Strangers in Stranger Lands
"It seems there is a civilization nestled on this island…" Specialist Agent Winter Schnee commented at the sight of a farming community as she looked through her binoculars. Just up ahead was a stone castle built on a hill as if it was an overseer. Next to her was the team surveyor Matthias Hill was fiddling with his tools as he kept track of the distance they covered. The pair decided to do a minor scouting mission while the Vale counterparts were off and about exploring in a completely different direction. Undisciplined and uncouth, Winter couldn't help but question how they are the best Beacon has to offer. "We should investigate," she ordered her partner, prompting him to join her on a walk down a dirt road.
Just up ahead, there was a farmer tugging a massive wagon laden with straw. Its massive weight takes a toll on the individual given her hunched back. Must be a female laborer. Winter thought as she approached the woman. Most likely a wife to one of the farmers. Given the cotton cowl wrapped around her head, the lady must have been working all day long under the intense sunlight.
Marching up to the peasant in pure Atlesian efficiency, Winter tried to make contact with the person, hoping to gain insight into the community.
"Pardon me, ma'am-"
"Man!" the peasant turned around, revealing that he is in fact a man.
"Pardon me, sir." Winter corrected, feeling slightly embarrassed. "What can you tell me about this village? Is there anyone inhabiting that castle over there?"
"I'm thirty-seven!" the peasant replied, feeling a bit miffed. "I'm not that old! Nor am I even a knight!"
"Formality is required for my rank." Winter narrowed her eyes. "It's not proper to simply address you as 'Man'."
"Well, you could say 'Dennis'." the peasant retorted.
"I was ignorant of your identity." the Atlesian explained, "I did not know you were called 'Dennis'."
"Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?!" Dennis snarked as he continued pulling the cart.
"I once again apologize for mistaking your gender," Winter said, feeling incensed by the minute the more she talked to this peasant. "Your clothes have given an entirely different impression-"
"Well, I object to your...you automatically treat me like an inferior!" he disputed.
"I am Specialist Winter Schnee of the Kingdom of Atlas!" she countered, "I am a Huntress of the Atlesian Army!"
"Oh, Specialist, very nice…" Dennis metaphorically applauded at her rank sarcastically as he finally reached his destination and dropped the cart. "And 'ow'd you get that, eh?"
He stopped to fully face the soldier completely unintimidated by her aura and weapon.
"By exploiting the workers! By 'angin' on to outdated autocratic dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in your society; a corruption born from nepotism and crony capitalism. If there's ever going to be any reforms,-"
"Dennis! There's some lovely filth down 'ere." A peasant woman crawled across the grass like an ant towards a small mud hill. She was by far the ugliest woman Winter has ever seen. It took a few seconds before she noticed the two Atlesians. "Oh! 'Ow'd'ja do?"
"Good afternoon, ma'am." Winter greeted, "I am Winter Schnee, a Specialist and envoy from the Kingdom of Atlas. Is there anyone inhabiting that castle?" She pointed at the keep.
"Kingdom of the 'oo?" The peasant woman wrinkled her nose in confusion.
"Kingdom of Atlas." Winter repeated, trying to stay patient with these farmers.
"'Oo are Atlas?" The peasant asked.
"Atlesian." Specialist Schnee corrected.
"'Oo are Atlesians?" The mud farmer questioned.
"Me!" Winter answered, gesturing to herself and Matthias. "We both are Atlesians. We are here on an expedition to investigate this island which is uncharted to the four nations of Remnant. Since you are evidence of a community native here, I ask for an audience with your leader to conduct diplomacy."
"I didn't know our home was being explored." The peasant woman mumbled in amusement as she and Dennis dug mudpies from the pit to stack on the edge. "I thought the world ignored us."
"You're fooling yourself!" Dennis fumed, "We're living in a crisis! An endless desire of foreign imperialist ambition and colonial exploitation of overseas territories to feed the ceaseless bowels of corporate greed and unregulated industrialization that would leave the indigenous population and the working classes-"
"There you go," the female mud farmer groaned, "Bringing class and colonialism into it again…"
"That's what it's all about!" Dennis protested, "If only people would-"
"Excuse me for interrupting." Winter scowled, not wanting to draw her blade against the farmers. "Who lives in that castle?"
"No one lives there." the woman answered as if she was asked if the sky was blue.
"Then who is your feudal lord?" Now it's the Atlesian's turn to be confused
"We don't have a lord." the peasant repeated.
"What?"
"Listen!" Dennis explained, taking a moment to pause his current task to address Winter properly "We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune! We're taking turns to act as a sort of executive-officer-for-the-week-"
"I see." Winter could tell she will not enjoy where this is going.
