A/N: Sorry for taking so long for an update. I've been having inspiration problems as of late. Also just so I don't cause any confusion, this is still before the long time skip I was talking about a two chapters ago. Just more bond building in this one(Or at least more foolish attempts at bond building.) Next chapter will be in the future.

Chapter 14

A hooded figure hid in the shadows provided by the ruined buildings. He stood almost motionless, only moving when he was sure his target wouldn't notice. It was still early in the morning, and the sun was barely in view, which gave him plenty of cover to move around. The assassin stalked closer, taking careful steps towards the man who will soon become nothing more than a rotting corpse. Something bothered him though: why was his target just standing there? He didn't notice him, did he? Meh, it doesn't matter, because he was within range now. The assassin dashed to his target with speed that would rival a bullet from a pistol. He brought out his blade strapped tightly to his arm in preparation of a strike. His arm shot forth, aiming at his target's chest, but suddenly, his blade stopped mere milometers from its mark. He felt cold steel press up against his throat. Staring down the curved blade threatening to puncture his skin, he saw his target with a wide grin on his face holding the katana in his left hand. The assassin cursed in his head. He was so close.

"You almost had me, boy, but I noticed you just before you came out from the shadows" came the all familiar voice of Marcus Ducouteau. He withdrew his katana and allowed the boy to do the same.

Talon let out a puff of air out of pure disappointment, "What gave me away?"

"You're heavy breathing just before you went in," Marcus laughed, thinking back on how ridiculous the sound of breathing is.

Talon lowered his head, realizing that he took a deep breath before emerging for the kill, "Right..."

"Keep your head up. You would have succeeded if it weren't for that one inhale you took," Marcus did an about face and started for the carriage parked outside the mess of ruined buildings he used as a "training" ground for Talon. "Come, boy. We need to get back before everyone wakes up and wonders where I am."

Talon nodded and brushed off the dust on his cloak. He looked at his silver armblade before following his master, 'Next time, I'll get him for sure.'

Talon finished his refreshing shower and was on his way to the kitchen to get something in his stomach. Looking out a window, it was still fairly early in the morning. If he had to estimate the time, he would say somewhere close to five a.m. The boy pushed open the door to the kitchen and spotted his master brewing something foul smelling. It was rare to see Marcus anywhere else in the mansion other than his office, but it was his mansion so it's not like he can't go into a certain room. The general turned his head and smiled at his student assassin,

"I hope you're thirsty," he said with a small hint of excitement.

"...For what?" Talon asked. He hoped it wasn't whatever Marcus was brewing.

Marcus took an iron tea pot off the stove and set it on the counter to let it cool, "Grab a cup from the pantry over there."

Talon searched the wooden pantry before finding a glass and setting it down next to the tea pot. Marcus continued to pour a purplish liquid from the pot into the glass. He stopped when it was half full and gestured for the boy to come and drink it. Talon hesitated. It smelled. It smelled nasty, but his master wanted him to drink. He put the glass up to his lips and downed the hot liquid. He felt it burn from his mouth to his stomach and immediately set the glass down and started to cough.

"How does it taste?" Marcus asked a still coughing boy.

"Terrible," Talon managed to say in between his constant coughing. "What is that."

"A highly diluted and cooked poison called deadly nightshade," Marcus said as he took the glass and the tea pot to the sink to wash out any leftover poison.

"You poisoned me?" Talon asked. He started to feel a bit weaker now. Must be the effects.

"You'll survive. You drank enough to where you'll feel what it will do to you, but just under the point where it will kill you."

Talon was about to question the point of drinking poison, but he realized what his master was doing, "Are you making me immune?"

"That's the plan. Nightshade is one of the most commonly used poisons on Runeterra. They're mainly used on the tips of arrows, but you may also find them in your drink or food," Marcus finished washing the poisoned dishes and handed the assassin a glass of water.

Talon felt something come up into his throat, but forced it back down with a gulp of the water, "So how long will the effects last?"

