branwen.
"I can still use stairs, damn it, especially if it's two floors." Qrow shot Lupe an eye-roll.
"Yeah," he said, "but that doesn't mean the elevator is a worse option. Tin, you got nothing to prove to me, I already think you're pathetic." Tin threw his hands out at Lupe Derryo.
"Can you believe this? This kinda back-chat to the Huntmaster. If Bo Brindle were alive-"
"We could've started our conference call a long time ago," Lupe interrupted. Tin deflated. Behind him, Qrow caught sight of the hiding girl and covered his mouth with one hand to keep from laughing.
"Fine," he grumbled, "everyone wants a piece of the old man today, huh?"
"More people than you think." The girl crept out in three quick steps and covered Tin's eyes from behind.
"Hey! What's the big-"
"Guess who!" The girl said with a laugh. Tin's face broke into a grin.
"Spruce Willis?"
"Hey, my voice is not that deep!" Tin broke away and turned into a tight hug. Ruby Rose grinned at Lupe over Tin's shoulder.
"No," the Huntsmaster said, "but damn if you're not getting as tall as him! What you'd grow a foot since I last saw you?"
"Nope," Ruby snickered impishly, "still got just the two." She wiggled one of her black and red combat-boots for effect.
"Great," Tin said, "now the whole pack of them are comedians." His face softened and seemed to grow just a few years younger as he looked her over. "How the hell are you, Ruby? What are you doing here? Raven should've left days ago." Tin heard Qrow cough behind him at the mention of his sister.
"She said we had to wait," the girl shrugged, "but she didn't tell me anything." She rolled her eyes. "As usual."
"She's got her ways, kiddo, and she sticks to them. Its how us old people are. You'll get that way someday." Ruby made a face.
"I'll never be as old as you, Tin," she said.
"Ah, keep that up you won't be any older, young lady, you mark my words. Now, I'd love to chat with you but the Headmasters are waiting to give me a bunch of crap. Go grab a bagel for me and a danish for yourself in the meanwhile. I want to hear all the stories over brunch after these guys have me for breakfast." Ruby grinned. There was a red shimmer and a rush of wind that ruffled the papers in Lupe's hand. Tin goggled at the bagel, everything with cream cheese like he liked it, that was thrust before him.
"Want to see me do it again?" Ruby asked around a mouthful of apple danish.
"That's...you...you're fast, kid!" Tin said.
"Faster than a…" Ruby squinted, "aw, I had something for this!" Tin grinned and took a bite of his bagel.
"Somethings still need a chance to catch-up I see." Ruby pouted and Tin tried not to choke on his bagel when he laughed.
"Tin," Lupe said, genuinely wishing they didn't have to interrupt, "we need to go."
"Don't grow up all the way while I'm gone, Ruby," Tin said, "Qrow, you coming with?"
"I'll stay with my niece, keep her out of trouble," he said. Tin made a comment about the criminal trying to teach the hoodlum and took another bite of his bagel.
Inside the main communication hub of the Lodge, a large tv screen was filled with six Hunter school insignias. Tin wondered how much longer that would be the case and braced himself for the barrage.
"Alright," he said, "I'm here. I've had my vacation so go ahead and throw me a curb party to celebrate my return." Immediately, wavelengths of sound danced under the insignias as everybody scattered jabbering at once.
"Hunig Geat," he said, eyeing the one caller who hadn't spoken, "how are things in Mistral? The weather's nice this time of year."
"Temperate," said a clipped, powerful voice, "the new students should like it. Eighty this year." Tin eyed the other images for any sound. The faces of the callers, clear in his minds-eye, were hidden by his own orders. He did not wish this to be an interrogation or sneaky investigation of his colleagues. Lupe did not approve but they deferred to Tin's judgment.
Can't help but wonder who's sweating and who's smirking, though. He thought.
"Very good," Tin said, "a nice round number that. Bard Avon, cuz I know you're dying to show-off, go ahead and tell me what you got." The voice that answered was pitch-perfect and seemed to delight in the very act of speaking.
