Post by The Sinister Blade on Aug 7, 2013 18:39:51 GMT -5
June 21, 23 CLE
If only that blasted woman had not been so damn nosey this mission would have gone so much smoother and been much easier. After the disaster at the docks she had to improvise on the fly. All her planning had gone up in smoke and it was all her fault. She swore to herself that Quinn would pay for the trouble she had caused her. She was going to be sorry she had the nerve to interfere with one of her missions.
Instead of having all the time in the world to get the job done she had to rush things along. She had known the first place Quinn would look was the Crownguard mansion so she had decided to slip into the castle with the maids. She knew very little about Quinn but she was fairly certain that she wasn't one of the nobility making the castle the safest place for her but even her common birth wouldn't keep her safe for long. Quinn had seemed of the determined sort. She wouldn't give up on finding her regardless of the problems.
Once inside she made the rounds and acted like a maid should. She was new and had to keep any suspicion from her while she prepared for her mission. She knew she would only have a day or two if she was lucky before Quinn searched her out in the castle.
The next day she had a visit from the Raven and made sure it knew to inform Swain to deliver the poison the following morning. The rest of the day was spent doing her maid work and watching the kitchen staff and how the dining hall was set up and small details that could turn success into disaster. With that done all that was left was to determine the best path to the exit once the job was done. Once all the details were planned out it was time for some rest. Tomorrow would be a big day. Tomorrow a she end the life of a king. Not even she had done something on that scale before.
It was the big day. She had received the poison and put it in a small pocket in her sleeve. She went down to the kitchens with the rest of the kitchen staff to prepare breakfast for the king. She was sure Swain had done this on purpose. Making her demean herself as a maid to perform the task. There were so many other ways to do this but he had to have her be a maid. Enough of such thoughts. She had to focus. When the meal was prepared she took the plates out to the diners one at a time. When it was time for the king's plate she sprinkled it with the poison. It was tasteless and odorless so he wouldn't notice it and it would need more then a bite to cause any effects incase someone tested it for poison. It was the perfect poison for the mission. Swain had chosen well.
She brought it out to the king with a smile on her face. She placed it before him. "Would you care for anything to drink?"
Post by King Jarvan Lightshield III on Aug 9, 2013 13:53:33 GMT -5
The king leaned forward to take in the food's smell with a deep breath. His eyes close and a soft hum came out of his sealed lips, letting the delicious aroma of the fried eggs, buttered toast and smoked ham fill his lungs. His old, but slender fingers tigtly grasped knive and fork, which he used to carefully cut a slice of ham.
His eyes looked up after hearing a vaguely familiar voice. He squinted, trying to remember. He was certain he had heard that exact sentence before during another breakfast... but he couldn't tell how long ago... A whole year? Perhaps more? The monarch clicked his tongue before speaking with an inquisitive tone. "Your voice... your voice is familiar, but also distant... What is your name, young lad?"
"In our eternal forward march, we must stomp out evil all across Valoran wherever it may grow. Leave no stone unturned: the roots of one ignored weed will inevitably corrupt the whole of the garden.”
Post by The Sinister Blade on Aug 13, 2013 3:34:44 GMT -5
It took all of Katarina's will to steel her features and seem at ease despite the fact that she was on the verge of panic. Had Swain picked the one maid in Noxus that the king knew? It wasn't possible was it? Was the spell fading? She didn't think so but she didn't know much of anything about magic so she couldn't be sure. She pasted a confused yet happy smile on her face. "I don't know where my lord could have heard my voice before your majesty. I am but a humble maid that just entered your employ recently. My name is Melea Porter but I don't think you would have heard that ether. Is there something wrong? Have I displeased you?" She hated acting so simple and submissive. If she didn't know he would be dead within the hour she just might lose it and gut him here and now.
She stood quietly awaiting the answer to her original question.
