#glory in navori

[aurelion-solar]

Samira, the Desert Rose - Legends of Runeterra Splash Art

[furtiveseal]

Something I find interesting about Sett, Jack and Samira is that they seem to show a bit of a shift in terms of champion design.

If we look at many other champions (including some that were rotated, which in some cases can point to Riot seeing their design as unhealthy), once they've leveled up, they immediately put a lot of pressure on the opponent: Ezreal can threaten burst-speed kills, Pyke can wipe your board with a flick of a strike spell, Pantheon, Kai'Sa or Aatrox successfully attacking can win the game on the spot, etc.

But the Glory in Navori trio doesn't work like that. It's only once you've leveled them up that you can actually start building up towards a payoff. Samira doesn't rally on level up, Sett doesn't create a showstopper on level up, and Jack's level up only really gives him +1/+1 and overwhelm before you commit any more resources (he does gain additional coin generation, but it's not exactly a game ender either).

It'd be overkill to say they have to level up twice, but they've definitely been designed with counterplay and interaction in mind, giving the opponent time to answer them before they actually become threats. All of their level ups give them a "smaller" buff that helps them achieve their bigger effect, but you still have to work for that game-winning rally or obliterate.

[dire-straits-fn8ic]

Take me down to the Scargrounds city where the grass is green and the girls are granted +1/+0 and Tough whenever they survive damage

[impostores0o]

Bilgewater:

Tahm Kench,The River King League of legends/Riot games All credits to:Chengwei Pan, Alex Flores, Chris Campbell (Skeeziks), Mitchell Malloy,  Gem 'Lonewingy' Lim,  Kienan 'Knockwurst' Lafferty; Champion concepts The whole world's a river, and I'm its king." 

"Call me king, call me demon. Water forgets the names of the drowned."The Demon of Addiction

Legends of Runeterra Glory in Navori expasion Credits to: Alessandro Poli "My diet is expensively unique."

 "All the world's a river, and I'm its king." The Great Waddler

Legends of Runeterra:Glory in Navori Expansion Jack, The winner Bull, Mako & Nukkle arriving at Sett's arena in Qayanvi Credits to JiHun Lee, Felipe Martini Card art appreciation "All shall drown in my magnificence." TK

´´Years in the boxing ring taught Jack valuable lessons. He learned that if his opponent can bleed, they can fear. He learned the power of a silent stare. He learned the power of uncontrolled violence.``Jack the Winner

Gangplank,The Saltwater Scourge Captain Gangplank "The Burning Tides" Illustrations all credits to:  Gem 'Lonewingy' Lim "Misery has a delectable taste." TK

Legends of Runeterra Gangplank cards Set 2 - Rising Tides All credits to: SIXMOREVODKA STUDIO  "You're duller than a broken sandwich." TK

"Don't stare too long, lest he catches you lookin'. And don't speak ill of him, for he hears all Bilgewater's whispers. Here he comes. Chin low. Eyes lower." 

[clefaiiiry]

Join me as I try to figure out where the FUCK Sett's arena is

Since Riot haven't even given a name for Sett's mother's tribe, you know damn well they're not going to make this easy.

But anyway, long ramble under the cut;

For starters, we know it's in a city called Qayanvi. We know this via voicelines and flavour text in Legends of Runeterra.

Legends of Runeterra Voicelines from Sett

So what do we know about Qayanvi and, more importantly, where is it?

Title Menu Splash art for Legends of Runeterra shortly after the Glory in Navori expansion dropped.

This art for the title menu on LoR shows Jack presumably before crashing Sett's arena as shown in their card arts. While is is not confirmed outright, it's pretty safe to assume. But since we know what the interior looks like via multiple card arts, we don't even have to assume.

Sett and Jack's Level 1 Card Arts from LoR

Qayanvi must have been a region that Noxus controlled - or at least had influence in - during the First Invasion, and Sett wouldn't move since he wants to stay close to his mother. This is a little harder to figure out since the interactive map on universe only shows the areas currently occupied by Noxus during the Second Invasion.

First image; Red highlights show areas occupied by Noxus. Second image shows place names.

Some of the architecture also seems to have heavy Noxian influence, with this large brutalist grey stone courtyard. We can also see in other card arts that this Noxian style of architecture is present in other locations in Ionia.

Lord Broadmane Card Art from LoR. I don't think this is Qayanvi since the Ionian buildings in the background have blue roofs rather than red ones, but it shows how the Noxian structures coexist alongside the Ionian ones across the previously occupied regions.

We also know that Qayanvi is on the coast since we can see the harbour in the background here.

It also would have been reasonable to assume Qayanvi was a coastal city even without this confirmation since trade is so important for such a crime ridden city. Sett's arena is operating out in the open and everyone knows what sort of dirty business a crime boss like that gets into. Having direct trade links with Noxus and Piltover / Zaun just makes the who operation so much easier.

Navori as a region is described as having 'notable' criminal influence and is quite unstable due to it's previous occupation.

Card Art for The Witness. I'm not as confident about this one being Qayanvi, but the sea wall looks to be similar and the buildings in the background also appear to have a similar shape / red roofs.

