RWBY: A Lord's Tale

Chapter Nine: Qrow Branwen?!

"…So, Plush Whisperer," Qrow started, screwing the cap back onto his flask with a tired click, "you mind telling me just what the hell you're doing out here?"

Quin blinked.

Once. Twice.

"…Sorry, what did you just call me?"

Qrow gestured vaguely at the plush still clutched to his chest. "You're cuddling that thing like it's an emotional support animal."

"I-! She's not- I wasn't cuddling," he sat upright with an offended huff, brushing leaves off himself and trying to make it seem like that was the reason his face was red. "I was using her as a, uhmm… Tactical Consultation Device!"

"Right, and I'm a woman."

"You're not," Quin said, too quickly.

"Exactly."

A moment of silence followed. One of the slimes let out a single, wet plop before oozing behind him, wanting no part in this conversation.

"…Okay," Quin finally muttered, rubbing the back of his head, "so maybe I got a little lost."

Qrow sighed and ran a hand through his ruffled hair. "Kid, you do realize you're halfway to Grimm-chow, right? If I hadn't come along, those things would've eaten you and your plushie."

He jabbed a finger at Mordred for emphasis.

"She would've fought back."

Qrow gave him a long look, then turned and spat off to the side with a dry laugh. "Sure, bet she bites."

"And I'm not entirely alone either," Quin protested, flailing an arm toward his slimes and then back to Mordred. "I've got… backup!"

Right on cue, one of the slimes slipped off a rock and faceplanted into the dirt with a squish. Another was halfway through munching on some suspicious-looking mushrooms.

Qrow raised an eyebrow.

"…Kinda." He added half heartedly.

He crouched slightly to get a better look at the slimes. "Alright, I'll bite, what exactly do they do?"

"Backup things!"

"Right, well, unless one of 'em can sprout a sword and parry, I'm not convinced." Qrow squinted.

He stood back up and shook his head. "You're lucky I found you before the bigger ones did."

…

"…And seriously? Tactical Consultation Device?"

"I'm serious! And she's got a name, you know."

"Oh, my bad. I bet Ms. Plush over here also gives great combat advice and tax tips," he added sarcastically.

"She does…" Quin muttered under his breath.

Qrow gave him a look, then just started walking, motioning with a tilt of his head.

"Come on. Let's get you somewhere that isn't crawling with monsters."

He hesitated for a moment, then scrambled to his feet, only to promptly trip over a root and stumble face-first into a patch of moss.

"Yup. That checks out." Qrow didn't even flinch.

"I meant to do that," Quin grumbled into the dirt before pushing himself up, brushing off another handful of leaves, and trotting after him.

The woods weren't especially dense, but they were littered with every conceivable type of obstacle: rocks, vines, uneven ground, and the occasional low-hanging branch that Quin somehow failed to notice until it was kissing his forehead. He yelped, staggered, and nearly knocked over one of his slimes.

"This forest hates me."

"No," Qrow replied, not looking back. "I hate this forest, you're just bad at walking."

"I am not- gah!" Quin tripped again, this time over a half-buried log. He caught himself just before falling flat and let out a pitiful wheeze. "Okay maybe a little."

One of the slimes offered a sympathetic blurble and bounced over a nearby stick with an almost offensive amount of grace compared to its master.

Qrow took another drink from his flask. "Kid's already pickin' up my luck…"

The walk, if it could even be called that, took another ten minutes, during which Quin managed to get thwacked by three more branches, trip over two more roots, and somehow step in a puddle that hadn't even been there before.

By the time they reached a clearing, Qrow was half-convinced the trees had it out for the kid.

"There," he said, gesturing with his flask toward a small, temporary camp. It was simple: a weather tarp rigged between two trees, a bedroll, a dimly burning lantern on a rock, and a metal pot resting above embers that were only just hanging on.

Quin collapsed into the dirt like he'd crossed a desert. "Beautiful. Never leaving."

"You're not sleeping on the ground."

"I might be dying. My legs forgot how to bend."

"Too bad," Qrow said, kicking over a spare blanket toward him. "You're lucky I'm feeling generous and haven't tossed you into the nearest ditch yet."

"Is that the non-generous version of you?"

"Depends on the day." The huntsman settled onto a nearby crate and pulled out a piece of jerky. "You want food or you gonna keep cuddling your little tax consultant?"

