Hello there everyone! Welcome back for another chapter of The Darkilng Thrush! Yay!
I would like to apologize for how late this chapter is, unfortunately I have commitments outside of writing that demand a majority of my time and effort. So, again, sorry.
Anyways, as always I'd like to thank everyone who left a review last chapter! Thank You Baoh joestar, Hellbreaker, noone297 and StoneWorks17! Thank you for your time and comments, I'm glad you enjoyed that chapter.
Over the past week I've gone back and reexamined the planned storylines. Primarily my decision to limit myself to OC type villains. So I'm rescinding that. Now, what exactly does that mean? It means expect to see Salem and her Cabal showing up within the story at some point.
Without further ado, on with the story!
LIII
Tears of Venezier: Part 3
So far things were going as well as he'd expected, Russel sarcastically mused as the pair of red and black clothed men, with the embroidered letter 'B' roosters on their chests, unceremoniously dumped both himself and Dove in a cell with in the Sheriff's office. With an audible thump he hit the damp old wooden floor, followed by a pained moan.
It hurt to move, in fact it hurt to breathe, something the Thrush did a lot of. It sort of felt like a rib had snapped and was poking into his lungs. But seeing as he was coughing up profuse amounts of blood, it seemed to be a safe bet that wasn't the case. Then again, Russel barely knew squat about anatomy, save for the few images of the human body he'd seen in a book some years back in Oakwood's library.
The Thrush couldn't help but scoff at the thought of his home town. He couldn't help it as his thoughts raced back to the first mission overseen by Professor Port. He thought of how Marlowe and The White Fang lieutenant The Iron Nail had conspired to fool them into departing believing themselves heroes and none the wiser of their secret dealing in stealing the captive Grimm beneath the local academy.
Russel scoffed at the memory, his wary eyes glancing up off the floor to the barred door, as the men shut it with a cold metal clang. It was not lost on Russel that if he had simply played dumb and hadn't raised his suspicions to the Sheriff, he wouldn't be laying inside of the cell, but it just couldn't be helped. Thinking back to those events in Oakwood, he couldn't help but compare it to his recent events. The Sheriff, Brussels as he called himself, had pulled the same trick that Marlowe had and he sure as hell wasn't going to let that slide.
But then again, perhaps he should have, Russel mused as he fought against his own aching body to sit up. Turning his head sharply, he managed to catch sight of the men as they walked back down the hall. Though confined within this cell, the Thrush was already formulating a means of escape. Signaling out which one of the guards possessed the keys to their door was paramount. Sadly, however, Russel wasn't quick enough, down the hall their jailors went out view of the Thrush's watchful gaze.
"Well this blows." Russel muttered before feeling a drop of liquid splash against his forehead. Already conscious of the damp floor, it didn't surprise him in the slightest of the source. However, when Russel raised his hand to wipe away what he presumed to be a drop of water, removing his hand from head, he found a familiar crimson staining his palm.
Russel looked up instantly. There, nailed to the ceiling and savagely beaten, was an elderly man dressed in severely cut lawman garb. His jaw hung open and loose, his eyes openly staring out to nothingness with a multitude of lacerations covering his body. It didn't take too long for Russel to recognize the man, him being one of the Sheriffs and Deputies picture on the diner's wall. Still, that only further put off the Thrush. "The fuck is wrong with this town?" He wondered aloud as he continued to stare upward at the deceased lawman.
"I wouldn't go blaming the town for the wickedness of few," A voice suddenly spoke up, catching Russel off-guard.
The Huntsman quickly spun around, turning to the cell beside his own. Through their bars he could make out the appearance of an older man wearing a tan shirt and blue jeans. His hair was long and dark, tied up into a pony tail. His face was neutral and his brown eyes were staring back through the cage, back to Russel.
"Who're you?" Russel asked cautiously.
"No, I believe the question is, who are you?" The man questioned, his voice quiet and a quizzical air to his words.
"Yeah, we just got our assess kicked by a bunch of guys for letting that spill, you first." Russel shot back.
"Well, given by your surprise of the state of Venezier's law enforcement, I'd say you aren't local. And, given the fact they're bothering locking you up instead of putting two in the back of your head, or treating you like our fine government officials," the man gestured up to the lawman nailed up above in his own cell and then to the one in Russel and Dove's. "That would mean you must be important."
"Quite the astute observation." Russel muttered, sounding unfazed by the man's deduction.
"You wouldn't happen to be descendants of the King of Vale, would you?" The man questioned, motioning from Russel to Dove and back.
