I do not own Guild Wars franchise nor Rwby, which is regrettable, considering a chimpanzee with a typewriter could probably write a better plot than Rooster teeth has for the past 4 volumes. The only thing I own is the Oc.

'thought'

"Speech"

System

"Speech through Scrolls and Text via book, notes, or newspaper... when those are around..."

(Mid Chapter Authors Notes)

'Ugh, wh-'

I sit up slowly, cringing as I bring a hand to my head. 'Ow... fuck. Shit. Damn it!'

My eyes crack open, and immediately I can tell something is wrong.

'This isn't... my bedroom?'

I bring both hands to my head as another headache strikes me.

Around me is a forest of some sort... just the average forest full of pine trees, oak, maple- and is that a yew? Oh, that's pretty rare, it'd make a good bow- wait a fucking- how do I know that?

I have done zero fletching or leatherworking in my life, so why- wait, leatherworking?

I look down at my body, I am wearing a long red and black trench coat made of thick leather, a large portion of the coat is black, while the outside rim is a deep blood red, on the inside, I have a fine shirt, a deep teal in color, so deep in fact it may be confused for black if you glance over it, around my waist is a brown belt with several bullets throughout, and from my shoulder to my hip is a bandoleer with dozens of large rifle rounds along it.

I brush a strand of my hair out of my face only to freeze and quickly pull it back into my eyesight.

'White?! What the fuck?!'

'I have brown hair-' I bring a hand up to my face and let out a long groan, brushing my chin length white hair out of my face again. 'I see.'

I glance to the leathery shoulder pads and leathery boots.

These experiences... I have never done anything like this before...

It all makes sense.

I am a guild wars character- or at the very least I became MY guild wars two character... the fight against the centaurs, the shadow behemoth, several giant zombie dragons, Zhaitan the elder dragon of death and decay... I remember it all... yet at the same time, I don't?

I slowly clench my fist and let out a long sigh.

'wait... if I am my guild wars character-'

I reach around to my back and grab onto the stock of a gun, I pull it around to see an absolutely beautiful rifle, a mix of black and white hilights, the barrel is black with a slight very dark blue-ish shine, dotted with small flecks of white that represent stars, below that is a white line that coils around the barrel, almost looking like music notes, near the back is a blue ring of metal surrounding a large circle of white, held in place with more blue metal.

The trigger is solid black, with a crescent moon where you are supposed to place your finger, and on the hammer is a white crescent moon, the stock of the gun is a brilliant pearl-like white with several black lines across it, each speckled with stars.

I smile down at the gun and almost lovingly brush my hand along it.

The Equinox rifle skin. And I can tell from my strange two-tone memories and experiences... that this isn't just a blunderbuss with a skin on it... it is... special...

I close my eyes.

Ah. I see. The lore of the 'real world' game... this weapon alone caused considerable damage to Tequatl the Sunless, one of Zhaitan's generals... and considered a 'world boss' that takes dozens of players to best. I had made a name for myself back in that world... the legitimate world, not the game's world. Moonlit Sniper... ugh so gaudy and edgy. It was better than 'The Raptor Rider', sure, but ugh. Uncreative bastards. At least it wasn't 'The Hero of Shaemoor'... motherfucker, in game I didn't even participate in that boss fight! The gate closed and instead of waiting for the event to end I jumped off a cliff and walked around the entire outpost, and by the time I fished myself out of the moat, the elemental hands were dead and I was just close enough to be hit by the cutscene!

Apparently, the 'real' version of my character wasn't even there, he was a couple maps over killing centaurs.

I place the gun back on my back and reach down to my hips, drawing two pistols.

Ah... another favorite...

The twin pistols mirror each other perfectly, they are blackish in color with gold highlights here and there, but the hilts are a vibrant purple glass mixed with metal, much like a stained-glass window, the rest of the guns have brass vines with small leaves coiling loosely around the rest of the gun, and where the top of the gun and the hammer should be, are several large jagged pink glass crystals pointed backwards. Can't go wrong with 'Defiant Glass'.

I put the pistols back in their holsters and force myself to my feet.

I take a small step forwards and slowly look around.

The forest hasn't changed much. Is this still the guild wars universe? If so. Fuck. I don't want to deal with elder dragons!

Let's take stock of what I have...

