It's Tough to Be a God Caller (RWBY/Pathfinder Quest)

Dear Telka
I have no right to ask this of you, but I need your help.
My mother has found me.
If you are willing, follow the Wayfinder. It won't lead you wrong.
Please.
More than my life hangs in the balance.
Your foolish brother
Jerek Cailean

You read the letter again, frowning as you tap the Wayfinder. How did Jerek get his hands on one? The magical compasses are rare and hard to come by, unless you were a member of the Pathfinder Society.

And Jerek definitely wasn't a member of the Society. You'd asked Natty about it the last time he sent you a letter, four years ago. Jerek hadn't applied for membership at any lodge, nor was he a registered associate of any Pathfinders. He shouldn't be able to get the standard Wayfinder attached to your belt, never mind a pair of custom designed ones. You don't recognise the aeon stone in it either - a blood beryl pyramid.

At first it seemed to work how he said it would - with a twist of an internal ring the compass would switch between pointing north and pointing somewhere in Varisia - first time you've gotten to triangulate something solo and of course it's at such a long distance that you can't trust the maps - and the journey was quiet enough. You joined a group heading to Magnimar and surprisingly pretty scenery.

Eltira disagreed, but considering there was no lava boils or blood rain even a 'semiarid grassland' was an enjoyable sight. You split off from the group once the Wayfinder started pointing north and found it led you to a massive stone circle in the Storval Plateau. From what you've read it was fairly typical for the area - giants lived atop the local mountains and this would give them quite the view of lowland Varisia and the distant sea for whatever sacred rites they conduct here.

Then you foolishly stepped into the circle, the Wayfinder glowed crimson and you got teleported. Leaving you here, in a surprisingly wide alley in an unknown city, and Eltira on the other side of the world. Not that that was a major problem for you. It would only take a few seconds to resummon Eltira when you needed her.

You had Eltira check out the stone circle first of course. You sketched the teleportation circle on the back of Jerek's letter and poked at the Wayfinder he sent you while she looked for anything else, confirming that it didn't even point north anymore. Maybe you should have attended that seminar on Field Repairs of Basic Equipment, because you can't tell if it's broken broken, or if it was only meant to point you to the teleportation circle.

That at least gave you the time to look around the alley and question your brother's decisions - or whoever he was with. Why would anyone set up a teleportation circle in the middle of nowhere with a hair trigger? Why wouldn't you set up another circle at your destination, ensuring the spell is actually accurate? And if this was where the spell was meant to teleport you, where were you expected to go?

Maybe you're overcomplicating things. You approach the door closest to where you wound up and knock. Then you knock again, much louder this time.

"What do you..." The balding man that answers the door trails off in shock once he sees you.

"Hi, I'm looking for my brother. He's got black hair with a white streak, one red eye and one blue eye, a burn scar on his foot."

The abrupt slamming of the door cuts off your subsequent swear and rude gesture as Eltira reports that there's nothing else to be found.

"He was just a random arsehole." You grumble as you call Eltira to your side.

"I'm sure we'll find someone who can help in the city." Eltira says once she appears.

--

"Erastil was right, cities suck and so does everyone that lives in one!" You declare two hours later.

"The humans did seem exceptionally sheltered." Eltira says.

"The first woman screamed and ran away. The second just stared and walked aorund me, the third swore at me, the fourth thought they were drunk, the fifth guy hit me and the next guy tried to arrest me. And it didn't improve from there." You complain. "Not one of those spiteful schirs managed to say where we are or if they'd seen Jerek around."

"It was as if they'd seen a tiefling before." Eltira continues, sounding more than a little amused at your frustration.

"They also didn't expect a cat to talk." You point out.

"Their reactions were less rude, but no more useful." Eltira admits. "But I can say that we're on the coast and that I only saw a one non-human. A young girl with hooves."

"A nephilim or maybe a beastkin. And I didn't see any." You say and consider your mental map of the world. "And that doesn't make any sense. Cheliax is human supremacy central, but they've still got gnomes and halflings and everything. I don't think there's any city on Avistan that's only humans."

"I've never heard of one." Eltira says.

"Alright. Basic stuff then. I put my cloak on and keep my wings down, keep the hood up to hide the horns and stick my spear in my bag. The end will stick out but that's fine. Then I go a few blocks and hope we see Jerek on the streets or we run into someone with a modicum of politeness and decency." You decide.

"Maybe take off the breastplate. Try and look like a normal traveler." Eltira suggests.

"The only thing I hate more than that is that you're right. People don't normally tromp around dressed for battle in Varisia or Taldor right?"

"It's been many years since I visited Varisia. I know some of them did. But it was rare. And those that did wore clear signs of allegiance."

You look down at the black knot sigil you'd painted onto your breastplate, purple eye gleaming at the centre.

"It's really your fault for not being more famous then, isn't it?" You point out.

Of course it's only once Eltira fades into the shadows and you've changed that you turn and walk right into someone who could help.