"But all the decisions of that officer 'ave to be ratified at a special bi-weekly meeting-"
"Very well."
"By a simple majority, in the case of purely internal affairs-" Dennis continued.
"Yes."
"But by a two-thirds majority, in the case of more major-"
"Can we skip to a different topic?" Winter Schnee interrupted his relentless explanation. "This radical leftist government does not interest me."
"'Radical'?" the peasant woman ponders, "What makes 'oo think it's radical?"
"It's revolutionary anti-establishmentarian thought to decentralize the federal government to the point of internal upheaval." The Atlesian lectured, "It's radical ideology to Atlas."
"Well, what's safe to Atlas then?"
Puffing up her chest, Winter could now finally enlighten them with Atlesian civilization.
"Atlas is the protector of the world! We guarantee the security of nations and cities around the world with our overseas forces, which is the best and the largest in Remnant. Our kingdom has seen the deficiencies of decentralized control and so we combine our government and military as one to protect our democracy and society from both internal and external threats. That is why your system of bureaucracy is flawed at best and dangerous at worst! It has already left your community stagnant and weak!"
Much to her chagrin, Dennis chuckled at her mini-speech as he lifted himself off the ground to respond.
"Listen: you nor your nation have no right to criticize our way of life any more than we are to judge yours! Just because anarcho-syndicalism did not work for your nation on a macro-scale is no guarantee that it will fail on a micro-scale! It is a lot easier to organize 1000 people into a commune than it is to organize 100 million people into 1000 communes."
"Hold your tongue!"
"When you're the most powerful nation in the world, it's no surprise that all the other nation-states look weak in comparison! Of course you have to be the world's protector! But that does not mean you get to automatically dictate every domestic affair in another nation, especially when the situation is proven to be rather stable."
"Silence!"
"I mean, if I went around, punching people in the face, for not conforming to my code of morality, they'd put me away!"
"Shut up!" Winter drew her saber and pointed it directly at Dennis. "Cease your chatter!"
"Come see the violence inherent in imperialism!" Dennis shouted to his fellow farmers, drawing attention to Winter. "HELP! HELP! I'm being oppressed!"
With a crowd drawing in, Winter decided to simply swallow her pride and exit the community with Matthias in her footsteps. "Let's just leave already."
"Oh, what a giveaway!" Dennis remarked. " Did'j'hear that, did'j'hear that, eh? That's what I'm all about! Did you see 'er oppressing me? You saw it, didn't you?!"
Where are all the Grimm? Qrow thought curiously as he flew over a forest in Albion. No matter how far or how high he went, there was no danger greater than a stag or boar roaming under the trees. He had spent all day flying circles around the joint Atlas-Vale camp and tried to communicate with the ravens and crows in the area but all he heard from them was that coconuts were in season.
Qrow may not be a biologist but he was sure that coconuts grow in a tropical zone while Albion was distinctly in a temperate one. However, nighttime was upon him with an accompanying fog that obscured the moon that would otherwise guide his way. He would have to sleep on a branch in his crow form to pass the night. That was the plan if it weren't for a magnificent glowing light in the shape of a chalice.
This got to be a trap...Qrow cursed as he flew closer before transforming back into a human. The source has got to be within the castle. He wondered if the Atlesian stuck-ups or his nieces would see this golden chalice; it's practically a beacon begging for anyone to come here. Here goes nothing… the Huntsman grumbled in his thoughts as he knocked on the wooden door.
"Hey! Anyone in there? Open up!" He rapt against the wood most impatiently with his scared fist.
The door cracked upon and it took every ounce of control for him to not whip out Harbringer as three women greeted him.
"Hello!"
"Hello!"
"Hello!"
"I am Zoot!" The first woman introduced herself, "Welcome, kind vagabond, to the Castle Anthrax!"
"Anthrax?" Qrow asked suspiciously. These are very strange names for him to listen to somber.
"Yes…" Zoot pouted, feeling just as disappointed in the name. "It's not a very good name, is it?"
"It's not the worst." Qrow huffed as he entered the castle, still wary of an ambush.
"Oh, but don't worry," Zoot assures him. "But we are nice! And we will attend to your every, every need!"
"Okaaay." The veteran huntsman accepted, feeling a bit more suspicious. "I take it you girls are the ones that lit up that beacon? The one in the shape of a cup or chalice-thing?"
"The what?" The woman seemed confused and embarrassed for not having a good explanation.
"The light!" Qrow huffed, placing his hands on his hips. "It brought me here! Don't you know your own...castle?"
