Post by The Blade's Shadow on Aug 11, 2013 23:29:21 GMT -5
July 2nd, 23 CLE, East of Demacia, Approaching Midnight
Still robed in the sand colored garb from his time south of the Great Barrier, Talon stumbled through the light forests and fields. His armblade, the only device he knew that gave him some kind of importance, a place in the world, was strapped to his side. His thoughts were a mess, his head downcast and his hood up. Each step was automatic, unconscious. The waist height grass about him shuffled in the subtle summer breeze, before the assassin slumped to his knees.
A quick glance around the field showed no obvious pursuit. Fire wood was going to be hell to collect, but he was too exhausted to care. The time spent being silent and safe when he was younger now seemed like such a waste. Nevertheless, he went about with what little motivation he could, clutching the branches and twigs tightly in his left arm before dumping them unceremoniously in a pile and taking a few moments to flatten the grasses away from the soon-to-be fire. The rock pit was no more difficult to make, but finally managing to light the fire proved to be the biggest problem.
It took him enough tries to cause the casual murderer to grow annoyed, angry enough with himself to throw the rock down and loose an inarticulate cry into the skies above. He sat down in irritation and awkwardly pulled his cloak over his right side, watching the moon play across the dull silver of the blades attached to the end.
Post by Demacia's Wings on Aug 12, 2013 1:10:17 GMT -5
The amount of days that had passed was lost on the ranger as she skirted the edges of wicked blades and trees, nightfall giving her no sense of relief as even the howling of a wolf would send tremors down her spine. Valor too seemed less than happy at her decision to leave the Golden City behind for an indefinite period of time. Still, Quinn found there was no room for homesickness. After the incident that had left her abdomen scarred, she knew that she had a duty as a knight - if she could even call herself that - to find the one responsible. Even if it was, in some part, her fault.
The sun was beginning to descend, and she could feel the bite of wind against her cheek. She shivered, bringing her mantle tighter around herself. Quinn had discarded her armor, everything that would give her away. Travelling light was the only way she would get anywhere and with a backpack with just the bare necessities, Quinn was starting to regret not bringing more supplies. Though she was used to living without much, she was inexperienced when it came to living like this for so long. She sighed, continuing to collect some dry branch for the fire she would have to make later.
Valor returned, sharp eyed and cautious. He landed neatly upon Quinn's outstretched arm, snapping up a mouse the ranger held out for him. He cawed softly, swiftly jerking his head to the right with a ruffle of his wings. She frowned, muttering something in response. The bird's silence was confirmation enough. There was another who had made his tent on these plains, a figure Valor was unable to make out. She decided to follow his directions, noting the way Valor's claws tightened.
Smoke snaked its way to the skies and she could see, just faintly, the dancing flames of a fire and the shadow of a person by its side. Days away from Demacia had not made Quinn any less wary. In fact, it only seemed to heighten this sense of trouble. She kept Valor close to her as she approached, making sure not to make too much noise as she did so.
Post by The Blade's Shadow on Aug 27, 2013 16:40:21 GMT -5
The mixture of Talon's own turmoil and the skill that the ranger had kept him from noticing her, his eyes trained on the wavering, pathetic fire he'd managed to stoke. His left hand reached across his body as his knees drew up to his chest, pulling the leather straps over his other arm. Memories flooded through him, of his back against the wall in the gutters of Noxus as the moon arced across the sky, just as it did now.
Simpler times, stealing and later killing when he needed to in order to survive. No orders, politics, nothing. Just his hands- With that thought, he shuddered from head to toe and tugged his awkward cloak the tiniest bit tighter. Is this what emotional trauma is like? Is this what people go through every day? How... Pathetic. He reviled the thought that he was going soft, despite the circumstances.
His senses returned, as sharp as ever, eyes darting up and combing the thick grasses, but still nothing showed. Nothing about the situation felt okay, exposed and alone in the midst of a field. His muscles throbbed from the constant exertion of traveling across the badlands and the desert with only so much rest as could be spared and he wasn't certain how long he could remain awake. The assassin's left hand drew a triplicate of knives as inconspicuously as possible, carefully letting his eyes close with his chin rested on his drawn up knees. The grit that seemed to have invaded every inch of his tan clothing had been no more relenting with his eyes, dry and uncomfortable as he made a feeble attempt to manage what sleep he could.
