EquyNoxius (EUNE)
: **[screaming internally] **Thank you so much for all the effort you put into the contest! Also Im grateful to everyone who participated since I got to read plenty of great stories which have surely helped develop my writing for future entries! FOR NOXUS ! {{sticker:darius-angry}}
Awwwwww! https://media.giphy.com/media/l4JySAWfMaY7w88sU/source.gif
Marissa (EUW)
: When your last sentence yields: "FOR NOXUS" and yet you are considered Demacia! https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/leagueoflegends/images/d/d7/Oh_No_Emote.png/revision/latest?cb=20180614205008 Oh No! ######hehehehehehehe, I really like dat emote
: > [{quoted}](name=Cactusgrill,realm=EUW,application-id=yTagKVTg,discussion-id=WNNQ0wZg,comment-id=001c0000,timestamp=2018-07-16T03:55:26.527+0000) > > Moving and epic story! GJ! > > https://media.giphy.com/media/26hpKMTa5HgdSMhRC/200.gif > > Thank you so much, for participating! Thank you for reading and taking some time to leave a nice comment on my story. <3 Would it be ok to post here my 2600~ words final version of the story? I cut a lot of things out so as not to upset ppl with 1000 words and I was waiting for the competition to be over. Should I wait until you announce the winners or is it ok to post now? (just to clarify: this is not my submission, I do not wish to submit another story, it would be unfair. I am asking permission to post, to make sure it's allowed) (Since you genuinely seem to enjoy reading these stories, could you maybe check this one out too?) *puppy dog eyes* {{sticker:sg-soraka}}
Sure, feel free to leave your final version here. We already picked the winners, and the post gonna get live in some minutes! :) You can already share it! I would love to read it! Already prepared my Poro-Snax! {{sticker:sg-poppy}}
EquyNoxius (EUNE)
: Im glad <333 Looking forward to the next event !{{champion:122}} {{item:3070}}
BloopyLad (EUW)
: Yeah it was good fun :D Thanks
Yay! {{sticker:sg-lux}}
Rioter Comments
Sparlexna (EUW)
: Looking for a level 1-15 account user to do the quest (Add me Sparlexna Im online)
Shiwah (EUW)
: If you manage to get back to level 2, yes.
Fast and the furious reply! {{sticker:sg-miss-fortune}}
RekKinnG (EUW)
: Hey! How can I join?
Just add me ingame: Cactusgrill {{sticker:sg-ahri-2}}
RekKinnG (EUW)
: Just a man tired of playing alone.
Hey Reece! I do very often community games. Feel free to join! {{sticker:slayer-pantheon-thumbs}}
BelBelBlaze (EUNE)
: Add something to spend leftover RP on
jacktjong (EUW)
: Idk if its my pc but I can't?? I'm using Chrome which I suppose should work
Yes it works! On the top, where the board tab is oben, click right click and choose "mute tab". There u go! {{sticker:slayer-jinx-wink}}
Tricky LB (EUW)
: End Season Rewards
The new season rewards are now bound to the honor level. You have to reach atleast honor level 2, to receive the rewards! {{sticker:slayer-pantheon-thumbs}}
Weeely (EUW)
: error '' EM05 ''
Hey there! Does the error still persist? If yes, let me know and I will fix it for ya! {{sticker:slayer-jinx-wink}}
Solash (EUW)
: Yo. So mine's kinda long (About 1600 words, hope that's still eligible) and i'm not sure if we're supposed to just drop it in the comments like this, but here's what i got: _When the soldiers returned to their kingdom with bare faces and ruined armor, what they brought back with them dealt a heavier blow to the kingdom than any weapon. Demacia’s king was nowhere in sight, and in his stead at the front of the returning party, carried by four ironclad knights, was a single stone coffin. The town square near the city gates, which was usually abuzz with celebration and tribute whenever warriors returned, was at this time silent. There was no official relaying the horrific news, no screams or crying from the crowd. Several citizens collapsed to their knees in shock, faces devoid of emotion, but none spoke. The silence was deafening. Garen, struggling to keep his footing as he stumbled down the stone road, was barely able to keep himself together through it. He wanted to scream, he wanted to be the one fill the empty void of the city, but the guilt and the shame of being unable to protect his friend from a single Noxian suffocated him._ _Demacia mourned the loss of their king well over a week. The atmosphere of the city, usually proud and radiant, was much more sunken and defeated. Jarvan’s death was not the only burden the kingdom had to shoulder. The war with Noxus had reached its climax, and they had sustained several crushing losses already. The destruction to property and life was immeasurable, even the living petricite colossus, the very symbol of Demacia’s resolve, had been destroyed during the efforts to pushback Noxus. Yet even its destruction was nothing compared to the aftershock of Jarvan’s demise._ _Garen however did not have the luxury of grieving his best friend. Even when he hid himself away in solitude to mourne, he would still be ripped away by the royal administration and military officials to discuss matters of the crown._ _With no legitimate heir to speak of, there was no 5th Jarvan with which to inherit the title of king. With succession by bloodline now out of the picture, Demacia’s new lord would need to be selected through less….official methods._ _During his life, Jarvan was very clear that should be fall before producing a suitable heir, his childhood friend Garen would be his successor. Garen would always laugh off these assertions whenever Jarvan brought it up, as if they were the drunken ramblings of his fellow warrior. He never imagined that possibility would become reality. Despite the honour, this didn’t help soothe Garen’s present mental state. Far from in fact. Garen failed to protect his old friend, now he was expected to replace him? He felt even more like Garen was spitting on the former king’s grave._ _Despite this, Garen reluctantly accepted the responsibility. Regardless of his feelings of inadequacy and guilt, Demacia needed a guiding hand in these trying times. And if it had to be him, so be it._ _Time went on and Demacia began to rebuild and recover. With a new king, the kingdom had a renewed sense of purpose, and the confidence of its citizens and warriors was greater than ever. Garen slowly managed to adjust to the tasks and responsibilities of king. Despite strong resistance, Noxus still clawed at their door, and Garen’s eyes were constantly set at keeping them at bay. With the shifting landscape of the kingdom and Garen’s life however, his mind too changed. What were once feelings of grief and guilt towards the loss of Jarvan became thoughts of anger. For the first time since, Garen started seriously considering the events of his friend’s death. During the battle of Blackiron Creek, Jarvan was slain from the shadows by a Noxian assassin. A magical assassin no less, who blasted Jarvan with a stream of violet thunder. Garen pondered greatly the magic involved there. Demacia had always been extremely cautious and defensive towards magic, but its role in their king’s demise justified an even stricter attitude to it. After this consideration, Garen gathered several of his most trusted advisors and generals for a special council, and put forward his new intentions._ _“Use magic?!” Zerone spat, the advisor caught off guard by the king’s decree.”_ _“Indeed.” Garen calmly responded leaning pensively forward in his throne, “Magic and sorcery has always been a thorn in our kingdom’s side. Even more insulting, it led to the downfall of our king. It is time we eliminate it from the equation.”_ _“But your majesty,” Zerone responded, “We have already made great efforts in that regard, Demacia has resisted and removed magic that posed a threat to our homeland for hundreds of years--”_ _“Correction.” Garen interrupted, “We have TOLERATED magic. We have purged it when found, and defended against it when our enemies use it against us. Perhaps it is high time we used that power for ourselves, strike our enemies back with their own weapon.”_ _Garen rose from his throne. Luxanna, who had was anointed Garen’s right hand advisor, nervously watched from the side of the throne, yet made an effort not to break her posture._ _“By order of your king,” Garen loudly spoke, “Any and all sources of magic within our walls are to be gathered and brought before me. To that end, any latent sorcerers in the city shall also be summoned. We...no, I will take this magic for myself and use it to defend our glorious kingdom.”_ _The whole room fell silent. After a brief moment Cleybyn, one of Demacia’s finest generals, raised his voice_ _“And if said any sorcerers should resist, your grace?” he questioned._ _Garen paused for a moment before responding._ _“Then they die.” He brazenly decreed._ _And thus by his order, any source of magic within Demacia was brought before the throne and used to increase Garen’s own power. Over several months, hundreds of latent mages were torn from their homes and forced to bequeath their power to their king. Most gave up their power, fearful of the consequences should they object. Those that did object were mercilessly struck down by the king’s own hand. Before long, Garen became a being of potent energy and power, and his incontestable role in the kingdom became more and more apparent._ _One night, within the royal chambersd Lux hastily shoved her belongings into a bag and shrouded herself in a hooded cloth. Lux had always struggled to hide her power from the military’s watchful eyes. With the kingdom’s even heightened attention to magic however, she believed it impossible to keep it hidden for much longer._ _Managing to sneak out of the castle and royal quarters, Lux made her way in the dead of night to the city’s edges. She was close to the city gates and was but a hundred metres from freedom. Freedom however would not be granted to her so easily._ _“Halt!” a familiar voice bellowed through the street. The sound shook Lux to her core, and she reluctantly turned back to her pursuers._ _About 20 or so royal knights encircled a blazing figure in the middle of the road several metres from Lux. A few of them stood aside to let their king pass. Lux could hardly recognize the figure’s radiant glowing eyes and pompous regal armor as that of her brother’s. Lux did her best to act cool and conjure some believable facade._ _“Ah brothe-- I mean, your majesty. I was simply going out for some fresh air.”_ _Garen scoffed_ _“In cloaked rags, without an escort, right next to the city gates?” The king inquired, “Do you take me for a fool, sister?” _ _Lux stuttered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_ _“There is no need for concern, sister.” The king responded calmly, “If you come back to the castle we will make sure your perjury is perfectly comfortable.”_ _Lux took a moment to process what her brother said, before regaining her posture._ _“So you knew?” She asked brazenly._ _“Power courses through me,” Garen responded, “Naturally i’d feel if my own bloodline had any.”_ _The king stepped forward his his arm outstretched. _ _“Come home sister, do what is right.” Garen offered warmly._ _Lux took a stepped further away from her brother. _ _“Right?”, She spat, “This isn’t right! You’re taking power that isn’t yours for yourself!”_ _“For the greater good, sister.” The king replied, calm as ever._ _“Good?” Lux cried, “Power, no matter the cost? Killing, torturing those that stand up to you? That’s not what a king should do….that’s no better than Noxus!”_ _That line struck a nerve in Garen, and he began approaching Lux more aggressively, his hand reaching for his blade._ _“Sister.” he began, “Do not betray your country like this. Do not betray your king.”_ _Lux’s eyes darted across the street. Her brother and the knights that followed him drew their weapons and came at her slowly. Any intention of taking her peacefully was now non-existent. Just as Garen was about to draw his weapon at her, she desperately conjured magic within her._ _A flash of light erupted from Lux’s palm, illuminating the empty street. The king and his guards were caught off guard and blinded for a moment. Even their godlike king could not keep his gaze unshielded. When the light subsided, Lux had vanished. Garen tensed up in anger. One of his guards approached him._ _“My lord, should we chase her?” the guard asked.”_ _Garen grit his teeth for a moment. He felt enormous feelings of anger and betrayal briefly. But he was above those feelings now, so they vanished quickly._ _“Let her go.” Garen decreed, making his way back towards the castle, “A god has no need to care for the fate of but one of his subjects.”_
My reaction after I finished reading your story: https://media.giphy.com/media/yAbUh7yrMK9YA/giphy.gif Really good! Thank you so much for being part of the contest. :)
: The Howl of Noxus Aggression, discipline, relentlessness - That’s how the warrior Darius earned tremendous respect in Noxus. With a sinister and strict stare, his mighty and terrifying Battleaxe firm in hand, he glanced out of the stone round arch window. A self-confident grin flickered across his scarred face. He had drastic changes in mind for Noxus’ future, pridefully dead set upon them being successful. He looked over his shoulder as he heard a faint, hoarse laugh. Full of enthusiasm, Draven swung his axes, threw a questioning glance at Darius. “It’s time, isn’t it, brother?” A short, ominous silence followed that question, Darius just gazed into the Distance. He turned around slowly and looked sternly into his brother's crazy eyes, while he stroked the ragged blade of his mighty axe with his bare hand - “It is time already,....brother.” Weeks passed as the Noxian army commanded by Darius and his brother marched through the scorching heat of the Shuriman landscape. Their red banners buffeted with sand and their knees ached with exhaustion. They pressed onward. The harsh, desolate dunes felt endless, half their supplies were destroyed from the earlier Xer'sai attack, and a quarter of their men with them, morale was low and even Darius himself began to feel the futile ambition of his campaign creeping behind him. However, after what felt like hours, he faintly saw a cave in the distance, a place to recover and rejuvenate with what little they had left, a hope that this conquest wasn't fruitless. In the shade, the battalion regained its strength, ate and spoke amongst themselves, Darius, on the other hand, stood brooding at the back end of the cave system, both hands rested on the pommel of his axe, rummaging in his thoughts, thinking about the future of Noxus, and the massive threat now posed to it: Garen, first Demacian guard, now God-king, a being of immeasurable strength that stood to annihilate the likes of the Noxian people, to create a world of order, of despotism, an absolute nightmare. He could not let this stand, yet even he, despite his strength and renown, felt humbled against his rival, a taste of disgust goes through his mouth. "Brother, when should the men continue the march?" Draven intruded, with his ever so frustrating grin plastered on his face. "Command them to get into formation, I will follow shortly." With that and a final brooding glare into the black abyss that was the rest of the cave, the general picked himself up and slowly walked out into the sweltering sun once more, mind set on one thing and one thing alone: Godhood. Yet, as these