"Yes, please…" Quin turned a shade redder and quietly moved Mordred just a little closer. "And she's a strategic asset, ok?"

Qrow didn't even look up, tossing a strip over to him.

"Sure, kid. Sure."

The crackle of fire filled the air for a moment, and Quin's slimes slowly settled down around them, forming a loose blob perimeter.

"…So," Quin said cautiously, "you're really Qrow Branwen?"

"Mmhm."

"The Qrow? Huntsman? Alcoholic? Teacher? Broody bird guy?"

The huntsman paused, giving him a side-eye.

"…Bird guy?"

"I mean... your name is Qrow… like the bird."

The old man just sighed, fingers pressing down the bridge of his nose.

"Sorry. I just… it's kind of a lot, you're like famous… sort of." Quin winced.

Qrow raised an eyebrow. "Sort of?"

"Well, you're not like... Schnee famous."

They sat in silence for a moment longer, save for the occasional pop from the fire and a soft, curious gurgle from one of the slimes as it investigated a pebble.

"Why are you out here?" Quin finally asked, his voice quieter now. "I thought you worked as a teacher now?"

"I still do." Qrow said, biting into the jerky. "But someone sent me here for a mission, so here I am."

"…Oh."

"Yeah."

More silence.

Quin glanced toward Qrow, who looked comfortably distracted, gnawing on the last of his jerky and lazily poking at the fire with a half-charred stick.

Good.

He shifted slightly, thumb brushing against the inside of his sleeve, and with a faint flicker, the familiar soft-blue holographic panel blinked to life just above his wrist. He winced as the screen loaded.

[ Notification: Unit Lost (Slime) ]

[ Notification: Inventory Saturated – 1x Sap, 1x Slime]

Figures.

He sighed through his nose, barely loud enough to be heard over the fire. One of the slimes gave him a watery blop in response, as if in mourning for its fallen comrade. He subtly dismissed the panel with a swipe and wiped his hand on his pants.

"You lose something?" Qrow asked without looking.

Quin jumped slightly, ears burning. "What? No."

The huntsman gave him a slow side-eye. "Uh-huh."

Quin grumbled something unintelligible and hugged his knees a bit closer. One of the remaining slimes snuggled up beside him like a warm, squishy beanbag.

"Don't worry," Qrow said, his voice dry, "I'm sure your tax consultant will file the proper paperwork."

"She has emergency protocols for loss of assets," He muttered under his breath, almost proudly.

Qrow didn't even blink. "Of course she does."

He took another pull from his flask, leaned back on the crate with a soft groan, and let his head tilt up toward the canopy.

"…How long have you been out here, kid?" he asked suddenly.

"Uh… like…since this morning?"

Qrow let out a short laugh. "You look like you've been through two weeks and a forest fire."

"I fell a lot."

"Yup." Qrow nodded. "Saw that, heard some of it, too.."

"It's not my fault the entire forest is full of traps."

"It's not." He took another sip. "It's your fault for walking into them."

Quin groaned and flopped backward onto the dirt. "This is fine, I'm fine, I'm adventuring… technically."

"You're camping," Qrow corrected, "and you're still alive, so guess that's a win."

"...Barely."

Qrow finally cracked a small smirk. "Barely's better than dead."

Quin groaned again, louder this time. One of the slimes let out a sympathetic blurble.

Mordred sat beside him, her stitched smile twitching ever so slightly.

…

The fire had burned down to red-glowing coals, casting long shadows that reached like claws into the woods beyond the clearing. The night air was cool now, brushing gently through the trees and stirring the edges of the tarp above them. Somewhere in the distance, a nightbird let out a high, rattling call, followed by the faint howl of something far less welcome.

The old man was already out cold, if you could call it that. He'd sprawled onto the bedroll with all the ceremony of a sack of potatoes, one arm over his face and the other clutching a flask against his ribs.

Quin lay awake, arms folded behind his head, his plushie sitting upright on his stomach as a sort of guardian. One of the slimes snored softly near his feet.

He wasn't tired, well he was, just not the kind of tired sleep could fix.

Above him, the stars stretched on forever…. Distant… Indifferent… Beautiful in a way that made him feel very, very small… makes you wonder if those gods are still out there, or if they've long since moved onto a different creation, a different universe.

