Surprise! A new story from yours truly.

Let's all just ignore the fact that I said that I wasn't a huge fan of RWBY in my last story because the latest season changed my mind. Also, I'm going to be arrogant enough to believe that I can add my own spin onto it to make it more enjoyable for myself.

I'm confident that this story will go better because I'll be writing for an original character and because I sort of planned out how it's gonna go.

Anyways, the main character is going to be the Dragonborn, whose past will be revealed gradually as the story progresses, and the pairing will be a surprise. I'll give you a hint though, it's a pairing that I've never written before! Wait- that didn't narrow it down at all...

Oh yeah, I don't own RWBY or the Elder Scrolls series so there's that.

Without further ado, please enjoy my story.

Chapter 1: Envoy From a Foreign Land

"FUS RO DAH!"

The shout that had started His servant's journey resounded throughout His realm like thunder on a silent night, the effects bearing down on His other, more traitorous servant oppressively as he was pressed into the platform with the force of a god. Miraak was a fool, that much was made clear when he had sent his servants to provoke the one being that could defeat him. If there was ever a shout that could encapsulate His servant so perfectly, it would be Unrelenting Force. Ever since he had undertaken his trivial quest to save Tamriel from the grasp of Alduin, nothing had stood in his path; not dragons, not the Dark Brotherhood... not even His fellow Daedric Princes could prevent the doom-driven hero from doggedly pursuing his destiny. Which is exactly why Miraak was so foolish; did he really think that he could defeat the being that had absorbed the souls and knowledge of over a hundred dragons?

The deafening shout had a quiet aftermath, only the sound of fluttering papers and staggering footsteps filled the platform as the Last Dragonborn approached the First. Miraak had no more dragons to hide behind and consume, his soul was now laid bare before his superior. His once elegant (and, dare He say it, fetching) robes were torn and tarnished in several places and his mask was partially destroyed, revealing what must have been a surprisingly plain face to his fellow Dragonborn. He wasn't doing so well either, his torso had numerous cuts and contusions and his right arm hung limply at his side, a side effect from the shoulder wound that was inflicted upon him at the fight's onset. Yet, much like the shout, he progressed forward, pushing aside all obstacles as he progressed forward towards his objective.

He took the scimitar that he had rested idly on his shoulder and flipped it, preparing to stab it downwards into the kneeling body of his foe.

Half-lidded eyes gazed at the downed figure. "Honestly, why would you even want to go back to Tamriel, brother? Place is a shithole... Solstheim is pretty much just an ashy wasteland, definitely not the place you're used to. And don't even get me started on Skyrim, that province could make the Shivering Isles seem stable."

"Surely you jest! You would tire of this wretched hellhole within a matter of hours, much less a day!" cried Miraak as he glared up at the Dragonborn, more of his mask falling apart.

His servant rolled his eyes dismissively as he repositioned his sword onto his shoulder "Calm down you madman, face your death with some dignity. Besides, what's there not to like? You've got books for leagues and even little squid... octopus friends." He leaned down towards Miraak, a mocking grin on his face "Did I mention the books?"

The First balled his hands into fists and slammed them into the platform, wasting the last vestiges of his physical strength in a petulant tantrum "You're not even trying to make this place seem more appealing! Imagine waking up every morning to a tentacle whipping you. And, by the dov! Imagine having to listen to Hermaeus Mora's voice constantly, it's maddening!"

The Dragonborn closed his eyes and nodded pensively "I can see how you would go mad if you had to listen to him yammering on about how he's the Prince of Knowledge for thousands of years. Seriously, does he think he's intimidating when uses that dumb voice? And those tentacles are disgusting, does he cover them with tar? He should be trying to seduce people instead of trying to repulse them..."

Wait. Weren't they supposed to be fighting?

"See! I'm not the only one!" Miraak laughed loudly, extending his arms towards the mass of tentacles in the sky which He was using to observe the two Dragonborn. After thousands of years, Miraak was well-versed in the means his former master used to survey His realm.

He could feel the annoyance growing within Him as His two servants, which were once enemies, continued to bond through their shared annoyance of the voice that He deigned to share with those lesser beings. He supposed it was to be expected as mortals, especially the races of men, were quite willful, a symptom of their short, insignificant lives. Ancient beings such as Himself had to learn to be patient and cautious if they wanted to thrive, though some wielded their power like a troll might use their strength: clumsy and without a higher level of thought.