thoughts began to swirl, he saw his commanded battalion of hundreds stand in perfect formation before him. Each and every one of them a proud Noxian soul, clad in gray steel wielding swords and spears and each one more loyal to their nation, and their general than the next, all of their collective strength and force of will cemented to follow whatever orders are given to them. Their numbers may have dwindled, but Darius knew they would not fail him. After hours of continued exhaustion, the sun finally set, coloring the sandy horizon in a golden brown hue, a welcome change as the lunar glow began bathing the desert, vanquishing the heat and the searing light. Through the darkness, Darius finally saw the silhouette of what he hoped was the goal he's been tirelessly working towards, a massive structure, made of dark granite and alloy that still housed a shine despite what must have been an eternity of being weathered by sandstorms, with blood red jewels peppering its massive entrance and a height that reached to the clouds, it was here: The temple of the God-king. Darius brandished his battle axe and grabbed a lantern, before commanding Draven and his men to stand guard at the entrance, much to his brother's discontent as he heard his dissatisfied complaints on his way in. But that didn't matter to him then, nothing did, nothing except for finally being able to tear down Garen's vision of a world subjugated to his will. As he walked into the temple his vision was severely limited, the place was so colossal it was almost as if it was built to house entire cities, yet as his aimless trek finally reached what seemed to be the great hall of the temple. The room was in shambles, from long metal tables set to feed hundreds split in half and destroyed to enormous cracks and craters on the bejeweled floor patterns. Yet the centerpiece of this empire of ruins was the throne set high above everything else, ivory white arched and layered with a golden outline above a large flight of stairs, still in perfect condition, still inhabited by the corpse of its ruler. Darius composed himself as he attempted to process the overwhelming sight before him, he felt a small nudge of fear, birthed of the unknown that he has just been absorbed into, but he was no fool, he has come too far to turn away now. With distinction in his figure, he took his first steps onto the spotless ivory stairs, one step after the other the throne got closer, the power of the corpse still lying on it emanating stronger the closer it got, but he wouldn't stop, he kept walking towards it until he was a hair's length away. Both the body and the throne that housed it was sizeable, the fallen warrior no less than double Darius's size and covered in dark, thick armor that from inspection seemed almost impervious, and still the fallen king clenched his axe, smoldering red and shaped like a wolf's head. Darius attempted to hide his amazement from himself and watched the axe sternly, slowly reaching for it before it exploded in a bloody cloud of smoke the second he touched it, throwing him all the way to the bottom of the stairs and back first into the ground, knocking the wind, and almost the consciousness, out of him. As he rose from the ground with his aching muscles, he saw the horror before him: a bloodthirsty wolf so large that its maw alone could devour Darius whole, its fur of a menacing violet-red hue and its growl reverberating off the walls of the room with the intent to kill in its fiery eyes. It leaped into the air and honed onto the injured general, Darius considered his options and with all the might he could muster held his axe towards the beast, and as it connected it knocked him into a wall but left a massive, bleeding gash on the wolf's snout, recoiling it backwards, not nearly enough to kill it but allowed for a few precious seconds of composure. As Darius stood on his feet once more, he took charge towards the visibly angered wolf, he leaped into its side, dodging what would've been a lethal bite and slashed at its leg, the wolf's titanic claws however, reacted by cutting his steel shoulder pad in half, leaving a large flesh wound coursing through his arm. He took off the plate and was left to fight the beast bare-chested, it felt hopeless, it had claws that cut through steel and speed defiant of its gigantic size, but Darius persisted, sweat on his brow and adrenaline pushing him to his bodily limits. He charged once more with a roar, almost mindlessly, but as the beast mirrored him and launched itself forward, Darius feinted his attack and dropped below the creature, embedding his axe into its underside. The wolf dropped with a weeping howl and the general stood up almost immediately and in opportunistic fashion began landing punch after punch onto the wolf's snout. The battering continued, but the hound finally took action and with lighting fast speed opened its bleeding maw to devour its aggressor, Darius held the maw open with all his strength, but it was waning. Both fighters stared at each other viciously as they stood in this standstill, the wolf's teeth slowly piercing Darius's arms, both their wounds seeping blood into the cracks of the chamber floor. Darius was supposed to give out, his muscles were torn and his body wounded, but he wouldn't move. The wolf pushed forward with everything it could but no matter the damage he sustained, the general would not fall. Five minutes passed. Ten. Both continued to stare down at each other, muscles aching and waiting for the other to give out, but neither of them would on account that the slightest movement could mean death. Eventually, the brute feinted backward and away, and to Darius's surprise, bowed its head before him, with droplets of blood still falling to the ground, as if it was almost oblivious to all the wounds it has sustained, or the axe still stuck in its underside. With confusion, and then caution, Darius extended his hand onto its head, and almost instantly, the wolf dispersed into the same blood red smoke. The vapor entered Darius through his eyes and mouth, he felt immeasurable agony, trivializing the pain he had just sustained in the fight, his eyes shone white hot as his body was about to burst but as soon as he felt his end approached, everything went black. Upon waking up, Darius saw before him the very same wolf, docile and waiting in anticipation for his rise. Not long after it was clear what had happened. He was clad in the very same armor worn by the dead God-king, he held the wolf-shaped axe, and everything was sizeably smaller, even the wolf which was a behemoth just minutes before. He could feel the power now running through him, his strength felt endless and uncontested, and the wolf, now more loyal to him than any soldier could be. The Hand of Noxus had become what he had hoped to destroy, he had become a God-king. He walked up the stairs to the throne, each thud echoing across the room, raised the axe into the air, and cut the gold and ivory throne, as well as the body lying on it, clean in half. "No more rulers, No more gods." He said under his breath, followed by a booming howl from his newfound ally. A howl so loud and sharp that the entirety of Runeterra was witness to it. Especially, Garen who for the first time in what felt like an eternity, felt a tinge of fear in his heart.
Very thrilling. Woh, great story! https://media.giphy.com/media/mGptc3Ihyg048/giphy.gif Thank you very much for submitting. :)
EquyNoxius (EUNE)
: Hello, what is meant by approximately 1000 words? What word count would be considered as too much to be eligible for the contest?
OwO, Sorry!! I totally not see this comment. I hope there was no problem then writing your story. Thanks again so much for submitting your story! We didn't set a limit, so if there are more than 1000 words, no problem at all. :) {{sticker:vlad-salute}}
: > [{quoted}](name=Cactusgrill,realm=EUW,application-id=yTagKVTg,discussion-id=WNNQ0wZg,comment-id=000e000000000000,timestamp=2018-07-16T04:48:10.779+0000) > > I for sure gonna give you a good &quot;WOW!&quot;. Amazing and epic story! > > https://secure.static.tumblr.com/bfc950011d3abfdce9ef5008adfe3201/7243fwv/XfJno0hjq/tumblr_static_tumblr_static_3oxru2v86tmo84w4ocwsswcck_640.gif > > Great job and thank you very much for submitting. :) I am so happy you liked it even with my SPAG errors, after the contest is over i think about creating another thread with the other chapters of my story would be happy if you read them.{{sticker:sg-kiko}}
Sure! I would like to hear other chapters of your story. Looking forward to it. :) Let me know somehow, when you released it! https://i.warosu.org/data/jp/img/0165/29/1486792138418.gif
Marissa (EUW)
: **The God-King** Paragraphs from the journal of one of Garens men; describing events passed: …………………………………. >_It has been rough on all of us. He, though so far above our ranks, was a friend to all of us. Not just us, the troops close to the prince, are mourning. All of Demacia mourns over what the Noxians have done – not just to them, to us. In times like this the men look to each other, seeking comfort in the knowledge all suffer the same loss as well as looking for the courage to move forward. We have Garen. Though he lost himself more than the most of us and he mourned just like us, he has something we need desperately in times like his. He makes us feel worthy, proud – determined. Us Demacians have a bond no defeat will ever be able to break, it’s what we should hold on to It’s what it means to be Demacian – to never truly be alone. _ ……………………………………. >_As Garen volunteered to hunt the Noxians that killed Jarvan the 4th, we did too. It will be us that end them. One of the Vanguards scouts found them, all that was left for us was to destroy them. Destroy we did._ >_There’s men, even some of the veteran knights and highest ranks, that have heard of us now. Interested in the very men we walk with. They’re eager to learn how our troop came to be, how it comes our courage and strength is unparalleled – unlike any they’ve seen before. The people, they whisper the early stories of our victories. Our small crew, the men in it, we’re mostly an ideal – there to show people what it means to be Demacian. There to make them feel safe, loved and protected. Ready to be one, to fight as one – to fight not just for our country, but for our people._ ………………………………. >_Sometimes it’s as if the Noxian hordes never learn, as if they don’t even care what has happened to their comrades. On and on they go, war before anything. Their hunger to extend their lands, to conquer, rule and destroy seems everlasting – as if there’s nothing else to live for, nothing more than war. The king, only after a Noxian spy managed to penetrate into the most well protected quarters in an assassination attempt that almost succeeded, finally seems to realize we can no longer take the defensive position and agreed upon war. With most of our most valued war heroes needed at home, at the side of our king – watching over him to ensure nothing stands in the away of his survival; a lot of the men are feeling down and lost. In times like this one needs the most pure hearted, the one man that’s well-respected and known for his courage and strength on the battlefield whilst also having the background and schooling to take lead… and so Garen did. Under his command we’ll once again bring an end to the Noxians, their petty war._ ………………………… >_A dozen of small victories as we get deeper and deeper into Noxian territory. Where some of us have crumbled, have doubted – he never did. He’s he first to run into battle, the one up front – taking the first hits. He’s the one whose armor shines bright, whose spirit brings us courage and who makes us feel united no matter what. With him at our sides, no man will be fully lost. Their memory lives on with us, makes us stronger and more determined than ever before. In this world, filled with evil, there’s no one I trust like I trust him. If he says it won’t be long before we’ll reach Darius’ camps, it won’t be long. If he says we’ll win, we’ll be victorious. Nothing can stop him, so nothing can stop us. He’s there, will always be there, looking over us, protecting us… anything to ensure the freedom and safety of the Demacian people._ ………………………….. >_He is the Vanquisher, the Victorious – the Righteous and Perseverant. Soon he’ll be the Maker of Peace. More than all that, he’s so conscientious, so virtuous and headstrong… so strong and courageous, so noble… he must be divine. And still, still He’s here with us, fighting for us. We devoted our lives to Him, bow to Him – acknowledge Him and everything He is; our Protector. The final battle is coming and with Him we can’t stand anything other than victorious. Together we stand strong and together with Him we stand unbeaten, impenetrable… near invincible. Here, camped near some abandoned Noxian farms with the encampment of Darius in the distant horizon, we prepare the end. Here, with my brothers and sisters, I’ll fight – give my life if I must. _ > > >_For Demacia!_ ....................................... The small journal lies wide open on the muddy ground, most of it’s pages stained with a combination of blood, sweat and mud. Whole weeks unreadable, the memories they hold never to be remembered again. One of the hundreds of lives that were lost, that will be commemorated by generations and generations to follow. A necessary evil that had to be overcome in order to stand victor, to stand conqueror. The battle of life and dead, the war of clashing ideals and beliefs… it ended, it’s over. Never to be started again – just remembered by both opposites as either the darkest or lightest day in history. Generations upon generations live on to tell the stories, share their ideals and love for their God-King: " _Our God-king standing on a bit higher ground, overlooking the army that stormed towards Him. His own men, mostly silent, patiently waiting for His signal. The last test, the fight to end oppression and bloodshed. A fight for ideals, for life. He glared over the enemy lines, searching for his opponent – his goal. Only one God-king could survive, the only way to end this everlasting war. As he swung his mighty blade high above his head, he rushed towards his archenemy. The last battle of the Judge versus the Executioner had begun. The battle of ideals; of vision, might and guile versus strength, courage and unity had started. Noxus quaked under the first blow of their weapons, the sound of metal on metal was heard all the way in Demacia. Strength faced vision, courage met might and unity discovered guile…_ _… and the last is where things didn’t play out. As the enemy was bleeding, crippled by a fierce full strike, our king grinned. Swinging his mighty axe over his shoulders, he looked at the once so mighty Garen – who knew what was to come. Slowly the Demacians realized what had happened to their god, their leader. Filled with terror they stared, nailed to the ground. The loss, the beginning horror and despair as Darius executed their hero… without a man to unite them, they were lost – alone. They were defeated. Their courage and strength torn away. Alone and free of will – able to go and do however they please._ _For Noxus!_ "
Very creative done with the journal parts! GJ! https://media.giphy.com/media/jBzO4OBN8oIms/giphy.gif Thanks for the effort and the participation!