"Not the last I checked, no." The Thrush shrugged.
"Huntsmen then." The man concluded.
Russel nodded, seeing no point in further denying the man the truth, not like he wouldn't have found out later on the next time one of the jailors would come back around, probably bringing Danny and Marie-Anne along to join them.
"So if we're here because we're important, what does that make you?" Russel asked, recalling how the man, Dr. Kruger, had addressed The Sheriff, deeming them valuable as hostages. Given the fact the law around the town was currently ceiling ornaments, it appeared that the only people their captors bothered imprisoning served some purpose in the long run of whatever scheme they were working towards.
"I played the guessing game, so shall you." The man said, a light smile appearing on his face.
With a sigh, Russel complied. "Well, obviously our captors have little regard for authority." He said, giving a nod upward. "You're no lawman, nor do you seem to be the type to hold office, not scummy enough for that."
"I'll take that as a compliment." The man shrugged.
"Our red and black dressed pals are keeping me and my buddy around for leverage, but that's not why you're here. Otherwise they'd have dragged you out of your cell the moment we walked into town." Russel said, rationalizing why The Sheriff or any of these other similarly dressed cretins had bothered attempting to send them on their way.
But seeing as the man in the cell was not a hostage that meant that he was here for another reason. The only reason they aren't dead was because they were of some use to the Sheriff and his gaggle of cronies, which meant so was the man. "No, they need you because you've got skills they don't have, something practical."
"Pretty solid reasoning so far, but can you stick the landing?"
"Well, let's see." Russel scratched his chin and put his brain to work. "You're an asset, someone our supposed 'Sheriff' can't do without. A valued resource, but not an intelligence resource, not something they explicitly depend on, otherwise they'd keep you attached to their hip at all times. No, you'd have to provide a service of some kind, that's why they keep you here." With the facts placed out before the Thrush, he reached his conclusion. "You're a doctor aren't you?"
The man smirked. "My name is Redhorse, Redhorse Iron-Knife. I ran the local clinic before these bastards gaffed me up and tossed me in here."
"Russel. Russel Thrush, Huntsman." Russel said, unable to help himself from smiling, feeling a small twinge of pride in his own ability to deduce the man's, Redhorse, occupation.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Russel." Redhorse smiled, seemingly happy to meet a friendly face. "But, if you don't mind my saying, you boys seem a little young to be Huntsmen."
"Beggars can't be choosers these days. Sadly Huntsmen are in short supply these days." Russel sadly admitted.
A nearby groan soon caught Russel's ear. Glancing downward, the Thrush found Dove beginning to regain consciousness. "Dove?" He questioned before kneeling down beside his teammate. "You alright?"
Dove's eyes shot open, looking from Russel to the barred cell they resided in before finally settling on the sight that hung above them. "…There's a man on the ceiling." Dove muttered, suddenly looking a tad squeamish.
"Yep." Russel nodded.
"I hate this place." Dove said before clutching his body. "Did you see the guy that attacked us? Looked like a goddamn freak of nature." Dove shook his head "He was wearing flesh! Who does that?"
"So, how you feel?" Russel asked as Dove began to settle.
"This beats the time I leapt off that cliff by a mile." Dove groaned as he rolled up into a ball and held his battered body. "I feel like absolute crap."
"…E-yup." Russel muttered, the taste of copper still staining the inside of his mouth. "Right up with you there buddy." Helping Dove onto his feet wasn't an easy task. By far the flight capable CRDL boy had gotten the worst of the beating, entire chunks of wood from the tables he'd been tossed through clung stabbed into his armor and entire sections of his body swelled purple and red.
"As a trained physician, I'd say you're friend there may have internal bleeding." Redhorse commented.
"Who's this guy?" Dove looked to Russel for an explanation.
"Another poor sod trapped in this miserable town." Russel said, earning a dissatisfied look from Redhorse.
"Venezier isn't a bad place, just a bunch of bad men running things for the time being." The doctor released a long drawn out sigh. "It's not supposed to be like this."
"Yeah, we've read the brochures." Dove laughed weakly, still clutching onto himself with one arm while Russel helped him to his feet. "By the way, is that whole 'sea of stars' thing actually real? Or is that just something to catch the attention of would-be tourists?"
"It's the absolute truth." Redhorse said, his smile quickly returning. "The best damn sight you'll ever see. And if we get out of this, I'll give you the tour myself."
"Might just take you up on that offer." Dove nodded before raising his hand to the swelling purple and red part of his body. Within an instant, both his hand and the swelling section of his body began to glow, his aura setting to work on healing his battered body.
