Garen peered around his over-sized hand, attempting to get a look at the board before he let his fingers drop from the king. His eyes darted back and forth between the piece in his finger, and the opponent across from him; neither supplied him with a hint at what would happen next. Begrudgingly, he dropped the piece into place and nodded. "Your move."
As quick as a serpent, Katarina's hand darted across the board, moving her queen to take his lonely bishop. "I do love an old fashioned fork, but this match would be more enjoyable were I able to kill both at once."
"What challenge would there be in that?" Garen hunkered back down, his mind attempting to think of a new plan.
"One does not need a challenge, only victory."
"Typical." Garen snorted, air bursting through his nose like that of a charging bull. "This is a game of military tactics and precision, not some...murder fetish."
"Oh dear boy." Katarina let out a long, drawn out yawn before stretching her arms out wide. "Proper tactics only result in the fulfillment of such a fetish."
"Incorrect." Garen reached a gloved hand down, picking up his queen. The piece danced around the board before eventually returning to it's original location. "Life should be held dear, preserved and protected." He looked to his opponent, who was now sitting sideways in her chair, legs draped over the arm. She met his eyes, giving him a crooked smile. It sent goosebumps down Garen's arms, causing him to swallow so hard it felt as if a rock had taken refuge in his throat. He tried to return the gaze, but all he managed to do was form an unhealthy looking snarl.
"You take too long with this silly game." Katarina pulled a dagger from out of her boot and started spinning it around one of her fingers. "So meticulous and careful, as if each piece is one of your men. The goal is to kill my king, not protect yours."
The white queen danced across the board before Garen leaned back. His shoulders pulled tight as he looked down at the board, a slow nod directed towards Katarina. "Your turn."
"About time." The dagger in Katarina's hand slowly reached out to her rook, which she slide all the way across the board to Garen's back row. Another little smile flickered across her face. "Check."
Garen's face seemed to turn to stone, and he sat, staring at the board without any sign of life. The only noise in the near empty room of the inn was the crackle of the fire in the hearthstone, and the light tapping of Katarina's knife against her chair.
"What is wrong with you?" Katarina clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and sat up straight. "Where is the aggressive man from the battlefield? The man who slays ten foes at once, charging into unbearable odds in the name of his king. Where is the Garen worth killing?" She flicked her dagger out at Garen's king with the intent of knocking it off the board, but he reached out and caught her by the wrist. She laughed, ever so lightly. "Still in there somewhere, is he?"
Garen pushed her wrist aside before reaching down and sliding his knight across the board. "Check."
"Really?" Katarina blinked, her fingers lightly reaching down to fix her new problem. "Check."
"Check." Garen shifted the pieces faster than he had moved all night. His opponent was leaning in now, and she moved so fast, in the way that he had expected, that he was already moving his next piece before he was done with his last. Each turn ramped up higher and higher, with every play ending with one or the other in check. They traded pieces like they traded men, until there were only two kings left on the board.
"You cheated." Mumbled Katarina, her eyes wide with surprise.
"Only Noxian's cheat."
"I wouldn't even need to."
"That never seems to stop you."
"If you're dead and I'm not, it matters not how it happened."
"Not even your dirty tactics will bring you victory on the battlefield."
"I would kill your king and all your men before you even managed to get your giant ass out of that chair."
"You will not lay a finger on my king, my men, or me."
"Try and stop me." A dagger flew from Katarin'a sleeve headed directly at Garen's chest. He darted from the chair, moving in front of the fireplace with a speed that defied his large frame. The dagger whizzed past him, sticking into the chair with a soft thud. His stoney demeanor returned as he locked eyes with Katarina.
"Combat is illegal outside the League." He had no weapon, but he made no move to flee. A Demacian never faltered, never surrendered, and never fled. His gloved fingers inched towards the sword that was usually
strapped to his back, but all his grip tightened around was air. He dropped his clenched fists to his side as he prepared to stand his ground, regardless of what would happen next. "Your move, Noxian."
A smile flickered across Katarina's lips as she vaulted over the back of her chair, three new daggers appearing in her hands. "My move?" She let out a light laugh before her body visibly tensed, ready to spring. "Try and stop me, Might of Demacia."
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