Know what's fun? Watching the world implode over something no more serious than the common cold. I'm also somewhat confused as to why toilet paper is being purchased in droves. If anything is going to protect me from the 2020 "plague" its poo paper.
But you're not here for hot takes on this year's latest crisis, you're interested in story! Well, here you are, brave citizen. Enjoy!
Well, they had found transport. After an hour of trekking on foot Goodwitch flagged down a lone, single oxen cart meandering its way along, driver hunched over in resigned boredom. At first, he regarded them with a leery smile until her superior revealed her mark and lechery became hesitance. On an unspoken cue Weiss produced her bag of Lien - not much, she knew, but to a man who worked for pieces a day it must have seemed like quite a lot.
Gods knew she didn't need the money for anything.
Oh wait, she did.
Given the option of either walking further or taking the cart she handed over her coins. The driver, unabashed, ripped open the drawstring, dumped the Lien into his palm, then tossed back the bag and pocketed the modest sum.
"Only enough room for one up front," he remarked, eyeing the two women uncertainly. Weiss sighed, knowing full well where this was heading and clambered into the back. Stuffed between a barrel that leaked and a crate overfilled, the lid cracking and flexing upwards, she drew up her hood, then her knees, and leaned against the wall of the cart.
It flexed behind her and she yelped, flailing and scooting away from the faulty barrier.
"Cart's a bit worse for wear," their driver laughed. "Might not want to do that."
Goodwitch settled beside the man and Weiss nodded. She found a reasonable spot in the middle of the cart, crossed her legs, and tried not to pout.
The ox snorted in protest and leather cracked against its tough hide. Slowly, with wheels creaking, axle squeaking, they were on the move again.
It didn't take long for the driver to ask who they were, where they were going, and to both Weiss' amusement and horror, if they were related. With more tact than she'd have managed Goodwitch answered each question with brevity: Hunters, official business, and no. Maybe the revelation of what they were made the man less keen on transporting them. He looked to the pocket on his raggedy tunic, jingling Weiss' coins, chewing on his cracked lips and itching his brow beneath a wide brim straw hat.
"There will be more Lien in it for you if you agree to help."
Coin opened all doors, or in this case it convinced a reluctant man to act as their steward.
On they went. Roman and Neo had long since disappeared, far enough ahead that Weiss could no longer see them. The Branwen siblings were gone too, having cut through fields themselves, and Weiss was grateful for that much; Qrow and Raven looked just as poised to attack one another as they did the enemy. That was not a feud she wanted to be caught in the middle of.
It didn't take long for Weiss to question their decision of taking a ride. A cart led by an ox twice as wide as the broadest man was, unsurprisingly, not discreet. Even if their mode of transport had been more inconspicuous, they were hardly the only ones on the road either.
They passed a caravan of travelers and a handful of men and women in haphazard armor; leather pauldrons, bits of chainmail, plate that bore more rust than its original color, and hoes, pitchforks, spades and axes turned to weapons. It might have been cause for alarm if the entire procession didn't look so despondent. One or two people lifted their heads and caught Weiss staring after them but most trudged on, eyes lost in a straightforward stare or transfixed on the ground.
The further they got from the city the more people they encountered. A merchant with a small contingent of guards, farmers traveling in a convoy heading from the city, a handful of Hunters in tow as protection. The occasional watchtower which sprouted up like a stony weed revealed beleaguered guards either caught in conversation with a weary traveler, giving directions to hopelessly lost ones, or fast asleep in chairs.
"Grimm's got everyone on edge," their driver explained. "Since the outbreak folks're nervous, and nerves make Grimm. You lot must got a lotta work right now." Goodwitch offered a noncommittal hum. Weiss picked at the lace on her boot. "Not seen many, though. Was afraid to travel for a while sure but things've calmed down since then. Dunno why folks are still on edge."
"Caution is never a bad thing," Goodwitch said. "Particularly in matters pertaining to the Grimm."
