"So the next town is…"
Her heel boots strode through the dirt road, as her red cape fluttered slightly in the wind. The Map she was holding obscured her vision, as she and her companions followed the path. To her left was a ginger hyperactive firebrand, and to her right two boys; a blond knight and a dark-haired ninja.
"Welp we're lost." She groaned as she could not make sense of the map in front of her! She really should have paid more attention in Port's classes when he told them about navigation.
"We're not lost." Jaune chuckled. "The next town is Shion, my family used to visit it all the time."
"Oh yeah." Ruby smiled. "Don't you have like, four sisters?"
"Ehhh…" The Blond scratched the back of his head. "Seven…"
Ruby giggled.
"You know, that actually explains a lot," Nora spoke up, a grin spread on her face. Jaune raised an eyebrow for a few seconds before realization dawned on him.
"Wait! What do you me-"
"Soooooooo…" Ruby cut in, not exactly wanting to into that discussion. "What did you exactly do there?"
"Oh, all sorts of stuff!" The knight cut the distance between rose and the other members of RNJR and grabbed the map. "There!" he pointed at a spot on the map. "Is a great hiking trail and over here is a great camping spo-"
Nora and Ren on the other hand-tuned out the discussion of both as their eyes were glued on the town at the Horizon, smoke rising from some of the buildings. Broken walls, claw marks, and rubble dotted the place as an aura of unease surrounded the place.
"Uhhh guys…" Nora began, her voice filled with worry.
"What?" Both Huntsmen looked up their map.
As they gazed upon the broken town however they understood. Though Disturbed Team RNJR rushed towards the town, Jaune taking the front. Yet as they got closer their hearts calmed down as they noticed the townsfolk, all working on the buildings, taking care of the still lingering fires, and unfortunately carrying some of the dead.
"What happened here…" Jaune spoke out loud, though still keeping a pace as the team entered the city. The second they stepped in, two Guards pointed their weapons at them
"Who goes there!"
"Stop!" Ren raised his hands, "We're huntsman! We saw the smoke and tried to come as fast as possible."
The guards visibly relaxed and pointed their weapons down. From the back, another figure made it towards them, steel cuirass and holding a rifle-like weapon.
"Huntsman ?" He spoke, through a faint frown. "You are a bit late, wouldn't you say."
"Hey!" Nora spoke up. "We just got here, we don't even know what's going on!"
The armored individual raised an eyebrow but then sighed.
"You're right, that was unnecessary of me." He looked at the group. "Name's Stahl, we've been trying to send a distress call for a while and no one answered."
"What happened?" Ruby took a few steps forward. "This whole place looks like it was torn apart."
"Bandits happened," Stahl growled. "Bastards came in the middle of the night, an entire Tribe of em. Started robbing and killing everyone causing a panic. The thing is they don't need to finish us all off cause of the Grimm."
"That's Horrible." Nora gasped. "But how did you survive the Grimm?"
"Well, it's funny you mentioned that." Stahl rubbed his head. "While the bandits were fighting us out of nowhere this big ass dude comes out of the forest wearing massive armor and using advanced weapons that would make Atlas jealous."
Confusion spread amongst RNJR.
"After turning one of the Bandits into a goddamned blood balloon, he started to butcher the rest of em like a chef in a chop shop. The man was merciless."
"He killed people," Jaune spoke up, his face slightly pale.
"Kill them?" Stahl had a bit of a smirk yet there was a hint of reluctance upon his features. "No, he just wrecked them like he was taking out the trash. He even popped a chick's head open like it was a goddamned soda can and threw it at another Bandit like it was nothing, it was inspiring...and absolutely horrific."
Team RNJR was completely pale, dread crawling down their spine, the acts this person committed shaking them to the core.
"Did…" Ren began, eyes scanning around. "Did he harm anyone in the town?"
"Thankfully he didn't," Stahl assured them. "In fact, he told us to go and hide in the town hall while he took down the Grimm hoard.
"Wait he WHAT?!" Nora yelled.
"Yep, spend the whole night and early morning killing them." The huntsman began to hobble towards the town, the team following him closely. "We didn't get to see it since we were all in the basement keeping the civies safe but the sounds outside made it seem like it was a freakin warzone."
"That's terrifying," Ren spoke up, a glazed look in his eyes before Nora placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small reassuring smile.
"When we finally got out to check it, he was gone." they finally got to a nearby chair, among the working commoners and guards checking in the rubble. "This Brother-damned legend came out of nowhere, killed the bandits, killed the Grimm, refused to elaborate who the hell he was, and then just up and left."
"That's ...wow." Ruby scratched the back of her head, unsure how to feel. "Was he a Huntsman?"