He let out a breath, a quiet one, as he tried to focus on the constellations, unfamiliar and almost entirely different to his own world.

And then.

PING

The soft blue light of the system panel appeared above him, almost blinding him with its sudden appearance.

---

[ Victory - Ursa Defeated ]

[Authority +1 (Temporary Combat Bonus)]

[ Victory - Ursa Defeated ]

[Authority +1 (Temporary Combat Bonus)]

[ Major Victory - Deathstalker Defeated ]

[ Gacha Spin +1 ]

[ Victory - Ursa Defeated ]

[Authority +1 (Temporary Combat Bonus)]

---

The timestamps were clustered. All within less than a minute.

He stared at the screen. Then glanced toward Qrow. The huntsman hadn't moved. Still out like a light.

The slimes stirred slightly, reacting to the sudden tension in their summoner. One sat upright, like it, too, had just received the same alert.

Quin swallowed, eyes flicking back to the glowing notifications.

"…That's not normal."

He shouldn't have anyone capable of such a thing... Ursa didn't go down easy, and Deathstalkers? Those were rare, violent things…

He reached out and tapped the notification for more detail.

---

[ MVP: Vorpal Chicken ]

---

"Okay," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "Forgot about him..."

Mordred leaned against his ribs. The plush was silently watching the trees.

He stayed like that for a while. Lying flat beneath the stars, hoping maybe the night would take pity on him and allow him some well needed rest.

It didn't.

He rolled onto his side. Then onto his back again. Mordred adjusted with him silently, falling into place like she always did. The embers of the dead fire snapped once, as a cool breeze whispered through the treetops.

Still awake.

He shifted again, squeezing his eyes shut tighter… hells, he even focused on his breathing.

Nothing.

After a long minute, he opened one eye. The slimes hadn't moved much, just rose and fell slowly with the rhythm of their resting states.

He reached up… Just one quick spin, then he'd try to sleep again.

The soft flick of his wrist brought the screen back with a familiar shimmer. His thumb hovered only a second longer this time.

Tap.

---

[ Rolling... ]

[ Rolling... ]

[ Rolling... ]

★★ Bad North — 9x Pike Army (Energetic)

A hyperactive legion of pointy sticks sprinting at their enemies, yelling war cries and probably tripping over each other. Increases speed for all allies. Can't stop, won't stop.

---

Before he could dismiss the result, the system pulsed. A glowing warning triangle popped up.

---

[ Assimilation Complete — Spokesperson Module Integrated ]

System Capabilities... 125%

---

A bright red flash burst to life in front of him, far too loud, and formed the shimmering, smiling visage of the UAC Spokesperson: a clean-cut business-casual hologram with the expression of someone who just drank a gallon of espresso and absolutely wants to sell you something illegal.

"HELLO, USER!" the hologram beamed, startling the nearby slimes and nearly giving Quin a heart attack. "Against all odds, you're still breathing. The system has logged your continued existence as 'encouraging'!"

Quin flailed, hissing, "Shhhhhh!!" and immediately dove to smother the projection under his jacket, which of course did nothing, the glowing red image shining through the fabric.

"98.7% of subjects perish from poor posture, dehydration, or contact with mortally challenged entities? You, however, remain among the insignificant few who endure."

"Shut up shut up shut up-"

Qrow didn't stir yet... thankfully.

The hologram cheerfully ignored him.

"As the system liasion, I am tasked with providing constant moral support, tactical feedback, and unwanted motivational injections... please remain calm while I asses your vitals!"

"No thank you," Quin whispered like it would make a difference.

"Vitals indicate: unfortunately alive... on the bright side, your Tactical Consultation Device™ maintains minimal companionship function."

It gave Mordred a thumbs-up.

She glared back, actually causing the Spokesperson to flinch.

"You're gonna wake him up," Quin hissed, glancing toward Qrow again.

The Spokesperson smiled wider.

"Your sleeping associate is experiencing phase-three REM rebound! That means it's the PERFECT time for a motivational speech!"

"Oh my gods..."

"Remember, to live for the system is your duty. To suffer for the system is a privilege."

Quin smacked his forehead and let out a groan. "I hate you."

"Correction, You're just dehydrated."

2284 Words

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Another chapter! If there's any inconsistencies or plot holes, let me know. I know the Tori Charm should've warned him but it only works when it's equipped/out of system storage.