Episode 3:
"Reprieve In Front of a Hanging Corpse"
Oscar didn't rightly know why the Hell they were here.
Honestly, the morning started quite fine. It had a cool breeze despite the Tundra-like crags, cliffs and mountains of the Frontier. The journey of clearing camp and travelling the road in silence was also pleasant. Still didn't get a chance to ride on one of their horses, though. Not even Madam Raven's… He would've liked that…
However, the clear morning subsided as, finally, at a zenith point of sunlight above them, the high noon revealed a new figure. Hanging by a rope, ripped and tarnished by decades of use, and tied to the sturdy, thick branch of a white, dead tree, the body of a hanged man hung solemnly.
Oscar kept his distance, holding the reins of both horses as both Brother and Sister stared at the deadman.
"Bullet wound." Qrow nodded toward the man's gut. He had a bit of weight on him, and the protruding, naked stomach was apparent. In fact, the only thing covering the man were two boots and his gloves, one slightly ripped, caked in the blood of a dripping hand.
"Blood's still seeping. No rot, yet… Two days?" Raven asked, just as monotonous as her brother.
"Probably." He hummed, but looked at the man's face. Lips swollen, nose broken. Missing teeth, if his eyes weren't lying to him. "Beaten to a pulp. Shot in the stomach. Wound on hand. Lynching?"
"That's all well and good," Oscar spoke up, making them both turn to him with accusing, red eyes, as Pines' voice echoed across the empty Tundra and small trees "But may I know why are we looking at a dead body?"
"This." Qrow said, almost matter-of-factly, as he waved toward the man's chest. Finally, squinting his eyes, Oscar could see it. A blue circle around a side-portrait of a wolf. The image was poorly drawn and faded, but it was clear.
"The FLA? Again?" Oscar almost groaned, hitching the horses forward, stepping closer as he neared the body. This was a bad idea, as Oscar instantly had the fumes of a slowly rotting corpse enter his nostril, not helped by the wind that was, just now, picking up.
Letting go of one of the reins, oscar gagged, holding his nose as he shivered, coughing a bit and swallowing down vomit-ridden spit. Qrow scoffed, but Raven rested a comforting hand on the boy's head, holding the recently let-go-of reins.
"Yes, that means we're entering their land. They don't leave up bodies if they want to ambush you." Qrow explained, taking his own horse's reins. "That means we have to go through the one place we know we shouldn't."
"You're not making sense…" Oscar said, slightly glaring up at the taller Hunter. "You're one of the most hated Humans ever by the Faunus. You literally slaughtered the one place that took them in as equal citizens."
Qrow, if he felt any offence to his words, didn't show it. In fact, Qrow scoffed once more, this time with a smirk. "Yes. Fun, isn't it? But we don't have a choice. Further West we go, the more Grimm can appear. And we've already been very lucky by how few there have been. Very fucking lucky." Qrow lost his smirk, a worried gaze sent Raven's way, her own red eyes returning a silent gaze.
The two got onto their horses, the wind picking up again, this time harder. As Oscar was forced on foot and to walk somewhat under the hanged man, no doubt some poor, for-some-reason racist human wanderer, the swift wind shook it and made it swing about like some sort of heavy bell. Oscar was faster in his pace, slipping the new hood and robe on as, in the distance, thunder rolled in.
Oscar was beginning to regret following these Hunters.
Sure, it was song material, especially the auto-biography kind, but it wasn't worth trudging through stone mud, shit pathways and endless rain. When the rain came a few hours before, it didn't stop. No, when it seemed like it could halt, thunder boomed and lightning drummed against the earth.
Groaning, Oscar sniffled and sneezed, the headache growing heavier as his fingers and toes felt cold. Regret filled his numbing heart, and the prickles of uncertainty nabbed at the cold spots of his tired body.
Soon, though, Oscar would get reprieve, as he did not notice Raven stalling her horse. Right after she slowed down to a crawl next to him, her hand dipped from her reins to pick the shorter young man up and settle him on the saddle in front of her.
