League of Legends Champion Spotlight

Akali, The Fist of Shadow

There exists an ancient order originating in the Ionian Isles dedicated to the preservation of balance. Order, chaos, light, darkness — all things must exist in perfect harmony for such is the way of the universe. This order is known as the Kinkou and it employs a triumvirate of shadow warriors to uphold its causes in the world. Akali is one of these shadow warriors, entrusted with the sacred duty of Pruning the Tree – eliminating those who threaten the equilibrium of Valoran.

A prodigal martial artist, Akali began training with her mother as soon as she could make a fist. Her mother’s discipline was relentless and unforgiving, but predicated on the fundamental principle: ”We do that which must be done.” When the Kinkou inducted her into the order at the age of fourteen, she could slice a dangling chain with a chop of her hand. There was no question – she would succeed her mother as the Fist of Shadow. She has had to do much in this role which others might find morally questionable, but to her it is in service of her mother’s inviolable doctrine. She now works with her fellows Shen and Kennen to enforce the balance of Valoran. This hallowed pursuit has unsurprisingly led the triumvirate to the Fields of Justice.

”The Fist of Shadow strikes from the cover of death itself. Do not impede the balance.”

Alistar, The Minotaur

As the mightiest warrior to ever emerge from the Minotaur tribes of the Great Barrier, Alistar defended his tribe from Valoran’s many dangers; that is, until the coming of the Noxian army. Alistar was lured from his village by the machinations of Keiran Darkwill, General Boram Darkwill’s youngest son and commander of the Noxian expeditionary force. When Alistar returned, he found his village burning and his family slain. Bellowing with rage, he charged an entire regiment of Noxus’ elite, slaughtering them by the hundreds. Only the intervention of some of Noxus’ most skilled summoners checked Alistar’s rage. Brought in chains to Noxus, Alistar spent the intervening years as a gladiator in the Fleshing, pitted in endless battle for the entertainment of Noxus’ wealthy leaders.

Alistar’s once noble soul slowly became twisted, and he would have been driven to insanity if not for Ayelia, a young servant girl who befriended him and eventually arranged for his escape. Suddenly free, Alistar joined the newly formed League of Legends to fight as a champion, hoping to one day exact his final vengeance upon Noxus and find the girl who had renewed his hope. Initially unwilling to cater to his celebrity status as a champion, Alistar has since discovered that there is power in fame, and he has become a vocal advocate for those whom the Noxian government treads upon. He also calls to light things that the Noxian military would prefer remain hidden — something that has made him very unpopular with Noxus’ nobles. His charitable work has earned him several philanthropic awards, which serve as an interesting contrast to the rage and destruction he brings to the League of Legends.

If you intend to grab the bull by the horns as a summoner, Alistar might have something to say about that.

Amumu, The Sad Mummy

Perhaps one of the oddest champions in the League of Legends is the yordle known as Amumu. His life before joining the League remains unknown… especially to Amumu. All he remembers is that he woke up alone inside a pyramid within the Shurima Desert. He was entwined in mummy wrappings and he could not feel his heart beat. Furthermore, he felt a deep sadness that he could not entirely explain; he knew he missed his parents, though he could not remember who they were. Dropping to his knees, Amumu wept into his bandages. No matter what he did, it seemed he could never stop his tears or sadness. Eventually he stood up, determined to wander the world to discover his past. Amumu traveled all across southern Valoran – a feat that is not easily dismissed.

While Amumu still hasn’t learned much about his past, he has learned a great deal about who he has become. He is most assuredly undead, though he harbors none of the evil characteristics typical of undead beings. He also seems to keep trouble at arm’s length; Amumu was able to traverse all of Southern Valoran without so much as a single bad thing happening to him. He was just sad, and the people and beings he encountered eventually shared his sadness. Ultimately, he made his way north across the Great Barrier to the Institute of War, the home of the League. Amumu’s story was compelling to the summoners he met there, and they invited him to take part in a League Judgment. His success within the League as a champion has given Amumu something he desired: a home. With his present (un)life secured, he now hopes the friends he has made will help him discover his past.

”Things are bad when Amumu is crying, but they’re much worse when he’s angry.” – Ezreal

Anivia, The Cryophoenix

In most lore, the phoenix is a creature of fire that rises from its own ashes. What few know, however, is that phoenixes are elemental beings, formed by the eternal essences of their native world. Anivia was conceived on a world such as this – a being of the coldest winter, a creature of pure elemental ice. On her world, Anivia was the protector of the frozen wastes and all those with the spirit to endure in such unforgiving places. She was consulted as a creature of great wisdom, one who could not die and who had seen the world renewed several times. Somehow, Anivia knew that the day would come when she would be plucked from her home and pulled across worlds, and when that day came, she received the call with grace. Seeing the imbalance and injustice on Runeterra, a world lacking elemental protectors, Anivia took her place at the League of Legends.

Since her arrival, the Cryophoenix has chosen to live among the highest peaks of the Northern Ironspike Mountains, adjacent to the frozen wastes of Freljord. She has openly claimed this territory as her own protectorate. Surprisingly, Anivia has struck up a friendship with the yeti of this region – a friendship that grows deeper and deeper with each passing moon. She has formed a close bond with two League champions: Nunu (and Willump) and the nomad princess Ashe. In a move that caught the League by surprise, the Cryophoenix recently entreated the summoners of the Institute of War to research a means in bringing across others of her elemental fellows. As a champion, Anivia is revered with a sense of awe by most, but is not the most popular as most consider her unapproachable.

Some say the world will end in fire, some in ice. Anivia awaits the inevitable latter.

Annie, The Dark Child

In the time shortly before the League, there were those within the sinister city-state of Noxus who did not agree with the evils perpetrated by the Noxian High Command. The High Command had just put down a coup attempt from the self-proclaimed Crown Prince Raschallion, and a crack down on any form of dissent against the new government was underway. These political and social outcasts, known as the Gray Order, sought to leave their neighbors in peace as they pursued dark arcane knowledge. The leaders of this outcast society were a married couple: Gregori Hastur, the Gray Warlock, and his wife Amoline, the Shadow Witch. Together they led an exodus of magicians and other intelligentsia from Noxus, resettling their followers beyond the Great Barrier to the northern reaches of the unforgiving Voodoo Lands. Though survival was a challenge at times, the Gray Order’s colony managed to thrive in a land where so many others would have failed.

Years after the exodus, Gregori and Amoline had a child: Annie. Early on, Annie’s parents knew there was something special about their daughter. At the age of two, Annie miraculously ensorcelled a shadow bear – a ferocious denizen of the petrified forests outside the colony – turning it into her pet. To this day she keeps her bear ”Tibbers” by her side, often keeping him spellbound as a stuffed doll to be carried like a child’s toy. The combination of Annie’s lineage and the dark magic of her birthplace have given this little girl tremendous arcane power. It is this same girl who now finds herself as one of the most sought-after champions within the League of Legends – even by the city-state that would have exiled her parents had they not fled beforehand.

”Annie may be one of the most powerful champions ever to have fought in a Field of Justice. I shudder to think of her capabilities when she becomes an adult.” – High Councilor Kiersta Mandrake

Ashe, The Frost Archer

One of the perennial favorites of summoners in the League of Legends is the Freljordian beauty known as Ashe. She is a direct descendant of Avarosa – one of three legendary sisters who each claimed dominion over the scattered tribes dwelling in the icy tundra of northern Valoran. Ashe mirrors her ancestor’s unparalleled mastery of the bow, earning her the title of ”The Frost Archer” the way Avarosa did during her era. Ashe is a literal Princess amongst her people, though she prefers to be addressed by outsiders as her tribal title rather than any form of royal moniker. There are those in Freljord, however, that would prefer to address Ashe as the ”late” Frost Archer; the other two tribes that are descendants from the Three Sisters are historically sworn enemies of Ashe and her people. Having survived more than one assassination attempt in her life, Ashe is always aware of her surroundings regardless of where she is.

Ashe originally came to the Institute of War in service of the League summoners, seeking enough influence and favor to finally bring peace to her realm – one that has endured civil strife since Avarosa and the Time of the Three Sisters. With countless victories under her belt, she has started to put the influence she has earned in the League to use. Rumors abound that Ashe has begun to associate herself with fellow champion Tryndamere outside of the Fields of Justice. While she denies such talk as frivolous, all eyes will remain on Ashe now that her success in the League may finally allow her to restore lasting peace to her people.

”It’s a good idea to spread out. Ashe can hit five birds with one arrow.” – Tryndamere

Blitzcrank, The Great Steam Golem

The city of Zaun is a place where both magic and science have gone awry. The unchecked nature of experimentation has taken its toll on the city. However, Zaun’s lenient restrictions allow their researchers and inventors the leeway to push the bounds of science at an accelerated rate, for better or worse. It was under these conditions that a team of doctoral students from Zaun’s College of Techmaturgy made a breakthrough in the field of intelligent steam automation. Their creation, the steam golem Blitzcrank, was developed to exercise judgment on-the-fly in order to assist with Zaun’s hazardous waste reclamation process, since so often the conditions did not allow for human supervision. However, he soon began exhibiting unforeseen behaviors.