It was almost time to step in and punish the foolish Miraak for his treachery but even He was curious to see how the two Dragonborn would interact with each other before the traitorous dragon priest would meet his end...

"I know what you're thinking right now: No matter what he says, I'm not truly his servant, I'm just using him for my own gains." Miraak didn't bother to look at the Dragonborn for confirmation before continuing "I once thought like that as well. His sweet, yet vexing whispers filled my ears as I used his magic and his gifts to the point where I slowly became dependent on them. Like a fool, I began to trust him despite my previous inhibitions. When the time came and all his poisoned gifts failed me and I cried out for his help, all he had to do was wait until I was helpless to fully ensnare me in his grasp."

"Of course, that doesn't have to happen to you..." Miraak looked down, concealing the manic grin spreading across his face from both of his spectators "You see, there are some things that even Hermaeus Mora doesn't know. He gifted me many a shout, that is true, but there are some that I created as well!"

"Huh? What are you tal-" The Last Dragonborn recoiled, brandishing his sword in an attempt to prepare for whatever Miraak had up his sleeves.

But it was all for naught. Even the legendary Skyforge steel couldn't stop the shout of a dragon.

"VAAZ NOL LEIN!"

One second he was there, the next he was gone, His servant didn't stand a chance. There was no dramatic tear in the fabric of the universe, there was nary a sound. Much like the Dwemer of old, he had simply disappeared. His previous annoyance seemed like the petty complaints of a child as it turned into anger and He manifested a tentacle to punish His traitorous servant.

"What have you done?" He growled out as He let His righteous fury seep into His tone.

"Come now, my lord, surely with all your knowledge you must know the meaning of those words." Miraak choked out mockingly, the tentacle piercing through his gut making it slightly more troublesome to communicate "Vaaz: to tear. Nol: from. Lein is much more abstract, but- it essentially means the universe. I'll assume that you know the implication of those words when put together."

He didn't allow His emotions to overwhelm Him as He twisted the tentacle within Miraak, finishing him off in a most painful manner. Of course not, He was much more dignified than His brutish cousins. He watched the blood pool around his corpse as the tentacle was withdrawn. It would surely begin to rot as his flesh and organs remained due to his soul not being absorbed by the Dragonborn.

He was loath to admit but even if He was the Daedric Prince of Knowledge, there were bounds to His knowledge, one example being knowledge from other realities, universes or even dreams, if you would.

That's why, as His Seekers emerged from the depths around the platform to dispose of the body and He stared at the spot where the Dragonborn once existed, He felt something He rarely felt.

Envy.

QUEST FAILED: At the Summit of Apocrypha.

QUEST STARTED: Unbound.

"Hey you. You're finally awake."

Where had he heard those words before? Right, the beginning of his journey that transformed him from a savage Reachman into a (semi)heroic Dragonborn. Was that the effect of Miraaks' miracle shout, then? To send him back in time? It didn't fit with the literal meaning of the words but, then again, Dovahzul was nothing if not an abstract language. Even now, after having absorbed the souls of many dov, Howl still needed to meditate on most words in order to understand their true meaning.

"Hey, I saw your eyes move under your eyelids, I know you're awake. Quit pretending to be asleep."

The voice decidedly did not sound like it belonged to a musclebound Nord named Ralof so perhaps the shout hadn't sent him back in time. Come to think of it, the surface he was laying on didn't feel like a poorly-driven, splinter-filled Imperial wagon. Perhaps the shout was a fluke and it simply sent him back to Nirn...

Howl opened his eyes and immediately sighed as he was greeted by the sight of a ceiling of iron (or some other sort of metal) bars; it seemed like he had to begin every journey as a prisoner, much like the other heroes recorded throughout Tamriel's history. The ceiling was covered by some sort of material so he couldn't tell what time of day it was, but judging by the darkness outside the cage, it was either a cloud-filled night or they were in some sort of dungeon.

"Welcome back the land of the living, well... I wouldn't say entirely living with all those wounds you have. Man, they must've roughed you up good." said the voice to his right.

"Where am I?" asked Howl as he reluctantly sat up and looked to his right, finding a woman with... "Deer antlers?"

Her brown eyes narrowed and her tone grew defensive "What? You got a problem with faunus?"

"What's a faunus?" he asked in confusion, attempting to scratch his head but finding that his right arm was still unresponsive; one of his tendons must have been severed.

