( A/N 1: Ok, a few things before I start, I want to say a few things.
First, I'm sorry about any misspelling, poor grammar, and bad word choice, I'm still figuring out what I'm best at as a writer.
Second, if you see me write anything for any character that is on the cast wrong, I'm sorry, I'm not very good outside with making good use of characters.
Finally three, please let me know how I can improve my writing, that would make anything I write later, which is a definite thing, better.
Ok with that out of the way let me tell you what I want this to be, a prologue, simple as that. The start of a series of writings that i, with the help of the OCs of my friends, wish to make, specifically the prologue of my OC, Nicholas Cordero, a swordsman thief who becomes a type of bruiser fighter, and how he become the person he is when I get to the story proper. He is gonna sound a lot different when you ever see him again, so please don't judge him too harshly now. Ok that's enough for now, let's get to the story.)
(A/N 2: this story is available, along with a full series at follow this link /series/110285 for the whole series, so far thank you)
Night. I always loved nights. Never quite sure why. Maybe it was the way the darkness shrouded the world, making it seem less insane. Maybe it was the quiet the seemed to always follow, only broken by the sound of a cricket or passing owl. Maybe it was the chill that was always there, even in the hottest of summers, a chill that I used to wear my sweaters and jeans. Or maybe it was the way my choice of battle dress worked with night, making my line of work that much easier. "Yeah, that's definitely it." I said with a chuckle, thinking aloud as I walked through the streets towards the warehouse district of Vytal. As one of the best thieves in Remnett, I'm occasionally hired, usually by an eccentric rich person, to steal objects that they wanted from others. Sometimes others would hire me, provided they could pay my fee, to steal information from secure sites, such as government buildings. These were jobs that I had to be careful with, as choosing the wrong one could cause pain to innocents. Shaking my head at the thought under my hood, I found my way to the target structure. Moving to a nearby alleyway to climb to a close rooftop, I do a quick once over for my plan. Step one, check the guard patterns, which I had done for the last week, so that was done. Step two, gain entry, which was accomplished by a trusty wind dust enhanced grapnel launcher that I have had for about six years now. Reaching around to pull over my bag to check the map and the intel the client had given me about my target. A small crystal idol, judging by the picture provided, it appeared to be made of inert Dust, specifically fire, which struck me as odd as fire was the least controllable of the elements. My use dust tends to favor it alongside wind, both of which I used with my sembalence, creating small explosions to either boost me in combat or enhance my attacks, though the latter is generally too weak to be effective, as I would need to keep heavy dust containers on my wrists to make it effective. Continuing with my plan to step three, tracking down the damn thing, which wasn't hard, as the picture had the container number written on the back. Step four was escape, as I try to keep my plans simple in case the shit hits the fan. Arming the launcher and securing the rope to a nearby fire escape, I fire the hook towards the roof, embedding within it. After a quick slide down and a sneak across the thin roof, I open a skylight and lower myself to the warehouse floor. Or I would, if I hadn't notice the small army of AK-130s arrayed in the building. Silently cursing my luck, I pull back up, stopping just long enough to check the nearest boxes, finding that I was rather far from my goal. Using inference and the map, I find a skylight that was near where the box was in the building. This time, after carefully checking to see if the security lasers were low enough to let me through, i lowered myself down carefully, till I was just within reach of the crate. Pulling Bloodthirst, my trusty sword that I found on my first real job, I brought it over to the edge between the sections of the box. Wedging the heavy head into it, I quickly opened and retrieved my objective. Taking a second to place it within my bag, I was about to pull back up when I noticed a nail from another box, a box that had been removed ages ago, just seem to fall off from a nearby shelf, possibly from the way I was pushing the air with my body. I prayed to the Great Oum himself but this time it seemed my luck had run out. It passed right through one of the lasers I had tried to avoid. With a loud "FUCK" as the bots activated, I brought my blade around me, slicing through the ropes like butter. Landing on my feet in a shallow crouch I heard the words I was dreading "Intruder detected, state your identity." With a loud fuck off, I swang the blade, quickly cleaving through its body, as I drew my other weapon, Harbinger, my pistol, quick-drawing it and blasting two other bots that blocked my exit. "There my identity, you fucking pricks" I yelled as I ran to a wall that I knew had to be near the street. As I was about to slice through I heard the unmistakable windup of several guns that had sprouted from the hands of the bots. Quickly spinning my heavy sword to block the plentiful rounds as I