"You should be fine in a couple hours. And tomorrow you will take another dose," Ducouteau placed a hand on Talon's shoulder as he left to his office. "Try not to barf all over my floor," he added in a somewhat humored tone.

Talon made his way up to his room to try and sleep off his new sickness. He tucked himself into his bed and closed his eyes. Ugh, Marcus's training methods will be the end of him one day. All this hardcore life or death exercises on top of executing missions that sometimes brought him as far as Freljord. 'And now he's making me take doses of poison.' But, despite all the pain he had to go through, Talon enjoyed being Marcus's personal assassin. It gave him a positive sense of duty along with having a room and a decent meal everyday. If nothing else, this "training" made him faster and more alert. Although if he were to think about one negative thing about being the General's assassin aside from all the pain he had to endure, it would be working through the Crimson Elite commanded by Jericho Swain. He couldn't really explain it, but he just can't stand taking orders from someone other than Marcus. He just didn't respect the master tactician like he did Ducouteau and the only reason he was in the Crimson Elite was because his master ordered him to. The missions handed out to him from Swain were usually of the same kind of that Marcus hands out, except they focused more on Noxus' political nonsense. 'So why can't I just follow his orders? Is respect that much of an issue?' Talon must have been thinking too hard because his head started to ring continuously. 'Damn poison,' he thought before passing out on the bed.

The boy woke up with absolutely no idea what time of day it was. He pulled off his sheets and stood up on both feet. A certain dizziness messed with his eyes as he stretched his back. He felt refreshed with no sign of the nightshade inside him, although, there was a strange rumbling in his stomach... Food! He missed breakfast, and having to fight off his sickness probably made him even more starved. He reached for the doorknob and opened it to see a young maid not too older than him standing right outside with her fist up to knock on the now open door.

"Yes?" Talon asked annoyed, but kept his voice calm.

"U-Ummm," The maid started, having a loss of words, "The master would like to see you in his office right away." She then bounced off like she had somewhere urgent she needed to be.

Talon blinked, "What a strange maid."

The assassin made his way downstairs and into his master's office, but not before grabbing something to eat first. Marcus was sitting behind his desk, as usual and was writing on forms, also usual. Ducouteau looked up to see his apprentice, as that was what he thought of him as nowadays, inside his office.

"Aren't you a sleepyhead," Marcus joked.

Talon cocked his head to the side in confusion, "How long was I asleep?"

"It's half past four, boy."

"It's been that long?" Talon asked, dumbfounded.

"Never mind that. How are you feeling? Did the poison fade?"

"I feel fine now. You have a mission for me?"

"You could think of it as a mission," he got up from his chair and headed for the wardrobe full coats and decorative weaponry. "My fellow colleagues and I will be throwing a party to celebrate a recent victory in Demacian territory, and all the upper class soldiers who made the victory possible will be invited."

"And you want me to go to this party?"

"Everyone that goes is able to bring a friend or family member. I have decided to invite you because it would be smart to familiarize yourself with these kinds of events," Marcus flipped through several coats until he spotted his dark red, embroidered coat full of shiny medals. He slipped it on and strapped a golden katana around his waist.

"Alright," Talon said while Marcus fastened his coat, "but don't you usually bring Katarina on these sort of things?"

"Yes, I do," Marcus replied as he began to look through the wardrobe for another coat, "but parties like these can get out of hand with all the alcohol and exotic dancing. The last time I brought her to a military party, I found myself having to fend off drunks from getting their hands on her," While rummaging through his wardrobe, he found one of his old uniforms from before he became a general, 'This would be interesting to see the boy in.' "Come here. I got something for you to wear at the party."

Talon strode over to the wardrobe, where Marcus gave him an extremely dark blue, hooded coat with black pants, and boots, and a couple of leather belts.

"Go put it on, then meet me at the gates."