Over time, the scientists were able to identify a demonstrated learning process, and Blitzcrank fast became a celebrity. As is sadly often the case though, credit for the golem’s creation was scooped up by another – Professor Stanwick Pididly – though most now know the truth. In the wake of the ensuing legal maelstrom, it became evident that neither party truly had the steam golem’s best interests at heart, and Blitzcrank humbly petitioned for personal autonomy. Backed by overwhelming support from the public, it took the liberal Council of Zaun only a few weeks to declare Blitzcrank a fully-independent, sentient entity. A unique being, the golem left Zaun, distressed by the controversy and feeling there was no place he could fit in. His travels led him to the one location in Valoran where unique beings have a place – the League of Legends. Fortunately, he was easily able to adapt his design to suit the rigors he would face on the Fields of Justice.

Though Blitzcrank may batter anything that stands in his way, he really has a heart of gold…encased in a framework of iron…in a carapace of steel.

Brand, The Burning Vengeance

In a faraway place known as Lokfar there was a seafaring marauder called Kegan Rodhe. As was his people’s way, Kegan sailed far and wide with his fellows, stealing treasures from those unlucky enough to catch their attention. To some, he was a monster; to others, just a man. One night, as they sailed through the arctic waters, strange lights danced over the frozen wastes. There was something hypnotic about them; it was something that drew them to it like moths to a flame. Trekking across the frozen waste, they came to a cave covered in ancient runes. The meaning of the runes long lost to them, Kegan led the way inside. There, inside a perfect cage of ice floated a dancing column of flame. There was no way such a thing should be burning, especially not in this place. However, its movement was as hypnotic as a siren’s song, captivating and seductive. While the others stayed back, Kegan could not help but approach it while holding out his hand…

That is the last thing Kegan Rodhe remembers, for now his body belongs to Brand. It is a creature of olden times, perhaps even a casualty of the Rune Wars. It is known in ancient texts as the Burning Vengeance. It is a creature of pure fiery hate that exists for no other reason than to lay waste the world of men and yordles. No one is quite sure how Brand found his way to Valoran, but he began his predations at once. Overcome by Demacian forces, he was given a choice: fight within the confines of the League or die. Naturally, he chose to use his destructive powers in the League, for now…

”This place will burn, not by cinder flying or breath of wind, but by the vengeance of my hand.”
-Brand

Caitlyn, The Sheriff of Piltover

One of the reasons Piltover is known as the City of Progress is because it has an extraordinarily low crime rate. This hasn’t always been the case; brigands and thieves of all sorts used to find the city-state an ideal mark for plunder, primarily due to the valuable resources it imports to fuel its techmaturgical research. Some even theorize that it would have fallen long ago to the chaos of organized crime if not for Caitlyn, the Sheriff of Piltover. Born the daughter of a wealthy statesman and a pioneering hextech researcher, Caitlyn discovered her natural gift for investigation when, at age 14, her father was assaulted and robbed on his way home. She snuck out of her house that night with her father’s rifle and tracked down the muggers from the crime scene. At first, her parents did their best to discourage her from such risky hobbies, but she was incorrigible. Wishing to protect her daughter in the only way she knew how, Caitlyn’s mother began outfitting her with techmaturgical devices tailored to her sleuthing needs.

Caitlyn quickly gained notoriety, both because she was single handedly defeating crime in Piltover and also because she soon developed into a ravishing beauty. She never backed down from a case or a challenge, and she was one of the sharpest shots in the city-state. Her services were soon requested by Demacia to help track down a mysterious outlaw who had begun committing high-profile heists. The bandit, who always left a card with an ornate ‘C’ at the scene of the crime, became Caitlyn’s arch-nemesis. To this day, Caitlyn still searches for this cat burglar, and the chase has led her all across Valoran. She has joined the League to hone her skills and gain the influence necessary to track down the only quarry that has managed to evade her.

”Go ahead, run. I’ll give you a five minute head start.”
– Caitlyn, from her book ‘Willing Apprehension’.

Cassiopeia, The Serpent’s Embrace

While her sister Katarina has always been the most celebrated member of the household, the Du Couteau family has a long history of service to Noxus. It has often been said that no soldier has ever been as fortunate as General Du Couteau to have been graced with daughters. His youngest, Cassiopeia – despite lacking her sister’s killer instincts – was equally renowned in court for her stately character and elegance. Cunning as she was beautiful, the temptress could never be found far from the arm of any foreign dignitary, her wiles prying secrets from the lips of even the most wary attache. With the Noxian barbarian pacification campaign having ground to a standstill, Cassiopeia had set her sights on a diplomat from a tribe of the Freljord region. Thinking him an easy mark, the scheming seductress set about beguiling him. He refused to confide in her, however, until she swore an oath of secrecy upon his sword – a strange weapon with a serpentine curve to the blade.

Once her tryst was over, Cassiopeia provisioned her father with information regarding the barbarian resistance. As she divulged this intelligence, a wave of revulsion washed over her. She screamed in agony as her silky skin hardened to scales, her lustrous hair thickened to leather, and her manicured fingernails sharpened to claws. Dazed, she fell upon a group of horrified servants, rending them limb from limb in a heartbeat. When it was over the blood-soaked figure was no longer the ravishing jewel of the Noxian court, but a horror trapped somewhere between woman and serpent. Unable to serve in her traditional capacity, Cassiopeia departed for the League, continuing her service to Noxus on the Fields of Justice.

”Though she may have appeared the innocent flower, she was the serpent under it.” – Katarina, the Sinister Blade

Cho’Gath, The Terror of the Void

There is a place between dimensions, between worlds. To some it is known as the Outside, to others it is the Unknown. To those that truly know, however, it is called the Void. Despite its name, the Void is not an empty place, but rather the home of unspeakable things – horrors not meant for minds of men. Cho’Gath is a creature born of the Void, a thing whose true nature is so awful most will not speak its name. Its fellows have been poking at the walls that divide dimensions for a crack, a way into Runeterra, where they can visit their own personal paradise of horror upon the world. They are called the Voidborn, creatures so ancient and terrible that they have been removed from history altogether. It is rumored that the Voidborn command vast armies of unspeakable creatures on other worlds, that they were once driven from Runeterra by powerful magic lost to antiquity.

If such tales are true, then the rumors that follow must be equally true – that one day, the Voidborn will return. Even now, something dark stirs in Icathia, perverting the summoning rituals of the League to allow the presence of Cho’Gath. It is an alien creature of malice and violence, a thing that causes all but the most stalwart to cringe in fear. Cho’Gath even appears to feed on its predations, growing and swelling as it gorges itself. Worse yet, the creature is intelligent, perhaps greatly so, making most wonder how such a monster could be contained. Fortunately, the power of the League’s summoning has confined Cho’Gath’s presence exclusively to the League of Legends. It is here that summoners use Cho’Gath’s Voidborn abilities to help decide the fate of Runeterra. The Terror of the Void knows what fate it would choose for Runeterra, given half the chance.

Woe betide the day when Cho’Gath grows weary of the League.

Corki, The Daring Bombardier

When Heimerdinger and his yordle colleagues migrated to Piltover, they embraced science as a way of life, and they immediately made several groundbreaking contributions to the techmaturgical community. What yordles lack in stature, they make up for with industriousness. Corki, the Daring Bombardier, gained his title by test-piloting one of these contributions – the original design for the Reconnaissance Operations Front-Line Copter, an aerial assault vehicle which has become the backbone of the Bandle City Expeditionary Force (BCEF). Together with his squadron – the Screaming Yipsnakes – Corki soars over Valoran, surveying the landscape and conducting aerial acrobatics for the benefit of onlookers below.

Corki is the most renowned of the Screaming Yipsnakes for remaining cool under fire and exhibiting bravery to the point of madness. Before the League, he served several tours of duty, often volunteering for missions that would take him behind enemy lines, either gathering intelligence or delivering messages through hot zones. He thrived on danger, and enjoyed nothing more than a good dogfight in the morning. More than just an ace pilot, Corki also made several modifications to his copter, outfitting it with an arsenal of weapons which some speculate were more for show than functionality. When open hostilities ceased as part of the agreement surrounding the formation of the League, Corki was forced into a retirement, which he felt ”cut the engines and clipped the wings”. He tried to make do with stunt flying and canyon running, but it was never the same without the refreshing smell of gunpowder streaking through the air around him. When Heimerdinger joined the League of Legends, it was no surprise to see Corki follow soon after, eager to test his mettle against the best the world has to offer.

He is Corki – death from above!

Dr. Mundo, The Madman of Zaun

It is said that the man now known as Dr. Mundo was born without any sort of conscience. Instead, he had an unquenchable desire to inflict pain through experimentation. By the time he was five, most of the pets in the Zaun neighborhood where Mundo grew up had gone missing. By his teenage years, his parents were nowhere to be found. By the time he had legally acquired his license to practice medicine, he had been acquitted of thirty-eight separate charges of murder by the Zaun authorities; the lack of evidence made prosecution impossible.

Dr. Mundo has become equal parts serial killer and mad scientist, though no one is entirely sure how his butchery qualifies as science. However, he has made tremendous strides in mapping the pain response in the human brain and body, going so far as being able to suppress it, even in the most excruciating of circumstances. He has also tapped into the primal parts of the brain through chemistry, learning how to enhance aggression and adrenaline, as well as dulling conscience and the survival instinct. In short, Dr. Mundo’s life’s work has been how to create the perfect science-enhanced killer. Unfortunately, the city-state of Noxus regards such behavior as a sign of initiative and ambition, rather than inhumanity. Originally fighting for Zaun, Dr. Mundo was recruited to also fight for Noxus in the League of Legends; the Madman dual faction status represents the fruits of a blossoming relationship between Zaun and Noxus. He continues his experiments to this day, even using himself as an experimental subject, as evidenced by his disfigured appearance and his… unique manner of speaking. There are rumors that the High Command in Noxus has given him free reign to pursue his life’s work in his spare time.

