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Since she was a child, Katarina spent most of her days learning to fight away the empire’s enemies with deadly precision. She was born and raised in noble family and followed her father’s footsteps unlike her sister Cassiopeia who took after their mother into politics. Katarina grew up pretty early with her father guiding her, and he was extremely strickt and harsh teacher with many pupils, and notoriously difficult to impress. She spent every waking moment honing herself into the ultimate weapon, testing her endurance, her proficiency, her tolerance for pain. She even inserted poison in herself – testing their effects and gradually building her resistance She craved to do her part for Noxus. She craved for the opportunity to demonstrate her hidden strengths in service of the empire, and the throne.

Her first target came straight from her father, camped with his warbands on the eve of one of the military’s innumerable westward invasion. She was to assassinate a line officer of the opposing army who went by the name of Demetrius.

Katarina was furious. She hadn’t trained her entire life to have her talents wasted on some dungheel barely skilled enough to swing a sword! He simply wouldn’t do. Instead of her assigned target, Katarina stole into the enemy camp and slit the enemy commander’s throat as he slept. It was a flawless execution. It would bring a swift victory, and glory to Noxus. It would make her father proud. But her plan backfired….leaving dozens of Noxian soldiers slaughtered, even her father barely escaped with his life.

He was mad beyond words, refusing even to look his daughter in the eye. She had shamed him, and their family name. The greatest assassins do not seek recognition or glory, he reminded her. They do not expect to occupy a place of honor at their master’s right hand.

Completely confused, Katarina struck out into the wilderness. Now she wanted to complete her original mission to kill Demetrius. But her mind was buzzing with thoughts if she could ever forgive hersel or how had she been so foolish?
Distracted by her mind, she failed to see her attacker until he had nearly taken her eye out. For Katarina’s failure, General Du Couteau had sent another of his protégés after her; a nameless whelp dragged up from one of the lesser assassins’ guilds. But even with blood streaming down her face, the years of rigorous training kicked in, and her blades were in her hands in an instant.

Six hours later, she tossed Demetrius’s severed head at her father’s feet. She told the general she had considered taking his head instead, but eventually decided—as much as she hated to admit it—that he had done the right thing in ordering her death. She had failed. Not just as an assassin, or as a daughter, but as a Noxian. And failure must have its consequences. She ran her fingers along the raw, deep gash over her left eye, and thought of the price others had paid for her arrogance.

She knew she had lost her father’s mercy, and probably could never win him over. He will place others in her place, simply to spite her. Still, she swore to redeem herself, no matter the what. She stays loyal to her goal – to become the sinister weapon she always intended to be.