Talon went on up to his room to put the uniform on. The coat went down to his ankles and fit nicely with the black pants and the boots. One of the belts went around his waist while the other across his chest and over the right shoulder. His coat had a gold embroidery on the edges along with gold buttons fastened on his tunic. (He is wearing Corvo's attire without the mask from a game called Dishonored. For any of you who haven't seen it, you could probably find a picture on the internet.)

Talon left his room and made his way to the front gates, where his master was waiting patiently for him. Marcus saw his apprentice wearing his old uniform and saw how well it went on him,

"What?" Talon asked, noticing the strange look he was giving him.

Marcus chuckled, "You remind me of myself when I was your age."

"It is comfortable," Talon inspected his clothes just to get a clear look at them.

"Why don't you keep it?" Marcus suggested. He never wore that uniform anymore, so why not let the boy have it?

"You're giving it to me?"

"It's a little big but you'll grow into it," Marcus pushed open the gates that led outside the mansion walls. "Now, to the party. I'd hate to keep the other generals waiting."

By the time the two finally arrived at the huge building the party was being held at, it was already packed with soldiers, generals, and others that were invited. There were people partying outside as well as inside due to being a bit crowded. Music was being played outside and exotic dancers were expressing their skills on a stage not too far from the live music. Inside the building was much different than outside. Round tables were set up out of the way with people sitting around them talking about their recent victory. A large stage in the center of the room was set for partner dancing and was currently full of them. At the end of the room, there was a long table where Talon could only guess was where the higher ups sat. Marcus entered the building with Talon close behind, the latter not knowing what to think of such a place. Many soldiers and random citizens came to greet Marcus, and every time he returned the greeting. Every now and then someone would talk Talon, who would ignore their attempts to get him to talk back.

"You should return a greeting when it's given to you," Marcus nagged.

"What's the point? They know I heard them"

"The point of a greeting is-" Marcus was interrupted by the screech of a very familiar raven.

"General Ducouteau," came the raspy voice of Swain as he approached.

"General Swain," greeted Marcus.

Swain looked around his colleague and spotted the Crimson Elite member casually looking at him like he was just another citizen, "You brought the kid."

"His name is Talon," Marcus growled. "And I see you brought your bird."

"Her name is Beatrice," Swain raged back. "Ahem, I'd hate to spoil your mood, but-" Swain leaned in a bit and whispered only loud enough for Marcus to hear, "I need to see you and the other generals- in private."

Marcus nodded and let Swain take his leave into a room in the back of the building, "Listen," he said, turning to Talon, "I'm going to have to leave for a bit to discuss something with the other generals."

"What do you want me to do?" Talon asked, truly lost.

"It's a party, boy," Marcus laughed, "Just have fun," he started heading in the direction Swain went in. "Oh, and take your hood off," he added.

"Fun..." Talon mumbled, brushing his hood off with his hand. "How can I have fun around people who are twice my age and just want to talk about politics?"

The assassin made his way to the least crowded area of the room which was surprisingly near the refreshment table. He leaned up against a nearby wall and watched the couples dance on the stage. He mused on how pointless dancing seemed to him. Just two people holding each other close and taking steps in a circular-

"Champagne?" asked a maid holding a tray of wine glasses filled with what Talon guessed was champagne.

He just shook his head side to side and let the maid move on. Champagne was alcoholic, right? And his master always told him that alcohol will weaken your mind, and in time weaken you. Now he was taken back to this morning, when he was fed poison. He could still taste the damn liquid on his tongue. Speaking of drinks, there was a very awkward looking man by the refreshment table drinking to no end. And there was another, less awkward looking man trying to keep him from drinking more. Talon squinted to try and get a better look at them. They were both wearing military uniforms. One of them had several badges while the other had nothing shiny on at all. The one without the any badges looked strangely familiar, though. The mustache that drooped off his face was- oh no.

"Quite drinking, Draven," ordered the man that was trying to get him to stop. "Eight glasses is enough."

"Oh no Darius!" Draven retorted. "Draven's gonna beat the record of glasses of wine drank in a single minute!"

"That's ridiculous! There isn't even a record for that."

