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'Angler-Town' was simultaneously more than he'd expected, and less.

It was a settlement right about a couple miles long, clutching the entire stretch of a shallow beach at the inside of an equally shallow bay, either side tapering up to continue on in either direction in rolling hills, cut off at the ocean's edge in craggy cliffs. Its wall wasn't perfectly straight, reaching in and out in square, blocky sections of dark stone. Districts, built seemingly as needed out from wherever the community had started. Why, he didn't know for sure - there weren't any of the big signs for a corporation claiming to own it. The roads were just as grid-like, wider avenues cutting up and across them in little 'plus' shapes with roads spinning off them as needed.

But the ordered nature stopped there.

The houses were clustered in random, tight clusters, some even stacked on top of others with stairells outside leading up to them. Bigger houses were built further back, but none had a yard big enough to really play in. Even so, they had them fenced in, usually in rough, jagged-topped iron. Warehouses were built in seemingly random clusters all along the beach, with docks, piers, what he could guess were fish markets by proximity, and boat-houses scattered randomly around them. Further out, over the water, odd little shacks with smoke trailing away from them were built in wide stretches between thin piers, rolling with the waves as Jaune knelt in the woods and watched.

"Are those… Houses?"

"Most likely." Gnarl answered, sitting on a rock so he could rest at Jaune's shoulder-height.

"But…" He sighed, unsure of how to put his thoughts into words before finally settling on, "That looks really crappy."

"Hmph." The Minion snorted, "Quite. Likely the slum area, where the poorest of the settlement squat between hours begging or slaving away at whatever menial little service they can."

"Faunus?"

"Your little pet did say this town was unfriendly to them."

"Fiona isn't my-" He sighed and shook his head tiredly, "It's not- She doesn't like me like that, Gnarl. It's a business relationship, nothing more."

"Oh I'm sure it's-"

"Gnarl." He barked, scowling behind his mask as his hand curled steadily into a tight, armored fist at his side. Schooling his temper, he sighed and said, "Cut the games. At least for now. We're in the field, you should know better than to play your games."

"That…" Gnarl sighed and bobbed his head, "That is fair enough, Master. Back to it, then. Yes, that is likely where the Faunus are forced to stay. Your- The Lady, rather, she said one of the workers 'escaped'?"

"She did." He nodded, looking over it all and humming. "The wall only has a few entrances… None near the poorer district. And for all the piers and the, uh, floaty bits, there aren't any actual boats there, either. The Humans probably live in the nicer areas, doing shipping and whatever, and force the Faunus to handle the more dangerous work."

"You know," Gnarl hummed, "that would have sounded much smarter if you left out 'the, uh, floaty bits'."

"Yeah, probably." He shrugged, "Luckily, no one important is here to judge me. Eh?"

"You wound me, Master."

"Odd, since my stabby thing is still in its sheath." Jaune chuckled and stood, rolling his shoulder until it popped. "Alright. I'll head in, see what I can find out. Gnarl, you keep the Minions here, for now. Hide out here in the trees, avoid contact. If I find what I'm after, I'll come out and lead you all in to… Well, do something."

"Conquer?"

"No." He grunted sharply, "Rescue. As in, the Faunus?"

"Know what would make that easier?" Gnarl pursed his lips and waggled his eyebrows. "Conquest. Take the settlement, and you take over their protection, too."

"Gnarl-"

"I am merely suggesting you keep the option in mind, Master." The Head Minion added, throwing his tiny hands up in surrender and smiling thinly. "Fish and whatever else we could drag out of the sea would add some extra weight to our food stocks. And if this place's runners are as bad as we were told…"

"I'd be better…" He frowned, thinking about it. It made sense in most ways, aside from the 'taking land' part and how they'd mesh that with Atlas if they came looking.

But then, he hadn't seen so much as a boat or drone in his entire time out here so far. So did they even care what happened out here? Someone had to, surely. The Huntresses had, at least, but they weren't Atlas. It was just businesses out here. A quarry, a fishing town - probably more, if he started looking. So is that all these fringes were, then? Investments Atlas didn't care about?

"For now," he said, "we're just investigating. Worst case, though… Well, maybe the Huntresses can take over."

"Mhm." Gnarl nodded, "Maybe. Under your protection, they would do quite well, I feel."

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes, "Just be ready in case I have to come out and get you."

"On that note, Master…" Gnarl hummed, "Why not just call for us with your Gauntlet?"

"Because… I didn't know I could do that?"