"Amazing." Redhorse said awe of the as he bore witness the miracle that was aura.
"Never seen too many Huntsmen at work before, have you Redhorse?" Russel said, shooting the doctor an amused look.
"No, never." Redhorse said as he watched Dove recover from in what would have taken weeks in mere minutes. "Unreal." He said in utter disbelief.
With a content sigh, Dove removed his hand from his side. No longer was it purple and red, the swelling was gone completely. Though aura had its limitations as far as missing limbs and destroyed brain cells were concerned, internal bleeding and broken bones were within the realm of its power.
"So, how we getting out of here?" Dove asked, looking better for ware than he did just moment earlier.
"There's more of you though, right? They can get us out of this, can't they?" Redhorse asked, looking from Russel to Dove.
"Not a big fan of these guys are you?" Russel said, raising a brow.
"They're a real couple of twits and pissants, bunch of little devils pretending to be people with black hearts." Redhorse spoke coldly. "They've butchered people, good men and women that I knew for years. You're goddamn right I'm not a fan of these guys."
"You think the others will come looking for us?" Dove asked, turning to Russel.
The Thrush thought about their odds. Recalling what Dr. Kruger and the rest of his cronies had discussed while they were being dragged out of the diner, Russel was certain the rest of their team would be joining them soon enough. Aside from that, it was a foolish thought to place the chance of escape solely on the possibility that another would come to your rescue. Ultimately, their escape would have to be through their own doing.
"I'm not waiting on them," Russel declared, turning to face the cell door. "We're getting out of here."
"Way ahead of you." Dove said before reeling back his fist and slugging Russel across the jaw.
Caught completely by surprise by the assault made by his own friend, Russel was powerless to stand against the blow and flew against the cell door, striking it and falling onto the damp wooden floor once. It took a moment for Russel to process these events, his mind racing to comprehend what could possibly move Dove to attack him. But, ultimately, Russel fell into old habits.
"What the Fuck Dove?!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, glaring intensely up at his teammate while he cradled both his jaw and the side of his head.
"Oh no!" Dove shouted, attempting to project his voice down the hall. "Guards! My friend has fallen! He needs help!"
"Why the fuck did you punch me?" Russel questioned harshly, maintaining his angered glare towards Dove.
"Shhh," Dove quickly raised an index finger to his lips and gestured for Russel to remain silent. "Just play dead, okay? I saw this in a movie once." Russel looked incredulously at Dove, before turning to Redhorse, who merely simply shrugged. "Seriously man, you want to get out of here or not?" He said quietly as a series of footsteps echoed from down the hall.
With a sigh, Russel resigned himself with the role he'd been given. He shut his eyes and laid still, playing dead.
"What's with all the shouting?" he red and black dressed guard asked as he arrived at Dove and Russel's cell.
"He's dying!" Dove quickly exclaimed, pointing down at the seemingly unconscious form of Russel. "You need to help him!"
"No I don't." The guard delivered dryly, followed by a quiet funt noise from back down the hall.
Dove froze for a moment, never having thought of the possibility of the guard declining to open the cell door. "But your boss is going to be so furious if he dies under your watch." Dove quickly said, hoping to still salvage his escape attempt. But the guard remained passive, indifferent to the idea of facing his superior's wrath. "…Well?" Dove implored.
"Well what?" The guard questioned rudely. "Am I supposed to be shocked? To open the door and run in? You'll just hit me on the head and escape. Look, your pall isn't even dying, he's fine." He gave a slight nod to Russel.
"Perhaps I should take a look, seeing as I am a doctor." Redhorse proposed, doing his best to contribute to their escape attempt.
"Oh sit your ass back down Redhorse, nobody's cell is getting opened, you hear me?" The guard said, before being followed by another funt noise.
The guard's head then exploded before Dove's eyes, cascading the cell with blood and bone. Russel groaned, feeling the man's brains rain down over him, dreading every second of this so called escape attempt.
"None of you two's semblance would happen to be exploding people's heads would it?" Redhorse asked from the safety of his own cell.
"No, and neither are ours." A familiar voice said, causing Russel to sit up and glance out the cell and down the wall. Briskly walking to the holding area of the Sheriff's office was none other than Marie-Anne and Danny, the latter of whom held a silenced pistol in his hand.
"Holy crap Danny." Dove muttered, his eyes still fixed on the guards dead body that slumped against the cell door. "You killed a man."
