Much to do, Much to do
Of all the things Professor Port and Professor Oobleck expected from Team RWBY and JNPR to bring back from their little scouting trip, an entourage of smelly middle-aged men dressed in antique mail armor and equipped with simple swords and shields. While it was certainly intriguing that the language barrier was only subtle in the thick accents of the medieval warriors and camp followers, it was clear to the two educators of Beacon that this island has been isolated from modern technology for way too long.
It wasn't their fascination with students' scrolls, nor were they intimidated by their weapons, that tipped Professor Oobleck off. It was their undying curiosity of his own glasses. The knights, King Arthur, their servants, and the accompanying clergy led by Brother Maynard, as they introduced themselves to the teachers, had clearly never heard nor seen what bifocals were. In fact, a lot of mundane things in modern society seem to have bewildered the natives.
For the two professors, it was an unbelievably good stroke of luck that they have just encountered a head of state of a society inhabiting Albion and so far, the way King Arthur carried himself, it seems like he was the only royal sovereign on this island. Thank goodness Atlas did not find him first. Negotiations would definitely be more amicable with Ozpin taking the lead. Both Port and Oobleck have the confidence that this expedition can end early now that there is irrefutable evidence of a nation-state in Albion.
The next obvious step was to inform the students except they were too busy doing some explanations…
"So what is a Faunus exactly? I fear I do not understand." Sir Bedievere asked, looking genuinely confused at Blake's version of Faunus history.
"I've been explaining it for the past two hours!" The cat Faunus groaned. Her face was buried in her hands after being burned out from giving such an impromptu history lesson.
"How can Faunus not be considered human?" The knight pressed on, "It seems rather strange that when a Faunus talks like a human, walks like a human, and smells filthy like a human, yet they are considered a separate race."
"Do satyrs and centaurs exist then?" Sir Galahad chirped in.
"For the last time, no!" Yang replied, much to the young warrior's disappointment.
"Jesus Christ! Sir Lancelot, come look inside this strange-looking chest!" King Arthur pointed at the plastic lunch container. Like approaching a viper's nest, the royal carefully reached his armored hand inside the container and slowly drew out two small packets. One was labeled "Salt" while the other was "Black Pepper."
"This cannot be!" Sir Lancelot gasped when he saw that he could read the labels.
"Salt and pepper?" Ruby looked over King Arthur's shoulder. "What's so special about them?"
"Special? SPECIAL?" The sovereign looked up to the red huntress, "My lady, do you know how expensive it is to obtain salt?! How expensive is it to acquire pepper spices?!"
"Ummmm…" Ruby shrugged.
"VERY expensive." He emphasized as he stared at the two packets like they were gold nuggets.
"Entire wars have been waged to secure the trade routes, my lady! To prevent a monopoly of tariffs and tolls enacted by the perfidious heathens that control the Silk Road!"
"Uhh...Silk Road?" She tried to remember if Professor Oobleck mentioned it in one of his lessons.
"It's a far est trade route." Sir Lancelot explained. "All the spices come from that way."
"What a fascinating object." Brother Maynard mumbled as he fiddled with one of Pyrrha's rifle bullets. He has never seen a projectile like this throughout his life as a clergyman. "Who named this to be called a 'bullet'?"
Pyrrha shrugged. "I do not know who invented the term in particular...it's just a name."
"How peculiar..." The priest was flabbergasted by this kind of ammunition. "Do you know how it works? How is it made? Do you throw it?"
The amazon shook her head as she chuckled at Brother Maynard's last comment. "It's not meant to be thrown. It's meant to be fired from a gun."
"A gun…" he repeated. "I'll have to acquire a 'gun' to present to my brethren in the Church. An item such as this must be analyzed before being included in the Book of Armaments."
"Book of Armaments?" Nora inquired, sitting cross-legged near the campfire. "Is it a fairytale book about guns and bombs?"
"Not exactly." Brother Maynard politely corrected, "It's a sacred text of our religion. The holy scripture of all the weapons created by God to be used righteously against his foes. It's no fairytale at all."