Beware the Madman of Zaun. In his eyes, you are already dead.

Evelynn, The Widowmaker

Evelynn’s origins are shrouded in mystery – a mystery she herself helps to perpetuate. What everyone does know about Evelynn, however, is that she is one of the most skilled assassins in Valoran. It is clear upon first meeting her that she is not quite human. Some theorize that she was cursed with a mild form of fantastical vampirism as a child. Supporters of this theory contend that her ability to sap the very life essence of her opponents on (and off) the Fields of Justice, while still being able to tolerate direct sunlight, would account for this belief. There is some evidence that Evelynn originally came from the Shadow Isles – the mysterious island located northwest of Valoran that is eternally blanketed by a thick, unnatural fog. It is thought that the Shadow Isles are home to countless forms of undead, though no one seems eager to perform the exploration necessary to find out the truth. Evelynn neither confirms nor denies her connection to Shadow Isles.

The power brokers of Valoran know that Evelynn’s services come at the highest of premiums, and her recent addition to the League of Legends indicates that her ambitions are growing. Her savagery on the Fields of Justice has been so great that new rumors about her origins are now circulating. The most popular one – an abuse of magic as a child morphed her into the hungering beast her opponents see on the battlefield – always makes her smile when hearing it… an act that bares her razor-sharp fangs and teeth. Evelynn now curries favor from League summoners, gaining influence for reasons known only to her. While the nature of her plans- much like almost everything else about her – remains unknown, there’s little doubt that those plans are now set on the world stage.

”There is little mystery about her to me – she is the ultimate predator.” – Jax

Ezreal, The Prodigal Explorer

Ezreal was born with the gift of magic flowing through his veins. Ezreal, however, was also born with a much stronger sense of wanderlust. Put into school to become a skilled techmaturgist, Ezreal quickly became bored with magical studies. By the time the boy genius was eight years old, he had fully mapped out the underground tunnels of Piltover. The quality of his work was so great that the government of Piltover purchased his maps and salaried his services as Piltover’s Grandmaster Explorer. This sealed the deal on Ezreal’s path in life – he would eschew the arcane arts in favor of archaeology. Since then, countless of Ezreal’s adventures have been written about as romanticized stories.

One of Ezreal’s latest adventures, however, has brought him face-to-face with his other legacy – his latent magical power. While exploring the pyramids of Shurima Desert, Ezreal uncovered an amulet of incredible power. Aside from the sheer size of the amulet (it was made for a being easily twice Ezreal’s size), it allows the wielder to control and shape magical energy – provided a source of magic is in the vicinity. This allowed Ezreal to tap into his natural talent for magic without having to put any serious effort into it – a big win for the Prodigal Explorer. The drawback is that for some unknown reason, the amulet is attuned with summoning magic. Without warning, Ezreal may find himself acting as a champion for, as he puts it, ”a summoner hell-bent on resolving some irrelevant world-shattering League conflict.” Still, Ezreal feels being summoned into a Field of Justice on occasion is a small price to pay.

”There’s little time to study musty tomes when you’re busy crawling around where the musty tomes originally came from.” Such is Ezreal’s credo.

Fiddlesticks, The Harbinger of Doom

For nearly twenty years, Fiddlesticks has stood alone in the easternmost summoning chamber of the Institute of War. Only the burning emerald light of his unearthly gaze pierces the musty darkness of his dust-covered home. It is here that the Harbinger of Doom keeps a silent vigil. His is a cautionary tale of power run amok, taught to all summoners within the League. Decades ago, there existed a powerful rune mage from Zaun – Istvaan. At the end of the fifth Rune War, he became one of the League’s first summoners. Too much a prisoner to the old ways of magic, Istvaan stepped further and further outside the rules of conduct in the League. In what was ultimately his last match, his reach finally exceeded his grasp. Sealing himself inside the easternmost summoning chamber, he began incanting the most forbidden of rituals – an extra-planar summoning.

What exactly happened inside that chamber remains unknown. No champion came to represent Zaun that day in Summoner’s Rift. Only silence echoed back from repeated knocks on the chamber door. The first apprentice who entered was cut down immediately by an unearthly scythe. What few who followed and survived were driven mad by fear, mere husks of men gibbering about crows and death. Afraid of the evil even Istvaan could not control, the League sealed all exits to the chamber, hoping they could contain what they could not destroy. Years went by, but the wooden figure within never moved save to slay any foolish enough to enter. Seeing no recourse to reclaim the chamber, the Council instead devised a use for Fiddlesticks: executioner. While he comes to life and seemingly abides by the rules of summoning in the Fields of Justice, what he awaits inside his chamber is unknown. His unmoving face yields no clues, and his scythe stands ready to strike down any who stand before him.

Those who say ‘you have nothing to fear but fear itself’ have not yet felt the crows.

Galio, The Sentinel’s Sorrow

Long before the League’s regulation of such magic, mages experimented with the creation of artificial life. Now forbidden, instilling golems with reason was once not so uncommon a practice amongst the more expert of craftsmen. One such visionary was the Demacian artificer, Durand. Peerless at crafting sentient beings, Durand’s constructs served as tireless guardians for the border towns of his beloved city-state, affording them protection from their Noxian neighbors. For his own defense, however, Durand kept his magnum opus: Galio. This mighty construct – forged in the image of a gargoyle – kept him safe on his journeys, allowing him to perform his important work without fear of reprisal from those hostile to his homeland. That is, until dealing with his taxing sentinels finally roused the ire of the Noxian High Command.

As Durand crossed the Howling Marsh with his masterwork in tow, he was set upon by Noxian assassins in force. Outnumbered and overwhelmed, Galio looked on in horror as the murderers cut down his charge, executing him swiftly before vanishing back into the mists. Stripped of his reason for being, Galio despaired. For years he remained in solitude, standing vigil over the bones of the master he had failed to protect… a literal monument to his own everlasting shame. Then, one nondescript day, a sad but determined yordle girl carrying a mighty Demacian crown stopped in the shadow of a great statue to rest. Hidden in plain sight from his unsuspecting visitor, Galio studied the forlorn yordle. She looked as though she too shouldered a tremendous burden. As quietly and as stoically as she had arrived, she departed in the direction of Demacia. This encounter lit a spark in Galio’s eye. Remembering the cause that his master had died defending, Galio arose from his silent purgatory and followed in the wake of this brave creature. He had a new reason to live: to join the League of Legends and fight for the will of Demacia.

”There is no such thing as redemption. Only penance.” – Galio

Gangplank, The Saltwater Scourge

Gangplank was born the son of the dread pirate captain Vincent the Shadow – one of the most wealthy and feared pirates in all of Blue Flame Island. One might think this would have spoiled the boy with a cushioned life of privilege, but the truth is quite the opposite. Growing up in the city of Bilgewater isn’t easy; pirates are not known for their compassion, and that most certainly extends to their families. Vincent wanted his son to grow up tough and strong, so he was extremely hard on the young Gangplank. Even as a child, Gangplank was as mean as a snake and is said to have slept with his eyes open. As he grew, the young man rapidly became the most ruthless and feared pirate in all of Bilgewater, and his daddy was never more proud than on the day of his son’s eighteenth birthday – when Gangplank stabbed his old man in the back and claimed the famed pirate ship, the Dead Pool, for his own.

The continent of Valoran, however, is a dangerous place for pirates; Gangplank could read the writing on the wall. The den of pirates known as Bilgewater would soon be pulled down by the undertow of Valoranian politics and the Institute of War. It was time for Bilgewater to have their own champion to represent them in the League of Legends, and who better than the fiercest pirate of them all? It is said that Gangplank has enough power and favor to claim the title of the Pirate King back home, but that he is simply biding his time and building his reputation as a champion before he returns to a life of piracy.

Yo ho, blow the man down. Or at least shoot him when his back is turned and steal all his booty.

Garen, The Might of Demacia

Throughout Valoran, the resolve of Demacia’s military is alternately celebrated or despised, but always respected. Their ”zero tolerance” moral code is strictly upheld by civilians and soldiers alike. In combat, this means Demacian troops may not make excuses, flee, or surrender under any circumstance. These principles are espoused to their forces by unrivaled demagogues who lead by example. Garen, the valiant warrior who bears the title ”the Might of Demacia”, is the paradigm to which these leaders are compared. Thousands of great heroes have risen and fallen on the bloody battlefields between Demacia and its preeminent rival, Noxus. It was beneath their mighty banners of war that Garen first met steel with Katarina, the Sinister Blade. The infantrymen who beheld this event (and survived) commented that it seemed as though the two were locked in a mortal waltz against a symphony of clashing blades.

Garen, the pride of the Demacian military and leader of the Dauntless Vanguard, returned from this battle breathless for the first time in his career, though some speculate that this was due to reasons other than exhaustion. The plausibility of these rumors was bolstered when, in every instance thereafter, Garen seized the opportunity to encounter the Sinister Blade again. A paragon of Demacian ethic, Garen never entertained such allegations, for he knew others couldn’t understand. Even simply the pursuit of a worthy opponent on the battlefield is, to a true warrior, the reason to rise each morning. The promise of one, particularly so beautifully and diametrically opposed, is the validation of his existence.