aimed Harbinger at one of the attacking machines and fired around my blade, destroying the head of my target. With that one disabled, I was able to line up several more shots at the bastards, quickly reducing my attackers to scrap. However while I was distracted with the gunners, several others closed in on my with blades. Laughing at the suicidal (if they were people) charge of the machines as I quickly chopped them to bits "IS THIS THE BEST YOU CAN MAKE, YOU SCHNEE BASTARDS".as if goaded by the challenge, that was when the spider mech decided to activate, crashing through the walls. "FUCK" yelling the curse as if that would convince the nigh invulnerable mech, I ducked and ran towards its legs, where I knew I could avoid its main guns. It seemed to notice this and scuttled on its thick metal legs backwards as its fired its massive dust blasters. Firing a cylinder from my boots' dust containers to boost my douge, just barely avoiding the blastes. I knew I couldn't take the blasted thing in a stand up fight, so I did the only thing I could, change tactics. I noticed that the not had backed up to avoid me hiding between its legs, but what it missed was that behind it was a wall, and then I notice that the shots that missed me had broken several other crates with in the warehouse, revealing, from an assortment of useless mundane crap, a surprising number of dust crystals, presumably to be sold to local shops to stock their shelves, and hand bags, which I quickly grabbed three of along with as much dust as possible, finding several powder containers as well, which I emptied into the bags, all while dodging rapid shots from the dust busters. Taking my makeshift satchel charges, I tried to get as close as I could to the thing without it backing out, rolling and jumping, inching my way till I was about enter its lowest angle of depression. When I was about as close I could get before the thing couldn't shoot at me and would have to relie on its large bulk and weight to attack me, it activated its mega cannon. "FUCKING BULLSHIT FROM HELL" I cursed loudly, realizing i had literally seconds to make it the rest of the distance so I can throw my homemade bombs. Running with all my might, firing another cylinder of dust from my boots, I just made it inside the safe zone as the large gun fired, leaving a sizable crater right where I had been standing just a second ago. Dropping the three bomb bags into my left arm, I began to spin them, hoping that the dust doesn't ignite until it hits the mech, quickly releasing it so that all three bags slam into the mech, exploding in large balls of multicolored dust. Breathing a sigh of relief, I heard the unmistakable sound of the police coming. Checking my bag to ensure that my objective was still there and safe, which it was, I ran off into the night, the fight with the mech have destroyed what little evidence I left.
Making my way to the exchange site, another warehouse, this time near the harbor. I had called the client to say that I had the package and that I was bringing it to them, though not in those words. As I neared the site I saw a limo parked nearby, along with several black and red suited men, each carrying the staple weapons of low level thugs, swords, axes, and, the lucky ones, smgs. Again, the oddity of the job struck me, concern building up in my head. Producing my calmest face, the thugs showed me inside, where a man with a white jacket and a black cane with a red handle and bottom, adorned with what I assumed was his personal symbol, greeted me, in an fairly flamboyant matter. The scene itself was a blur, my mind focused more on escape paths and weaponizable objects. If I had knew it would have been a meeting with one of the most dangerous man in all of Vytal, hell all of Remnett, I might of have thought twice about the job. Then, as Roman finished what appeared to be a routine, she stepped out from a back room. Now I may be 15, but even I watch the news, and I recognized the most dangerous being alive, Cinder Fall, former huntress, now wanted fugitive and terrorist. Every bone in my well built body told me to just run, though I kept still, removing the idol from my bag. She told me to place it on the table in front of her partner, slowly. Obeying, I did, stepping back afterwards. In an exaggerated way, she walked over and gently touched the idol, which began to glow. Now if my entire body hadn't been telling me to run before, it was telling me to sprint now. With a subtle laugh, she turned on me, looking as if she saw into the very core of me. That was when I noticed she smiled and the pieces of jewelry, which I recognized as dust crystals, began to glow. Without time to breath a curse, I rolled back as the floor beneath me erupted into fire, landing into a crouch, sword already in hand, snarl in my teeth. That was when Roman raised his cane. With the fastest quick-draw I have ever made, I pulled Harbinger and fired in time to intercept his shot. Knowing that it was only a matter of time before they killed me, I decided to use my remaining advantage, my ingenuity. The idol was glowing still, though faintly, the power was still dormant. It would have taken way to many shots from my gun to ignite it, so I did the only logical thing. Dodging another blast from Cinder and a shot from Roman, I rolled inbetween them, striking out with my sword, shattering the idol. That was when the world grew very, very bright.
