Welcome back everybody for the beginning of another story arc! Woo!
As always, thank you Hellbreaker, Baoh joestar, Shaded Azure and VergilXSparda for the reviews!
As VergilXSparda noted, Sinbad Queen is a really odd name for a character, going against RWBY's naming rule and everything. Usually I try my best to adhere to the rule, I really do. But other times I throw together something in reference to something else.
That is not the case for The Sentinel. In my story bible where I got all the plots and stuff for The Darkling Thrush, I never named The Sentinel, just had his title and everything, so I threw random names and words together when I wrote the chapter that first named him back in the Nebula arc. And I've just been going with it ever since. So I hope that clears up some things.
Anyways, on with the story.
LI
Tears of Venezier: Part 1
"What's so special about a town called Venezier?" Dove had asked.
A hundred miles north of Oakwood, Russel was familiar with their destination. Though, never actually travelling to it himself, he'd heard the stories and read the old books of the territory from the local library.
Founded some two hundred years prior, Venezier started off as a mining town, where settlers happened to stumble across a Dust deposit. A century later, the mines began to dry. The settlers moved North, following the veins and reached the coast and soon enough the game changed, no longer were they digging for Dust, but setting up a trading post and port. It was a good run for a while then, until the War. After that, as Russel recalled, the town of Venezier was turned into a military outpost, where the Valean military plotted their naval assaults against Mistrailian invaders.
When the war ended, Venezier went through another metamorphosis. Vale no longer needed a standing army after the Treaty, so the town dried up and all military assets were moved to the capitol. The town gained notoriety from its unusually calm seas, where at night, in the dark, the water reflected the overhead sky as if you were sailing through a sea of stars and was now nothing more than a tourist trap.
It wasn't the biggest town within Vale's borders, but it sure wasn't the smallest. Where modern marvels such as the City of Vale eclipsed all others, Venezier was considered to be nothing more than a port used to offload goods for the Eastern villages. But with the recent collapse of the greater city, the once lowly town was now one of the grander settlements around.
Horses galloped across uneven roads leaving dust trails in their wake as four newly minted Huntsmen journeyed to the town ahead, unsure of what awaited them. There was so much uncertainty since Vale's fall, since Cinder and her cabal kicked their teeth in and left them festering like rats, scrounging for resources to keep the lights on.
But out here, under clear open air and a hot yellow sun, riding into town, it didn't feel that way anymore. They had purpose, they had a mission and it was one Russel and Dove were glad to carry out: to locate their missing teammate Sky Lark.
For all their candor and relief to learn that their friend had survived the Fall of Vale, a weight hungover the collective of gathered Huntsmen. Goodwitch had merely explained that Sky had been assigned a mission on Ozpin's orders prior to the attack, other than that she'd left the completely in the dark about the specifics. What he was doing in Venezier was a mystery, and what that mean for them was also a mystery. But that was alright with them, all they needed to know was that he was alive and well.
The four Huntsmen rode their steeds across a dusty plain, skimming the outer edges of the town before finally coming to a rest upon a hill. Dismounting from his horse, Russel walked to the very top of the hill, reaching out and accepting a pair of binoculars from the team's designated leader Danny Matchstick.
Russel had known Danny as long as he'd known Dove and the rest of Team CRDL, first meeting him out in the Emerald Forest in fact. They'd kept things amicable during their days at Beacon, but never truly got to know the other outside of the once and a while game of blackjack. It hadn't been until recent that the Thrush gained a greater understanding for the DNCE leader, but that didn't necessarily make things any better, seeing that they're only commonality was they were both willing to kill a couple of guys before they could plunge what remained of Vale into another war.
But seeing as this was their first mission as full-fledged Huntsmen, Russel was content with having Danny call the shots. At least he knew the guy was handy with a gun.
With the pair of binoculars in his hands, the green haired man stepped up and proceeded to scope out the goings on within the town. Though there was reasonable doubt that Venezier along with the other villages had been unaffected by the collapse in worldwide communication, it was best to be careful lest they run into any unforeseen trouble such as an angry anarchistic mob or run into a horde of Grimm.
"We've got activity," Russel announced, spotting a number of people walking through the town's streets through his pair of binoculars.
"They ain't White Fang are they?" Marie-Anne asked, still atop her horse.
"Negative." Russel said, turning slowly to peer across the town's square, looking over every individual he could spot. "Not a Faunus around in fact."
