It was already time for supper at the Sleeping Dragon Inn. Located at the heart of the Hibiki Clan's territory, this inn was popular in all of Orient. People from all walks of life would flock to this inn, especially around this time. But it was not for the booze nor the ambience, not even because of the prices (although it was affordable for most). The real reason was that this inn was frequented by many storytellers. Parents would even bring their own children to this place. To them, it was a form of family bonding. After all, what better way to make a child's imagination more vivid than to fill their heads with stories?

Tonight's storyteller was an old man who was fairly short. He had a long white beard and a crooked nose. Though he was balding and was filled with wrinkles, it didn't stop him from being all smiles. Funny enough at another corner of the room, there was a man who was the exact opposite. He was a lone warrior with a messy ponytail and shaved facial hair. He had a muscular frame and a handsome face, but you wouldn't be able to tell because he was always scowling. He wore a cone shaped straw hat to hide his face and his clothes were tattered from his many battles (though they still looked decent enough not to be called rags). He was clutching an object wrapped in a blanket, but it wouldn't take a genius to realize that it was a katana. As the old man beckoned the children to come to him, the warrior groaned.

So much for some goddamn peace and quiet.

"Gather around children," the old storyteller smiled. "I have a special tale for tonight."

The children cheered, playfully shoving each other to be in the front row much to warrior's annoyance. After giving a respectful bow to the inn's patrons, the old man began:

"Hundreds of years ago, there was once a proud clan that ruled all over our land of Orient. This was the Okami Shishen clan, 'wolf-eyes' the people called them. The name came from the fact that their leader was a kitsune mage they called Grandmaster Ina. The kitsune of course is the famous nine-tailed fox, with the ability to shapeshift into anyone at a moment's notice. And they often took the appearance of beautiful women."

The lone warrior rolled his eyes as the old storyteller winked at the men after making that comment.

"Boy was she gorgeous," the old man continued. "As beautiful as she was powerful. After all, she mastered the elements. Legend has it that she grew a tail every time she learned an element. Eventually the nine-tailed Ina was revered as a goddess."

"What elements did she master grandpa?" a child asked curiously.

"Why there's a poem for that," the old man grinned. "It goes like this:"

"On her palms danced the flickering flames
Rivers and oceans, she could tame
She can call upon the roaring thunder
Or wake the earth from its slumber
Every beast in every forest
Every gentle breeze or mighty tempest
Even the heavens, the moon and the sun
Dare not defy the Nine Tailed one"

"Lady Grandmaster is super powerful!" another child chimed gleefully.

"She was indeed," the old man nodded as he continued his story. "But despite all that, the Grandmaster chose to lead her clan in serving the people rather than dominating them. She led by example, teaching people to be kind and compassionate. The people loved her for that, and she too loved the people. This led her to mentor four disciples that she hoped would continue her ambition when she was gone. They too became kitsune. One disciple was a master warrior, capable of deflecting all blows as if time itself slowed around him. Another can sing in a voice so sweet that it can hypnotize anyone to fight for her cause. The third disciple was a master of the dark arts, casting powerful curses to afflict anyone who crosses him. The most dangerous, perhaps, was the fourth disciple. He had the power to possess anyone, living or dead."

"Mommy I'm scared!" a little boy cried as he ran to his mother's arms, making her chuckle.

The old man took another sip of his jug of sake. They children innocently thought he was just clearing his throat with juice. After gulping down the alcohol, the old man continued:

"Alas it was not meant to be. Perhaps she was some divine being sent by the gods, because her disciples were nothing like her. These four boys craved power. They questioned their master's ideals, believing that with such power the people should be serving them, not the other way around. The disciples banded together to form a rebellion, hoping to overthrow the Grandmaster. This split the Okami Shisen clan into two rival factions. The Zenko was comprised of those who were still loyal to the Grandmaster; while the Yako was comprised of the army raised by the four disciples. This led to a bloody civil war that lasted for centuries."

"Who won the war grandpa?" a little girl asked curiously.

"It's hard to say," the old man replied. "For one, the Zenko had the upper hand for most of the war. But during the decisive battle, Grandmaster Ina could not bear to hurt her disciples. She considered them her own children, so she pulled her punches. This resulted in the four disciples overpowering her, leaving her mortally wounded."

The children gasped. Some even cried. The old man continued his tale.

"As she lay there dying, she cast a curse on her disciples, saying that unless they let go of their lust for power, they will only end up destroying themselves. With her last breath, she transferred her essence into nine magical weapons that she scattered all across the land. The disciples never found these weapons, for it was Ina's intention that only her chosen avatars would find them and one day use these weapons to slay the pupils who betrayed her. These avatars are what we know today as the Hunters."

The old man knew that the children were going to ask just who were the Hunters, so he went on with his story. Before he did however, he looked at the lone warrior sitting at the corner once more. The warrior gave him an annoyed look before turning his back and walking towards the bartender to ask for another jug of rice wine.

"Now the Hunters are a special collection of warriors. With the magical weapons in hand, they can call upon the very elements that the great Ina once commanded. Some say that after they've touched a weapon for the first time, these Hunters gain the ability to use the weapon's element remotely. To help the Hunters their destinies, Ina also blessed them with the ability to identify a kitsune regardless of what form they shapeshift into. That's not all. Legend has it that these incredible warriors even had the ability to take on an entire army by themselves."

The warrior from earlier overheard this statement and snorted. The old man, however, seemed unfazed as he continued:

"Ina's curse came true. The four Yako disciples could not come to an agreement as to who should rule all of Orient. Disgusted that they proved their master right, the disciple who can possess decided to part ways with his companions, never to be seen again. The remaining three each decided to join up with rival daimyos, each realizing that they could use the destiny of the Hunters to their advantage. After all these shoguns each had a Hunter as their prized warrior. By promising their respective shogun absolute power over all the land, they gain the immunity that they need to survive the wrath of the Hunters. Imagine, going as far as to betray their fellow Yako brothers as well for the sake of their own survival. How far they've fallen..."

There was a commotion outside that forced the old man's voice to trail off. Just then, four guards burst into the room causing the customers at the inn to disperse. They scanned the room for their target until they found the old man and pointed at him.

"There! Seize him men!" one guard hollered as the rest of the group surrounded the old man.

"B-But I did nothing wrong!" the old man protested.

"Shut up!" another guard barked as they bound the old man in ropes. "You're coming with us!"

"You're under arrest for inciting rebellion against the glorious shogun!" the third roared. "Do you not know this story is outlawed in Hibiki?"

As the old man was being dragged away, his eyes met that of the lone warrior. He tried to plead for help in whatever nonverbal way he could, but the warrior simply shrugged and turned away. The old man closed his eyes, resigned to his fate.

Little did they know that they were being watched.