"Oh, it's rather simple." The Head Minion chuckled turning and sliding, seemingly effortlessly, into that sort of superior voice he used to teach, "You have felt the Mana flow when you issue commands, yes? Or, well, properly, I mean. Through your Gauntlet's Authority. Yes?"

"Yeah…" He hummed and thought, "Wait, are you saying I can just-"

"Think of us, these Minions specifically, and command us to 'Come'." Gnarl nodded, "We will feel the urge, through our connection, and come for you. You will lack the fine control of being present to express yourself more reactively, but…"

"Can I do it with you still in charge of them?" He asked quickly, curling and uncurling his Gauntlet slowly, eyeing the gem as he thought the new plan he was hatching through. When Gnarl nodded he smiled, "Alright. Same plan as before, but if we're going to take them down, I'll make as big a fuss as I can. Draw as much attention as possible-"

"And have us sweep into the rear." Gnarl hummed, "Clever, Master… Very clever. I see several points of interest our numbers could take to break the defenders', presuming you don't want a massacre."

"I don't." He shook his head, "Take prisoners, don't hurt anyone you don't have to, but get it done quick. I can trust you for that?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good." He turned away, tucking his cloak around him, and sighed, "I'm off, then."

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The tired guard leaned against the side of the rusted, iron gate with a sigh, thick coat wrinkled and spotted by snow and gloved fingers toying with a pen as Jaune approached. As he reached the man, he sighed and grunted, "Name, reason for visiting, point of origin."

"Uh…" He shrugged, "John, from Mistral, originally, but-"

"I meant where you came from just now, to get here."

"Ah." Rude… "I'm a Hunter, so… The Woods?"

"The woods?"

"Yeah." He nodded, smirking behind his mask and gesturing at his armor. "What, do I look like a wood-cutter to you?"

"Fair enough." He sighed, shaking his head, "Species?"

"Uh, Human…?" He cocked his head, suspicion rising sharply at the question. "Why is that important?"

"Just the check-list." The man answered, meeting his eyes. "Got a problem, you can keep walking. Or, if you prefer, I'll log you from Atlas origin, out on a Hunt for your reason for visiting, and you can head in. Get a bite to eat, warm up, the like."

"Fine." He sighed, "Forget it."

"Smart man." The guard nodded, turning and pressing a button just barely hidden from Jaune's angle by a protruding brick. The gate groaned, then screeched quietly as it opened, and the man sighed again. "Hate these damn gates…"

"I bet." He nodded, heading in as they opened wide enough and then grimacing as they groaned again and slid closed.

Inside, the old, greying asphalt road was wide, and covered in slush and muck. Mud from outside, trailed along in short spurts from the gate where trucks, carts and wherever else had come and gone, bits of paper, glass and rocks littered the ground, and filthy ice and snow melted and trodden into ugly slush spread out over everything. The buildings were nice, though, with colorful, if faded, brick facades and even wood panelling on a few. He passed by shops, mostly selling stuff to survive in the cold but also a few offering more general stuff like toys, electronics and the like, with the small additions on top he'd seen from afar that he recognized now were houses for the owners or workers. A few of both meandered up and down the street, talking quietly to each other and generally just going about their day.

"It's nice…" He murmured, making his way down the road as he looked around. "Nicer than it looked ata distance, anyways."

"Hey, boy, you a hunter?" He turned as a man leaned out of a heavy wooden door and cocked his head, long white beard spilling down over his apron messily. When Jaune nodded, he smiled and waved a hand at the thick, black glass front of it and said. "I figured from your looks. Bit early, but bar's open for ya if ya want."

"I, uh, don't have anything on me."

"No worries." The old man shrugged, "I can spare a drink 'n some dinner for a good young man out there protectin' us."

"Alright." He nodded, "Why not, right?"

"Right." The man beamed a smile with just a few too few teeth and held the door open as he came over. "How's about some fish 'n taters and a nice Spud Lite?"

"I'm, uh…" He blinked, "Not a drinker. Is water okay?"

"Your stomach." The man shrugged, following him into the dark bar.

Inside, the bar was… Well, almost stereotypical enough to make him laugh. Round seats, big enough for small groups, were scattered across an old, creaking wooden floor with chairs upside down on top of them. Posters of fish, deer and other hunting targets were splattered across the walls, in between a handful of actual trophies, mostly deer but with a nice center piece made out of an Ursa of some kind right at the back, over the bar. Which was itself simple - a long counter, stretching from one wall to the other in the narrow building with a break at the far end of one side for the barman to slip through, stools in front, and a wall of bottled liquors across from him.