"Correction, I killed two." Danny said as he approached the body, reaching down and grabbing the ring of keys attached to its belt. "This man and his associate manning the front desk. But I wouldn't get misty eyed about this lot, I don't think they're very nice. He said, giving a nod to the interior of the cells and to the bodied that hung onto the ceiling.
"They were going after you guys after they'd caught us at the diner, how'd you escape?" Russel asked, unfazed by Danny's nonchalant attitude over dispatching the guards. After all, this wasn't the first time he'd found the DNCE leader standing over a dead body.
"A couple minutes after you dropped by our room, we decided to go out and grab some drinks."
"A couple minutes after?" Russel asked, arching a brow upward. "Well shit Danny, you know they've got pills for that right?"
"No, it's nothing like that, I assure you." The DNCE leader quickly said, his features turning a shade reader at the implication. "Though your concern is appreciated."
"Yeah, you sort of killed the mood," Marie-Anne said, glaring past the bars and at Russel. "Never do that again you piece of shit."
"You know, considering me showing up and interrupting your between the sheets fun time lead you to come and bust us out of jail, I'd think this would be considered a positive reinforcement, meaning I should do that more often."
"Do you want to get out of here or not?" Danny asked, raising the ring of keys.
"Yes please, very much so." Dove chimed in.
With that, Danny soundly flipped through the multitude of keys on the ring, eventually finding the corresponding key for the door and unlocked it, freeing the Huntsmen. "Alright, lets go." The designated team leader said, motioning for the group to follow his lead back down the hall.
"You forgetting someone?" Russel said, jotting a thumb over his shoulder to Redhorse, who sat quietly in his own cell.
"I'd very much appreciate it." The doctor said.
"He'll only slow us down." Danny argued.
"Hey, Redhorse," Russel called over to the imprisoned physician. "You now any sweet hiding places where we could lay low for a while?"
"Now that you mention it, I do know of just the property where we could hide out for a moment." Redhorse said, a smiler appearing on his face once more. "It's even beach front."
"You wouldn't happen to know anywhere else we can run to evade the rest of the goon squad, do you?" Russel asked, turning to Danny. Though hesitant, the DNCE leader relented and accepted bringing Redhorse along. Another flip through the ring of keys and the doctor was freed. And with that, the five of them sped off into the night.
Along the edge of town, down by the shore they found themselves, led there by Redhorse under the pretense of finding shelter from the red and black dressed goons that no doubt hunted for them in the night. The sea was calm, unnaturally quiet. So used to the tossing and thrashing of the waves back at Beacon, Russel and the rest of the team couldn't help but find the sight somewhat unsettling.
Despite their reservations against the unmoving sea, it was the sight that it bore that appealed to them. The entire open sea reflected the sky above. So far out away from the town, here in the darkness they could see it all. Both the overhead sky, filled with far out stars and the shattered moon, mirrored below against the sea.
"Imagine taking a boat out in that." Redhorse said aloud as he led them to a nearby cabin built out of reach from the nearby sea.
"Don't you think it's bad to build a house this close to the ocean?" Russel commented as they reached the cabin.
"It would be if there was a tide." Redhorse said as he approached the front door. The local doctor then reached above the doorway, grabbing a hidden key off the top before finally unlocking the door. "And for all the years I've lived here, there's never been a tide."
"How long have you lived here?" Dove asked as Redhorse opened the door, motioning for them to enter.
One by one they entered the cabin, with the physician closing it behind them. "Born and raised in Venezier. So all my life."
"Nice digs." Russel complemented as he took in the interior of the cabin, finding a nice living area with a wide window view of the nearby sea. "This place yours."
"No," Redhorse sadly sighed as he pocketed the cabin key and walked past a picture mounted on the wall of a man with antlers protruding from the sides of his head posing on a boat at sea. "It belonged to dear friend of mine."
"I can't imagine having to live in one place all my life." Marie-Anne muttered, wincing at the idea of probably being stuck in Oakwood. "You never aspired to go and see what else the world had to offer?" She questioned, turning her gaze to Redhorse as the others made themselves comfortable in the cabin's living room. "I can't say I can find the upside of being stuck here."
"Well, Venezier's had its highs and its lows." Redhorse admitted. "But it's always been the people that made things bearable. Seeing new faces turn up for tourism and the importation and exportation of goods from over at Atlas. But sadly, ever since the SDC has practically cornered the dust market, we haven't had much in that way of visitors. For the most part, Tourisms the only thing that's been keeping my home alive. And tourism's been a bust for the last couple weeks."