'Inventory?'

A mystical page opens up, much to my relief.

Sixty slots. Quite a few of them are filled, sharpening kits, salvaging kits, even a spare sword and dagger if I wanted to swap it up a little.

I tilt my head as I hear gunfire in the distance. 'hn? Well, I wonder what that is.'

I close my inventory and begin to make my way towards the noises, with a flicker I disappear completely and begin rapidly moving through the underbrush.

I leap up and grab onto a branch, using my momentum to swing myself up into the trees, I smirk at my newfound agility and quickly hop branch to branch on my way towards the sounds of gunfire.

I reach the edge of the forest, and I blink downwards, I had nearly leapt off a cliff, I stare down at some sort of village, the entire thing seems to by styled after a Japanese pagoda... which is strange because that type of building is nowhere to be found in Tyria.
'damn wall. I can't see what's going on.'

I climb up higher in the tree and coil my way around the trunk and branches, sitting on a branch as I bring up a knee and use it as a stand for my rifle which I draw from my back.

I look down the iron sights with a frown.

Really regretting not having a gun with a scope right now, but... I'm used to it... or, rather, Gareth Welsh is used to it.

'what is it? Centaurs? The Risen? A bunch of beasts? Gods forbid some sort of wyvern or dragon. Those things always kick my ass when I don't have the jump on them.'

Even the fucking babies. Why the fuck a lv 80 hatching- which is admittedly as large as a player character- can shoot beams which can turn a level eighty player character with peak armor into nothing more than a corpse in under a second, I don't know, but they are fucking busted.

"What the fuck is that?" I quietly hiss out as a large... thing... steps into view.

It looks like a giant horse and some sort of demon rider have fused into one? Ooooh it's one of those uh... Japanese spirit things. Uhhh... Nuckelavee! That's what they are called.

I watch as the rider's two lankly hands smash into a humanoid figure and pin it to the wall.

It looks a little strange, the horse is black as night with white bones trailing down its spine, and the rider has two massive bone white curved horns. The horse's ribs are showing, along with parts of its skull, red glowing eyes peek out from pieces of black flesh as I let out a sigh. "A Risen... great. Damn it Zhaitan... didn't I kill the shit out of you?"

'If I take out the horse, the rider won't be able to move and I'll get to land a second shot on it.'

I adjust my aim and hold my breath.

*CRACK*

The gun kicks back into my shoulder as a glowing light with a small trail arcs from the barrel of the gun, dozens of pine needles falling around me as it clears the distance of at least a thousand or so feet in under a quarter of a second, and with a splash of gore, black flesh, skull pieces, and... smoke? Going everywhere, only the horse's neck remains.

A glowing bullet casing is ejected from the side of the rifle as it falls to the forest floor, before it even goes half way down, it completely evaporates into white motes of light.

The beast flops over, losing its grip entirely as an absolutely ear-piercing shriek reaches me as the rider tosses its head back.

I grab a bullet from my bandoleer and slide it into the chamber. As if sensing the bullet, it clicks closed. I readjust my aim.

*CRACK*

More pine needles fall as the bullet strikes the center of the rider, causing its upper torso to explode entirely, sending one long spindly arm one way, the second, the other. It's head pops off like some sort of bottlecap as it clatters to the floor a short distance away.

I narrow my eyes as the head quickly disappears.

I sheath the rifle on my back and untangle myself from the branches, then slowly crawl my way downwards.

I land with a crouch as I look over the walled village.

'hn.'

I leap off the cliff, two large, dark scaley wings tipped with gold and jewels appearing on my back and slowing my fall while simultaneously propelling me forwards.

'Wait a minute- I can FEEL these!'

I give them a small flap, causing me to rise briefly before continuing my glide.

I land at the wall of the village, my two wings disappearing like they never even existed in the first place.

I calmly walk around the wall and into the village.

'lets see here.'

Immediately I notice that this village seems to be abandoned, as the lack of screaming is fairly noticeable, as is the fading paint and broken roads. It has probably been like this for a considerable time... dozens of years perhaps? Maybe less, considering that most of this wear and tear could have been caused by The Risen.

Ugh. The risen.

You haven't seen nightmares until you have seen a twenty-story zombie dragon with its organs hanging out and still fighting, hell, not even fighting... FLYING.