”The most effective way to kill an opponent is to slice through the man next to him.” – Garen, on front line strategy

Gragas, The Rabble Rouser

The foothills of the Great Barrier are home to the hardiest people found anywhere on Valoran. Only those with great fortitude and endurance dwell in what is perhaps the most rugged and unforgiving environment anywhere on the face of Runeterra. It is here that the mighty Gragas keeps permanent residence, living south of Noxus. This behemoth of a man has long eschewed the rigors of civilization for what he calls his ”slice of paradise;” he has no neighbors to bother him and plenty of space to pursue his life’s ambition – brewing. Grogs, ales, meads, and wine – nothing is beyond his skill to brew. What makes Gragas a truly special brewmaster, however, is his proximity to a large and powerful nexus.

The magic of this nexus has seeped into his fermented creations, and Gragas has consumed enough of his own poison over the years to slake the thirst of an army. This arcane alcohol has caused Gragas to swell both in height and girth; he looms over the tallest of men and boasts nearly twice their width. To complement his immoderate size, Gragas has developed an ornery temper – one fueled by liquor and raw magic. His infrequent sojourns into Noxus for supplies always unfold the same way: Gragas enters a Noxian tavern, Gragas gets into several fights, Gragas lays out countless citizens, and finally Gragas flees for the foothills with Noxian constables in hot – though reluctant – pursuit. His misadventures have garnered him the attention of several summoners in the League of Legends, and he is now a willing champion in the arenas…doling out hard liquor and harder fists.

The Rabble Rouser leaves a path of drunken destruction in his wake, both in the Fields of Justice and off.

Graves, The Outlaw

Malcolm Graves was born in the back of a Bilgewater tavern and left there with a bottle of spiked milk. He survived a childhood in the pirate-run slums using every dirty trick in the book. Intent on building a new life for himself, he stowed away on the first ship to the mainland he could sneak aboard. However, the grim realities of the world forced him to eke out an unsavory living in the underground of various city-states, jumping the border whenever things got too hot. At a particularly high-stakes game of cards, he found himself seated opposite Twisted Fate. They both flipped four aces on the final hand. It was the first time either conman had met his equal. The two formed an alliance, swindling marks at the tables and scrapping back-to-back in the alleys afterward. Together, they ran the streets – stacking chips, decks, and charges.

Unfortunately Graves made the mistake of hustling a hefty sum from Dr. Aregor Priggs, a high-ranking Zaunite official and businessman. When Priggs discovered how he’d been played, he became obsessed with revenge. He learned about Twisted Fate’s all-consuming desire to control magic and he promptly offered him a trade: serve Graves up in exchange for enrollment in a procedure which would grant his wish. Twisted Fate took the deal – both he and Graves knew the stakes of their arrangement, but the offer was too good. Once acquired, Priggs had Graves taken to a special location built to hold men whose crimes – or more precisely their punishments – were meant to stay off the books. Graves endured years of captivity at the hands of Zaun’s most unscrupulous wardens before he managed to escape. One of his fellow detainees introduced him to an eccentric gunsmith who modified a shotgun exactly to his specifications. After he paid a visit to Priggs, Graves joined the League of Legends with two targets in his sights: Twisted Fate and payback.

”They got a saying in the locker: ain’t got nothin’ but time to plan.”
-Graves

Heimerdinger, The Revered Inventor

It is unusual to see yordles outside of Bandle City, but the lure of science was something Heimerdinger could not resist. By the time he’d completed his third doctorate, he had already become the greatest of all yordle scientists and there was little his home could still offer him. The great academies of Piltover far to the north called to him, daring him to make his mark in the City of Progress. Knowing he would never thrive away from his own kind, Heimerdinger gathered like-minded yordles to join him in his quest, thus forming the backbone of the now famous Yordle Academy of Science & Progress. Since then, he has become one of the most respected minds of the modern age and his academy is one of the leading institutions in all of Valoran.

Heimerdinger has pioneered many new scientific achievements, delving deeper and deeper into the field of techmaturgy, including the development of the now ubiquitous star-rods that light many of the streets of the city-states. However, there is something strange about the Revered Inventor. In his quest to expand knowledge, he underwent an experiment of his own design to allow him to use a greater portion of his brain simultaneously. It most certainly worked, but at an unusual cost – Heimerdinger’s brain increased in size. His head changed along with it and now the great scientist looks like a yordle with a giant brain-shaped head. Heimerdinger has turned his attentions to the current state of war on Valoran, however, and works to rectify what he considers is an unacceptable situation. Heimerdinger believes that science is the key to saving the world. Much more, he has rolled up his sleeves and is out to prove this as a member of the League of Legends – most definitely as the League’s smartest champion!

Science is on the march. Look out!

Irelia, The Will of the Blades

The Ionians have developed some of the most breathtaking and deadly martial arts on all of Runeterra – just one manifestation of their pursuit of enlightenment. The most remarkable blade style to emerge, however, was the unusual byproduct of foreign intervention. Master Lito was a swordsman whose teachings were sought by ruling classes from nearly every city-state. His art was a highly-guarded secret, but it was said that swords would breathe in his grasp. He withered unexpectedly from a mysterious disease which baffled the brightest of Runeterran physicians. When he died, he left behind Zelos and Irelia, his son and daughter, and a truly unique weapon. Zelos became a sergeant in the Ionian military and left to seek assistance from Demacia immediately prior to Noxus’ invasion of Ionia. Irelia, charged with the protection of their home until Zelos returned, was alone when the Noxian forces struck.

The Ionians fought admirably, but soon Ionian blood stained the land beneath the prints of foreign boots. At the Great Stand of the Placidium, Ionians prepared for surrender, but were inspired to maintain their resistance when the young Irelia lifted her father’s enormous blade and pledged to hold until her brother returned. In the chaos of the ensuing fight, Irelia was cursed with dark Noxian Necromancy. As her life ebbed, Soraka, the Starchild, made a final attempt to anchor her fading soul. Unwilling to relinquish her home, Irelia rose at the brink of death, and her father’s sword lifted in the air alongside her. Irelia rushed back to the fore, unfazed by the blade’s sudden animation. The weapon danced around her effortlessly, cutting down Noxians as they gaped in horror. The decimated invaders were forced to retreat from the Placidium. Irelia was appointed Ionia’s Captain of the Guard, and when the defense of her homeland moved to the Fields of Justice, so did she.

‘The sword flourishes, as though painting with blood.’
– Taken from a Noxian Field Report

Janna, The Storm’s Fury

There are those sorcerers who give themselves over to the primal powers of nature, forgoing the learned practice of magic. Such a sorceress is Janna, who first learned magic as an orphan growing up admist the chaos that is the city-state of Zaun. Janna eked out what living she could on the streets. Life was tough and dangerous for the beautiful young girl, and she survived by her wits, and by stealing when wits weren’t enough. The rampant magic that characterizes Zaun was the first and most alluring tool which Janna realized could both protect and elevate her. Janna discovered that she had an affinity for a particular type of magic – the elemental magic of air. She mastered her studies of air magic in a matter of months, almost as if she was born of it. Janna went from a street vagrant to an avatar of the air virtually overnight, stunning and surpassing those who taught her. Such a rapid ascension also changed her physical appearance, giving her an otherworldly look.

Seeking to right the injustice in the world (particularly the insanity that has become the city of Zaun), Janna has brought her talents to the League. She is a voice for the regulation of magical experimentation and a supporter of the development of techmaturgy, making her an indirect ally of the city-state of Piltover and the amazing techmaturgical minds that live there. Janna is also a new favorite of the League’s many fans. She is often the center of attention at functions, fan appreciation days, and other celebratory events. There is something untouchable about Janna, however, and her affections can change as quickly as the wind.

Do not be captivated by Janna’s beauty. Like the wind, she is one gust away from terrible destruction.

Jarvan IV, The Exemplar of Demacia

As the royal family of Demacia for centuries, members of the Lightshield line have spent their lives waging war against any who opposed Demacian ethics. It is said that every Lightshield is born with anti-Noxian sentiment in his blood. Jarvan IV is no exception, even though he is the first Lightshield born to the age of the League of Legends. As his forefathers had before him, he led Demacian troops into bloody engagements with Noxian forces, and on many occasions he has bled alongside wounded allies and fallen comrades. In his most crushing defeat, he was outmaneuvered and captured by a Noxian battalion under the command of Jericho Swain. This mistake nearly cost him his life at the hands of Urgot, but he was rescued by the Dauntless Vanguard, an elite Demacian strike force led by Jarvan’s childhood companion, Garen.

Those close to him believed that his capture changed him. Xin Zhao was quoted as saying: ”His eyes never seemed to look at you, only through you to something he could not look away from.” One day, without warning, Jarvan IV handpicked a squad of Demacian soldiers and left Demacia, vowing to find ”atonement”. He began by tracking and hunting the most dangerous beasts and bandits he could find in northern Valoran, but he soon tired of such prey. Seeking something that only he understood, he ventured south of the Great Barrier. He wasn’t heard from again for nearly two years. After many had assumed the worst, he returned to glorious fanfare on the streets of Demacia. His Demacian plates were adorned with the bones and scales of creatures unknown. His eyes bore the wisdom of someone twice his age. Of the twelve soldiers who had departed with him, only two returned. In a tone as cold and steady as steel, he swore to bring the enemies of Demacia to their knees.

