A black disc limed with a ring of violet smoke appeared in the middle of a clearing amidst a vast green forest. Out of it tumbled a man with a tiger's tail and wearing heavy plate armor, a massive metal shield on his back, and a golden-hilted sword on his hip. He tumbled across the forest floor until he crashed against a tree. Rubbing his sore ribs, he shouted at the portal. "Why in Oblivion did you do that, Sheogorath?! I was building a good life in Skyrim!"

A Scottish-accented voice echoed from the portal in reply. "Hey, this world is in the middle of a major crisis! Creativity, itself, is at stake! If the bad guys win, everything will be dull! Dull! Dull! Dull! What I need you to do is – oh, wait. Looks like they won, already. Oops. Seems I brought you here about eighty years too late. Oh well. I'm sure you can find something to do. Ta-ta."

"Wait!" The portal winked shut. "Gods damn you, Lucian!" He groaned and pulled himself up to a kneeling position. "Akatosh, I need guidance. Please give me a sign of what I must do."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a line of shafts of sunlight brighten unnaturally.

"Thank you."

He stood up, took a step…and promptly stumbled into a tree, as though his feet were not large enough to support him.

"What–?" He looked down at his legs and gasped, his eyes widening at what he saw.

He was used to seeing legs like those of a great cat. What he saw now were the legs of a man. He removed one of his gauntlets to find his arm devoid of fur, but he still possessed his claws. To confirm his suspicions, he took off his helmet and felt his face and crown. His face was that of a Man or Mer, but his tiger-like ears remained intact. The final confirmation of his form was that the familiar weight of his tail still hung from above his butt.

"Why in Oblivion did Sheogorath change my body into that of an Ohmes-Raht?" he mused under his breath.

Knowing that he wouldn't get an answer by just standing around, he took a moment to adjust to walking on his now-long-and-narrow feet before setting off on the path of light.

After a few minutes, some things in the surrounding bushes growled at him. The man grasped the hilt of his sword and held his shield firmly, ready to retaliate against any attack. His trained and experienced mind barely registered the werewolf-like creature lunging at him before his sword's black blade flew from its sheath and rent the beasts head from its shoulders.

As the monster's corpse collapsed at his feet, nearly half a dozen more stepped out of hiding in a loose circle around him.

He dove through the gap in their line created by the dead one, looked back, and grinned as he saw that they had clustered.

Reaching deep into his soul, he unleashed the most devastating weapon in his arsenal. "RII VAAZ ZOL!" His Thu'um tore across the clearing in a soul-destroying wave…that might as well have been a gentle breeze for all that the monsters reacted to it. Okay, either they have an utterly absurd level of resistance to magical effects, or… He channeled an Incinerate spell into his sword and flung it at his foes, incinerating (Heh) one of the creatures.

The cat man choked back his revulsion at the soulless abominations before him to focus on fighting.

Claws flew at his face. His shield batted them aside, and his sword slid into the fiend's flesh, the weapon's fiery magic burning its target to ash.

The last two monstrosities tried attacking him at a furious pace, trying to wear him down, refusing him respite. Then his shield began to glow. The monsters had enough intelligence to back up and glance at each other in confusion and worry.

This actually caused the man to cackle a little. He charged forward and swung the glowing shield into his prey.

One was able to jump out of the way, but the other took a direct hit with a burst of energy, the release of which flinging it into and through a tree. Its broken corpse came to rest fifty feet away.

Neither of the remaining combatants wasted time in wonderment over the death, with the last wolf rearing up, roaring, and raising a paw to strike down this intruder that had slaughtered the rest of its pack.

Before the man could respond, there was a sound like a thunderclap, and the beast's head exploded. When the creature's carcass fell to the ground, the tailed man saw another man, this one with unkempt gray hair, glasses, wearing overly well-made clothing colored various shades of green, and holding a cane in one hand and a cup filled with a steaming substance in the other.

The tiger pointed his sword at the new arrival. "Who are you?"

"My name is Professor Ozpin. I am the Headmaster of the Beacon Huntsman Academy." He took a sip from his drink. "And I am aware of how little that means to you."

The blade returned to its sheath. "That you are in a position of local authority and a teacher of some form and skill, but not much beyond that."

A raised, silvery eyebrow. "That was a little more than I expected you to understand. However, I am also your one opportunity to safely and quickly leave this forest, Mr.…?"

"Lejule. Is that so?"

Ozpin gestured toward the corpses of the monsters, which were beginning to dissipate. "The creatures of Grimm are numerous beyond any conceivable method of counting, and they infest the untamed regions of the world. Without help, you would last a few days, slaying many Grimm, before being overwhelmed and killed. I am offering you that help."

"And what do you want in return?"

"Merely to speak with you when we're in a safe place."

"You want more than that." He saw three shafts of sunlight behind Ozpin coalesce into a shape reminiscent of an arrow. He sighed. "However, it seems that I have little choice but to follow you for now. Lead the way."

"It might be better if we walk side by side." Ozpin took another sip. "For both our safeties."

Lejule chuckled. "Good to see that you aren't a completely trusting fool. Let's go."

