Katarina watched Garen walk towards his horse, she knew he was going to leave and she couldn't stop him. She knew it must have been hard on him but she understood he had to be with his sister, she would do the same. Though it didn't make the situation any easier. Katarina slipped into the trees before Garen turned back around, she decided the faster she could solve her father's disappearance and bring him back to Noxus, the sooner she could see the Demacian again. If my family could see me now she thought to herself, she's risking her life for them, but they would more likely than not have her killed for being so close to the commander. Garen seemed to be the only one who did not care about her allegiance or duty.

Kat shook her head, sheathing her blades on her back as she rode through the thick woods back to Noxus, changing her train of thought to what she was going to do when she arrived.

The journey back was long and hard. She had no issues overcoming physical obstacles, but battling emotions and mental obstacles was something she had not had to deal with since her youth. She ran her fingers down the scar that crossed her eye, which was supposed to be a reminder to not let her passion control her actions. She let a small grin form on her lips, thinking about how little good that did the past couple months.

The assassin crested a hill, which at its peak revealed the Immortal Bastion, the capital of Noxus. The Citadel was once home to a tyrant known as Mordekaiser but now served as the Noxian empire's residence of power. Victory shook his head and snorted at the sight, growing uneasy.

"Easy there Vic', it's alright." Katarina reassured the horse, leaning over and giving him a few pats on the side of his neck to calm him down. Had it been anyone else, Victory would likely have refused to go any further, but he had somehow bonded deeply with the Noxian over their journey. Katarina took heart in her new companion, the only thing she had with her that reminded her of the Demacian she left behind in the forest. As the horse walked with her on it's saddle to the capital, she let herself think back on that day for just a moment, it seemed just like yesterday when they had fallen asleep together in the Tavern at Jandelle. The idea of living a simple life crossed her mind, but she knew deep down, she enjoyed what she did. She was an assassin, a killer, and she loved it.

Katarina approached the gates atop her black steed, looking up at the guard who stood watch atop the battlements. The man regarded her for a moment.

"Katarina Du Couteau!? We thought you had died!" the soldier yelled.

"Great! Now open the damn gate!" Katarina shouted back in irritation.

After a few moments of silence, the gate's portcullis began to lift up to the sound of grinding gears, and the assassin ushered the weary horse into a canter past the gate before it even fully raised. Victory kept up his brisk pace through the city streets, which resembled more of a fortress than an actual city. What were ordinary buildings looked like battlements and defensive positions in case of an invasion, a stark contrast to that of Demacia. The streets were comprised of stone and dirt, not very well maintained until you got closer to the seat of power or the more wealthier districts. There were also many levels to the city, bridges crossing overhead that would also act as ramparts in a siege casting shadows across the lower levels.

For someone who was new to the city, it could be dangerous making your way through, go down the wrong alley, or run into the wrong group of people and your day could end a lot sooner than you'd like. For Katarina this was not really a problem, not only did she know the city like the back of her own hand, she was the trouble that you'd run into. She weaved through the dark and gritty streets of the Immortal Bastion to the Ivory Ward, a district home to the more powerful and wealthier families of Noxus.

This particular section of the city was secured with a black iron fence topped with spikes circling the entire quarter.

As Katarina approached the gate, the soldier next to her squinted his eyes to make sure he was not seeing things. He was clad in typical Noxian armor, dark steel with a red cloak, holding a long two-handed pike vertically in his right hand, the butt end flat against the stone road. Katarina knew who he was, there was only a handful of guards that were rotated in and out of the Ivory Ward's watch, this guy's name was Seran. She never liked the way he looked at her as she passed by.

"Ah, Miss Du Couteau. Interesting rumors going around." the man jested, she could feel his irritating stare from his helmets slit.

"I'm NOT in the mood for your shit today, Seran, just open the damn gate." she sneered, even Victory let out an irritated snort towards the man, which made the guard jump slightly.

Seran glared at the horse for a moment, before turning around and leaning his pike against the fence, muttering something under his breath.

He snatched a ring with two keys hanging from it off his belt, and moved to the front of the gate, pushing the key into the lock and twisting it earning a resounding click as it unlocked. As he pulled the gate open, he looked back at Katarina curiously.