Post by King Jarvan Lightshield III on Aug 13, 2013 15:39:58 GMT -5
The king turned her head towards the maid. After having a glimpse of her face, a tingling feeling in the back of his head told him he had, without a doubt, seen the maid before - he just couldn't exactly put a finger on exactly when.
His lips curved into a faint smile. "Of course you haven't, Melea." Quite a... unique name, he thought. He was certain it wasn't the first time he'd heard it, though.
Slender fingers carried the fork, which in turn carried a thin slice of ham, towards his mouth. The king delicately chewed it for a few seconds before swallowing. He then cleaned his mouth with a napkin, followed by bringing his water goblet to his lips so he could take a little sip from it. He wiped his lips with the napkin once more and then placed the goblet at its corresponding place on the table before eyeing the maiden again. "So, you've recently started to serve us Lightshields, hm? If you don't mind me asking, lady Porter, where did you serve before?"
"In our eternal forward march, we must stomp out evil all across Valoran wherever it may grow. Leave no stone unturned: the roots of one ignored weed will inevitably corrupt the whole of the garden.”
Post by The Sinister Blade on Aug 14, 2013 1:36:18 GMT -5
She blushed. "Thank you your majesty. I was named after my grandmother. She was a wonderful woman so my father tells me. I just hope to make my family proud."
God if Swain really had screwed this up by taking a maid that the king knew somehow she would not take the blame for it. She would NOT. Oh god who was she kidding. He would make it her fault regardless.
At least he was eating a little. Not quickly though and it was testing her patience but she would not screw this up over his slow eating, her nerves were better then that. But this mission testing her in ways she hadn't expected.
"I was the maid for a wealthy merchant within the city. It was positively dreadful when the undead came. I was the only one to get out alive." *she forced some tears* See! She could act when she needed to. "I'm sorry your majesty. It is still so fresh in my mind. I was the only one to escape. I am so grateful to be taken in and given a job. I will repay your kindness, I swear it."
Post by King Jarvan Lightshield III on Aug 14, 2013 15:37:33 GMT -5
The king stopped eating for a second, silence slowly taking over the room. His head lowered and his lips turned into a sad frown. After an apologectic gaze, and a slight bow of his head, his majestic voice broke the silence. "I apologize for having brought up the subject, Melea. You... You're dismissed. Go rest for a while if you need to." Jarvan's words were followed by a quick flick of his wrist.
After a few seconds of contemplation, his gaze would settle on the plate once more, and he would resume his breakfast.
"In our eternal forward march, we must stomp out evil all across Valoran wherever it may grow. Leave no stone unturned: the roots of one ignored weed will inevitably corrupt the whole of the garden.”
Post by The Sinister Blade on Aug 16, 2013 9:18:50 GMT -5
It had worked! Err...of coarse it worked. She was the Sinister Blade after all. At the kings words she looked at him full of gratefulness. "Thank you your Majesty. You are to kind to me." She gave him a deep courtesy before backing away. He was going back to his breakfast and saw that he had eaten enough for the poison to take effect and showed no sign of stopping. She had done it. The king would die unless Soraka happened to around and saw what was happening right away, that was highly doubtful. No, the prince would find himself the king when he returned from his peace talks. She put that out of her mind however. The king may be a dead man that just didn't realize it yet but she still had to get out of the city before his last breath.
She hurried back to her room and gathered up all of her meager possessions. There was nothing incriminating but leaving anything wasn't a good idea. When everything was within the bag she left the room and made her way to the servants doors. If anyone asked she was off duty and bringing some things to a friend in the city. In reality she needed to get to the carriage as quickly as she could without being suspicious and hoping that Quinn wasn't healed yet or didn't know where she was.
She made it past the guards at the doors and she smiled and nodded to them. There were so many servants coming and going that they didn't suspect a pretty young maid of being anything else. They gave her a smile and let her pass. She was almost home free. She walked down the street quickly but no so quickly as to draw attention to herself. After just a few minutes of walking she drew up to the carriage and got in. The driver was in on the plan and just waited for her instructions.