Biome map used during development of the Interactive Runeterra map. Link attached to image.

The coastal area that I would have assumed Qayanvi to be in is shown to be a steppe / prairie. It's hard to judge in the images we have, but this looks somewhat consistent.

So we're looking for a coastal area in Navori, not necessarily still in Noxian controlled space, but close enough to continue trade.

Location of Ionian Capital taken from the Wiki; unable to find a source. The city is officially referred to as Ionia City, and is where the Ionian Council meet for various discussions / debates.

With all this in mind, I'm gonna take a stab and estimate that Qayanvi is somewhere within this red line;

Areas in black I think are highly unlikely, areas in yellow are potential but I'm not as confident. The large area south of Ionia City and west of Weh'le I believe(?) is the area attacked by Singed's chemical weapons and therefore are too barren to sustain a city like Qayanvi.

I'm not totally happy with my guess and I'd love to see other people take a swing, but this is the closest I would be happy to guess with the information I can find.

If you made it to the end of this post, thank you for reading and I hope this was interesting!

[children-of-trifarian]

Battle in Ionia

Short Story / Open Starter

In the dappled forest light the Ionia fighters seemed to blend in with the woods, it was no wonder how they had traversed through the treetops without the group of warmasons notice. The battle at the village's entrance was meant to draw any warriors out so the demolitionists could flank the town and blow open an entrance in the forest. But something had given them away. Caitiff heard the gurgle of blood clogging someone's throat and turned around to see a Noxian scout fall. It was the tree’s, Caitiff had heard stories from veterans of the first Ionian war, they warned that the land itself hated outsiders. 

Remember the objectives. Her own words that she had so often barked at others rang in Caitiff’s ears, ordering her to act. Using her small stature to her advantage, Caitiff dodged behind the other warmasons to avoid brawling with ambushing Ionians. The explosives were already in place and if they hadn’t ran into combatants the scout group could have retreated to set them off properly, there was no time now. Climbing onto a rock overlooking the skirmish, Caitiff pulled out two black powder grenades. There was heat from a sudden fire somewhere, maybe someone else had the same idea as her but they would have to set off the explosive in the center of the brawl. Taking the pin with her teeth, Caitiff pulled back her arm, the grenade already beginning to glow orange. "The few for the many." It wasn’t much of an apology but if any of the other warmasons did hear her she hoped they understood.

krisssss krch-BOOM

The heat flash of the explosion blinded Caitiff temporarily and she only felt the hard ground against her back as she was knocked backwards. The sound of the explosions continued, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM burning the path towards the village. Groaning Caitiff blinked, sight and sound slowly coming back to her. Through the smoke and fire she saw both the bodies Ionias and Noxians scattered around the impact of the first explosion. Caitiff didn’t know any of the warmasons that lay in the rubble, maybe she would have if they had lasted longer in the war, but it was probably for the best that they remained unknown to her. When her first mentor had been killed by pirates she had wept for him almost as much as she had with her mother, Caitiff refused to go through that again. 

There was movement through the smoke, a figure clad in green, they screamed in Navori tongue. Caitiff twitched her limbs trying to get back to her feet, the last standing Ionian noticed the lone warmason and drew their weapon. Clenching the other grenade in hand, Caitiff let them approach, if this was her last and only act in this war she would go to the Wolf on her own terms. A sudden rush of timely footsteps stopped her from making that choice. “Not my sister!” With a wild cleave a dark steel greatsword pierced the torso of the last Ionian, pinning them against a tree. 

“Meg, you're supposed to be on the front lines.” Caitiff coughed as she still struggled to get to her feet. “I was commanded to kill the elder.” The strong arms of her battle sister pulled the young warmason back to her feet. Still dazed, Megaera holds Caitiff in place for a moment to allow her to regain her barrings. “Old fuck fell back into the villages center and is calling vines to push us back.” Meg nods towards the newly burned entrance to the village, Caitiff could see a familiar violent glint in the gloryseekers eye. “Thanks to you I can finish this.”

“Well don’t go in alone.” Caitiff grunted, adjusting her weight to stand on her own. “We were ambushed here, we don't know what they have on the inside.” Megaera just smiled pulling her sword from the tree, Caitiff's would-be killer slumped to the ground with its removal. “Then come with me! Will take it together!” Before the young warmason could respond her battle sister was already charging forward towards the fray. Idiot, for all the Might she had, Meg's longing for acts of glory in the empire's name would sometimes leave her wanting in Vision for her own future. 

Taking stock of her surroundings, Caitiff patted down her belongings; she still had her tools and axe, but she would need more than that to keep up with the gloryseeker. Scattered amongst the remains a slightly charred crossbow stands out. Without hesitation Caitiff takes it along with a handful of bloats, and sprints after her battle sister. 

The path the explosions had made was carved in fire, Caitiff covered her mouth as she ran through the smoke. Before she even got to the village entrance she could already hear Meg clashing with whoever was inside. Quickly forming a plan as she enters, the warmason climbs on top of a ruined building to assess the area. Meg was already locked in combat with three of the green clad fighters, the elder was a few yards away chanting as the vines rumbled beneath the ground, by his side a woman clad in red with a long brimmed hat covering her face.

