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Jaune woke up to warm sunlight, the smell of a fire, and the familiar combo of an aching throat, sensitive eyes and a gently throbbing headache. It faded quickly enough when he focused on it, working his Aura through his throat and head to ease the aching it could deal with there. But, somehow, it all felt nostalgic enough he almost appreciated it. Rolling over, he stared up through the leaves for a while, just… Thinking, and watching the sky.

“You seem well.” Duncan rumbled as his shadow passed over Jaune and he knelt, holding out a small bowl of stew. “You slept far longer than most Initiates, but… You did not die.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, sitting up and shrugging. “Evidently not.”

“And yet, somehow, you sound… Oddly unhappy.”

“Nah.” He grunted, turning to face the fire and taking the bowl. “Just… You know, waking up. Throat’s sore.”

“I see…” Duncan hummed, standing and pacing around to the other end of the fire he’d built. Sitting, he spooned some of the stew out of it and went on. “That, at least, is normal for an Initiate. The drink is not for the faint of heart, and plays havoc with the body. You, though, seemed… Far more alright than most. Presuming that is your only after-effect?”

“Bit of a headache.” He shrugged, “But Aura is working on that.”

“Ah…” Duncan frowned thoughtfully, and Jaune raised an eyebrow. Quietly, he said, “More and more, I find that you do not fit. There was your shield’s queer abilities, in the battle yesterday. Then the way that Darkspawn strike simply bounced off of you, bare head or no. And now? You bounce back from the Joining with but a headache and a scratchy throat.”

“I mean…” He shrugged, “Yeah? Is that strange?”

“I would not have believed it had I not seen it.” He frowned, “This is shockingly not something that seems to have surprised you, however.”

“I mean… I’ve always been fairly sturdy.”

“No one is quite ‘an axe bounces off my naked skull’ sturdy…”

“That’s just Aura.” He shrugged again, frowning and asking, quietly, “Which… You don’t know anything about?”

“Nothing but that it can save a man having his skull caved in.” Duncan chuckled, paying him a nod and reaching down to pick a piece of meat out of the stew. Eating it, he went on, “And, perhaps, that it may ease the Joining. Though, without more of your kin to test that theory on, we shall have to leave that in the realm of the ephemeral ‘perhaps’.”

“I guess, yeah.” He took another bite to buy him a moment to think, to consider, and asked, “How… How can you not know what Aura is?” He blinked as the irony of the question struck him and frowned, and added, “And Grimm, and… Do you know Dust?”

“Only the variety that needs cleaning.”

“Yeah, I figured you would say that.” He sighed, holding up a hand and spreading his fingers about as wide as the average crystal you could buy in a store. “Crystals, lots of colors. About so big, and you can use them to do stuff like… Like make fire. Or electrify something.”

“The closest I can think of is Lyrium, but… It can not do these things.” Duncan explained, “It can enable Mages to, and aid with Enchanting objects to, but doing these things on its own? No.”

“Mages…?”

“Something you lack where you come from?” Jaune nodded and Duncan hummed, scratching at his beard as he leaned forward and asked. “Are you done eating?”

“I guess, yeah…” He grunted, tossing back the last bits of vegetables and tough meat and setting the bowl aside. “Why?”

“We mustn’t tarry, even as desperate as I am for answers.” Duncan explained, tipping the dregs of broth and bits of vegetables into the fire to kill it and setting the iron pot aside. Standing, he said, “You could very well change everything the Grey Wardens know about the Joining, and how to undertake it. But, for now, we must hurry to Ostagar and the King’s army gathering there. The Darkspawn are not going to slow down on our account.”

“Right.” He nodded, standing and straightening his armor. “What about the pot and-”

“We’re not carrying them.” Duncan cut him off, “I… Took them, and the food, from the village while you slept. But I am not interested in carrying a heavy iron pot and bowls with us.”

“Ah.” He nodded, “Makes sense. Uh, lead the way?”

“And while we walk,” Duncan smirked, “keep talking, would you?”