"Aye, aye, but if you ignore 'em and pretend they don't exist then they don't come looking for you." They passed by another lone carriage, a man and woman behind the reins, bickering loudly at first, then lowering their voices as the trio drew near. "Lotsa these folks make their own problems. It's why I travel alone; ain't enough problems to make Grimm look at me twice."
Even if negativity attracted Grimm, which it didn't, that wasn't how this worked at all. Grimm didn't need to eat, they rarely got into territorial disputes, and they had, if theory held true, infinite lifespans, barring an early demise at the hands of a Hunter. If he's managed thus far then maybe there's some merit to it though?
"You should still be careful," Weiss cautioned. "Grimm don't need much reason to attack someone."
"But what do I gotta worry about? There's guards every mile and Hunters roamin' everywhere, aren't there?" The driver grinned at Goodwitch, showing gaps between yellow teeth. "Safe as can be, unless you're telling me there's a reason to be afraid, missy?"
Weiss elected not to answer.
"That is an admirable approach." Weiss raised an eyebrow at Goodwitch's praise. "It takes a brave man to face danger, especially alone. Conquer your fear," she said, smiling. "And the Grimm will do you no harm."
"Heh, that's right!" The man glowed, beaming even, sitting just a bit taller. Either being commended by a Hunter meant something special or the man was easily goaded. "Beasts don't bother me none if I don't pay them any mind."
"Precisely. More would do well to follow your example, good sir."
/+/+/+/+/+/
Throughout the day they traveled, sun bearing down on them, stopping occasionally to allow the ox to feed or to stretch their sore limbs. With Vale but a distant speck on the horizon now the number of travelers had begun to thin and only the occasional soul passed them by. Ten miles from the city and guard towers rarely appeared anymore. There was little worth protecting so far from the city, after all. No farms existed this far away, at least none that serviced the capital, and any villages or settlements kept to themselves.
Weiss hadn't considered the lingering unease that Merlot's attacks had caused. While they encountered no Grimm along the main road, they saw evidence that other people may have. More armed escorts, a few select Magi - Weiss recognized them not by their marks, since they weren't Hunters, but how people congregated around them, taking to their group's lone chance of survival like moths to flame. Protecting oneself while traveling wasn't an unusual thing, not when bandits, Grimm, and regular wildlife could all pose a threat.
Yet people all seemed to expect Grimm. Their collective unease should have a pack bearing down on them any moment and yet they traveled with somber resolution, bodies tensed, packed together like a school of fish for safety. It all seemed counterintuitive given what people knew of Grimm, but they still did it.
Not much else you can do when faced with an enemy like the Grimm. No one is immune to panic. Not them, not us. Weiss' nose wrinkled when the barrel beside her rocked and wine splashed out, narrowly missing her pure white cloak and instead staining the already spotted cart floor. It reeked of overripe grapes. Still… Where are the Grimm?
Whether by negativity or magic Weiss would have expected to encounter Grimm by now, and yet they hadn't. As morning gave way to the afternoon and the afternoon wore on, the sun passing its zenith, they never saw so much as a single Beowolf. Their driver, accommodating as he had been, finally stopped the carriage when they came to a fork in the road.
"You ladies heading to Collard?"
Weiss lifted her head and drew her hood back enough to read the signpost. Collard she didn't know, nor had she ever heard of it. That laid to the west. She knew of Galloway, a sizable port city with all manner of products coming to and from the kingdom through its gates. Having never been there herself she couldn't say much of what it was like, although she knew Blake had something of a history with the place. Other towns she didn't recognize were listed too; Bromfield, Ian's Moor, Winston. Each some miles away and none of them their destination.
