RWBY: A Lord's Tale

Chapter Fifteen: Welcoming Committee

"Try not to trip and embarrass yourself in front of the students," Velvet said sweetly, standing at the top of the airship ramp with arms crossed and an infuriating look on her face.

Quin scowled up at her. "I've got the coordination of a drunken cat, and no, that's intentional, thank you very much."

"Sure, sure," she said, brushing nonexistent lint off his shoulder. "Just don't drool, and you'll be fine."

He opened his mouth for a comeback, but she was already walking away with a wave, falling behind the rest of team CFVY. Yatsuhashi gave him a polite nod. Coco offered a two-finger salute. Fox gave a thumbs-up without even turning around.

And just like that, they were gone.

The rest of the airship trip had been thoroughly uneventful, no turbulence, no sky pirates, not even a system alert to liven things up. Which, given the last week or so, honestly felt like a trap.

Only upside was, he got along well enough with Team CFVY, which he really wasn't expecting, then again, they were hunters… hunters were always a little bit eccentric.

Now, Quin stood on the sun-drenched docks of Beacon Academy, squinting at the sprawling campus ahead. Stone walls framed by manicured hedges, tall towers glinting like beacons of humanity, and a central walkway that probably hadn't seen any real damage in deca- actually nevermind, that's a giant crater.

Behind him, nine brawny men stood in an uneven cluster- his summoned pikes, now weaponless, all of them having left their arms, be it swords, daggers, or spears, in the lockers back in the ship. They didn't seem to mind. In fact, they were taking in the scenery like tourists on a group hike, heads turning and eyebrows raised at every tree, light fixture, or passing bird.

One of them was about to chase a pigeon, only to get held back by two others… another suspected spy, they never did stop suspecting every animal as a spy.

Qrow let out a dry chuckle beside him, flask already tucked away. "You know," he said, nudging Quin with an elbow, "from a distance, this kind of looks like a sports team following their water boy."

Quin didn't even have time to retort before Qrow turned and started walking, waving for them to follow.

"C'mon, cupcake, let's get this over with before someone mistakes you all for a field trip."

"And you for the chaperone? Gods, that'd be a recipe for disaster." Quin's sneakers echoed against the scuffed stone path as they followed Qrow through the mostly empty courtyard. Class hours, apparently, which explained the lack of students.

The gentle breeze carried the scent of polished wood and freshly cut grass, mixing with the faint hum of distant generators. They passed tall castle like structures, each one marked with clean, minimalist signage: "Training Hall A," "Sparring Arena C," "Cafeteria."

Only a few janitors were out, one transporting a series of concrete bags to the aforementioned crater from earlier, another emptying a trash bin with earbuds in. None paid much mind to the strange little parade crossing the campus, theyve seen worse. Quin's nine pike soldiers trudged behind him in near perfect sync, leather boots slapping the ground. The sun caught on their chainmail, which honestly just screamed ineffective with how many guns exist in this world.

They rounded a corner near the dorms just as a nearby door burst open with a bang.

"EXCUSEMEGONNABELATESORRY!!"

A red blur shot past Quin so fast he barely had time to react. The girl, young, hooded and bright-eyed practically bounced as she ran, a half-eaten cookie clenched between her teeth and a weapon half her size bouncing behind her like a giant metal purse.

Ruby.

Seven others followed in a wave of panic and noise. A blonde guy in a hoodie tripped and swore. A silent girl in all black practically glided as she ran. A girl with pink hair tucked yelled something about "racing each other there" before getting yanked along by someone else. Another girl in white looked directly at Quin like he was the weird part of this equation before vanishing into the sprinting mass.

Jaune, Blake, Nora, and Weiss.

Some blonde girl brushed shoulders with him hard enough to make him buckle, which was a feat considering he was practically a Witcher in terms of durability and strength.

Yang.

Then they were gone. The courtyard was still again, minus a few spinning leaves and the distant echo of someone yelling "Two minutes!!"

Quin blinked, still leaning slightly to the side. "…Huh, You're good!" he called, though it was far too late.

Qrow just stared after them with a long-suffering look, running a hand down his face. "Wow, they didn't even acknowledge me," he muttered. "These brats."

Quin gave him a sideways glance. "Friends of yours?"

Better to ask than seem all knowing.

"Remember those nieces I talked about? Yeah, them." Qrow said, already walking again.

Quin jogged a few steps to catch up, glancing back at the now-empty path. His boots echoed in the space left behind, the only sound other than the distant call of some bird perched on the high ledges of the training tower.

So we're not that far into the show. First season, mid-episode 9-10.

Still, the timing was tight, he'd have to hurry… only about a year or so before this place goes to shit faster than Doomguy escaping Makyr control.

He squinted up at the looming spires of Beacon Academy, gothic towers reaching toward the sky like fingers of ambition. This place had always felt like a fairytale setting, even in the show. But being here in person, with the distant smell of steel and dust, blending into the polished stone and quiet wind? It felt real. And a little too peaceful.