”There is only one truth, and you will find it at the point of my lance.”
– the ”last words” of Jarvan IV at his failed execution

Jax, Grandmaster at Arms

It is seldom the case where a champion is defined by his actions after joining the League of Legends rather than before. Such is the case with Jax, for whom the argument could be made that he is the most prolific tournament fighter currently at the Institute of War. Before joining the League, Jax was an unremarkable soldier-for-hire. For reasons known only to the former leader of the League, High Councilor Reginald Ashram, Jax was put on the top of the list of candidates to receive a League Judgment – the interview process that either accepts or rejects a prospective champion. His Judgment was the quickest in League history, where the Doors of Acceptance glowed and slowly swung open as soon as it began. Jax faced no recorded Observation or Reflection during his Judgment.

Jax proved himself to be an immediate terror in the Fields of Justice. The self-proclaimed ”Armsmaster of the League” rattled off a streak of consecutive wins that to this day has not been matched. A number of summoners in the League grew concerned that the perceived objectivity of the League of Legends would be questioned by the presence of an unknown fighter who was unbeatable. For this reason, the new leader of the League (following Reginald Ashram’s disappearance), High Councilor Heyward Relivash, created special restrictions for Jax to fight under. This was something the League had never done before, and something that has never been done since. The burly fighter responded by imposing his own special conditions; as a means of protest, he permitted himself to fight using only a brass lamppost. Neither the League’s sanctions nor his own has affected his winning ways. The League has since rescinded its sanctions, but Jax has not; he fights and fights well with his trusty brass lamppost.

”Be advised – there has been an outbreak of lamppost-shaped bruises in the League of Legends.” – Gragas

Karma, The Enlightened One

Even in her youth, Karma exhibited almost superhuman composure. While her peers explored the torrent of emotions that came with adolescence, Karma meditated in the Lotus Gardens. She was convinced that the true path to enlightenment was a journey inward, to a place within the self, overlooked by most. She exuded such inner contentment that she quickly became a go-to mediator and confidante in her village. Her instructors used to say: ”That girl can not only weather a storm, but calm it.” Karma did not live extravagantly; her parents owned a local business selling antiques in the Navori province and they often struggled to provide for themselves, though they did so with cheery optimism. Her most prized possessions were two exquisite fans taken from her family’s shop.

When Noxian troops invaded southern Ionia, her village was one of the first to fall. The villages who survived the assault were captured by Noxian forces. It was then that Karma found her calling. By exploiting the insecurities of the Noxian commander, she negotiated the safe release of the villages to the northern lands. She was present at the Placidium, where the Elders had considered surrender until Irelia’s impassioned last stand renewed the Ionian’s hope. Karma used this hope to solidify the Elders’ commitment to remain defiant against the Noxian onslaught. For her devotion and charisma, Karma was made the figurehead of the Ionian resistance. She never compromised, and she shared every hardship with her people, even when it came to combat. By tapping into her inner resilience, she discovered that she could bring great force to bear against her foes on the battlefield. She modified her fans into lethal implements, and was tutored by Janna to enhance their effects. The Noxians called her, ”The Enlightened One,” a nickname she embraced, and one which they would come to dread. She joined the League to represent Ionia in the ultimate political arena.

”Her fan technique is a deadly art of grace and poise, but her truest strength lies in the hearts of those willing to die alongside her.”
-Irelia

Karthus, The Deathsinger

The vast quantities of physical magic that were consumed and destroyed during Valoran’s numerous Rune Wars have scarred much of Valoran. Many locations far from civilization have been morphed into hazardous and dangerous locales. The Howling Marsh is one of these places, and the self-appointed overlord of this land is the lich known as Karthus. It is thought that Karthus was a mage who, in life, was foolish enough to enter the fetid waters seeking his fortune, and that he was forever transformed by whatever dark magic permeates the swamp. Karthus now rules over his swampy dominion with an iron (albeit skeletal) fist. Visitors are not welcome, and those who are not scared away by the lich’s terrible power most likely end up as one of the undead themselves… skeletons and zombies in Karthus’ growing army of eternal servants. On the darkest of nights, Karthus is said to sing the tales of those who have succumbed to the swamp, past and present.

Karthus’ tenure in the League of Legends is one of the more unusual ones in the history of the League. First, it is highly unusual that a lich who was known for isolation and hatred of life would even be a willing part of an organization which promoted the preservation of life. Next, Karthus specifically eschews the accrual of power and influence gained through service to the League; he is essentially an unpaid volunteer. This behavior is completely different than what his life outside of the League would have onlookers believe. Karthus has never spoken about his intentions in being a champion of the League, and in fact becomes quite agitated when asked about it. In the interests of not aggravating a lich, most sensible people subsequently drop the issue.

”Come visit my home, and I shall sing a dirge of your life as it once was.”

Kassadin, The Void Walker

There is a place between dimensions and between worlds. To some it is known as the Outside, to others it is the Unknown. To most, however, it is called the Void. Despite its name, the Void is not an empty place, but rather the home of unspeakable things, horrors not meant for minds of men. Though such knowledge is lost in modern times, there are those who have unwittingly discovered what lies beyond, and they have been unable to turn away. Kassadin is such a creature. He was once a man forced to look upon the face of the Void and forever changed by what he saw. Once a seeker of forbidden knowledge, he discovered that what he sought was something else entirely. He is one of the few that has found his way to forgotten Icathia and lived to tell the tale, following the scant breadcrumbs hidden in ancient texts.Within a decaying cyclopean city, Kassadin found secrets of the kind that he will never share – secrets that made him quake with fear at the visions of things to come that were thrust upon him. The power of the place threatened to consume him forever, but Kassadin took the only route available to him in order to survive – he let the Void inside him. Miraculously, he was able to overcome the alien urges that went with it, and he emerged as something more than human. Though a part of him died that day, he knows that he must protect Valoran from the things scratching at the door, waiting to get in and visit their torments upon the world. They are only one step away… something to which the appearance of the abomination known as Cho’Gath attests.

If you look upon the Void, you can’t put it behind you. If you look upon Kassadin, he is probably already there.

Katarina, The Sinister Blade

As a militaristic state, it would perhaps come as no surprise that the primary responsibilities of Noxian women are raising strong children and providing succor for husbands who walk the path of soldiery. There are some, however, for whom nurture is not nature, and Katarina is just such a creature. Born the daughter of the feared Noxian General Du Couteau, the girl was always more interested in her father’s knives than in the dresses, jewelry, and other trifles that her sisters spent so much time fussing over. A childhood dispute soon unveiled her uncanny knack for bloodshed, and her father, ever the opportunist, happily fostered her killer instincts. After training under the tutelage of the finest assassins the mighty city-state had to offer, Katarina first cut her teeth performing assassinations in the Ionian War. There, her ruthless mastery of the knife and dagger combined with her sadistic temperament to earn her the title Sinister Blade, a moniker that would follow her for the remainder of her career. She is most famous, however, for her exploits in the campaigns against Demacia, especially those surrounding her engagements with the nation’s champion, Garen; a rivalry that began when she recovered the remains of Sion from a vanguard under his protection.

With the demand for warfare somewhat arrested by the tenuous peace settling over Valoran, Katarina sought the allure of violence in its last remaining haven: The League of Legends. Some might say it was an inevitability that Katarina’s chosen path would draw her to become a champion of the League, continuing to enforce the will of Noxus and bring prestige of war to her noble family. There, she continues to perform her bloody work – esteemed and reviled, feared and adored.

”The Sinister Blade of Noxus is like a black widow – beautiful, but deadly.” – Garen, the Might of Demacia, following a skirmish in the field

Kayle, The Judicator

In a world far away where an ancient war still rages, Kayle was a great hero – the strongest of an immortal race committed to destroying evil wherever it could be found. For ten thousand years, Kayle fought tirelessly for her people, wielding her flaming sword forged before time itself. She shielded her delicate features beneath her enchanted armor, the sole remaining masterpiece of an extinct race of craftsmen. Though a beautiful, striking creature, Kayle, now as then, avoids showing her face; war has taken a terrible toll upon her spirit. In her quest for victory, she sometimes would try to lift the wicked up from their morass of evil, but more than often she instead purged those she herself deemed beyond redemption. To Kayle, justice can so often be an ugly thing.

Ten years ago, Kayle’s war against evil was nearly won… until her rebellious sister Morgana, a pariah amongst their people, suddenly gained powerful new allies: magicians of a hitherto unknown world called Runeterra. Morgana traded servitude to a number of the summoners in Runeterra’s League of Legends for powerful new abilities that, if mastered, threatened to bring Kayle and her people to their knees. To save her world, Kayle had no choice but to make a pact with the League herself. She approached the leader of the League, High Counselor Reginald Ashram, with a deal of her own. In exchange for a thousand years of Kayle’s service, Ashram halted all League interference on Kayle’s world. With Ashram’s disappearance five years ago, Kayle has new causes on Valoran: find out who or what caused Ashram to disappear, defeat her sister Morgana upon the Fields of Justice, and bring her own brand of justice to the League of Legends.

”In the League of Legends, Justice comes on swift wings.”