They ended up walking through the day, and Jaune spent most of it answering questions. At first, about Dust, to sate Duncan’s curiosity - and Jaune’s - and ensure they were both certain it was most likely not a type of Lyrium. Which was fairly easy since, as far as Jaune could say, Lyrium didn’t exist anywhere on Remnant he’d been. And that was based on description of how it was used, not what it looked like or how you got it, or how you processed it.

Because that… Actually made them reconsider Dust and Lyrium being the same thing, except that Lyrium could be ingested in a liquid.

Which…

“Not a good idea.” Jaune shook his head, “I’ve only known one guy that could handle straight Dust in his system, and that was… More just ignoring his body not liking it rather than him handling it.”

“Oh?”

“Aura.” He shrugged, going on when Duncan nodded and waved for him to, ducking under a limb on the winding, gnarled path they were following. Holding it aside for him, he listened while Jaune explained, “Okay, so… I need, and I do mean need, you to understand I’m not an expert on Aurs. For that, you’d want my friend Ren. But he… He didn’t…”

Fall. But Jaune couldn’t push himself to say that, with what he was slowly coming to dread ‘falling’ meant now.

“He is not here.” Duncan nodded understandingly, seemingly as aware, as ever, of the distress Jaune was in. And he wasn’t ashamed to call it that.

He was very distressed right now.

“Right… Yeah, he’s not, so…” Jaune nodded and sighed, “The short, simple version is that it’s… Essentially our souls.”

“Your… Soul?”

“So they tell me.” And, honestly, he believed it. He’d learned too much about the Gods, and the Relics, and Ozpin - or Oscar, or Ozma, he honestly didn’t know - to begin to argue against souls existing. Shrugging all of that off, he went on, “With training, and a lot of luck on having enough to do something, I guess, we can… Project it, to protect ourselves.”

“Like when you were struck…”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“Yeah.” He nodded, “If you’re good enough, you can even use it to catch stuff. Or fight the temperature.”

“I would accuse you of jest, but you don’t seem the type…” Duncan sighed, shaking his head as they made their way. “I have no other explanation of your resilience. At least, until we reach Alistair.”

“Alistair?” Jaune raised an eyebrow, thinking to their talk as they’d walked. “Another Warden, yeah?”

“My direct, and aside from you only, subordinate in Ferelden, yes.” Duncan nodded, “He was once a Templar. A… Sort of minder, for mages. They are trained to detect magic, as part and parcel of their duties. So, if you are using some form of it, then he will be able to tell.”

“You think I’m lying, then?”

“Not at all.” Duncan shook his head, “I think we do not know the truth of the matter. And Alistair can give us another piece. As things stand, however, short of you falling through the Fade itself, I cannot fathom how you came to be so far from home.”

“Yeah…” Jaune hummed, coming to a stop in the path, one hand on a tree he’d been about to use to pull himself up, over a little sort of ridge formed up by roots and dirt that cut through the weathered path. Duncan sensed his stopping and turned, raising an eyebrow in question. “I… Did fall, Duncan. And not from somewhere that was actually, uh, in the world.”

“You mean the Fade…?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, “We were… Trying to get away. From an evil man, and the evil woman I mentioned before. The one who forced me to… To…” He took a breath and shook it off and pushed past it, “It was a sort of in-between place, made by what’s known as… As a Relic. Left over by the Gods.”

“Or so they say?”

“No.” Jaune shook his head and looked up to meet Duncan’s eyes. “I’ve seen them. Seen their handiwork. This is no matter of faith and ideas. It’s facts, for us.”

“I see…” Duncan frowned, seemingly weighing his words again as they stared each other down. Finally, he nodded and turned away. “And you… Fell from this ‘in between place’?”

“I did, yeah.” He nodded, “Into the darkness. The Relic said not to fall, according to my friends. He didn’t say why, but…”

“But that brings you here.” Duncan nodded, running his fingers through his beard while he thought. Finally, he turned and moved on, leaving Jaune to follow him while he spoke, “There is no proving that, I’m afraid, Huntsman. So earn my trust and have me believe you through that.”

“That… Sounds like a plan?”

“For now,” he hummed, “let me tell you what Darkspawn are, and what to expect from them.”