"Wait a little while. I want to be sure." When her disguise disappeared she would know that the mission was a success. It added a small amount of potential danger but leaving without being sure could cause no end of problems. The thought of going to Swain telling him the job was done when it wasn't would greatly lower her life expectancy.
Post by King Jarvan Lightshield III on Aug 26, 2013 12:22:09 GMT -5
It took the king around twenty minutes of painfully slow eating to finish his breakfast, thoroughly savoring every bite. He then emptyed his goblet with a long sip, wiped his mouth clean and immediately stood up. With slow steps, the king headed towards his quarters in order to prepare for an outing. Demacia was in its direst moment of need, and the thought a public speech would, at the very least, boost their morale.
"In our eternal forward march, we must stomp out evil all across Valoran wherever it may grow. Leave no stone unturned: the roots of one ignored weed will inevitably corrupt the whole of the garden.”
Post by King Jarvan Lightshield III on Sept 3, 2013 15:18:15 GMT -5
Approximately 4 hours later
The sound of a thousand handbells clanging in unison took Demacia by storm. The royal criers unfurled their scrolls and read them aloud, their voices proudly booming across the town streets. "Hear ye, hear ye. Our gracious majesty, king Jarvan Lightshield the Third, will deliver a speech in order to lift the spirits of the people of Demacia."
Meanwhile at the Lightshield Castle's balcony, the monarch cast his gaze over the kingdom, lost in his thoughts. Despite the people's tremendous efforts to rebuild Demacia, much of it still lied in ruins. A juvenile voice forced the king to emerge from his trance. "Shall we prepare the Sonorus spell, your majesty?" Jarvan glanced over his shoulder and nodded, and the summoners began his incantations.
"In our eternal forward march, we must stomp out evil all across Valoran wherever it may grow. Leave no stone unturned: the roots of one ignored weed will inevitably corrupt the whole of the garden.”
Post by The Sinister Blade on Sept 3, 2013 18:29:16 GMT -5
She knew she should have left long ago but she couldn't bring herself to leave without being sure that he was dead. It just wasn't in her nature to leave a job not knowing that it was completed. So here she was hiding in the back of a carrage going around and around for the last while with small stops to keep the suspiciousness as low as possible. She had heard a half hour ago that the king would be making an appearance and so she was as close to the spot as she could get while staying inside the carrage. She was sure the king would drop dead at any moment and as such couldn't risk leaving her cover and escape but still wanting to hear whatever the king would say before he croaked. The king just have a very strong immune system to have lived this long already but she was sure he had eaten enough of the poison before she had left. He would die. No matter how stubborn he was he would go down eventually.
It was then that she heard the voice of the herald. It was starting. Everyone was crowding in and she could barely see anymore. It was everything she could do to hold her temper in check. She forced it down and instead smiled a vicious smile. I wonder how high there spirits will be when you fall over dead in the middle of your speech. She continued to congratulate herself until she heard the sounds of the summoners and there spell casting. That jarred her out of her thoughts in a hurry. What in the name of Noxus were they up to. She forced her way out of the carrage and pushed forward enough to see what was going on. One man started to berate her but she leveled such a cold deadly stare upon him that despite her appearance as a maid he swallowed his words and shuffled away. Katarina, the sinister blade watched the proceedings with every ounce of her attention.
Post by Demacia's Wings on Sept 8, 2013 8:12:28 GMT -5
It was not the sound of birds chirping that woke her but the low murmurs and the clinking and clanging of metal on steel that forced Quinn's eyes open. Confusion only lasted for a split second before last night's events came rushing back to her. She quickly sat up... or would have, had her attempt not been offset by the sudden roaring pain that seemed to almost split her stomach in half. She fell back against the bed, unable to curl up but gasping for breath between clenched teeth. She could feel the wound opening up, blood weeping into the rough bandages that had been wrapped around her abdomen. Quinn knew it had not been stitched up properly but that was the least of her worries.