"Where did you get it anyway? Never seen you leave with one?" Seran asked, giving the healthy animal a once over.

"I stole it." she answered curtly, before clicking her tongue and urging Victory passed the guard, kicking up dirt into the man's armor. She grinned as he heard him cursing in the distance behind her.

She slowed Vic' down to a walk as she came upon the pathway to her family's Manor that veered off from the main road through the district. It was a narrow dirt path that curved to the right through a grass field. The track was adorned with bushes and statues of great assassins that never had their names remembered by the masses, but revered in secret by those her father had taught beneath him.

She could see the sun setting over the walls of the castle to the west as she finally made it to the front door of the estate, the clouds were glowing bright red and orange.

She slid off the saddle and landed on the grass beneath her and took a moment to stretch her arms and legs, having been on horseback the entire day. She felt Victory poke his nose into her back, causing her to turn around. She let herself smile softly, and tugged on the fingers of her gloves to pull them off. She tossed them over onto the steps by the front door before running her soft fingers across the animal's neck, scratching and stroking his fur. She closed her eyes and let herself think of him, something she had not let herself do for the final few days of the trip. She could see him as if he were right there in front of her... Short, russet hair, bangs dangling just above his forehead, bright ice blue eyes that were always filled with determination. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, looking back up at Victory.

"Let's get you out of all this, you must be sick of it by now huh?" Katarina said with a grin as she went about removing the saddle and bridle.

She left Victory alone in the field of the estate, she figured there was more than enough for him to graze on. Katarina gripped onto the doorknob and attempted to turn it but realized it was locked. Hmm, guess the servants all went home already, it is late, she thought to herself again. She dug into a small pouch located on her hip and yanked out a key and unlocked the door.

The Du Couteau manor was not much different than the rest of Noxus, the roof looking as though archers could use its battlements like that of a castle wall, the exterior of the building was built of thick grey stone, and the door a hard dark wood. Upon entrance, the interior was elegant in every way you'd expect an estate of a wealthy family to look.

Katarina pushed open the door and stepped inside, the house was dark, not a single candle was lit. Odd, she thought. The front door of the house led into a small room, with a long hall on the other side that led to the other rooms of the manor, on her left there was a coat rack, then further along the wall, a chair and a small circular table that had an unlit candle sat atop it. Katarina moved over to the table, furrowing her eyebrows as she ran the tip of her index finger along its surface. She rubbed her finger and her thumb together and was disturbed at how dusty that table had been, nobody must have been here for a while. Then where's Talon? The Assassin worried to herself.

Katarina pulled open the small drawer underneath the table, and pulled out a tinderbox, setting it on the table, it began to get hard to see in the small room as the sun was setting further behind the castle walls, letting less light seep in through the window. She opened up the box and took out the firesteel and flint, igniting the candle on the desk.

She left the box and its contents across the desk and picked up the candle by its base, using it to light her way through the rest of the manor.

It became more evident that no one had been here for a while as she navigated down the hallway, lighting all the other candles throughout the estate on the way. Nearly everything had been covered in a thin layer of dust. She entered the kitchen and the smell of rotten food made her grimace, and she quickly retreated back into the hall. Feeling weary, she decided to head to her room on the second floor of the manor. The stairs creaked as she made her way up to the top, coming upon another long hall, a small red carpet ran down the middle. The wall on the right of the hall was covered in a long string of painted glass windows.

Katarina continued lighting the candles down the hall until she arrived at the entrance to her bedroom. She twisted the doorknob and stepped into the dark and dusty room, she could navigate her room even if she didn't have a light, something she taught herself to do in case anyone was stupid enough to try and kill her in her own house. But since she does like to see where she is going and what she is doing Katarina moved to her nightstand and lit the candle there with the one in her hand.

As the room lit up, she took a moment to look around, and surely enough the place had been untouched, seemingly longer than the rest of the manor, guess everyone knew better than to mess with her things.

Katarina had been on the road for around a month in total, without a change of clothes or taking a bath of any sort, so when she lifted up her cropped jacket and stuck her nose near her underarm, she sorely regretted it.