Goodwitch slid from the carriage and smoothed her clothing, and for the first time today Weiss took in what the woman wore. An ash-gray quilted jacket with a high collar, and metal arm guards on her forearms. Her boots hit the dirt and Weiss noticed the metal greaves strapped to her shins, lightweight and layered, and the tassets around the woman's waist, layered as her greaves were, with dark tanned hide rimmed with black cloth.
By comparison Weiss felt naked as she climbed out of the back of the cart. She had her jerkin, a largely cloth piece with leather sewn in to cover vital points - her chest and back chief among them, with the sides spilling past her waist and reaching mid-thigh. She had no armguards, no greaves, and beyond her trousers which were quilted, and much too heavy for the weather, she was left unprotected.
They hadn't exactly stressed wearing armor to her. In hindsight she didn't need to be told; they were going into battle and it should have been obvious. Yet they also hadn't afforded her time to be fitted, find any in the Church's armory, or even purchase something from Roderick.
Goodwitch had gotten plenty well dressed for the occasion while she was left to make do.
If their silence wasn't answer enough then both departing the carriage was. With a halfhearted well wish the driver left them there at the fork, cart rumbling down the road. He never got that extra Lien.
She had just begun to work out the tightness in her back when Goodwitch began to walk away. Their path: Galloway, or thereabouts. They were heading in the general direction and Weiss raised an eyebrow at that.
"Does Lady Lavender live in Galloway?"
"No, she does not."
"Near it then?" Weiss licked her lips nervously when Goodwitch didn't answer, taking more interest in adjusting one of her armguards than Weiss' query. "Ma'am, you… You do know where we're going, don't you?"
"No. I had that man bring us miles from the capital and hoped to find the estate by chance." Goodwitch gave her a cross look. "Any more inane questions, Miss Schnee?"
She cringed back, then nodded, perhaps against her sensibilities. "Why are you upset with me? Is this still about Raven?"
"Who said I'm upset?"
"You're usually not so…" Sarcastic? Rude? Pointed? Or, as Raven had aptly called the woman, Goodbitch. "Confrontational," Weiss said diplomatically. Goodwitch studied her before sighing, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Forgive me, and no, this is not about that, as bothersome as involving that wretched woman is. I'm simply concerned, that's all." Weiss silently pressed for more. She didn't need to as Goodwitch continued unprompted. "You saw the citizens we passed. Many of those people seemed to be fleeing something, don't you think? And yet we've encountered no Grimm whatsoever. The kingdom is safe again, or at least as safe as it typically is."
"And yet our people are afraid. They're flocking to the capital, to larger settlements, I assume, because they think Grimm will appear in droves. Merlot's experiments were atrocious and a violation of not just the Church's beliefs but of nature itself. As bad as they were, however, I believe that the lingering effects are worse."
"You mean… People are afraid?"
"You saw them, did you not? Besides our plucky escort who I'm convinced is more foolhardy than fearless everyone we passed seemed terrified, or at least expecting the worst. Merlot has stolen the people's confidence, their peace of mind." Her face drew into a scowl, hands clenching at her sides. "That lunatic has irreparably damaged the kingdom even with his passing and the Church is floundering to restore people's hope."
Was the damage that bad? Weiss hadn't noticed much of an influx within the city. Then again, she typically visited a handful of locales, kept to herself or with friends. The residential ward could be overflowing with refugees for all she knew. That was to say nothing too of the Church's dealings. She didn't know how many Hunters were dispatched, where they were sent, or even what reports were being delivered.
People were fleeing for fear of Grimm. That made sense except for the fact that fear itself should be prompting even more Grimm to attack the travelers. It wasn't, but the people must still expect it at any moment. Some of the savvier types had to recognize that there was a discrepancy. It felt contradictory.
Were some of the citizens realizing the truth or were they chalking it up to good fortune? Certainly not the hard work of the Church if Goodwitch's lamentations were anything to go by.