"Don't think so." Stahl finally sat down, a groan escaping his lips. "I've graduated in Vacuo, fought even in one of the Vytal tournaments years ago, fought even a few ex-Huntsmen. Yet I've never seen someone fight like that. He was slower, steady yet deadly. Every shot counted, every strike did something and most importantly he had this cold but brutal chill around him."
"Any idea where he went?" Jaune spoke up.
"Well, some of the guards found massive footprints leading where the rest of the Bandits ran." Grabbing a bottle from his pocket, The Huntsman took a sip. "I don't know who he was, I don't know where he went but one thing's sure."
The look he gave them was dark, and send a chill down their spines.
"If he finds them, there will be hell to pay."
Raven gazed out of the truck, her crimson eyes glued to the treeline of the road. The raid had been a disaster; originally after the Grimm destroyed the town, they would have marched in and looted the place before leaving.
Now she was down to half of her party, with several of those who survived injured, and worst of all they didn't even get to the robbing part. The good news was that this was just a part of the Tribe; she wasn't stupid, of course, she'd leave the majority of the Tribe back in the main camp.
However, they won't be able to go on raids for a while; that damned Robot-man-thing had to ruin everything. Her fist clenched, as she remembered how several of her men had also been slaughtered by Grimm on their way to their raid camp.
She had been tempted to fight him; A single man slaughtering half her raiding band as if they were nothing? That's someone worthy of having their head severed and placed as a trophy in her tent. She could have used her might and if he proved to be especially hard she could always use her...special powers.
However staying and fighting while the Grimm were about to rush them all, was too much of a risk. No, she wasn't going to doom her tribe and herself just to stroke her ego. Still, if he had survived, if he had managed to live through that hoard...
A one-man army like that? Especially someone as ruthless? It would be a good trade-off compared to those she lost if he joined her cause.
Besides, if they died then they had it coming; only the strong survive, and the bandits who perished were too weak to stay. Perhaps this raid had truly been a success, in that it removed the weakness in the Branwen tribe. They may be smaller now but became stronger as a result.
"Something on your mind ma'am?"
Raven turned her head to the driver, the girl with the short hair and tattoo on her left arm.
"It's nothing Vernal, just thinking about plans is all," Raven responded as she turns her head to the girl. "Last night gave me a lot to think about."
"About how we got our asses kicked?"
Raven's eyes narrowed. "Watch your tongue welp, and remember whose sitting with you."
A sudden static chill filled the air, which caused Vernal face to turn paler.
"My apologies Ma'am…"
Branwen's eyes soften slightly before she looked at her hilt. "Still you're not wrong; the death toll is gonna set us back for a while." Her hand caressed the weapon slightly. "But I don't think that the tin-can will be able to follow us for a while."
"Why is that?"
Raven smiled, a small crackle of electricity running down her fingers.
"Let's just say things are about to get...soaked."
"God, fucking Dammit!"
The Wanderer glared at the "trail" or rather what used to be it. A mass of droplets smashed against his armor, the wind howling and temperatures falling. Dogmeat shivered slightly as his fur became a soggy mess, leaves, and dirt sticking to him.
Shaking his head the Wanderer realized they needed to find shelter; the power armor could survive the storm without issue but Dogmeat couldn't. The Wanderer grabbed the pupper while carrying his pack. The helmet's headlamp lit up and so he marched through the dark woods.
Paranoia rose as the shapes in the woods reminded the Wanderer of certain silhouettes. Claw-like branches, imposing berry bushes, and skeletal-like twigs seemed to be all over the place. Due to holding Dogmeat, the Wanderer couldn't reach for a weapon.
His weight caused him to sink slightly with every step, tickles of mud clashing against his boots. The weight he was carrying was also not great for the frame, putting strain on the servos. And finally, he felt as though the shapes surrounded him, gnawed at him.
A bark snapped the Wanderer back in reality as Dogmeat hopped off the Wanderer and took off in a random direction.
"Dogmeat!"
He took after his hound, nearly slipping on mud for a second.
Even though he felt that every shape was hostile and monstrous, he couldn't help but ignore it; all he had left was Dogmeat, and he refused to let him go.
It was after a few minutes that he finally caught up to the Dog.
Though he may love the hound he was ready to yell at it, for running off like that.
What he wasn't ready however was the cave entrance that Dogmeat found. The Wanderer glanced down at the shivering but tail-waggling hound.
"Good boy."
The power armor had been placed in a corner, the fusion core taken out. The cave wasn't very deep; really it was only a dwelling. At the center, a bonfire had been placed, with a pot cooking some 200-year-old mac and cheese, while the Wanderer and Dogmeat sat around the heat.
