HELLOOOOOOO EVERYONE! Some of you may be looking at this and wondering, "what the hell is a Stormcast, or an Errant Questor?" For those of you unfamiliar with Age of Sigmar I will give as brief description of AOS as I can while still giving you enough info so you'll have a working grasp of the universe of AOS and some of the terms I'll be using throughout this story. At the end of each chapter I will leave a glossary of Age of Sigmar terms I used for you RWBY fans who are interested in having a deeper understanding of the AOSverse. Don't worry however, most if not all of this story is going to take place in the RWBYverse, so I won't be flinging y'all into the deep end here.

In the world of AOS reality is split into eight realms, each of which represent a certain kind of magic. Each realm was ruled by a god of the Pantheon of Order. Head of this pantheon and god of the realm of Heaven, Azyr, was Sigmar (think a combination of Odin and Zeus, just less of a jerk. That's Sigmar.)

Things were going pretty well in the eight realms, until the four gods (read: asshats) of Chaos attacked and their worshipers overran seven of the eight realms despite the best efforts on the part of Sigmar and the other gods. Eventually the other gods were lost, the pantheon was broken, and seven of the eight realms were totally subjugated by Chaos. The only realm to escape the conquest was Azyr. With no other options left to him Sigmar closed off his realm from the others, dooming the inhabitants of the other realms to their fate.

Stricken with grief but determined, Sigmar labored for centuries to find a way to free the realms from the rule of Chaos. Eventually he found it.

Sigmar created the Stormcast Eternals: men and women who had fought against Chaos in their former lives and who had been chosen to be reforged and filled with the might of Sigmar himself. Reforged and clad in armor of a magical metal called Sigmarite, the Stormcast Eternals marched to war to liberate the realms from the yoke of the Chaos gods.

These men and women cannot truly die, barring extremely rare circumstances. When they fall in battle they are returned to Azyr and their souls are reforged again, but every time they are reforged something about that Stormcast changes. Most of the time they lose memories or some of their personality, becoming both less and more human with each reforging. Some are blessed with increased might and power or other gifts, but these are few and far between, and most are simply changed. No one knows how to truly correct the process, but it can be assumed that there must be some way to cure the side effects of being Reforged. Nevertheless the Stormcasts continue to fight on against Chaos to protect the realms and the people within them.

And with all that out of the way... ON WITH THE STORY!


Most people would have found shelter when the rain came.

Most people would have sought protection from the bolts of lighting that flashed down from the storm choked heavens.

Jaune Oathblade was not most people.

In Chamon, the realm of metal, Jaune Oathblade knelt upon a bare hillside with his face upturned as fat droplets of pure water poured down and bolts of lighting flashed down from the sky. He was bare of any garments or armor from the waist up. His blonde hair, which was braided and ran down past his shoulders, and his thick beard were both soaked with rain water. His lips moved as he whispered old litanies, prayers, and songs devoted to Sigmar, God-King of Azyr and rightful lord of all eight of the realms that had not been sung in the other seven realms ever since the gates to Azyr had closed. He cupped his hands over his head as the rain poured until they were full, then brought his water filled hands to his lips and drank deeply, sighing contently as the water refreshed him

Most people would have sought shelter from rain and lightning.

Most people were not Stormcast Eternals.

The deluge ended, and the clouds began to part and the sun broke through. The water upon his large and chiseled body evaporated away within seconds, but it was not due to the sun. The lightning that coursed within his veins heated his skin to a point that anyone near him would have been able to feel it emanating from him.

Eyes the color of sapphire and flashing with lightning within opened as Jaune stood and stretched, the powerful muscles of his back rippling under his skin. He stood to his full nine foot height and began replacing his armor upon himself.

His plates of Sigmarite were gold and silver and his warcloak that hung down from his shoulders was a regal blue. The metal gleamed even in the low light of those rays of sun that peered through the clouds, and his warcloak shimmered as though it held stars within it.

Jaune Oathblade was a warrior of the Hallowed Knights Stormhost. Each member of this defiant Storm Host had been faithful worshipers of Sigmar, and after their reforging their faith in Him had only grown. They were Sigmar's holy warrior's, whose duty it was to defend the faithful in the realms and drive back the foul servants of the Dark Gods. Such was their faith that their battle cry was "only the faithful!" For many of the followers of Chaos this battle cry had been the last thing they'd heard before their demise.

Jaune was an Errant Questor, a Stormcast Eternal who was on a lone quest, whose purpose only the Errant Questor and Sigmar himself knew. In Jaune's case his quest was a simple one: vengeance, liberation, and atonement. The Ruinous Powers had twice taken all that he had cared for and continued to subjugate the innocent of the lands. With rune etched greatblade and the fury of lightning in his veins the Errant Questor would bring ruin to the foes of Sigmar, to the chain bearers and the soul breakers. All those he had liberated had seen his righteous fury against their oppressors and known that Sigmar had not abandoned them, that the Lord of Heaven and Storms had not forgotten the denizens of the other realms.