The assassin moved about her room, finding a clean pair of clothes that were exact replicas of what she was currently wearing and tossed them onto her bed. She began to strip herself of all her grimy clothing and let it fall into a dirty heap on the floor as she moved into the bathroom adjacent to her bedroom. She leaned her dual-daggers against the edge of the tub, can never be too careful, she thought.

A moment of worry coursed through her, wondering if they still had water running to the building, but was delighted at the stream of clean water that flowed out of the bathtub's faucet after spinning the knob. Most places within the city would not have running water like this, but this is one of the privileges of living in a wealthy family. The house also had a heater her father had imported from Piltover so they could always have hot water.

Katarina slipped into the hot water, she could already feel the stress and soreness melting away. She sunk her whole body beneath the water so just her nose and up was above the surface. As she closed her eyes, she was met with the image of Garen's lingering stare before she had left. Her whole trip after separating with him she didn't let herself think of the Demacian, focusing on making it back home fast, and alive. She couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking of her at this moment as well.

After what was probably an hour of laying in the tub, Katarina finally willed herself to climb out, her skin feeling pruney after such a long time in the water. She collected her blades and a towel hanging off a rack on the left of the tub before moving back to the bedroom. Katarina carelessly tossed the two daggers onto the bed, and dried herself off, her hair that reached down to her lower back was always time-consuming to properly dry.

Typically, when she was home Katarina wouldn't mind going to sleep in something more comfortable, but with how her home had been abandoned, and no sight of Talon, she decided she wanted to be ready in case of an intrusion. So the assassin dressed up in her usual getup and laid down across her bed over the covers, blades at her sides as she finally let herself become consumed by her dreams.

Morning came, and Katarina found herself waking up in her room which was pitch black, the candles having had burned out through the night, and she had no windows. She didn't much care for the view of Noxus, and only really saw windows as an exploit for an assassin to use.

She sprung out of bed and gathered her things, sheathing her weapons on her back, and ensuring the rest of her gear was buckled snugly to her. Satisfied, she pushed out into the hall and began her way out of the house. When suddenly she could hear a loud grumble from her stomach, reminding her that she was, in fact, starving, remembering that all the food here had gone bad, she decided she would have to find something in the city while she was out.

The assassin decided her next course of action was to figure out Talon's whereabouts, or fate... So she was going to try and meet up with all of her contacts within Noxus, those connected to the underground black market and street gangs. As well as those who have ears and eyes in the political realm of Noxus. Surely someone has heard or seen something about Talon.

Katarina departed out the front door of the estate and smiled at the sight of Victory prancing around the field energetically, and upon spotting the Noxian woman made his way over to her. He stuck his nose into her side as she walked onto the field to meet him halfway, she knew by now this is his way of wanting some attention in the form of pats and scratches, she happily obliged. She could tell his coat was filthy and he was going to need a lot of work after such an extensive journey, his hooves were thick with hardened mud, and his coat was slick with dirt and grime.

"Ugh, I'm gonna have to pick some stuff up for you in the city too I guess, alright. Let's get you ready to go." she said halfheartedly, the idea of taking care of an animal and grooming it sounded like an unwanted chore, but for Victory, she was willing to do it.

She retrieved the saddle and bridle for the animal and got the horse properly equipped, the same way she had watched Garen do it back at his estate, the memory giving her a welcoming warmness throughout her body.

She hopped onto Victory's back and ushered him down the dirt path and to the gate that protected her area of the city from the rest of it's more dubious citizens.

It wasn't Saren at the gate this time, it was another guard she had never seen before, strange, she thought. And as he wordlessly opened the gate for her, he gave her the coldest stare that made her feel uneasy. She shook her head, and Victory trotted her into the city.

They made their way past stalls with merchants peddling goods from food, and spices, to things like axes and swords. She was making her way to a Tavern that one of her most trusted friends and contacts frequented, Katarina knew that she could always find him there if he knew she was looking for him.

Katarina couldn't help but feel like she was being watched, whether it was the lingering gaze of strangers hanging out in alleys as she passed, or maybe other she could not see lurking in shadows. She continued anyway, if anyone wanted to try anything on her it would not end well for them.