The light illuminated his worn armored and modified vault suit. The once bright blue and the sleek jumpsuit were faded, dirty, and stitched together, as though it was covered by a gray filter. The armor itself was a mishmash of random bits cobbled together. Legs were covered in polished metal armor that he had cannibalized from a raider's metal armor in the Pitt. The arms were protected by two different pieces. The Right arm was covered in the metal plates from a suite of Gamma-armor and the left arm with heavy leather armor. The number 101 had been plastered on the black combat armor chest piece he had torn off Lagbolt's suit; the bright yellow number shining against the flame light.
To his side lay a black combat helmet he had stolen from that fucker Jabsco. He had added a pair of Anchorage-styled goggles to it and hanging from his neck was a skull balaclava that he had found in Arlington cemetery and found neat enough. Currently, it was down, revealing his face.
Yet upon everything people would see from the Wanderer it was his face that was the most haunting.
Many would mistake him for a ghoul at first glance; after all, he might as well be with his burned-looking skin, dark ring around his eyes, and barely hanging hair. However, upon further inspection, the skin wasn't rotting but just covered in radiation burns.
He also still had a beard and some hair. Most of it fell out so he couldn't do the clean-cut he liked so much; Butch helped him with that and gave him a 'raider-like' haircut that had a bit of a punk-like vibe. He hated it but at least it was better than being bald.
Regardless, as he rubbed his platinum-colored beard, the Wanderer looked at the food, the smell somewhat aromatic. Say what you want about pre-war America, those guys at the food corporations really managed to create food that didn't go bad after 200 years. Probably wasn't healthy, but so wasn't drinking irradiated water and smoking.
With a grunt, he lifted the pot from the fire and put the warm steamy meal on an old ceramic plate. With a spork, he took a bite from the meal, a somewhat stale but filling food being chowed. His eyes turned to Dogmeat whom he had left with a plate of cram.
Turning back to his own meal, reflections of his past filled his thoughts…
"I WILL SKULL FUCK YOU!"
The Raider at the back of the cover unloaded his entire clip into the Wanderer's direction. The Vault Dweller yelled as he jumped behind cover, a bullet grazing his side. Though the leather Armor on his suit was decent, it lacked torso protection.
Trying to fight off the burning agony on his side, the Wanderer took out the 10mm Amata had given him, shakily aiming back at his attacker. The first two shots missed and the third was deflected by the bastard's metal shoulder plate.
"AHAHAHA!"
Rifle fire was returned, and the Wanderer made himself small, hoping to god this wasn't going to end badly. The Raider jumped behind cover, the Rifle slung over his shoulder. With a smirk, he pulled out a Knife, eyes filled with murder.
"Come on vault piggy! I just want your bacon!"
The Dweller shot out of cover but was too late as the Raider's foot connected with the Wanderer's face. He fell backward, his nose broken and vision dizzy. Looming the Raider cackled, the knife flaring in the sunlight.
"You're gonna look good on my grill tonight lil-vaulter."
Then with a maniacal laugh, he jumped at the Dweller, the blade going down. Perhaps it had been luck or maybe it was his reflexes, but the Wanderer managed to grab the Raider's arm before he could be gutted, the cutter only piercing the skin slightly. The Raider growled and let go of his rifle.
"LET GO YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!"
The Raider's fist came down on the Wanderer, and the knife was held up high again. In a state of fight or flight, the Wanderer's knee came up and hit the Raider between the legs. Howling the Raider loosened his grip on the knife and clutched his groin.
A growl escaped the Dweller's mouth and his own fist rose and smashed into the Raider's face, loosening some teeth and causing them to fall backward. Adrenalin rushing through his veins the Wanderer's vision became red as he pounced on top of the Raider, his hands clasping the guy's throat.
However, this wasn't the end.
The Wanderer while choking his victim lifted the Raider's head before slamming it back down mid choke, each his becoming harder and harder on the back of the Raider's skull. The Raider on the other hand with building eyes and tears flowing tried to get the Dweller off him, punching and kicking.
Yet it was as though the Wanderer was possessed as they ignored any sort of pain and kept slamming the Raider's head in. After a few seconds, blood began to pool out and when the Raider slowly but surely stopped struggling and breathing, the Wanderer began to pound on his attackers' face.
"WHY?!" The Wanderer howled, "WHY DID YOU MAKE ME DO THIS?!"
He kept punching and punching until all that was left was gray matter and bone fragments.
When the Wanderer stood back up with shaky legs and hands dripping with blood, all he felt was the will to let out a ghastly animalistic howl, all alone surrounded by rust and dust, broken homes, and desert sand.
His grayish blue eyes stared at the flame, the howl still ringing in his mind.
Only a year ago he had struggled to survive, and now?