God rest that poor lion guard's soul... getting slapped off the wall by a swooping dragon's intestines and immediately having his bones snap like twigs.

I slowly blink as I hear a weak cough, I turn towards a destroyed building, a crumpled form laying among the wreckage.

I slowly walk over and gaze down at a woman with scarlet red hair, fairly unusual, but who am I to comment.

Her limbs are twisted and broken; she barely seems conscious.

'hm.'

I wave a hand, a wispy ring of darkness forming around us as her limbs begin slowly untwisting.

She passes out after letting out a weak groan.

After about thirty seconds her critical wounds have been healed, leaving her with only minor injuries.

'She'll be fine now.'

I slowly turn and walk towards the spot where I last saw the beast.

I cross my arms and look around. 'hn. There's nothing left.'

I crouch down and slowly look around. 'really? Ugh. Did Zhaitan start making his undead completely out of shadow? That's annoying.'

I stand up and brush off my coat, I glance to the woman who seems to be slowly stirring.

She's the one who was smashed into the building... and if she survived that, well, now that her limbs are fixed, she'll be fine.

The most logical course of action would be to ask her for the nearest village or city, but eh, I'm more of a loner... besides, she has clearly seen me, and I have to keep up my 'mysterious stranger' persona. If she gets out of here, she'll tell of a white-haired man, cloaked in red and black, who slayed the beast who nearly killed her with two shots. This sort of mysterious aura has been cultivated by me for nearly a decade now. All for one reason...

I don't like people.

Hate 'em with a passion.

Anxiety in one life, multiple betrayals in the second.

There are some exceptions, however... it was pretty amusing to have Logan Thackery track me down and ask for me to join 'The Pact' to take down Zhaitan. Shame those poor bastards don't know that when you kill one dragon, its powers get split among the rest. Meaning Primordus, Jormag, and all the others can now control the undead... which is bad.

I hadn't seen any other 'touches' to that monster, no ice, plant, crystal or fire... but I was also fairly far away, so they could have existed and I wasn't able to spot it. if this really is the world of Guild Wars two, then which dragon was in command of the beast? Maybe it was Zhaitan and I was just placed in the past? If so, it'll be in my best interest to give them the idea that when a dragon is slain, the others will gain its powers.

Or maybe this isn't Tyria at all.

An interesting idea, but if this isn't Tyria, then where the fuck am I?

I take a drink of my waterskin and boredly look around the forest.

It has been a day since I left that village behind, there has been no sign of human life at all.

No sign of any life, actually... ugh. Maybe I should have stayed with that woman.

The hairs on the back of my neck raise briefly.

Ah I see. I am being stalked.

I continue walking as if I hadn't even felt anything.

My body warbles as gunfire goes off, the bullets passing cleanly through the mirage as I stop dead in my tracks.

"Bandits?" I mutter as I turn my head back, glaring hatefully backwards.

I tilt my body backwards as a large chakram-like blade arcs through the space my head was in moments ago.

A pistol frees itself from my holster and with a squeeze of the trigger, a single bullet strikes the woman in the stomach, her mad dive is granted additional height as she flips through the air and lands in a crumpled heap on the other side of me as a warm crackling barrier around her body fades.

'No blood? Do they have some sort of shield mage around?'

I twist my body and point my gun backwards, firing off two more shots, the first creating a large gouge in a tree as it strikes the shoulder of the man hiding behind it, knocking him onto his back as wood splinters pelt his face and chest.

Once more, my gun did not pierce the skin.

Annoying.

The final shot strikes a bandit right between the eyes, his head snaps back as a shower of skull pieces and brain fly out the back of his head, there is a crackle of light around him as he falls backwards, dead.

It appears the shield is gone as I point my pistol down at the woman.

I frown as she cracks open an eye, large bruise appearing on her bare stomach.

She has short brown hair, barely half an inch long, sky blue eyes, and tanned skin, she wears a coat with the sleeves messily cut off at the shoulders and has a large bird tattoo on her arm, her pants are dirty and ripped at the knees.

The girl cringes slightly and brings a hand to her stomach. "Who... Who are you?"

"Skirmisher." I respond in a low tone. "you are the leader of these bandits, correct? Tell me where the nearest town it, and maybe I'll let you live."