After passing a few brothels and drug dens she came upon the tavern called, Old Patchy's Saloon, she tethered Victory to a post outside the tavern, and made her way up the steps and through the front doors. Even at this early time of day, the place was packed with those already drunk beyond reason, and it seems as though she had just missed what looked like a brawl in the corner of the establishment. It felt like her boots were sticking to the floorboards as she walked over to the bar table.

Manning the bar was a man named Logan, who looked as if he must be in his late fifties. He had short buzzcut black hair, and an eyepatch over his right eye. He was well over six feet tall and still well built for his age after a lifetime of war. He wore a black leather vest and black pants, exposing his muscular arms which were covered in various battle scars.

The bar was in the middle of the building, it was shaped in a U where the open end led into the kitchen, and the bar was surrounded by patrons and stools on each side. Logan was talking to a short fat man with white hair on the other side of the bar when Katarina approached behind him.

Katarina sat down on an empty stool behind Logan, and looked down at the dirty bar table, she found a good sized crumb from a food she didn't recognize and flicked it at the back of his head.

Logan stopped talking immediately and began to slowly turn around with a look on his face as if he was going to murder the perpetrator, which turned into a wry grin at the sight of Katarina, who returned the same smile back to the man.

"Spirits, Kat.. If it were anyone else sitting in that seat..." he let out with a chuckle, but his expression quickly changed to one of worry, he looked side to side and leaned in towards Katarina slightly. "Word has been going around that you were dead, I was actually starting to believe it too. Where the hell have you been?" he asked in concern.

Katarina simply smirked for a moment before answering, "Really have that little faith in me? And aren't you gonna offer me a drink? I've been out in the damn woods for weeks." the assassin answered jokingly.

Logan rolled his eye, running his right hand through his buzzed hair. "Shit's not funny, I've had some shady fellows in here not too long ago asking about you too." he answered as he leaned down slightly, pulling a mug out from under the table.

"Hmm, have you seen my brother at all lately?" she asked, watching Logan begin to pour a bottle of Myran's Dark Ale into the mug up to its rim.

Logan perked the eyebrow up above his good eye, as he looked up at her, nudging the mug towards her. "Talon? Yeah, actually, he came in here maybe a little over a month ago? Haven't seen him since though."

"Well I'm looking for him, did he seem off to you or anything, like something might be wrong?" she questioned, and took the mug in her hand raising it to her lips, keeping her eyes looking up at Logan for his answer.

Logan furrowed his brows, and raised his right hand to his face, rubbing the stubble on his chin as he tried to recall.

"Uh, hard to say really... He came in here, and I asked if he wanted anything, the guy just said he was waiting for someone. Sat in the corner for a good hour I reckon, before he stormed out." he shrugged his shoulders after finishing, then looked back down at Katarina. "Everything alright with you?"

"Yeah... I'm fine... But I need to talk to Jarik. Think you can let him know I'm back and lookin' for him?" she pleaded.

Logan let out a sigh of exasperation before speaking, "You know I don't like that con-"

"Please, Logan... It's really important, I know how much you don't like him, but he might have info I need." she said as she gave him her best puppy eye look.

Logan stared back at her. "Damn it, fine Kat, but if he causes any shit here that's on you, got it?" he stated, looking back at her expectingly.

Katarina raised the mug to her lips once again, tilting her head back as she slammed the rest the ale, before smacking the mug down on the table.

"Okay, fine by me." she answered, sliding the empty mug back towards Logan as she rose from her stool.

"I'll be back here tonight, just after dark, also, can you keep an eye on that horse out there, he's mine, name's Victory?" she continued, as she took a few steps backward into the crowd of drunks.

"Yeah whatever, be safe out there Kat." he looked up from the mug back to Katarina but she had already vanished, he went to polishing the mug and shook his head.

For the rest of the day, Katarina went about trying to reach old contacts and was beginning to get worried as a lot of the people she was in contact with had gone missing or were just dead. She took a moment during the day to stop at a decent enough food market and got herself a nice roasted turkey leg. She began noticing herself being watched by shady hooded individuals that lurked around corners and alleys as dusk approached. After finishing her much needed and delicious meal, she tossed the bone carelessly onto the rocky street and disappeared into the crowd, making her way back to the Tavern.