Still shivering, Oscar managed out a "T-thank you…", before Raven slightly shielded him from further rain, her arms draping around him to keep the reins checked.
They did not rest for the night. It was impossible to set up camp, and despite the rain, these horses held strong while walking slowly. Frontier breeds were like that. Having dozed off a bit, Raven had nudged Oscar and stirred the young skald from sleep. Confused, Oscar groaned as his blurred vision was still covered in the dark of night and his hearing filled with the haze of rain-splatter.
His eyes centered, then, on torches. Shaken by the rainfall, the torches sat atop a wall of wood, scratched and scarred by conflict. By Grimm. Atop it, in towers and on its ramparts were dozens of people, all in thick, black raincoats, hoods over their heads, some smaller protrusions poking at the hoods or out of them. They all held rifles, either double barreled shotguns or precise, military grade semi-automatics.
Oscar gulped.
An FLA stronghold.
The gates only opened slightly for them. As paranoia dictates, the horses were stopped. A tall looking man came out, handling an axe in his hands. He held a lazy gait, but his heavy raincoat and almost over two meter large height and mass made him look the more threatening with the silhouette of his arrival.
"You come to Arrugia, humans. This land is owned by the Goddess' chosen people. Though we may accept your sinful, pitiful kind here, Faunus law rules here."
Qrow stared blankly at him, looking toward Raven afterward. Oscar noted that neither looked at all worried about dozens of gunmen staring down at them from above. Raven nodded, speaking up.
"We're weary travellers. Mercenaries, looking for a place to stay. We will respect your Laws and your Ways, if you offer us simply the chance of shelter." Raven spoke evenly. Good move, Qrow's voice might have been noticed, since he had been interviewed a couple of times, Oscar thought.
"... Who are you two?"
Raven spoke almost instantly. "I am Oriana, this is my brother, Regis. We're from Mistral."
"I thought Mistral didn't like mercenaries. Or emigrants…" The broad-shouldered Faunus said, eyeing Oscar, who had not been introduced.
"We were driven out. We are Polutaks."
"Dissidents…" The Faunus said, his broad nose now apparent. He had his horns cut off. A bull, Oscar deduced. Nodding toward the skald, he gruffed out: "Who's he, then?"
"Just someone we picked up." Raven nudged Oscar.
Thinking fast, he introduced himself. "O-... Oswald Pettigrew."
Being under the bull Faunus' gaze was uncomfortable. Especially as he idly weighed his axe. Shrugging his shoulders, the bull simply commented before stepping aside: "Weird name. Whatever. You can go in…"
Almost immediately, Qrow softly spurred his horse onward with a click-click of his tongue and a nudge with his boots. Raven followed, setting forth a small sigh of relief as they passed the gate and it closed behind them. The main street was around thirty houses long, branching off toward the left and right toward more houses and alleyways. Stores, garages, hangars, communal houses…
They saw some humans, doing some cleaning, even in the harsh rain. Most Faunus simply sat around or were there holding a gun and walking about boredly. They stared at the three of them atop the pair of horses. Qrow met their gazes challengingly, almost in stupid subborness, but Raven sent him a chasstising scowl, which set his gaze as straight as her's and Oscar's.
Hitching their horses at the Hostel, the three of them slowly entered it, and a soft tune played.
Spotting a far off in the corner table, Raven patted Oscar on the back and pointed towards it. "Go warm up there. It's close to the chimney." As Oscar nodded and walked over, the bartender behind the sizable and dimly lit bar coughed roughly. His wolf-like ears perking up, the yellow eyes centered on Oscar.
"I can smell the filth of humanity on you, kid. You don't get to sit there."
"On whose authority?" Qrow challenged, letting his voice enter out from his mouth. Gazes turned in the hotel's bar, blinking and glaring, but some were impressed. Among those were humans, and a certain pair in the same kind of hood and robe of secrecy as the current heroes of our plightful journey.
"Mine. I won the place, human. And you're not getting near my chimney. Human seats are there." Jerking a thumb toward the place where most of the humans solemnly ate, Qrow glared toward the path. Oscar fidgeted nervously as Qrow was about to open his mouth again, but Raven put a hand on his shoulder.
