Post by The Master Tactician on Dec 26, 2012 15:28:04 GMT -5
Swain stood hunched over a walnut table, which stretched the length of the meeting hall, his shrouded face just inches from the map of Ionia spread before him. He seemed deep in thought, straightening now and then to rub his chin, grumble audibly, pace unevenly by candlelight. (Step, step, cane. Step, step, cane.)
Despite the room's chill, the impressive hearth sat dark and cold. The heavy crimson curtains were drawn over the windows, blocking out the sun. Noxus' newly appointed Grand General, among other eccentricities, loathed the harsh light of a roaring blaze, preferred the flicker of a single candle--even while reading, preferred the dark.
The General traced a gnarled finger over the map, an intensity burning just behind his sunken eyes. He tapped a jagged inlet of the island and muttered aloud, "The weakest point." Then there came a knock at the door.
"Sir, Katarina's here to see you..." he brought a heavy fist down on the heavy hickory door, halfway between the knob and the floor- this time causing the whole thing to rattle.
Post by The Master Tactician on Dec 26, 2012 18:14:46 GMT -5
Swain raised an eyebrow, drawn from his musing, and began to roll up the map on the table. "Open the door, you great oaf. Have you got into the ale already? It's hardly midday," he said with contempt. "What does she want."
The bird that had sat silently upon its shadowed mantelpiece perch fluttered over to his shoulder with a sharp, "Caw!"
The door swung open as The Hand of Noxus strode into the room. "She has news from the front..." he loosed his axe and let it fall with a resounding THUD into its usual spot against Swain's command table; "I don't trust her general," he shifted his weight, turning around to lean back on the table "if I believed any Noxian were capable... I would go so far as to say she admires the Exemplar."
Post by The Master Tactician on Dec 29, 2012 2:09:34 GMT -5
"Of course you don't trust her. Nor should you. But that does not make her of any less value to my cause. Should I send you behind enemy lines, with your unparalleled stealth and finesse?" The grand general snorted at his own joke.
He rounded the table, leaning heavily on his cane. "What is that supposed to mean, 'admires?' That she harbors a fondness for the idiot prince of Demacia? That she will betray us to them?" By the dim candlelight, Swain's lined face seemed particularly haggard, shadows playing off his crow's feet, off the heavy bags beneath his eyes. "Whatever makes you think she knows enough to hurt us?"
Darius brow furrowed as he folded his arms, "she may not, but her idiot brother is well connected..." he paused. "Their family was not as receptive to our leadership as the rest of Noxus;" picking up a small plastic dagger stuck in a pedestal, that lay on the command table's Ionia world map, which represented the sinister blade he continued "Talon may be having her gather information about us..." He dropped the marker on the table; scoffing as he reached for his axe and turned to leave "Watch her Swain... watch her closely."
Post by The Master Tactician on Dec 29, 2012 23:19:20 GMT -5
Swain rolled his eyes, growing impatient. He took a bit of stale bread from a plate upon the table and offered it to the giant raven on his shoulder. "I am a man with many eyes and ears, Darius. I am always watching. Have the guards send her up."
When he left, Darius' axe remained leaned against the command table; the shadow it cast fell across the Noxian capital and ironically a miniature replica of the same axe. The sound of his gargantuan boots thudding down the hallway began to fade, until the giant man was out of earshot.
The steady thudding of heavy boots returned in force. A steady march. Practiced. Coordinated. Two separate pairs of steel stepping perfectly in sync; yet barely matching the retreating Executioner’s steps in volume from moments previous.
Then Silence. An abrupt cessation of the formerly resounding beat as the doorknob turned. Light flooded in from fiery torches outside, illuminating a cloaked figure for a brief moment. The flickering of the flame dancing above the melting wax once again the sole illumination in the room as the door shut with a light thud; quenching the momentary brilliance as suddenly as it had first appeared.
