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I am posting this work here in this forum first, before I post it at Spacebattles. I would like some feedback, not on spelling, punctuation, or grammar (I have other proofreaders for that), but rather potential Cosmere related characterization and lore issues, and general plot, setting, and description. (I plan to deviate from certain explicit cosmological elements as revealed in Rhythm of War, but only because I started defining the details of the crossover shortly before the publication of Oathbringer, and the deviations from canon now are what make the crossover work. Nevertheless I wish to avoid inadvertent deviations from cosmological canon.) This is, as said, a crossover with RWBY. If you are lost as to the other side of this crossover, you can look here and here to fortify your understanding. So, without further ado, here is the first chapter Disclaimer: The Stormlight Archive, the greater Cosmere multiverse, and all related persons, places, creatures, and concepts, are the creation of Brandon Sanderson and Copyright him and Tor Books. RWBY, and all related persons, places, creatures, and concepts, are the creation of Monty Oum and copyright his legal estate, heirs, and Rooster Teeth, Limited Liability Company. The use of these copyrights in this work is not to be construed as a challenge to them, and no financial remuneration relating to this work is or shall ever be sought by the author. Life Before Death Chapter One “And these are the new and improved Dust enhancement processors. The patent came through last week! They can handle anything from standard Size Three crystals to thirty-micron grade clear powder!” The designated tour guide was positively gushing, pointing at the conveyor belt bringing in raw material: crystals and powder clear as pure water segregated by grades in discrete lanes. These things went into something that looked a little like a sandwich oven, but with analog pressure gauges, wheel actuated safety valves, and steam whistles, while colored crystals and powder on a Conveyor belt came out from it, to be packaged and packed elsewhere for wholesale and retail distribution. They were on the newest production floor of the facility, filled with the latest production model Dust refinement and enhancement equipment the SDC could get its hands on. Pipes, hoppers, conveyer belts, and industrial machines unidentifiable to the nonprofessional where everywhere, as were keypads and touchscreens at every workstation. Yet, the layout on the floor was by no means chaotic. To be sure, most of this equipment came from other Schnee Dust Company factories with dedicated production lines. Due in part to the wish of General Ironwood’s faction on the Atlas Council to maintain at least the fiction of a competitive business atmosphere, and also in part because of principles of general good diplomacy, the remainder came from electronics and machine tool companies based in Vale and Mistral. While this production floor showed far less corrosion, grime, and general wear and tear than the rest of the edifice, astute observers could speculate that its relative cleanliness was just the product of its comparative novelty. Refined, powdered Dust came in through special containers removed from trucks and container ships via crane and placed on special tap receptacles in the courtyard the factory surrounded on three sides. The Schnee Dust Company preferred to work with powdered, uncharged Dust whenever possible, as accidents involving it demanded fewer and less expensive countermeasures. Besides, this gave the Schnee Dust Company latitude to tailor its signature product to any emerging trends of usage. Unfortunately, some varieties of Dust resisted the enhancement process, while other types of Dust charges were difficult or even impossible to replicate as enhancements, so, elsewhere in the plant, nuggets of unrefined Dust ore had to be refined in a long, expensive, and often dangerous process. “I notice that the third and fourth lanes from the far end are empty,” observed the oldest-looking person in the group, with snow-white scalp hair and a salt and pepper mustache, “what happened with the Gravity Dust enhancement?” “The process itself works fine;” explained the tour guide, “it’s just that trying to make it work outside of hard vacuum conditions causes all the spare grime and process residue to clog the accumulators completely. Just papering over the problem with filters means changing them every fifteen minutes. And to do that, we’d need to shut down the entire processor and Conveyor belts, replace the filters, and cold start them all again, each