: https://boards.euw.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fan-fiction/vgxUPBTU-fanfiction-contest-vs-event-2018-for-the-hand-of-noxus-a-promise-to-a-friend Aggression, discipline, relentlessness - That’s how the warrior Darius earned tremendous respect in Noxus. With a sinister and strict stare, his mighty and terrifying Battleaxe firm in hand, he glanced out of the stone round arch window. A self-confident grin flickered across his scarred face. He had drastic changes in mind for Noxus’ future, pridefully dead set upon them being successful. He looked over his shoulder as he heard a faint, hoarse laugh. Full of enthusiasm, Draven swung his axes, threw a questioning glance at Darius. “It’s time, isn’t it, brother?” A short, ominous silence followed that question, Darius just gazed into the Distance. He turned around slowly and looked sternly into his brothers crazy eyes, while he stroke the ragged blade of his mighty axe with his bare hand “It is time already,....brother.” 5 years ago Blood pulsed like a dreadful torrent of life out of the dying body of Quilletta in Darius’ arms. The light in her eyes, as golden as the first sunrays of dawn, is quickly fading and the dusk of death set in. Quilletta was gone. Pain, worse than anything Darius had ever endured on the field of battle, set in, gripped his heart and tore at his very soul. She was a traitor to Noxus, yet noxian to the bone. They disagreed on many subjects, yet had the same principles. They separated long before, yet she was the woman he still loved and always would. Noxus gave him strength, discipline, pride. It gave him Quilletta, and now took it from him. But that wasn’t the truth, was it? Not Noxus tore Quill so violently out of Darius’ life, but the shadowy powers within the empire that defile the principles Noxus was founded on and grounded in. Perverted them in their grip for power, not strength. A difference Darius now too late realized when the body of his beloved cools in his embrace. “Quilletta, tell me; what have we been fighting for?” She knew, but she couldn’t answer anymore. She knew long before Darius and that drove her into rebellion against the reigning powers of the empire. That knowledge was her demise. His brother Draven stood next to him, one hand on his older brother’s shoulder. There was nothing he could do for him at the moment. There was no city to pillage, no foe to slay. Only the grief to fight and to stand by the side of his brother. “We will bury her” Darius said, silent but with calm and steady voice that did not allow for any disobedience; it was an order. “She will receive a soldier’s funeral as she would have wanted it. No extravagance. She will be buried in sight of the sea and sky.” With one hand, he tore the cape off his back, wrapped her body carefully in it and marched on with Quilletta on his arms. No words, no commands, just determination. Draven and the warhost followed silently. There was not a single utter of murmur or disobedience while the soldiers turned their back on the city which soon bore the banner of Noxus on the highest tower while the fleet sailed in… After a while, Darius stopped on the edge of a seaside cliff. His men rushed forward to dig a grave with their battleaxes, as they would have for a fallen comrade. Soon, the pit was dug and Darius lay down Quilletta’s body on the earth. Not one took his helmet off, no one said a word. There was no need for it. This was a soldier’s funeral, nameless, without grace, without luxury. It was a necessity of war and wasting words on it would mean there weren’t any more words left as there are too many funerals to hold. Darius’ men threw the earth back in the grave and topped it with a bed of rough stones; Noxian granite. There was no stone more difficult to shape. Masons said the stone itself fights against the tools in defiance and display of strength. When it was done, Darius stepped to the grave and kneeled down. “Decius was our son, wasn’t he? You never told me, but deep within, I knew. You knew about Noxus, you knew how rotten it was. I swear by your death and by the sacrifice of our son Decius, I will burn the rot ouf of Noxus and bring it back onto it’s old path. I swear that I will lead Noxus to strength again.” These words were calmly spoken, yet thundered across the cliffs and sea and sky like a quake in the fabric of reality. A terrible oath, spoken on the doorstep of death, bound by blood, forged to avenge betrayal… Today Darius’ warhost entered Noxus in marching order through the streets towards the Immortal Bastion. Citizens welcomed the successful returning campaigners in great parade and were out on the streets, celebrating, but Darius could not take part in their glee. He had darker things on his mind. The Hand of Noxus entered the throne room of the Bastion alone, his eyes on the shattered throne. Not a second later that Darius stood still, Jericho Swain came in through a side door leading to a command room. Years ago, Darius decided that Swain had the vision of Noxus that would lead the empire to strength. Nowadays, that vision appears blurred, cloudy. “I have heard of your success in stopping the rebellion, Hand of Noxus. The reinforcement fleet wasn’t needed in taking the city.” “An assassin dispatched of the leader of the rebellion, Grand General, and set the flag of Noxus over the city. The rebells then routed and fled into the mountains.” “And you found them and executed every last one of them, yes. This was a minor rebellion, Hand of Noxus. Why did you take command of it personally?” There was no use in lying to Jericho Swain. He knows. “There was a personal matter I needed to attend to.” “So I heard.” “What does Noxus stand for, Grand General?” Swain’s face, usually devoid of any notion what he might think at any moment, showed just a fraction of uncertainty. This was something he did not see. “Strength through unity, unity through strength. The unity of all strength is the grand vision for Noxus, and guile is used where strength fails. But you know that, Darius. What is this about?” Quicker than Swain could react, blinded by what he did not see come, Darius thrusted his hand forward and took an iron grip around Swain’s neck, crushing the throat of the Grand General. With a loud crack, Darius immediately broke the neck of Swain in the blink of an eye. “A friend and a promise.” Darius’ was strangely calm in the face of his own betrayal. Because it wasn’t a betrayal after all. He served Noxus, the ideals of Noxus and fulfilled an oath to do what is right. A strange mist emits from Swain’s body. Darius knew of the rumors around Swain’s newfound vitality and restored arm. It seeps into Darius’ mouth and nose and ears and eyes. He tried to fight it but he couldn’t stop the demon from entering him, looking for a new host. But he would not submit. Darius fought with the demon over the control over this flesh and over his very soul. He screamed louder than anything since the days the dark revenant Mordekaiser reveled in the slaughter of entire armies crushing against his unholy fortress. Eventually, he contained the demon inside him, made a bargain. The demon had lend Swain his strength and took shape in a form characteristic of Swain himself, the raven. For Darius, the power of the demon materialized as a wolf; strong, untamed and dominating everything and everyone who was weaker. He did not look for this power, but it would serve him well for his plans. Urgot knew what Noxus had become and was banished, betrayed. Quilletta knew and was murdered. Now Darius knows and with this knowledge and his new powers, he will reshape Noxus in his ideals, in Noxus’ true ideas of strength and later the entire world. Edit: These are about ~1200 words, and I could have probably written around the same more to further out the details, but I guess for the entry this is the limit. Unless ofc you would be that gracious to allow me to write some more.
Even if you couldn't put in all the details you wanted, you delivered a great story! Thanks again, for being part of the contest! https://fujinsei.files.wordpress.com/2016/03/cat-dancing-anime-gif.gif?w=400&h=225
: > [{quoted}](name=KON x,realm=EUW,application-id=yTagKVTg,discussion-id=WNNQ0wZg,comment-id=000e0000,timestamp=2018-07-10T19:31:16.573+0000) > > wow > {{champion:17}} is that a good "wow" or a bad one, i feel like its a bad wow?