Knowing her battle sister's prowess, Caitiff was sure Meg could take the fighters herself, their farmers' weapons were nothing compared to Crown. But the woman in red; she stepped forward her movements deliberate hands swayed as if with the wind, in time with her motions small metal daggers floated to her side. A blade witch, it was obvious that this woman would be able to out maneuver Meg before she could even make a strike.

The black power grenade felt heavy in her hand, Meg might be caught in the blast if she acted recklessly, she had to wait for the right moment to act with her battle sister. Quickly parrying a strike, Meg kicks her last attacker's knees knocking him to the ground and deals a finishing blow. Pulling the pin on the grenade, Caitiff holds the glowing bomb as she watches the blade witch rush forward. The gloryseeker raises her blade to block but it would be useless against the multiple daggers flying towards her. “PULL!” Caitiff shouts, as the blade witch leaps towards her target a glowing bomb hitting just behind her. In a split second Meg shifts her stance to dodge away from the blast.

krch-BOOM

.

.

.

"YOUR MINE!"

A wave of adrenaline passed through Caitiff as she hears Megaera’s shout, Yes! She still stands. Reloading the crossbow, Caitiff looks over the roof’s edge she had hidden behind. The blade witch was on the ground stunned from the blast but not dead, leaving the elder exposed. There was a rumbling if only for a moment as if the vines were tunneling through the ground towards Meg, but they wouldn’t make it. Head down, the gloryseeker charges forward and heaves her massive sword to cleave the elders torso from his legs.

For a moment all was still, only the distant sounds of battle from the village's entrance echoed like the growl of a fearsome beast. The blade witch jolted to her feet the blood of her comrades staining the earth around her. “Surrender.” Shuttering the blade witch turned, Meg stood above the two pieces of the elders body, blood and viscera staining her black steel sword. “You can end this fight,” Megaera's demeanor had changed; she stood like a statue, her face calm as she spoke Va-Nox as clearly as possible. “Stand down, and end this bloodshed.” 

“End this bloodshed. . .” Her hat still covering her face did not need to be visible to convey the anger in the blade witch’s broken words. Fingers twitching the discarded blades twitched as well. “FOR IONIA-” thunk           

Megaera had brought up Crown to block the incoming blades but they twisted and spun off wildly as if the strings pulling them along had been suddenly cut. The crossbow bolt had struck the blade witch through the back of her neck, her red hat fell to the floor before her body did. Slowly climbing down from her perch, Caitiff walked over to stand by her battle sister. Meg continued to stand silently, her eyes glazed over in thought.

“She wasn’t like you.” Caitiff spoke softly as she sensed Meg’s unease. “The battle isn’t like what happened in Urtis, your people needed liberation from a tyrant.” Slinging the crossbow over her back, the young warmason softly reached out to take her fellow soldiers hand. “This battle is about revenge for failure. For the ones we lost before.” Caitiff looked up at her battle sister, her only family. “And I refuse to lose you now.” 

"As if I would go down that easily." The gloryseeker hand tightens reassuringly around the warmasons, as she looks back and smiles. "Or ever leave you to die." The cries of victory sounded them as the other legionaries entered the village, Noxtoraa banners rippling in the wind. There were no longer any Ionian souls left in the village to surrender, Noxus had won.

[shikaal]

days had swiftly turned to months , with each passing just as fruitlessly as the next . kayn was gone , there was no doubt about that , but she was determined to find an answer as to why . her first assumption had been that he’d simply forgotten , distracted by the duty that was bound to him . as time went on however , contempt began to grow in her heart . if he simply had no interest in her , she would have accepted such words and continued on her way . why , she could almost enjoy the thought of being a spurned ex lover revelling in a fight , should they ever meet again . 

even those she had asked to keep an eye out on her behalf had turned up nothing  ;  from various innkeepers to kinkou acolytes she had once helped train , none seemed to have caught sight of the other assassin . she knew well how to keep herself hidden when needed , but for so long  ?  something must have been keeping him to the shadows , and thus did her thoughts fall upon the possibility of something she had long been putting off . 

it was time to approach the master of shadows himself . 

her stomach twisted at the thought of seeing the old temple  --  her old home  --  but she had no other choice if she wished to put all thoughts of kayn to rest . 

and so did she find herself traversing old navori , the eerie familiarity of the place keeping it on edge . the temple itself sat isolated upon the steppe , towering over the grassland in all its glory . as she approached she found herself embraced by fond memories , those of running up and down the steps with kennen , of accompanying shen to market and riding on his shoulders upon their triumphant return . 

what had been tinted rose now stood before her , a ghastly sight now that she was to look upon it up close . the vibrant colours of her childhood were washed away , replaced with the dull grey brickwork and creaking wood that appeared like something out of a nightmare . her birthplace was no longer a joy to behold , but a burden on the eyes . 

better make this quick .

she approached the temple brazenly , spinning a kunai around her finger as she approached . eyes fixed upon her , boring holes into her from all angles . a pleasant welcome , really . no more than what could be expected from the order .