About half an hour later, the pair was sitting in Ozpin's office, and he had asked for Glynda to join them. While they waited, Ozpin noted that the stranger's eyes flicked around the room occasionally, as though seeing most of the objects for the first time.

Even so, he had moved his chair to the side of Ozpin's desk, ensuring that neither the Headmaster nor the office door were out of sight for more than a second or so at a time.

Very smart and well-trained. Or very experienced. Either one is good. When Glynda arrived, Ozpin cleared his throat. "Now that we're all here, we can talk properly. It may be better to alternate between our questions and yours, as I am sure you have many."

"Just two: Can you get me home or, failing that, what can I do while I'm here?"

Glynda and Ozpin looked at each other. Oz was the first to look back. "Well, I'm sure you'll have more questions by the time we're finished. To answer your first question, unfortunately, we have neither the technology nor any other method to send someone to another world."

Lejule's arms, which he had folded when he'd asked his questions, fell, one to the desk and the other to his side. "How–?"

"Your reaction to most everything around you." He sipped his coffee. "Also Akatosh."

Glynda looked at Ozpin, her eyes narrowed in confusion. "What is 'Akatosh?'"

It was Lejule who answered. "'Who,' actually. Akatosh, or Alkosh or Auriel depending on who is worshipping Him, is the God of the Sun and Time and is the chief of the Nine Divines of my world. So, I have to ask…" He leaned towards the Headmaster. "How do you know of Him?"

Ozpin took another swig. "Even gods can worry about their wayward children."

"So, He told you who I am."

A shake of the older man's head. "No. He told me what you are, dragonborn, but not who, nor did He say what you are capable of."

Glynda looked askance at Ozpin, who nodded and allowed her to take control of the conversation. "On that subject, and to answer your second question, what you can do here depends on what you are capable of. So, to start, do you have any combat training?"

"My father trained me in the proper use of heavy armor, while my mother taught me how to fight with blade, shield, and magic, and my uncle-a-few-times-removed instructed me in the workings of most other weapon types on Nirn. Field experience has taught me all other methods of melee and ranged combat. Through the College of Winterhold, a school for mages, I honed my talents in magic. My…friend, Aela, gave me the knowledge to be a better bowman. Finally, under the tutelage of Paarthurnax and the other Greybeards, I mastered every known Thu'um."

Goodwitch stopped typing into her tablet and looked up at Lejule. "Thoom?"

The cat shook his head. "Thu'um, pronounced as two nearly-indistinguishable syllables. It is a powerful, word-based form of magic that takes years or even decades of meditation and study to learn."

"I see." Despite her even tone, Ozpin could plainly see that she was skeptical even as she recorded that information. "And what of your non-combat talents?"

"I am a healer and a master enchanter, alchemist, and blacksmith." He paused, taking a steadying breath and visibly holding back tears. "My wife and children say that I'm a decent cook, as well."

Ozpin examined Glynda's notes. "Interesting. Tell me, have you ever instructed someone in the art of combat?"

Lejule nodded. "My children."

"Would you be willing to teach others?"

"Do not dance around your request. Say it plainly."

Ozpin adjusted his glasses. "Very well. I would like to hire you as a combat instructor here at my school, teaching the next generation of Huntsmen and Huntresses, this world's premier defenders." He finished off his coffee. "You will, of course, be paid well and receive free room and board. In addition, you'll have full use of our infirmary if you are ever injured and our forge to keep your weapons and armor in good repair."

"Do I have any other choice?"

"In truth, none that would not be either illegal or a massive waste of your talents."

Lejule hung his head and sighed. "Fine. What will I have to do?"

"There are a few things we'll have to work on to prepare you for your new life here, however brief it may be. For now, I'd suggest getting some rest. You've had a long day."

Ozpin's concern was dismissed with a wave of Lejule's hand. "There are times I have pushed myself far harder for much longer. What can we do right now?"

Glynda reopened the note-taking program on her tablet. "Well, we can record basic information such as height, weight, age, et cetera."

"And name."

Lejule tilted his head. "I already told you my name."

Ozpin nodded. "Yes, you did, but it may need to change while you're here."

"Why is that?"

Glynda spoke up. "Does your name have a reference to color?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"A little over eighty years ago, all of Remnant, this world, was ruled by a single…empire, I guess you would say. The rulers were oppressive and intolerant and tried to quash all forms of freedom and expression. As a show of defiance, parents began naming their children after terms reminiscent of color, a tradition that has continued to this day."

Lejule remembered Sheogorath's words and nodded, finally understanding them.

Ozpin tapped his cane to punctuate the witch's words. "Therefore, having a name that bears no relation to color may attract unwelcome attention. So, is there any color-based name you would like to use?"

The cat looked away, his eyes shifting and head tilting as he thought on the subject. Then he closed his eyes and cringed at what had to be a painful memory.

"I apologize. If this is too emotionally painful for you, we can–"

"Jasiir."

Glynda looked at him. "Pardon?"

"The name I would like to use is Jasiir Daytha. It means 'twilight claws' in my birth language."

Ozpin nodded, stood, and held out his hand. "Very well. Let me be the first to welcome you to Beacon, Professor Jasiir Daytha."