As Oathblade replaced his helmet upon his head and closed his visor he turned and marched down the hill to a village of one such denizens.


Elder Namaria took his armored hand in both of her gnarled ones. Her hands were child sized compared to his. "Thank you golden man," she said sincerely, "you good man. Good man."

Jaune smiled, his helmet hanging from his waist, and gently placed his other hand over hers. "You honor me lady," he responded, "but you must hurry away. The foe grows nearer, and you all must be as far away as possible when they arrive."

As the elder was helped away by her daughter Jaune felt a tug on his cape. He turned and looked down to see young Oscar staring up at him. The boy was only fourteen, but he had a brave heart worthy of a Stormcast. "You can't mean to stay and fight them all on your own," Oscar pleaded with him. "You'll die!"

The Knight Questor smiled kindly and placed his hand on Oscar's shoulder. "Such is my place in life young one. Sigmar granted me this power. His only demand was that I use it to defend the the defenseless against the forces of Chaos. Always remember Oscar, much is demanded..."

"Of those to who much is given," the boy finished with his head bowed. "But you could still come with us," he said weakly as he looked up, his hazel eyes meeting Jaune's sapphire ones. "You could protect us on the journey to the realm gate."

The Stormcast shook his head. "Even now the foe comes to slaughter and enslave you and your loved ones. I must remain behind to buy you time until the Vanguard Hunters find you. Fear not for me, for when I fall I will be returned to the Sigmarbulum and reforged to continue my fight. I will fall here, but this will not be the end of my tale." He smiled again. "You will see me again Oscar, I swear it." Gently but firmly Oathblade guided Oscar to the train of people leaving the village with everything they could carry on their backs or on horse drawn carriages. "Go, Oscar. They will need your courage in the days to come. Leave the sacrifices to those who will survive them."

As the last person left the village wailing horns echoed from the north. The Knight Questor pulled on his helmet and slammed down the face plate. His body sealed in blessed Sigmarite, Oathblade drew his greatblade and slammed it blade first into the soft copper of the massive metal plate the village was situated on. He rested his hands upon the pommel of his blade, and waited for the foe.


They came in a horde hundreds strong.

Clad in armor of brass and steel, coated in gore and gnashing their teeth in fury, the servants of Khorne, the god of murder and slaughter, swarmed like locusts towards the little village. At their head was a man as tall as Jaune and clad in blood red armor. In one hand he clutched a massive axe that eternally dripped blood. In the other he held a flayed skull dripping with blood and with bits of ragged flesh still hanging from it. He stopped several meters from Jaune. His warriors tried to charge past him, but he cut one open from skull to groin and forced the others to remain behind him. His gaggle of murderers sufficiently cowed the warrior of Khorne turned back to the Errant Questor.

"Golden man!" He roared, "I am Hagavard Kaul, warlord of this land by the blessing of the blood god! The lives of all the people here are mine to do what I wish with! You tried to take my slaves away! I will slaughter you and offer your head up to my god for your transgression! Then I will hunt those cowards down and drown the land in their blood!" His fists clenched, and the skull shattered into pieces.

"Then face me," Jaune said. "Fight me in single combat, and we'll see just how valid your god's claim is." He drew his sword from the copper and slammed the pommel against his breastplate. The sound of sigmarite on sigmarite rang through the village like the clear toll of a church bell, and thunder rumbled angrily overhead, as though the heavens overhead shared his hate for the servants of Chaos.

Hagavard gripped his axe in both hands and charged towards Jaune howling madly. Oathblade planted his feet, and waited.

When the axe came down the Stormcast's Sigmarite sword came up and met it. The brass bound axe blade rebounded off of the the blade. Jaune was not even budged. Hagavard stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock. Never before had he met a foe who could take a blow from his axe directly and survive. "Is that the best you have?" Jaune scoffed. "Is this the best a warrior of the mighty Khorne can muster? Pathetic."

Hagavard's frame trembled with rage and froth bubbled up between his lips as he flung himself at Jaune with a mad howl of unbridled fury. This time when his axe came down the Stormcast stepped to the side, and the blade sunk deep into the soft brass and was caught there. Hagavard yanked on his weapon in a desperate attempt to free it. Jaune swung his blade down and cut through the neck of the warlord and the haft of his axe in one fell blow. As the body collapsed to the ground still clutching the broken shaft of its weapon and the head rolled across the copper plate Jaune turned to the horde of stunned Khorne worshipers.

Jaune leveled his bloodied blade at them. "Who's next for the chopping block?"

The Blood Reavers surged towards him screaming profane worship to their god.

