From huntsman in training to a nobody, to a bountyhuntery. Follow along the tale of a man on the hunt for justice. Where will the story lead us? Who knows...
It was late afternoon after the battle, the sun nearly setting. Jaune was slowly making his way through the old lumber camp, checking for anything useful.
The workshop or what's left of it had not a lot to offer. A few tool belts, some in better condition than the others. A bunch of tools like hammers, saws, and axes. A few workbenches equipped with vices were scattered inside the small hut.
Making his way over to the barracks he found out that the door was locked. Since he was exhausted from the fight he decided to try and break in using his falchion instead of brute forcing it. Jamming the blade where the bolt of the lock was he started to sporadically move the blade around and he hoped that it would have some kind of effect on it... And it did affect it.
The handle as well as the lock fell straight out of the old wooden door. Seems like the door was on its last breath, and he didn't complain about that.
Falchion in hand he made his way inside. Expecting to see a bunch of bunk beds and locker, and maybe a table and a few chairs, he was surprised by the sight before him. It was everything he expected, but on top of that, there were a ton of weapons and clothing. Everything is high grade. Weapons lined the floor, stacked on the beds beside piles of padded and armored clothing. Opening up some locker, stacks upon stacks of ammo and dust of all sorts were piled up.
"Dear gods..." Spoke Jaune.
This must have been enough gear for a small army. Just how many huntsmen and bounty hunters did they kill?
"Too many... They killed too many. Those sick bastards." Swore Jaune.
Clearing one of the beds off from all the weapons he slumped on it and almost instantly blacked out.
Morning...
Waking up, with the equivalent of a hungover that would kill Qrow Branwen, he got up. Virtually everything hurt for him. Cracking some bones he got up and took a look around.
Now being as well rested as it is possible for him right now, he had to get things straight.
As he made up a plan.
His gear was a joke at this point. Searching through the piles of clothing he set his sight on a pair of black combat boots, replacing his about-to-fall-apart sneakers and a pair of knuckle padded fingerkess gloves. He found himself a particular coat he liked. (Hunter's Long coat from Fallout 76. Image from wiki) Just the coat, imagine it way less worn and a midnight blue in color, the buttons silver.
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He put on the boots and coat, being surprised by how well both fit. Now with his attire in working order, he started going true the piles of weaponry.
Pistols, rifles, snipers, smgs, lmgs, swords, spears, axes, and everything else you could want.
His eyes fell on another .44 revolver. With his primary weapon who was fine-tuned to be able to be shot extremely fast gone, had needed whatever advantage he could get.