"Look, this coin belonged to the Infamous pirate Sartosa, almost five hundred years ago. I stole it from an explorer that was diving off the coast of Bilgewater, and I'm giving you the deal of a lifetime. This coin his probably worth at least ten thousand gold coins. I'm offering it to you for just one thousand. You'd be a fool not take it, my friend." Jarik divulged as he sat in a bar stool across from another man who claimed to be a collector, Jarik could see right through the man and knew he was an amateur when it came to antiques and the like. Although the man's response had him vexed.

"Hmm, and why would you offer me such a deal, I've only known you for a day, I'd hardly call us friends, seems as though you take me for a fool, Jarik." the fat white-haired man from earlier that was talking to Logan replied curtly.

"Of course not! My friend, I'm just in the desperate need for some coin at the moment, I assure you, this would be an exquisite addition to your collection, which I am sure is bursting at the seams with antiques." Jarik continued, sounding a bit more desperate.

"Hmph, I will-" the fat man began to speak but was cut short.

"Five thousand." Katarina interjected, who was now sitting on the other side of the man, motioning for Logan to give her a drink.

The man raised his eyebrows and turned in his stool to face the assassin. "This conversation doesn't involve you, miss." he snorted condescendingly towards her, before looking back over to Jarik, who was now looking past the man towards Katarina.

"Five thousand? That sounds great, unless this gentleman here wants to make a bid?"

The man stared back at Jarik with disapproval.

"Going once... Going twice?" Jarik counted slowly.

"Fine! Six thousand!" the man relented.

Jarik grinned widely and stuck his hand out for a handshake. "Deal!" Jarik answered in excitement. The two men shook hands, and Jarik gave him the gold coin that had a skull with crossbones on each side no bigger than the palm of his hand, which the man exchanged for a heftily sized sack of gold.

The man took the coin, and looked over at Katarina with a smug smile on his face, and Katarina raised her hands in mock defeat before he took off.

Jarik scooched over, taking the stool previously occupied by the man who was more likely than not just conned. He looked over at the assassin who was shaking her head with a sly grin.

"So, how much was it worth really? Katarina asked curiously.

"Not even real gold, it's a tin coin, and I painted it over." he said, as he dug into the sack of gold handed to him and began counting through the coins.

"So where's my cut?" Katarina eyed Jarik, raising an eyebrow, her arms on the table holding the mug of ale in her hands.

He looked up at her from the sack of gold on his lap, his expression showed he was not sure if she was kidding or not, so he let out a hesitant laugh.

"Oh, hah, really?" he said, his confidence faltering.

"Don't worry I'm just messin' with you." she revealed before taking a swig from her mug of ale, putting Jarik at ease.

"Anyway... Heard you were looking for me, what's going on Kat?" Jarik asked, turning in the stool to face the assassin, leaning against the bar.

"Yeah... I need to find my brother Jarik, and why does everyone think I'm dead? Also, I get the feeling people are watching me wherever I go, it's starting to piss me off too." Katarina answered with irritation.

"Well, you've been gone for nearly two months Kat, and your brother shows up a little over a month ago, then disappears again, your father is gone, and your sister is missing. If I had to make a guess, someone isn't too happy with your family for some reason. Would probably be best if you laid low for a bit, yeah?" Jarik answered, he turned back towards the bar, concern etched on his face.

"Something you're not telling me, Jarik." Katarina said, glaring over at her friend.

"It's just, people have been going around asking about you and Talon, and about a few weeks ago, they stopped asking about him, and just about you. These people are men loyal to Swain, I don't know what you did to piss him off, but he's not someone you want after you." Jarik warned, looking back over to Katarina

"I'm not someone you want after you either, Jarik." she spat, "Damn it Talon, what did you do." she continued, looking down at the mug resting in her hands on the bar.

"What the hell is going on, Kat?" he pried, leaning closer.