The first two fell with a single swing of the Knight Questor's sword. The third caught Jaune's fist in his jaw and his face collapsed around it. The fourth lost an arm, the fifth his head, and the sixth was struck with such force that the top half of his corpse sailed over the Blood Reavers before hitting the ground.

Jaune was a blur of Sigmarite and death. where his sword struck Khorne Worshippers died, while his own armor held against their blows and rebuffed them. Within the first minute over a dozen Blood Reavers were dead. Within the next five fifty more joined that tally.

Still they came.

Jaune's armor was mighty, but it was not impervious. As blows rained down his armor began to dent and give. Axes bashed his armor and dented or even pierced it. Daggers found gaps and jabbed into them. The lightning fueled blood of the Knight-Questor leaked from these wounds and burned through the gore already caking his armor. With each wound he received Jaune returned with a strike that claimed a life. The pain they inflicted on him was great. The rage burning in his soul was greater still.

By luck or design an axe blade caught him in the side of his head with enough force to send his helmet sailing off. He staggered and fell to one knee, temporarily stunned, and the jackals closed in for the kill.

He looked up, locked eyes with them, and they stopped in their tracks.

Jaune Oathblade stood at his full height, his blade in hand. With the emotionless war mask of his helmet gone the Stormcast's face was bare for the Blood Reavers to see. It should have emboldened the warriors of Khorne to see that their foe was but a man and not some autonomous construct.

It didn't.

Oathblade's face was twisted in fury, his eyes glowing with aetherial power and static sparks dancing around his teeth which were bared in a furious snarl. A halo of crackling energy seemed to form over his head, and his golden hair and beard were littered with sparks swirling within them. Overhead lightning flashed and thunder roared angrily, and this time the Blood Reavers had no doubt that the very heavens were against them.

The Stormcast hefted his blade in both hands. He took a step forward.

The Blood Reavers took two steps back, now faced with a foe whose fury greatly outmatched theirs.

Jaune burst forward with blade held high and roared his devotion with such force and fury that it drowned out the thunder.

"ONLY THE FAITHFUL!"

He slammed into them with such force that the first few were sent flying. He hewed, hacked, and stabbed all around him, slaughtering the followers of Khorne with wild abandon. As he killed Jaune chanted the name of his holy Liege over and over. "SIGMAR! SIGMAR! SIGMAR!"

And the Blood Reavers began to lose heart. They began to back away, at first in ones and twos, then in larger groups, until those that survived were fleeing for their lives, howling for their uncaring blood god to save them from the golden warrior.

"You will not escape my vengeance," the Stormcast swore as he raised his blade in both hands, the edge aimed down at the copper plate below. Lighting crackled along the length of his weapon, and he drove it into the soft, conductive metal.

Lighting raced through the metal towards the fleeing murderers. They howled as their bodies trembled uncontrollably and smoked poured out of their screaming maws. They collapsed in heaps of scorched bodies, smoke pouring out of open mouths and eye sockets. Not one had escaped the Oathblade's vengeance, just as he had sworn.

With a sigh Jaune sagged to his knees, his hands still clasped around the hilt of his blade. Blood poured out of dozens of wounds, and the Stormcast knew it would not be long before he was returned to the soul forges to be reforged to continue the war against the forces of Chaos. It was not the first time he had been reforged. He could feel himself changing with each Reforging, becoming more in tune with the lightning surging within his veins, more viscous and reckless in battle. When he was at his most furious lightning cracked forth from his body to strike down those foes near him that his blade had not yet reached. It was this trait that had given Jaune his second moniker: The Storm Soul.

"Sigmar!" he cried out, "know that I am your loyal servant to the end! Know that I will forever fight to bring salvation to the realms and your oppressed children!" His eyes snapped open, twin sapphires glowing with power. He held his hands over his head up to the storm wracked heavens above. "Sigmar! Reclaim me! I am ready to face the consequences of death! I would give away all of my soul and replace it with your power if it meant saving the realms! You demand much of those to who you give much, and I will pay this dear price gladly to liberate the oppressed and atone for my mistakes!"

The skies above rumbled and glowed with lighting. Jaune grasped his sword in one hand and wrenched it out of the metal, holding it above his head. "Sigmar! I will take your war to all of the realms and beyond! I would march into the heart of the realm of the dark gods themselves if you demanded it! No matter where I go, no matter what I face, I am your loyal warrior!"

With a tremendous crack of thunder a bolt of lightning streaked down and struck the Stormcast.

"Let the war against Chaos continue," Oathblade thought as he was carried to the Sigmarbulum.


With a gasp Jaune sat up and winced as his head throbbed painfully. "Sigmar's hammer," he groaned as he gripped his head. His vision swam and he blinked until it was clear enough for him to make out his surroundings. "This... isn't the Sigmarbulum."