Who do you run into?
[ ] A blonde girl looking for a missing friend
[ ] A cat-eared girl looking for trouble

It took you longer to get everything packed neatly in your satchel than it did to change, extradimensional storage space stretching to fit or not, a problem you're more than used to being unable to solve. Everything you own is either useful or precious, you won't toss anything away or leave it for someone else to guard, and so long as you aren't careless with a sharp blade the satchel is perfectly safe even if it's overflowing.

You have a plan, you're prepared and you're ready to go. So of course now is when something that renders it all pointless happens.

You turn as you stand, intending to set off with the sort of drama and grace that going around a unknown city in a low hood demands. Instead you drive your head into the surprisingly soft chest of someone that definitely wasn't standing there six seconds ago.

You bite back a curse as your fangs scrape against themselves and mumble an apology as you step back, examining the unfortunate whose way you got in - a girl about your age with a short blade on her back and a softness to her features that doesn't match the turmoil deep in her eyes. She's taller than you, clad in a white and black outfit that vaguely reminds you of what the nobles of Kenabres had their house-servants wear but cut to show off her shoulders and belly.

And she's bent over, rubbing her throat. Hooray for your horn.

Following behind her is a taller boy that's a lot more relaxed, with tanned skin and a wide open shirt to show off a decently impressive set of muscles, sadly without any interesting scars. There were no scars on the girl either. Either they're not fighters or they're obscenely lucky. You force the pangs of desire and envy down as you look at their outfits - sure it's well into Hazen and this place is probably warmer than Kenabres and Sarkoris ever are, but you still can't pull off the 'topless kellid barbarian' look. Not without having your wings brush against your bare skin with every twitch and turn of your shoulders.

Oh and he has a yellow furred tail while other wise looking perfectly normal. And the girl is hiding something twitchy in a bow on her head. What would she even have there? Head-wings like a plumekith? Antenna or little tentacles or something? It can't be horns if they're moving...

The really weird thing is that they don't look or feel like nephilim. Just two normal humans with one extra body part. Sure it happens sometimes, but you should still get a celestial or fiendish vibe. What was the word Natty had for this - kodlak? Kodlok? One was werebeasts, the other was centaurs and harpies...

And the guy can clearly see beneath your hood too. Stupid brittle horn - why did you even bother?

--

"Where are we going anyway?"

"Somewhere else."

As she weaved through the streets of Vale with a familiar ease her mostly unwanted companion was missing, Blake Belladonna was more focused on the churning of her stomach than any questions he managed to ask. She hadn't intended to snap at Weiss yesterday, hadn't intended to alienate her friends or out herself to the worst possible person at Beacon and hadn't even intended to leave.

Part of her wanted to blame the admittedly handsome boy following her, but Sun didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve anything Weiss had said about him, that was the point. The precious sheltered girl who had to assume the worst about every faunus that crossed her path and hid behind the attacks on the SDC as an excuse for her actions the moment anyone challenged her. The worst part was that Weiss had a point.

Despite everything the Schnee Dust Company had done to Vacuo, to their workers, to anyone who happened to live on a prospective mine that it wanted to buy for cheap and to their competitors, the White Fang had crossed a line with their retaliations. It shouldn't bother her this much - she'd already walked away from the White Fang, already admitted that she couldn't follow Adam down the dark path of revenge anymore.

But she had been one of them. Taken part in raids that ended with people dying. She'd listened to them cheer about the strike-breaking head of security dying along with his kids in a car accident. She'd crossed the same line.

But that didn't mean the White Fang were behind the robberies in Vale. The SDC didn't have a monopoly in Vale and the White Fang didn't need that much Dust. This wasn't their fault, she just had to prove it.

If only she'd been watching where she was going, she might have been able to think of something.

--

The cafe Blake led you and Sun to really doesn't feel like the right place for this sort of conversation, especially not when you got seated on a balcony. Sure the waitress has some impressively curled horns and only stared at you instead of giving you a dirty look, but tea doesn't help people open up. A nice ale or cider would be perfect for this.

At least Eltira can get comfy beneath the balcony and keep an eye out for Jerek.

At leats you've got the hood off.

"So what's with the horns?" Sun asks once the silence becomes too much for him to bear.

"It's just how they grow. Righty sheds a a section every now and then like an antler, Lefty just chips and flakes all the time. I wish they looked better but I can't exactly prune them to shape." You say with a shrug. At least he's opened the door forquesitons about appearance. "What's with the tail?"

"I was lucky enough to be born with a fifth limb, I figured I might as well be able to throw a punch with it." He says.

You give him an annoyed frown that he just smiles at, probably because Blake's is much more severe and has even less effect.

"Are you familiar with the White Fang?" Blake asks, the first thing she's said since your tea arrived.

"Of course! I don't think there's a Faunus on the planet who hasn't heard of them. Stupid, holier-than-thou creeps that use force to get whatever they want. Bunch of freaks, if you ask me!"