The figure remained still, adjusting to the new lightning and scanning its immediate surroundings; concealed in solitary sea of black with the exception of a single decorated brooch- identifying the House to which the bearer belonged. A soft exhale as the onyx fabric flowed, the cloth distraught. The garment fluttered apart as lithe hands reached up to remove the hood; a torrent of garnet cascading over the expensive cloth.
Katarina stepped forward, walking towards the only other source of sentience in the room as a gloved hand grasped the edge of her parting cloak, tossing it over her shoulder and out of the way with a single graceful movement; partially revealing her familiar black leather outfit underneath. Her left arm remained hidden as her right reached behind her, the footsteps stopping as she retrieved then deposited a rather crudely wrapped scroll onto the table. She slid her fingers along the rolled parchment as she withdrew her arm, flicking the scroll lightly as her fingers left the cylinder. Giving the scroll just sufficient force to begin rolling towards the General. The woman smirked upon the completion of her mission, shifting her weight from one foot to the other before reaching towards the discarded axe.
“Surely it isn’t necessary to accompany your assassin with Raedsel the moment she shows up on your doorstep…”
A single digit lightly trailing up the length of the heavy axe, another joining the first by the time it had reached the crown of the hilt; tapping it lightly as her eyes continued to stare into the glowing red orbs.
“It merely tempts one to forget how to use doors.”
Post by The Master Tactician on Dec 31, 2012 12:17:43 GMT -5
Swain lifted his hand to receive the scroll, grasping it as it rolled beneath his palm. "Merely a routine precaution, madame. I dearly hope you're not offended by my vigilance." His tone was not apologetic, but subtly scathing; his eyes searched her shadowed face for a moment before he unfurled the parchment, adding, "Such things are necessary for the time being."
The general scanned the page, his red eyes darting back and forth by candlelight. When he had finished, he set it down upon the table, atop the map of Valoran and its various scattered markers. He pursed his lips behind his shroud, drummed his fingers upon the table in apparent internal debate.
Then his voice rang out through the dim chamber, a caustic growl. "Fitting that this is finally over with." He gestured towards the scroll. "I have another matter that requires your attention."
She raised an eyebrow as she examined the man's face- well, what she could see of it anyway. Mainly those glowing orbs, although it was rather hard not to get distracted by the winged monstrosity perched upon his shoulder. Katarina sighed, letting the hand resting atop the hilt slide back down its polished length until her arm returned back to her side; adjusting her weight once more as she placed her hand onto her hip. Precautions. Please. Like two Raedsel could hold her. Perhaps a platoon at the very least… Quite the investment considering they wouldn’t even realize she had slipped through their ranks; in and out of the Onyx gates. She ran her tongue along her upper lip. No entry unless they drew blood against their liege. Does he even bleed? Katarina ran her concealed hand along the hilt of one of her numerous daggers. It seemed so easy… She pursed her lips before curving them into another smile; movement- the Assassin quickly pushed her thoughts out of her mind. The esteemed General had completed his light reading. Her little smirk only seemed to grow wider as he continued.
“Oh?”
The hand slipped from her hip as she leaned forward, placing her arm on the table; crimson strands slipping forward and brushing against the timber. Her other hand continued to toy with the little ridges on the hilt of her blade; seemingly a little restless from her little… fantasy.
Post by The Master Tactician on Dec 31, 2012 20:11:20 GMT -5
The general flipped through a pile of papers upon the walnut table. Bandages, wrapped tightly over his right hand's knuckles, seemed to answer the assassin's internal question, spotted brown with old blood. Finally, he withdrew a newsprint photograph of Jarvan the Third from the pile and laid it upon the table before Katarina.
"I want," he began, speaking deliberately, "to expedite Jarvan the Fourth's ascension to the Demacian throne." A slight smile flickered behind his shroud. He took a dagger-shaped marker from the map of Valoran and pinned the photograph to the table through the king's forehead. "I think he'll make his father... proud." He placed the most subtle of emphases on the word "father," then turned his burning gaze from the photo to the red-headed woman across the table. "Don't you?"
