With having had a companion who hailed from Noxus, who came and went for upwards of five months together, had gotten Yasuo rather accustomed to the Noxian presence. Though when his companion did leave for their ‘official business’ ( which Yasuo knew to be of the assassin variety ) he did find himself missing them, even if only slightly. Due to him getting so accustomed to their way of dress, mannerisms, and overall personality; when a rather decently sized group of what he could only assume to be Noxian soldiers entered into the quaint tea shop, he didn’t give them much in the way of thought. The shopkeeper looked weary, however, glancing to the ronin with concerned eyes as the soldiers approached the counter and took their seats. She gave them the same amount of courteous attention as she would to any guest.
Only when he got that look from the shopkeep did he truly begin to feel something ... off about these newfound guests. Languidly sipping at his xaolan tea, his eyes scanned over their group casually, noting all of the weaponry they seemed to bear. Overly packed for what he’d assume to be looting, and his mind quickly came to the assumption that these were bandits, far from home. And if they looked to try and assail the tea shop, the swordsman would quickly intervene.
But that would not come to pass, as these Noxians were looking to claim something else entirely.
While drinking from his cup, he felt a strong arm grip his other wrist as he lay it flat on the counter top, Yasuo’s eyes finding the noxian in question with not much more than a simple glare. The hand actually hurt when he was grabbed, not from the grip itself, but as if someone had pinched him, which was rather out of the ordinary. The man before him grinned, waving his free hand to his compatriots and signalling for ... something. Yasuo was immediately put on edge.
As quick as the ronin was, he severely underestimated this group of ‘bandits,’ several of them deftly wading through the dim light of the tea shop, easily outmaneuvering Yasuo’s line of sight. Setting his tea cup down on the counter, using his off hand to draw his sword with immaculate swiftness, sending it smoothly through the first assassin’s gut. And despite his victory over the one who had grabbed him, there were many who still traversed through the dark.
That’s when he knew they were assassins. But noxian ones? Not once had someone sent noxian assassins after him, at least, as far as he knew.
He quickly gathered himself to his feet, before he immediately collapsed.
Panic washed through him, Yasuo’s body slowly succumbing to paralysis. He could only glance over to his arm, the source of the sudden jolt of pain - only to see three small pierced dots, and his hand tainted a sickly purple. Poison. The assassins that surrounded him emerged from the dark corners of the tea shop, seeming to ignore the shopkeep entirely as they came to his stiff body. All he could make out was their strangely familiar way of noxian dress before his head was covered in a sack, and his body secured with plenty of rope.
He had expected to die. But it seemed these assassins had other plans. It didn’t make any sense.
The ronin would be taken out into the forest, his head only uncovered once they had secured him to one of the nearby trees. Looks like they had set up a temporary small encampment, limited to a firepit and a couple of bedrolls nearby. None of the assassins seemed to bother looking at him at that point, as if he were simply a glorified decoration, up against the tree. They had stripped him of his armor and sword, which he could make out in the farthest end of their small camp, and he could only just barely begin to feel the paralysis effects slowly diminish. He would be stuck here for a while, if they didn’t kill him first.
Looking up to the sky, Yasuo knew he would be late to his meet up time with a very special friend.
@talonisms