I for sure gonna give you a good "WOW!". Amazing and epic story! https://secure.static.tumblr.com/bfc950011d3abfdce9ef5008adfe3201/7243fwv/XfJno0hjq/tumblr_static_tumblr_static_3oxru2v86tmo84w4ocwsswcck_640.gif Great job and thank you very much for submitting. :)
Kitsune San (EUNE)
: Hey everyone, Decided that I as well might take a shot at this, here's everything starting with the introduction: **** **GOD KING DARIUS** Aggression, discipline, relentlessness - That’s how the warrior Darius earned tremendous respect in Noxus. With a sinister and strict stare, his mighty and terrifying Battleaxe firm in hand, he glanced out of the stone round arch window. A self-confident grin flickered across his scarred face. He had drastic changes in mind for Noxus’ future, pridefully dead set upon them being successful. He looked over his shoulder as he heard a faint, hoarse laugh. Full of enthusiasm, Draven swung his axes, threw a questioning glance at Darius. “It’s time, isn’t it, brother?” A short, ominous silence followed that question, Darius just gazed into the Distance. He turned around slowly and looked sternly into his brothers crazy eyes, while he stroke the ragged blade of his mighty axe with his bare hand - “It is time already,....brother.” Darius walked up to the Glorious Executioner, and they went out of the Hands of Noxus quarters. “You know”, Draven began, “I’ve been waiting for this. All this time, of mundane executions, and no real action. This, this is something I wanted for a looong time.” He said, his voice betraying his eagerness. “Pfeh. If you haven't decided to waste your time killing off that pathetic, worthless scum that got imprisoned, and joined the Trifarian Legion under my command, you'd serve your country a lot more.” Darius shot back. At this point, they were marching through the busy streets of Noxus Prime, towards the Legion Garrisons. Walking through the particularly rich district, they could see a lot of elegant and classy buildings of the wealthy. Passing near the mansion gates of one prestigious family, Darius noticed a few crows looking at him menacingly. “Go to the garrison and see that everything is ready. I will be there shortly.” Not being the one to question his older brother, Draven simply offered a curt nod and went straight ahead, Darius however, turned right, into the side alley. “Something must have happened, in order for you to set up such an attempt to contact me at this time, Evaine.” Darius intoned, in his voice respect mixed with disdain. He respected the power of the Black Rose and the fact that they too wanted to lead Noxus to greater heights, but at the same time he despised the shadowy tactics. He much more preferred a brutal old fashioned show of strength. Darius observed as murder of crows formed a silhouette resembling a woman, which spoke “There isn't much time Darius. Meet me at the Grand Palace and you will see why we took such a drastic measure.” After those words, crows dispersed into the sky and Darius simply marched towards his new destination. **** He met with the mysterious Matron and seen what she meant. She showed him the projection of the grand city-state of Taya and it turned out to be just like Varju fortress, but bigger and thus a lot stronger. Noxian army fought decades upon decades to conquer the prideful tribe, and only managed to do so because of his skill and experience. This time, it would not be enough. Noxus could not afford another stalemate, not after the shameful Freljord campaign that swallowed so many good warriors. He needed to be stronger than ever before, stronger than any other man, any other foe. In order to conquer the Tayals, he needed to become… A God. ”There is a way for you to gain more power.“ The matron began, seeing through the warriors thoughts. ”In the south of Delverhold, there is an abandoned mine. Folk will tell you stories about the accidents and curse of the dead, but pay them no mind. Go inside, and explore with the help of this.” She gave him a gem coated in weird metallic substance that was cold to the touch. ”When the gem burns, it means you are close. Go, and make Noxus bloom.” **** He entered the long forgotten mine and felt that the gem was heating up. He continued to slowly travel the mine, pondering how long would it take him to get back to the Legion. He made sure to instruct Draven to march towards the Tayan border and past it anyways. He was certain that the Legion could at least hold their position. There was no place for weaklings in the ranks, they would prevail until his appearance. Turning into a blind corner a few things happened simultaneously. The gem burned to the point of harming his hand, and he was forced to drop it near the wall. The wall murmured and splitted apart, and the gem broke into pieces. Darius entered the newly created cave and looked around. There was nothing else than a pedestal with a red crystal on it. As he approached the monument he felt a surge of power. From the crystal a ghostly wolf appeared, walls trembled as he roared. “**Who dares to interrupt my sleep!**” The creature hollowed. “I am the Hand of Noxus. I challenge you for the power within.” With these words Darius took hold of his mighty axe and took a battle stance. “**I do not need to fight to determine if you're worthy. NOW LOOK INTO MY EYES, MORTAL!**” With that trembling shout, the ghost of the sentient being invaded the mind of the Noxian warrior, seeing through his past. After what seemed a painful eternity of reliving the harshness of the Basilich streets, the incident of Dalamor Plain, the bittersweet glory received from Boram, and the recent Trifarian ruling flashing through his mind, the agonizing pain stopped, and Darius gasped. He realized that he had fallen to his knees during the trial and quickly got back up, ready to defend himself against the mysterious being. “**Be at ease, mortal. You've been through a lot during your life. You value strength above all, and wish to prove your loyalty to the country that made you be. Your wish shall be granted. Use my power, and lead your people to glory.**” With these words, the being drifted away into the crystal. Darius evened his breath, jogged closer, jumped high into the ground and with a loud cry smashed his battleaxe into the crystal. The energy sweeped outside, enveloped the axe, his hand, and then the rest of his body. With a scream, he felt that he was changing. His hair became snowy white, his face hardened even more. The spiky armor was gone, replaced by more regaly one, with wolf's head looking menacingly from his shoulder. His axe became saturated with the crystals power, turning almost entirely red. With all of this, his new strength became even more visible, due to the black energy oozing out of him. He smiled awfully at the feel of his nearly limitless force. He now knew that nothing could stop him from leading Noxian army to victory. **** The battle of Taya lasted merely a few days. When everyone believed that the city will stand tall, it all changed with unimaginable power that could be sourced approaching. Then he came. The Conqueror advanced past the Noxian army that bowed to him, and singlehandely defeated more than half of the Tayan forces. With no choice left, they surrendered. With this came the sight nobody present could dream to forget - the warrior raised his axe into the sky, smiled with his scarred lips and said "**This battle and land, is only the beginning**". Word count: 1093 without the intro.
Kitsu! Amazing job! Thank you so much for participating. I appreciate it a lot! http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8MdeelvgDW0/U8eX_z4OEmI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/IGh5WOR68kI/s1600/5.gif
BloopyLad (EUW)
: https://boards.euw.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fan-fiction/aopH5cOc-the-god-kings-betrayal Hope you enjoy :D
I enjoyed it a lot! https://i0.wp.com/www.thebuttonsmashers.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/clapp.gif?resize=500%2C280 I left a comment on your post. :)
: One typical day in Noxus, the miners found a new ancient cave. They were digging a lot of time and they found of lot of rooms with treasures when they reached a very solid wall and it took almost 2 days to crush the wall. Then they found a locked chest, but in one of the previous room they found a key, they understood the key is for the chest.On the chest was written " Only the chosen can use it" .In the chest they found an ancient powerful axe. The miners understood the chosen is Darius because the axe was similar to Darius axe. When Darius grabbed the axe with his hands it started to burn and a giant red wolf appeared. They started plan how to attack Demacia. They decided to don't attack so fast because sure someone will tell to them for their new weapon and Demacia will reinforce their army. Darius said " We will wait until they stop thinking that's about our new weapon is true." One warrior from Noxus actually was Demacian "double agent" and during the next night he went to Demacia And told to them the real plan for attack. They consulted with the king's wise men, after few hours they said to the King family " There is always balance, so if there is ancient powerful weapon for killing, there is a ancient powerful shield or weapon for defending.". But they didn't know where is it. They gathered all Demacian explorers to ask them if they know any ancient cave or something. One of them answered " Before year i found a high hill trapped all over him except on the top where there was only one tree with a low branch, and around the tree were swords, some old and rusty, others knives and shining, apparently one of them was special. Garen wished to go alone with the explorer who should tell him where are the traps. When they reached the hill the explorer told him where is safe, when he reached the top he was watching all the swords when he stumbled in a stone and start falling. He grabbed the branch for support, but he broke the branch and fell down. The branch became a big sword and a big blue lion appeared in front him.They went home to tell them Demacia is ready for war. Before the battle began Garen said to all Demacian warriors " Is there a better way to die,except to die for your homeland?", but Darius said "Is there anything better than destroying the home of your enemy?". This were the last words for someone of them, but who we will see on the battle ground. And what, you will just stay here and read the story or you will join the story?
Really cool! Nice story. Thank you so much for being part of this event and contest! {{sticker:katarina-love}}
jacktjong (EUW)
: **GOD KING DARIUS** Aggression, discipline, relentlessness – That’s how the warrior Darius earned tremendous respect in Noxus. With a sinister and strict stare, his mighty and terrifying Battleaxe firm in hand, he glanced out of the stone round arch window. A self-confident grin flickered across his scarred face. He had drastic changes in mind for Noxus’ future, pridefully dead set upon them being successful. He looked over his shoulder as he heard a faint, hoarse laugh. Full of enthusiasm, Draven swung his axes, threw a questioning glance at Darius. “It’s time, isn’t it, brother?” A short, ominous silence followed that question, Darius just gazed into the Distance. He turned around slowly and looked sternly into his brothers crazy eyes, while he stroke the ragged blade of his mighty axe with his bare hand – “It is time already,….brother.” “I don’t understand. Why you have to do this? We’re already the most feared nation in all of Runeterra. Why do you feel the need to find it?” Draven’s face showed both annoyance and concern. “Because, brother, it does not matter what status we have when we’re facing a god. The only thing that matters is that we have enough power to conquer everything when we invade. A god by our own side is the minimum we need to be succesful.” “Well, in that case… Go. But don’t die. You’re one of the best generals we’ve got, and you’re my brother. Right now, we’re playing all or nothing.” After the exchange, Darius went on his way. The only way to win from the Demacians was with the power of pure chaos on Noxus’ side. And everyone in Runeterra knows where to find a god; on Mount Targon. A trecherous place, where the cold and rough landscapes take lives, and where only the strongest warriors return from. As Darius treaded over the green lands, he saw the Institute of War in the distance, and in front of him Mount Targon looked as colossal as ever. A giant piece of rock, pointy peaks and loosened stone. A grand sight to behold. There was something about Mount Targon that had always made it obvious to be some sort of plateau for the gods, but Darius knew well that a god of chaos would not be high up. A god of chaos would be down deep, in the heart of the forests surrounding the mountain’s base. https://imgur.com/a/248FtXn By entering the forest, Darius sealed his fate. Either he came out a god, or he’d die a failure. The forest was dark, with tall trees and thick bushes making the quest difficult. But as Darius went deeper into the woods, the plantlife thinned out and temperatures dropped, untill there was only a snowy, barren land left. This shift in the envoirement could only be caused by a god. Done to create an optimal hunting ground for him and his pack. Darius had entered these grounds, and knew there were hundreds of eyes staring at him. Waiting for him to let his guard down. But when Darius found himself in such situations, a simple chant always kept predators away. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rGx9_wABzlA Without any predators blocking his way, Darius approached the den of the god. Úlfur, chaos incarnate, was ready for his approach. There was no intent to back off from either Darius or Úlfur, but Úlfur had instincts. Instincts that told it that Darius was dangerous. The fact that Darius was not faced by the god’s howls only made these instincts stronger. Darius, on the other hand, had supressed these instincts long ago. No animal would scare him, not even a little. He knew they were just machines, operating on those very instincts that Darius had overcome. He was stronger than any animal. “Úlfur, beastly wolf, god of chaos! I have come for you! Obey me, or be slaughtered!” The booming voice scared the god. It did not know what to do. The only thing its instincts allowed it to do, was charge. So it charged. Thrashing and snarling, it approached Darius as fast as it could, to hopefully catch Darius off-guard. But Darius was not faced. Darius stood his ground as the beast approached, and once it got close, Darius raised his battleaxe, deflecting a maul from the beast. A small piece of the battleaxe broke off. As the beast had now lost its balance, Darius pushed on the gut of the beast, throwing it on its side. With one slice of his axe, Darius cut its chest open. The god yelped in pain, while Darius gave it a kick in its gut. “You obey ME, you hear?!” Blood was drizzling from the cut. The god gave in to Darius, and with that, the wound faded, and the blood turned to vapor tob e absorbed by the blade and armor of Darius. Darius’ armor turning dark, changing into the armor of a god. His hair turning white, and his axe turning bright red. As the last details settled in, Darius’s mind also began to change. The previous ambitions of conquering land for Noxus left him, and were replaced by the need to spread chaos. In the end, Darius came out of the forest a god. And yet, he’d died in the forest as well. All that was standing in the open grass fields was a monster. Chaos’ Incarnate. https://imgur.com/a/AYquXfL _If you're reading this, either you skipped the story or you read the whole thing. If you did the latter, thanks for reading :D I hope you enjoyed it._ _I wanted to give some quick insight into some small references I made in the story that may or may not have seemed a bit spontanious. I put them there because I did a lot of researching to make the story fit into the world of Runeterra as accurately as possible, and really wanted to put that research to use. For instance, the part where a small bit of Darius' axe chipped off. There actually is no dent in the base model of Darius, but in the God King model there is. And also, Darius walked over green fields towards Mt. Targon, and sees the Institute of War in the distance, and the Institute of War would be visible from where Darius would walk._ _And let's not forget the pictures and videos. The first pic comes from A New Dawn, the video comes from the League Of Legends Workshop (which, btw, I would love to see being revived. I was amazed by the four videos and was sad that none showed up afterwards), and the last pic came from the Where Power Lies event trailer._ _Again, thanks to everyone who read through the story, and good luck to the other competitors _{{sticker:poppy-wink}}
Very thoughtful and detailed. I also loved that you added the videos and pictures. Creative mind! {{sticker:leblanc-funny}} I appreciate your participation a lot!