"First, let commend my stalwart colleague on her own acquisitions," Bard declared, "Huntress Geat, I'm certain you'll mold them into Hunters worthy of song and story."
"Hmm," Geat replied, "I leave that kind of decision to more free-floating minds." Tin wondered if that was a sneer in her voice or a smile.
"We do our best," Bard said, practically performing a bow with the words, "and this year our best was quite good. Ninety new apprentices. Every one a virtuoso." The symbol for Shade's school buzzed with a cough.
"Uruk Lugal, why don't you go next," Tin glanced at Shelter's insignia, "Eabani Clay you go after since I know that's what you want to do anyway."
"Shade welcomes seventy-five new apprentices to the fold," Uruk declared in a kingly boast of a voice. Tin frowned.
That's not so bad. Why the coughing?
"Shelter," Eabani Clay's voice, normally impossible to differentiate from Uruk's stood out today with a little uncertainty, "has fifty new apprentice Hunters." Tin winced and heard Lupe sigh with dejection to his right.
"I see," Tin said, trying to betray nothing, "well. Together that makes One-hundred-twenty-five so I guess that's an alright number." Shade and Shelter were as closely connected as any Academy could be. Their Headmasters were childhood best-friends who'd never stopped being joined at the hip.
"Sage Ozpin," York said, "how many colors did you end up having to go through this year? You finally run out and just start numbering the teams like I say you should?"
There was silence from the Beacon insignia. Tin raised an eyebrow.
"Ozpin? Hey, Lupe, we got a bad connection or what?" A thousand miles across the continent, Ozpin cleared his throat and took a deep breath.
"Nine teams," he said, trying to sound strong and added, as if it mattered, "thirty-six new apprentices."
"Elder brother be good," mumbled Uruk Lugal.
"Hey," Tin roared, "am I talking to you right now, Hunter? Keep your mouth shut and your comments to yourself." He turned back to the insignia, wishing he'd let them use the camera so Ozpin could see his look. Disappointment was there, unavoidably, but not in the Headmaster.
"They're good kids," Ozpin said, finding his certainty, "strong and capable. They'll work well together and make up the difference with their teams."
"I have no doubt, Sage," Tin said, "you keep them busy." There was a long moment of silence before Tin continued. Every Huntsmaster pondered the meaning of such a small number of new students.
"James Ironwood," Tin Steady said began. Hunig Geat cut in with a razor-sharp comment.
"General James Ironwood, Tin, he's earned that title after all." Bard Avon gave a small, not-at-all laugh-like, cough.
"I will hang up on every one of you," Tin growled, "and call you one at a time. So if you are not the person I want to talk to shut your mouths." He shook his head. "Am I talking to the Headmasters of the Academies or their sophomores, here?" He nodded to the Signal insignia and smacked himself a forehead a moment later. "James, go ahead.
"It's been a good year, Tin, and its nice to chat with you again," James Ironwood was as affable as ever in his tone, "we've got four-hundred new students at Signal this year."
"May I ask a question?" Geat said.
"No," Tin snapped. Ironwood chuckled, the wavelength dancing as he did.
"It's alright, Tin," he said, "well, Geat, three-hundred and fifty are signed on for Hunter-training. At least half will make it to graduation. If not, that forty-percent at worst." James made a little noise of admonition to himself. "Sorry, that's a hundred-sixty, at least."
"I know," Geat said, her voice nearly the growl of a she-wolf.
"Great," Tin stepped in, "and well done to all of you. Numbers are not much without four-years of follow-through so don't take too much stock in them. Now. We can move on to general questions and-"
"Tin," Ozpin said, "there's a question we all have. All of us."
"Goddamn it," Tin snarled.
"Tin," Ozpin went on, "is it true that a school has to close?"
"Yes," Tin Steadfast said, the weight of the truth crushing him into a chair, "yes. One of the schools must close."