Looking at the pip-boy's death toll, his eyes felt hazy, and a grimace spread on his face. The last time he had checked was around a year ago when it told him he killed 1001 people and 1782 muties. Looking at it now the number had only doubled since then.
Brotherhood needed him with the Pride having a lot of missions and the Regulators had plenty of bounties. Still to think how many people were six feet under thanks to him…
Sure most of them were bastards; Raiders, Slavers, and Enclave soldiers all fell when they faced him, and yet…
Was it truly worth it to have enough blood on his hands to fill up a lake?
Ruby laid in the bed of the somewhat disheveled hotel room. After helping out a bit in Shion, RNJR had been offered a small room to rest for the night. Granted the hotel was still damaged from the Grimm attack but it had been better than sleeping outside in the camps, especially with the storm still outside.
Sharing a bunk with Nora, ( who was currently snoring like a beast), she looked towards the other Bunk-bed where Jaune and Ren had rested. While Ren was sleeping she caught Jaune glancing at his Scroll; looking at the footage again.
Apparently one of the buildings had security cameras that had still worked and managed to capture some clips. Though they were colorless Rose had to admit that they had been...frightening.
"Jaune…" Ruby groaned as she looked at him. "It's 2 am, go to sleep already…"
"I know but…" Jaune closed his eyes for a second. "Something is fishy about the whole thing."
Jaune glanced back at the video; the armor-clad "Huntsman" just caved in the skull of a Beowolf, the bone mask rendered useless against the mechanical servos.
"I've never seen a suit of armor like that…" Jaune took note of the details on the armor, the two black stars on the shoulder, faintly on the chest he could see a creamy emblem over the snowy paint job. It looked scratched as if to disassociate itself with what it once was but sloppily done. Actually, now that he looked more closely the color looked more...metallic.
The Emblem was a sword with wings, overlapping a few gears. What it meant he had no idea, but he knew he was gonna look on the scrolls' local database tonight…
Then there were other things that caught his eye.
On the soldier's left arm was a red stripe with a symbol on it; a red shield with a white sword over it and two laurels on each side.
A rank perhaps?
Still, the iconography was unfamiliar; Nora had guessed it was an Atlas soldier, but it couldn't be. Jaune had a phase when he was younger where he had been obsessed with Atlas Military. Having also played a lot of Cry of Loyalty games he had known a lot about how the Atlesian army operates.
Yet this was nothing like them.
Though he had military discipline and traces of similar tactics, he fought more like a brute; ripping, slicing, or smashing his enemies apart as well as using guns to blast them apart. Then was the armor; Jaune had seen power armors online; they were slim suits of armors with aura-enhancing generators; usually reserved for Atlesian Huntsmen.
This suit was bulky and mechanical.
It shrugged off Grimm claws as if they were nothing and if he had to guess from the frame's build it enchanted the wearer's strength. Then there was the fact of the state this armor was in.
It looked ancient, worn, and damaged to a degree.
Atlasians pride themselves on looking prim and proper before every deployment; it's supposed to be a sign of disciple, and effectiveness compared to common bandits or lower-quality Huntsmen. This man had no pride, as he tore apart a Grimm with his bare hands and ripped out its spleen before punching another Grimm with said spleen.
Just pure aggravation.
"Maybe you're overthinking it," Ruby spoke as she sat near him. "I mean he did save the town…"
"He also tore apart a person's spine and stomped a Bandit's skull while gunning down a few others…" Jaune responded as he focused on other markings on the armor.
"Yeah...he did." Ruby's face paled at the memory, having puked when she saw it earlier that day in the footage; What kind of man does that?
"Aren't you worried Ruby?" The Blonde spoke up, the bags under his eyes apparent. "I mean you're right he did save the town, but what if he didn't do it out of the goodness of their heart."
"I am worried but…" The girl rubbed her arm. "I feel like we should focus on what's going on in Mistral; After what Cinder did we need to check in Haven and find out how this all happened."
Jaune froze; the mention of Cinder flashed the image of a certain red hair with green eyes in his mind.
"I know Ruby...I…"
"Look how about this then." Ruby placed a hand on Jaune. "If we get to Haven we can tell Lionheart about this guy and he can help us look for this man. We can take care of this much better and be more organized that way. If we go looking for them now or tomorrow we might not even find them, especially with the storm probably covering their tracks."
"You're right." Arc sighed. "Thanks, Rubes."
"No problem!" She chuckled bubbly. "Anyway we got a long day ahead of us, so let's get some sleep. Good night!"
"Night Ruby."
Both of them returned to bed, their eyes closing upon laying there. However, even if they rested a small question in the back of their mind bothered them.
How many are going to die until they arrive at Mistral?