Truthfully, the concept of men with animal-like features wasn't too surprising to Howl, many members of his former tribe had animalistic features such as fangs due to the wolfsblood granted to them by the Glenmoril Coven, he had even heard of Khajiit who could pass themselves off as men, or something close to men.

The faunus woman's tone softened, or at least morphed into confusion as she responded to his question "You've never heard of faunus before? Were you born under a rock or something?"

"Actually, yes." Howl was familiar with the expression but he literally was born under a rock. "And you never answered my question, where are we?"

"We're at Brothers' Refuge or, at least, what remains of it after the White Fang attacked." said the woman darkly, malice seeping into her tone "Now the village is as good as destroyed thanks to those bastards..."

"Come on Carmen, the White Fang would never betray the faunus, we both know that." said a boy obnoxiously in some other corner of the cage.

"Then what the hell are we, idiot? Cause they sure as shit betrayed us!" said Carmen with a shake of her head "You listen to Chester too much, he was probably the one that betrayed us and deactivated the defenses for them."

Howl gazed idly around as the pair descended into an argument, the cage seemed chock full of those faunus though there seemed to be some men as well. He wasn't too intrigued by this White Fang, they appeared to be like any of the bandit groups or cults that inhabited Tamriel except for the fact that they seemed to have some sympathizers among the faunus population if the boy was anything to go by. He frowned as he noticed that his captors took his enchanted rings, his sword, his satchel and even his amulet of Akatosh, did this White Fang group have no respect for the Divines? By the Nine, they even took his boots!

"Hey, don't worry. We'll get out of here, Vale's bound to notice if one of the mining villages go off the grid." Carmen said with a comforting smile that no doubt betrayed her own feelings of despair "What's your name?"

"Howl."

"Howl? What a strange name..."

"Hmph, how rude. You should be grateful, it's actually the translated version of a much stranger name."

Any retort was cut off as they interrupted by the guard who finally decided to make an appearance.

"Hey! What the hell is with all this noise, y'all better not be trying to plan an escape!" shouted the painfully generic guard as he banged on the bars to startle his prisoners. His face was concealed by a hood and a mask with bright red eye slits, he was very tall and very buff, no doubt a dumb brute sent to intimidate the prisoners and keep trouble away from the main camp. What may have been a menacing ensemble was betrayed by the wagging dog-tail sticking out of the back of his pants, signifying the fact that he was likely one of those faunus and that he was happy for some reason. Maybe he got off on scaring innocent, little prisoners such as himself.

Howl's stomach growled, making him regret having his satchel stripped of him. He tried to think of the last time he ate which made him even hungrier and his stomach even louder. If it meant starving himself to death he didn't feel like playing the prisoner and gathering information anymore, it was time to enact Escape Plan #1.

"H-hey, what's the new guy doing?"

"Is he crazy?"

"Is that asshole trying to get us all killed?"

Howl could only express his disappointment internally as he partially listened to the frenzied whispers surrounding him as he made his way towards the guard, were all faunus of such little faith? Their lives couldn't be in better hands. Or hand, considering his injury. He couldn't really tell because of the mask, but if Howl had to guess, the guard seemed bemused as his injured form progressed further and further towards the bars. That was good, if he wasn't threatened then he wouldn't be prepared for what was about to come.

"What's up with you, huh? Think you can take me on through these bars, little man?"

Howl stared into the slits of the guard's mask, careful not to let the annoyance he was feeling slip into his expression. It wasn't his fault he was short, he didn't have any control over how tall he was. Then, suddenly, he dropped to the ground and groveled like the horse thief from Rorikstead. Escape Plan #1 had begun.

A giant collective "Huh?" came from his audience, including the massive guard for whom he was currently prostrating himself for.

"Please! Please you have to let me out of here, brother!" Howl cried out, tears pouring out of his eyes as he looked up at the guard "I'm not even with them, I don't belong in a cage like the rest of these people!"

"Is this guy serious?!"

He subtly ran his eyes over the guard's body and silently cursed as he realized that he wasn't carrying the keys to cage on him, it was beginning to look like he was going to have to take a more direct approach in his escape strategy.

The guard rubbed his chin mockingly as if he were seriously contemplating letting him go. "That is true, you don't really belong with these fuckers now do you? Then again, the way you showed on our perimeter all wounded, you probably tried to fight through a bunch of grimm. You tried to save them, didn't you? I can't let you out of here if that's the case." he said with a careless shrug.