Post by Demacia's Wings on Aug 27, 2013 23:04:41 GMT -5
When the shadow did not sway or even start at her presence, Quinn wondered if the man was a simple traveller, perhaps asleep. Due to both paranoia and experience, she never allowed herself the luxury of underestimating figures in the dark but even a mere soldier would be alerted to the way her boots seemed to crunch all too loudly upon stray twigs and dry grass. Valor himself remained motionless, his eyes not so accustomed to the inky black of the night sky even if the moon did give some relief to his senses.
His feathered head tilted slightly to the left, his beak clicking once and the ranger paused in her slow steps. The man - or woman - had shifted himself; not in surprise or shock, but a subtle movement that would have gone unnoticed had there been no silver light. This didn't mean a thing, but Quinn knew that her time spent sneaking up on some poor fellow meant that she was wasting her windows of opportunity.
So she stood, at a respectable distance and with a quiet breath, called out. "Hello?" Her voice still held a husky smoothness, but this time it was pockmarked with a strange uncertainty. A sense of danger washed over her, and she quickly motioned for Valor to fly. The ranger didn't know why those words had tumbled from her lips. It all seemed to fall so quick but she knew that there was no turning back.
Regret flowed; her decisions turning on it's head as she muttered to herself. Hell, she regretted even approaching this situation at all, but her curiosity always seemed to get the better of her. Quinn's hands moved to the trigger on her crossbow, her body tense and tight for whatever may come. "Sir? Madam?" She ventured cautiously. Her inquiries tasted dusty to her. It had been a while since she's had to call anyone that.
Post by The Blade's Shadow on Sept 6, 2013 22:27:01 GMT -5
The gentle grip Talon had on his knives immediately tightened at the sound of a voice, eyes opening as his head snapped to look at the intruder. How he'd managed not to hear them was something he felt could be sorted later and instead quickly took stock of his pursuer. Middling height for a woman, short brown hair... Familiar, which was unsettling, but there was very clearly something different. Possibly armed as well, holding something in her hand, though the grasses kept him from seeing what.
Drawing to his feet slowly, he kept his right arm hidden behind his cloak while the other none-too-subtly flashed the blades in the firelight before vanishing behind his palm, ready but hidden. "Who are you, what do you want, and why did you sneak up on me?" Growled the assassin, cutting past the woman's strangely formal greeting to get to the heart of the matter, though his voice was strained and tired.
Perhaps he'd been trespassing on someone's land. But would a farmer keep a field this far from Demacia's mainstay? Would he send his daughter out to find out why there was a man traipsing about? Too many questions and thinking them over was distracting his already tired mind.
"The last woman who crossed my path in the middle of the night is marked for death when I should see her next, unless you'd like to join her on the list, you'd better start talking." Perhaps the threat would be enough to dissuade her from trying anything rash, if whatever she was holding turned out to be a weapon.
Post by Demacia's Wings on Sept 7, 2013 4:23:08 GMT -5
Quinn was taken aback for a brief moment at the harsh response and as the hooded man stood, she quickly collected her composure. She could not see much from the way the shadows darkened the other's visage, and the cloak was unfamiliar to her. The voice too did not hit a note she could recall, but she took in the way it whispered across polished blades. Barking yet soft; dangerous and demanding. It held no fear yet there was a sense of necessity. The man, clear from the gruff syllables that raked the air, needed these answers. Or perhaps something she could not quite grasp. Exhaustion and a line that was strung tight like a pirate's rope which she could detect so clearly - rather, it was reminiscent of her own.
But she remembered falling, once into the darkness and once into the light. Quinn collected caution close to her chest and held it tight as she inhaled sharply. Valor was still hidden, his dark blue wings blending well with the night but she was out in the open. She saw the glint of a weapon and it made her all the more wary. Of course a traveler would not be unarmed, but never had she heard even the most wayward throw out threats like they were nothing.
Still the ranger could not help but feel affronted. "Who I am is none of your concern," she responded though she was careful to avoid being too provocative. Despite being confident in her skills, she was not in the best of form. Or rather, she was not so equipped to deal with a man who sounded like a feral, cornered animal. Quinn did not know what this man's profession was, but it was clear that he was no farmer or merchant. A thief perhaps, but no thief would hide so out in the open. Actually, no sane human would venture so close to what was once the site of an Invasion by ghosts and undead things.