I awoke several days later, in a hospital. Apparently they found out my name, as my father was there. "Dad, am I dead?" "No, you were just knocked out, apparently though when they recovered you, hey thought you were dead." "Where am I, anyway?" My sore throat telling me to shut up. "Vytal General, one of the best in all of Remnett." "Really, how long was I out?" "About a week, though you did wake up at times." My mind began to process this all when suddenly I noticed "Am I covered in bandages?" "Yes." His serious tone letting me know Just before I felt it, something missing from me. "Where is my arm?" I said before I began to remember what happened, remembering the positions and remembering "Was there anyone else found with me?" I had to start using my aura to reduce the pain in my throat. "What, uh no. They said you were all alone in some burned up warehouse, covered in debris from the whatever blast was there." "Damn, it was them, Dad, I met them." "Who?" Before I could continue, that was when a nurse came in, to check if my father needed anything, when she noticed I was awake, she called my doctor. A large man with a kind face, he reminded me of the old Hunter who used to frequent the bar I worked in when I couldn't get a job, Port I think his name was. He asked me what happened, after he brought me a cup of water. I told him that I was exploring the warehouses by the harbor when I saw what looked like guys from from that club, Junior's. I had sneaked up near them to see if I could hear why they were there. I was there for about a minute when behind me a large thug appeared behind me and shoved me into the building. Inside I saw what looked like a head quarters for some sort of empire. I told him, sounding like it was a kidnapping gone wrong, that I saw them, Cinder Fall and Roman Torchwick. I told him I had my sword and gun on me, and attempted to escape. When escaped proved fruitless, I used my last hope, a large pile of dust that was on a table near where they were standing. In a move that caught them off guard, I attacked the dust, in an attempt to distract them. I told him I had miscalculated my attack, as one of them had a aura shield up protect them, as they should have been two more bodies. Finishing my (false) story, he told me that though he thought I was lying, he is surprised at the damage I had survived. I told him I was lucky, my blade must have taken most of the damage (a joke that turned out to be true, though not enough, as my left arm, as I found out when I started moving again on my own, had been ripped to shreds by the blade, forcing them to amputate). I asked if there was anything left of my weapons, to which he told me, only fragments. Looking disappointed, he left me alone, and my father, tired but happy I was awake, went home.
-3 months later-
After I was released from the hospital, I decided to I wanted to quit the game. I had enough money saved to last me a while. At least that's what I decided at first. After about a month out, I started to get figgity, and cranky. Eventually, one of my old friends, a black market techie who had created that grapnel launcher of mine, told me he had a present for me and to come over. Without even the simplest explanation, I came over dealing with the stares of people as the judged for my one arm. Their stares made me want to chop them all up for judging me. I still had the fragments of Bloodthirst, I kept them on me, not sure why though, I guess in case I ever wanted to remake it. Reaching my friends workshop, he beckoned me in. With a bit of fanfare, he revealed a device that changed my life, the device I now call Hope-bringer, the Gauntlet of Strength. A fully functioning portisis arm that connected itself to me and, as I found out later, was not powered by dust but rather Aura, making room for a dust compartment that I filled with all kinds of dust. So overcome with joy that i had a new arm, one that was better then my old one and that now channel my sembalence with as well as my old boots. Deciding that this was a wake up call I decided to follow my first dream, one that I had given up on when I was young, my dream to become a Hunter. I talked to a few old friends who said they could get me into a two year combat school. Taking the opportunity, I chose Signal, due to its reputation for having the best weapon forge in all of Remnett, as well as my hero, the great Qrow.
-2 years later-
After working my ass off for these two years, I had finally been accepted into Beacon, a true dream come true. On the flight there I was the news cast discuss I series of robberies perpetrated by none other then the bastard himself, Roman. Punching the glass in my rage, I scared several student nearby. Over the past two years I had really bulked up, I couldn't really sneak anymore, most of my stealth now gone with my enlarged silhouette. While i was at Signal, I reforged my sword. In the explosion, my former white blade had turned black as midnight. Seeing this as another change for the better. Naming the blade Redemption, as to put a name to my complete change. Even Master Qrow approved, which made me feel proud. It was the beginning of my new life.