Howl stood up from the ground and laughed sheepishly "Heh, you got me!" Suddenly, as quick as a flash, his eyes narrowed dangerously and his hand shot out of the bars, gripping the guard by his neck. "I am trying to save them." Not his best response, but it worked nonetheless.

He then slammed the guard's face into the bars, strong enough to shatter his mask but, apparently, not strong enough to knock him out. "Oh, you weren't taken out by that? Let me try again."

"Wait- no! Help!"

Howl slammed his face into the bar again, again, once more, another time and again before the guard was knocked out. His victim even resorted to calling out to the prisoners for help, for all the good that did him.

The Dragonborn turned back to the rest of the prisoners with a heroic smile and thumb up but was only greeted by looks of horror. Come to think of it, some blood did spray onto his face...

Carmen was the first to speak up "You moron! He didn't even have keys! Now we're trapped in here, one of the other guards is going to come back and see him and then they're going to slaughter us!"

Howl picked one of his ears, checking for any physical damage from her shout "I'm sorry but you're going to have to be a little quieter, sister, wouldn't want to attract any more guards now would you?"

Carmen grit her teeth, creating a grinding noise that emanated throughout the cage "I'm not the one that dealt with the guard in the loudest way possible."

"Don't you worry, I'll get us all out of here, just sit back and watch." he said with a confident grin only to receive several death glares from the despairing prisoners. Apparently, they didn't appreciate his bravado.

"How... how could you possibly do that?" she muttered despondently, preparing for her death with a prayer.

"Like so. FEIM!"

Much to the wonder of the prisoners surrounding him, Howl's figure turned spectral and walked through the bars of the cage. He relished the feeling of some of his cuts healing before the shout faded shortly, leaving him in his weakened mortal form. He knelt by the body of the guard and relieved him of his sword, testing its balance and weight. Howl nodded satisfactorily, it wasn't Skyforge steel but it would do. He then turned towards the door of the cage and broke the lock in one strike, freeing his fellow prisoners.

The prisoners shuffled out one by one, unsure of themselves as they seized their freedom, some nodded their thanks while most kept their heads down and were careful to step over the body of the prison guard (though some took some liberties as revenge for his cruel treatment.) Carmen was the last one out, her shoulders seemed less tense and she looked to the ground demurely, avoiding Howl's gaze.

"Thank you..." she muttered.

Howl shook his head, a couple of loose strands of hair fell over his face.

"Don't thank me yet, there's still the rest of the bandits to take out before you're free." he said as he blew the strands out of his eyes with an annoyed huff.

"Bandits?"

"Can you do me a favor?" he asked without waiting for a response, it was the type of question that wasn't really a question, just an order disguised as one "Stay out of my way while I get rid of the rest of them, I don't want any of you to get hurt because of me."

"So what? We're just supposed to stand by while you take the White Fang on by yourself? Who cares if you can turn into a ghost or whatever, you shouldn't be taking them lightly!"

"Fine." he said with a sigh "If you really want to help, gather any weapons you can and free the rest of the prisoners, if there are any. If you're finished with that before I dispatch the rest of them, then you can help out."

"But-"

Howl looked back at her with a grin as he marched forward "Trust me; I can do a lot more than turn into a ghost. Now get!"

Tall buildings and twisted trees as silent as the dead surrounded Howl. Though he could see some sources of light in the distance, it remained mostly pitch black as the moon hid behind the cover of the clouds as if anticipating the bloodshed that would soon occur. He idly rested the stolen blade on his shoulder as he walked through the husk of a village. It certainly wasn't a dungeon, nor was it in Skyrim either, the architecture was simply too advanced: if it were a village in Skyrim it would be comprised of huts with thatched roofs, not sturdily constructed buildings made out of brick. Perhaps Miraak's shout had sent him forward in time, or maybe it even sent him to a different continent like Akavir. Come to think of it, he did see some snake-like humans; were those supposed to be the fabled Tsaesci that he had read about?

"Hey! Is that one of the prisoners? How'd he get out?"

Howl was torn out of his reverie as he noticed several White Fang pointing and shouting at him. Maybe it was a symptom of his arrogance, but he tended to space out while walking around, even in bandit camps, much to the distress of his companions. Would it be former companions now that he had no idea when or where he was? That idea disturbed him so he chose to save it for a later date when he was in a more convenient position to experience an emotional breakdown.

"He's totally spacing out right now, who does he think we are?"