She is quite strong, in Tyria, Garreth Welsh, or rather, I was maybe in the top one percent of fighters when you take into account my strengths and my type of attack, but while sniping is my preferred style, it wasn't all I could do, I was extremely adept with dual pistols, swords, and daggers. Definitely in the top ten percent of sword and dagger wielders, and top three to five percent of pistol marksmen.

This woman would be considered top fifty. Not very impressive considering a majority of the people on Tyria are noncombatants, but she surpasses simple guards... I'd place her at around... level forty if I had to guess. A little low for a bandit leader, I suppose, most of the actual threatening ones were above level fifty, the most dangerous ones creeping up to maybe even level seventy to seventy-five.

The woman has the audacity to smirk. "Leader? No. No, I'm not."

I leap backwards as a portal snaps to life, a large blade cleaves through where my neck was moments before as a figure lunges out of the portal, she has long, messy, black hair white mask on her face, she wears some sort of kimono that ends in a short skirt, then long black leggings that leave a small thigh gap.

She lunges forwards again, sword arcing for me one more, causing me to gain a small smirk.

She's not half bad. Maybe a level fifty-five? She is definitely decent... but a level seventy-five struggles against a level eighty... and as skilled as she may be... I am faster, stronger, more durable...

I draw a red blade from the sheath on my back, using it to parry her slash to the side, causing her to over extend.

The hilt is made of silver with a fairly simple designed cross guard, there is a small gem connecting the cross guard to the rest of the handle, a ribbon is tied around the pommel, the blade is a dark red, made of some sort of crystal with dark veins of black running throughout.

The woman ducks backwards as I bring my pistol up and fire off a single shot, doing a backhand spring and trying to kick me in the face.

I take a single step back, avoiding the attack as I give her a half-lidded stare. "You're not bad. What's your name? Most banditry of your skill level are at the very least infamous."

The woman raises her blade and gets into a stance. "Raven. Raven Branwen."

I pause. "Hn... so that's where I am."

Rwby. I'm in fucking Rwby.

In my brief moment of pause she lunges forwards; I snap back to attention barely twisting around her slash as the blade extends about a foot longer than it was originally.

I slash upwards, ruffling her clothing and carrying her backwards with the mere force of my attack as she slams the pommel of her katana on the edge of my sword.

She flips through the air and lands with a crouch.

"You are not half bad." The woman states as she sheathes her blade. "May I have your name?"

"Garreth Welsh."

I suddenly feel surprise radiate off her as I blink, I bring a hand up to my cheek, touching a thin cut that begins bleeding.

"I-" the woman mutters. "Do you not have aura?"

"No. I don't." I answer with a frown as I raise my sword.

I appear in front of her, forcing her to barely deflect a slash as I smash the handle of my pistol into her nose and kick her in the stomach.

My cut heals as she lets out a growl and slides backwards in the dirt.

A red barrier crackles across her stomach.

"Better fighters than you have tried to kill me and died. What makes you so different?" I ask with a raised eyebrow as I put my pistol back in my holster.

I suddenly draw it again and point it behind me, firing a single shot that strikes the earlier woman right in the shoulder, there is a spurt of blood as the barrier around herself shatters, sending her to the ground, clutching her shoulder.

If she didn't have aura, that arm would be gone completely. I should probably tell her that.

"If you didn't have Aura. That arm would have been cut off. Stay out of this fight if you don't want to die."

I smirk as my body fades around a slash from Raven.

The barrel of a pistol presses into the back of her head.

*BANG*

She barely avoids the bullet as she flings her entire body forwards, I point my off hand upwards as dozens of spears violently pierce the ground, heading right for her torso and head.

I am knocked backwards as an absolutely titanic blast of wind smashes into me.

I land and skid across the ground as the masked woman swiftly floats above the pikes of steel.

"You... You are dangerous." She mutters as she slowly turns to face me.

"True." I nod as I grab my second pistol.

I point both at her and absolutely unload, firing several bullets from each gun as she tries to weave through the air around them, her hands crackle with electricity as she places her offhand in front of some of the bullets, and she uses her sword to cut through others.

*This is where I stopped writing*

This was something I had written a while ago... never really finished it since I lost inspiration for it... but hey, the 'Huntsmen of Dice' fic has had 8k words added to it, bringing it up to near 14k total words.

Anyways, See ya!