Unwelcome memories began to seep at this thought, and Quinn clenched her fingers tightly around her crossbow. She took a shaky breath, "I don't want anything," she continued, warily ticking off the questions that had been asked of her. "And I wasn't sneaking. If anything, you weren't paying enough attention to your surroundings." Her voice was full of accusations, both unnecessary and uninvited but she could not help it. She couldn't have made more noise if she tried. Quinn straightened herself up to her unimpressive height. "Finally, instead of threatening people to get out of your way, why don't you make it a habit to avoid them yourself? Unless you're incapable of doing even that."
Yes, it was probably not in her best of interest to scold a man who could potentially be hiding more than just knives in his sleeves but Quinn was prepared and so was Valor. Though her weapon remained hidden within the grass, there were arrows nocked and her finger was on the trigger.
Post by The Blade's Shadow on Dec 16, 2013 3:16:56 GMT -5
The words stung like salt in a wound but nothing the uppity woman had said was particularly wrong. Perhaps that was what maintained Talon's silence for the moment. Being caught off guard like this would've gotten him killed if he had been in Noxian territory. Thoughts of blood flashed to mind, if only because it would be the easy way to end all of this. It wasn't the right answer and he knew that much, the girl hadn't done anything particularly wrong. Her tone was abhorrent but it was past midnight and she was obviously on edge. Her stance was tense and she was clearly attempting to conceal something.
Standing, the blades at the end of his cape scraped the dirt as he turned his left hand and exposed its contents, three steel blades, each sending the flickering firelight dancing off their polished surface. "Come forward woman." He spoke calmly, softly, barely loud enough to be heard over the gentle rustle of the wind through the high grasses.
He'd shown his hand and was no less dangerous for it, anyone who paid the slightest attention to the League of Legends and their matches would recognize the cape of blades as his and his alone. His presence alone wasn't a threat, save perhaps for the fact that he kept his other arm as concealed as he could. It was fruitless, as his cloak could barely hang from his back and cover his arm at once and so it made his unconscious nervousness about it that much clearer. He was less than a man, now, his right arm ending just past the elbow. "Poor farmhand," Talon thought, "she's the first to see me like this."
Post by Demacia's Wings on Dec 16, 2013 11:32:25 GMT -5
Soft noises and softer action. That was what Quinn tracked through the thick trunks and messy limbs of the forests. But the man's whisper, whose voice was no louder than the sigh of a gentle breeze sent a small shiver down her spine. It was a familiar feeling; one that approached her in the dead of night, reminding her of the dead and the undead until she woke with trembling breaths. But Quinn also knew that this was what kept her alive, and what would continue to if she put her faith in her instincts.
She saw the weapons after the words, but gave no reply. She was silent, her form still and her eyes not upon the shadowed face but on the glint of steel. The knives seemed almost childish to her, though thought was very different from reality.
Another movement caught her attention, and Quinn's amber gaze spread from the blades to the tell-tale cloak. She had seen it before, perhaps not often, but it would be difficult to misplace their owner. When fabric and steel danced together in so obvious a fashion, Quinn's finger almost pressed the trigger, subsequently sending an arrow straight into the ground. Her hands tightened. She did not know what this man was doing here and though it was she who had imposed upon his privacy, he did not seem... himself.
Still, the ranger could take no chances. She lifted her crossbow, the gold and silver of the eagle's beak polished to a dull shine and the gleam of an arrow head within. Quinn cocked it at the assassin, "Do not presume to order me around, Noxian." Though her voice held the same wariness as it did, there was a hint of venom and some form of confused hatred. She knew this man had ties to the one she hunted and she would have no qualms in doing what it took to get her information.
Except, that's what she would have thought. The motions of discomfort and the attempt to try so hard... Quinn saw it all. Her gaze quickly darted down towards the man's arm, or the place where an arm should have been. She could not help but stare with her mouth closed, but her eyes were wide. She looked up, questions flowing but nothing escaped for a while. It was only when the silence seemed to last forever did Quinn finally speak, no longer willing to prolong the poison of her burning curiosity.