: Hello everyone! The rules said to write lore for how Garen or Darius came to power. So now gather round and read the story of Garen’s rise to power *GOD KING GAREN* Complete silence, but there was unease. Struck with almost unbearable pain Garen, the demacian warrior, stood in the middle of the Noxian camp fighting the guilt welling up within his strong heart. It wasn’t the sun dazzling him. It was the golden, blood covered pin furnished with the Demacian eagle. Hesitating, with a cold-stone look Garen kneeled down slowly to the enormous and messy pool of blood. For him, it was indeed tough to face and particularly accept the fact, that Jarvan now watches in internal peace over Demacia. Calmly closing his hand convulsively around the grisly pin, while his soldiers were speechless grieving gathered around closely at the murder scene. Even he was fighting the oppressive guilt, the Demacian Warrior slowly reared up in his mighty armor, pinning his sword into the dry ground and spoke with a reticent but strong voice: “A Demacian will never stand alone.” Garen hefted the sword out of the ground, the pin still clutched in his other hand, a reminder of his irrevocable failure. “We will search the woods around here,” Garen spoke in the same, emotionless tone he had before, not truly believing they would find the prince,” We shall not let him stand alone, if he still lives.” His words were not a request, but a command. As Garen moved to his large, brown horse his armour felt much heavier than usual. He mounted. His men followed suit, all mounting their steeds, all wearing the same grief-ridden faces that bespoke what they all knew, their noble prince was dead, murdered by the Noxians, and this search was only happening because there wasn’t a body, just armour. Yet, on they went, carefully searching the forest for a dead prince. When the futile search was over, the tiny flicker of hope that had lingered in Garen was extinguished, his overwhelming guilt was now all he felt. As Garen and his troops rode towards to Demacia, he was mostly silent and sullen, only speaking to give necessary orders. The guilt now overwhelmed him, suppressing every other emotion. The impact as his horse’s hooves, the weight of his armour, the colour of the flowers growing at the side of the rode, anything that might distract him from the unbearable guilt. How could his heart be in so much pain, and he not be dead? Garen couldn’t bear to look at the citizens of Demacia as he rode through the town, no, that would make his hellish guilt even worse. Word had spread faster than they had rode, so, surely, everyone would hold him just as accountable as he held himself. It wasn’t hard to accomplish this, as the funeral was scheduled to happen as soon as Garen and his men were ready. He dreaded it. Garen stood in the family and close friends section of the funeral. It was all he could do to keep from buckling under the weight of the guilt, that at this point felt as if he was under a gigantic pile of rocks and was slowly being crushed. The hardest part of all was meeting the gaze of King Jarvan the third and confessing his guilt to him. Garen took up residence with his fellows in the barracks the next day, obsessing over the feeling of loss he felt for his prince, charge and, of course, friend, Jarvan IV. He decided that it couldn’t just be him that felt this, and that the families of the lost soldiers must feel the exact same way, minus the mountain of guilt of course, that burden was solely his. He gave every penny of his wages to the families of the dead, sparring nothing for himself. One day, after training, he was summoned by the king himself. His stomach was full of dread as he made his way to the king’s audience room. The king must have decided on a punishment for Garen letting his son and heir die. No matter what anyone else said Garen was sure that he was responsible. “Garen,” the king said, his voice as serious as the rising tide of dread in Garen’s stomach,” I’ve had reports of what you have been doing with your wages...” a pause, “ And I am impresses with your selflessness and the importance of Demacian values to you.” The tide of dread in Garen was beginning to recede. “However,” another pause,” I have also had reports that you still hold yourself responsible for my son’s death. You are not. There was nothing you could have done to save him. I _command_ you to stop holding yourself responsible. I know that will be hard for you so I have decided to give you a week off from your training.” Garen was immeasurably relieved. The mountain of guilt over the prince’s untimely departure was now just one rock, which could be eroded by the week off. He was extremely thankful to the kind king. “Thank you, sir, I think the week off you have so kindly gifted me will south my conscience a great deal.” Garen said, not faking the sincerity in his voice at all. “Good. Go off to your break then, soldier. Remember to be back and ready to train in seven days time.” Jarvan was a bit less serious as he spoke those words. “No, sir, I won’t.” “I’ll take that as a promise. Dismissed.” Garen went straight to the soldier’s mess for his evening meal of a small portion roast beef and assorted greens with water and bread. After that, he went to his bed in the barracks and slept. He loved his bed now. The coarseness of the linens was just right, the plumpness of the pillow felt softer than ever. His bed was perfect now. It hadn’t changed. The crushing guilt had stopped him from enjoying anything. The next morning he went on a ride, alone, into the forest to enjoy the sensations. He planned to stay there for three days, hunting his own food, and then return. It was a pleasant day, the canopy of the lush forest keeping out the heat of the midday sun. The air was fresh and crisp and smelled of the forest. Birds called to each other and the ground was rich in undergrowth. It was ideal, to Garen at least. Then he saw the blue light in the heart of the forest. Bearing a petricite sword, Garen went to investigate. What he found changed his life forever. The blue light was emanating from a large, etherial lion almost as tall as Garen himself. It spoke. “Garen,” it’s voice was loud and noble,” I offer you a chance to become unstoppable, to become a God-King. You would be able to reform Demacia, so that each and every citizen will do everything with Demacian values at heart. Crime would be obliterated, poverty too. All would be equal. None would die like Jarvan.” There it was. The nail in the coffin. Garen wanted to do that. It would be a utopia. “What do I have to do?” He asked. “Best me in combat.” The lion replied gravely. It was easy. His military training and the petricite of his blade made the threat of a magical lion next to nothing. Garen marched into Demacia, the lion at his side. As soon as they set a single foot inside the gates a blue wave rolled across the whole city, transforming everything it passed into what the perfect Demacian version was. Including people. Garen’s footsteps echoed through the streets as he strode ever closer to the throne. When he finally arrived Jarvan III was nowhere to be found and the throne was resized to fit Garen’s enlarged body. His plated armour, eminating blue light, was the same colour as the throne that he now sits on, his only competitor Darius and his red wolf. That’s it everybody! I hope there was enough and that it was good enough for you! Sorry if you find any mistakes. Good luck to the other contestants. *_Yours Sincerely_* _Crablobster10_ {{sticker:vlad-salute}}
My Demacian Heart..it melts! Well done! I appreciate your story. Thanks for being part of the contest! {{sticker:garen-swing}}
lalalagirl (EUNE)
: Hello the words are 1110 with the introduction! hope you like it :3 Complete silence, but there was unease. Struck with almost unbearable pain Garen, the demacian warrior, stood in the middle of the Noxian camp fighting the guilt welling up within his strong heart. It wasn’t the sun dazzling him. It was the golden, blood covered pin furnished with the Demacian eagle. Hesitating, with a cold-stone look Garen kneeled down slowly to the enormous and messy pool of blood. For him, it was indeed tough to face and particularly accept the fact, that Jarvan now watches in internal peace over Demacia. Calmly closing his hand convulsively around the grisly pin, while his soldiers were speechless grieving gathered around closely at the murder scene. Even he was fighting the oppressive guilt, the Demacian Warrior slowly reared up in his mighty armor, pinning his sword into the dry ground and spoke with a reticent but strong voice: “A Demacian will never stand alone.” Garen couldn’t forget all the voices all the feelings all the faces he heard, felt, and saw some days ago.. His mind was stunned from all this. -TWO WEEKS AGO- When Garen came back he was searching for the prince Jarvan III. He ordered some soldiers to go search too. He was looking and looking. Suddenly he heard someone shouting: The prince! The prince has been shot! There! They start all to run to the direction that he has point but when they went the prince was missing…. Garen said the soldiers to keep looking until they find him. When he return to palace the people of Demacia was asking where is the prince. Garen had to lie and tell them that he is in the palace, but he is been shot and they where trying to save his life. After a week and with no sign of Jarvan, Garen decided that he must call the people and tell them that the prince is dead. Garen gathered the people in the yard of the palace “This is the hardest thing I had to do in my life. I have to tell something that I still can’t accept or believe is true. The prince Jarvan III is dead. We lost the heart of Demacia. We lost a great warrior. We lost a great leader. We lost our friend. I, Garen Crownguard, citizen of Demacia, will never forget Jarvan III, and never stop feeling guilty of the fact that I wasn’t right by his side to protect him. I will give my life to restore the death of Jarvan III with my own life. I will go to fight until my last powers and my life for Jarvan III. I don’t call you to come with me. This is something I have to do.” Some people tried to stop him telling him that he is one of the greatest warriors that Demacia have and Demacia cant lost him too. Some people say to plan a attack and go together but Garen didn’t listen. His sister, Luxanna even though she wasn’t so close with her brother he couldn’t let that happen. She decided to go search for Jarvan right away. She left the city and start wondering in the jungle with her horse. After a while the leg of the horse has been hurt. She tried to find some place safe to stay for a while. As she was searching she find a cave that inside was seeing something like a fire. She went closely and saw a dragon woman thing and a man laying. Then she tried to go a little closer and saw the armor of the prince Jarvan III. She decided to show herself and go inside. “ Hey you ! This is our Prince. If you are the one that hurt our Prince I am going to fight you and take him back!” Lux said as she was a little anxious. “ Haha you are just a little girl. I am not afraid of you. And even if I was I saved his life! I found him with an arrow in his chest and bring him here to try to save him.” The woman said. “Oh ok. Then thank you. But I have to bring him back to the palace because they think he is dead and going to revenge his death to Noxus.” “I don’t think he can move yet girl.” “ I will think of something” “Look I can help you but you must promise me that you will not hurt me or let anybody does.” “Why anybody will want to hurt you?” The woman transform in a dragon. “ Oh ok I can see why you are believing this. Hm ok we have a deal I will protect you and you will care Jarvan.” “No we have to go help Garen.” Jarvan III said with all the power he got. -Back to Garen- At night Garen start his journey. He was determined to go to take revenge for his friend and nothing would stop him. And it was true. He went, and no one could stop him. He was one and they were thousand. After a while he was right out of the palace of Noxus. He shout. “I GAREN CROWNGUARD WILL MAKE NOXUS REGRET WHAT THEY DID”. After this he broke down the door and went in. After this completely silence. The soldiers was watching him and they were freezed. Darius and his smaller brother where sitting. In the door of the palace. Darius looked over his shoulder as he heard a faint, hoarse laugh. Full of enthusiasm, Draven swung his axes, threw a questioning glance at Darius. “It’s time, isn’t it, brother?” A short, ominous silence followed that question, Darius just gazed into the Distance. He turned around slowly and looked sternly into his brothers crazy eyes, while he stroke the ragged blade of his mighty axe with his bare hand - “It is time already,....brother.” After everything were all over, Garen shout: “A Demacian will never stand alone.” As he turn around he saw Jarvan III with her sister and the dragon-woman standing. Garen felt like he was just reborn. When they return to palace Jarvan III made a speech to his people. “ I Jarvan III, have to say a big thank you to all of you for helping me or care for me, and I feel very powerful when I have all of you here by my side. But, I have to say that Garen Crownguard prove that he is capable of earning the title of GOD-KING! And a big thank you to his small sister Luxanna, and Shyvana, because without them I wouldn’t be standing here. Thank you everyone. FOR DEMACIA”
I root for the Crownguard Garen! https://i.redd.it/aa6cm2p19g5y.gif Epic story. I appreciate it, that you participated in the contest. Thank you! :)
Rismosch (EUW)
: https://boards.euw.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fan-fiction/gKWha53i-friends So Stahlvormund showed me his story and wrote about 1200 words. How despicable is that? If you are going to overshoot, do it right. So I wrote glorious 2169 words.