"Oh," The ginger bomber sighs, "So no bombs then?"
"Of course we have bombs." He replied, "One such righteous explosive is the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch." As soon as Brother Maynard finished speaking, the bombardier hounded him with more excitement than usual. The rest of team JNPR haven't seen Nora this joyful before.
"OH PLEASE OH PLEASE, I WANT TO SEE IT!" she begged.
"What, no!" Brother Maynard denied, "It's not meant to be gawked at. It's a weapon that must be contained and revered until the right target shows up."
"Do you have a picture instead?" Jaune asks, also curious about this holy hand grenade. "You said it was from Antioch, what is that place? I never heard of it."
"Ah, fear not, young sir." The clergyman smiled, "I'll be glad to share with you the story of one of our holiest cities! As for you, Lady Nora, I can redirect you to the Chapter of Ordinance in which there is a drawing of the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch."
"...And that's how I end up studying at Beacon, to give some distance between my overbearing father and myself." Weiss Schnee included her life story to Sir Robin. No matter how many times she retells it, it always lifts the dreadful weight off her shoulders.
"So, how inspired you to become a knight?"
"Always been one." Sir Robin answered, treating his response as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Always?" The heiress raised an eyebrow, "No other ambitions? Nothing at all?"
"Always." He answered truthfully, "I really don't have a backstory to share."
"You don't?" She pressed, feeling incredulous.
"No." The knight shook his head, "I am and will always be Sir Robin."
"Really?" Weiss remarked in disbelief.
"God said so." Sir Robin explained, "You can't argue with God, unless you're Moses."
Up until this point, Qrow thought he saw everything. Over the decades serving under Ozpin, he traveled to the four corners of Remnant, got drunk in every bar, and fought Grimm that were once thought to be legends. He lived simple lives as a rogue, a crusader, and a bounty hunter but nothing, nothing in his entire career prepared him for this moment. So fantastical that Qrow drank his entire flask dry of his alcohol.
A rolled-out carpet, measuring five feet wide and seven feet long, floating four feet off the ground. The edges wiggling around like fins on a sea slug. It has to be a hoax. A very elaborate one. But no matter how many times the huntsman walked around the magic carpet, he could not spot any strings nor signs of suspicious devices. This is so bizarre. He has no idea how this even works!
"Are you done being mesmerized?" Tim questions impatiently as he sits cross-legged at the center of the rug. "You look like you've never seen a magic carpet."
Stunned into silence, Qrow stopped his pacing and finally studied the floating carpet. It reminded him of the rugs sold in Vacuo but the design and the color palette were truly one of a kind. As if it was a relic of a long-forgotten civilization lost to the pages of history. A clash of red, purple, blue, and yellow with images of legendary beasts clawing at the edges of the rug while spectacular shapes and stars made up the center.
"I can't...reach it." The raven-haired man mumbled as he stared awkwardly at the magician.
"Oh, silly me…" Tim mentally facepalmed, "Let's fix that."
Once again, Qrow's mind was blown away at how smoothly the carpet softly descended until it was floating four inches off the ground.
"Well come on then!" The wizard insisted, eventually encouraging the huntsman to take his first step onto the magic rug.
What a surreal experience. As flowy as water but as firm as wood. The weirdest sensation of standing on something so flexible yet sturdy as his boot held firmly in place as he brought his other foot forward.
"Make yourself comfortable," Tim said when Qrow sat behind him. "Now, where does your master reside?"
"Ummmm...Beacon Academy, Kingdom of Vale," he answered, wondering if there was a tassel to grab onto.
"You hear that, magic carpet?" Tim asked his rug. "Take us to Beacon Academy."
When the magic carpet started flying forwards, Qrow immediately sucked in his breath and closed his eyes in preparation for being thrown off.
Except he didn't. When he opened his eyes, he saw that they were flying as gracefully as swans through the air and high into the clouds. As a bird, Qrow would feel the wind on his feathers but to experience it in human form, his true form, it was simply awe-inspiring. Stretching his hand above his head, the huntsman touched the clouds and felt something wet and light. How amazing.