He shook his head, forcing himself out of his thoughts. "Sorry, I got lost, could you point me towards the privy?"

They looked at him in disbelief and he stared right back before he realized he was supposed to be eliminating them for the other prisoners.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!"

A torrent of flame spouted out of Howl's mouth and eviscerated the White Fang lackeys in his path, turning them into ash. He sighed despondently as he watched the rest of the flames devour benches and crates; more lives lost due to the path of greed and villainy.

'Curse you Divines, for creating men with such inhibitions' thought Howl despondently (read: sarcastically), as he looted what remained of their bodies for any valuables.

"Wha- What the hell?!" and a loud bang was all he heard before he felt a massive amount of pain erupt in his right shoulder. He turned around and saw another White Fang member, one that wasn't a ransacked pile of ash, one that was holding some sort of device with a smoking barrel. Howl didn't have time to marvel at the foreign technology, though, and dived out of the path of the weapon as the henchman fired another shot. Was it some sort of advanced crossbow, perhaps a Dwemer invention- he dove out of the way once more before firing off another Fire Breath shout to prevent the White Fang member from interrupting his ruminations any further.

Howl didn't even have a moment to breathe before the forms of several other White Fang members seemed to melt out of the shadows, each with a malicious grin on their face as they surrounded their prey. The biggest one, most likely the leader, stepped out last, his apparel was unique from the mask and hood combo that served as the White Fang uniform. Instead, he left his chest bare, exposing the numerous battle scars that dotted his torso. He was a wolf faunus, judging by the one ear that poked out of his grey hair, the other looked like it was gnawed off by a rabid dog; not unlikely considering the company he kept. Howl ignored them for a moment, instead electing to rummage through the corpse of his latest victim, he felt comfortable doing so because he knew that the leader would likely perform some sort of monologue to inflate his own ego. Perhaps something along the lines of how his men served as the perfect bait for a fool like Howl, or how he had planned this trap for any of the prisoners if they escaped.

"Heh, did you really think your escape attempt wouldn't be noticed by the commander of the White Fang's Seventeenth Faction: the Grey Demon, Lloyd Farrand!"

Howl cursed silently, he forgot how bandit leaders liked to brag about any of their titles.

"Do you always talk in the third person? And only the Seventeeth Faction huh? That must mean that you're pretty low on the food chain, right?"

"You bastard... " Apparently he wasn't one of the villains that liked to banter before battle. "Everyone get your guns out, we're gonna make him regret ever messing with the White Fang and then we're going to kill the rest of those fucking prisoners!"

'Guns... so that's what they're called.' If they were going to surround them while using those strange weapons, then he had the perfect shout to counter their attack. The trouble was using it at the right moment, that sweet spot right before they-

"FIRE!"

Or they could just announce when they would attack, Howl certainly wasn't going to complain.

"FEIM ZII!"

The sound of his shout intermingled with the sound of twenty-ish guns going off at the same time leaving little distinction between the two. The cacophony of the two competing noises was followed by the sound of those twenty-ish guns dropping to the floor along with their owners as their leader looked on in shock, his dangerous reputation abandoning him after having watched his men get mowed down by each other. His eyes had even developed an unhealthy twitch.

"I should be thanking you for that, brother, I hate fighting and you made this process go by oh-so-quickly! Thank the Divines for those guns you speak of, am I right?" said Howl casually as he returned to his mortal form, several of his wounds having been healed by the effects of the shout.

He sighed when the Grey Demon didn't respond, so he decided to just put him out of his misery with a quick slash from the stolen sword. If he was going to be honest, Howl hated fighting so he always tried to end his battles quickly, even if it meant spilling more blood. Maybe if he had used a show of force, the White Fang would've backed down but there were risks to that mindset too. Placing your hopes of peace in the hands of criminals and leaving a wound to fester would only lead to more trouble, in his eyes. He knew for certain that if instead of parading that bastard, Ulfric, all the way down to the Imperial City, they had executed him on the spot, the Civil War could've been avoided altogether. But what did he know? He was just the man that ended the war single-handedly.

Howl sighed once more, he had to refrain from that line of thinking, such prideful thoughts could lead to him falling to his baser instincts, the ones given to him by his dragonblood. Besides, he still had the rest of his equipment to find and the rest of the White Fang to kill.

QUEST COMPLETED: UNBOUND.