"Yes there is," he downed another glass of wine. "Last party I was invited to, I managed to down fifteen shots."

"I'm starting to doubt my decision to bring you with me," Darius completely gave up trying to drag his brother from the refreshment table and began waiting for him to pass out from all the wine.

"Sixteen!" Draven yelled as loud as he could before falling onto the floor. Snoring and mumbling something on the lines of "Welcome to Draven's world, where the most popular man around is me."

Darius shoo'd the crowd that gathered around his brother before delivering a massive punch to his gut, "Wake up! He boomed.

The executioner woke up with a yelp and quickly stumbled to his feet, "The hell you punch me for?"

"Would you prefer me to dunk you in ice cold water?"

"Yes."

…

Talon smirked at the two and how stupid they looked. He felt a tad bit sorry for Darius however, having to put up with a brother like him, but then again, Draven could be able to run the patience of even the calmest person on Valoran. 'I'd love to see Swain put up with him,'

"Hey Darius," Draven started, "It's that kid again." He pointed a finger at Talon and Darius looked up to see him.

'...Dammit.'

"What kid?" Darius asked, not recognizing the boy Draven was pointing to.

"One of my adoring fans. I swear, he follows me everywhere. Hey, kid!" Draven shouted. "What's your name? Mellon?"

"...Talon," The assassin corrected.

"Close enough," Draven approached Talon acting all high and mighty as if he was above everyone else. "So are you here just because you wanted to see me?"

"...I'm here because I was told to come."

"Now that you mention it," Darius intervened, following his brother to the kid. "He does look familiar."

"Huh? Well yeah! He's my biggest fan."

"You idiot!" Darius spat when something in his brain clicked. "That's one of the street kids we had to arrest last year!"

Draven scrunched up his face in utter confusion. Then it suddenly clicked for him as well and he pointed a finger at Talon, "Oooooooohhh!" he said, forming an "O" shape with his lips. "You're that kid that embarrassed me in front of all my fans during that one execution!" Draven said it so loud that it caused a couple people to look over at the noise.

"So what if I am?" Talon said coolly.

"What are you doing here?" Darius questioned in his deep toned voice. "Stealing yourself a meal?"

"Do I look like I'm hungry?"

"DRAVEN IS SOOOO GONNA MAKE YOU PAY!"

"Please. Would killing someone here be such a good idea?" Talon said, outsmarting both brothers.

"I...I," Draven suddenly lost all his fury, "Damn kid. Staying in a place where you know we can't get you."

"Hold on, Draven," Darius whispered in his brother's ear, "We'll just report this to a higher up. Then get ordered to kill him here."

Draven showed his signature smile and turned to Talon, "Stay put. When we get back, we'll kill ya."

"Don't tell him!" Darius raged. "Now he knows our plan."

"Well excuse me for telling him!"

"Now he's going to make a run for it before we get the orders!"

"Then why don't we just kill him now and just explain our situation later?" Draven waved his arms above his head.

"You know that's against our training!"

"What training?!"

"Well you two keep arguing," Talon said in a bored tone. Not that he didn't find their arguing amusing, he was just bored, "I'll just stand here and wait until you two decide when and how to kill me."

"Stay out of it, Mellon!" Draven yelled, once again mistaking Talon's name for a fruit's.

"The more time we waste, the further away this kid will be!"

"I'm not going anywhere," Talon said, finding new amusement out of the argument.

"I say we just strangle him here, and tell the higher ups later that he was just getting on our nerves?!"

"Why don't I strangle YOU and tell the higher ups that YOU were getting on MY nerves?!"

"You know what: That's a wonderful idea! Let's just strangle each other and let the fruit get away!"

"Sounds good to me!"

Draven wrapped his hands around Darius' neck, and vice versa. They were shaking each other back and forth and rolling all over the ground, both of them trying to get on top of the other. Talon found this much too hilarious to watch, knowing that they both initially wanted to strangle him instead. A crowd of people gathered around the two fighting brothers and started to cheer stuff like "Rip his throat out!" or "Pin him to the ground!" and some saying that this was the "Best party ever!"