"Is that odd?" Dove asked, raising a brow.
"When was the last time you visited a place with no Faunus?" Russel questioned as he continued to view the town and its people from afar.
"Oakwood didn't have a Faunus population," Marie-Anne said, recalling her shared youth with Russel, growing up in the backwater town of Oakwood. "Not exactly something to get worked up on."
"Oakwood is rural farmland where retired Huntsmen go to die," The Thrush countered as he continued to scan the area, spotting what appeared to be a local saloon. "This place has a port, they trade goods here. There should be a variety of people walking about."
"A lot can happen in nine days," Danny spoke in a grim knowing tone. "Anyways, we've got a job to do. Anything else you can spot for us, Russel?" The former DNCE leader asked, turning to the Thrush once more.
"I've got eyes on the local watering hole." Russel announced, eyeing the saloon near the center of town square.
"Last time I checked, the legal age for drinking was still twenty-one." Marie-Anne pipped up.
"Sure it is, but I bet there's some poor sod down there we can ask for directions to find Sky, or whoever this other 'Kevin' is," Russel said, recalling their secondary objective, to link up with some sort of local informant that Goodwitch had informed them about. For a moment, Russel thought about the Kevin he knew, some strange fellow who appeared to live a double life who provided goods ranging from high power fireworks, the occasional fake I.D. and even the plans to a night club or two. It was a real shame that the son of a gun turned up dead.
"What's the verdict then? Is it safe?" Danny asked, looking to Russel for his own personal assessment of the town.
Russel paused for a moment, thinking the question over as he looked over the town once more. There wasn't very many people walking around, and by the looks of things the ones up and about appeared to be keeping to themselves and that didn't quite sit right with Russel. But for the most part, nobody exactly appeared to be confrontational. "I've got some reservations," He bit his lip, making the call. "But yeah, we shouldn't have any issues."
"Alright then," Danny threw a hand forward and pointed to the town. "We're going in."
Russel mounted his horse without delay, then the four Huntsmen galloped down the hill heading straight into town. The locals, who had seemed complacent with their undisturbed privacy, looked onward, watching them pass on by, staring at the newcomers with quiet anticipation.
Reaching the local saloon, the Huntsmen dismounted from their steeds, grabbing the reins and tying them to a nearby post. Glancing around to their immediate surroundings, the makeshift quartet met the locals' gazes, unsure how to interpret the reception. Just as they prepared to enter the saloon, out of the on looking crowds, a trio of men wearing similar red and brown clothing stepped forward, making their across the square and beaming towards the Huntsmen.
"Who you think they are?" The man leading the trio asked aloud to his cohorts, quickly catching the Huntsmen's attention.
"Look a little lost I think," One of the man's number spoke, chuckling to himself. "Also look a lot like pigs too, heh."
"I thought you said it was clear." Marie-Anne's darted towards Russel, an accusing look on her face.
The Thrush gave an indifferent shrug. "I also said I had reservations." He muttered as he began to size up the approaching trio, assessing whether or not they posed any real threat. But by the looks of the darkened 'B' in the shape of a rooster embroidered onto the front of their shirts, Russel was willing to bet they weren't just some nosy dock workers.
"Hey! Horseback!" The man at the head of the trio shouted towards them while his associates laughed.
"You mean us?" Dove asked dumbly, completely off put by the informality.
"'You mean us?' Do we mean them? Ha!" The leader and his companions shared a laugh as the closed the distance fully. "So what you fellas doing riding on horses, eh?" The leader questioned in a manner akin to an interrogator. "You ain't none of them technophobes are you?"
"Would you believe it was because the bus was out of order?" Danny said, quickly earning the trio's attention, as well as the rest of the team's. The former DNCE leader flashed a smile, one that Russel and the rest of the team recognized as a façade, best to keep things peaceful.
"Out of order? You hear that? They say the bus was out of order?" The leader turned to his companions once again, this time bursting out in a mocking laugh. "Heh, off the beaten track you must be, eh?" He said, his tone quickly turning dark and his expression souring. "But seriously, assuming you wanna keep from getting your legs broken, you'll tell us why you're here."
"Just passing through." Danny said, holding that smile of his in place.
"'Passing through' he says!" The leader of the trio laughed. "Eh, alright, 'keep on passing through' then, yes? But if you start some shit, we'll fuck you up."
"Wouldn't dream of starting anything." Danny continued to smile.