Katarina looked over at him and stared back for a few moments before answering, "Look, if you could just ask around about my brother, and what Swain wants with me, then I'll tell you everything, can you do that for me?" Katarina pleaded, glancing up to Jarik.

Jarik sighed, then nodded, "Okay... But-"

Jarik was interrupted as the door that served as the front entrance to the bar swung open, followed by several men that were dressed in all black clothing, with hoods pulled up over their heads. They were all also armed with a variety of weapons ranging from axes to daggers or swords.

"Just look forward." Katarina whispered to Jarik, as she remained facing towards the bar and took another sip from her drink. Jarik obliged, and turned back towards the bar.

Logan stared back at the men, never letting his gaze off them as they slowly filtered into the crowd of patrons, making their way to where Katarina was sitting. He reached under the table, and gripped onto the handle of his large two-handed axe he kept for situations like these.

Katarina could feel the hair raising on her arms as one of the hooded men stood behind her.

"Miss Du Couteau?" the man asked in a gravelly voice, his hands resting on the pommels of two elegant looking daggers sheathed on either hip.

"Who's asking?" Katarina replied, not bothering to turn around.

"You need to come with us." he answered flatly, as a few of his other goons moved up to his flanks.

"Sorry man, not interested. Now I suggest you leave me alone." she warned.

"I think you should listen to the lady, now leave." Logan demanded from behind the bar, his grip tightening on his axe, a few of Logan's old army friends noticed the confrontation and moved up next to the bar as well, a bunch of veterans with the scars and attitudes to show for it.

The man standing behind Katarina with the daggers briefly looked around at the gathering crowd, but seemed unphased, looking back down to Katarina.

"I wasn't asking." the man reached down and planted his hand on her shoulder to pull her out of the stool, which was met with a spin of blinding speed finishing with an open palm to the man's face, sending him falling back into another group of patrons.

The man he stumbled into turned around slowly, revealing that he just had his drink spilled all over his shirt, and sent a punch towards him, which he narrowly evaded, landing in another bar goer's face that was just passing by. In mere seconds, the entire bar erupted into chaos, drinks, and chairs flying as men brawled with each other.

In the meantime, Katarina, Logan and his friends jumped into the fray with the thugs that entered the bar for the assassin. It wasn't long before blood began to cover the already dirty floor of the Noxian pub. Katarina was in her element, weaving through the crowd and lacerating tendons and vitals sending a couple of the thugs down to the floor in agony, which she would quickly end with a blade gliding across their throats.

Logan and his friends were going toe to toe with the rest, but the pub goers could only do so much to what turned out to be trained assassins. Quickly a few of Logan's friends were cut down by the dual dagger wielding thug, who was now bleeding from what looked like a broken nose. Logan decided he would take care of this man himself, and the two circled one another through the madness that had overcome the tavern, knocking whoever got in their way aside.

Jarik had already slipped out the front door soon after the fighting started, not considering himself a fighter.

Logan took a wide swing towards the dagger-wielding assassin, who merely ducked the swing. He huffed and swung again, and again, finding nothing but air, and nearly cleaving the head of another man that was slamming another man's face into a chair. Logan could feel himself running out of breath, and the axe began to feel heavier in his hands, and yet his opponent was not even breathing heavy at all, not even attempting a single strike throughout the whole fight.

"Stop running and fight me coward!" Logan shouted out in frustration and barreled towards him, axe up high and ready to come down on the assassin with a powerful downward strike.

The assassin stepped aside, letting his dagger's edge slide across Logan's armpit, opening a vital artery causing blood to spray out all over the floor. Logan dropped his axe, and looked at the wound that was oozing out blood steadily. He tensed his jaw and looked over at the assassin who was now standing several feet away with a stoic expression on his face. Logan threw down his axe and charged the man once again, this time Logan was met with the point of the assassin's blade jamming into his gut, but that didn't stop him. Logan gripped the man by the throat, who was now widening his eyes in surprise, before choke slamming him down onto the floor. The assassin's daggers went flying to either side of him out of reach, as Logan kneeled down on top of him, wrapping his massive hands around his throat.

