A/N: Spcial shoutout to son of Zebedee for following the story. But I am surprised, in your bio you say that you read mainly Castle fics, why read LOL fics? But nah, I'll let it slide. Hop on for the next chapter, which is a bit off the storyline.
The inn was full of people, drinking and talking loudly about their own affairs. They had swords, crossbows and axes on their backs, while their mugs were always full of the liquid. A short man, who could be said to be a yordle walked around, serving the drinks.
The short person walked to another man, that one laying on the floor, resting his back against the wall. He looked almost as if he was dead, but the smoking pipe in his left hand didn't prove that idea. The stranger had black hair, reaching to his shoulders. He had a metallic carapace, covering most of his body, except his head and face. It was not an armor, more like an extension to his skin. His face had a short beard and moustache, but what people usually saw first was the fact that his eyes were two yellow spheres.
"Do you want something?" The short man asked, with a screeching and annoying voice. His head was bald, while a good portion of his left ear was missing. After a good minute, the bartender left, muttering something under his nose.
The stranger on the wall just kept smoking from his pipe, probably finding reason to live only in doing so. He had been dreaming recently, of a man, a cloaked man, who came to the tavern and summoned daemons, which then killed and killed, untill nothing was left.
Then, the door creaked. Almost painfully, it opened, to reveal a hooded man. He had a black robe, and was pulling a sword after himself. It was a normal sword, but he pulled it on the ground. It looked funny, yet also sad, because he was probably once a warrior who used the sword to kill men, and now he used it as a walking stick.
The newcomer caused quite some stir in the tavern, most of the customers stopped talking and looked towards him. He only shook his head, exploring the place, than walked next to the strange man with black hair. The latest kept breathing the smoke of the tobacco, and ignored the man who sat next to him.
The newcomer turned his face around, looking both at the empty space to his left, and the stranger to his right. His face had sharp features, the eyes of the man were dark and small. More like a pig's eyes. He didn't have hair on his face, no beard, no moustache, except his brows, but no one knew if he had hair at all. His hand was bony, as if he hadn't put even a crumb in his mouth for a long time.
His eyes focused on the stranger, who was smoking, with eyes barely opened. After a little bit of time, his eyes widened in surprise. Moving a little closer towards the stranger, the newcomer looked with shining eyes.
"Is that you, Victor?" Whispered the hooded man. The smoking person froze. The one who asked smiled widely and chuckled.
"I knew I was going to find a face which could help me. Don't you remember me Vic? It's me, Graves!" The outlaw looked happy to meet the machine herald, yet he was not going to earn a response from the man. Victor was not the same. He would never be the same.
"Hey, what you say I get a room and you get some sleep in it? How does that sound?" Graves offered, extending a purse, probably full of gold. Victor looked at him slowly, then nodded almost invisibly. Graves smiled and went to the bartender, to get a room.
While this was happening, Victor simply took one long pull from his pipe, and stood up. If he still had bones made from bone, they would start cracking and pop, but he had metal bones. And metal was perfection. He slowly walked towards Graves who just rented a room, and was going up the stairs. They entered the room, and the outlaw offered the herald to sit on he bed.
Instead of sitting, Victor hid under the sheets, then uncovered himself. Repeating the process, as if to decide which way it was better, he finally stopped on the second variant. Graves pulled a chair next to the bed and sat.
"Vic, are you going to tell me what happened with you after the Institute?" Asked the outlaw, after closing the door. The machine herald looked at Graves, while his eyes gleamed with a light which was not usual for them. Not at least on the fields.
After a moment of hesitation, Victor cleared his throat.
"A-after the Insitute?" He was not talking as he used to. His voice was no longer the deep and rough growl it used to be, it was now more like an endless cry, a sob. Graves nodded, encouraging Victor to continue.
"They... They killed my... My little Goldie..." His expression changed from an interest less emotion to a sad boy's face. The machine herald was probably going to cry. Graves tried to remain emotionless, only o listen to Victor's story.
"Why did they kill your..."Graves thouhgt that his little Goldie was Blitzcrank. "Little Goldie?"
"He didn't want to leave the Institute, because all his friends were there, you know? Teemo, the Ball, Oriana, Heimerdinger. They were all his friends. When I told my Goldie we were leaving, he decided to stay. I tried making him come back with me, back to Zaun. At first, my Goldie said he would come, and then we went there. We returned to Zaun..." He went silent after saying they returned to the city.
Graves was able to catch him off guard. He couldn't speak about Blitzcrank. But the outlaw wanted, no, needed to know.
"What happened after you went back to Zaun?" Questioned the gunman. Victor coughed, then looked at Graves.
"Well, yes. He went back, and I didn't know. He didn't tell me he was going I understanded, I immediately ran off, towards the Institiute. I didn't even take my cane..." He stopped again. Looking back to the wall, he asked calmly: "Can I have some water?"
Graves nodded and took the phone, with which he could order food and drinks. After a minute, in the room came a young girl with a plate, which had a cup of a colorless liquid, which she handed to Victor. The machine herald drank, then placed the cup on the night shelf next to the bed. Graves told the girl she can go, then turned back to Victor.
"When I reached the Institute, the others had already attacked. And as if fate laughed at me, as if it mocked me, I came in time to see my Goldie. But my Goldie was being cut into pieces by that... That Darius! He simply chopped on my child and when my Goldie couldn't move, he went to kill others. I took my Goldie home, and started nursing him to health. But they didn't leave me get him back to healthiness! They came, and burned him in front of me! In front of my own two EYES..." He started sobbing. The water in the cup had disappeared, Graves noticed.
"After this?" He pushed a bit. Victor looked at him. The golden light of his eyes was trembling. He sighed, and the tears suddenly disappeared.
"They took everything I had. Everything. I left Zaun, made a vow to myself never to return. One day in the dark forests about, I was given the letter. It said simply one thing. I didn't go there. It was a proposition to go to the camp, but I didn't go. I stayed." He finished.
"You know, Vic, that if they get enough forces, the Refugees were going to attack Noxus. And they could give you... I don't know, vengeance?" Graves asked. Victor's eyes lit. He stood up, and clutched his hand in a fist.
"You don't know how swift I would have been, if that were true. To make that Noxian feel the pain from the third arm... It would be arousing, maybe even enlig-"
Victor fell to the floor, his expression a mix between hatred and surprise. The dual knife slipped slowly into it's sheath, on the upper side of Zed's right hand. His fingers wrapped around the cloaking device and he pulled it, then smashed the machine on the carpet. He noticed the red blossom, growing under Victor. Metal is perfection, eh? Didn't look like it... His thoughts led him back to the Noxian general. Killing those who planned to attack them was... interesting. At least hearing stories was.
He kneeled next to Victor's immovable body, and grabbed his third arm. Pulling slightly, the knives appeared and separated the device. What did that tiger say, eh? Each trophy, a win? Nah, don't care. He simply had to collect those items and give them to that Swain, in exchange for money and security. Zed wandered on Victor's words. Killing Darius... What a fool, Darius was stronger than ever. Even he didn't stand a chance. Walking to the window, he turned to look at the herald. The blossom looked like claws, preparing to snatch their prize.
Zed's laugh echoed through the room, as the shadows started consuming him. What an easy target, he thought.
A/N: By the way, do not forget to review and motivate me to write more ;D