Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY, Overwatch, D&D or any of the references mentioned in this fanfic.
A/N: (I only post on so if you see this anywhere else its probably stolen, and you have my full permission to write mean comments on their page.)
Anyways, forgive me for any spelling mistakes. I'll go back and fix it later. Enjoy.
Tombstone Part 1
"Arrrrrgh!"
With a desperate scream, Jesse hoisted the hand ax high in the air and brought it down on the hard shell of the man-sized crab in front of him.
The magically enhanced weapon did its job as it managed to slice the crustacean's head down the middle, collapsing boneless and spraying Jesse with its foul-smelling liquid.
Jesse dropped to his knees beside it, huffing as the adrenaline was slowly bleeding away.
The hand ax was spotless, the liquid easily sliding off the thin magical aura that coated it. Yet the same couldn't be said for the rest of his equipment, his armor in particular was sporting several large gashes where he had been a little too slow to react to the giant mud crab's large claw.
Looking into its black empty beady eyes, it was hard to believe that it had been trying to kill him just seconds ago. Yet here it lay dead and soon to be his dinner.
Trying to stand back up, Jesse winced as he noticed a pain coming from his side and noticed a piece of dagger like chitin sticking out of his side, probably from when it had backhanded him with its thorny claws.
Gritting his teeth, he yanked it out in one move causing blood to spurt out.
"Oof!"
Reaching to his leg holster he unclasped a fancy looking screwdriver. Pointing the flathead at his open wound he called out, "Cure wounds."
From the tip, a golden beam shot out of the screwdriver, that filled him with a warm sensation.
Like magic the previously deep injury rapidly began to close itself up until there was only a patch of smooth skin behind, with the remaining blood being the only clue that he had been injured at all.
"Aand now I'm all out of spell slots, great" Jesse grumbled, once again lamenting the fact he only got two and he could only gain them back after 1 hour of resting.
Pulling down the sleeve of his right hand he exposed his forearm and the symbol of a 20-sided dice tattooed on his wrist in black ink.
With a mental command he watched the tattoo shift, flowing through his arm like an infection until it showed him a simplified view of his Character Sheet.
Name: Jesse McCree
Level 2: Artificer 2
XP: 430/900
HP: 13/19
Strength: 13 (+1)
Dexterity: 18 (+4)
Constitution: 16 (+3)
Intelligence: 16 (+3)
Wisdom: 15 (+2)
Charisma: 18 (+4)
"Looks like that crab was worth 30 XP," Jesse noted seeing the change to his XP bar, as well as hi concerning low health.
"Better take a rest now. The trek back to base will be hard enough carrying this big boy, no need to do it while injured and out of spell slots," he decided estimating that the giant crab must weigh close to 400 pounds with all that hard shell.
With a mental nudge he called forth his trusted familiar from… wherever familiars rested when they weren't needed.
In a shower of golden light, a red-tailed hawk appeared in front of him preening in all its glory.
Jesse rolled his eyes at the light show, knowing full well that it was entirely unnecessary, and it only did it because it loved the attention.
"I need you to scan the sky, and warn me of any possible danger while I rest," Jesse ordered, "Got that?"
It bobbed its head showing that it was at least more intelligent than a normal bird.
"Okay, just don't stray too far," he finished and watched the conjured animal give out a screech of affirmation before extending its wings and taking off into the sky.
Moving closer to the crab, he made to lean on against it in a sitting position, using the brim of his brown cowboy to protect his face from the sun.
(Outlaw)
The return back to his homebase was thankfully uneventful.
As he neared the village's entrance, he spotted the well-worn wooden signpost, that read Tombstone in big bright red letters over a previous crossed out name. Next to it was a smaller picket sign that said:
[If you're reading this. You are too close. Go away!]
Beyond that were several ramshackle homes in varying degrees of disrepair with some being little more than crumbled heaps of building materials. A simple dirt path leading from the entrance all the way to a large stone in the center of the village could be seen. Rusted vehicles ranging from simple cars to multi passenger trucks were parked outside of these homes as if ready to leave at a moment's notice. Large evenly spaced posts gave the impression that their might have been a fence or barrier at some point but wasn't now. Marigold flowers grew out of the ground like weeds showing that nature was slowly reclaiming back the area.
"Sigh. Home sweet home," Jesse muttered sarcastically as he walked past the 'gate'.
Behind him trailed an invisible circular disk of what appeared to be condensed air three feet in diameter carrying the body of the giant mud crab.