She gestured with her weapon, swallowing lightly in an attempt to find her voice. It was still unbelievable to her. An assassin who had lost an arm. Is that why he was wandering? Did he find himself an outcast? None of these inquires saw the light of the fire as she heard herself ask, "How?"
Post by The Blade's Shadow on Dec 19, 2013 13:04:37 GMT -5
Talon's entire body came to life as the bolt was leveled on his body, his will to survive much greater than the exhaustion he was feeling. His knees bent slightly and his head inclined, his grip upon his knives loosened just enough to throw them accurately. If she meant to fight, he hoped she was ready to die. The practiced murderer was in no mood for frivolities like 'mercy' right now and the haughty girl didn't seem the type to aim for the head. One arrow would aimed wrong wouldn't put the man down, but it would definitely slow his progress to... Wherever it was he decided to end up next.
She had stayed her hand and it was only upon closer examination of the weapon she held that everything clicked together. He knew of one person who held a weapon that ornate and unless she had handed it off, the woman standing before him was none other than Demacia's Wings. His focus didn't budge for a moment, as he wasn't sure if the rest of the world knew he was wanted dead by Noxus, but he couldn't afford to take chances. Still, it would be hilariously bad press for someone as notable as Quinn to murder what was once a Noxian, assuming anyone ever found the bod-
She moved her gaze first and her weapon next, and Talon was all too happy for his thoughts being interrupted. A glare flickered across his face for only a moment when her question came, before he answered, "The price of a rash decision..." The words hung for a few moments before he chased them down.
"What does a Demacian champion care what happens to a dog of Noxus, Quinn?" His voice had grown icy and was full of unspoken accusations, defensive of his still-fresh wounds, both physical and emotional. As tempting as it was to simply cut and run, he had no reason to back down, nor would his limping pride let him. Last he heard, sitting in a field wasn't a declaration of war.
With the hope of silencing further questions about the injury by satisfying her curiosity, Talon moved the arm slowly, giving a nearly imperceptible wince of pain as he bent the elbow. It served a dual purpose, gesturing as much as a handless arm could to the small clearing. Either she would come forward or he would, though he intended to be moving with an entirely different purpose if his hand was forced.
Post by Demacia's Wings on Dec 19, 2013 13:57:05 GMT -5
Quinn scowled at the other's tone of voice, and any tiny amount of pity that may have welled up inside her instantly evaporated. She held no love for Noxians, bad or otherwise. It had been instilled into her at a young age that anyone who had come from those polluted cities had to be vicious and cruel at their core. Even one-armed men and perhaps those were all the more dangerous. She knew that their Grand General was crippled in some ways and terrifying in that regard.
Still, she could not allow such suspicions to show. Quinn shrugged, acutely aware of the fabric of her clothing shifting softly against her skin. She grimaced at the sensation; it was all too real. This meeting, those words. She couldn't quite believe that Talon of all people would be so careless that he would lose an arm, or part of one. An assassin couldn't very well assassinate with their teeth (or at least, not as quickly and silently).
"A dog can't serve its master with only three paws, can it?" Quinn said, a little more brashly than she intended. But unlike all the other times she had done so, the ranger did nothing to soften the possible insult. She supposed it was the fact that she now had a name to a face, and a face to a description. Though she didn't know as much as she would like about the elusive Noxian blade, she knew enough. Or she hoped she did.
Valor screeched from high above, at last notifying any and all in the vicinity of his presence. Quinn did not so much as twitch, but she felt reassured. The fire flickering and shadows dancing gave the Demacian eagle enough light for him to see, and he surely saw the subtle gleam of the daggers as they moved as did the arm - or what was left of it - of the man that held them.
Quinn glanced at him, wondering and waiting. What was he still capable of? What would he do? But she was not anyone who would follow so blindly and she tilted her weapon up again. Perhaps he would be faster. Perhaps she would be. But Valor was here and it was four eyes against two. She gave no sign that she had even noticed Talon's discomfort. There was only so far she was willing to go to give in to such comforts and the ranger had been through too much to risk it all again.