"So," the old man smiled, wrinkles deepening with the gesture as he leaned on the counter, "how do ya like your taters?"

"Uh… Mashed with salt?" The man nodded and turned around, slipping through the old, weathered looking kitchen swing-door.

He wasn't left in the warm quiet for long, though. The man came back with a plate of the promised portions inside a few minutes and even chuckled when Jaune cocked his head in surprise. "I make portions ahead. First big hour's comin' up in a bit, so fryin' up the snack foods and the like. Doesn't taste as good but drunks don't taste much, yeah?"

"Fair." Even if he said that, the fish tasted delicious - fresh, crispy, and with a nice splash of lemon and pepper. While he ate, he left his helmet beside his plate and watched the man clean a few cups, setting them on top of the bar as he got ready. Finally, though, he spoke up, "You know, I'm here on a job, actually."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." He nodded, weighing his options and tossing together his story. "Contact in Mantle sent me. She's been hearing some… Odd reports around here."

"Grimm?" The man asked, hand slowing down in its work.

"Faunuss." He answered, "Or rather, how they're treated here. I went north first, answering a distress call of sorts, and got some corroboration."

"Ah…" He frowned and hummed, then flicked the door a look and grimaced even more deeply. "I'd, uh, rather not say nothin' 'bout not Faunus. Don't want no trouble."

"No trouble." He promised, nodding as he tapped his fork on his potatoes. "Just a confirmation. I'll handle the digging, the looking. I just want to know if I'm wasting my time."

"And why do ya think I'd care to help a bunch o' Faunus?"

"A nice old man offering a Hunter a free meal? Why wouldn't I think you'd be willing to help?" He raised an eyebrow, smirked, and pointed his fork at the man. "And I notice you called them 'Faunus'. Not 'animals' or whatever else. Faunus, twice now."

"Well… You're attentive, ain't ya?"

"It comes with the territory." Of being Overlord more than being a Hunter, at least for Jaune, but he left that unsaid. Instead he said, "If you really don't want to help, I won't press you. But I also won't name you if you do."

"...I ain't got much to give." The man sighed, leaning on the counter again, this time closer. Almost conspiratorially, even, with how he watched the door. "Mayor don't like me, so leaves me out o' most stuff. "

"Why doesn't he like you?"

"I had office 'fore 'im." He answered, "Run every few years, get about a third o' the vote. He don't like competition, see?"

"Mhm." He nodded, "Don't worry. I don't need a lot. Just enough to start."

"Right, well…" He sighed, "Wait a few hours, then head on toward the shanties. Mayor likes to send some of his boys 'round there to make some noise, so they 'know their place'. Head down there an' you'll hear the noise."

"What about the Faunus?" He asked, "Won't they be out and about?"

"Hell no." The old man scoffed, "Sun goes down, they get inside. Or… Well, best they be inside."

"Alright." He nodded, "You fine if I wait here?"

"No problem for me." The man's eyes crinkled, suddenly, and he smirked. "In fact, good cover story if you're willin' to do a scratch o' work."

"What kind?"

"Bouncin'." He nodded at the door and explained, "Just sit there. Look intimidatin'. Anyone I tell to leave, I point ya out, and even a drunk ole' sob oughta tuck 'n run. Send you off 'round half past ten, with a bit o' Lien, an' you'll find what you're after. No trouble."

He only needed a minute to think it over before he shrugged and straightened, "Probably the best way this'll go for me. Toss in some more of that fish before I head out and call it a deal?"

"Deal." The old man smirked, "An' thanks. Some of these folk get a bit rowdy when I turn 'em off from their drinks."

"Yeah." He chuckled, remembering the few times his father had been needed down at the bar back in Ansel when folks got a bit too drunk for their own good. Rowdy as they'd been, from what he'd been told, just him showing up was enough to diffuse it.

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BRB the 2nd :

Thanks!

Lea Rosenwulf :

Ye, this story mainlines as comedy - but it has its darkness, too. RWBY is much the same, and this short arc will also demonstrate that to an extent.

Red Demon Eye :

Not trusting Ozpin is generally a good pick, lol

Bored King :

Except that he out and out has one helping translate old texts SPECIFICALLY to help his magical knowledge. The MOMENT Fiona, or any of them really, realize that he lied or with-held about this he would lose their trust. Better to be up front, and let them draw their own conclusions from there, than seem deceptive.

He's also actively keeping some. His real name, for one. Or that he should be dead. You know, the secrets they WON'T happen across in the books?