The din was immediate and expected. Tin snatched up the receiver of his phone and put two fingers in his mouth. A few curses came over the wavelengths as he whistled sharply into it.
"Tin," Hunig Geat growled, "please, don't do that."
"I am not here to answer questions regarding which schools or why or how the metric is being weighed or any of that. Get me?" Tin glared at the floor. "None of that! That I should have to live to see another school go under is…" he trailed off.
For a moment his mind was filled with fire. Starlight, first of the Hunter Academies, and his home since he was ten, burned in his memory. And in its glow, all across the Valley of the Scorpion, Hunters killed each other.
Bo Brindle had knelt over her older brother's corpse, silhouetted by the burning school and hadn't shed a tear. She couldn't. Not for Abram. Not after all that death.
"... too horrible for words."
"Tin," Jame said, "I think we're all a little worried. It's...well as you said."
"I will keep you apprised of this situation as I make my decision," he said, "as I see fit and how I see fit. Not any other way. So don't come slinking to me in your own time trying to get it out of me. Whatever school must close will not do so before the next Vytal Tournament. I want that. I want a last chance for us to come together. Together. As we should."
A timeline had been set and doubtless, six Headmaster's were calculating every day they had between now and then. Just under two years.
"Tin, if whole classes of students need to change schools…" Uruk tried to cut in but Tin shouted him down.
"Goddamn it, we will handle it! As for the students, I better never hear that they caught wind of this before I decided they should know. That will be met with a severe reprimand. Understood?"
A chorus of affirmatives did nothing to calm him.
"No political crap," Tin sighed, feeling ever one of his years at once, "no back-stabbing or breaking hearts. It...I swear if you do...it will kill me. I'm tempted to step down right here and right now."
No one said a word for a moment.
"Tin," James sighed, "don't be so dramatic."
"Take a breath," Hunig Geat sighed, "and collect yourself."
"We'll abide by your decision," Ozpin said, "as always."
Tin Steadfast laughed bitterly.
"What else is there? Any other business cuz...I don't know about you kids but I could really use an hour to decompress after this."
"There's one thing," Hunig Geat said, "I think you should be aware of regarding the selections of the last few days." She was about to go one when Ozpin burst in on her.
"I'll tell him myself," Ozpin said, "Tin, a Wechuge broke into our selection. The students held their own against it until some of our resident Hunters could step in. That is all." There was a bitter pause. "York reported back to you very quickly, Geat."
"York?" Tin said, "York Duchy? He was at Beacon for your selection? Why?" His eyes narrowed. "Oh no. No, no, no! This is the kinda stuff that's gonna give me a freaking aneurysm, Huntress Geat! None of this back and forth crap!"
"York Duchy told me nothing," Hunig Geat said, proud and unbent, "I was going to say that, similarly, we found a few extra Grimm in the Labyrinth. A Manticore to be specific." Tin shuddered.
"My god," he mumbled, "who took it down? Kleon? Or you?"
"One of my new students," Geat said, not a drop of arrogance in her voice, "a certain Mistralese warrior. By the name of Pyrrha Nikos."
"Pyrrah Nikos?" Uruk Lugal said. "My, my. I thought you hated tournament fighters."
"Well," Headmistress Geat said, "I intend to school her closely in the distinction between entertainment and real battle. She has potential. And a decent spirit."
"Great, great," Tin said, "but let's leave the girl from the Pumpkin Pete's cereal box aside for a second. A Manticore? And a Wechuge? Buzzard's guts. These things just snuck in? And nobody noticed?"
"It happened," Ozpin said, in a strangely stilted way, "after we launched our students."
"The Labyrinth is old," Geat offered, "and not all the old traps have been checked. An oversight on my part, Huntmaster, for which I take full responsibility."
"I'll hate you for it later, Huntress," Tin said, "for now I gotta know from everybody. Any bugaboos not supposed to be hanging around pop up in your selections? I mean if there was even a Boarbatusk you didn't like the look of I wanna know, right now."
