Katarina winced inwardly as her side twinged with pain. The wound was not deep, but it was both unexpected and unpleasant. She wouldn't have thought one dressed as such a pauper would be able to slip past her guard like that, but his skills further belied his deception, the ruse that led her to target him in the first place. She was careful not to show the pain on her face, not when she was this close. Not when she almost had her answers.
"I'll ask you one last time, fool. Where. Is. My. Father?" Venom dripped from the redhead's voice as she pushed her blade ever-so-gently upwards, drawing a few drops of blood from her victim's throat. The man was pinned against a supporting column of the old, dusty bar the pair had ended up in. Clearly, the storefront hadn't seen many occupants in the past few years before the two had crashed through the front window.
The man gulped, scarcely daring to breathe, but still looking for an escape. Blood flowed visibly from several wounds on his body, his ragged gray and brown cloak slowly turning a scarlet red.
"I...I don't know, milady. I'm just a poor simple hyurk!" the man's words were cut short by a knee driven into his stomach. Gasping for breath, he doubled over, and Katarina let him fall to the floor. She rolled him over with her foot, placing it squarely on his chest and staring into his darting eyes. A blade, thrown quicker than the eye could follow, suddenly appeared in the floorboard next to the man's head with a solid thud!
"Fine! Fine! I'll tell you all I know!" the man practically screamed, "General Du Couteau isn't dead! Please don't kill me! I can lead you to his captors!"
Suddenly, Katarina's vision went blurry. She swooned, taking a few steps back. The man took her dizziness for mercy, and sat up slowly.
"Whose....whose captors?" Katarina inquired, still trying to clear the fuzziness from her head.
"General...Du Couteau?" The man replied, gingerly getting to his feet, unsure of how to react to the sudden change in the assassin
"I...I don't know who that is," Katarina replied, unsure of how or why she was in the old bar. She turned around, surveying her surroundings and touching her head lightly. It felt as though her skull had grown too small for her brain, and the swelling, pounding sensation disoriented her.
The man in rags was not one to let an opportunity like that pass. You don't live long in Noxus before you learn you take what is given to you. He snarled, pulling the blade she had thrown at him from the floorboard and lunging towards the woman. She turned too late, her eyes widening in fear as the man closed the gap between him. A second blade impacted the side of his head just moments before the two connected, however, and he went flying to her left, his blade missing her abdomen by mere inches. The man fell to the ground, and lay still, Katarina still staring at the space he had occupied moments before.
"Next time, I don't save you," a low voice came from the shadows near the window. Talon stepped out, his bladed cloak rustling lightly as he crossed the room to retrieve his knife from the man's head. "Turning your back on a mark is stupid enough for me to let fate take you, regardless of your parentage."
"Who are you?" Katarina collected herself and readied her blades. Clearly this new man could have killed her as easily as her assailant, but she knew better than to take anything for granted.
Talon stared at her blankly. "I don't have time for your humor, Kat. That was the last lead we had, and frankly, your joking makes me wonder if I should have spared you at the expense of his information. We need to get back to the manor, come on."
Katarina warily sheathed her daggers. She wasn't sure how the man knew her name, or what was going on. The pounding in her head seemed to be subsiding, however, and she figured it would be better to follow him and find out what she could. The two slipped out of the hole in the glass storefront, and were soon lost in the shadows of the slums.