Kennen, The Heart of the Tempest

There exists an ancient order originating in the Ionian Isles dedicated to the preservation of balance. Order, chaos, light, darkness — all things must exist in perfect harmony for such is the way of the universe. This order is known as the Kinkou and it employs a triumvirate of shadow warriors to uphold its causes in the world. Kennen is one of these shadow warriors, entrusted with the sacred duty of Coursing the Sun – tirelessly conveying the justice of the Kinkou.

Kennen was born in Bandle City and it was said that in his first living moments he bolted first from the womb and second from the midwife who delivered him. His parents had thought that he would outgrow his boundless energy, but as he matured his energy found no limits and was matched only by his unnerving speed. Despite his astonishing gifts, he remained unnoticed (or at least uncaught, as he was quite the prankster) until, on a dare, he ran straight up the great outer wall of the Placidium. When word of this feat reached Kinkou ears, Kennen was quickly and quietly brought in for an audience. He found that the role of the Heart of the Tempest suited him, frenetically delivering both the word and the punishments of the Kinkou across the realm. He now works with his fellows Akali and Shen to enforce the balance of Valoran. This hallowed pursuit has unsurprisingly led the triumvirate to the Fields of Justice.

”The Heart of the Tempest beats eternal…and those beaten remember eternally.”

Kog’Maw, The Mouth of the Abyss

When the prophet Malzahar was reborn in Icathia, he was led there by an ominous voice which thereafter anchored itself to his psyche. From within, this voice bestowed upon him terrible purpose, and though Malzahar was no longer tormented by its call, the voice did not cease its unrelenting summons. This baleful beacon’s gentle flicker — now fastened to Runeterra — drew forth a putrid beast that ambled across a threshold it did not understand, widening a fissure between the spaces which were never meant to meet. There amongst the haunting ruins of Icathia, Kog’Maw manifested in Valoran with unsettling curiosity. The spark which led him to Runeterra teased him still, urging him gently towards Malzahar. It also encouraged him to familiarize himself with his new environment, to the stark horror of everything he encountered on his journey.

The enchanting colors and aromas of Runeterra intoxicated Kog’Maw, and he explored the fruits of the strange world the only way he knew how: by devouring them. At first he sampled only the wild flora and fauna he happened across. As he traversed the parched Tempest Flats, however, he came upon a tribe of nomads. Seemingly unhampered by conventional rules of physics, Kog’Maw consumed every nomad and any obstacles they put in his way, amounting to many times his own mass and volume. The most composed of his victims may have had time to wonder if this was due to the caustic enzymes which stung the ground as they dripped from his gaping mouth, although such musings were abruptly concluded. When his wake of catastrophe reached the Institute of War, an enthusiastic Malzahar greeted him with an enticing prospect: taste the best Runeterra could offer…on the Fields of Justice.

‘If that’s just hungry, I don’t want to see angry.’ –Tryndamere, the Barbarian King

LeBlanc, The Deceiver

Every city has its dark side, even one whose reputation is already of a questionable hue. Noxus – though its name is already invoked with a mixture of reverence and revulsion – is no exception to this simple truth. Deep within the winding dungeons that honeycomb the earth beneath its dark, meandering streets lies the real underbelly of this sprawling metropolis, a haven for all manner of malevolence. Amongst the cults, covens, and secret societies that call this labyrinth their home, LeBlanc, the Deceiver, presides over the Black Rose, a remnant from a lost, yet similarly unscrupulous time in Noxian history. Ruthless and seemingly ageless, LeBlanc and her ilk were a mainstay in Noxian political affairs during the era before the militarization of the Noxian government. In those days, this guild of powerful magicians met in secret to further their hidden agenda, and to hone a craft more subtle than that preferred by those currently in power.

While their exact motives have always remained mysterious, it was widely believed that the Black Rose was the true power behind the throne while the aristocracy still reigned in Noxus. When raw martial prowess became the ultimate determination of whose will held sway in the Empire, the Black Rose seemed to vanish overnight. Many believed that perhaps their time had simply passed, and that its members had put aside their quests for social and political dominance. When LeBlanc reemerged at the gates of the Institute of War, however, it became clear that these masters of shadow and flame had simply been bidding their time, waiting for a new global authority to emerge: the League of Legends.

”The world is very different for those who cannot see beyond what is placed before their very eyes.” -LeBlanc, the Deceiver

Lee Sin, The Blind Monk

As a young teen, Lee Sin was intent on becoming a summoner. His will and dedication were unmatched by any of his peers, and his skill drew the attention of Reginald Ashram, the League’s High Councilor at the time. While studying at the Arcanum Majoris, Lee Sin became frustrated with instruction paced for the other students. He spent his free time researching the nuances of summoning in hopes of graduating sooner. He made amazing advances in his arcane studies, surpassing all other students. By all indications, he would have become one of the League’s greatest summoners were it not for one terrible mistake. Too impatient, he attempted to test his ability by summoning a beast from the Plague Jungles. What he summoned instead was a young boy, but not in one piece. He barely had time to look the boy in what was once his face before the jumbled human mass fell lifeless to the floor. A League investigation later revealed that the boy’s entire village was obliterated by feedback from the ritual.

Lee Sin’s talents were so promising that the League was willing to overlook the incident, but he could never forgive himself. He left the Institute and journeyed to the Shojin Monastery for eternal repentance, swearing never to practice magic again. Years later, hoping to atone for his crime with martyrdom, he set himself ablaze as a protest of the Noxian occupation of Ionia. He remained alive in this state, enduring searing agony for weeks. His actions paved the way for a League match wherein Ionia prevailed, but by the time he was doused, his eyes had been burned completely from their sockets. Hailed as a savior, he was reborn, and his will to act invigorated. He joined the League of Legends to continue his atonement with sweat and blood, a true monk’s only possessions.

”The actions of one may sunder the world, but the efforts of many may rebuild it.” – Lee Sin

Leona, The Radiant Dawn

On the upper slopes of Mount Targon, the warriors of Rakkor live and breathe only for war. However, Targon’s peak is reserved for a special group of Rakkoran who answer to a ”higher” calling. Members of this group, called the Solari, retire their mantles of war, choosing instead to devote their lives to reverence of the sun. According to legend, the Solari were formed by a warrior who could call the raw might of the sun down upon his enemies in combat. He claimed Mount Targon’s summit, the point on Valoran closest to the sun, for his solar devotion, a tradition which generations of Solari have preserved to this day. Though they maintain their reverence, no other warrior possessed the gifts of the founder — until Leona.

Leona’s parents were traditional Rakkorans, both bred for the heat of battle. To them, Leona was a problem child. She was capable of fighting as fiercely as any other — including her childhood friend, Pantheon — but she did not share their zeal for killing. She believed that the true worth of a soldier lay in her ability to defend and protect. When it came time for her Rite of Kor, a ceremony in which two Rakkoran teens battle to the death for the right to bear a relic-weapon, Leona refused to fight. For this, the Rakkoran leaders ordered her execution, but when they tried to strike the fatal blow, sunlight burst forth, bathing Mount Targon in light. As it faded, Leona stood unharmed and her executioners lay unconscious around her. The Solari immediately claimed Leona, demanding that her sentence be repealed. She donned the golden armor of the Solari and they bestowed upon her the sword and shield passed down from the ancient sun-warrior of legend. The Solari helped Leona focus her abilities, and when she was ready she left to join the League of Legends.

”The sun’s rays reach all of Runeterra, so too must the image of its champion.”
-Leona

Lux, The Lady of Luminosity

Born to the prestigious Crownguards, the paragon family of Demacian service, Luxanna was destined for greatness. She grew up as the family’s only daughter, and she immediately took to the advanced education and lavish parties required of families as high profile as the Crownguards. As Lux matured, it became clear that she was extraordinarily gifted. She could play tricks that made people believe they had seen things that did not actually exist. She could also hide in plain sight. Somehow, she was able to reverse engineer arcane magical spells after seeing them cast only once. She was hailed as a prodigy, drawing the affections of the Demacian government, military, and citizens alike.

As one of the youngest women to be tested by the College of Magic, she was discovered to possess a unique command over the powers of light. The young Lux viewed this as a great gift, something for her to embrace and use in the name of good. Realizing her unique skills, the Demacian military recruited and trained her in covert operations. She quickly became renowned for her daring achievements; the most dangerous of which found her deep in the chambers of the Noxian High Command. She extracted valuable inside information about the Noxus-Ionian conflict, earning her great favor with Demacians and Ionians alike. However, reconnaissance and surveillance was not for her. A light of her people, Lux’s true calling was the League of Legends, where she could follow in her brother’s footsteps and unleash her gifts as an inspiration for all of Demacia.

”Her guiding light makes enemies wary, but they should worry most when the light fades.”
— Garen, The Might of Demacia

Malphite, Shard of the Monolith

There is a world of perfect harmony, where all are part of the whole. The Monolith is the essence of all creation, and its denizens are but singular pieces of it. It is beautiful in its symmetry, and in its almost complete lack of uncertainty. The rocky beings that live there know their place and work to fulfill their duties to the fullest extent, functioning almost as a superorganism or hive. Malphite has always strived to live up to his full potential, as his own personal part of the whole, serving the role of a distinguished creature questing to enforce his people’s flawless vision of order.