She licked her lips lightly before responding to the motion. "What do you want? Is your cloak stuck around your legs?" She tossed her head, "Tell me what you want instead of pretending like I can read your mind." She knew that assassins were masters at detecting fear. Quinn was not afraid. Not at the man who had not yet cut her down, despite pushing the limits further and further. She had nothing to fear. But it was not a confidence herself - no, she had lost that long ago. It was the taste of danger. This man could take her to Noxus, or she would die trying. That was her purpose.
Post by The Blade's Shadow on Dec 24, 2013 7:08:25 GMT -5
The gears in Talon's head stopped grinding together quite so ineffectually as the insults started coming fast and loose. He bore them without a flicker, nothing she could possibly say would measure up to life in the gutters of Noxus. A few sour words were like a chorus of angels waking him from a night's lovely sleep, leaving a familiar, welcome tingle winding its way out across his body from his spine.
She had no business with him, at least she shouldn't have. She could have put a bolt or three in his guts by now if she had wanted to. Perhaps even been lauded like a hero for it. Demacian politics were hard to read for someone as straightforward as the Blade's Shadow. Intentions were much more clear, though, and it was becoming very obvious that the birdwatcher had some game.
The woman's head tipped back and that was motion enough for Talon to move. His hand snapped up like a flash, letting but one of his knives dart forward as if to lick at her throat. The wire that attached it to his hand brought it back swiftly, letting nothing more than a stiff breeze greet the girl. His eyes were narrow and his patience had evaporated entirely. "Corner a three legged dog, let your guard down, even for a moment, you'll be nothing more than his next meal." Talon snarled, voice drenched in venom from start to finish, his brown eyes blinking once but otherwise never leaving her gaze.
"We both know just how dangerous we are. You know my work and I know yours. If you were that sick of me, I'd be a corpse with no need to limp away. Step into the light and tell me what it is you want, unless you'd prefer to see yourself with clipped wings perched atop my blood-soaked kennel." The words were edged, more with his irritation than with anything else. Her birth was irrelevant, all human lives ended the same. If she were trying to wriggle some bit of information out of him, she was certainly trying his patience.
It was a gamble, any minute he could have a feathered bundle of talons trying at his eyes. Perhaps his little show would have made his point very clear. He was listening, just as he had been listening to a very different proposition many months back, but boasts and hiding were getting the brash woman further from whatever she might've wanted.
Post by Demacia's Wings on Dec 24, 2013 11:44:51 GMT -5
Quinn saw that the man almost seemed to ignore her entirely, the dispassionate gaze noticeable even beneath the murky darkness. Oddly enough, she didn't feel angered by this. She would have folded her arms, but she needed her weapon ready - despite the fact that some would note this situation as 'tense', she followed the exact logic Talon did. If he wanted her dead, she would be bleeding out from the throat. Except the ranger knew not to make the same mistake - she had been 'outwitted' by one assassin and she decided that repeating the instance was not in her best interest.
However, when a sharp bite of wind carved at the edge of her throat, so close she could taste the steel, Quinn decided that this was a different situation all together. She took a step back, her hand coming up to her throat as if to feel for any cut or blood. She saw the glimmer retreat back beneath Talon's cloak and a small sound of laughter echoed in her head. Danger was so close and Noxus, even closer. Was she willing to risk it all, just to prove this man wrong?
Quinn gripped her weapon tighter, her finger slamming down on the trigger and an arrow bolted out and embedded into the ground, the sharp point buried completely. The action almost seemed to startle her out of her brief reverie and her hand fell from her throat. She wanted to say something, anything to show that she wasn't afraid of this broken dog but the reality was, she was damaged as well. Not a dog, but a bird with broken wings and its beak strapped closed with an iron band. A silence inflicted entirely upon her own person.
Valor seemed to know her thoughts, as he always did. He swooped down over Talon's head, and landed gracefully upon the leather brace Quinn had strapped around her forearm. Then she took a step forward, and another, and another until the tip of her shoes were touching the thick fingers of the orange shadow cast upon the dirt. She did not look away from the assassin - never turn your back - and her eyes were ablaze with a dull, golden hue as the fire swept over her.
"Do you really know?" Quinn asked finally as Valor cocked his head. As always, he was ready to take flight and employ the sharp beak he was so proud of but the ranger made no move to lift her weapon. "Just as I do not truly know what you are capable of. The League works our skills into... many different ways." She shifted her legs, putting more weight on the left, then on the right. She realized that her wound had begun to throb again, not painful but it was an uncomfortable presence.