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Ostagar was… Well, Duncan had told him that it was an old, old fortress built to defend against attacks from the Wilds. And, in its heyday, Jaune was certain it would have done the job perfectly. It was huge, seemingly built partially into and out of a hill, with what had once been tall towers and long, powerful raised roads leading out from massive walls, all built out of dull grey stone. He could only imagine looking up at a fortress like that and knowing he’d be safe behind its walls - or that he’d have to try and take them, somehow, fighting across the two bridges between the tall hills to either side of the huge dips in the hilly land.

Now, though…

Otagar had more than just fallen from grace. Huge swathes of its towering stone walls had collapsed completely, taking a huge chunk of the fortress with it and leaving a long ramp of rubble, dirt that had collected over the years, and sparse trees and shrubs. And the forest had grown so close around it over the apparent decades that attackers would, he was sure, be able to sneak right up to the fortress to launch whatever attack they wanted.

Whoever was leading the defence, apparently, had seen it too, because the trees had been freshly cut back a dozen yards or so. The fresh timber had been cleaned and was being used to build palisades along the inside of the fortress, where the land was still standing under the walls, and along a defensive line on the hill itself. They passed workers still getting everything done, and he could see more down the steep hill, further South, where they were digging shallow trenches and plotting out points for whatever else they were planning to do.

“Ostagar has seen better days…” He grunted as they walked, looking down at the woods. “All our eggs in the ‘they’re coming from that way’ basket?”

“It is our weakest defense point.” Duncan explained, “The Darkspawn have a ruthless intelligence, one not to be underestimated, but it is a low one. They will take the path with the least resistance. Even if they do not, they can only easily assail the forces here from either of the two bridges between the ridges, where their numbers will do them no credit.”

“Makes sense…” Whatever Jaune was going to say next was cut off as a half dozen soldiers in huge, heavy suits of silver-colored armor. They carried tall, metal shields and had swords on their waist, but Jaune’s attention was drawn by the smiling man in the middle, dressed in golden armor with his head bare.

“Duncan!” The man beamed, spreading his arms out wide as the soldiers moved around them all, watching the woods warily. Protectively.

“Your Highness.” Duncan nodded, bowing at the waist and straightening before Jaune could think to copy. “It is my pleasure to introduce my newest recruit, Jaune Arc, the Huntsman. Jaune, meet King Cailan, sovereign of Ferelden.”

“A hunter that wears armor?” The man chuckled, “I see why the Wardens would want you.”

“Monster hunter, Highness.” Duncan corrected him gently, earning a pair of raised brows and an impressed whistle from the apparent king.

“I see. Even better!” He smiled, turning and actually offering Jaune his hand. He hesitated a moment to flick Duncan a look, but the man just nodded curtly, so Jaune took it and accepted the handshake nervously. “Do you hail from Ferelden?”

“No I, uh…. Come from very far away, actually.”

“Ah, that expaines the different armor. Orlais perhaps?”

“Uh… Further?” He tried, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly as the king backed away. “It’s a, uh, long, complicated story, I’m afraid. And we have other stuff going on, you know?”

“You do speak like a foreigner.” The king chuckled, shaking his head and smiling as another man, flanked by a pair of armored women, came to meet them. “Ah! Warden Commander, Huntsman, do meet my Queen’s father Loghain.”

“Another Warden?” The older man rumbled, frowning deeply in a familiar way. A way that reminded him of the General, almost. Shaking his head, he turned to the King and ignored them all, instead arguing with him, “My King, our forces are arranging as you demand, but I must protest-”

“Noted and dismissed.” The King snapped with a tone that told Jaune this wasn’t the first time that the argument had come up. Turning to him, the King said, “This discussion has been had and ended more times over the last week than we’ve had meals, it seems like, dear father. We have more important matters to attend to than your questioning of my authority.”

“As you say.” The man growled, turning and storming off with his guards - or assistants, he supposed, since one rushed to speak with him - flanking him.