"Ummm... Oh!" Zoot was surprised by his insistence before she turned around to call out some names. "Midget! Creeper! Prepare a bed for our guest!"
"Yes, Sir Zoot!" A couple of female voices replied, sounding almost younger than Zoot as the women appeared at the end of the hall wearing similar white dresses as the apparent hostess.
"Wha-" Qrow was startled, they looked almost identical to one another and that didn't wasn't as confusing as their names. Zoot? Midget? Creeper? Who the hell named them?
"Don't worry! You had a long journey from a faraway place and must rest for a while now that you're here." Zoot turned to the girls once more. "Prepare a bed for our guest."
"Yes, Sir Zoot. Thank you, Sir Zoot! Thank you, Sir Zoot! Thank you-"
"Away, Away, vile etessence!" She ordered them to immediately attend to their new duties. "The beds here are warm and soft...And very, very big."
"Look, ma'am...you don't have to accommodate me…" The huntsman protested, not wanting to take advantage of their generosity. "I can camp -."
"What's your name, handsome?" Zoot interrupted, getting awfully close to Qrow.
"Uh...Qrow, Qrow Brawen." He answered awkwardly.
"My name is Zoot, just Zoot" She beamed before all of a sudden as she took Qrow's hand and led him up a flight of stairs.
"I don't want to be rude here…" Qrow warned as he reluctantly followed Zoot. "But I really shouldn't be disturbing you and your friends here."
"Fret not!" The woman in white assures, "You're safe here. You've been acting delirious since you've arrived at the door."
"What?" He said, thinking back to his first impression of the castle. Is she gaslighting me? "Listen, I really should go..."
"Sir Qrow!" Zoot chastises the huntsman. "You would not be so unchivalrous of a knight as to refuse our hospitality!"
"First of all, lady!" Qrow retorted, feeling a bit frustrated. "I'm not a knight!"
"Beg pardon?" Zoot stops to glare back at him in surprise. "Then who are you if not a knight?"
"I'm a huntsman."
"A hunter?"
"A huntsman!"
"Are they not the same?"
"Well...look...you've heard of Grimm, right?"
"Afraid not...sounds frightening." Zoot shuddered, "Oh... I'm afraid our life must seem very dull and quiet compared to yours. We are but eight score young blondes and brunettes...all between sixteen and 19-and-a-half...cut off in this castle with no one to protect us! Oh... it is a lonely life. Bathing...dressing...undressing...knitting exciting underwear...We are just not used to handsome knights...or huntsmen like you!"
Qrow looked like a deer of headlights when she told him there were eight scores of young girls living alone in this keep, some as young as his niece Ruby. There's that many?!
No protection, no guardians, simply vulnerable to whatever stranger harboring ill intent towards these-
"We're virgins by the way..."
Qrow thought to himself to immediately contact Winter or one of the professors and lead them to this location. He doesn't know who put them here for whatever reason but that doesn't matter. He needs to get them a much safer home.
So why did he end up on the bed again with Harbringer at the foot of the bed? The huntsman shook out of his thoughts when Zoot was being too touchy with his shirt.
"Hey-Hey, watch the shirt!" he hissed as he grabbed her wrists.
"But sir!" she protested most fervently, "You are clearly tired from your journey! Your body is exhausted! This requires a medical examination from our resident doctors!"
By clapping her hands, Zoot summoned two sixteen-year old girls into the room.
"What seems to be the problem?" one of the maidens asked.
"Wha-They're DOCTORS?" Qrow couldn't believe his eyes. Even Ruby didn't get her huntress license when she graduated at the top of her class.
"Uh...they have a basic medical training...yes," Zoot confirms. "Doctor Winston, Doctor Piglet, practice your art!"
"Doctor Piglet?" The huntsman sputtered as the two girls sat down on the bed and undo his shirt, exposing his muscular abs and virile chest hair. Unfortunately, Zoot already left the room to attend to other affairs leaving him paralyzed in this situation.
"Listen girls...you don't have to do this…" he told the "doctors", trying not to be too rough in removing their hands from feeling his chest. This could easily destroy his reputation if word of this gets out. "I'm perfectly fine-!"
No sooner did he force them to withdraw from him, the two teens immediately dove back in, this time unbuckling his belt with great gusto. Good thing Raven wasn't here to mock his vulnerability when his pants were pulled down to his ankles, exposing a tent in his underwear.
"Worry not." Sir Piglet comforted the disturbed huntsman, licking her lips seductively, "We must examine you...your pride must be soothed…"
"Please," Sir Winston grinned, "We are doctors…"
"Okay! Fuck this!" Qrow shouted, backhanding Sir Piglet before slapping Sir Winston off the bed. "I'm leaving!"