Walking past some of the destroyed houses and cars, Jesse made a mental note to seriously start to clear some of the rubble, maybe fix a couple. Anything to get rid some of the village's dreary atmosphere.
Walking past the well, he continued to walk until he was in front of the biggest building directly facing the village entrance. Unlike the others, this one was still mostly intact besides the large broken in window that took up the majority of one wall. Above the building was a large sign that spelled 'SALOON'.
Rather than going into it straight away, Jesse walked all the way around the building to the back where a small outdoor smithy had been set up.
His workshop consisted of a simple forge, a couple worktable and the few tools he could scavenge from the surrounding houses and cars.
"Alrighty time to get to business," Jesse announced.
After grabbing a couple clean buckets, he pushed the body of the crab off the floating disk and onto one of the empty tables. Grabbing his screwdriver, he pressed the large ruby on the pommel of the golden handle and mentally went through a list of tools that he would need to dismantle the large crustacean. The screwdriver disappeared in a puff of smoke that quickly dissipated to show said tools now in his hands.
Placing down the rest Jesse grabbed the bone saw and got to work.
(18+1/10) Survival Check Passed!
His hands moved with a grace and speed that could only be seen in master craftsmen. Despite this being his first time, he instinctively knew all the perfect spots to hit it at along with the right amount of pressure and angle of his chop. He made it look so easy that it practically looked like the meat was sliding out of the shell all on its own. By the time he finished only a scant 20 minutes had gone by and only because he needed to go inside to get more buckets for the crab meat.
As much as he would have love to boil the crab first, he simple didn't have a pot large enough that would hold it or the water to spare. Still by the time he was finished he was left with a little under 100 pounds of crab meat.
With a mental switch all his tools transformed back into a screwdriver. The table, slick with crab juices, was easily cleaned with several casting of Prestidigitation that left it spotless.
Grabbing the bucket of meat, he made his way inside the saloon, pushing past the swinging doors to see… a surprising clean interior. A bar shelf with a wooden counter lined the back wall facing the entrance, a large side door leading to the kitchen. Polished wooden tables were evenly placed on both sides of the room, ten in total, with four seats to a table. From the ceiling hung three chandeliers, though many of the bulbs were missing. Two sets of staircases on either end led to the second floor where a few rooms could be seen.
It had taken a couple of days of fixing to make it look this nice, but Jesse was glad he did.
Leaving the crab meat in the kitchen Jesse headed toward his room on the second floor, where a wooden bathtub full of water was already waiting for him. Without much ceremony he began to strip himself of his armor and clothing pausing only when he got to his left arm which was covered in bandages from the elbow down. Then without warning he detached it in one move showing that it had been a prosthetic arm.
Putting it aside, he climbed into the tub, allowing the cool water to sooth his tired muscles.
It had been two months since he had first woken up in this abandoned ghost town with only some basic equipment and a missing limb. The first couple of days had been rough. Taken from his home and dumped into another world had left him terrified and confused.
How did he know he was in another world?
Easy. His world didn't have a fucking shattered moon.
Other things that clued him in that he was no longer in his world was the fact that when he was scavenging for supplies, he kept coming across foreign currency, strange weaponry, and mentions of monsters called Grimm. Now he wasn't stupid, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that he had somehow wound up in the world of RWBY. Plus, the world map titled Map of Remnant and the book How to survive in Vacuo were a big help.
The final confirmation came on the third day when he was attacked by bat-like Grimm, no doubt having been attracted to all of the negative emotions he had been giving off. He still wasn't sure what happened that night, but it felt like he had snapped. His body had moved before his mind could react; long ingrained instincts surfaced as he cleaved through their dark bodies with his ax. At times his body would bend and contort at just the right time to avoid their attacks or allow his armor to lesson the blow. Time seemed to slow as he found the weaknesses in their moves that he could exploit to deliver a devastating attack. For the first time in his life, he knew what it was like to fight to survive.
He barely emerged victorious that night, but it was enough to light a fire in his heart. Panting with exhaustion, covered in wounds, back against the cold ground staring up at the bright broken moon, he made a promise- No, not a promise.
A vow.
A vow that he would make out of this death world and return home.
And so, with a newfound sense of determination Jesse had quickly gotten to work the following days preparing himself.
Fortunately for Jesse, whatever had dumped on Remnant hadn't left him completely defenseless.
He received the powers of a D&D character. And not just any character but the enemy boss that he made to torment his player. Talk about karma huh?