"You trying to be funny?!" The man to the leader's left shouted and drew a blade. He took a step forward towards Danny and raised the knife towards him. "I'll cut that fuckin' smile off your face!"
By the time the knife was drawn, Russel and the rest of the team were racing to draw their own weapons, aiming to back up Danny. Reaching into his left pocket, the Thrush produced his pocket knife and prepared to leap forward and intercept the knife wielding man, only to stop at the sight of Danny holding a gun to the man's forehead. The trio of red and black clad men froze as one of their number found themselves staring down the sights of one of Danny's handguns. With another swift blink and you'll miss it motion, the DNCE leader drew his other sidearm and leveled it at the other pair of men.
The DNCE leader gave a look over his shoulders to his makeshift team and nodded to their drawn weapons. Understanding that their designated leader had the situation under control, Russel, along with Dove and Marie-Anne holstered their weapons and watched with anticipation at how Danny planned to deal with the men.
"I don't think we're the type of people you'd like to start any shit with." Danny said, looking past his weapon and staring into the knife wielding man's eyes.
If Danny had shot the man then and there, Russel wouldn't have been surprised. He knew the lengths the DNCE leader was willing to go, if these men were even possible of further hindering their mission, he knew Danny wouldn't hesitate. But Danny kept his cool and shoved the man back with the front of his gun.
"I think it would be best if you three ran off." Danny spoke in a cold almost detached tone, still maintaining eye contact with the man he'd first pulled the gun on. Without a word, the trio of men ran, sprinting as fast as their legs could carry them. "Pleasant bunch of people living here." Danny muttered dryly before turning and walking for the saloon.
"'We shouldn't have any issues', he said," Marie-Anne echoed Russel's prior assessment of the town before following after Danny into the saloon.
"Oh piss off." Russel muttered before joining his fellow Huntsmen.
Stepping into the saloon, Russel was greeted by the distinct aroma of sawdust and smoke. The establishment was dimly lit with the only true source of light coming from the sun piercing through the windows. There were several tables at the center of the room, but it appeared they'd all been taken by men and women all wearing similar black and red outfits as the trio of men who'd just confronted them outside and along the walls were a number of quaint little booths large enough to fit four and no more.
Far off to the side in one of the corners of the room, Russel could spot a helmeted fellow. Given the current lighting, the Thrush couldn't quite make out the individual lurking in the darkness, but he could make out the distinct form of horns that adorned his helmet, one appearing cracked and another intact. The figure sitting alone glanced up and unlike the others who reveled with drink, he stared through cold lenses at the quartet like a predator waiting for its prey to slip up and make a fatal mistake.
"Dove?" Danny looked to the youngest of their team. "Be a pal and grab us a booth, would you?" He nodded off over to the side away from the prying eyes of nearby patrons. Dove gave nod and splintered off from the rest as they approached the bartender behind the counter.
"Afternoon." Russel gave a wave to the Barkeep, getting the man's attention.
The Bartender, an older man somewhere in his mid-seventies squinted at the sight of Russel, Danny and Marie-Anne, almost doing a double take. "You three look a little young to be drinking."
"Not here to buy a round," Danny spoke up as Marie-Anne fetched a wallet with the Valean council's seal from her pocket, handing it off to her fellow DNCE teammate. "In the business of purchasing information." Danny smiled as he retrieved a twenty lien note, placing it firmly onto the counter.
The Bartender stared at the note for a moment, then looked from one Huntsman to another before cautiously taking the currency and dragging it to his side of the counter. "What kind of information?" He asked.
"Whereabouts." Russel stated, earning an odd look from the Barkeep.
"You three are too young to be Huntsmen…You're not one of them Bounty Hunter types, are you?" The Bartender asked, looking to all three of the Huntsmen.
"Does it matter?" Marie-Anne questioned.
The Bartender looked at the lien note again. "I guess it doesn't." He shrugged. "Who you looking for?"
"A friend of mine," Russel spoke up once more, taking point on the conversation. "Goes by the name Sky Lark, silverfish blue hair, may or may not be carrying a huge ass halberd."
A thoughtful look graced the Bartender's features as the man fell silent, attempting to recall anyone matching the description Russel had given. "I can't say I've seen such an individual 'round these parts." He said, frowning slightly.
"You sure about that?" Russel raised a brow.
"Sadly, I am." The Bartender sighed as he watched Russel drag the twenty lien out of view and discretely handing it off to Danny.