"Come on…" she implored and Qrow growled almost like an animal, walking off as Raven bowed her head apologetically. Oscar followed behind the two of them, feeling the hateful gaze of the bartender on the back of his head. Oscar couldn't help but enjoy the upbeat music despite the rundown-ness of the place, the glares he was getting, the horrible stench of wet dogs and the thunderstorm outside.
"Hopefully they have good booze." Qrow commented, sitting down bestie Raven, with Oscar facing them both and the pair whispering in the back, one very clearly pointing at them as they animatedly whispered to a slab of a person, taking in the information they were whispering and taking said pointing finger and pushing it down. Repeatedly. Since the other very animated person was pointing at them a lot.
Oscar was about to notify his two comrades, but Raven was glaring at Qrow, speaking in a hushed but very aggressive tone.
"You WANT them to lynch us? I counted fifty soldiers here, Qrow. Even we can't take that many while surrounded."
Qrow groaned, massaging his forehead before shuffling his hands into his pockets. Raven huffed, reclining back and checking something in her own backpack, as Qorw pulled out a bunch of Mistral Reoul, the coins jingling. Oscar blinked, taking them.
"Go and buy us some beer."
"You sure they take Reoul?" Oscar inquired, and Qrow shrugged.
"One way to find out. Besides, it fits with our 'past'..." Qrow said, sending a side-long glare at his sister, who vehemently ignored him. Sighing, Oscar went for it and marched over to the counter. Putting the coins down, he urr'd as the bartender blankly stared him down, idly cleaning a glass mug.
"What kind of drinks do you have?"
Looking down at the Reoul coins, the bartender huffed. His faunus eyes traced back up to Oscar with a small scowl.
"For humans?"
Oscar blinked, opening his mouth to say anything, but he was cut short.
"No. We don't have anything for humans. We have water."
Oscar blinked, again, this time slowly looking down at the Reoul. Shyly pointing at them, he asked. "W-well, will you need those for the wa-..." They were already snatched away. All of them. Oscar didn't know how much, or even if, water cost here, but it certainly wasn't with 80 Reoul. Three glasses were set and, soon, clear mineral water was rushing into them from a large tankard. Taking a few lemons, he sliced and squeezed three slices into each, leaving each slice in their respective glass.
"T-thank you, sir."
The man grunted in affirmation, as Oscar balanced all three glasses in his hands, carrying them over. Qrow groaned as he saw what was in them, as they were settled down in front of him.
"Water? Really?"
"Yes."
"Where's the cash, then?"
"... He took it."
"He took 80 fucking Reoul for three glasses of fucking water…!?" Qrow almost yelled out, making some heads turn their way, especially the bartender's, before even slapped him across the back of his head.
"Qrow. It's no use whining about it. Just drink up…" Raven sighed, sending Oscar an apologetic smile as the skald sat down, returning with a nod. Readjusting the guitar he put on the seat next to him, Oscar drank.
He then spotted them watching again. One of them noticed the human-slab from before. Emotionless, not betraying anything. But the other one looked around as if looking for a way to hide from Oscar's faze. Finally getting the chance he needed, Oscar leaned in to Qrow and Raven, who took notice.
Still staring at the two, Oscar whispered.
"Those two have been staring at us and whispering ever since we came here."
Qrow almost immediately looked over his shoulder and glared, spotting them both looking, before they had averted their gazes completely. Qrow hummed, about to stand up, but Raven held his arm, pulling him back down.
"They might just be curious." Raven reasoned and Oscar offered an agreeing nod, but Qrow persisted. Rising from his seat, Qrow walked over to them, his red eyes staring them down. One of them was clearer now, a she. And, oddly enough, tanned skin with emerald eyes and deep-red hair. The other still kept his gaze forward. Crossing his arms over his chest, Qrow glared down at the girl.
"What're you looking at…"
"You, of course." The girl said, almost matter of factly. Then, the other one looked up. Equally tanned skin, black eyes glared through black, raven hair, a stubble growing on the chin and a strand of purple laced amidst the raven locks. "We don't want to seem like we're bothering you, mister Mercenary."