"But that is neither here nor there. We have at least another hour of traveling before we reach the estate." Thunder cracked in the distance and Weiss grimaced, watching the dark grey clouds roll over the countryside, far, but not so far that she felt safe from their path. "We will not be seeking shelter, we're to head directly to our goal," she added. "I expect you to keep up, Weiss."
The familiarity of hearing her name made Weiss smile, misgivings instantly forgotten, and she nodded. "Understood, ma'am. And for what it's worth I think plenty of people still trust the Church."
"I can only hope so. It took decades to secure that trust. To think it could be damaged by the misdeeds of a single vagrant…"
"I still trust you," Weiss clarified, and she meant it. Maybe not as much as she had once, and perhaps not as much as her station might ask of her as a Warden, but she did.
Morally grey as the Church might be there was no doubt that Remnant was safer for its existence. The alternative was Grimm running rampant and people living in a perpetual state of terror. She'd take ambiguity over chaos.
"Thank you, Weiss." Goodwitch smiled at her, an earnest smile that almost felt out of place on the stern woman's face, but one Weiss couldn't help but reciprocate. "It's good to know we still have you."
/+/+/+/+/+/
The rain came down sideways, whipping them like a thousand small lashes, pelting them with droplets that soaked through their cloaks and chilled them until their veins themselves ran cold. No tightening or hunching provided comfort and as the ground became wetter, feet sinking into sodden earth, they trudged on. The storm had come quicker than anticipated and more fiercely than either of them had given it credit for. It wouldn't last - Weiss could already see blue skies, but they were in the thick of it now.
They spoke no words. Nothing would be heard over the downpour anyways. Goodwitch made a gesture and nodded meaningfully. At first Weiss didn't get it, then the woman made a wiping motion and she understood.
Or she thought she did. Weiss conjured a wind rune and blasted the immediate area around them. It provided a moment's reprieve from the rain, shed water from their cloaks…
And coated them from the waist down in mud.
"I was telling you to wipe your face!" Goodwitch shouted.
While her superior grimaced and went about trying to cleanse herself Weiss reached up, plucking a leaf from her forehead and staring at it. Oh. Oops.
The rest of the sluggish journey was spent in much the same manner. Slow going, hostage to the element, exposed for Mother Nature to exact some wicked revenge on the pair. Trees bent sideways under gusts of wind and Weiss fared little better. A gale buffeted her, and she braced to remain upright, cloak billowing, whipping and pushing the hood sealed around her face. When the gusts subsided, they continued, two solitary figures marching through a grayscale, empty road in the middle of nowhere.
By the time they reached another signpost the rain had let up for the most part and only a drizzle heckled them now. Thoroughly drenched as they were it made little difference. Weiss glared at the retreating clouds as they washed out to sea, then grabbed her jerkin and wrung out what she could.
Galloway, according to the sign, was only two miles due south of where they stood. The thought of seeking shelter in a warm tavern, kicking up their feet and enjoying a hearty meal was tantalizing. Goodwitch took one look at the sign and walked past it, deviating from the main road in favor of marching across the marshland that ran alongside it.
"It's a more direct route," Goodwitch explained when Weiss lingered on the road. "The main road will take too long. Hurry up. I don't wish to be outside any longer than you do."
The woman was certainly handling it better. Recalling memories of dry feet to soothe herself she stepped from muddy earth into waterlogged, boggy mush that she felt certain would swallow her whole. Walking in Goodwitch's footsteps she followed, covering her mouth with her hand as the pungent scent of rotting wood filled the air. Mosquitoes began to converge, and she swat at them, huffed, then drew her cloak tighter in an effort to be rid of them.
Utterly miserable. That's how Weiss felt as they carved a path through the marsh, using the occasional log or dry strip of land as a chance to rest. Her legs ached despite having ridden in a carriage for so long, or maybe because of it. While the sun had come back out it did so with hesitation, peering through clouds like a chaste youth spying on their crush before hiding itself again. It was agonizing work.