"So...Tim"
"Master Tim, I am not a novice anymore."
"Right, Master Tim," Qrow corrected, "How fast are we going?"
"Hmmm. A leisure pace I estimate." Tim replied.
"Can it go any faster? I can still see the mountain we left behind us."
"I'm not sure." The wizard stroked his beard, "Magic carpet! Take us to Beacon Academy quickly!"
Within the second, the enchanted rug shot forward like a bullet from a gun, causing the two men to tumble over each other and fall overboard from the sheer whiplash of the massive acceleration. By the time it became a dot in the sky, Qrow and Tim were falling to their certain doom with the forest below becoming their grave.
"I'M NOT A PRACTITIONER OF WILD MAGIC!" Tim screeched as he stretched his hands to the heavens as his magic staff was free-falling next to him.
Me and my big mouth. Qrow thought bitterly as he quickly transformed into a bird to control his descent. Upon landing on a branch near the potential splatter zone of Tim, the huntsman quickly resumed his human form to jump from the tree and catch the falling wizard. For an old man, he sure felt heavy in Qrow's arms as they both landed in a bush.
"Uncle Qrow?" a familiar voice reached his ears as the veteran rolled out of the branches and brushed the leaves off his clothes.
BONK!
"Holy…!"
"Is he dead?"
"Where did that staff come from?"
"Praise the Lord, it's only a concussion!"
Glancing in the direction where the commotion was, Qrow spotted team JNPR and (R) WBY huddled around someone while a person dressed in clergy attire was examining Tim's magic staff. The object fell on a squire belonging to one of the knights. A massive bump on his forehead can be seen even from Qrow's position.
"Uncle Qrow? What are you doing here?" Ruby asked as she looked over her former teacher and the strange bearded man with an equally strange hat that was struggling to get up.
"Heh...I can explain later, kid." The huntsman smiled sheepishly as he locked eyes with Professor Oobleck and Port. It seems they weren't informed of his secret mission. "Got something to drink? Something strong?"
Meanwhile
Beacon Academy, Ozpin's Office
"Do you think the students are handling themselves well over there in Albion?" Glynda Goodwitch confined her worries to Headmaster Ozpin. The two teachers were relaxing side by side high up in the clock tower to get away from the burdens of being a lecturer.
"Relax, Glynda." Ozpin smiled behind his sixth cup of coffee, "With Port and Oobleck with them as well as Specialist Winter Schnee, the JNPR and RWBY are more than capable enough to explore the unknown, no matter how treacherous it may be."
"True." She nodded, "But it's not that."
"Oh?"
"Just...it's," Glynda sighs, "It's hard to explain what I'm feeling right now. Dread? Excitement? Both?"
"I understand perfectly well." Ozpin sipped on his mug as he stared at the clouds outside his window. "The voyage into the unknown. Finding new medicines, unearthing old artifacts, and discovering new monsters. It's fascinating to think about."
"I can't imagine how happy Professor Port and Oobleck are right now." Glynda mused, "Port finally gets out of his stuffy office and relives his glory days while Oobleck is recording everything that his five senses could tell him. The treasures that come from Albion would be like-"
"A magic carpet flying in the sky." Ozpin sounded bemused.
"Beg pardon?" The professor looked up.
The headmaster simply pointed outside. Much to her own bewilderment, there was in fact a carpet flying straight towards them.
Glynda immediately activated her semblance and formed a barrier to protect herself and Ozpin when the carpet crashed through the window, sending a thousand shards at the two teachers, before flattening itself on the floor. Immovable as if it was a natural addition in the clock tower.
"Where did that come from?" She stared at the headmaster, who only regarded the rug with mild amusement. "Is this a trap? From…."
"No, Glynda, not her" Ozpin assures her. "Though, this inspires some fond memories."
The female professor scowled.
"No, I'm referring to the time I used your ringlets as my cup holder for my coffee."
Author's notes:
This certainly took a long time to finish. Had a family emergency, got new owners for a company I work at. Things had gotten busy. I'll try to continue this when I can. This was really fun to write and explore.