"Enough you two!" yelled a voice that belonged to a white haired, well built lass wearing your formal green Noxian uniform.

The fighting brothers looked up to see the young lady and immediately released their grip on each others necks. Talon soon recognized her as Riven, one of Swain's favorite soldiers and a member of the Crimson Elite. Darius and Draven picked themselves up from the ground and brushed off the dirt on their uniforms.

"He started it," Draven gestured to his older brother.

"Untrue," Darius countered. "You started it by telling the kid that we'll be back to kill him."

"What kid?" Riven asked, uncaring about who started the fight.

Draven cocked his head towards Talon, "Him."

Riven recognized the "kid" the brothers were talking about as a fellow Crimson Elite member, "Talon?"

"Talon?" Draven slapped his face. "Hell. I thought his name was Mellon."

"Good evening, Riven," Talon said as politely as he could, remembering his master's unfinished lecture about greetings, and his savior from having to make an easy get-away from two angry soldiers.

"Wait," Darius butted in, "you know this kid?"

Draven pointed a finger at Talon, "He's a criminal that escaped MY execution."

"He's not a criminal. And yes: he's a partner of mine," Riven said shyly. The crowd around them had dispersed and returned to whatever they were doing before the fight started.

"Partner is an overstatement," Talon corrected. "We just work in the same organization and we go on missions together whenever Swain thinks I can't handle them alone."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Draven shook his hands side to side, "You're saying that you work for Swain, and-"

"General Swain," Darius interrupted.

"...and you never were the kid we thought you were?" Draven completely ignored Darius' correction, and said person face palmed his own forehead.

"Sure," Talon said, completely fooling the brothers.

"I'm still not sure what's going on here, but I think you two owe Talon an apology," Riven more ordered.

Darius sighed, but gave the assassin a slight (mind you, slight) bow, "My apologies."

Draven on the other hand, stayed silent for a moment, but after a brief pause, looked away and rubbed the back of his head, "Whatever, man. Guess you weren't the kid we though you were."

"So Talon," Riven started, softening up her voice a bit, "I didn't know you were a part of our victory."

"I wasn't," Talon lifted his back off the wall, as he got tired of the position and instead stood straight up. "I was invited."

"By who?"

"Uhh," Talon paused. He wasn't sure if his master would like it if he revealed that he was the one who took him here.

"Meh," Draven interrupted, "I'm getting bored. Hey Darius, let's go outside and grab the strippers' attention," the executioner rushed out the door without his brother to probably try and score a fun time with the ladies.

"Ack, Draven! That's a terrible idea," Darius followed his brother outside, probably to drag him back before he does something really bad.

"Ahh," Riven said, "sorry about those two. Darius and I are in the same segment of the military, and Draven is some ego-blown maniac who loves to cause a scene."

"Whatever," Talon said. "I did find amusement in their arguing though."

"Yeah," Riven looked around and spotted a vacant table not too far from where she was standing. "There's a table right over there if you want to sit down. That is if you're not in the middle of something."

Talon thought it over for a second, "Okay, sure. There's nothing else I could do, anyway."

"Let's go before it gets taken by someone else," Riven made her way to the vacant table followed by Talon. The two sat down across from each other. Riven on one side, Talon on the other. An awkward moment of silence passed by the two before Riven finally spoke up, "So how do you know the blood brothers? Or did you not know them at all and Draven just mistook you as one of his adoring fans before accusing you of a criminal?"