Pale trees sprouted from the ground and their roots jutted out of the earth, tripping Weiss more than once. Cypress and willow dotted the marshland and their branches hung low under the weight of themselves, leaves dipping tentatively into the murky water. A frog croaked nearby, Weiss saw it, then cringed when something lashed out from the water and swallowed it whole.
More mosquitos. More mud. More painstaking drudgery. What would the problems be of raising a land bridge with a spell or two? Grimm, probably. Possible some irreversible damage to the area too.
Weiss was more than willing to entertain both consequences.
She wouldn't have to. The water which at times became shin deep was growing shallower, the mud that made her feet suction into the earth growing less absorbent. Where cypress and willow grew there were white birch and sycamores grew in their stead, the former like white toothpicks, the later sprawling giants whose limbs fanned out, twisting and snarling as they grew higher and higher.
By the time they reached solid ground again the sky had turned a soothing orange. Scornful orange. A peaceful, warm color that seemed to mock her misery and make light of just how much she'd had to endure; wet clothes weren't the end of the world, but Weiss felt as though it was.
When they stopped for a brief reprieve she sat on an exposed root and removed her boots, grimacing as they squelched, caked in mud and moss. Her feet were pale and pruned, socks soaked through. Goodwitch stood by while she went about wringing them out, returning them to her feet reluctantly. Wet feet were better than blistered, she supposed. One discomfort for another. Wringing out her clothing as much as she could she accepted a waterskin from Goodwitch and nursed it, throat soothed instantly. With a satisfied sigh she handed it back and took dried prunes from her own pack, handing a few over and nursing on a handful as they continued.
What had been level ground began to rise, a slow incline at first, then sharper. Littered with leaves and damp from the recent downpour it was a precarious ascent, harried further by the presence of Grimm. Finally, they had seen some prowling among the trees, black shapes cutting a jarring silhouette against the stark white bark.
They kept their distance, however, prowling without somehow seeing them. If the beasts saw fit to leave them alone then Weiss wouldn't try to fight. Neither would Goodwitch, although both kept an eye out for any who might change their minds.
Knowing that Grimm prowled the forest they were in induced a sense of claustrophobia. Around every tree could be a fell beast waiting to attack, or one could be skulking behind them, biding its time to strike. Even the trees might hold some creatures in store. Weiss pictured an Arachne with its web stretched between canopies, presiding over the forest below like a hellish monarch. She could imagine the same twisted creature Merlot had, a Wendigo, stalking them, its slender, gangly limbs reaching through the trees, slender fingers stretching out…
"Weiss?"
Weiss jumped and gasped, hands clutching her chest as her heart threatened to burst from it. Goodwitch raised an eyebrow, oblivious, clearly, to her paranoia. Embarrassed, Weiss lowered her head, took a deep breath, and nodded once.
"We're nearly there. I was asking if you need another break." They both looked up the hill, up to where the ground rose suddenly into a sheer rock face.
Her legs, arms, back… Everything said yes. Weiss shook her head and wet bangs flicked free from her forehead. "No, ma'am, I'm ready to continue."
And continue they did. Rocks awash with lichen and crawling with all manner of insects greeted them. Nowhere could Weiss make out handholds not drenched in water, small streams trickling down every foreseeable avenue. Even with the proper equipment she'd be hesitant to attempt such a climb.
Nor would they have to. A brief jaunt led to their discovering a pathway carved into stone. It was steep, narrow, and likely still the death of them, but less so than climbing a sheer face would be.
Could they go around, perhaps? Goodwitch began the perilous walk, then stopped, gesturing Weiss ahead of her instead.
"You're nimbler than I am. And it will be easier to catch you should you fall, than you I."
Sound reasoning even if it effectively made her a canary in a mineshaft.