With one hand on his trousers and the other on Harbringer, Branwen, half-ran half-hobbled his way out of the room. Passing through a curtain, he ended up in a room packed to the brim with young women in their nightclothes ranging from 16 to 19 and a half years old. Some were brushing their hair while others were eating fruits very erotically but when they saw Qrow, almost all of them smiled and whispered hello. Noticing his pants were still not secure on his waists, he realized where the teens and young adults were staring at.
"Nope!" he shouted before turning and running towards the nearby castle window. Qrow immediately transformed into a bird and flew away from Castle Anthrax. Just behind him, the voice of Zoot reached his ears:
"ARE YOU GAY?!"
Making a mental note to himself, Professor Port needs to be 100 miles away from this castle.
At the next daybreak, Qrow flew out from the tree he was resting on to scour the countryside once more. Hopefully, there won't be another Castle Anthrax for him to stumble onto. Gods, he does not want Glynda whipping his ass with her riding crop if she heard the story. But with a mountain approaching up ahead, maybe he'll find Grimm there. Certainly better than mingling with underage girls eyeing his dick like it's a bar of gold.
But his thoughts were interrupted when a ball of flame exploded him out of the air and back into human form. Thankfully, his aura prevented any permanent damage to his body or clothes. Qrow cursed to himself, disoriented and bewildered, wondering who or what would shoot fire at a crow. He got his answer when he looked up and saw an elderly man with goat horns growing on his head and a wooden staff.
"Are-Are you a faunus?" The veteran huntsman groaned.
"A Faunus?" The old man spoke, confused by the term. His voice was both ancient and raspy. 'I am no faunus!"
"Then who the hell are you?!"
"I'm an enchanter!" He pointed his fingers in three different areas, causing balls of fire to explode in rapid succession
"Nice pyrotechnics..." Qrow applauded sarcastically as he got off the rocky ground. "No seriously, who are you?"
"There are some who call me…" The enchanter announced, "Tim?"
"Tim?"
"Tim."
"You sure?" Qrow raised an eyebrow.
"...Yes." He answered more confidently, "I am Tim the Enchanter."
"Are you a faunus?"
"A what?"
"A Faunus! You know, people with animal traits like your goat horns!" The huntsman pointed at the horns on the wizard's head.
"Oh, those? That's part of my hat. It helps make me feel more 'enchanter' like." Tim pointed his staff at a growing tree and before Qrow's very eyes, it burst into a magnificent ball of flame.
"What the…" He could not believe it. It can't be. Surely not?
'What fancy gadgets did you get there? Is that your semblance?"
"Gadgets? Semblance?" Tim scoffed, "No! This is magic! I have studied the arts of Pyromancy! I am the master of Spontanea Combustione!"
"What?"
"Spontanea Combustione!" The sorcerer repeated, "It's one of the more undervalued studies yet the most entertaining." He pointed his finger at a bush growing on the edge of the cliff. That burst into flames in an instant.
Oz is not going to believe this… Qrow thought to himself.
"Ummm, Tim?"
"Yes, stranger?"
"I'm Qrow by the way but-"
"Well acquainted Qrow, I'm Tim the Enchanter, and I see you are a foreigner in these lands."
"Well yes." The huntsman confirmed, "I'm an explorer really. That's why I was flying around-wait, are you the one that almost burned me out of the sky?!'
"Yes!" Tim smiled faintly.
"Why?"
"Because…"
"Because what?!" Qrow demanded, feeling really irritated about being set on fire at a whim.
"I sense magic on you." The wizard explained, resting on his staff. "Are you not an apprentice to master the lore of Beasts? Hence your shapeshifting ability? The magic one you are strong but not strong enough for someone of your age. Who's your master?"
"Oh shit…" Qrow mumbled to himself, Ozpin would want to see this guy immediately.
"Shit?" Tim inquired, "Do you not have a master?"
"I do!" Qrow corrected, "Say, do you want to meet him?"
The enchanter stroked his long goatee beard. After a few moments, he seemed receptive.
"Very well, I shall meet your master!"
"Well, great! I'll just go back and-"
"Have no fear! We'll take my magic carpet!"
"Your what?!" Qrow shouted, his eyes large as dinner plates when Tim the Enchanter unrolled a massive rug that looked similar to a carpet made in Vacuo. It floated four feet off the ground with the wizard sitting in the center.
"Well, get in, Qrow! Heh, Qrow the Crow…good name."