Joel d'Cannith. A scion of House Cannith, born out of wedlock to Aaron d'Cannith and a Vistani woman after the former was disinherited for speaking against his house's actions during the Last War. Unfortunately, shortly after he was born his mother mysteriously disappeared leaving him to be raised only by his father, who at that point had grown to resent House Cannith and the other Dragonmarked houses who were greatly profiting from the ongoing conflict. So he raised Joel not just as his son but as his way to atone for his part in the war. The Twelve dragonmarked houses needed someone to keep them in check and Joel was destined to be that someone. His childhood was marked with only pain and lessons as he was made to undergo harsh training every day. He would eventually grow up to become a founding member of Blackwatch, a secret organization dedicated to maintaining peace and restricting the dragonmark houses from the shadows.
At some point he would go on to discover multiverse travel and would pop up to help or antagonize the players in different settings as a sort of easter egg.
What did this mean for him?
Well besides gaining access to magic and D&D class abilities that would allow him to compete if not surpass regular Huntsmen, he had a slim chance of someday returning home. All he needed to do was survive long enough and gain levels.
Finishing his bath, Jesse toweled himself off and reattached his prosthetic arm. With a wave of his arm, he cast Prestidigitation over the water and his dirty clothes, leaving them clean and spotless.
Once he was dressed, he gave himself a quick look in the mirror, giving himself a mental pat on the back when he didn't flinch away.
As it just so happens Jesse didn't just get Joel's abilities, he also gained his body… or rather a younger version of it.
Standing at 5 foot 2 inches, with medium length brown hair and eyes, tan skin with a slim athletic build. His attire consisted of a dusty brown cowboy hat, grey button up shirt, brown pants, and dark cowboy boots and gloves. He chose to forgo his armor at the moment since he still needed to repair it, but it was made up of a studded leather vest, a pair of vambraces and greaves, tool belt, and a red shawl.
All in all, he looked like a young version of Jesse McCree from Overwatch. Not surprise since that's who he based Joel d'Cannith on.
Yep, his first Dungeons and Dragons game had been an Overwatch inspired campaign. His D&D group was actually his previous Overwatch league team who decided to give tabletop games a try after Overwatch 2 came out and not liking some of the new changes to the game. Pity they had to change Jesse McCree's name to Cole Cassidy since Jesse always found it hilarious that he shared a name with a videogame character. He even shared a passing resemblance to the character but then again, most Texans could too.
Still, it was unsettling to see your reflection and not your usual face. Not to say he was ugly before, but there was just something off about his appearance. It was too… beautiful? Like someone had used photoshop to get rid off all the imperfections that came from being human. He looked closer to a comic book character come to life than an actual person.
"Well that's what 18 in charisma get you I suppose," Jesse said with a frown, noticing that it came out as more of a cute pout, which made him frown even harder, "Sigh. Hopefully my beard comes in sooner this time."
(D&D Outlaws)
His fist whistled as it cut throw the air to hit the dummy on its temple. It was quickly followed by two rapid body shots that finished with an uppercut.
Crack!
The dummy's head was sent flying back, rolling on the ground several feet before coming to a stop.
It was moments like this that made Jesse realize just how absurd D&D mechanics could get when applied to real life. By his calculations he should be doing just two points of damage. That didn't seem like much, and it wasn't, until you realize that civilians had an average of four HP. Meaning just two hits from him was enough to kill a normal person.
Sure, Huntsmen and Huntresses could probably do that too, but that was with aura he was guessing. And heck a knife did just as much damage, but back home it was almost unheard of to kill someone with a punch without being a professional fighter.
Retrieving the dismembered head, he placed it back on the dummy, trying to get the two broken halves as perfectly aligned as he could.
He then began to concentrate, as he tried to visualize the two halves being put back together.
After a minute he finally spoke, "Mend," as he pushed outward with his magic. A warm sensation rising from his chest as it traveled down his arm to his fingertips and then soaked into the material.
The two broken areas were briefly covered by small arcs of static shock that disappeared, leaving behind a smooth flawless area, as if it had never been broken in the first place.
That was one of House Cannith's special powers, the ability to fix any broken object with but a touch.
A useful ability that had made it possible to salvage as many supplies from the village as possible.
Getting back into his previous stance he was about to continue his training when the distinct cry of a hawk reached him, signaling the return of his familiar.
He didn't have to wait long as it swooped in to land on his shoulder, sharp talons unable to penetrate his armor.
"What did you find?" Jesse asked it as he rubbed a finger down its feathers.
