Beacon's Garou

Prologue

A/N: Well hello! First the disclaimer:

I do not own the rights to Werewolf: the Apocalypse. Nor do I own RWBY. They belong to their respective owners. I do however like them and am now attempting to do my own work combining the two. A Werewolf insert into the word of Remnant. Enjoy!

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Wyoming

They followed him. He came here for refuge and they followed him. And while they were legion, his group was not.

The knowledge was bitter ashes in his mouth as he stood at the heart of the caern with the other young pups and those others deemed too weak to fight. He was being made to carry the chest full of lore and fetishes that were not to fall into the Wyrm's hands...

The theurge was working feverishly to open the Moon Bridge, pleading with the spirits to save them. Already the bawn had fallen and the heart was threatened. The greatest of the warriors valiantly fought but loss was inevitable...

With a sound of a sigh, the opening appeared. And so too, did the cry from the Black Spirals...

"GerrrrrrrAAHHHH!!" The children near him gave in to Rage, going to Crinos to engage the Wyrmling forces. The theurge turned as well, preferring to fight rather than run and live.

In fact, only one was interested in living. After all, someone would need to warn others...and carry the stories...

He was no coward. Working with spirits of glory and bravery, he had composed the song he would sing into his final battle. It filled him with pride and joy to know he would get to sing it. Death would be welcome and honorable.

But honor now bade him flee with the treasures in the chest he was carrying. With a sob for those who would die here, he bolted into the opening just before it closed.

He only managed a few steps before the shimmering moonlight behind him cut off. The light from the bridge was just enough to see by as he lurched forward as fast as he could. The run felt like it took ages, his lungs burning and his side threatening to tear him in half. Until he reached the end...

It wasn't supposed to end, actually. In their desperation to open the bridge, they had specified no destination. So now he stood, perplexed as to what he should do...

The distant sound of an explosion sent vibrations through the Umbra. Before him, where once nothing stood, a shadowy ripple in the air and the scent of a breeze. Knowing he wouldn't get another chance to leave, he jumped in, trusting that Gaia would keep him safe...

He was still in the Penumbra. The gauntlet here was not terribly thick, he could feel. The reflection of the world was that of a castle of some sort, in front of which was a stone pathway that he found himself standing on. But the strangest thing was the spirits.

They didn't have the normal animal forms, nor were they the amorphous outlines he was used to seeing. Rather, they looked like people, and they glowed in a wide variety of colors. Just in front of him was a white one and a red one, with a black one approaching. They seemed to have a conversation of sorts before separating with only the red one remaining.

He moved over to a small copse of trees before stepping through into the normal world.

"Aren't you the guy that threw up on the ship?"