Every bone in her body ached, groaning in protest every second she moved. But she forced herself to slowly slide herself from the bunk, her eyes roaming to take in where she was. The Barracks? She had clearly been found unconscious and bleeding on the dusty path and that in itself felt too embarrassing to linger on for too long. Quinn stood, ever so gently. Her clothes had been replaced by a simple nightshirt and pants, her usual attire and armor piled up in a corner. Standing up, however, left her feeling quite dizzy and it took her a couple of moments to stop herself reeling over. She was glad her stomach was empty as it was - though she crudely wondered if any contents had been spilled by the grinding stab and rip that had been given to her by... that woman. Her thoughts turned, like a vicious storm.
At first she cursed herself for being so foolish. For being caught unprepared by a woman whom she knew was a talented assassin. Showing a weapon, pulling out the blade... it was stupid, to put it bluntly. She clenched her tongue lightly between her teeth to stop a frustrated growl from spilling forth. She knew that she had been knocked out, but for how long she was unaware. She pressed her hand against the bandages, wincing slightly. The sudden movement earlier had definitely made it worse but she knew that she had to move. She needed to find out where... or why Katarina was in Demacia, disguised as a maid of all things.
She carefully dressed herself in her own clothes which smelled far too strongly of detergent. The hole that had been created by her own knife had been poorly stitched - probably by the same person that had tended to her wounds. Once Quinn had strapped her armor to her body did she turn to pick up her crossbow. Only to realize that she had not taken it with her. She wasn't sure which room she was in, but she knew that her weapon should be around, provided nobody took it. Her slow shuffle out the door seemed to remain unnoticed - there weren't many soldiers left, but Quinn only puzzled over it briefly before she spotted what she was looking for.
With her bow strapped securely to her body, she wasted no time in escaping the stifling confines of the building that smelled of old metal. The daylight that hit her almost caught her by surprise. She was aware that by the stiffness of her joints she had been out for some time, but never did she think it would be this late in the day. The sun was beaming overhead, pourings its rays down onto the city that seemed unaware of its own dangers.
Quinn's first stop was at the Crownguard Manor and upon arrival, wasted no time in knocking. At least the bandages were tight enough but she still found it difficult to move quickly without disturbing her injuries. Her hand subconsciously moved to her stomach as the door was opened by a cheery looking maid. Quinn glanced at her. "Hello." The maid blinked once at first, then tilted her head. She tried again. "I'm... a group of... your friends, they arrived last night here? From Noxus?"
It seemed the blonde seemed all the more confused and the ranger was starting to feel the beginnings of a headache. "Look," she said sternly, "There is a... very large possibility that Demacia has been... has been infiltrated." Quinn gritted her teeth, the pounding in her head growing louder every second. "I just... just answer me. Please. Was there a straggler? Someone who arrived much later?"
The maid, with her baby blues, oh-so reminiscent of the assassin's clever illusion, shook her head as she closed her mouth slowly. Her gaze seemed to be drawn constantly to Quinn's hand which seemed to be permanently clasped to her stomach. Though she could not see the blood or the injury, she could see the way Quinn's chest heaved unevenly and the way she stood, almost as if she was about to collapse.
The ranger simply thanked the maid quietly before moving away. Once she was sure she heard the door click, she heaved out a sigh. So Katarina was not hiding out in the Crownguard's abode... then again, why would she? It was the most obvious place and though Quinn figured she was being smart by looking in plain sight, she knew that the assassin was not capable of creating such a devious disguise all by herself. Especially not when it came to arranging transportation...
In that moment, Quinn's heart sunk. She glanced up, watching Valor's form speed towards her but she knew what information he had to relay. Knowing that she was passed out, he would have gone by himself to survey the situation but the Demacian knew that she was completely and utterly wrong. Her eyes moved from her companion to the faint outline of the palace, her legs moving automatically towards the shining towers.