quarter hour!” “I see, so, it looks like we’re going to have to stick to refining gravity Dust ore.” The old-looking man sighed, as the thirteen-year-old girl beside him with a sheathed smallsword, at the belt of her snow white and ice blue knee dress, a purse at her shoulder, and a clear family resemblance to him looked on, an expression of resigned boredom on her face as she munched on a soft pretzel. Standing between those two were four men in identical business suits, sunglasses with wires attached to what looked like hearing aids in their left ears, and pistols concealed in their inner jacket pockets. Why am I here? Weiss Schnee asked of herself, as the lead engineer of the project gave her, her father, and their bodyguards the eight-lien tour of the newest wing of the factory. It was arguably a valid question. This trip to the Schnee Dust Company’s largest production facility took her away from her fencing and music lessons, not to mention her self-directed studies into Dust Sorcery and her impromptu Saturday afternoon explorations with her sister Winter into their shared hereditary Semblance via scroll telepresence. Weiss suspected it was because her elder sister was at Atlas Academy, and her younger brother Whitley was only eight years old. Weiss sighed at the memory she had just accidently dredged up. She had been in the music room with her teacher, tuning her vowels and practicing her key scales. The argument in the room over on the third floor of the Schnee Mansion had started slowly, muffled. When she started rehearsal on the first lines of “Echoes in the Cave Spring,” the volume began increasing, but Weiss could only discern about one word per sentence. By the time she and her teacher had moved on to Weiss’ first original composition, “Mirror, Mirror,” it had been getting difficult for either one in the music room to hear each other, or for that matter, her respective self, think. The argument in the adjoining room ended with the sound of the door in the neighboring room opening and slamming closed, and then Weiss and Winter’s mutual father Jacques Schnee, née Gelée coming into the music room, visibly forcing himself to calm down, and dismissing Weiss’ teacher from the session for that day. Weiss never asked either her father or her elder sister what had happened that day and she wasn’t certain she would have actually wanted to know the answer. “Moving on to the next room, Mr. Schnee,” the tour guide ushering the two and their retinue of bodyguards out of that room and two doors down the facility hallway to a much smaller, more intimate space that looked more laboratory than production area, “this is something I’m sure you’ll love.” “What is it?” Asked Mr. Schnee, the tone of his voice suggesting suspicion. Four men in black pants and ties and white button-down shirts were monitoring keyboards and cathode ray tube screens on a large console. Behind that console was a large window to a lit room slightly smaller than the room the tour guide and his small crowd had entered, with no obvious ingress or egress. “Well, you know how certain huntsmen’s and huntress’ Semblances grant them the ability to create portals to travel between two places without crossing the intervening space?” The tour guide’s smile widened and deepened with every word. Mr. Schnee’s eyes widened almost cartoonishly. “You mean you’ve managed to replicate the ability? How?” His question almost dripped awe. “It’s technical, and releasing the full report outside the working group will require the standard retinal, thumbprint, voice, and blood scans, but in pertinent part, the reaction involves sufficient quantities and proper proportions of Gravity and Lightning Dust.” The tour guide’s face shone with pride. “Insufficient Dust quantities for the size of the portal results in a gateway to somewhere weird, like a twilight desert of uncharged, inert Dust. You know, like what happens when you try to send Dust into outer space. Too much gravity Dust in the mix, meanwhile, causes an attractive reaction that draws things towards and through the portal, wherever it goes.” Jacques Schnee whistled in astonishment, and even his daughter nearly choked on the last of her soft pretzel. Assuming the dust quantities involved weren’t absolutely prohibitive, it could completely tip the balance of power in favor of the SDC and the Kingdom of Atlas as a whole. However, there had to be a catch. “I assume there are other drawbacks.” Jacques Schnee’s comment was a leading one. “Yes…” Just as the tour guide was about to explain whatever caveats where inherent in the system, the lights dimmed red and the alarm klaxon sounded. “Oh, &^($,” said