Talon had to think for a moment about Riven's question, as it was hard for him to remember all the details. He placed his elbows on the table and held his chin up with his hands, "Around a year and a half ago, my partner and I made a living stealing from others as a necessity to survive. We must have been causing quite a problem for Noxus' lower class, because one day, two soldiers were on a hunt to capture us. Draven and Darius, were their names, and after a long chase thanks to my partner foolishly drawing their attention, they succeeded in our capture. We were put up for execution by Draven the next day. He ordered that the gates to the outside of the execution grounds remain open, saying that we won't even be able to make it half way out. He underestimated us, or me at least, and we made it out. I was unscathed, but that would be saying to much for my partner. He received two axes in his body, but somehow made it back to our hideout alive. I later killed him, knowing that if I kept him around, he may get me into another situation like that."

"Damn. So you used to live on the streets?" Riven asked, quite interested in Talon's life.

"Yes, and soon after that, a Noxian general saw potential in me, and brought me into his household. Now I work for him, killing those he orders me to kill."

"Heh," Riven chuckled, "I guess I don't need to ask how you got into the upper class now."

"What about you? When did you join the military?" Talon asked, somewhat interested, and only asked because he wanted to avoid another awkward silence.

"Hm," Riven thought back for a moment. "Well, as everyone knows, only those who are strong thrive. I found that the only way to prove my strength was to fight for Noxus, but I was told that I'd never make it in the military because I'm female. After hearing that, I found myself a large broadsword and taught myself how to use one. Once I felt comfortable with my abilities, I challenged one of the high ranking soldiers to a duel and won. After that, I was accepted into the military, and after General Swain witnessed what I'm capable of, he gave me a runeblade and offered me a spot among the Crimson Elite."

"And I see you accepted his invitation."

"Yeah. The Crimson Elite sure was different from the military, though. I remember, my first mission was to eliminate a large group of Demacian lightning mages that were massing close to Noxus," Riven shivered at the memory. "So much lightning flying around. It wasn't even funny."

Talon gave a small smile, knowing that his first mission was somewhat identical to hers, "You think lightning mages were a problem, try taking care of a group of Ionian pyromaniacs all hiding right under Noxus. Now think of fireballs that flung themselves towards you left and right."

"Are you kidding?" Riven countered. "How about having to deal with pirate yordles and how annoying they are, being able to dodge your every strike with their tiny bodies?"

"Are you serious?" Talon replied, sitting back in his chair. "Yordles are simple to deal with. It's the people that go on about how they'll soon conquer the world that get on my nerves."

"Haha!" Riven laughed. "I guess I can't argue with you on that. The kind of people that love to shoot their mouth off all the time definitely are the most annoying. Then again, the guys that think they're unstoppable are pretty bad too."

"Hmph, I suppose they could be annoying, too."

"Can I have your attention please?" Yelled a voice from the long table that sat all the generals from the High Command. The room fell quiet as all eyes drew themselves to the man standing up from his seat. Grand General Boram Darkwill raised his glass for a toast. Sitting next to him was unmistakably his son, Keiran Darkwill. The other generals, including Marcus and Swain, also sat along the table. "A toast, to our recent victory in Demacia," announced Boram. "This brings us one step closer to bringing Demacia and its rulers to the ground." The crowd applauded and cheered until Boram brought a palm up, ordering silence. "Tonight, we feast. You may dig into anything you find satisfying on our buffet table." A line of hungry party-goers formed along the food table. Boram Darkwill sat back into his seat and began to start a conversation with his son and the other generals.

"Don't you think it's a little weird?" Riven questioned. "The Grand General throwing a party over a simple victory? I mean, we win battles against Demacia all the time."

"I guess it does seem a little strange," replied Talon, "but I'm sure they have their reasons. Just like we have ours for showing up."

"Yeah, I guess," Riven placed an elbow on the table and rested her head on her hand.

Marcus appeared behind Talon and placed his hand on his shoulder. Riven saw this and stood up from her chair for a bow in respect of her superior. Marcus put a hand up to dismiss the soldier,

"General Ducouteau," Riven said with a high amount of respect, "it's an honor."

"And you are?" Marcus asked. Talon sat patiently, waiting for the introductions to pass.

"Riven, sir."

"Ah, so you're the girl Talon works with in the Crimson Elite?"