One day, without warning, a dimensional rift opened, and he was summoned across the cosmos to the world of Runeterra. The transition was painful and terrifying for him, as he was cut off from the song of his people and the Monolith – things that had been ever-present in him since the day he was born. He raged, trapped in the Summoning Circle, as those who had called him made their plea. Runeterra was a world that had nearly been consumed by its disharmony. It was a world that needed champions to bring order out of chaos. It was to that end that the rock-creature was summoned, so that he could aid them in this quest. Looking past his own fear and apprehension, Malphite could see that this was a respectable goal, and one in which he could participate – perhaps uniquely so. Today, as part of the League of Legends, he hammers those who would seek to upset Valoran’s movement toward order, especially turning his attention to those that wield chaotic magic. Unfortunately, Malphite has also begun to change, as he has been forced to face his own profound loneliness among the world’s vibrant individuality.

Beware, minions of chaos! The Shard of the Monolith has come.

Malzahar, The Prophet of the Void

Many men have gone mad beneath the glare of the Shurima sun, but it was during the night’s chilling embrace that Malzahar relinquished his sanity. Malzahar was born a seer, blessed with the gift of prophecy. His talent, though unrefined, promised to be one of Runeterra’s greatest boons, but destiny plotted him another course; his sensitivity to the roiling tides of fate allowed other, unwelcome things to tug at his subconscious mind. In his dreams, where the veil of separation is thinnest, a sinister thing beckoned. For some time, Malzahar was able to resist its prodding solicitation, but with each passing night the voice grew louder, or perhaps deeper, until he could withstand the call no more.

He ventured into the desert without supplies, drawn by the lure of a specious charm. His destination: a lost civilization to the east, known to ancient texts as Icathia. Few believed such a place ever existed, and those who did were certain that the sands had long since devoured whatever remained. When Malzahar’s cracked feet finally failed him, he found himself kneeling at the base of a bizarre crumbling obelisk. Beyond it lay the alien geometry of a ruined city and the giant decaying idols of dark and horrific gods. His eyes, seeing what others cannot, and what none should, were filled with the essence of the Void. His once shifting visions of the future were replaced with the immutable promise of Valoran beset by creatures of the Void. Standing alone, but not alone, amidst the echoing dunes, he noticed the familiar voice escape his own lips in a parched rasp, bearing three words whose weight trembled his knees. League of Legends. Now infused with the power of the void itself, Malzahar set off to the north to seek his fate.

”The land may melt, the sea may swell, the sky may fall… but They will come.” – Malzahar

Maokai, The Twisted Treant

The twisting magical energies unleashed by mages during the Rune Wars caused an incredible amount of devastation to the natural world. The League was established to control the use of this magic by confining it to the Fields of Justice. By limiting its use to there, they thought that they could prevent it from doing further harm to the environment. It seemed that they were successful until Maokai came into being. During a League match on The Twisted Treeline, Maokai, an ancient oak that stood above the upper jungle, spontaneously roared to life. Ripped from the natural balance by arcane forces, his sentience was forged in chaos. Before the Adjudicators of the League could step in and suppress him, he slew all six champions participating in the match. The scholars of the Arcanum Majoris took a keen interest in him, as they were eager to discover the secrets of his animation.

Maokai was furious, however. He abhorred the existence was that thrust upon him; he felt it was a corruption of nature. He learned to communicate with people in hopes of finding a way to be returned to his former, true state. Seizing the opportunity, the League offered a trade. They would research a way to revert him so long as he agreed to fight in the League of Legends. Maokai was indifferent to verdicts rendered by the League, but he was eager to punish summoners for their wanton use of magic. He agreed to the terms under one condition: once they learned how to turn him back, they would never animate another tree again. He wears a lantern on the Fields of Justice to set him apart from the other trees, and as a warning to the animals that would do him harm.

”I will use this power until I am free of it.”
– Maokai

Master Yi, The Wuju Bladesman

Keeper of the ancient art of Wuju, Master Yi is a mystical warrior from the isle of Ionia. He descended from one of the few tribes dedicated to the preservation of Wuju, a martial art founded with the principles of absolute spiritual awareness of one’s self and one’s enemy. When the armies of Noxus invaded Ionia, Master Yi joined in the Ionian defense to fight the craven enemy, bringing his village honor through his unparalleled mastery of the blade. The ensuing battles ravaged the land, but no conflict inflicted as much horror as the day the armies of Noxus closed in on Yi’s village. Left undefended, the village became the unfortunate test subject of the latest invention by an up-and-coming chemist, now known as Singed. The remains of the village that Master Yi returned to were so horrific that it remains a festering scar on Ionian history. To this day, no Ionian will ever publicly speak of what occurred.

After the Noxian invasion was contained, Master Yi fell into a deep isolation. For years, he trained morning to night, speaking to no one and refusing offers of consolation by fellow Ionians. The only thing stopping him from madly charging into Noxus battle lines headfirst was his pledge to keep the Wuju style alive. Even though he seethed with impatience, his rage became a tool for sharpening his practice of Wuju, developing stronger and deadlier skills for his eventual vengeance. The only thing that roused him was news of the League’s formation, and Noxus’ subsequent enrollment in the League. Master Yi now brings his mastery of the blade to the League of Legends with unflinching purpose: to avenge his kinfolk and end the predations of the Noxus once and for all.

”The art of Wuju lives on in Master Yi, and is plunged through the hearts of his foes.” — Soraka, the Starchild

Miss Fortune, The Bounty Hunter

For those who brave the harsh seas of Runeterra, attaining one’s own ship and crew is the pinnacle of success. Sarah Fortune, a well-respected (some would say legendary) bounty hunter from Bilgewater, was able to achieve this feat just after her sixteenth birthday, etching out her name as the go-to gal for resolving special troubles. No bounty was too difficult or too dangerous for her feminine charm and her renowned use of her twin pistols, ”Shock and Awe”. Her success gave her the means to legitimately purchase her own ship… with a little flirtatious haggling, of course. Things weren’t always so fortunate for Miss Fortune, though. When she was young, trade ships began to dot the horizon of her quiet home in the northern shores of Blue Flame Island’s largest chunk. Trade routes brought piracy, and the inhabitants soon found themselves caught in a frenzy of pillage.

One day, young Sarah returned home to hear gunshots and screaming. Her front door was smashed open; inside, she saw her mother lying in a pool of blood. A sudden blow to her head made her collapse next to her slain mother. The last thing she could remember were her attacker’s red eyes, as his face was blocked by a rogue’s bandana. Miss Fortune has a strong distrust for pirates and she finds herself constantly bickering with the infamous Gangplank (the only captain to resist her charms) over the direction of Bilgewater politics. Her two goals: to unite the people of Bilgewater, making them into a strong and independent society, and to find the pirate who killed her mother. To that end, she has entered the League of Legends as a champion, trading her skills for the wealth and influence that will help her accomplish both.

Mordekaiser, The Master of Metal

During the most recent winter solstice – when no other night during the year is longer – a being like no other emerged from the forgotten alleyways of Noxus. Standing eight feet tall, and concealed within a razor-sharp armored shell, he came to be known only as Mordekaiser. The nature of what lies beneath his metallic carapace is a popular subject of speculation. Many allege that he is a mortal man with a heart that has hardened to iron. Others insist that he is a dark specimen of the undead. But there are some who whisper warnings that he is merely a foreshadowing of something terrible and unprecedented yet to come. Despite the public conjecture and curiosity, none have discovered what lies beneath his alloyed exterior. What is known is this: Mordekaiser arrived unannounced at the Institute one day and, with a rasp that crept ice up the spines of all within earshot, requested to join the League of Legends.

Upon glimpsing his fearful visage, most keep their distance, fortunately unaware that his touch bears a sinister scourge. Those who stumble within his grasp fall victim to incurable maladies. In fact, Mordekaiser seems mystically attuned to sickness, as if it feeds and comprises part of his chilling essence. He now stalks the slums of Noxus, drawn to the plague-ridden and diseased. However, there is something in his clever tactics, something in his noble stance, and something in the tone of his unearthly commands that has led many to believe that Mordekaiser is more than just a foot soldier. Some see the distinguishing characteristics of a general. While many have learned to accept the evidence of this unsettling possibility, a lingering questions keeps them wary at the witching hour: if Mordekaiser is a general, what nightmarish legion lurks at his command?

”The common perception is that the encompassing armor protects him, I fear that – for the fragile time being – it actually protects us.” – Rozuel Fecirem, Arch Adjudicator, noted in Mordekaiser’s eligibility evaluation

Morgana, Fallen Angel

There is a world far away populated by graceful and beautiful winged beings gifted with immortality, where an ancient conflict still rages. Like so many conflicts, this war split families. One side proclaimed themselves as beings of perfect order and justice, fighting to unite the world under their law and strong central governance. Those that fought against them saw their kin as tyrants, creatures incapable of seeing the larger view, who would sacrifice individuality and freedom for the illusion of efficiency and safety. Morgana was one who fought against what she perceived as the tyranny of her kind, and for that she was branded ”fallen.” Morgana was not innocent, having plumbed forgotten ways to gather forbidden might to become a powerful mistress of the black arts. This goal was driven by her obsession to defeat the general of the opposition’s army – her sister, Kayle.

While the two were in fact birth-sisters, Kayle struck the first blow by disowning any filial connection when Morgana refused to join her cause. Eventually, Morgana grew in power enough to not only reach, but challenge Kayle. As the time approached when the two would meet in what could be their final conflict, Morgana was suddenly summoned to Valoran. At first, Morgana made a deal with the League’s summoners to fight in exchange for greater power. With the advent of Kayle into the League, Morgana now willingly fights in the League of Legends for the privilege of being able to destroy her sister again, and again, and again. She lies in wait for the day the bonds of the Institute of War no longer hold her, and on that day she plans to destroy Kayle once and for all and return home a hero.