Her fingers absentmindedly continued to slide along each individual ridge on her weapon, her palm perched on the hilt when the photograph was placed before her. Her half lidded eyes glanced immediately back towards Swain. So... it was time then. Katarina inhaled softly through her nose, letting her lungs fill with air before pulling back from the table; standing tall. Excitement coursed through her body, sparks of lightning arcing up her spine as she ran her tongue along her lower lip; dampening it almost sensually.
This.
This was going to be fun.
Various plans, approaches, entry into the grand city. A disguise? A network of lies? Perhaps assaulting the walls themselves. Backup would definitely be necessary, if not at the very least for her extraction. She laughed softly to herself. Of course she had been chosen. Every agent had seen maps of the place but she alone had braved its streets, explored the city. She alone had such familiarity. She had been escorted by the Crown Prince himself, after all. She alone was suited for this kill. The thought of appearing behind he who suspected nothing and eliminating him with a concealed blade coincided perfectly with the dagger sliding into the parchment. Would he even be aware of his death? Would the fear have time to grip his mind as he saw his own blood cloud his vision?
Then everything ended.
Her train of thought was interrupted as she was brought back to the dimly lit room. The assassin’s dancing fingers stopped; immediately gripping the blade- the leather of her gloves crushing into the hilt. Every ounce of self restraint was taxed as she strained to keep herself from annihilating the head of the wrong city state.
She parted her lips as she exhaled softly. Slowly. Closing her eyes for a moment as she calmed herself down; donning again a more fitting visage. A false smile.
"Impossible. "
She turned, the black cloak tossed over her shoulder flowing back to its place; the Ionian perfume she had worn for her latest mission permeated the room as her hair fluttered about behind her.
"One's father would not be proud at all of the fall of his own city state.”
The assassin stood still for a moment that seemed to drag on for an eternity before she finally calmed down sufficiently to return to the task at hand.
Post by The Master Tactician on Dec 31, 2012 22:56:04 GMT -5
Seeming to relish the silence that followed her veiled chide, he sneered. When she spoke again he lifted his chin, considering. "A unit will be unnecessary, Katarina. It is worth mentioning the most important feature of this assignment: that Noxus wishes Demacia peace and prosperity after the unfortunate, natural death of their beloved king." He punctuated each adjective for effect.
The general lowered himself into his chair, set his elbows upon the table, laced his fingers beneath his chin. From his shoulder, the giant raven cawed. Beatrice puffed out her feathered chest, flapped her wings and screeched repeatedly, as though perturbed by the tangible tension in the dim hall. "Quiet," snapped Swain. The bird fell silent, folded her wings again, demure.
The general turned his gaze again to Katarina. "This is not a game of daggers and acrobatics. This is a mission of silence. Of subtlety. There is to be no trace of Noxian involvement. Is that clear?"
There goes any enjoyment that could have been garnered from such a task. It made sense though, she supposed. Noxus could not fight a two front war. The neutral City States would have an arbitrarily high chance of siding with the angered Demacians and Noxus did not yet have the strength nor the allies to successfully carry out a blitzkrieg against any of the other nations assuming even that there was some way to stay the Institute's hand. She sighed softly, turning and placing both hands on the table; parting the veil of darkness- her brooch glinting in the candlelight.
"Of course."
Katarina tapped her fingers against the wooden surface in order, left to right in a quick staccato. Her emerald orbs burned, reflecting the dancing flame within them with a certain intensity as she continued.
"Anything else you haven't told me?"
She did not wait for a response.
"I will require resources. And a unit regardless; albeit of a different kind."
Last Edit: Dec 31, 2012 23:25:38 GMT -5 by fark
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Welcome to Maelstrom, Original Characters, Summoners and Champions alike. We are a divergent setting roleplay forum for the ever-popular MOBA by Riot, League of Legends. This means we are based in Riot canon, but your characters' actions can have a real, lasting impact on the world. Together, the Maelstrom community endeavors to bring the League of Legends setting and characters to life through collaborative storytelling and meaningful development. We welcome you along for the ride.
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