"Can't say I'm surprised, a worldwide communications blackout would do that." Russel muttered as he found himself staring out a nearby window that faced the ocean. The sight of all those stars, both up and down was completely mesmerizing. "How is it there's no tide?"
"Your guess is as good as ours." Redhorse shrugged as he stepped into the kitchen, fetching plate of pastries from the cuboards and putting a pot onto the kennel. "Initially, we thought it had something to do with the moon. But then, a couple years back, we got a specialist from Mistral to try and figure things out. He told us it defied all preconceived notions of science and had squat to do with the moon."
"And you paid how much for this guy to tell you that?" Russel turned his head away from the window, arching a brow upward as he peered into the kitchen toward Redhorse.
"Yeah, we got screwed on the whole deal." The physician shrugged. "Anyways, Venezier can't survive like this, the people here need the tourism to continue. And these bastards aren't helping either."
"Who are they anyways?" Danny asked as Marie-Anne joined him at the sofa. "The people dressed in red and black."
"Yeah, and The Sheriff and the doctor guy. Who're they?" Dove questioned as he busied himself
"Well, I can tell you about the oddly dressed fellas, but my knowledge of the latter two is limited solely to my personal experience." Redhorse said as the pot began to whistle. Switching off the kennel, he retrieved the pot and began to pour its contents into five cups already filled with coffee mix.
"So, what are we dealing with?" Russel questioned.
"The men and women dressed in red in black? They call themselves The Blimey Cocks." Redhorse said, dreading the words that left his mouth.
For a moment, the team of Huntsmen fell silent, each one possessing a disbelieving look on their faces. "...But why though?" Dove questioned as Redhorse entered the living room, bringing with him the five cups of coffee on a tray, along with them cream and sugar as well as the plate of snacks.
"They're all locals, a relatively small percentage of Venezier's population, but now they're the law around these parts. Birthed during the backlash following the Faunus Rights Revolution, where the Blimey Cocks were one of the many traditionalist groups that sprang up." Redhorse muttered as he began to disperse the mugs amongst the Huntsmen.
"Traditionalist?" Danny raised a brow at the word. "That would mean there's some sort of religious context to their madness."
"No, they aren't people of faith, well, they don't believe in god or anything." The doctor shook his head before taking a sip out of his mug, relishing in the caffeine he'd no doubt been denied in his time stuck behind a cell. "They're an offshoot of the Ministry of Nihilism, where instead of believing that nothing matters, they revel in the rationalization that all they're actions are ultimately pointless, therefore they could do whatever they want without consequence."
"So, after the Faunus Revolution, I assume they didn't exactly take to the idea of treating Faunus as equals." Russel concluded. "I also can't help but notice we haven't seen any Faunus since we've been here."
"That would be the Blimey y Cocks' handy work." Redhorse said bitterly. "For the longest time they would begrudgingly go along with authority, but three weeks ago they initiated a purge, enabled by a man named Dr. Kruger. The real Sheriff and his deputies were the first to go, then those who held office, next were the Faunus."
"They killed them all?!" An alarmed Dove shouted with a mouthful of cake, earning a pair of odd glances from his teammates. "What?" He questioned in a defensive manner. "I never got dinner."
"No, not all of them." Redhorse shook his head. "Last I knew, they rounded up the survivors and marched them out into the fields, down to old Venezier to reopen the mines."
"Why would they do that?" Marie-Anne said before taking a health sip out of her mug.
"Well, I'm not too sure." Redhorse shrugged. "Everyone they brought me to fix up only told me that they were being forced to dig down an old dust mine that had gone dry."
"So, what do The Blimey Cocks want down there?" Marie-Anne asked.
"Not The Blimey Cocks, no, this is the work of one man." The doctor shook his head.
"Dr. Kruger." Russel muttered, earning an affirming nod from Redhorse.
"Three weeks ago, that's when The Blimey Cocks took over. But before that, almost a month before that, this man, Dr. Kruger came into town, bringing with him a trio of mercenaries. One of whom who now has usurped the position of Sheriff, as you already know." Redhorse curtly nodded to both Russel and Dove, who beckoned him to continue his tale.
"There was nothing exceptionally odd about Kruger, we just assumed he was another tourist. But then he started asking all sorts of odd questions about the town's history and spouting anti-faunus hate speech." Redhorse shook his head at the memory. "It really caught on with The Blimey Cocks, not so much with the Sheriff's department. But after the second week, he disappeared. We all thought he must've taken off. It turned out though that he and the Blimey Cocks had reached an agreement, that if he'd help them take back the town from us 'Faunus Lovers', then they'd help him reopen the mine."