“  zed home  ?  ”  she called out , stepping into the courtyard .  “  got a few questions about his parenting skills .  ”

@ofshadowreaping 

[scriptingpenguin]

Family blood

A little nice short story about Sett dealing with some internal issues

With the everyday tension growing in Ionia, few find days of respite and luxury. Noxians were knocking at their door every few days or so. One would always hear of a village or town being torn from Ionia’s beautiful lands. The Noxians cared not for the destruction they left in their wake, their only care was to conquer and reap the lands for their own. 

Navori, a town where a crime lord is at the center. Anyone who dared challenge his word, would find their teeth on the ground. His reputation introduced him to anyone entering the town for the first time. Though there are some who think he is just some bastard child who is throwing a tantrum. In the crowds there were many hooded and cloaked citizens. Two whisper to each other as they keep their heads low, “I swear I saw her come this way…” 

“I cannot believe she slipped from under your nose!” The woman cried. 

“I swear she looked like you! She had all your features!” Her companion argued. 

While the two spoke and scurried through the crowd, there was a copy of the woman traveling in the opposite direction heading to a very dangerous part of town. 

In the pits, roaring and cheering can be heard coming from the stands. Skin on skin, bone on bone, thundering bodies hitting the floor as people fought for their glory or their lives. But under the pits there is a hideout one that was home to the infamous crime lord, Sett. The large half Vastayian wolverine like man slouched on his throne. A body dropped in front of him as the man whimpered and groaned. 

“You took from me something, and you have yet to pay it back. As per our agreement, you will work in the pits.” Sett gruffed staring down at the insect before him. He could almost taste the fear emanating from the lowlife.

“Take him away, his damn whimpering is giving me a headache.” He waved the man off as one of his subordinates gripped the man’s neck and dragged him out of the room. Sighing to himself, Sett looked over to his right hand, “Is that the last one? I need a break. It’s another one of those days.”

The woman nodded and put down the list in her hands, “Yes boss, that was the last one.”

With a groan the dark red headed man stood from his throne and walked out of the room with his hands deep in his pockets. He slowly paced through the hallways his head lost in thought. He sat on a bench and groaned with his head in his hands. 

“Same shit everyday. These Noxian fucks think they can run into my territory and try to take from me. You’d think with the few I send home packing with bruises and broken bones would tell their friends to keep away.” He huffed as he stared down at his feet, “And I keep getting reminded of the bad blood I have. Anytime I look at one of their faces.”

He would see feet approach him, “You sound like you need someone to talk to…” His eyes looked up to see a noxian woman in a cloak. As if a switch flipped in him, he stood up and swung his fists at the woman. 

“Fucking Noxian bitch how did you get in here?!” He growled.

The woman backed away and quickly her form changed into something more, her. The chameleon like girl looked over at him with her hands up, “W-wait, Neeko is not Noxian! She is just Vastayian! Well not really more Vastayashai'rei. But I am not a stinky Noxian!”

Sett’s demeanor completely changed from attack, to confusion. “Vataya-what? Sorry I am not really too intuned with my Vastayian side, though I should be. Question stands at how did you get here? And how did you do that?” 

Neeko transformed herself to look like Sett and giggled, “It’s magic! Neeko and her people can copy peoples Shoma! Oh that is another word you might not know… Um peoples auras I guess? Oh and Vastayashai'rei is what you might call the first of the Vastayians! My people are direct descendants!”

Sett looked at his mirror copy and tilted his head. “Wow, you really do look exactly like me… Even got my scar right. Huh, I needa shave a little… Wait do you copy everything?” He looks up and down his mirror. 

“What do you mean?” Neeko turned back into herself and looked up at the man.

“Well do you have… Actually nevermind. Also, no I don’t need to talk to anyone!” He growled.

Neeko sat down on the bench and smiled, “Its okay! We are like family! You can tell big sister Neeko all your problems and I can help in my own Neeko way!”

He raised a brow looking at her then shook his head, “We are not ‘family’ my only family is my ma who I love with all my heart.” 

“Not true! We are family! We share the same blood! Although your blood might have a lot more peoples in it. And aren’t these other people in this home your family?” 

Sett took a step back and let out an  exaggerated groan, “I mean, yea I guess? But calling me family is not a good thing. I am a damn Noxian bastard child who has the best and prettiest mom in the world.” 

Neeko’s ears perked up, “Pretty mom?! Neeko wanna see! Not as pretty as my Nidalee though!” 

Sett’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the chameleon, “No because you might turn into her. And that would be weird for me.”

“Sorry Neeko got off topic. But you are more than just that! Neeko can tell by your Shoma that you care deeply for mama! You may have bad things in your blood but that shouldn’t mean you are bad! You are you! You can be Vastayian, or Noxian, or even just Ionian if you want! You yourself defines you, not your blood! My tribe is my family, but Nidalee is also family! She helped Neeko when she was in trouble and Neeko is very happy for it!” 