"Only on special occasions sir, but yes, he and I work together on some missions."

Marcus stroked his beard, as if thinking something over, "Well, miss Riven, it's been a pleasure, but now I need a word with Talon here – in private."

Riven was shocked for a second, 'Was General Ducouteau the one that brought Talon into the upper class?' "O-Of course," she recovered. "If you want, I can leave and you two can use the table."

"That won't be necessary," Marcus waved his hand side to side. "We'll just leave for a moment if you don't mind."

"Not at all," Riven gave Talon a wave as Marcus pulled him out of his chair and the two went off somewhere to discuss.

Marcus led his apprentice to a deserted part of the building, and cracked a suppressed chuckle.

"What?" Talon asked.

"I didn't think I'd see you sitting at a table with someone else. Especially with a girl, and a very cute girl at that."

Talon looked away from his master's seemingly mocking gaze, "It was either that or stand around with nothing to do."

"Knowing you, I thought you'd rather stand alone."

"Whatever. Is that all you wanted to discuss?"

Marcus lowered his voice to a low whisper and lifted a finger up to the table with the Grand General and his colleagues, "See everyone on that table? They're all generals of the High Command, which means that they hold a lot of power over what happens in Noxus. Remember everyone there, they may just become a potential target to you if any of them gets out of hand."

Talon scanned the table seating the High Command and stored their characteristics in his head, "You're saying that you want me to kill them?"

"Corruption runs deep in Noxus' military, boy. One of these generals may turn against the rest for his own selfish desires. If that happens, then I may have to order you to put him down."

"Just like when you had me assassinate Aego."

"Indeed. Make sure you get a good look at each of them," Marcus turned and started back towards the table he sat at, with the other generals. "Be ready to leave in a moment. I have something I need to do back at the mansion."

Talon took one last glance at the table of the High Command. They all looked stronger and more powerful than the average Noxian soldier. Even Keiran Darkwill, who wasn't even a general yet, had a powerful look about him. Though none of them seemed like they'll be too much to handle for the assassin. Except for his master, of course. Swain and Boram Darkwill though, may prove to be difficult targets for him. Talon made a mental note of it and decided that he did enough judging on simple appearances. He made his way back to the table he and Riven sat at, knowing that Marcus could just get him when he's done with whatever he's doing.

Riven had a dish of food in front of her when she noticed the assassin sit down on her table, "So what did you talk about?"

"None of your business," Talon retorted in his usual low tone.

"Right. General Ducouteau did say he needed you in private after all," Riven started to pick at her food with a fork.

Talon stared at Riven's plate. All meats glazed with sauces. "That's not healthy for you," he said, gesturing to her food.

Riven set down her fork and gave Talon an accusing look, "And since when have you become concerned with what I eat?"

"I'm not. I'm just pointing out that what you're eating isn't healthy."

"If you say so," Riven said sarcastically.

Talon turned his head to see his master gazing at him from the exit, "I have to go now," Talon said as he got up from his seat.

"I suppose I should leave too," Riven set down her fork and got up as well. "It's getting pretty late."

The two of them made their way to the exit of the building where Marcus was waiting. Riven gave him another respectful bow before giving Talon a farewell and going off in the direction of where she lived. Marcus turned to his apprentice with a serious look,

"Did you finish analyzing their appearance?"

"Every last one of them," Talon said coldly.

"Good," Marcus headed out the building. "Come, boy. It's time to head back."

Meanwhile, outside of the main party:

"Draven!" Darius yelled. "Stop tossing all your money at the dancers! That's how you become broke!"

"No way!" Draven yelled back, tossing more of his money at the strippers. "Draven's gonna keep giving them money until they take it ALL off."

Darius face palmed his forehead in his brother's stupidity, "You don't say that out loud. Now they'll never take off their clothes. Besides, we're outside where nudity is considered illegal."

"Does it look like I care? I'm going to get them unclothed even if it takes all night!"

"You're going to regret this later if you don't stop now."

"Draven never regrets!"

...