Praise the 2169 words! https://media.giphy.com/media/HjheuybfwDGnu/source.gif
Masantha (EUW)
: I wanted to play too! Apologies to all readers as this was hastily written and has not been edited (SHAME ON ME). Great to read the stories on here so far, hope you like mine too! **For the Might of Demacia** The long lonely road back to Demacia had been silent and grief-laden for Garen’s forces. The sticky pool of blood, the discarded golden armour, the bleak skies that hung heavy like a funeral shroud over the village; all this had permeated the troops with a sense of desolation and hopelessness. None felt the burden greater than Garen. He rode astride his Demacian destrier, the eagle pin he had given Jarvan as a promise decorating his own armour now. It was still blood-stained, a permanent reminder to Garen of his failings and his dereliction of duty. Upon his return to Demacia, things had not got better. The King, Jarvan III, had thanked Garen for his attempted rescue, but the old King’s eyes were heavy with sadness. No father should have to outlive his son. Garen had now given up the benefits of his position, moving into the barracks to live with the Demacian soldiers undergoing training. He worked closely with them, training them, supporting them, building them up, and when they inevitably died in battle he ensured their widows and families received a stipend from his own pay to keep them from starving. Garen was still aware of the eyes of Jarvan III watching him from the distance, still blaming the warrior for the ignominious death of the prince. It was several months before Garen felt he could take no more. Stealing out of the barracks in the quiet afternoon, when the recruits were in arms training and the streets were empty, he made his way to the city gates, unnoticed and alone. At least he thought he was unnoticed. Less than a mile from the great Demacian gates, Garen realised he was being followed. Wearily, knowing it was no use if he’d already been found out, he turned around. His followers were a surprise. His own sister, Lux, and the Demacian scout Quinn with her great eagle companion. Garen frowned slightly. ‘Are you here to bring me back to the city, sister?’ he asked gruffly. He had never fully trusted Lux, suspicious of her strange aura. She smiled at him with a warmness he was not expecting. ‘No, brother,’ she said. ‘Here to help you bring back Jarvan.’ Garen looked from Lux to Quinn, questioningly. Quinn was a Demacian soldier, and owed allegiance to Prince Jarvan, but he did not know why she would feel personally invested. She caught his glance and looked up at Valor, the Demacian eagle perched on her shoulder. ‘I know what it is like to lose someone you love, Garen,’ she reminded him, gently stroking the glossy feathers on Valor’s chest. ‘I would not give up on him if there were the slightest chance he was still alive.’ Garen nodded, mainly to himself, and slowly drew his sword. Quinn gasped slightly but Lux stood firm, an enigmatic smile on her face. Garen pulled off his dark travelling cloak, revealing the polished silver armour beneath, and raised his great broadsword to the sky. ‘I swear by the gods, that I will bring Prince Jarvan home. I make this vow in the name of Demacia!’ As he shouted out the last word like a war cry, the grey clouds overhead slowly parted, a single, dazzling bolt of sunshine illuminating first the sharp point of the sword and then the rest of the weapon and eventually, Garen’s whole body. As he stood, bathed in sunlight, his sword to the sky, a thunderous roar started in the clouds and with a burst of light, a great white lion with glowing blue eyes exploded into existence. With wide eyes Garen watched as the lion stood eye to eye with him, the beast so large his head was higher than Garen’s. As the sun’s ray widened and the clouds dissipated, Garen’s armour slowly changed, gold and blue and silver accents flowering upon it, a silver circlet materialising on his head, a silvery cloak flowing down his back. The transformation complete, the great lion rumbled gently in its chest, and regarded Garen with serious eyes. ‘The God-King has risen….’ Lux breathed in amazement. ‘Called forth only to assist a true warrior in the time of Demacia’s greatest need.’ Garen and the lion turned to look at her and Quinn, but before anything could be said, a loud scream of a dragon echoed in the distance. The gates of Demacia behind them, the God-King, the lion, and Lux and Quinn looked to the sound. ‘A Demacian will never stand alone,’ Garen murmured, his hand reaching to gently brush the Demacian eagle pin that was still attached to his armour. ‘Let us bring home our Prince.’ {{sticker:garen-swing}}
My hastily written stories are for sure not so great and epic like yours. :D Thank you very much for participating. I appreciate it sooo much! {{sticker:sg-kiko}}
Masantha (EUW)
: Also - this music is EPIC and I had it on the whole time I wrote this and oh my goodness I want it to be my soundtrack for life
I had it also on while creating and crafting the post. Had it in loop for days and never got boring, even more epic. {{sticker:zombie-brand-mindblown}}
Masantha (EUW)
: > [{quoted}](name=DarcusTimeCtrl,realm=EUW,application-id=yTagKVTg,discussion-id=WNNQ0wZg,comment-id=0019,timestamp=2018-07-11T18:14:01.626+0000) > > I hate riot so hard, because of this selfish desires and their random banned system, but Masantha that music with this board that was epic move from u i like it well done. Have a nice day. I hope you have a nice day too! I just get so excited about the talent and passion that our awesome community shows in events like this! {{sticker:galio-happy}}
I agree on that. I didn't know how many participants to expect. It made me so happy to see all those thrilling and well done crafted stories. It melts my little cactus heart! {{sticker:zombie-nunu-hearts}}
: I hate riot so hard, because of this selfish desires and their random banned system, but Masantha that music with this board that was epic move from u i like it well done. Have a nice day.
That contest was actually created by me from the Player Support together with Volunteers and Summoners! :D I really appreciate your kind words for our effort we put in this project. More to come for sure! And yup, the soundtrack is more than epic. I already stopped counting, how many times I listened to it. Hehe! I will let our track creator know your compliment. :) Have a nice day too, DarcusTimeCtrl! {{sticker:leblanc-funny}}
: Too long have we sat back, content to defend our borders against the onslaught of his armies. We accepted a stalemate born of weakness. Or rather, _I_ accepted it. For it was not your weakness but mine that rendered us unable to truly challenge Darius. But today, I break these chains that bind me. Today, I become the ruler you deserve.” He opened the box and took out the crown. Kneeling he raised it above his head, and placed it on his head. He was about to get up again, but suddenly the lion moved and put its snout against the jewel at the crown’s front. A pale blue light emanated from it, its enthralling glow finding its way into Garen’s very soul. He could feel it change him, but he did not resist. His emotions drained away, the conflicting feelings replaced by a calm sense of unwavering determination. The memories he had only minutes before seen so clearly in his mind disintegrated into fine dust, pointless hindrances to his purpose. All that was Garen burned in the cold sapphire flame, and from its ash rose a man remade. He had no more need for names, or all the other petty qualms that weighed down the minds of mortals. His entire being was wrought solely to rule over all life. He stood up and opened his mouth to utter the words the soldiers of Demacia would soon chant by the millions as they laid waste to their enemies: “All hail the God-King!” PS: I'm a ware that it is a bit long, but thankfully "approximately" is a pretty vague term, so I hope I can be included in the selection anyways. {{sticker:slayer-jinx-wink}} And if not, I still had a lot of fun writing this, so it's fine either way. GL HF to all the other contestants and a wonderful evening to all of you that have stuck around to read all of this.
That's why we have choosen "approximately" because we didn't want to set a specific word limit. All good! Very impressive story. Gotta refill my Poro-Snax now! Have a wonderful day too and thank you so much for participating. {{sticker:slayer-jinx-catface}}
: God king Darius did not win
God-King Disco Nunu you mean! {{sticker:sg-ahri-1}}
: I almost got triggered by this post
https://i.imgur.com/rTWDmuc.gif Like dis?
Princéssa (EUNE)
: I'm really bad at writing, but Kitsu made me do it literally last-minute. 1174 words without the beginning. Enjoy :P Aggression, discipline, relentlessness - That’s how the warrior Darius earned tremendous respect in Noxus. With a sinister and strict stare, his mighty and terrifying Battleaxe firm in hand, he glanced out of the stone round arch window. A self-confident grin flickered across his scarred face. He had drastic changes in mind for Noxus’ future, pridefully dead set upon them being successful. He looked over his shoulder as he heard a faint, hoarse laugh. Full of enthusiasm, Draven swung his axes, threw a questioning glance at Darius. “It’s time, isn’t it, brother?” A short, ominous silence followed that question, Darius just gazed into the Distance. He turned around slowly and looked sternly into his brothers crazy eyes, while he stroke the ragged blade of his mighty axe with his bare hand - “It is time already,....brother.” The streets were crowded, yet quiet. Everyone seemed to be focused on clearing their minds before the fight starts. As the brothers walked through the small, claustrophobic alleys, their inhabitants stared at them with pride and respect. Draven seemed to be a little nervous, which is very odd. He always liked spotlight, and fame was his main motivation to battle, but he knows that it isn’t only about him now. His army is full of young, brave men whose dreams are making Noxus big. Lives of those who are fighting and staying back home are more important than ever. He has a lot of weight on his shoulders to carry, but he knows he can do it - after all, he’s a noxian. He was **born** to do it. He always was grateful that captain Cyrus noticed his and his brother’s potential. - I know you’re prepared. We’ve been working on this for years. Now it’s the time to show the real strength of Noxus - said Darius, like he knows what’s going through his brother’s mind. - Have you talked to the warmason? - Draven asked quickly, but sincerely. - She said we should leave soon. The roads are clear, no demacians in sight. Some of our people are already there if the conditions change. The closer to the gates they got, the more people in full armor and with battle equipment they could notice. Their appearance made everyone become fraught, yet frantic. They both heard a sharp, deep voice while approaching the Trifarian Legion. - Oh, here you are, finally. Thought you maybe changed your mind Darius, like your girl did - said Swain ironically. - That’s not the right time to joke about it, general - Draven cut the talk after noticing an angry look on Darius’ face. - Everyone’s ready and waiting for your decisions. - Tell them to start opening the gates. The earlier we leave, the sooner it will be done - said the general. Everybody started to leave the town. Small warbands were as valuable as the big ones. Every warrior, young and old, experienced and callow, was appreciated. They all wanted one thing - to bring glory and lands for Noxus. Everyone wanted to finally show their true domination over Demacia and make the Trifarix rule most of the Runeterra. As the noxians approached the battlefield, they were getting more and more excited. You could see the fire burning in their eyes, their thirst for demacian blood had to be fulfilled. - Quill would be proud of you - said Draven and smiled at his brother. - Even after leaving Noxus, she still believed you’re a good man. She wanted the same things as you - freedom and power for the regions. - The thing is, we wanted to achieve it with different ways. But it’s not really the time to talk about it. - I just wanted to give you something - Draven took a wolf’s tooth out of one of his pockets. - Invetia gave me this after she raised the banner. It belonged to Quilletta, it’s from one of the wolves you killed together in Freljord. She always kept it near her, but gave it to Invetia on the day… - Darius cut his sentence. - On the day we came to take the city. - In case anything happens. She wanted you take it as a reminder. Even though she hated the way you fight, she still cared about you deep inside. I know that. _We_ know that. And I know she still means a lot to you. Darius took the tooth out of Draven’s hand. He knew he couldn’t think about it right now, but Quill was filling all of his thoughts. He didn’t want it all to end like that. She didn’t want it either. - I’m sorry to interrupt, but you should take a look at this - said one of the warmasons. Both Draven and Darius quickly got ahead of everyone and took a look at the horizon. - And so it begins - said Draven with a smirk on his face. Hundreds of thousands of demacians were standing across the field. Everyone could see king Jarvan in his shining armor, with Garen and Luxanna next to him. They stood confidently while soldiers behind them were proudly holding the demacian banner. Everyone was waiting for the sign to start the fight. Darius looked at the wolf’s tooth once more and tightened the grip of his axe. He and Swain shared a knowing gaze. Both brothers ran towards the enemy and ended the silence with a loud, passionate and furious **”FOR NOXUS!**”. Darius led the Trifarian Legion, cutting all the opponents he saw in half or leaving them to bleed out. He was relentless; No one ever saw him being as aggressive as he was then. His eyes were wild and desirous of enemy’s pain. He didn’t care about his legion, brother, or other noxians fighting next to him. He felt like it was between him and Demacia, like he’s doing it to mourn the sorrows he was keeping inside of him all of the time. He wanted to show everybody the true potential of Noxus. He barely noticed Katarina throwing her daggers and cutting the enemy’s throat right next to him. He look a quick glance at the battlefield. It seemed that they were winning and that Trifarian Legion with the help of warbands led by Draven could take care of most of the warriors. He wanted to get rid of his main enemy, the person he despised the most - Jarvan. He stood in the middle of the field for a second, thinking about his plan. - Need any assistance with it? - asked Draven as if he shared his thoughts with Darius. - I wanna do it alone. He ran, bypassing everyone. His eyes were locked and focused on the king, yet his mind was still on Quill. He ran even faster. Anyone who tried to stop him, ended up dead. The rage inside of him was getting bigger and bigger. The moment he got next to the Jarvan, all the anger he had inside of him just… _exploded_. The red dust was blinding everyone. They could only hear intense howling and a sound of his axe wounding the king’s body. The armor didn’t stop any hits, as if it wasn’t even there. As the dust slowly fell down, the warriors could see Darius taking his axe out of Jarvan’s dead body. There was a spirit of a wolf standing next to the Trifarian Legion’s leader. When demacians started to retreat, Darius took the Jarvan’s crown and put it on his own head. As the noxian army started going after the enemy, one of the warmasons came up to Darius and asked: - Shall we start preparing to build the Noxtoraa? - I think our victory has been made clear. Their full surrender is only a formality. - As you say - the warmason was quickly heading to the others. - Oh - screamed Darius - and tell Luxanna that if they’ll try to fight back **again**, she can prepare to grieve not only the lost of her king and warriors, but also her beloved brother.