Qrow, looking at the young man, scoffed. "How do you know I'm a mercenary?"
"No one carries himself in that gait. Your feet are clearly limping, uneven steps suggesting a bullet wound. Your scars on your face tell me that your wounds were not repaid in favor, especially with a large physique like that. Also, I can literally see the broadsword on your horse outside." Nodding toward a window next to their table, all three heads, including Raven's and Oscar's, peered outside the window.
Strapped to the hunter's horse was said broadsword.
"A relic of sorts… Only one type of mercenary wears-..."
"Finish that train of thought, kid," Qrow growled, their eyes meeting again, this time Qrow had an aura of bloodlust on him from the drip of his words. "I'll show you what I can do with that blade."
"... I understand. They clearly let you in thinking you were someone else. And with the exchange of Reoul, a baseless currency even here, you've cemented the fact you hardly know this place." The boy continued, the girl in between Qrow and him fidgeted uncomfortably.
"You always act like some detective, kid?" Qrow growled, now putting a hefty arm onto the stool. More people were looking their way, especially the barman.
"You always make such a fuss?" The tan-skinned boy asked, revealing more of his face, though barely, leaning back and appraising the old Hunter. Qrow clenched the stool and it, quite literally, somewhat cracked under the squeeze. Raven was about to stand up, but it was the girl between the Hunter and the boy that deactivated the situation.
"Woah! Okay, very sorry, sir. My brother here is just -very- suspicion of… well… everyone! Haha! Anyway, my name is Nahama abn Ibsha Liehin." Qrow had leaned back, arching an eyebrow at the name as the girl revealed more of her round face. Her tan was more white, suggesting that she was not a true native of the land she came from.
"Wow, Baradin-Assan." Oscar said quietly, transfixed. The boy had pulled away his hood as well, revealing a small turban holding up black hair, that pushed out from the back.
"You can call her Nora. My name is Ren… Short for Reshid abn Ibsha Liehin." The boy extended his hand to Qrow, who stared at it, before taking it with the same palm as the one on the stool.
"Aha… Name's Cromwell." Qrow lied, looking at Raven and Oscar. "That's my sister, Roxanne and our cousin, Oscar." Oscar was caught off by them using his real name, but waved nonetheless.
"Very good. May we join you at your table?"
Qrow frowned, but looked to Raven. Raven simply shrugged, before Qrow allowed them with a grumble of muttered words and a wave of his hand, waltzing back to his table. Raven had scooted over for Qrow, as Ren and Nora took their seats together by Oscar, who was pushed further into the booth they had taken.
"What brings you and your band here, Cromwell?"
"I'd ask the same. Not a lot of people from the desert going around the Frontier these days."
"... That is true, for we have our own frontier."
"The Jihad." Nora said, matter-of-factly, with a sparkly smile. Despite the anxious air around the table, she seemed to be the happiest, while Raven the most neutral. Oscar was fidgeting anxiously, looking between the stern faced Ren and glaring Qrow.
"Jihad, whatever you call it… Never seen a guy from Baradin-Assan fight, though." Qrow appraised Ren again, before the boy bowed his head humbly. "I would be honored to make a square and spar with you, Cromwell, but it is night. To fight at night is to besmirch the Mother." Ren cast a sidelong gaze at the window, and a distant, cloud-and-mountain occluded moon on the night sky horizon. Qrow followed his gaze with a disappointed frown, before shrugging.
"Hey, we can just wait for a bit of clouds and the moon won't know a thing." The Hunter said, grinning. Qrow seemed to jump at something, and Oscar saw that Raven was glaring at him. The musician quickly understood that Raven wasn't one for spitting on Avi- the shattered Moon. Qrow grumbled, before a tedious silence entered. It was separated with silent clunks of mugs hitting tables, as drinks began to be drunk.
Oscar indulged in it himself, of course.
Little did they know, that every single Faunus in the room was listening.
And they awaited for the sun to rise.