"Four people took over the entire town?" Dove said, his mouth hanging open in awe.
"Afraid so," Redhorse nodded grimly. "But, now that you're all here, I'm hoping you can change that. You Huntsmen can save Venezier and give it back to the people."
"It isn't an accident that we're here Redhorse, we were sent here on a mission." "One of our friends went missing, he was supposed to have come here about two weeks ago."
"Oh," Redhorse made no attempt to hide his disappointment. "Your friend could be dead. As you already know they only keep around those who they have a use for."
"I refuse to believe that." Dove shook his head in a defiant manner.
"If you know anything, anything that can help us find him, we'll do our best to see Venezier liberated." Danny said, meeting Redhorses stare.
The physician sighed, looking uncomfortable as if he'd been caught between a rock and a hard place. "I can't promise that this bit of information will lead you to your friend, but it's worth a shot." Redhorse shook his head. "A week ago, they brought me a Faunus girl who'd broken her leg down in the mine. She told me fallen asleep while working machinery because they'd rescheduled her work shift in order to accommodate fresh arrivals."
"Could be Sky." Marie-Anne suggested, sounding hopeful.
"It's our only lead." Danny nodded. "Anything else you can tell us about this mining operation of theirs?"
"Not much else, I've been stuck in a cell for the past couple weeks." Redhorse apologized.
"And you said the mine was in old Venezier, correct?" Russel asked, earning a nod from the doctor. The four Huntsmen then shared a collective glance towards one another, already knowing their next course of action.
All while the team of Huntsmen marched through the barren portion of land on the outskirts of Venezier dubbed 'The Field', the newly quartet couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding as they continued towards their destination.
Perhaps it was simply fatigue that had dulled their nerves. It had been a long enough day, and it hadn't been since morning that they had a decent meal. Maybe it was the walk itself that struck the team, how they couldn't retrieve their steeds from local Inn without rousing suspicions and being forced to traverse the miles long distance. Or maybe it was the idea of them infiltrating Dr. Kruger and the Blimey Cocks' mining operation to find Sky that weighed heavily on their minds.
There were too many unknowns to consider. For starters, they didn't know their enemies total strength. Venezier wasn't as big as a city, but that last population total had them somewhere around a thousand. Aside from Dr. Kruger and the trio of men that he supposedly brought along, there was still no telling just how many people comprised The Blimey Cocks.
Then there was the fact that if they were to find Sky, there was no telling if they could leave with him. For all they knew he was probably apart chain gang. To liberate him would mean to liberate everyone. It would be utter chaos if they made it that far, not to mention they'd then be putting the captive Faunus miners in danger. That just present a whole slew of problems.
"So, when we get Sky, then what?" Marie-Anne asked aloud, directing her question forward to the their designated team leader. "We really going to stick around and help sort out this problem?"
"Why wouldn't we?" Dove questioned, raised a brow at the DNCE member's wording.
"Just saying, there's no way the five of us can do this on our own." She shrugged. "I think our best bet would be to return to what's left of Vale and get help for another."
"You mean abandon these people to further subjugation while we go home." Russel quickly said, earning a slight glare from his fellow Oakwood native.
"What's it matter to you, Russel?" She spoke coldly.
"Of all people, Marie-Anne, you should know where I stand on the idea of people dictating how other people live." Russel said, matching Marie-Anne with a glare of his own.
"We can't just abandon these people. You guys saw what they did to those men in those cells, imagine how it must be for these miners." Dove shivered, recalling the sight of the Sheriff and his deputies strung up on the ceiling.
"Agreed." Russel stated firmly.
"I don't like it either," Danny finally said, earning the trio's attention. "But let's be realistic. There's only four of us, and Sky won't be much help if they've had him wearing himself down digging for them. Our only course of action would be to return with a force capable of liberating the town."
"And what of the people, Danny?" Russel questioned. "We're already stretched too thin, that's why Goodwitch sent us here. How long then until we can return in force, hm? A month? A year? What of the people then?"
With saddened face, the DNCE leader sighed. "They'll just have to make do."
The conversation died then, the mood for talk overstaying its welcome. The Huntsmen continued on towards their destination in complete silence. The hours passed and the night and its stars trailing behind them as dawn approached.
Yellow rays and hues of orange cascaded across the land once more. The Huntsmen, thought tired, continued their pace, feeling the suns warmth wash over them as they finally reached their objective.
Perching themselves atop a hill, the team of Huntsmen found themselves staring down at what had once been the town of Venezier. Few buildings of the old town remained, the old wood turned dust and washed away with the wind. Entire camps of tents littered the area, with Faunus men and women trudging through shackles on their way into a hole against the nearby mountain.