Post by King Jarvan Lightshield III on Sept 12, 2013 16:11:30 GMT -5
It didn't take long for the citizens of Demacia to get out of their homes and crowd the streets. The monarch peeked over the balcony only to find millions of expectant faces looking up at him. His old, wrinkled lips turned into a smile as he waved his hand at his subjects. The same voice from before caught his attention, informing him that the spell was ready. A glance over the shoulder and a light nod sufficed for the magi to position themselves each on one side of the king, their summoning orbs hovering in front of their chests.
"People of Demacia", he proudly pronounced, the magical orbs broadcasting his voice across the city. "We have weathered many storms. We have seen much hardship--but still the Demacian spirit has, and always will, prevail. We are stro-" The monarch's speech was halted by a hacking cough. A few gentle taps on his chest were all he needed to clear his throat and resume the oration. "We are strong in justice- and in one another! Despite the challenges ahead, we will-" A second, louder cough boomed across the town. The king closed his eyes and winced in pain as he clutched his chest. His heart burned, sending waves of excruciating agony across his entire body. His vision blurred and darkened and, in desperation, the king stumbled over the banister. Hurried steps and shrieks of horror came first from behind, and then from above, along with the cutting wind's hiss.
Everything stopped. The wind no longer whispered into his ears, nor did the people cry or yell. His own body seemed to ignore his commands, refusing to move. It was as if Valoran itself had halted, simply to grant Jarvan the Third his last moments of peace.
The overwhelming silence was broken by a resounding "thud" as the monarch's lifeless body collided with the smooth floor, painting the street crimson.
"In our eternal forward march, we must stomp out evil all across Valoran wherever it may grow. Leave no stone unturned: the roots of one ignored weed will inevitably corrupt the whole of the garden.”
Post by Demacia's Wings on Sept 12, 2013 23:20:08 GMT -5
Slow.
She was too slow. Every hurried step she took felt like she was crawling at a snail's pace. The people of Demacia were already congregating to the courtyard, murmurs of the King's appearance drifting through her ears. She maneuvered her way through the gathering crowd, her eyes glued to the palace. Would Katarina dare slip a knife between the King's ribs right in front of the entirety of his city?
Quinn shook her head. No, she would not dare. An assassin would kill their target before they even left their room, but she could hear the beginnings of King Jarvan's speech. She felt an elbow in her side, and a hand against her shoulder but she shrugged it off. Quinn knew her armor looked out of place amongst 'her own people', the commoners.
People of Demacia.
They were people too. Commoners, nobles, soldiers. Just people with blood and life. And the life of the King, with a wheezing cough, seemed to severe the very line in which everyone shared. Quinn held her breath as she squeezed her way through finally, looking up to catch a glimpse of the smiling face. Pride. Then discomfort. Then pain, as another hacking sound echoed into the amplifiers. She watched, almost as if in slow motion, as the King - the symbol of Demacia - tripped and stumbled right over.
Late.
Too late. Quinn pushed her way past the horrified crowd towards the body. Still and broken, like a puppet with no strings. He lay motionless, facedown with a pool of blood surrounding his head. Drowning in red. Quinn took a step forward, her hand trembling. Though it felt like days, only a few seconds passed before a scream tore through the air.
"The King!"
"What happened!?"
"Everybody get back!"
"Move! Don't come closer!"
"Who did this!?"
It was piercing to her numb mind, but every word was as clear as the sky overhead, with the wind whistling merrily and the sun shining heavily. Quinn was pulled away, thrown back by rough hands as the soldiers who were present quickly ran forward. Others pushed the crowd back, stemming the surge of agony and surprise and sheer terror as the good people of Demacia began to weep and cry out.
Life.
Quinn stood and though her eyes remained dry, they were wide and filled with despair. Her wounds had begun to cry, blood seeping and staining her flesh but she remained oblivious to it. Though she was not aware, she had begun to move. Forward once more, yet she was being pushed back with the rest. She could not see the body, only the scarlet that ran in tiny rivers from the lake. The ranger retreated, knowing she had no place here. Knowing that she would not be believed, when chaos reigned supreme.