Too quiet, Quin thought. I don't trust quiet… Last time it was quiet, we got ambushed by a couple Ursas.

They passed beneath an arched hallway, its shadow cooling the sun-warmed stone beneath his feet. His soldiers followed in silence, though he caught one of them subtly craning his neck to peek at a nearby decorative banner, Beacon's crest flapping gently in the breeze.

Qrow finally stopped near a pair of tall, reinforced doors. The entrance to the school… would need to enter through the academy before taking the lift, if Quin remembered correctly.

The doors opened with a soft hiss of hydraulics and weight, revealing a pristine hallway that stretched out like the spine of some great cathedral.

Inside, the scent changed. Gone was the loamy outside air, now it was fresh polish, faint ozone, and the sterile undertone of industrial ventilation. The soft hum of the building's systems mingled with the quiet murmur of distant lectures and the occasional clang of metal against metal.

Students glanced up briefly as they passed, most curious at the escort before shrugging and returning to their scrolls, without so much as a reaction Qrow just kept heading towards the headmasters office.

Quin walked a bit faster to keep up, sneakers whispering against the smooth flooring. One hand idly scratched at his neck while the other adjusted his jacket pocket, where Mordred, tucked against his side, rested lazily.

"Better get comfy, not sure where else I can put you-" Quin muttered.

They turned down a side corridor, this one more animated, murmurs behind thick doors, the occasional distant cheer or groan of defeat. Quin glanced toward one of the training rooms and paused, walking over to the tall window that looked into the space beyond.

Team CFVY was sparring against a group of other second-years. Coco had her shades on and her bag-turned-minigun braced on one arm, laying down suppressive fire in calculated bursts. Velvet rushed forward, using twin daggers made of hardlight, getting a clean hit in before shifting them to a mace. Yatsuhashi blocked a hammer strike that would've caved in a small car and returned with a calm, earth-shattering slash from his sword.

One of the combatants tried to vault over Fox, only to get shoulder-checked into the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Velvet caught sight of Quin through the glass and gave him a brief, unfocused wave. Quin grinned and raised his hand in return before mouthing 'good luck' and stepping back from the window.

They moved on.

Another room, this one a lecturehall, caught his attention as they passed. Through the wide open door, he could see Weiss standing primly in front of a small containment cage. Inside it, a boar-like grimm with a series of armour plates protecting its torso, its red eyes locked onto her like it could feel the SDC in her blood. A huntsman instructor stood next to her, telling a story from his youth about how he hunted nine of these Boarbatusks.

Weiss didn't seem fazed. She stared at the Grimm like it was beneath her, which, to be fair, it was in a way.

Quin gave the cage a once-over, then nodded to himself. "She'll be fine. Probably."

"Hey!" Qrow barked from up ahead. "You can take a tour later, Plushie-Actual. Elevator's this way."

But Quin only half-heard him as they passed one more door, this one thrown wide open. The room beyond was chaotic.

A green blur zipped between desks at lightning speed, a flurry of energy and words.

"-and while the Great War laid the groundwork for modern naming conventions," Dr. Oobleck rattled, gesturing wildly with his pointer while perched momentarily on a desk chair, "we must not- I repeat, must not- confuse it with the Faunus War, which occurred in a vastly different geopolitical context!"

He shot across the room again before anyone could blink, knocking chalk dust into the air like an explosion.

"Different governments, different causes, different mustache stylings!"

Quin blinked. "...Okay, yeah, that's him."

Mordred just stared blankly, before shifting inside his pocket.

"A handful, I know." He said, patting her head.

He hummed, then finally turned to catch up with Qrow. The soldier squad followed close behind, some now openly glancing around at the strange institution they'd entered.

Beacon.

It was surreal.

Shaking his head, Quin focused back onto his current goal

The elevator loomed ahead.

...

Meanwhile

Somewhere deep in the airships cargo hold…

The Vorpal Chicken had discovered paradise.

A single latch, improperly secured. A single vent, slightly ajar. That was all it took for the feathery terror to slip away from its master, vanishing into the belly of the ship like a rogue element on a mission of great importance.

The ration crates were stacked in uneven towers, some still marked with Vale's seals, others clearly re-packed by CFVY with dubious field ingredients. But none of that mattered. Because one box, one beautiful box, had been left open.

It perched atop the pile like a dragon claiming its hoard. Foil-wrapped energy bars? Devoured. Dehydrated jerky packs? Torn asunder with glee. Vacuum-sealed bags of preserved rice cracked open like ancient treasure chests. It pecked with a greed that'd make the devil cry, it tore through plastic, nibbled on biscuits, and even rolling its body across a bag of powdered eggs in what could only be described as a luxurious dust bath.

A tiny imperial banner, fashioned from a skewer and a shredded wrapper, had been planted triumphantly into the center of a mashed protein brick. Around it lay scattered crumbs.

The chicken reclined on a nest of instant noodle packets, beady eyes glowing in satisfaction.

Truly, it was king now.

1940 Words

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Alright! hope you enjoyed, I'll continue house sitting for the next couple days so expect some variation in update times.