The image of a herd of wild pigs flashed though his mind.
While his familiar was incapable of talking the spiritual bond they formed allowed for basic communication were they could transmit thoughts, ideas, and feelings to each other. Jesse could even see and hear through his familiar if the two were in range.
"Good. And the other thing I asked for?"
The hawk shook its head negatively.
"Pity. But there's no time to rest. I have another job for you?"
(Outlaw)
Laying flat on the ground, Jesse observed the gathered herd from a distance.
There appeared to be 18 in total.
He wanted to get as many as he could, preferably a male and female so he could breed them.
Going over his equipment he was armed with a hand axe, a crossbow, his magic screwdriver, and a hidden trick up his sleeve, quite literally.
The whole area was dry grassland with hardly any trees to act as cover forcing him to crawl on his belly as he drew closer.
(24/10) Stealth Check Passed!
Amazingly he was able to keep himself hidden until he was only 30 ft away.
He mentally prepared himself as he counted down from three.
Three.
Two.
One.
The metal bolt flew from the grass crossing the distance between Jesse and the biggest of the pigs in the blink of an eye, burying itself deep in its neck.
It let out a pain filled squeal to warn the others, but it was already too late as Jesse's hand shot out revealing a tattoo of dream bubble with three Zs on his wrist.
"Sleep," he ordered.
The tattoo disappeared and an invisible wave of force was expelled from his palm.
When the wave met the herd, the smallest of the bunch crumpled to the ground like marionettes that had their stings cut.
This caused another wave of panic that finally sent the others to run away.
Only the injured one refused to run like the others as it stared at Jesse with hate. With shaking legs and labored breathing, it managed to stand like it was preparing for one heroic final charge.
Jesse raised an eyebrow.
(Outlaw)
Inspecting the newly constructed pig pen, Jesse watched the litter of piglets noisily eat from the trowel. Wordlessly he took out a piece of crispy bacon and ate it.
A/N:
Full stats below. Its okay it you don't understand at first. I'll touch on some of it, but it isn't necessary to know what everything means. This is only for nerds like me who want to know the exact mechanics behind builds.
Just now that these stats will hardly change through out the story. Max level of a Dungeons and Dragons character is 20. After that I might do something but that depends on how the story is going.
Finally, I'll be taking some creative liberty with some of the abilities to better fit the story so D&D players don't get mad when certain things differ from the game.
Name: Jesse McCree
Level 2: Artificer 2
Race: Mark of Making Human
Background: Witherbloom Student
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Dark Gift: Symbiote (Living Tattoo)
Experience: 430/900
HP: 19/19
Proficiency bonus: +2
Walking Speed: 30 ft
Initiative: +4
Armor Class: 16
Saving Throws: Constitution (+5) and Intelligence (+5)
Ability scores:
Strength: (+1) 13/20
Dexterity: (+4) 18/20
Constitution: (+3) 16/20
Intelligence: (+3) 16/20
Wisdom: (+2) 15/20
Charisma: (+4) 18/20
Skills (*Proficient):
+4: Acrobatics (Dex)
+2: Animal Handling (Wis))
+5: Arcana (Int)*
+1: Athletics (Str)
+4: Deception (Cha)
+3: History (Int)
+4: Insight (Wis)*
+4: Intimidation (Cha)
+5: Investigation (Int)*
+2: Medicine (Wis)
+5: Nature (Int)*
+4: Perception (Wis)*
+4: Performance (Cha)
+4: Persuasion (Cha)
+3: Religion (Int)
+4: Sleight of Hand (Dex)
+4: Stealth (Dex)
+4: Survival (Wis)*
Proficiencies:
Weapons: Simple Weapons
Armor: Light Armor, Medium Armor, Shields
Tools: Alchemy Tools, Thieves Tools, Tinker's Tools, Smith's Tools
Languages: Common, Dwarven, Elvish
Spellcasting:
Modifier: +3
Spell Attack: +6
Save DC: 14
Cantrips:
Mending
Guidance
Sword Burst
Chill Touch
Spare the Dying
1st Level Spells (2/2 slots):
*Alarm
*Cure Wounds
*Expeditious Retreat
*Purify Food and Drink
Silvery barbs (Once per Long Rest)
2nd Level Spells (0 slots)
Magic Weapon (Once per Long Rest)
Artificer Infusions (*in use):
*Prosthetic Limb
Repeating Weapon
Bag of Holding
*1st level Spellwrought Tattoo