Neeko hopped up and poked at the man’s chest, “Hating yourself just makes you wanna punch things! And if you are too busy hating yourself, where will your love for mama come from!” 

Sett looks at the girl in awe as she may talk funny but she is spitting out some major truth. Soon his right hand comes walking in with two cloaked Noxians being dragged by their collars, “Boss I found these two snooping around  and- wait who is she and how did she get here?”

The two Noxians pointed at Neeko, “There she is!”

Neeko ran behind Sett and hid, “Those two tried to capture Neeko. She ran from them both. That is how Neeko got here.”

Sett’s eyes threw fire at the two Noxians as he walked over to them. “Let me handle this.” His right hand dropped them both and walked off glaring over at Neeko. Neeko transformed into her and giggled at her, “Neeko thinks you are pretty…”

Cracking his knuckles he lifted one up by the scruff of his neck, “You Noxians never learn, Don’t Fuck With My People!” He reeled back and knocked out a few teeth from the man. He dropped his bloodied face on the floor and glared at the woman, “Get out of my town before I throw you both in the pits. I see either of your mugs again and I will do more than just take out a few teeth.”

 The two screamed out and ran out while Neeko smiled and tapped Sett’s shoulder, “Is Neeko your people?”

Sett smirked a little and nodded, “Yes she is. Thanks. Your a funny little one. You ever need help around here, let me know.”

“Well, Neeko could use a nice place to stay for the night, maybe next door to the pretty lady?”

[visionofnoxus]

To counter this wave of thirst: Everyone knows of the Trifarian legion. Give us three other legions that are renown throughout the empire, who leads them, what their field of specialty are and where they served.

// So, we do not have much of knowledge of other Noxian legions in canon, just that they exist. But here are several homages to old lore. For sake of clarity, I’ve in this blog used Trifarians as a standard of excellence. But to be completely accurate, Trifarian Legion is general Darius’ personal legion. And no other legions have Trifarians. They are called something else. However, three other forces I’d be willing to admit to headcanons.

The Raedsel, also sometimes called the Raven’s Guard. Grand General Swain’s personal force. 

Swain served in Noxian military continuously for over 20 years before becoming grand general. He rose steadily in rank throughout the first ten years, shaping the legion he’d been embedded to into a force fitting for him to eventually take command of. Their fighting strategy was hones during Noxus’ Shuriman expansion. In somewhat unorthodox fashion, general Swain chose to equip majority of his force with medium and light armor, as opposed to Noxus’ usual heavy or extremely light or even unarmored forces. To make up for this lack of armor, the Raesel prefer pikes, pole-arms and shields to keep the distance between themselves and the enemy, forming defensive lines against which their enemy breaks upon. Swain did include small portions of cavalry elements and traditional heavy infantry into his force though, and these forces are used to strike hammer blows and leverage counter-attacks upon the tired out enemy, once they’ve first exhausted themselves against the defensive lines.

This troop was destroyed in it’s entirety and the very banner of the legion lost at the Great Stand at Navori. Swain resurrected the force after his ascension to power, but to this day, the banner of the Raedsel remains lost, either destroyed or in the hands of some Ionian veteran. The loss of his entire legion is one of the few grudges Swain carries to this day, understanding why and how it happened, yet bitter none the less even after all these years.

The Bloodletters Legion, led by general Meria Hanmar. The legion was likely formed as an imitation of the Hand of Noxus’ iconic force, the Trifarian Legion. 

They are almost exclusively infantry. Heavy infantry. Ideally, they are placed at the front lines in a position where the enemy’s strike will be hardest, after which Bloodletters engage in a long battle of attrition, bleeding the enemy force dry against themselves. High casualty numbers do not greatly concern them and many consider them a warband of glory hounds. If they are tasked with wider objectives than “stand here and kill everything”, the Bloodletters’ force is supplemented with expendable chaff forces, mercenaries or specialist units such as warmasons and siege weapon teams.

Duqal Marines, is subordinated by the order of Grand General Swain to Kalan, the vastaya who acts as the governor of the Ionian fortress city of Fae’Lor. 

Named after the admiral who led large portion of the Ionian Campaign, this troop was scraped together from the naval assets remaining in Ionia after the Noxians’ defeat at the battle of Dalu Bay. The force carries the name of the admiral Duqal who was killed in said battle and was one of the key architects of the original invasion plan alongside general Swain. A naval infantry force, they specialize in rapid deployment and fighting on ships or Ionian archipelago. The name is both a source of pride and shame for the marines, who look forward to one day possibly evening out the score and clearing their name.

[matronpersephone]

(tw: torture, mention of unconsenting intercourse, mention of death)

The man quivered against his confinements and the rope burn restored his conciousness crippled back to him instantly, to return him from the promised lands of dreams to the agonizing hell of reality. Count your blessings, they say. So little his moments of bliss seemed, so quick to pass and fleet through the cracks on his fingers like the river waters, he whaled in protest almost pathetically. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to plea, but his tears had dried, his throat had turned sore and his remorse was exhausted, upon deaf eyes. The memory of his wife and his son seemed a distant haze, a wild summer dream and the thought alone of reconnecting with his family was no longer written in his stars. Alas, life was short, so short, so much shorter actually than all he had reckoned. And for that, he lost faith, he lost ambition, he lost sorrow and as all emotion turned to mold from the inside out, he was turned into a shell of his former self, a cheap replica of his days of glory and youth. Life was a game that could take the right player anywhere; now she was collecting unpaid debts and there was no cheating this round. Only reckoning.