Logan was now bleeding from a vital cut under his arm, and a puncture wound in his stomach and his vision was starting to get blurry. The assassin could feel the bigger man's strength begin to wane, and sent a few punches into Logan's stomach wound, causing him to buckle and fall off the smaller assassin. Now the two men lay next to each other on the bloody floor, Logan grunting in pain, as he continues to bleed out, and the assassin gasping for air.

The assassin began crawling for his dagger on the floor of the tavern, and just as he was about to grab it, two men that were trading blows to the face stumbled towards him and kicked it even further away. Then suddenly he felt Logan's grip on his ankle and was dragged back over then picked up by the back of his collar. Logan tossed the man across the room, sending him crashing into a table and chairs. The assassin lay there in a heap of splintered wood trying to regain his composure. Logan began to stomp towards him, but after losing so much blood combined with physical exertion, he collapsed onto the floor.

Katarina just finished slitting the last of the thug's throats from behind, and watched him drop down to the floor choking on his own blood, but looked up only to see her friend Logan also lying down in a pool of his own blood as well.

"Logan!" she shouted and sprinted over to him to kneel down.

"Damn it Logan get up, come on." she begged and then looked over his injuries, noticing the deep cut to his armpit and the stab to his stomach, there was no saving him.

Her eyes darted around the tavern that was now in complete shambles, and spotted the group's leader, stumbling out the front door.

She rose to her feet swiftly and pushed through the crowd towards the door after him, evading punches and thrown chairs going across the bar as the brawl continued. She burst out the front door and then jumped down the steps, the road was dark, and only the dim light of hanging lanterns along the road lit it up slightly. Standing in the dim light were another twenty or so cloaked individuals, all armed with blunt weapons, the ringleader from inside was standing at the front of them staring her down.

"Take her alive." the leader said, and the men around him began to slowly advance towards her.

Katarina tightened her grip on the twin blades between her fingers as she figured the chances of winning. The noise of splintering wood drew her attention to the left, as she spotted victory pulling free from the old post he was tied to, and booked it in her direction. She jumped into the air, landing on Victory's saddle as he rode past without stopping.

"Good boy." she said, leaning down to give the horse a pat when suddenly the horse yelped and fell crashing down onto the rocky dirt path, sending her rolling on the street next to him.

Katarina groaned in pain, holding her elbow that was now bleeding through torn cloth from a scrape wound. Then the realization struck her, and she gazed down to Victory who was now laying on the road motionless, apart from the rapid rising and falling of his chest.

"Victory!" she screamed, scrambling over to the fallen animal on her hands and knees. There was a spear lodged in the shoulder of his front left leg.

Her eyes began to fill with tears as Victory huffed and snorted, she could feel the horses gaze on her as if he was asking for help.

"No no no no..." she whimpered, and rested a hand on his neck, "I'm so sorry...", she slowly turned her head to the side, hearing their leader's voice shouting, "There we go, now go get her!" he said, smacking his hands together as if he was proud of his work. She felt her blood begin to boil, her remorse and sadness converting to pure rage. She knew she could not defeat them all, but all she wanted to do was kill one of them.

Blinded by anger, she collected her weapons off the road and charged the group of thugs that heavily outnumbered her. She dropped into a slide as she ran into the front of the group, sliding right between the first man's legs, letting her swords cut straight through his groin. She came up to her feet on the other side, parrying a staff and a club as she twirled herself in a graceful circle, the parries turning to fatal cuts to the other surrounding goons.

The last time she let her emotions and passion control her earned Katarina a scar across her left eye, serving as a reminder to never let it happen again. And tonight history would repeat itself. Katarina saw the leader, the man responsible for the death of her friend Logan, and now a horse that held a very special place in her heart. Forgetting about her surroundings, Katarina charged the man but was quickly met with a bow staff smacking across the back of her head, sending her into the street dazed.

The blow was followed up by a kick to her stomach from another man, knocking the air from her lungs. She keeled over onto the street, dropping her weapons and holding onto her midsection. She then felt the heel of a boot connect with the side of her face, nearly knocking her unconscious.

"Enough! Tie her up and put her in the cart, Swain wants her alive." the leader demanded as he wiped some blood from his broken nose.