He was in a dense forest. Lush green trees surrounded him on all sides. The sounds of forest animals echoed through the air. Beams of sunlight lanced down through the canopy and illuminated his surroundings. "Am... I in Ghyran?"

The forest was certainly vibrant enough to belong to the realm of life, but Jaune had been to that realm before on quests. The whole of the land was choked by Nurgle's rot, the plague god's pestilences drowning the purity of Allarielle's realm in a tide of filth. However he had heard rumors from other Stormcast of hidden groves that were free of Nurgle's taint. Perhaps this was one of them?

Jaune gasped and clutched his head as another wave of pain hit him. His body felt... weak, unusually so. He tried to stand but stumbled and fell back to his knees. "What's happened to me?" Through bleary eyes Jaune saw a clear puddle on the ground. He tried to stand, failed again, and crawled over to the puddle. When he peered within it breath left his body. "By Ghal Maraz, no..."

He was... changed. Gone was the glow of power in his eyes, gone was his physical might and stature. Gone were his plates of Sigmarite. Even his hair was different.

He was a boy on the cusp of manhood. His body was scrawny and lacking in muscle. His face was clean shaven and his hair was short. His armor was gone and instead he was garbed in a strange garments of material he didn't recognize. Across his back was a greatblade and to his side was strapped a storm gladius, both of which provided some small comfort, but...

"Sigmar's oath, what's happened to me?!"

Behind him, Jaune heard a rustle in the bushes. He turned, his hand reaching for the hilt of his greatblade. Before him he saw a woman. She was armed, but the weapons were not raised in a threatening manner, and judging by the look on her face she was just as shocked to see him here as Jaune was at being here.

He did not know what had happened to him, or even where he was, so Jaune decided to take a chance. "Who... who are you? Where am I?"


And that's a wrap on chapter one! Don't worry folks, chapter two is already well underway. Anyone who can figure out where Jaune is or what's going to happen in chapter two gets a cookie! An imaginary cookie, that is... I ate the real ones...

And for anyone who is a fan of my other story, "Jaune Arc, Gryphon Knight" and thinking to yourself, "wait a minute! Nerdlydelicious hasn't updated JAGK in months, but he's uploaded a new story. Does this mean Gryphon Knight is dead?!"

No it does not friends. If anything it means that Gryphon Knight has a better chance of being updated sometime soon because I am kicking my creative juices back into gear. I have also recently gotten a stable full time job that has set hours, which means no more working super early or super late, so I can devote some more time to my stories. I really love Gryphon Knight, and I want to get it rolling again. By the time of this writing the next chapter is half done...ish. It's hard to tell. I want to get a lot into this chapter since it's effectively the opening of the next arc of the story and I need to get some plot threads rolling. Don't worry my peeps, it will come. Good things come to those who wait :)

In my experience however good things also happen to those who go out and make them happen, soooo maybe not the best advice? Anyway, let's get on to the glossary of terms.

GLOSSARY OF AGE OF SIGMAR TERMS:

Chamon: Chamon is one of the eight magical realms that make up the universe of Age of Sigmar. The realm consists mostly if not entirely of metal, to the point that even much of the wildlife has at least some metallic features.

Sigmar: god of Azyr and leader of the now destroyed pantheon of order. Sigmar's ultimate goal is to free the realms from Chaos at any cost, for he has seen what destruction the forces of the dark gods can wreak upon the land...

Azyr: The realm of heaven, which Sigmar himself rules. It is the only one of the eight realms that escaped the depredations of the Chaos gods, and the mightiest bastion of Order in the eight realms.

Stormcast Eternals: as mentioned before, the Stormcast are men and women who were chosen by Sigmar to be reforged into the ultimate warriors of Order. Their duty is to push the front forward and drive Chaos back. However they are still human, and they have their own dreams and wishes, and doubts too.

Errant Questor: Errant Questors are Stormcast who have been chosen for a task that is unknown to any save themselves and Sigmar, and perhaps not even themselves. Some may desire vengeance against an enemy, while others may have a vision of themselves slaying a great monster. Regardless, Errant Questors are understood to have received Sigmar's blessing in pursuing whatever quest they have been given, and are released from their other duties until their task is complete.

Sigmarbulum: The capitol of Sigmar's realm, the Sigmarbulum is where the Stormcast are reforged and re-armed for war.

If you like this story so far then feel free to follow and favorite it! If you have a friend who likes RWBY, RWBY fanfics, Age of Sigmar, or you simply think they would enjoy this, then feel free to recommend this story to them! If you have any questions, comments, or suggestions then feel free to leave a comment or PM me! If you have any questions about the universe of Age of Sigmar or want me to clarify something I mentioned then feel free to PM me! I love Age of Sigmar and RWBY, and I love talking about them both, so I will answer any questions you have! I love you all. BYYYYYYEEEE!

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