He was handsome and strong, and his eyes burned with mischief and desire. But who was he now? Or what, really? The man could only just barely see in this sea of darkness and the goddess of the moon was mayhaps feeling merciful for one final time to grace her light, through one hollow crack on the ceiling this one ray of pale silver, taking a leap of faith into the void of his prison, granting him one glimpse of life again. He crouched closer, thirsty for her grace, thirsty for her saviour, and he cupped the silver in the bloodied hold of his palms, trying to delight what tiny beauty remained in the world. When did he become so mindful of nature, when did he finally grow eyes to see the beauty and when did he find the clarity in his mind to treasure the on going moments of mortality? Death truly changes people and those that meet the dead, they are never one and the same again. Perhaps this explained why now, of all times, he did, finally, truly see. And perhaps he owes even gratitude to her.

---

Maymm has always been an adversary for quick, clean kills. The purpose of the executioner is not to bring suffering, but to carry out a fatal sentence. It is never their responsibility to measure guilt and justice; once jurisdiction has been spoken, the executioner obeys. And perhaps she is right. For all her nonsensical blabbering, maybe this one time Maymm was not a self congratulatory fool, but actually precise. Nothing quite compared to a swift, spontaneous kill. To steal their breath, to stop their hearts, to overshadow the light behind their eyes and to let their thoughts and their minds and their hopes and their beliefs all bleed peacefully into eternity forevermore, to end a life and to bring a halt to years upon years of pursuits and endeavours and to all that made a person this one, specific person, all in but a split moment in this infinite line of time; that is orgasmic. Maymm never taught her the amusement in a kill, she just had to learn it her own way. For as long as she remembers, the she had to rely upon her own strengths and efforts to teach herself all the necessary lessons to survive in this world and understand it. Well, clearly enough to turn her into an assassin like no other of her kind. Because who other of her own would ever take joy in such cruelty, misery, suffering than the only one with a brave spirit and a huntress' heart. Quick kills are good; sometimes, prolonged is better. And in the case of such scumbags, who dirtied her land with their crimes and shed the blood of her people, oooh! Prolonged was (really) the better of the two.

--

The silver in his hands clashes on the smooth surface of perfectly sharp steel, gliding smoothly on the sharp edges of the weapon and reflecting in the four corners of this room. The man flinches with horror and he collapses on the flayed, butchered muscles of his back, to no avail but a surge of pain that paralyzed him again. The woman was quiet, so quiet always, so discreet when she danced in the dark and she moved unseen, unheard and unparalleled in the shadows. He never noticed her, not him and definitely not his companions, albeit their magical properties. Had the woman no influence over the spirit realm, or were they so reckless they failed to detect her? Impossible. Impossible, that with no magic one could ever be so swift, so precise, so deadly. Impossible that one could ever circle seven mercenaries so quietly, move so quickly and kill them, one by one, always with one, perfect blow so efficiently. He watched the six, as they surrendered to the sweet embrace of death all around him, their skin turning pale and cold before they hit the ground, and he was left lone, to face judgement. For the first time in his life, afraid. Scared. Horrified.

--

She likes the fear. Fear is necessary. There can be no respect and no integrity without fear in the spirits of one's enemies. This was, all along, why Ionia had to suffer before she learned her lesson. The old ways worked for the past, but the future did not adhere to the laws of yesterday and thankfully, someone was making sure the laws were on their side of the field this time. So yes, a bit of brutality here and there? That was just some necessary evil. From Navori, to Weh'le and to Puboe, or anywhere else in Ionia, criminals of the war remained hidden, outcasts that were condemned when their evil dreams sank and their ambitions were met with nothing but the wrath of justice. (Someone) had to pull out the weeds and end this infestation because if no one did so much, there will be no tree for her former masters to Prune. Well, and the thrill of the hunt made it all the more exciting.

She turned him over with the heel of her shoe. Poor bastard did not make a pretty sight no more. For a gang leader and a traitor of his homeland, who gambled on the misfortune of his people and tried to chase privileges in foreign empires, he was quite the charm. But now most of all that was lost and the true ugliness of himself was brought to the light. Of course that required some little help of her kama, that was unsurprisingly quite the effective thing. He was given a choice, after all, to confess his guilt and spurt out his secrets, in exchange for a quick passing; he declined. So why would she feel remorseful for her actions, like for one when she first dag deep her blade into his skin and peeled his entire arm off with the precision of a mad surgeon, or when he tried to strike her for a wild attempt to freedom and she slashed the fingers of his feet? Or when she caught lies in his testimony and he forced her to slice across chest and lower torso, smoothly removing the ugly clothing so that perhaps when his heart would come closer to the light he would at least feel less confident in his escaping efforts? She loved that one, watching the steel glide so effortlessly, like scissors on paper, almost brushing against the bones. Perhaps the Kinkou was not so useless, teaching her all about human anatomy and that much. It definitely brought the two so much closer.