Katarina was pushed onto her stomach and could feel her hands pinned behind her back as another began to tightly tie a rope around them, and the same for her ankles. Her weapons and daggers were all stripped off of her, and a cloth was wrapped around her mouth, tied in the back effectively gagging her. Slowly she was able to regain her strength, but it was too late to do much now, she tried to scream muffled curses at the men picking her up, and thrashed violently in their grasp.

The man carrying her opened the door to a carriage and pushed her inside, laying her down on the floor, while the leader and two others entered in as well, sitting down in seats on either side of her.

"Spirits, someone shut her up?" the leader complained, to which another kick to Katarina's head knocked her out.

Katarina slowly opened her eyes, she groaned as she felt her head along with the rest of her body throbbing in pain. She tried to move but her wrists were tied together around the back of a chair, and her ankles tied to the legs of it, her mouth was still gagged as well. She blinked a few times and slowly looked around, realizing she was being held in some sort of dungeon. The walls were all stone, except for the steel bars separating her cell from the rest of the dungeon.

"Oh, you're awake, finally." a familiar voice called out several feet from the cell bars.

Katarina squinted, trying to see through the darkness on the other side, instantly realizing who it was at the sight of the glowing red arm shining out from under his coat.

"Mmmmph!" Katarina squirmed within her binds, she tried to ask Swain what the hell was going on, but all that she could get through her gag was muffled noises.

Swain swung the cell door open, and slowly walked inside, and began to walk around the assassin tied to the chair.

"Your family has been quite a thorn in my side, Katarina... I think it's time I put your... Talents... To work for me." he announced, pausing for a moment as he continued to circle her slowly.

"I'm going to remove your gag, you can scream if you like, but nobody will hear you down here... Except me, and I really do not feel like listening to that right now." Swain informed before untying the gag tied around her mouth and letting it fall to the floor.

"What is this all about Swain? I've done nothing to you." Katarina snapped back.

Swain circled back in front of Katarina, standing a few feet away and looked down at her.

"Oh, you haven't, not yet at least. But first, your father... Stealing something very precious to me and leaving... Afraid he didn't get far though. And then your brother tried to take my life not too long ago shortly after returning here. Again, another failure. And then you show up, and start asking questions." Swain answered plainly, he watched the assassin for her reaction.

Katarina pulled against the binds on her wrists, causing the fabric to dig into her skin and turn them red. She tensed her jaw and glared up at Swain.

"Where's my family, Swain. I swear on all the gods that if you hurt them, I will kill you." she promised through gritted teeth.

"Bold words, given your current state, Miss Du Couteau. Don't worry, your father and brother are both alive... For now. If you want to keep it that way, you are going to have to help me with a few things." Swain explained casually.

"And if I refuse?" Katarina asked hesitantly.

"Well, I'll have you sit there and watch, as I tear apart your father and brother in front of you slowly, before eventually doing the same to you. But why go through all of that when you could simply work for me? I could use someone with your talents." Swain disclosed and began to circle around to Katarina's back.

"I guess I don't have much of a choice." she grunted out.

"You don't." Swain said as he cut the ropes off Katarina's wrists, and dropped the knife on her lap.

Katarina rubbed her red and sore wrists for a moment, before picking up the knife and cutting the binds off her ankles as well. She looked up at Swain who was now facing away from her, looking through the bars of the cell. What an idiot, turning his back on an assassin? She thought to herself and just as she tried to jump Swain from behind with the knife, she felt her whole body tense up, and a stunningly painful migraine pushed into her head, causing her to fall to the floor, and then, it all ended as soon as it started.

Katarina looked around in shock, with no idea about what just happened, until a man dressed in elegant red robes and long blonde hair appeared.

"Vladimir, I should have guessed." Katarina hissed upon seeing him.

"Ah, no need to be rude. Especially to someone with complete control over your body now."

Vladamire was a blood mage, once he touches your blood, he can then control all of it at a whim, a very powerful and dark art. The spell was very hard to break, and only a handful of mages in Valorn would probably be capable of doing so.

Katarina began to realize just how dire her situation was, and how helpless she had become.