Howl sighed in frustration as his attempts at any sort of spellcraft failed miserably, he simply did not have the magicka required to perform even the most basic healing spell, although he supposed that the village's healers (apparently called doctors there) did a wonderful job of treating his wounds without the use of magic. Still, the lack of magicka was troubling; if anything, it only served to strengthen his theory that Miraak's shout had worked as intended. If he had remained within his original universe, he still would've been connected to Aetherius and thus would've had no trouble regenerating his low reserves.

As usual, though, he saved such troublesome thoughts for when he was on the privy and instead picked out his wardrobe, heroes had to look dashing after all. Howl decided to stick with the same short, enchanted robes that made him identifiable as the Dragonborn to the citizens of Skyrim, the dark green fabric seemed darker at night but the silver dragon script that ran along the edges still looked as radiant as ever; say what you want about Taarie and Endarie, but they could make some damn fine clothes. He also decided to stick with the loose grey trousers that he usually donned but instead of tucking them into boots like he always did, Howl went with sandals due to the warmer weather. As usual, he kept his trusty scimitar sheathed across the back of his waist with a black sash holding it in place.

While he mopped up with the main White Fang groups the rest of the prisoners armed themselves and wiped out any of the stragglers and freed anyone who remained. Howl didn't know why they didn't just try to fend off the terrorist, pseudo-bandit group in the first place, but he wasn't one to judge, it all worked out in the end anyway...

Though the villagers had won a key victory and had secured their freedom for the time being, the mood among the adults was more pessimistic than cheerful as they had learned that they would have to abandon their homes for the time being. Apparently, they had managed to repair a device called the radio which allowed them to communicate with people over long distances but were unable to repair the defenses that protected the village from the beings known as Grimm which, in this universe, posed a great threat to humanity and whatever the collective term for the faunus was. Using the radio, they informed the authorities of the land of their situation and were able to secure reinforcements to aid in the repair and reinforcement of their defenses but, much to their irritation, they would also be sent to aid in their evacuation. Much like the previous universe, the inhabitants seemed more keen on preserving what they had rather than focusing on personal safety.

The mood among the children of the village was decidedly more joyous. Unlike the adults who were either moping or preparing for the long voyage to the town of Lantana, which held the nearest military base, the tykes decided to crowd around the Dragonborn and badger him for details on his battle with the White Fang.

"So, Mister Howl, are you a hunter?"

"Hm, what's a hunter?" asked Howl, idly adjusting the straps of his satchel as he waited for the Bullheads (some form of transportation) that would take them to Lantana to arrive.

"You know, it's the heroes that protect the people of the different kingdoms from the Grimm."

"Alright, what makes you think I'm one of them then?" he asked with a bemused smile on his face, still not truly paying attention.

"You can use aura, that's how you turned into a ghost." said the boy matter-of-factly.

Howl looked down at the boy, now actually interested "Aura?"

"Yeah, that's how they use all their fancy semblance?"

"Semblance?" he asked, his confusion and curiosity growing at each elaboration.

Any further enlightenment was cut off as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over to his right and saw Carmen pointing up towards the sky with a melancholic smile on her face.

"You can find out more at Lantana, there's bound to be some real huntsmen over there."

Howl looked up to where she was pointing and saw a group of flying contraptions that would make the Dwemer green with envy heading towards them, framed by a single, shattered moon.

Yep, definitely not in Skyrim anymore.

QUEST STARTED: On the Hunt

A/N:

So that was a thing...

As you can probably tell, this story is going to have some humor in it, or at least, my attempts at humor. It was originally going to be more serious, Howl was going to be more of a solemn knight-like character who was going to be transported to the RWBYverse after losing to the Thalmor who succeed in their goal of destroying the boundaries between Nirn and Aetherius. But then I rewatched Fullmetal Alchemist: Brother and was influenced by Ling Yao's character and I also decided that that would've been a depressing start to the story.

I guess this story has a bit of Gintama influencing it too with how comedically Howl treats some of his fights and interactions with his enemies.

In terms of how frequently I'm going to update, I'm not going to stick to a schedule because then it'll start to feel like work. Instead, I'll just update whenever I've finished a chapter or once I've built up my backlog.

Anyways, please review, even if it's to troll or flame me, I really appreciate any feedback and I'm sure that you will too after I use it to improve my writing. Also, feel free to send me pm's about the story or any suggestions you might have. I'd be really glad to answer any questions you might have about my story.

Hope you enjoyed it, see you next chapter!