You aren't bad at writing at all. Very well done! I really appreciate, that you participated. :) {{sticker:katarina-love}} P.S. GJ KITSU! ❤
: Acutely aware of the fact that his men needed something to hold on to in the face of such great loss, Garen forced himself to stand tall, hiding behind a mask of cold resolve. A flash of silver and the roar of a lion brought about the answer to his deepest desire. "Power to protect." The thought spoken in a voice foreign to him disappeared as fast and unexpectedly as it came. A shadow of a dangerous emotion clouded Garen's vision as he tasted the unmistakeable sourness in his mouth. Magic. Fighting his own growing anger, he focused on leading his men out of the enemy camp and into the safety of the woods. With every broken twig and sound of crushed leaves carrying them towards familiar land, the immediate threat of the enemy became a subtle wariness, much like the fragmented feelings lingering after awaking from a nightmare. - Lux had been summoned by the king. Because of it’s close proximity to the throne room and it’s large collection of books related to magic, Garen decided to await his sisters return in the royal library. He forced himself to browse through the shelves, exclusively searching for books on the arcane arts. Picking up the oldest looking books, bound in leather and adorned with mysterious symbols shining golden, Garen sat himself at a table next to a big window. Demacia lay before him. The never ending sea of grass below, was broken up only by the villagers going about their daily routine. Garen couldn’t help but smile to himself. "No war could ruin this." He thought. "No loss was too great." Guilt. Instant and unforgiving. Seeing the world unchanged after Jarvan's death seemed to Garen unfair. Though he quickly dismissed the thought with a sweep of his hand, unwilling to accept its selfish nature. If only he’d been strong enough to take that whole Noxian camp on his own. "Nobody else will ever have to suffer Jarvan's fate." "Garen?" Lux was standing next to a nearby bookshelf. “The meeting must be over” he thought. He did his best to look unfazed. "Well?" Garen looked at her expectedly. Her excitement gave the news away before she could even speak. - The relatively small number of window made for poor lighting. Even so, he could easily notice his sister’s nervous fidgeting. A now familiar growl resonated in Garen's head. The creature let out a rough chuckles, making it’s presence known. “Look at him. What would you give to have him back?” The peaceful expression on Jarvan's features reminded him of the statues decorating the throne room. With his hands crossed on his chest, chin held high and lax jaw, he had an undeniably imposing presence. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think him asleep. The answer came easy to him. “Anything” A low purr echoed in his mind. Seeing Lux flinch in the corner of his eye made him realize she had heard the beast too. “I am no longer alone in this nightmare” Garen thought. “Your love for your friend is heartwarming. As for calling this a nightmare; I think this is the closest you’ve ever come to admitting to yourself that you are scared.” “Who are you? And what have you done to the prince!” Garen gritted his teeth. He wasn’t scared he was downright furious. How dare it patronize him, imply that he— “A friend.” It answered simply. “Jarvan will be fine, he just needs rest. But you know just as well as I do that Jarvan's fate could’ve easily been more... tragic" Hearing his thoughts mirrored back to him by the creature did nothing to reassure Garen. If anything, it fueled his distaste for it. "You’ve always made the limitations of your own body out to be your biggest hindrance. Training without respite. Admirable effort. I can give you the power you seek, Garen." "What do you want?" Unnerved by the creatures apparent understanding of his nature, he felt a desperate need to escape it’s presence. "Accept what i am. A fair bargain" Receiving no answer in return the creature pushed further. "You are scared i know. And your fear breeds hate. You hate me for the same reason you hate your sister, you hate—“ “Don’t” Garen shifted. His whole body stiff, every muscle roaring with the urge to act, strike, take out his anger. His eyes were glazed with an undefinable emotion. “Stop talking you filth.” The words did come out of his mouth but they were so far removed from anything Garen ever felt or was that they could have easily come from somewhere else. Lux stiffened. Garen hoped she had not heard the lies of— A soul churning roar echoed in the chamber, the force of it hardly contained by it’s stone walls. “Have it your way. But ask yourself; how many will you hurt in your blind hatred. Nameless witches and evil creatures are easy to slaughter but what about a friend? A sister? Magic is and will always be Garen.” - The recent turn of events had challenged him in ways he didn’t even think possible. No military campaign, no siege or bloody battlefield had prepared him for this. Ignoring the existence of magic was easy when behind walls and statues and armor built with this exact purpose in mind. To be face to face with the supernatural, have it ridicule you in the most blatant way and still deny it; you had to be a special brand of thick to have that fly over your head. What really got to him though, was the creatures closing remark. “Lux i plan to find it. Come with me.” Lux was for Garen an impossible riddle. He loved her. So much. And yet, in all their time together, in every shared memory Garen could gather, he felt unease. There were things he could not explain. Things he had previously written off as “luck” or “chance” or “a trick of the light”. But now, faced with the most unlikely explanation, everything fell into place. “You know where to look?” Curiosity tinted her words, mingling with something akin to fear. She was scared for him. - He had avoided telling Lux the truth from the get-go. His sister’s curiosity was relentless and Garen's only hope was to keep it satisfied by feeding her half-truths and white lies. One day and a half of uneventful hiking through the thick foliage of the forest and he still had achieved nothing. It was true that Garen's “plan” was to put himself at the mercy of fate. But when considering that even as a soldier, faced with death itself, Garen had always gotten away mostly unscratched, it was impossible to deny his luck. At this point, the man started to suspect that fate had taken a liking to him. “Brother are you sure we are not lost?” Garen avoided eye contact, daring only a fleeting look. Now seemed as good a time as any to ask. “Lux” he hesitated. A familiar wariness laced his words. “Remember that one time we were playing war? And i was a general and you had that blanket over your head and were waving around that stick we found earlier that day in the woods?” Unsure of where her brothers story was going, she decided to entertain his train of thought further. "Yeah. And you had that wooden practice sword your older friend gave you, when he finally got a real one." So she remembered. "And i was winning. Until you..." it was hard putting what happened into words. "You said something and... i got a burned. When our parents asked, I made something up. I mean i knew i had to cover for you but- even i wasn’t sure what happened." Lux became noticeably tense. She was waiting for her brother to finish. If she had figured out what was coming next, Garen couldn’t tell. "Lux i need to know what happened. I’ve tried to explain to myself what i saw... but i always end up thinking it was magic" Lux stopped dead in her tracks. Brows narrowed and arms crossed she looked rather annoyed than scared. “Is this why you asked me to come? To accuse me of witchcraft?” She all but spat the last word. It was indeed why he had asked her to accompany him. The creature, Garen had come to realize, was correct in it’s every accusation. He was hate fueled. No amount of meditation could reveal to him what he’d do when faced with the impossible choice; his sister or the truth. Receiving no answer, Lux caved in. Her eyes became glazed by stubborn tears that wouldn’t fall. “So you know” And there she was. His biggest nightmare, hiding behind gentle eyes and quivering lips. He reached for his sword, searching for a grip on reality, something to ground him in the moment. But his motion only escalated the tension. Lux was now holding her staff, falling into a battle stance. “Garen what a shame. I was rooting for you” the familiar voice boomed in his mind. “You were right. About everything.” “I am happy to hear you’ve taken my words to heart, but I’d be much happier if you’d loosen your grip on that sword” ”I will no longer listen to you.” With a swift swing of his arms, the sword was now pinned in the damp ground of the forest. He looked up, allowing his hard features to relax into something less frightening. “A Demacian will never stand alone. I would give anything to protect you sister.” A bright light appeared at the union between sky and earth. From it, an ivory lion stepped into the clearing, elegantly stepping over blades of grass and fallen leaves, leaving no trace behind. “Are you ready to accept my gift?” And without hesitation the answer came. “Yes.” -1.645 words ;-;
Moving and epic story! GJ! https://media.giphy.com/media/26hpKMTa5HgdSMhRC/200.gif Thank you so much, for participating!
