ADAPTATION- Jaune Of The Imperium (RWBY x WH40K)

PROLOGUE

Right, so first things first. This is not an original story. Only an adaptation of work by kain0710 here on Wattpad. i saw the punches it was giving and thought that it was pretty cool, but i wanted to put my own twist to it.

i gotta be honest tho, This is my first fan-fiction. so expect a lot of words - not - feel - good. grammar wise. I got's a lot to learn but thats why the comment section exist's right?

One more thing, I'm only vaguely familiar with Rwby but know the basics of the lore in WH40k, so anyone who can give me more info or correction's in regards to lore about both will be greatly appriciated. Slide into my dm's yo

lastly, the property's of Warhammer 40k and Rwby belong to their respective creators and all that jazz

RIGHT, ON THE STORY!

FOR THE EMPEROR

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Thought of the day:

"Those who stand tall in history, stand on the shoulders of a thousand nameless faces." – Scholar Progenium idiom

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PROLOGUE

In that night of nights...

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Night falls on Paeocitu, Capital of the Fiefdom of Orvags. Stars illuminate the black sky as figures are seen moving behind the parapets of the walled city. Lines of trenchwork sprawling under the watchful eyes of the battlements. Men are heard setting up barbed wire and digging up the soil as the citizens behind the walls turn in for the evening. All of them have been in this situation before. Some have fond memories. Most carry burdens that are indescribable with words. Many will not see next week.

In a ceremite stone watchtower, 3 dark figures continue their vigilance over the sprawling feudal city. 2 of them look anxious. One carrying only a humble wooden bow and a quiver of arrows while the other one holding an elongated spear with a shield strapped to his arm.

"Sire, Do you think that the traitors will come?" said one feudal sharpening the tip of one of his arrows. The other feudal only follows his comrade's gaze to the foreigner's helmet. 10 seconds pass before they are greeted with only a chuckle.

"First off, Don't call me sir"

He points to the chevrons on his right shoulder.

"I'm no noble" The masked trooper picks up his lasgun from his lap and checks the magazine.

"Second, the traitor will always come" the emphasis on always drips with venom and hate

"They'll be countin' on being lenient"

The Sergeant stands up and faces the outward side of the wall. Looking upon a vast and empty grassland. Trees make good concealment, he thinks

"The moment you relax, that's when they'll strike" his words almost in a whisper.

Torchlight illuminating his regiment's emblem. A chain, 3 links angled diagonally with a sword broken on the other side. The mark of the 224th Kerkrader Regiment. A regiment that has spilled blood in the name of the Emperor. Whose sons and daughters already bled against the numerous terrors of the galaxy. Their tenacity reaching the ears of even this remote and humble agri-world

"Keep your eyes open and stay quiet" he opens the metal face flap, revealing a young man with a massive scar across his face. He takes out a pack of lho-sticks and fishes one out.

Cherry red ash falls on the stone floor as he takes a deep breath and faces the two feudal guards.

"Stop thinking about it and you'll live longer" smoke billowing out of his nostrils. His face in neutral scorn looking back into the tranquil countryside.