"Fine, we're looking for someone else also," Danny said, taking the currency note from Russel and placing it back onto the table, piquing the Bartender's interest once more. "We don't have a description for him, but we've got a name."
"And that would be?" The Bartender asked as he reached out for the note.
"Kevin." Danny uttered Goodwitch's informant's name.
However, the once hungry look on the Bartender's face dissipated, turning to one of fear. "I-I-I," The old man stuttered incoherently before finally regaining his ability to form words. "I'm afraid I don't know anybody by that name." He withdrew his hand from the twenty, almost taking a step back away from the counter as well.
"That a fact?" Russel's inquired as he watched the old man trip over himself behind the counter. In an instant the man had gone from willing informant to frightened child, all at the mention of a name.
"Yes," The Bartender stated, his eyes darting away from the trio present at the counter and look off to the room full of black and red clothed men and women behind them. "That's a fact."
"You sure about that?" Russel leaned forward, catching the Bartender's eye.
"I don't know a Kevin."
"Really?" The Thrush scoffed. "I think you're lying. I think you do know Kevin."
"I said I don't know a Kevin!" The bartender shouted at the top of his lungs. He then aimed to begin berating the trio about civility and manners, the kind they clearly did not possess, but before he could lash out in anger, he froze in place at the realization that now all eyes within the saloon were now aimed at the bar and the lowly Barkeep.
The jollity and reveling of the men and women had been replaced by a cold and eerie silence that mildly disturbed the Huntsmen. They looked to the Bartender for an explanation, but found the old man slinkining off to the side of the bar, under the scrutiny of his patrons.
"Rather heated up in here today, huh Bartender?" A voice called out from the front of the saloon. Stepping through the doorway was blonde haired man wearing a white sleeveless shirt, putting his muscular arms out on display for all to see. He wore blue jeans dirty from the daily grind and most peculiar, he wore a pair of goggles that adorned the top of his head. "Everything alright?" He said, turning his attention to the trio.
Out of the corner of Russel's eyes, he could see the Barkeep quake as he attempted to go unnoticed by the Sheriff. There was a fearful look that graced the old man's features, one spoke volumes of the lawman in this town. The longer the Thrush spent in this town, the more he became unsettled by it. Averting his gaze back to the goggle wearing man, he opened his mouth to speak. "Can we help you?" He asked, his voice low though doing his best to keep things civil.
"No, the question is, how can I help you?" The man said as he made his way to the counter. "The name's Brussels, I'm Sheriff of these parts and I can't help but notice a couple of strangers making a scene in my town." He puffed out his chest a jabbed a thumb against it. "Just got word three of my guys got into an altercation and their lives were threatened, can't have that goin' on here."
It was a reflexive move, for Russel to turn his gaze ever so slightly out to the corner of his eye at Danny. He thought back to how he'd beaten the rest of them to drawing their weapons and handled the situation with the three men, no doubt the incident the Sheriff referred to. But, when in doubt, deny, deny.
"Altercation, this is the first I've heard of any altercation," Russel said, playing dumb. The Thrush then turned to Danny and pointed to Brussels. "You got any idea what this man;s talking about?"
"I haven't the faintest of ideas." Danny shrugged.
"You got an idea what this guy's talking about?" Russel glanced over to Marie-Anne.
"Not a damn clue." Marie-Anne shook her head.
The Thrush then turned to the quivering Bartender who was now failing to hide behind his counter. "Hey, Barkeep, you got any idea of what the Sheriff's talking about?" He asked, earning a fearful shake of the Bartender's head in response.
"Heh, smartass." Brussel's scoffed in an approving manner before taking to lean against the counter and tapped on the decades old wood. "Hit me, Bartender." He said, not even looking to the Barkeep. The Bartender shakenly ducked behind the counter, pulling out a black bottle of whiskey and pouring the Sheriff a shot before ducking behind the counter once again, leaving the bottle for Brussels to take.
"So what brings you fellas all the way to Venezier?" Brussels asked before downing the shot in one go. "And don't play dumb on this one either, I know you ain't local." He said, directing his attention towards Russel.
Russel exchanged a glance with Danny, who gave him an approving nod to run point on the Sheriff's question. "Just lookin' for someone." Russel spoke truthfully, though yielding any more pertinent details.
Though they were still within the Kingdom of Vale, they were strangers in a strange land, and people have already threatened them. With the safety of the team and their mission in mind, Russel had more than enough incentive to not trust the supposed lawman standing in front of him. The less Brussels knew the better.