Narrow as it was, with no clear or defined route beyond a thin trail of dirt and crushed stone, Weiss took her time with the venture. She used whatever she could find for support: jutting rocks provided leverage, exposed roots or divots a foothold. It snaked its way up the rocks, the path did, more than once forcing Weiss to crouch beneath an overhanging rock, or shimmy along a thin strip. When necessary she made use of her runes and created a larger step or cleared a path, eyes inevitably drawing down to the forest below where Grimm roamed.
None came their way. Not so much as a howl or single set of red eyes. Nothing.
The climb wasn't so bad so long as she didn't look down, or imagine her bones breaking as she'd strike rock, or the sudden, jarring halt at the end followed by sheer nothingness.
If magic wasn't going to attract Grimm, then her growing trepidation just might.
It never did. By some cruel joke the path widened the closer they got to the top of the rocks. Narrow still but wide enough that they could comfortably walk single file without the need for shuffling. Seeing blades of grass swaying and peeking over the edge above, nearly within reach, gave an extra pep to her fatigued step.
"Finally…" Weiss groaned, using her still damp cloak to wipe sweat from her brow. They had made it to… Well, she wasn't entirely sure where. Was the manor atop a cliff? That seemed horribly cruel if so.
The manor wasn't, or anything for that matter. Weiss' hands grazed along slick blades of grass and she hauled herself up, offering a hand to Goodwitch, receiving an incredulous look, then withdrawing it a moment later. Yeah, she probably wasn't going to be much help there.
Hearing the grass shuffling wasn't enough to cause concern, not with a gentle breeze blowing. Grass didn't draw weapons from a sheathe however, and when she realized a blade was being removed Weiss whirled around, yelping and going pale.
A red blade stared her down, the tip inches from the bridge of her nose. Her eyes crossed, then slowly drifted up, smiling awkwardly at a glowering Raven.
"Those fucking cloaks…" The bandit shook her head and sheathed her sword. "You're lucky I didn't just cut you down then and there, Schnee."
"She means it's nice to see you," Qrow called from nearby. Weiss craned her neck and saw the lanky man sat by a fire, just as soaked through as they were, shirtless. His clothing hung up nearby along with a white jacket, cap, and a small blouse. "Rae, quit trying to kill the help."
"The help, dear brother, showed up wearing the uniform of the enemy. What do you expect me to do? Rush to them with open arms?"
"I would greatly appreciate you not touching me." Goodwitch climbed to join them and dusted off her hands. Weiss blinked, realized she was still sprawled in the grass, and jumped to her feet. "Qrow, where are Roman and Neo?"
"Off gettin' more firewood. Figured we ought to stock up before tonight, in case it rains again." He sniffled and rubbed his hands together as he leaned towards the fire.
"And shelter?"
"We've set something up. Nothing special," Raven said, stepping back and gesturing to a lopsided tent, although tent was a generous word. The 'shelter' was more of a lean-to with a cloth draped between a few fallen branches and twine holding it in place. Not elevated, not covered enough to keep out wind, and just barely enough to keep them dry. "Hope you Church types can survive roughing it."
"It will suffice." Goodwitch took stock of their camp, the small fire Qrow balled up besides, their shelter, and the pile of bags and belongings beneath a lone spruce tree. "It will have to do," she amended with a sigh. "Qrow, get dressed, go check the manor for signs of activity. Once Roman and Neo return, I intend to have them scour the area for a means of getting close without being seen."
"Hey, you're not in charge here, blondie. Get off your damn horse and quit ordering us around," Raven snapped.
"Qrow and Miss Schnee are my subordinates." Ozpin's subordinates. Qrow wasn't an instructor, thank gods, but even Weiss knew they held the same 'rank' as it were. "And Roman and Neo are both just as culpable as you in the crimes they've committed. Seeing as I'm therefore both the senior member of the Church and a proper citizen, I believe I am in fact in charge."
"Huh, when you put it like that…" Raven rolled her tongue, smirked, and stuck up her finger. "Fuck yourself, how about that?"