"Never heard of them."

You and Sun answer at the same time, drawing a confused look from him and Blake once they hear your words.

"You're not a member?" Blake asks.

"I try and avoid gangs and cults. Bad experience growing up" You say. Maybe not the truth, since you were only tricked into being a distraction for the Thieflings twice before Ma put a stop to it, but no sane man in Kenabres wants to join a cult.

"They're not a cult." Blake says defensively, taking another sip of her tea. "I used to be part of the White Fang."

Sun chokes on his drink as you nod.

"And they just let you leave?" You ask.

"I didn't give them a chance to object."

"Wait a minute, you were a member of the White Fang?" Sun asks.

"That's right. I was a member for most of my life, actually. You could almost say I was born into it." Blake says, before launching into a stirring tale of hope, discrimination, betrayal and heartbreak.

Racism against faunus prompted a turn to banditry and worse. That's a disturbingly familiar story, both for the unfortunates who decided siding with the demons was better than the hate and what you know happens to displaced refugees like the Sarkorians and Mihrini. Faunus must be what Blake and Sun are, humans with minor animal features. Ah, that's the word - kodlachko! Iobarian for the children of beastkin or werebeasts that kept the eyes or ears or whatever but couldn't transform anymore.

"Then, five years ago, our leader stepped down, and a new one took his place. A new leader, with a new way of thinking."

"Wait, Belladonna? As in Ghira Belladonna?" Sun interrupts.

"Yes. He's my father. He used to be head of the White Fang." Blake confirms. "I'm surprised you know that."

"He's also the Chieftan of Menagerie. I was thinking about visiting over the holidays." Sun claims.

"And from there everything spiraled." You say, bringing them back on track. Hopefully the White Fang didn't get as bad as you're thinking.

"When Sienna took over she was focused on direct action. Protesting had never done enough, instead we had to force people to listen. And whenever something didn't work we escalated. Peaceful protests were followed with organized attacks. We were setting fire to shops that refused to serve us, hijacking cargo from companies that used Faunus labor. And the worst part was, it was working. We were being treated like equals. But not out of respect... out of fear.
"So, I left. I decided I no longer wanted to use my skills to aid in their violence, and instead, I would dedicate my life to becoming a Huntress. So here I am: a criminal hiding in plain view, all with the help of a little black bow."

"That deserves a toast with some sort of brandy or whiskey or something strong, but this will have to do." You say, raising your cup to Blake. "Having the courage to turn away from a dark path is distressingly rare, and you did it alone."

Blake looks away from you in shame.

"I should have left earlier." She says.

"I should have convinced my siblings to follow Jerek and get out of Kenabres instead of joining the Crusade, but we were dumb kids. The important thing is that you did make the right decision in the end." You say with a flippancy you don't feel. If you'd been a coward like Jerek you might have more than one brother left.

"So... have you told your friends any of this?" Sun interrupts. Blake just sinks further into her chair.

"You took the first step on the road to redemption. Several steps from the sound of it. But your former comrades are still causing trouble and you don't feel worthy of fighting beside your new comrades. That's foolish but understandable. And it has an easy solution." You say.

"We track down the White Fang and make them stop," Sun finishes.

"And if they're not behind the robberies?" Blake asks.

"If you're not certain than we start with investigation. Talk to other thieves, talk to someone who's still in the White Fang. Get some answers before we start cracking skulls." You explain.

"Or we could do a stakeout. There's a huge shipment of Dust coming in tonight. If we're there when they unload it, we'll be there when people try to steal it." SUn suggests.

"How do you know about this?" You ask.

"I stowed away on a ship to get to Vale and heard the dockworkers talking about it. There's a big Schnee Company freighter coming in, they're going to be working overtime."

"Then we'll do that. Prove that the White Fang aren't involved with the robberies and catch the real criminals." Blake says, trying to sound convincing. You share a glance with Sun and stay quiet.

--

The stakeout is a dull as you'd expect, but it gives you time to piece together some proper answers for where you are and give some of those answers to your new friends. Bt what do you tell them about Eltira? She's not going to stay out of sight the entire time, but you know that she's willing to play along with a lie for a time.
[ ] Tell the truth. Eltira is a god, bound to your soul. If you're going to fight alongside them they deserve no less.
[ ] Tell them Eltira is your eidolon, a spirit bound to you. Southerners think of gods as grand, distant beings and get weird about one being right in front of them. You can tell them the truth once you know they'll listen.
[ ] Tell them Eltira is just a familiar, a cat granted intelligence and power through your magic. You can downplay your magic until you know there's no witch-hunters in the city and bring up the god thing once you know where they stand.

--

I feel like I know the outcome of the vote already, but it's important you guys make this decision. Notably the main reason you're being reticent (no matter which vote you choose) is a mix of not being sure what's happened, knowing there's something more important to handle and the suspicion that the truth will thoroughly derail Blake's train of thought.