A rogue Summoner had escaped to a nearby graveyard, presumably to perform prohibited acts of nectomantic magic. It was rare that cases like these arose, but when they did, the Crimson Elite were entrusted with keeping things under control. Tonight would be a test of that control.
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At nightfall,
this particular graveyard was blanketed by thin layers of translucent fog. Piles of moss
and other vegetation had crept and curled about the tombs and other various structures throughout
the grounds. Spiraling cobblestone paths leading to underground crypts circled
and bent all around, though it was rumored that the most elaborate crypts, belonging to Noxian noblemen and distinguished military figures alike, had no pathway, but were concealed by the stealthy guise of Summoner’s magic.
And every now and then, a shrill cry would pierce the
near-silence, courtesy of the restless ravens who'd yet to seek refuge.
‘Just stay quiet and keep up,’ demanded Talon, he let the
words convey frustration. Katarina merely nodded in acknowledgement, but her
mind was elsewhere.
Why would a banished Summoner be so obsessed as to call
upon the empty spirits of the dead? She wondered.
Noxian graveyards were not unlike those of Demacia, Ionia, or any other in Valoran. They had ceremonial tombstones, inscribed with phrases of virtue, respect, and discipline. Noxians were a proud a people as any other, and thus all dead citizens were given due respect in this way. Given the reports of this Summoner, it was clear that he was bereft of all respect.
Talon didn’t have the patience for failure, and he had
even less patience for incompetent allies. Katarina had proven herself on the
fields of battle with high frequency, but this was more than just a routine skirmish against
Demacian patrols. In fact, he had no idea what to expect, and perhaps it was
this fact alone that put his mind in such a heightened state of mental alertness.
‘Just keep your mind on the mission,’ she quipped, not concerned in the least.
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Being surrounded by all this death gave Katarina some time to contemplate the death she'd dealt. The thoughts sensed of remorse, sorrow, and regret, but she had not the tolerance to consider them for long. Expert mental discipline made it possible for her to regard such emotions with transience, and as if washed away by a torrent, they left her mind, replaced by the more immediate sensory perceptions of the surrounding area.
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‘What are you DOING
in this PLACE!’ he thought… it was the Summoner, somehow interfacing with his thoughts. His words resounded with the torment and grief of one who’d
devoted a lifetime to believing in pretentious falsehoods and corrupting power.
‘You FOOLS! This is
my PLACE. These are the DEAD you are toiling with. I AM toiling WITH!’
‘GET OUT!’ said
the Summoner, each word growing louder than the last.
Then, in a swift motion, Katarina whipped around and
grabbed Talon by the forearm, nearly bringing him to the ground. Given her slim
stature, it was a surprise to him that she could be so forceful.
‘Snap out of it,’ she voiced calmly, ‘it’s not real.’ The
Summoner had no vanished from sight. Where he had once stood, billowy wafts of pink smoke remained .
However, the Summoner had left behind much more than smoke and mirrors…
Talon shook his head.
‘How did he do that?’ he asked.
'I don’t know,’ replied Katarina, ‘but we need to get out
of here. He's sealed the exits. There is little time.’
Pulse quickening, she watched as black forms shifted from
beneath the residual smoke that now circulated at the feet of the weary
assassins.
While Katarina took several cautionary steps backward,
Talon surveyed the situation with a bored ease that belied his experience on
the field. Whereas Katarina was of the opinion that every combative situation
should be handled with pinpoint tactics, Talon had the stubbornness to slay at random, irrespective of precision...
And there was much slaying to be done.
And there was much slaying to be done.
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