A deep breath, then silence. The dive and Quinn was not so sure she could swim here but she had to try. "What I want... is to enter Noxus. Preferably whole and healthy and preferably undetected." She did not mention that she would have also preferred an expert to show her the way, but she answered Talon's question and funnily enough, the first time she had spoken to anyone about her plans. It was... disconcerting.
Post by The Blade's Shadow on Jan 10, 2014 14:01:41 GMT -5
Although his life had tempered his nerves to be ready for the slightest change, the tiniest unexpected movement, words had always had a strange, jarring effect on the assassin. Particularly things that didn't seem to make much sense. Demacia and Noxus had always had their differences, sure, but sending an agent into enemy territory, especially with Noxus so fiercely defended, was suicide. A declaration of war, if they were ever caught. Personal reasons, perhaps?
"What does a notable Demacian scout want within Noxian borders? I assure you, if you think you'll find salvation there, you're sorely mistaken." Giving a derisive scoff, Talon gestured absently to the land around him. "If it were anything above board they wouldn't have sent you and you wouldn't be asking me for help."
Outwardly, Talon relaxed, though he was still ready to spring, coiled like an overwound piece of clockwork. The length of his patience had always been a weakness but the ranger was testing even that. Try though he might, he couldn't keep the creeping irritation from his voice, as he posed a question that he had never liked. "What makes you think I want to do anything for you? What's in this for me?"
Post by Demacia's Wings on Jan 13, 2014 23:05:14 GMT -5
The ranger could not help but snort. "Because Noxus would be the first place I would turn to for sanctuary," she retorted, her fingers drawing up to stroke Valor lightly on the top of his feathered scalp. The bird's eyes drooped shut slowly only to shoot open once more as Quinn's hand was snatched back as if burned by fire. Valor's head turned slowly, fixating a single eye on Talon as the ranger stepped back.
"I don't recall asking for your help," Quinn snapped, harsher than she wanted but the man's obvious disinterest in assisting her was grinding her nerves. Of course Talon wouldn't want anything to do with her, just as she had no reason to stand here and wait for him to list off an extra thousand reasons as to why. "I told you what I want, and I will get in." But as quick as the ice had spread, it melted and she sighed. She felt as if she was rocking between lethargy and a deep anger these days and she was beginning to feel the drain.
To be honest, Quinn didn't know if she wanted Talon to help. Heaven knows she needed him, to make the job easier if anything, but she recalled his relationship with Katarina again. It made her pause and wonder - if she told him, would the assassin simply cut her down right now? She decided it would be safer not to tell him (or anyone). Still...
Post by The Blade's Shadow on Jan 15, 2014 1:29:37 GMT -5
The assassin blinked passively, unsurprised by the sudden flare of anger in the Demacian. He could think of no reason why she would still be standing here telling him that she wanted access to his city but to gain his aid in getting there. It was no secret that he knew every way into and out of the moated city. But for the woman to want some kind of haven in Noxus. He took the briefest moment to question her sanity.
“No matter the reason, I can take you there and you know that much, though perhaps you don’t want my help. But I can think of no other reason for telling someone like myself about what should otherwise be a covert operation. Unless you’ve simply gone mad.” Talon retorted, the insult escaping his lips almost automatically. Negotiation was a strength of his only so long as the one to whom he was mediating was at the point of his armblade. Even then, it was done simply with threats of death. Too late to take it back now.
Falling silent only long enough to weigh his options, Talon watched the pair. The bird was very much like a human, in its own way. It was almost as if the raptor had been human, only to be tempered by the instinct of a predator. Unnerving to think about, at least to Talon. He spoke up to clear the silence away. “My price is simple. If I take you into my home, you take me into yours. Officially. I need to speak with Garen Crownguard and perhaps your prince as well. And I want the world to know I’ve done it.”
It was a hunch, something he had been putting on the back burner for far too long now, but he would need an escort. The Might of Demacia may not have beaten him when last they had crossed blades, but Talon was in no rush to repeat such an act. Sneaking around in the man's home seemed like a wonderful way to have a sword swung headward. An official meeting, if private, would suffice.
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