Sentries were posted in every direction, those men and women who wore the red and black clothing and the rooster shaped 'B' broches belonging to members of The Blimey Cocks standing at attention, armed with old weapons that seemingly hadn't been used since the days of The Great War. But still, a weapon was weapon, the threat was real and ever present. Should any of the miners try anything, these guards would be more than happy to deal with them.
"Move your assess!" Down below, a heavy set burly man, Pepper, whom Russel and Dove had witnessed accompany Dr. Kruger and The Sheriff Brussels back at the diner, shouted at the captive miners. "The slower you are the longer we'll be here! Now move it!" The man jabbed the end of his machine gun against one of the miners.
The Faunus grunted as he was hit by the rifle. Visibly seething, the man turned his eye towards Pepper and let out a shout before lunging towards him, intent on tearing him apart with the pick axe he possessed. The man didn't get far, two sentries already had pegged, as did Pepper. The early morning air was soon filled with the violence of gunshots, and what remained of the man hitting the ground with a light thud.
Though the Huntsmen found the sight horrific, so did everyone else. With the sentries eyes directed towards the commotion, the team slipped into the camp undetected. The team then split up into pairs, with Danny and Marie-Anne going one way, Russel and Dove going the other.
"Don't get caught." Russel said as he and Dove departed, turning their attention towards what they presumed to be the miner's tents.
Bypassing a pair of Sentires, too caught up in trying to determine the source of gunshots than minding their posts, the CRDL duo ducked into the nearest tent, one large enough to seemingly house twenty people. It was then that Russel and Dove found themselves face to face with a stockpile of dynamite and various other assorted weaponry.
"Whoa." Dove said, his mouth hanging slightly open at the sight.
"Whoa, indeed." Russel muttered, realizing that they weren't within the vicinity of the miner's quarters, rather, they were no doubt within the limits of The Blimey Cocks' tents. The Thrush then turned his gaze from the stash of explosives to the arsenal of weapons, instantly recognizing one of the swords amongst the bunch. The Thrush then gently nudged his teammate with his elbow then pointed to the blade. "That one yours?" He smirked.
"Oh sweet." Dove instantly brightened, quickly dashing over to retrieve his sword, which had been confiscated the moment after the duo were assaulted in the diner.
Russel then approached the stash of weapons, looking them over, from blade to gun. A number of them appeared archaic, lacking the dual purpose of today's weaponry. It then occurred to the Thrush how outgunned he truly was. Though he possessed his Mother's knife, which he kept hidden within his bracer, it was only a knife and the people they were dealing with were armed with machine guns.
So, without ceremony, Russel reached out and claimed a lone dagger from the lot of swords. He weighed the blade in his hands, giving it a good swing to get a feel for it. Satisfied, he reached out and grabbed a weapons belt on a nearby table and tied it against his waist before finally hooking the dagger to it.
But the Thrush didn't stop there. He then turned his eye to the stash of guns. Though he had little experience, save for the brief time he came into possession of Marlowe's pistol and the Inn Keeper's handgun that Cardin had confiscated, as well as the ill-fated time he'd picked up a discarded Atlesian rifle to take aim at some White Fang, Russel possessed absolutely zero experience when it came to guns. But given the circumstances, and the very real possibility of being caught in the crosshairs of an automated rifle, he at least wanted the chance to shoot back.
So Russel reached out and claimed the only gun amongst the bunch that he could use with one hand, an Uzi. He grabbed two spare magazines and threw them onto his shiny new weapons belt before raising the gun and looking down the sights. "Is it supposed to feel heavy?" He asked, glancing over to Dove, who for the past minute had been standing watch while Russel had his pick of the lot.
"Yeah," Dove muttered, his demeanor darkening slightly. "Glad you recognized that."
"Alright," Russel nodded as he clipped the Uzi to his belt. He then reached out to the pile of dynamite and grabbed a pair of sticks. "Exit plan." He said to Dove before grabbing a box of matches left haphazardly to the side.
"Can't wait to see how we pull this one off." Dove muttered before the duo exited the tent to continue their search for their missing teammate.
Down a row of tents they went, evading the watchful eye of sentries. But then the sharp familiar sound of screaming caught their ears. A sudden fear shot down both Russel and Dove's spines, each wondering whether it was one of their own who was now screaming bloody murder.
