Chapter 1 Remake: The beginning
AN: I rewrote the begginning. It sounds better now right? Might rewrite chapter 2. MIGHT.
The heavy boots the white robed man wore kept making a loud thump as he approached another man, tilting on a bar stool, blissfully unaware of the fact that the world exists. The famous mercenary who took just about any job in the world, clad fully in black, enjoying a scotch on the rocks and trying to fake a happy face. The man was known as the "Black Tiger", and his proper name was Kuro Nashuro Vangard.
Kuro was one of the most popular people in the town, and he looked simple enough. A black straw hat, a long robe that was rumored to fend off the harsh cold, yet keep him less than warm in summer, thick leather boots, cotton pants, and a shirt laced with silver rune markings, also rumored to be of magical properities. They were said to enhance his stealth and maneuvering, though it has not been proven because of the two grey cat ears protuding out of his head, along with his tail (but he kept that stuffed in his pants.)
Out of his silver hair was the only visible truth to the rumor of his heritage. He was a cat demon, and his agility and acrobatics, coupled with his incredible magic prowess in both white and black magic, made him insanely versatile. But he was one of the rare few Battlemages in that particular town, and they were always known for their amazing skills with the blade and the magic. Kuro was also a little more than that.
His dual pistols were modified Berettas. They were kept in side holsters, inside his cloak, and they were his best friends. They had a large clip size of 20, incredible accuracy, and the bullets, no matter what quality, could somehow pierce almost anything. He was surrounded by rumors, and this one held the fact that it carried his demon blood in it, and it gave the bullets a supernatural power to do what they do. And whenever they asked, Kuro just shrugged and said "maybe."
He also kept a Winchester riffle in a back holster. The handle was of plain old metal, and the grip was ivory. the barrel, on the other hand, was of the metal mithril. It was also accurate, and the bullets were stronger rather than sharper. Nothing unusual about it, but people say that the gun was just as strong as a 12 gauge shotgun, except this gun could hit a target 100 yards away and send it flying. The way he fired it though, he was surprised nobody made a rumor about it never needing it to be reloaded after each shot.
Last but not least was a rapier. It was silver, but nothing special about it either. It was just a blade, nothing more and nothing less. He swung it very well though, and it was just as valued as his guns. But compared to all his guns, swords, and an amazingly spry body, his most noticed feature was his magic. Nobody ever questioned his magic, because anything was possible. But people respected his; it was a force beyond reckoning.
The man had jet black eyes, and they seemed like black holes, sucking in his surroundings. He approached Kuro, and his ears perked up. "What do you want, stranger? It's been a slow month for jobs. You have one that I might find interesting?" He said, with a hint of hope in his voice. He longed for a good fight, and he'd been restless the night before. The man's face was hidden with a cowl, but he handed Kuro some money, a peice of fabric, and a map with a big red circle on it.
"Smell out the person. Find the person. Kill the person." Kuro looked at the money. It was a modest fee, but not great. "Can you tell me anything else?" Kuro inquired. "Blue eyes, and hair that seems a mix of both dark blue and black." Kuro gave the man an odd look. He was shifty at best, and decided to take this mission with a sense of caution for the target. Something was off from the start, and after finishing his drink, he strolled out of the bar while the man sat down and ordered a drink of his own.
After examining the map, he had to go north toward a clearing of trees...and a cave. "Please not the cave. PLEASE not the cave..." He groaned. With his luck, it'd be the cave. "God damn it." He shrugged his shoulders, cracked his neck, and said nonchalantly, "Eh. It's a living." and slowly walked out of town.
The man in the bar, wore an evil smile behind his cowl.