It was interesting, Weiss mused, how a single pulsing vein in someone's forehead could foretell the inevitable explosion that was soon to follow. The two women stared at each other, one seething in silence, the other smiling, dangling herself as a worm over the water's surface to bait a reaction.
Qrow rose to his feet and groaned, loudly, drawing everyone's attention.
"Well, I think that's my cue to go snoop around! You two try not murdering each other while I'm gone."
"Mr. Branwen, I would appreciate you -"
"Helping me get this stick out of my ass," Raven finished, grinning when Goodwitch's cheeks darkened. "What, not what you were going to say?"
Qrow pulled his head out of his shirt and ruffled his hair, shaking it out as best he could. "Weiss, maybe you ought to play mediator, eh? Get them to play nice."
"Wh-what?! Why me! She's your sister, you do something!"
"You got them both here, didn't you? That takes some magic that I don't have, kiddo." Qrow smiled, gave a playful salute, and slouched as he wandered towards the edge of camp. "Just try to make sure everything's in one piece when I get back. We'll take shifts or whatever," he laughed and retrieved his sword from the pile of belongings, slinging it over his shoulder. Weiss watched him saunter along, reaching what she was certain was the edge of a cliff, before gently descending, gradually disappearing.
Curious, Weiss jogged over to where Qrow had gone and watched him stroll down a grassy hillside, a gentle slope free of jutting rocks, precarious perches, and where one wrong step would mean certain doom. Her eyes followed the hill past Qrow, towards the bottom where it clearly leveled out with the marshes below, dropping off to her left where the cliff began.
"There's a hill…" she mumbled, gawking. A safe route, and there she'd been throwing herself at a dubious path.
Raven laughed, snorting and shaking her head. "Oh, right, that. You idiots actually climbed up, didn't you."
"We… We found a path of our own…" Weiss said defensively.
"Through a fucking cliff! To think I almost killed you for being stupid!" Weiss' cheeks darkened as Goodwitch's eyes did, folding her arms tight as Raven howled with laughter.
"Miss Schnee, you're certain I can't kill her?"
Exasperated, Weiss shook her head in reply, even though she really, really was tempted to say yes.
Well, they'd arrived at camp and the only thing to suffer any injury was her pride.
/+/+/+/+/+/
They gathered around a campfire that evening to talk, sitting around the flickering flames, doused in a drizzling mist that was just annoying enough to cling to exposed skin and chill without really making them wet. Weiss watched the flames dance as they spoke, envious of how malleable they were, how free.
Now was hardly the time for an existential crisis and yet she felt herself questioning things again. Was siding with the Church right? Siding with the likes of Raven and Roman? There was a schism inside the Church, that much was plain now, and what right did she have to be part of that?
Ah, right. She was a Hunter - a Warden now. She was a 'dog of the Church' as Raven so lovingly phrased it. Every. Single. Time. A weapon to be pointed at the enemy.
Another headache came on as she lamented current events, so she turned her thoughts elsewhere, finally homing in on the conversation around her. A late-night raid was still impossible for them. The Lavender estate had Faunus among their numbers, their group didn't, and without torchlight they were just as likely to bump into a wall or a guard as they were to break in safely. Skulking into the property in the dead of night was out then; they could do it early morning however just as the sun was rising. That would be the ideal time to strike.
Different ideas were floated around. Roman and Neo could show up under their guises and ask to meet with the Lady, cause a scene that would create an opening. That was Goodwitch's suggestion and one that Roman paled at, deemed too risky, and insisted they tried something else. The pseud-nobleman himself suggested they use Neo's magic and file in as a group, right through the front door. Reminiscent of a trick some Mistralian rebels used years ago when trying to overthrow a tyrannical regional ruler.
The rebels had all died in the attempt yet there might be some merit to the plan. Conceal themselves, be brought into the heart of the estate, then attack. It would be instantaneous, cause chaos, and if they were fortunate, make it impossible for them to coordinate any kind of escape.