He weakly moved his head, with every fiber of his dying being begging only with his eyes. He had seen a kunai before, it killed all his friends so peacefully and what he feared now he longed desperately for. She tilted her scalp. "Oh this? Yeah, it can probably end the pain," she jabbed with a smirk. "But I'm not sure I should do that little favour for you. You see, you turned on my people and then you tried to hide from punishment. You kind of became my problem. And I'm really good at dealing with my problems."

The ghost closes his eyes and flails weakly, as he cries but his tears come no more. But he can hear her smile. It's wicked, it's cruel and it has a voice of its own, that he will remember even when he reaches the skies, the spirit be good. His whole life he fought for a better future for his child, for a chance to save her from the poverty of their family, the cold of the winter and the cruel hunger. His whole life Ionia turned its back on his child that lived in the streets and when he turned his back on them in return, is this what he deserves? To hell with honour and patriotism, they never kept mouths fed; the invaders did. The invaders sheltered them and gave them seats at the table. So to hell with this righteous wench, to hell with it all, why was he so undeserving of a quick death?

But she never answered, she never asked, she never doubted and she never pondered. Why would she ponder, on a killer of the defenseless? On an enabler of the tyrants? On a selfish fool that brought the blades of the enemy into their land and guided them into the bodies of the weak? They murdered, they usurped, they raped and for what? The honour of dying in the wars of someone else that proclaimed himself a righteous conqueror? Was that it, a life any better? Was that enough to trade the suffering of thousands? Was that worth the trauma that now scars them?

Akali doesn't think so. Now twilight falls, and forgiveness is a privileged the guilty have lost.

[aurelion-solar]

Sett, the Boss - Legends of Runeterra Splash Art

[furtiveseal]

Okay Karma Sett might actually be my current favourite deck, it scratches my Timmy itches sooo perfectly I think it should be illegal. FTR control got rotated but Riot still gave us big mana fans something to work with and I think I prefer it actually. Karma doubling coins is absolutely absurd and I love it. Also double Showstopper fucks, try spellshielding THAT you nerds

[dire-straits-fn8ic]

Legends of Runeterra is a great game because there's nothing I like more than a value engine. I'm all about that simulated economy, baby!

[impostores0o]

Sett,The boss League of legends All credits to: Riot games, Alex Flores, Lindsay Ruiz Champion I

"Bein' the boss... is a lot better than not bein' the boss."- Sett

Sett 3D model Wild Rift

"I don't like hurtin' people. I like the money I get from hurtin' people." The Boss

Legends of Runeterra: Glory in navori

Sett cards

"Every single one of 'em thinks they're the one to beat me. *laughs* 'Kay." Sett

"Wonder if they make silk pants for these things..." SETT.

- "All profits go to cutting-edge research!"

[frivolouscollection]

Thoughts & Ramblings: The Ionia lore update.

Teased in the Nexus blog “Narrative in 2018″ , it will come as now surprise that Irelia’s rework will be released alongside a new lore update (LU), which is intended to be a featurette for the continent and champions of Ionia.

I know the topic for this LU will focus on Ionia’s “Harmonious and disharmonious glory.” This is something of which if you’re already familiar with League’s lore, it seems that the social and political landscape of a traditionally pacifist country has changed because of the Noxian Invasion. Now the denizens of Ionia need heroes to aggressively fight back at oppressors, Iralia just being one among a few new radical protectors.    

So keeping this all in mind, I’m making a prediction of which champions from Ionia I’m certain will finally get their own lore updated this time around:

Zed: To me he seem like a no-brainer, since it was the war crimes of the Noxian invaders (and the Kinkou’s refusal to help defend civilians) that drove Zed to rebel, then organize his own profound militia. The Order of Shadows also happens to be inspired by the Navori Brotherhood who are all but confirmed to be lead by Irelia.

And as much as the Order of Shadows would begin to train new disciples and protect defenseless villagers, they’re also a rather violent group. Matching the Noxians in merciless combat, growing hostile with ideologically opposed Ionians and Vastaya alike, even stealing natural magic from the landscape for their own interests. Hell, if you ask me (and this is in my own opinion) the Order of Shadows come off as a bit fascist in nature, definitely would describe them as “disharmonious” that’s for sure.

Karma: Being a particular important Elder, Karma fills the role of most influential individual in the nation, exemplifying ancient traditions and carrying profound wisdom from the memories of her forebears. Which it will come to no surprise means she’s exceptional in spiritual magic. 

In the old lore Karma’s narrative revolved around being torn between maintaining pacifist tradition and indulging in righteous vengeance. It’s hard to say exactly what Karma would do in times of crisis but we know there are apparent consequences if she uses her powers for violence and so I can only assume Karma has a hard time resorting to strife. Which likely concludes in her (I’m sure reluctant) compliance with deceiving oppressors.     