"Nothing too bizarre," Bard Avon said, "though they did appear...more cunning than usual."
"Nothing concrete," Uruk said, "but there were signs, found by some of my newer students, that are consistent with the passing of a Conqueror Worm."
"Uruk is right," Eabani said, "I saw them for myself. It was headed into the Anvil."
"Get me a report on that," Tin muttered, "Anvil or not...I still want us tracking something that big and nasty. Blind, stupid, and soft but...big'uns like that are priority wherever they crawl. James? Anything?"
"How," Geat asked, "I assume none of the students had to actually fight Grimm when they showed up."
"Hunig Geat," Tin snapped, "I take away that goddamn Labyrinth you like so much if you are not very careful."
"Yes, Huntmaster."
"A few scattered sightings along the coasts. Those walrus-things with the ridiculous names. Cabbage-Kings?" Tin snickered.
"Somebody better drag Corduroy Carpenter out of the alehouse and sober him up," he said, "his chickens have come home to roost. Odd to see those things out in any kind of numbers. I figured they went extinct."
"That reminds me," Geat interjected, "I have a complaint to lodge about Hunter Carpenter's reporting on promising potential students."
"You said York hadn't told you anything," Ozpin quipped.
"Sage Ozpin," Tin growled, "I will make you stop using those goddamn color names. And we will discuss whatever that was about potential students another time. Though...I imagine its Cordy being Cordy. Old bastard. And yes, I know the irony of that coming from me. Anybody else got something?"
"I have several reports here," a voice said from the shadows of the hub, "if you'll listen."
Raven emerged, leafing through a file of papers.
"And here I was hoping you'd decided to take a break. Hunters, our sister Raven Branwen has something to add regarding the Grimm. What is it?" Tin steadied himself in his chair.
"It is my humble opinion that we face a Surge," she said.
"That's...unlikely," Ozpin said, "but not impossible."
"Its a Surge," Geat said suddenly, "better to assume it is."
"With what evidence?" Uruk and Eabani said in unison.
"Well," Bard Avon offered, "we all did just say the Grimm are acting odd."
"Grimm always act odd," James Ironwood said, "this is far from the first instance."
"Greater numbers," Raven said, "greater frequency of attacks, and, everywhere, more reports of old Grimm waking up. This is a Surge, Hunters. The first in eight decades. And when the last one happened…"
"The Hunters had twice our numbers," Tin groaned, "and far, far more support from the Kingdoms. When it rains it pours."
"What do we do, Tin?"
"We go on as Hunters," the Huntsmaster said, "and you prepare your new students for battle. Quickly. Perhaps this is nothing...but if it isn't...the Brothers keep us. Hunters, you are dismissed from this meeting. Hunt well."
"Hunt well," they replied. The screens went off one by one, leaving Tin Steadfast in near darkness. He sighed and wondered idly what Bo Brindle would've done.
It doesn't matter now. She's gone, kid, and now you're in charge.
"Buzzard's guts," he mumbled, "alright, Raven, let's go have brunch with your family. Don't argue, huh? I only want you there to talk business."
"As you say, Tin."
"Wow. Not ever gonna fight me on it?" Tin Steadfast shook his head as they left the room. "You really must be serious. Why couldn't I have kicked it in the night, last night? Why don't I ever get that lucky?"
"The Hunters ain't done with you, Tin," Raven's eyes sparkled, "that's why."
Editor Note:
Hello all, thanks for reading the final chapter to the first arc of HARQ's adventures! We're very glad we got to the end of this story we've been telling for some time and are eager to come back with more adventures for this team, but for now we're taking a temporary hiatus from HARQ until Vol 2 is complete. If you want to know what comes next, I recommend following us as authors so you'll be notified as to when Vol. 2 is released.
We sincerely hope you've enjoyed reading this story so far and that you stick around for what comes next. Until then!