one of the people at the consoles, causing Weiss to blanch even whiter than her usual skin color. “Not in front of my daughter,” Jacques Schnee barked. “That’s no pay for you today!” Suddenly, all monitors in the room activated, showing a bull Faunus in a Grimm half-mask covering his eyes and the bridge of his nose, and with fire-red hair and hornlets. “Ladies and gentlemen of the Schnee Dust Company, using those terms in the loosest sense possible,” the Faunus’ voice rang out, “For the crime of daring to speak out on behalf of his people, the Schnee Dust Company Security placed the leader of the White Fang under arrest despite having broken no laws of the Kingdom of Atlas or any other. But for my intervention and that of my band of heroes, he would have experienced martyrdom in a gas chamber. “As no reasonable being could construe Ghira Belladonna’s capture and treatment as an act of law, it can only be an act of war.” As the Faunus continued speaking, a numerical countdown began. “So, to mark a shift in the methods of the White Fang, here is the official second act of this war. Have a nice day. Ladies and Gentlemen of the Schnee Dust Company...” the audio and video of the production was looping before someone managed to cut the former, but the countdown continued. It was already at the one minute and thirty second mark. “Everyone, evacuate! This is a Class Five Emergency! Go to your designated exits in an orderly fashion. Everyone, evacuate! This is a Class Five Emergency! Go to your designated exits in an orderly fashion.” As the emergency warning continued over the intercom, three of the bodyguards whisked the senior Schnee out of the door, while the fourth tried to wade upstream against the crowd of evacuees to reach Weiss, and failed. Having been standing the farthest away of anyone from the only door in and out of this experiment room, Weiss was deeply regretting having worn high heels on this excursion, despite both of her parents’ request that she put on something semi-formal. She was only three steps to the door when something, probably a loose nut, caused her to trip on her pumps, making her fall. By the time she got up, the door had slammed shut, and the locking mechanism chunked home. “Let me out! Let me out!” Weiss slammed her purse on the door, making thumping noises but otherwise achieving nothing of substance. She toyed with drawing Myrtenaster and using burst Dust to blast her way out, but realized there were too many variables to work out. With the timer on all the monitors running down to thirty seconds, Weiss Schnee inhaled, exhaled, and centered herself. Somehow, she would find a way to live and face that masked Faunus. 10, 9, 8, Decision made, Weiss Schnee flared her Aura. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and everything went white! I will post Chapter Two tomorrow, but for now, I'd really like some feedback.

Hey, writers of the Shard. I've got a first draft of a chapter I'd like y'all to beta read. It's a continuation, of sorts, of a slightly-dead fanfic called For Those We Cherish that explores what would happen if Warhammer 40k met RWBY. First drafts are always terrible, so don't try to spare my feelings. Please let me know if you have any questions. And yes, it is a fanfiction of a fanfiction. No, I don't care if you judge me. Shove off.

I think we should settle this with a pole, just know anyone that votes Rosegarden will be labeled as a heretic and incur the rath of voidus

The few basic points are this: -God of Darkness is Ruin, God of Light is Preservation -Humans on Remnant have much more of Preservation's Investiture than in the Scadrial timeline of the planet, which they can use to Preserve themselves and for unique effect based on their spiritweb. They still have to Snap, however, as there is a bit of Ruin in them still -Ozpin is an extremely powerful Cognitive Shadow -Salem is a Splinter of Ruin -The pools outside of Salem's fortress are Shardpools of Ruin -Grimm are just creatures that have been Invested by Ruin and/or hemalurgically modified -The Relics are really just items similar to the sphere the Ire had, which allow you to Connect to Preservation's power more fully

I'm kind of stunned at the lack of discussion of the anime-inspired animated series by Rooster Teeth known as RWBY. The story, fights, characters, WEAPONS, and everything are so enthralling that I've nearly annoyed all of my fellow fans in school to ignoring me until a new episode comes out. So, to right this, Come all fans and those intrigued, please watch, it's really good! I'd love to discuss theories, reactions, thoughts on certain characters/weapons/episodes, etc.