Even Irelia saying "Your 'peace' leads to nothing but extermination!" 

[spiritknife]

The Raven's Shadow

So I entered the league fan fiction competition and wrote a story about the lovely Swain forging a contract with his demon. (Ever wondered what happened to Beatrice, btw?)

* * *

One could never imagine the thrill of war until you were among it. The fear, the desperation, the agonised screams, all caused by a mortal man’s greed. That was how great nations always fell. A wonder that mankind never learn from their mistakes.

Crows cawed, delighted at the feast presented to them, fresh corpses staining the once colourful plains before the Placidium of Navori, the heart of Ionian culture turned slaughterhouse as Noxian and Ionian alike fought tirelessly. None saw the demon that lurked in their company, picking her way across the battlefield, happily plucking up souls as they left their bodies in a dance of writhing shadows and long, wispy white hair. Crimson eyes roved over the piles of felled men as she feasted on their dying breaths but with each one she began to lose interest. Most of her ravens joined her in her banquet, not daring to roam far from their master, yet some insisted on circling ahead.

A sudden growl of torment rang through the ashen sky, tearing the demon’s attention to a peculiar scene; a man kneeling before a child, his severed arm held high above her head as he bled from several wounds. The ravens circled the two like vultures, ready to strike.

Gliding before the man, she slowly examined his features with a judgemental eye, wondering how it would feel to open his wounds with her nails, gauging just how much pain he could feel, when their eyes met. His silver hair was unbound and tinted with his own blood, as it whipped around his face, seconds stretching on for eternity as the demon bristled her wings. His brown eyes were so very interesting, wreathed in shadow but seemingly glowing a fiery gold in the sunset light as he bled out from what was to be a fatal wound. Pure, unbridled rage seethed from that stare, like an uncaged beast, burning with a passion so intense it threatened to scald her; the demon was giddy with excitement. His fervour spoke intimately with her own – this human was as much a monster as she was.

It was then that the demon decided: Jericho Swain would not die today.

A devilish grin on her lips, she snapped two clawed fingers, bathing the battlefield in shadow, an eerie red moon illuminating her back. Ravens flocked to her, cawing and screeching in ecstasy as she released her shadows, towering over Swain as he knelt before her, entering his psyche.

‘Jericho…’ she contemplated. ‘What a lovely name.’

***

Time itself stopped before him as Swain saw the woman. The agony from his lost arm, the exhaustion from blood loss melting away as if they had never been in the first place.

Her form was hard to discern, pulsing and writhing, the only constant a pair of glowing red eyes, lit like fires from the deepest volcanoes, ancient magic flowing from the source. One could only imagine what those eyes had seen. He could barely make out a pair of smirking lips, pale skin and flowing white hair that tapered off into shadow. It was like looking through a rippling lake. What he could see was beautiful, there was no doubt, but it seemed wrong, almost criminal, to compare her to a human. Huge wings graced her back, broad and magnificent, with feathers fashioned from shadow, matching the ravens that stood at her command and the darkness that caressed her skin.

He knew when she spoke why he could barely muster a breath. He had seen her before.

Images flew through his thoughts, distant memories he’d thought long forgotten. Not her body, not her wings, he’d glimpsed the ravens but never in detail. No, he had seen her in a way he could never begin to describe with mortal words. Her scarlet glare, her darkness shrouding the streets of his city, her magic in the longing eyes of the Black Rose as they’d breathed their final breaths. It was all but confirmed.

She was not a demon. She was the demon.

Remaining eerily still, the tactician within him set to work, calculating advantages as she smiled in understanding, as though she had granted him the information herself, despite not having spoken another word.

‘How would you like to live, my dear?’ the demon finally asked, extending a clawed hand towards his injured arm, the words not matching the masked venom.

He finally was able to peer down at the stump that was his left arm, the blood frozen in a gruesome cascade but the general did not show despair, regret or weakness. Instead, his lips spread into a fierce grin, a cruel laugh barking between them as the passionate fire behind his eyes was reignited.

Oh how you’ve failed, Pale Lady! He thought as he glimpsed the demon for what she could be to him: the most destructive weapon Noxus had ever seen. The Black Rose’s manipulation had sent him to a battle they knew would be his end, how wonderful it would be to return strong enough to take the throne himself. He could not only rule his kingdom – he could rule the world with her help.

Reaching to meet her hand, their gaze met once more and a bond was formed, an agreement, forged in the face of death: glory, power, victory in return for his soul and humanity. The stump glowed like the crimson moon above, a hand twisting from shadow to grasp hers as the ravens took flight around the pair. The deal had been settled, the partnership commenced.

‘Make me strong,’ he said with a smirk, tightening his grip. ‘And I’ll let you feast on the souls of millions of our enemies.’ The red moon started to fade, shadows receding as she thrust her very being into his body however just as her face faded, he asked, ‘What is your name?’

The demon whispered in his thoughts, a name he never thought to hear again.

‘My name is Beatrice.’

https://boards.euw.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fan-fiction/L8BoIevv-never-one-contest-entry-the-ravens-shadow