Thread: ≒ Tit for Tat | League of Legends | HeavenSundered ≓

In Noxus, the military controlled every aspect of the political landscape, and the High Command, in turn, controlled the military. For much of Noxus' recent history, General Boram Darkwill, the eternally youthful-looking leader of the High Command, has ruled as Grand General. Trade relations with the Zaunites flourished, but diplomacy with the Demacians continued to worsen. The very air tense, carrying with it whispers of war. An ominous situation that deteriorated all the more as startling news shocked all of Noxus - Boram Darkwill, assassinated, his entire platoon of Raedsel Guardsman found slain near a village in Kalamanda. King Jarvan III of Demacia decried the attack, and stated that he did not order the assassination. But all through Noxus the citizenry cried foul. Boram Darkwill was not beloved, but Noxus would not sit idle to see one of its own slain. It perhaps came as no surprise then, that the High Command ordered an emergency meeting. Nine platforms were elevated above all the rest of the council, spread out in an arc. Curved from black runestone, engraved with the sigil of each House. The platforms more properly compared to conclaves - runestone upon each side, shielding the dignitary entirely from view from the waist below. The platforms interspersed, more than twelve feet between each. Behind them hanged the banners of Noxus, the ghostly blue crest gleaming almost eerily. Light shining from above, casting haunting shadows over the whole council. Beneath the balcony of platforms seated the other High Command members. Each house of Noxus represented. The delegates murmuring among themselves, the tension in the air palpable. The sound of horns sliced through the tension as if a blade, heralding the arrival of the nine permanent members. They arrived from separate balconies above. In the center, Keiran Darkwill, filling his father's spot. Immediately to the left, Swain, the deformed tactician that had emerged as a forerunner for the seat of Grand General. And further, Darius, a renowned commander. To the right of Keiran, Katarina Du Couteau, standing in for her father, General Du Couteau. The man's fate unknown, having been missing for too many moons now. While she refused to officially take the position, the famed assassin, for all intent and purposes, effectively served as the Head of her House. Katarina did not neglect her duty to act in her father's stead, but stubbornly held onto the glimmer of hope that he might yet live. Five more houses of Noxus were represented as well, taking their respective positions. The assassin seemed deep in thought as she approached her platform, but her sharp emeralds ever watchful - studying each dignitary from her periphery vision, reading not their faces, but the subtle nuances of their body language. She wore her usual leather armor instead of the finery favored by nobility of every other nation. In Noxus, strength was prized above all, and to foregone one's armor in favor of regal robes was frowned upon. Her fiery hair framing pale complexion, every feature strong, as though curved from a fine-tipped knife. The arc of her brow dauntless, brilliant green eyes rending the air as though but another pair of blades she wielded. The scar she was known for interrupting the smooth skin of her left eye, adding a hint of macabre to her otherwise perfect features. Her visage proud, composed, her expression giving away none of her turbulent thoughts. Every inch of the renowned assassin was lined with battle-hardened muscles, barely interrupting the smooth expanses of skin. An elaborate tattoo of black ink spanning the left side of her torso, each mark a testimony of her valorous deeds. In Noxus, warriors tattooed themselves for each accomplishment, and the sheer size of Katarina's spoke to her power and influence. As she drew closer to her platform, her eyes suddenly widened, a surprise she covered up quickly. The distance between the Nine and all the rest below meant that none was studying her visage too carefully, but one could never be so sure when situated amid wolves ready to pounce at the slightest hint of weakness. Nestled within the confines of her platform, half hiding in the drapery decorating the runestone, were nine fluffy white tails that could only belong to one champion. Ahri . A name she did not voice, but the way her lips drawn into a thin line said it all. What was the mischievous fox doing here? In Noxus? Better yet, how the hell did she sneak into this meeting? Then again, knowing the vixen, she wouldn't be surprised if Ahri simply Charmed the guards and blatantly made her way inside. Hardly an innocent maiden herself, Katarina had a fair idea already of the other champion's intentions, one that made her abs clench sharply with a sudden jolt of arousal. Even as her jaw clenched with a hint of panic. Not now. She wouldn't have minded even this exceedingly naughty play any other time, but this meeting was incredibly important. She could feel the gaze of the rest of the council burning into her and the rest of the Nine as she drew up to the platform, taking her place. Everyone looked to them for instructions, for guidance in this turbulent time. To her left, Keiran cleared his throat and began to speak. Men and women of Noxus, we gather today not to mourn the loss of Grand General Boram Darkwill, our peerless leader, but to determine the fate of this vaulted nation. Our enemies deny knowledge of his assassination, but will we blind ourselves to the plain truth? Katarina will admit, the young Darkwill had a knack for rhetoric, but rhetoric alone will not earn him his father's seat. She forced herself to gaze straight ahead all the while, her fingers clenched against the runestone. Her posture impeccable, hiding her unease with an outward projection of poise. If she was correct about Ahri's machinations, then this was going to end up in all manners of disastrous. But maybe, if stars be willing, maybe the fox had fallen asleep?