She should have stopped her. That fucking Noxian.
Weak.
Quinn moved, further from the public eye and further from the alert soldiers. She needed to leave. She had to. Not for the King but for Demacia. For all they had taken, they had also given and such was life. She needed redemption and with one last glance at the balcony - where the King took his final breath, she vanished into the crowd.
Post by The Sinister Blade on Sept 15, 2013 10:40:10 GMT -5
She had stood and watched while the king started his speech that was meant to lift the spirits of his people. She was truly beginning to worry that the poison had somehow failed when he started to cough and stumble around. She immediately started to make her way back to the carriage. She moved just in the nick of time. By the time she had made it back to the safety of the carriage she had time only to watch as the king fell from the stage.
Moments later she felt the disguise she had worn for so long disappear. She was herself again. God it felt good to know she no longer looked like a simple maid and once again could make people tremble at the sight of the most notorious assassin in Valorian. She was once again the Sinister Blade.
She was anxious to be out of here. She shouldn't have waited as long as she had. But the seriousness of the job had made her want to be absolutely sure it was complete. "Lets get..." She was startled out of completing the sentence when she heard the voice coming out of her mouth. It felt strange after having the maids voice for so long. "Lets get out of here. I am anxious to be away from all these Demacians."
With that the carriage started to make its way out of the city. The job was done. She couldn't wait to be back home where she could let her own maids pamper her. She wouldn't take them for granted anytime in the near future.
Post by The Sentinel's Sorrow on Sept 27, 2013 19:01:27 GMT -5
The Sentinel had been flying all over the golden city of Demacia all day, and had seen nothing of any import. Now, he landed with a dull thud on a roof with a clear view of King Jarvan III. The particular roof he had chosen afforded him not only a clear view of the balcony the King occupied but also of the crowd below. As Jarvan III began his address to the crowd, Galio listened attentively, though his eyes occasionally scanned the crowd for any signs of trouble. As the king mentioned how Demacia was still yet strong though it had weathered storms, Galio could not help but remember how the greatest storm in his own life was the loss of his creator Duran.
He was shaken from his musings at the king's first cough. Galio could not help but feel a sense of dread wash over him. His keen eyes quickly but thoroughly swept through the crowd of onlookers. He caught sight of Quinn, who was clearly injured by the way she moved, shoving her way through the crowd. His already creeping suspicion reached full blown concern, but it was already too late, because as he swiveled his attention back to the king it happened.
The King of Demacia fell.
To the Sentinel, it was as if Jarvan III fell in slow motion, though in reality it took only moments. Later, Galio would attribute this to the way he was designed to come up with multiple tactics for any situation in mere moments. As the king hit the ground, before any had overcome their shock, the gargoyle was already airborne. Just as the first screams started, he landed in front of the fallen body of their leader, standing over and protecting him. As the crowd began to become frantic and Demacian guards strove in keeping them back, Galio stood over Jarvan III's body--much like he had stood over Duran's body for all those years--with sadness etched into his expression. The noise of the shouting, screaming, and scuffling were drowned out as waves of sorrow washed over him. Had he been capable, he would have openly wept and let his tears fall onto the one whom all of Demacia had failed to protect. Whom he had failed to protect.
Looking up suddenly, he watched Quinn flee away from the awful scene. Would that he could run away from such a scene. But no, he had his duty to accomplish, for he would not let this kind of tragedy paralyze him like before. As more soldiers arrived and pushed the crowd back, Galio carefully picked the body up and cradled it gently in his giant arms and spread his wings. All looks of surprise at seeing the gargoyle with the body of the king and all questions asked of him were ignored as he solemnly lifted off from the ground. His sorrow was palpable though he said nothing. He would bear the body to the palace's infirmary, where they would do what they would with it.
The only thought still cohesive in his numbed mind, screamed, "First Duran, and now the King of Demacia."
Which left him with only one phrase to cling to: Justice will be done.
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