"Isn't everyone?" The Sheriff, Brussels, turned to Marie-Anne and winked. Marie-Anne's eyes widened slightly before her features shifted into a scowl. "Whoa now, no need to start a ruckus," He held his hands out defensively. "Just being polite is all."
"Yeah, sure," Marie-Anne rolled her eyes.
"So you say you're looking for someone?" Brussels raised a brow.
"What's it to you?" Russel questioned, his eyes narrowing slightly. All he had to do was spare a glance the Barkeep's way to know the man addressing them wasn't some noble saint. Revealing any information to the man of their mission could ultimately hinder them.
"I'm the law here, I'm supposed to help people and such," The Sheriff laughed as he met Russel's gaze. "You just don't pull anymore shit in my town and we'll be nice and dandy. You comprehend?"
Though Russel sought what was best for his team, this wasn't his call to make. So he remained silent as Danny took over with a begrudging nod of acceptance. "Sounds fair."
"Now who's this fella you're lookin' for?" The Sheriff inquired.
"A man named Kevin." THE DNCE leader said.
"Kevin? Oh, I know Kevin. In fact we all do." He gave a curt nod to the Bartender and smiled. "You can find our dear Kevin out by 'The Fields', it's a nice plot of land and such, just head a little bit East of here. You can't miss it."
"Much appreciated." Danny thanked the Sheriff. "Best be on your way then." Pushing off from the side of the counter, the trio of Huntsmen hurried off towards the exit, waving over to Dove and signaling the CRDL boy to join them.
"Now remember, don't go starting any shit." The Sheriff said, catching their ears one last time, echoing the trio of men from earlier.
"Oh you know it," Russel smirked over his shoulder before joining the rest of his team and exiting the saloon.
Walking back outside, Russel and the others grabbed their horses and set off, only sparing one last glance back to the saloon, thinking back to how the Bartender had been so easily frightened by the presence of the Sheriff.
"I don't like this place." The Thrush declared aloud, earning agreeing nods from his teammates. "Something just feels off."
With the Huntsmen gone, out in the back of the room in his secluded booth, the helmeted man stood and made the long stride through the silent bar and reaching Brussels. The Sheriff nodded to the man and turned to look at the doorway in which the quartet had left. "They're going to be trouble, aren't they?" Brussels spoke aloud before pouring himself another shot.
"Hrn." The Helmeted man grunted and turned a turned his sights towards the Bartender.
The Barkeep gulped, paling as he felt the man's gaze. "I-I didn't tell them anything." The old man said.
"We know." Brussels said before passing the bottle of whiskey across the counter to the Helmeted man. "Still, you shouldn't have lost your nerve. Coyote."
The Helmeted man, Coyote, then grabbed ahold of the bottle and raised it slightly, as if measuring its weight. Then, without warning, he whipped it around before slamming it across the Bartender's face, breaking on contact. The sheer force behind the strike then flung the bartender into the wall behind him. A sickening crack of bones was echoed throughout the quiet room as all eyes were still fixated on the front. The old Bartender collapsed onto the floor, crimson beginning to pool out of his mouth.
"You were a shitty Bartender anyways," The Sheriff remarked as his helmeted associate tossed what remained of the bottle over his shoulder. Brussels then turned and pointed at the nearest patron, gesturing to the bar counter. "Hey, you," He called out to the patron. "You're the new Bartender. Have fun."
"Woo!" The patron exclaimed before running up from his seat to the bar. "Drinks on the house!" He shouted, earning a series of cheers from his once and former fellow patrons. As other similarly dressed men and women began to rush to the bar, The Sheriff and Coyote departed.
Welcome to Venezier.
'Tears of Venezier' was planned to be the seventh story arc, occurring right after 'Downtime', but instead I swapped it out for the Nebula arc. Originally, Russel was to travel to Venezier immediately after the Memoria Night Club incident for something completely unrelated to the current plot, but would encounter familiar characters such as Brussels and Coyote.
Speaking of Brussels and Coyote, the last time we saw these guys its was as a cameo at the very end of 'The Fall of Vale', and before that during the Nebula arc. So, for a refresher, I recommend at least reading the very last chapter of the Nebula arc, might clue you guys back in on what their deal is.
Anyways, next chapter will be out next week, I'm hoping to get 2 more chapters out by then, hopefully. Anyways, later days!