"It would put the girls at risk," Qrow argued. "We can't put them in danger like that."
"Anything we do is going to put them in danger the moment we're found out, brother. This is the best way for us to get inside. Move swiftly, decisively," Raven grinned. "And brutally, if need be."
"Our objective is not to slaughter those inside. We are to retrieve the children and make our escape." Goodwitch's gaze hardened on Raven. "Do not think this is an excuse to satiate your bloodlust, you heathen. You will be kept in line, make no mistake."
"They took my daughter; their lives are forfeit for that alone." Still feels too little too late, Raven. "Hells, I should have killed you when I had the chance for the part you've played."
"Hey, hey, we're on the same side here," Qrow interjected, placing himself between Raven and Goodwitch. Both women had risen to their feet and stared through the lanky man at one another. Weiss held her breath while Neo bounced excitedly beside her, silent face twisted into a morbid smile.
It didn't come to blows and tensions settled, albeit temporarily. The two women made it feel as though they were sat on a volcano that might erupt at any point. 'If' was not the question but 'when'. Weiss only hoped they could finish what they'd come here to do before they decided to fight.
"If you ladies are finished, I have another proposal. Or do you feel confident enough that you don't to hear it?"
Goodwitch tore her eyes from Raven and narrowed them at Roman. "Speak."
"Planned on it. It's simple: I pull some strings and get us a wagon or something from Galloway. We can pass it off as me sending a shipment to the good lady's estate, saying that I'm sending her… I don't know, some dresses for her to try on. Wouldn't be the first time." Neo punched his arm and Roman winced. "What? She looks good in them!"
"Anyways, getting a cart would be easy. Neo makes us invisible and so long as no one opens their mouths we're golden. We get inside, probably brought to the warehouse, but that's fine. Any point between the gate and then we can break the spell and attack."
"Hm. For a coward you seem awfully keen on this plan," Raven quipped. "I thought you were opposed to being bait?"
"One, not a coward. I just fight my battles differently than you lot. And two," Roman grinned and gestured to them at large. "I won't be bait; you'll all be there with me. In the inevitable chaos that ensues I can even sneak away and try to locate the girls. It shouldn't be too difficult. They'll know what we're there for and send people to guard them. I'd only have to find where they're heading and alert you all to it."
It was risky for more reason than one. They'd be throwing themselves into the belly of the beast for starters. If they didn't capitalize on the momentary shock of their arrival, there was a good chance they might be overwhelmed. And what was preventing them from harming Ruby or Yang, or holding them hostage? Nothing. Once they were inside everything would already be compromised, they'd have little to lose. They needed the sisters alive, the enemy didn't. There was also the small matter of having to locate the sisters in the panic that would break out.
Weiss lifted her head and stared at Roman thoughtfully. "Is there a way we can find out where they're being held beforehand?" Cut out the need during the fighting, make it easier on them.
"We tried. There are half a dozen buildings on the estate including the manor. People were coming and going from each one, Wardens too. It could be any of the structures really. Although… Maybe there is one way we could find out?"
"Removing some of the uncertainty would go a long way to our success," Goodwitch said. "Go on. What do you have in mind?"
Were they going to try and sneak in beforehand? Attempt to kidnap someone and get an answer from them? Weiss thought of half a dozen possibilities until she caught Roman grinning at her. It was the kind of smile she'd seen on Nora's face just before they became involved in some ridiculous scheme, typically involving pranks or a liberal breaking of rules. Nothing serious, never law breaking, but enough that could get them a reprimand.
"Well… There is another way we could get inside…" Roman's smile widened.
Already she didn't like what was coming.
"How are your acting skills, Schnee?"
Next chapter is going to be fun. Maybe even satirical, once I've finalized Weiss' dialogue. I think you folks will enjoy it.
As always thanks to those who read and have a lovely, lovely day/week, until whenever the next chapter releases.