“Forgive the… That.” The King sighed, turning back to the two of them and offering them a small, warm smile. “Loghain is… Wise, but stubborn. And believes that Anora’s doting on him means that he can… Ah, forgive me, but I’m rambling.”

“Of course, Highness.”

“Uh, yeah.” Jaune nodded, “No big deal.”

“Indeed…” The King hummed, clearly confused by Jaune’s phrase. But, after a moment, he simply said, “Well, it is good to have you both here, my friends. With the Blight coming to meet us, we’ll need every Warden we can get.”

“Indeed.” Duncan nodded, “To that end… I believe my second is already here, yes?”

“He is.” Cailan nodded, “You can find him in the Templar encampment within the walls, such as they are. I believe he is imparting information from a book of yours about the differences in magic wielded by the Darkspawn.”

“Useful.” Duncan nodded, “Templars are adept anti-magic warriors, and having them informed on Darkspawn talents can only make them even better at this duty.”

“Indeed.” The King nodded, turning and leaving without much more than an announcement for his guards, who turned to follow him without a word.

“He’s… Interesting.” Jaune grunted once the King was safely out of ‘execute that man for smarm’ range. Duncan hummed and nodded, but only waved for Jaune to follow him.

Which he did, passing through the mostly assembled wooden gate and into the relatively open ground inside the wall, where rubble had been pushed aside or piled up in rudimentary walls to make areas for work. Instead of leading him to any ‘Templars’, though, Duncan instead took him into a moderately large area surrounded on all sides by rubble-walls. There were half a dozen men and woman working at anvils, forges, and tables to mend and fit metal plates, mail and swords. And Jaune turned to give Duncan a confused look as he turned to him and smiled.

“War is coming, Huntsman.” Duncan said simply, “And I fear you will need more than a half of a broken blade to fight it.”

“Ah.” Jaune murmured, a strange sort of dread creeping up into his chest. “Right…”

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Evil Statistic :

Yeah, it sucks. But sometimes it happens. And yeah, I haz plans for Jaune and being a Warden.

Leonhardt :

Jaune, in this, I decided would take the place - sort of, and you’ll see what I mean as things go - of the Player Character.

Nineyetis :

Yeah, FF has been having… Issues.

The Sly Sage :

I liked it, too. But I just got way too much hate and, like, genuine harassment to continue for now. Apologies.

I Forgot My Name :

Glad you liked it!

Augustus Arc :

I didn’t wanna axe Titan but I was getting harassment and heckling constantly while it was being updated. I just ain’t here for that noise, you know? Lol. So, here we are with this instead. Hope it suffices as a worthy replacement!

General Sparda :

My dude, a tired, depressed guy with half a sword basically one on one’d four guys with Duncan supporting at the end and took… A single blow serious blow.

Also, aside from Semblances and durability, yes. Most Hunters are, in fact, MOSTLY just very fit, very skilled Humans. Some use their abilities - Ruby, for instance - to bolster beyond this in certain respects but, for instance, if a strong, normal dude tried to, he’d overpower Ruby. This, in fact, LITERALLY happens when two White Fang grunts can beat her down because she’s unarmed in Mountain Glenn.

If Ruby can lose to characters more or less literally dubbed ‘Grunts’ Jaune can get thwacked by a Hurlock. Which, fun fact, Hurlocks are ALSO about as strong as peak humans in Dragon Age. Genlocks are a bit weaker, but Hurlocks can dent metal and rip off limbs relatively easily if they try.

Funnily, most of the Hunters we’ve met would actually fare BETTER against things like dragons than they would Darkspawn. They’re more trained to fight giant monsters, and some like Ruby have weapons that help in it more than against people.

Addendum : Do recall that Jaune is also not the BEST Hunter. Pyrrha, for instance, wouldn’t have so much as had the blood hit her, and would have had them all down in seconds. She’s prodigal lmao Jaune ain’t Pyrrha. Or Yang, or Ren, or anyone else. His skills have always been in quick thinking, decent planning, and solid insight, not straight fighting. Judging him by the best Hunters can do in their best moments is like judging Krillin for not literally being Goku.

Not trying to be rude, here, and I hope you understand that, but that’s just a thing lol.