They hurried down the row to find the source of the screaming. Along the way, they bypassed another pair of sentries, but something was amiss, they didn't seem the least bit bothered by the screaming, almost as if they were used to it. But they paid it no mind and continued onward, eventually reaching the source of the blood curdling screams, a lone tent similar to the one they'd just left.
Russel pried the tent's flaps open ever so slight allowing the pair to pear inside. Both CRDL boys' eyes then shot wide open at the horror inside. There within the tent, was a pile of Faunus corpses, all of whom appeared to be missing the very features that dubbed them so. There was also another still living male porcupine Faunus stretched out on a rack. But the man wasn't alone, towering over him with his back to the tent's entrance was Coyote.
The helmeted Coyote raised a meat cleaver then chopped down on the man, cleaving off another series of his quills, drawing entire streams of blood. Coyote worked silence, much to the CRDL boys horror as the man continued to scream. And with one final swing of his meat cleaver, the man fell dead silent and Coyote resumed collecting his quills.
Russel then closed the tent's flap, the pair backing away from the tent ever so slightly. There was nothing they could do now. So they continued onward, doing their best to keep finding Sky at the forefront of their minds.
Down past another series of tents they went, avoiding another pair of sentries, they happened upon a nearby conversation, instantly recognizing one of the voices belonging to that of Dr. Kruger. They slowed their pace, coming up alongside another tent and listened.
"We're so close, I can feel it." Dr. Kruger said from within the tent. "I must go now, much to oversee. Until again, Mr. Lark." He said, earning the CRDL boys' attention.
Quickly, Russel and Dove ducked away as Dr. Kruger exited the tent. Once the coast was clear, they stepped out from their hiding spot and cautiously slipped into the tent. Inside the tent they found a plethora of tables littered with old artifacts with the Vacuan flag etched into them resting atop crates labeled with a fancy 'W', as well as writing in different languages that neither could decipher. But it was neither of these things that held the duos attention, rather, it was the familiar figure standing at the far end of the tent. There stood Sky Lark, their friend and teammate, quietly looking down a journal.
"Sky." Dove spoke quietly, causing the halberd using CRDL boy to turn and look over his shoulder.
A look of surprise graced Sky's features, before turning to one of joy. "Guys!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air. "What're you guys doing here?" Sky asked, turning his back to the desk in order to fully face his fellow CRDL teammates.
"What are we doing here?" Russel raised a brow, noticing how calm Sky appeared to be. "We're here to rescue you."
"Rescue me?" Sky said, sounding quite surprised. "But I don't need to be rescued."
"Are you not aware of the slavery going on around here? Or the mass killings?" Dove asked, pointing his hand down the direction they'd come from. "You didn't hit your head on anything did you?"
"No, believe me, I feel fine." Sky said, placing a hand behind his back. "Better than fine even. We're on the verge of probably the most significant discovery known to man since dust itself." He said in an excited tone, gesturing to the surrounding pieces and texts with his free hand.
"Sky, I don't think you're thinking clearly." Russel said, taking a step forward. "What these people are doing is inhumane. People are dead, others are in shackles, and an entire town is being subjugated." He took another step forward. "We need to leave. Now."
Sky sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I can't do that." He said before turning his attention past the pair of CRDL boys. "And seems neither can you."
Russel and Dove then turned their attention to their backs. At the tents entrance stood Dr. Kruger, flanked by the very same trio of men who'd greeted the team of Huntsmen when they'd initially arrived into town, as well as Pepper and Coyote. And on the ground, on their knees with guns to their heads was none other than Danny and Marie-Anne.
"Hello there," Dr. Kruger smiled at Russel and Dove. "So these are the friends you've been going on about, Mr. Lark?" His smile grew wider.
"Yes," Sky said, as he drew a gun off the desk behind him, aiming it at both Russel and Dove. "Yes they are."
How's that for a plot twist?
So, yeah, a lot of crap goes down in this. But I guess I can finally talk about Dove and Sky now.
When I started this story, I never envisioned it going past five chapters. But then it did. And for the earlier days of writing The Darkling Thrush, I didn't think I'd spend anytime developing Dove and Sky as characters, rather focusing on Russel and Cardin and their dynamic. It's actually very evident during the 'Who Dares Wins' arc where I sidelined the characters. But that all changed during 'Downtime', when I realized how much this story has grown. I'm basically playing catch up in terms of Dove and Sky's character development. And this arc is sure to change all of that.
Anyways, the next two chapters...oh my god...the next two chapters are going to be soooo goddamn long...
I'm going to try and get the next one out by the end of next week but my time these days is being increasingly limited.
'Til then, later days!