EquyNoxius (EUNE)
: A Trade of Blood [INTRODUCTION] ‘ Very well, I’ll join my men. ‘ said Draven, licking his lips. He had never seen his brother this reluctant – the doubt Darius’ grin tried hiding scared him, it made him think of this war as more than usual Noxian routine, it weakened the grip on the blades he felt so used to wield. He attempted digging up memories through his casual tone, trying to remind his brother how the very nerve he showed through his gestures had managed to keep two fate-less boys alive 23 years ago – if it was enough to do the same for a titan, they were yet to see. But Darius simply saw through his brothers’ endeavors and remained unbothered, allowing himself to briefly unveil the weakness he had once banished in order to stay alive. His will of iron had aged and the war against Demacia was to test if it was to bend…even in the slightest. ‘ Good luck, brother ‘ whispered Draven, sighing in defeat. As the doors closed shut behind Darius with his brother’s departure, the once rambling voices of the crowds outside the tower in which they resided turned silent – the executioner’s entrance was greeted with an outburst of cheers, with war songs and a sea of raised swords pointing at the axes he so fearlessly swung in his descent. Secluded in the backstage of this event, Darius could not help but to reveal a half-smile – this rare occurrence was something even the deserted tower was honored to attend. To him , that was what being a Noxian truly meant : one does not simply fight for Noxus, for a name to which he can only add more weight when spoken by foreigners… he bleeds and struggles for its people. And then, they follow your example: they die for you, they kill for you and only live to taste acknowledgement. Those hungering cheers of the crowds reminded him of this, they strengthened him, they made him Noxian. Caressing the cuts in his axe, he contained his fears. Risen from his chair, he repelled any glimpse of emotion – to win any battle, to take lives without remorse, he had to ascend to heights beyond the grasp of mediocrity… he had to embody a god, someone on which his people could paint their visions for Noxus. ‘It is time indeed.’ , muttered Darius under his breath, as he guided his hands across the furrows in the doors. He expected the cheers to entirely cure him, to wither the doubts he had sent away. Awaiting to be showered in relief, he forcefully opened the doors, rooting his axe to the staircase from which he was to be admired… And then, rain. The rain of mothers wailing for their sons, the rain of arrows fidgeting with bloodlust in the air, the rain of men thumping the ground in defeat and of souls escaping their corpses – it all rained down… on Darius. The ones cheering him below were as silent as a grave, nailed to the muddy floor of Noxian outskirts. He could see their mouths twitching, but the pain hailing upon him repulsed the joy the cheers were to give him. As he climbed down, he dared not look beyond the wall, dared not face the chance of meeting the eyes of one of his own. Men who have poured dreams into him, waiting for them to flourish with each victory, while they fought their lives away . Resisting temptation, he kept eyeing the faces of the fortunate, who were clapping below to welcome their very incarnation of bravery. Having reached the ground, the armor which had grown onto his skin became heavy. He passed through his soldiers, who were readying themselves for what they were to face, forging friendships and brotherhoods in the shadow of war. Thinking of himself as no more than one of the armored juveniles he was joined by, he waited for the gates to open, to join his brother on the battlefield. The gates however, only opened partly and for three, perhaps four winks. The soldiers, obviously not amused by the incident, clattered their swords against their chest plates and smashed their spears into the mud, leaving their excitement to brew further. A wagon of corpses, pulled by two limping archers made its way from the gate through the questioning looks of the warriors. The sole number of the faces he was shortly going to forget upset Darius, gifting him with an undying thirst for revenge. But under a nameless foot in the wagon lay an unmistakable half of his brother’s shattered axe: he somehow knew he wasn’t dead, but he had to see it for himself, for far from dead he surely was not. His twisting fury faded with the impending march of the army. As the gates were opening, the deafening war-horns promised an inevitable outcome: which one it was to be, only Darius could think of more than one option. And there he stood, clueless and angered among his fighters, clearing the way of corpses with his sinking feet. He felt a mix of unease and fury, a war of the mind between his present and past self which was to share fates with the war against Demacia. He had changed and as much as he wanted to, he could not deny it. The Demacian forces were beautifully patterned, flags of the golden eagle attempting to conceal the heavily armored figure of Garen, who was shadowing the sorry excuse of Jarvan. Darius marched towards the horde of struggling soldiers, lured by the revenge he himself had promised. And he began. Swinging his axe with sheer force, without a hint of elegance, he slaughtered. The massacre he was so used to blinded him, making him kill both ally and foe, making him only kill for the sake of driving the weak away. The scent of men, blood, sweat and steel had turned him into a monster. But with each neck he severed, with each spine he crushed her graceful silhouette was drawn in his mind : it was the irreproachable figure of Quill. ‘For how long, Darius? It may eventually happen, that Noxus conquers everything, Noxus as far as the eye can see. What then? –‘ ‘Only then will I rest, Quill, why couldn’t you see --‘… he stopped. The memories brought back by murder were like venom, impairing his strikes and denting his need for blood. Was this truly what he had envisioned for Noxus? If he was not to die of a blade impaling his heart then his mind was surely going to end him. In order to win, he had to conquer himself. ‘Brother!’ The voice echoed through the field of bodies, overpowering the roars of every swearing Noxian. Enraged, Darius wandered his eyes across all corners of the field, hunting for the image of his fallen brother… Darius fell on his knees. His brother lay only a few corpses away, buried in dry dirt and broken arrows. Darius was soaked in the blood of many, but only the sight of his brother’s managed to pain him. ‘Don’t you dare fall, Darius…’ coughed Draven, trying to swipe the wounds off his face. He smiled. That damned smile had kept them both alive for so long, if only now it had the power to do the same. ‘Sacrifice shelters victory… it’s what you always used to say. Now stand firm, brother. Noxus dies with you.’ whispered Draven, the last drop of life within him allowing him to only mouth the last remark. The words pained Darius, yet as his brother closed his eyes they heightened him. He could simply no longer embody the image Noxus wanted him to. He had to become what Noxus needed, lead his potential beyond the borders of reality. Alone in the field of his own dead, Darius faced Garen, Jarvan’s cold weight resting on his shoulders. After observing what was left of the Demacians, he closed his eyes and laughed at their untimely celebration. He had won the war from within and the war of the mind was tied to the one against Demacia by kindred – despite the odds, he was yet to return victorious. ‘Arise brother! The blood we have spilt is to be paid for!’ uttered Darius, the unforgiving jaws of a wolf shaping out of Draven’s motionless body. Pointing his axe in disgust towards Garen, he shouted: ‘Pain lurks below me, rage reclines against my resolve! Only the future guides above me, but not for long…for I am the God-King !’ {{sticker:darius-angry}} DISCLAIMER : Darius' comic had a huge influence on my writing 1428 words ENJOY <3
I enjoyed <3 https://media.giphy.com/media/l1J9Dp7ibqayha0RG/giphy.gif Cool Story. Thanks for submitting it!
Revintar (EUW)
: Aggression, discipline, relentlessness - That’s how the warrior Darius earned tremendous respect in Noxus. With a sinister and strict stare, his mighty and terrifying Battleaxe firm in hand, he glanced out of the stone round arch window. A self-confident grin flickered across his scarred face. He had drastic changes in mind for Noxus’ future, pridefully dead set upon them being successful. He looked over his shoulder as he heard a faint, hoarse laugh. Full of enthusiasm, Draven swung his axes, threw a questioning glance at Darius. “It’s time, isn’t it, brother?” A short, ominous silence followed that question, Darius just gazed into the Distance. He turned around slowly and looked sternly into his brothers crazy eyes, while he stroke the ragged blade of his mighty axe with his bare hand - “It is time already,....brother.” “Then stop staring at nothing “ Draven smirked. He didn’t care about what was going to happen, didn’t understand the great ideas of the endless war. All he wanted is to rush straight into the bloody bath of the new era of Chaos. Darius wanted to answer him but the horrifying howl in his head interrupted all of his thoughts. Again, this was it. The call of the new future, the call of the power that will change this world. For a second he saw bright red eyes in front of him. They were staring straight into the human’s soul, burning it like demonic fire. There was no voice, there were no words but he understood what did they want. They need a sacrifice. He needs to prove that he is worthy the power they offer. And there’s only one way to show it. “Let’s go” he said to brother. Together they walked straight to Swain who was on the balcony upstairs. The raven on his shoulder slowly turned it’s head to brothers and stared at them with it’s red eyes. There was no guard around. Darius understood that the pure silence covered this place as if the castle by itself was waiting for the new ruler. A few years ago he believed that Swain is the leader that would lead Noxus to glory. However, he was acting too slow, too careful. If you want something to be done right… you have to do it by yourself. He grabbed the handle of his axe while Draven was literally shaking in impatience next to him. “At least you are not attacking from behind like those cowards” said Swain. His voice was calm as always, he didn’t move, didn’t make any attempt to run or to fight.”You’ve come to kill me, my royal warrior. Before we begin, I want to ask you a question: do you really believe that if you kill me the power you’ll get will be enough for you to conquer the world?” “It will be enough to make Noxus the only great empire” Darius answered. Swain quietly laughed. “That’s the reason why you will never succeed. There will always be the opposite force to balance you no matter how strong you’ll become. The balance is stronger than—“ he didn’t have time to continue. Draven, tired of waiting, threw one of his axes into him. Swain caught it like a toy. A giant black hand with long claws appeared from the floor and grabbed the human so hard that he screamed. The entire room became alive. All of the shadows began to move towards Darius who ran to Swain and instead of attacking with his weapon he pushed the ruler with himself out of the balcony. At last second he managed to grab the stone pillars. It was a mistake. Swain was floating behind him. His eyes turned into pure blackness. Two black wings were sticking out of his back, consuming all light. Suddenly an axe pierced his right shoulder. Darius heard an insane laugh of his brother who managed to escape the demonic hand. He quickly climbed back and grabbed his own axe which was dropped nearby. He felt pain in his arm and saw the bright red energy pulling off his skin. A loud hiss began to envelop the man. He could not lose. Not now. Roaring like beast, Darius threw the axe with all the strength he had and fell on knees. Silence for a moment… He heard Draven running to him and looked up. As soon as he did it he heard the loud scream that couldn’t belong to any human. Swain disappeared. “Ah, I am so sad! I lost my favorite axe!” suddenly gasped Draven. “Pity that everything is over now. This battle ended too fast” “It’s not over yet.” Said Darius while turning to his brother and getting up. Draven couldn’t expect what was going to happen. He wasn’t ready. Darius grabbed his neck. After so long... “The target wasn’t him. It was you” he said. “Swain was only the obstacle between me and the throne.” Crack. Draven’s body fell on the floor. Darius didn't think about past with his brother, didn't think about what he's done now. He didn't let himself to regret. Noxus is more important. Darius heard a howl that was getting louder with every second. Two eyes appeared in front of him. They were getting closer, closer until he understood that he was drowning in them. It’s only for the good of Noxus.... This is only the beginning.
Me at the end of the story: https://media.giphy.com/media/SimxOzML5wLq8/giphy.gif Well done! Thanks for participating!
Marissa (EUW)
: Looking forward to my story she says.... hehe ... Time to break sum rulez! {{sticker:galio-happy}}
"Rules are made to be broken.." :P https://media.giphy.com/media/NkKRgwi4MX6Eg/source.gif
Rismosch (EUW)
: How do I turn this music off? Did no one tell you to that uncontrolable sound on a webpage is not a good idea? {{sticker:zombie-brand-mindblown}} I guess it's a big ego boost and an opportunity to show your skills off "hey look at me, I can put sound on a webpage, am I not cool?", but honestly it's annoying as hell.
You can simply mute the tab! The soundtrack was made to give a more epic feeling to this big and majestic battle between Noxus and Demacia. We will implement a play button next time! {{sticker:slayer-jinx-catface}}
Rismosch (EUW)
: Friends
My Demacian Heart was pounding when I read your story! GJ, great work! A lots of appreciation for your participation! {{sticker:garen-swing}}
BloopyLad (EUW)
: The God-King's Betrayal
Amazing Story! Cheers! I appreciate it a lot that you participated in my contest! {{sticker:zombie-nunu-hearts}}
: Fanfiction Contest: VS Event 2018; For the Hand of Noxus! A promise to a friend...
Great story! So excited! I appreciate your participation very much! {{sticker:sg-lux}}
: {{sticker:slayer-pantheon-popcorn}}
: i'm so bad at writing but reading this contest felt nice anyway with the lore and the music, good jooob! xD
: First rule of any kind of contest: ALWAYS exploit the rules in your favor {{sticker:slayer-jinx-wink}} They said "approximately", so ppl took that as an invitation to push the boundaries a bit. In general however, more words doesn't necessarily equal higher quality. In fact, being able to find a way to tell a compelling story in few words is a mark of a talented writer. So I wouldn't worry too much about how many words you used.
> [{quoted}](name=Nightangael,realm=EUW,application-id=yTagKVTg,discussion-id=WNNQ0wZg,comment-id=001f000000000000,timestamp=2018-07-12T14:04:57.701+0000) > > First rule of any kind of contest: ALWAYS exploit the rules in your favor {{sticker:slayer-jinx-wink}} They said &quot;approximately&quot;, so ppl took that as an invitation to push the boundaries a bit. In general however, more words doesn&#x27;t necessarily equal higher quality. In fact, being able to find a way to tell a compelling story in few words is a mark of a talented writer. So I wouldn&#x27;t worry too much about how many words you used. Exactly. Stories with more words don't have any advantages! Most well written, inspiring and exciting stories will win! {{sticker:sg-ahri-2}}
: Will we be notified if we’re chosen, oh, great Catctusgrill?
I will post a winner thread, as soon as I am finished! I can send you the link here then. :) Thanks you so much for being part of the contest! {{sticker:katarina-love}}
: Ah, there we go. Thx a lot cactus! {{sticker:slayer-pantheon-thumbs}}
Anytime! And thank YOU for participating! I appreciate every single one a lot! {{sticker:zombie-nunu-hearts}}
: So when will the winners be chosen? {{sticker:garen-swing}}
Later tonight. We are currently reading all the amazing stories! {{sticker:slayer-pantheon-popcorn}}
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