So it is done

Duty

Raven Branwen has always had many enemies. Bandits don't exactly endear oneself to the general public.

At first, when she was still just a child, her enemies were only Grimm and perhaps the other small childrens in the Branwen camp. Back in those days, the Branwen tribe itself was one of the largest bandit tribes in Remnant, boasting membership in the several hundreds, naturally, Raven was not the only child in the camp even when discounting her brother, Qrow.

Still, her position as the daughter of the leader, placed her a notch above the rest. But for the children, not yet aware of the limits of what was acceptable, loved to test the young girl's mettle. Not that her father would do anything about it, in fact, he might've even encouraged it.

Her father, Corvus, had always respected only strength.

If his future heirs couldn't survive a simple fight, he didn't care if it was against Grimm or their peers, they didn't deserve to be his heirs anyway. Or even alive for that matter.

Something which simply proves who was the real heir of the Branwen tribe.

Qrow... That little whining ass could never stand up for himself even back then, always hiding behind his twin sister's skirt. And so Raven had to fight for both of them.

Whether it were the children, the Grimm, the civilians who didn't have the good sense to surrender, the soldiers, the mercenaries, and even other bandits. Raven had fought all of them.

There are few opportunities in the wastelands to show mercy. Food, money, ammo? All had to be fought for.

Raven had never heard of anyone inventing portable factories yet, so there were never too many opportunities to replenish their supplies. And they even gave their targets a choice! Give them what they want and they won't start killing.

Of course there's always someone that wanted to play hero, but sometimes they gave it all away nicely and the Branwen tribe would simply walk away.

Not that it makes much of a difference either way.

Miraculous escapes from the Grimm were just that, miraculous. No one would exactly be feeling cheery after one the Branwen clans visits.

Either they fight or surrender, the Grimm would soon tear through whatever is left.

The Grimm were a problem for everyone, which is why their clan was almost always on their feet. But, for a clan of Bandits, the Grimm were not the only source of danger.

Hunters weren't exactly known for their welcoming attitude towards bandits.

It only took one mistake for the entire clan to almost be wiped out. Only luck had saved them from such a fate.

Corvus, her father, made the mistake of thinking that the Branwen tribe's might were unchallenged. It was not even a big mistake in the grand scheme of things, they simply delayed moving the tribe for a day.

And that was almost the death of the entire tribe.

As much as Corvus liked to think that their tribe were the strongest, it was woefully far from the truth.

Hunters. The ones that stood against the apex of predators that are the Grimm.

One team of Hunters consisting of four was oftentimes enough to protect entire villages against a Grimm tide.

That day there were three of such teams.

Corvus was strong, the Branwen tribe were strong, but even one Hunter meant trouble. Two at once, and even Corvus himself wasn't sure of his chances. Twelve of them? It was just a massacre.