The evening seemed to be promising for the host. Not a single table in the tavern held an empty seat, men laughed, ate, drank. Here and there someone had had too much and slept on a table or slurred his speech. The wooden furnishings, shining in the light of candles and oil lamps, looked rather old. It had all gotten battered up in drunken brawls but was still in working order. Luckily this evening hadn't seen any brawls, just harmony. Only one place seemed glum, almost dangerous.

The reason for that sat alone at the bar, which everyone avoided. A red haired woman was there. She had set foot into the tavern a few hours ago and since then sat on a barstool. Apart from her repeated order for beer she said nothing. The host did nothing but follow said order wordlessly. Without ever breaking eye-contact, the woman stared into the jug, furious, bitter, almost desperate. Every guest was scared of getting even one meter too close, because they knew their life would be over if they did.

With all those daggers and knives and the cold look in her eyes, she appeared to have killed many with exactly these blades. But what nobody could know, she didn't intend to hurt anyone tonight. She didn't want to hurt anyone. Though she was aware herself: if one didn't leave her alone, the night would see bloodshed.

"Host, one more", her voice was relatively low for a woman's, almost threateningly so.

Without a word he placed the jug in front of her. She took a sip, then buried her face in her hands again. A sigh. Through all his experience the host could see she had been through a lot, however knew it was wrong to approach her about it. He was a man of good nature and always wanted to support his guests, but he didn't have a death wish. Therefore he did nothing but serve her one beer after the other and hoped no drunkard would be dumb enough to approach her.

It was little short of a miracle no one already had approached her, because one thing was certain: she was pretty. With the long red hair, the fair skin and the green eyes she could be considered a beauty, whereas bizarrely the image wasn't ruined by the long scar, which ran over her left eye. If anything the scar suited her. Altogether she was a very good-looking woman, if it weren't for that deadly aura surrounding her.

Oh, this is- She sighed. Where should I go now? What was I even thinking? Probably nothing. Nothing at all. Just like back then. Actually I deserve another scar like that. Maybe that'll remind me not to do something like that again. Well done, Katarina, acting out of emotions again without thinking. Maybe Darius was right. Women shouldn't become assassins. Too emotional or whatever it was he said. Sometimes I think I'm even dumber than Drav-

Suddenly there was a jolt.

"How the hell do you even dare?!", the assassin span around, dagger in hand, rage flashing in her eyes. But as fast as fast as she had moved, a rough paw held her arm in place. "Now, now, little one. We don't wanna hurt ourselves with that knife, now do we?" This- She grit her teeth to calm down, then looked up. In front of her stood a large white lion with a braided mane and an eye patch, grinning at her. The shoulder pieces, the knives on his left paw and the machete made him appear even beefier.

"I'm sorry to have bumped into you but it's kinda hard to get through here without knocking something down or jostling someone." "Hmph!" The, in comparison, small woman tore her arm away and sat down at the bar again, fuming.

"Whatever. Just watch your step. I don't want to end anyone's life tonight, even though I don't dread it..." The sentence was left open. As she took a sip from her jug, she felt someone seating himself next to her.

"The usual", murmured the lion. The host nodded with a small smile and placed a jug with a white liquid in front of the big cat. Automatically Katarina's brows raised a bit at the sight. Really? Milk? An amused snort got the lion's attention.

He considered the assassin with a huffy glance, before he dedicated himself to his jug. A slobbering noise, a not even one second visible tongue and the redhead looked at the big cat in disbelief. Said one noticed the look, wherefore he glimpsed back questioningly. Katarina laughed out loud. The moustache of milk on the lion's muzzle had been too much.

The predator cracked a smile. "My name is Rengar by the way." Puzzled she examined the mount of fur next to her. She didn't know what had caused him to introduce himself so suddenly, but she had the feeling a little chatter couldn't harm. Something about him seemed trustworthy. She couldn't help but defer to a conversation.

"Katarina."

"So, Katarina", Rengar began, "What made a pretty girl like you drink alone in a tavern. Shouldn't a young thing like you have a companion?"

She gave him a smug smile. "As you may guess, I can take care of myself, kitten. And what I do here alone, is none of you business."

"Oho, cutie!" -The host wheeled around looking shocked at the two.- "Big words for a dwarf like you", Rengar grinned – as far as grinning was possible with a muzzle.

Enraged the assassin sprang to her feet. "Watch your mouth! You don't even know who you're dealing with! I should stab you at once and let your insides get sight of the daylight! How dare yo-"

In a flash she was sitting again and hiding as good as possible. The tavern's door had opened. The lion understood immediately. He put some gold on top of the bar, enough for the two of them, before he took hold of Katarina's arm without a word, excused himself to the host and left the tavern through the back door. Barely on the street he tore around the next corner, along alleys, past boxes and barrels. If he didn't haul the young woman behind him, she wouldn't be able to keep up. Streetlights shined on old house's walls, illuminated alley entries and roads. Hasty steps carved their way through long shadows. People, who saw the two running, probably asked themselves what had gotten into them.

The next moment Rengar dragged his 'companion' around a corner and both of them disappeared in darkness.

Coming to a stop in the narrow alleyway, Rengar turned to the redhead. With a serious expression he looked at her.

"Why are you wanted, Katarina?"

"That's none o-"

"Don't start with that 'That's none of you business'! I want to know what happened and why you're being sought. And you will tell me. No backtalk."

Katarina averted his gaze, looked everywhere but at him. "Actually nothing really happened, no big deal", she shrugged it off.

"Don't tell me any stories, girl, I smell your fear."

In the insight denying her past would not get her anywhere she admitted defeat. She positioned herself on a wooden box next to the wall. All at once the assassin appeared to be way more vulnerable and smaller than before, how she stared into her lap where she played with a little knife in her hand.

"I killed Grand General Swain of Noxus", came the muttered response.

"You did what?", growled Rengar disbelievingly. "But why would you do that?" He saw a small tear fall onto her knife.

"He killed my father."

The animal placed himself on the floor in front of her. "Why should Grand General Swain kill your father? Who was your father?"

She gave him a distorted smile. "My father was General DuCouteau."

"WHAT?", Rengar exclaimed, "Marcus is dead? And I didn't even know he had a daughter."

Now Katarina's expression turned dumbfounded.

"You knew my father? Where from?"

Thereupon the mount of fur explained: "Till a few months ago I regularly met him at the 'Hasty Hammer' in Kalamanda for a drink. We ran across each other a few years ago here and became friends. But he never told me he had a daughter."

"Two daughters and an adoptive son", the redhead corrected.

The lion's face slipped. "This bastard! Friends for over twenty years and this fool doesn't even tell me he has three children! Not just a daughter, no, but three children. Three!"

Katarina brought out a little laugh.

"Whatever", the big cat shrugged his annoyance off, "What about your siblings now?"

The young DuCouteau sighed. "Cassiopeia would surely be at home and Talon should hang around somewhere in Noxus' shadows. LeBlanc doesn't really have something on those two. I'm aware that she wants all three of us dead, but now that she's in power she has to mind her reputation."

"LeBlanc is in power? Isn't that the deceiver? Marcus told me about her, said she couldn't be trusted."

Rengar's ears were up in curiosity.

The assassin laughed bitterly. "Believe me, one who trusts this woman is dead faster than they can say her name. Anyhow she recognised me when I killed Swain and now that she's Grand General, I can't go back. Of course, I could live at the League of Legends but I kinda have the feeling that LeBlanc will only wait for me there and get rid of me."

Rengar eyed her for a moment then came to a decision. "You'll stay with me. That's the least I can do for my old friend."