”There is no rest while Kayle’s brand of tyranny still exists.”
-Morgana

Nasus, The Curator of the Sands

The enigmatic creature known as Nasus came to the League from a faraway world, and served as part of a vast and learned desert empire. There he was a respected and enlightened individual, having been made the Keeper of the Great Library. However, he was also part of a race of animalistic creatures that served as the rulers and protectors of the people. Unfortunately, there were others of his kind that believed they were more than protectors. They were under the egotistical delusion that they had ascended to become gods. War on Nasus’s world was never more than a breath away, as these deluded others sought to enslave the people and establish a totalitarian sovereignty. In the midst of a heated battle, just as Nasus was about to slay his treacherous brother Renekton, he was pulled through the cosmos to a summoning circle in Runeterra.

At first angered that he had been taken just as he was about to cripple the enemies of his people, Nasus’ advanced intellect won out when he heard the pleas of mercy from the summoners. He learned that Runeterra was also filled with its own brand of injustice. This danger was no less threatening than what he had fought against at home, and champions were needed to protect the people of this world. Heeding the call, Nasus chose to take his place in the League of Legends, knowing that his brothers and sisters would carry on the fight back home. These days, he is the Curator of the Sands, feeling most at home in the crumbling ruins of the Shurima Desert. However, recent disturbing news has reached the Keeper’s ears – rumors that perhaps his brother had not in fact been left behind. If this were the case, the destruction of Renekton would quickly become Nasus’ main priority, before this world too faces the threads of his brother’s forked-tongue and endless ambition.

The Curator of the Sands, though contemplative, is not to be trifled with.

Nidalee, The Bestial Huntress

There are few dwellers, let alone champions, residing in the blasted and dangerous lands that lie south of the Great Barrier. Much of that world still bears the scars of past Runes Wars, especially the mysterious Kumungu Jungle. There are long-forgotten treasures in these strange places which many risk life and limb to acquire. The champion known as Nidalee was only a young girl travelling with her treasure-seeking parents when they lost their way in the dense, rainy jungles. The jungle was unforgiving, and she watched her parents suffer agonizing final days as they fell victim to a mysterious and vicious disease.

As improbable as it was for a child to survive in the inhospitable jungle by herself, she did just that. Her youthful innocence and a fortunate naivete caused her to appeal to the beasts of that place and she was taken in by a family of cougars and raised as one of their own. She grew and somehow absorbed the raw magic of the dense wilds, evolving beyond both her human physiology and her feline affectation. On one pivotal day in her life, standing over the torn remnants of a Noxian squad of woodcutters, Nidalee chose to rejoin the so-called civilized world, to fight in the League of Legends so as to protect the vast woods from both Demacia and Noxus.

Nidalee was taught to fight by her feline family, battling viciously with tooth and nail. Something in her feline ways may draw you to her, but remember that she is no pussycat.

Nocturne, The Eternal Nightmare

Before Nocturne, people believed that dreams were figments of their imagination, meaningless images that flashed through the mind when one slept. This belief was put to the test when a rash of sleep-related incidents started afflicting summoners of the League. Some would wake up screaming, terrified and beyond consolation. Some could not fall asleep, slowly going mad as the nights ticked by. Some simply never woke up. Physicians were baffled until a Field Architect happened to pass out next to a nexus on Twisted Treeline. Witnesses said he cried out once and then stopped breathing. Immediately after, magical energy arced out from the nexus, and Nocturne appeared.

Nocturne did not take his introduction to this world kindly. He slaughtered everything he could find before summoners were able to magically confine him. After a period of intense study, League experts divined that Nocturne hunted summoners in their sleep, attacking them in a place where their magic was useless. This seemed to be his only purpose. The families of the victims demanded justice, but League officials were concerned that death might only return Nocturne to the place from which he came. They bound him to a nexus fragment, trapping him in the physical world. As punishment for his crimes, they allowed summoners to call upon Nocturne in the League matches, bending his will to the summoners he hates and creating his own personal nightmare. League scholars don’t know whether he truly came from the plane of dreams, or whether there are any more like him. Some theorize that the summoning act affected summoners’ subconscious minds, luring Nocturne to them in their sleep. Perhaps the most disturbing theory is that Nocturne is a person’s nightmare come to life. If this is true, they wonder, who is the dreamer?

”The darkness is closing in…it’s pitch black now…but I can still see him…”
– Kelvin Ma, patient #4236

Nunu, The Yeti Rider

Freljord is an unforgiving land covered in snow and ice. Travel, especially in the winter, can be very dangerous. The elements often claim even those who have spent their entire lives there. The boy known as Nunu is defined by such tragedy. One day when he was a young child, Nunu rode on his father’s back as they returned from a trapping expedition in the mountains. An unexpected blizzard came upon them, forcing them to seek refuge in a cave. The tempest was the worst in countless years, and it lasted for days. Nunu’s father left to find food, but he never returned.

The blizzard eventually cleared, and the young child lay dying on the mountainside. Fortunately for Nunu, this was the land of the yetis, who are powerful beasts with whom Nunu’s father had secured and arrangement for safe passage. A young yeti boy named Willump found Nunu and brought him home. From then on Nunu was raised by the yetis, whose culture remains a mystery to most Runeterrans. The boy quickly discovered that the seemingly savage creatures were in fact deeply spiritual beings living in harmony with their environment. They are very territorial and unafraid of defending themselves if called upon to do so. The yetis have watched the rest of Valoran, and they can smell the change on the wind. When the League of Legends was formed, the yetis knew they needed a champion. Riding his brother Willump, Nunu became that champion. Those who follow the League know that the boy is mature beyond his years, but, while he appears human, his mind is that of his adoptive kin.

If this is him now, imagine what Nunu will be like when he grows up!

Olaf, The Berserker

On an uncharted continent beyond Valoran’s grasping clutches, the conqueror named Olaf was born to a long tradition of soldiers unlike most others. Berserkers, as they tout themselves, are warriors who channel fury deep from their cores, unleashing pure and savage wrath upon their enemies. This fearsome evolution is a product of their unforgiving home, Lokfar – a barren tundra where all creatures must vie bitterly for every resource. Olaf belonged to a seafaring clan known for ruthlessly pillaging any and all villages within reach of their dragon-crested longboats. The last time he saw his icy home, Olaf was embarking on an expedition to pioneer and plunder a distant land known only to legend. However, while underway, a terrible storm sprung up and Olaf and his crew were thrown to the mercy of a roiling and pitiless sea.

His ship destroyed, his crew nowhere to be found, Olaf miraculously washed up untold miles from ”friendly” waters on the foreign shores of Valoran, south of Demacia. This unfamiliar place stunned and frightened the Berserker, for Lokfar is not privy to such potent magicians. Approaching them, Olaf hoped that they could use their mysterious powers to send him back to his people. A bargain was struck. Olaf would use his awesome prowess as a warrior to serve the unusual wars of Valoran in the League of Legends, and in exchange the sorcerers would find him a way to return. Despite his participation in the League, Olaf knows better than to trust the ”finger wagglers” that run the Institute of War. He deliberately keeps details of his life and home from them. After all, with enough information, they would most certainly find the Lokfarians and dominate them as they have dominated all of Valoran, keeping both quietly — and unwittingly — in their thrall.

Beware the war cry of the Berserker. What surges toward you is unyielding, free from the shackles of reason.

Orianna, The Lady of Clockwork

There once was a Piltovian man named Corin Reveck who had a daughter named Orianna, whom he loved more than anything else in the world. Though Orianna had incredible talent for dancing, she was deeply fascinated by the champions of the League of Legends. This fascination compelled her to begin training to become such a champion. It is unfortunate that her sheltered, wide-eyed naivete led her to take unnecessary and dangerous chances which ultimately led to her tragic demise. Orianna’s death shattered Corin, driving him into deep depression and an obsession with techmaturgy. He could not stand the void his daughter’s death left in his life, so he decided to build a replacement – one that would complete Orianna’s dream of joining the League. What was created is the clockwork killing machine that Corin named after his daughter. Knowing that she was destined to be a champion and seeing the way the times were changing, he created The Ball as her pet and protector. This nearly symbiotic creation uses a different type of techmaturgy, relying more heavily on electricity than clockwork.

Orianna and The Ball now fight as Champions in the League of Legends, using her sometimes misguided morality as a compass. She tries in earnest to fit in with those around her. However, no matter how hard she tries, Orianna can never be human and there is always something unnerving and alien about her. Though she attempts social interaction with other champions in the League of Legends, there are few who can get past her exotic nature. To many, it’s as if there’s nothing inside, that Orianna is just a soulless clockwork shell – a dangerous and deadly one at that. However, all along she remains the perfect daughter in her father’s eyes.

”Dance with me, my pet. Dance with me into oblivion.”

Pantheon, The Artisan of War

Far above the clouds on Mount Targon resides a stalwart tribe of people known as the Rakkor who still revere combat and war as ultimate artforms. They remember the Rune Wars of Runeterra and know that the League of Legends can only repress the rising tides of violence for so long. Each member of the tribe is bred to be a disciplined and vicious warrior, preferring to battle soldiers of either the Noxian or Demacian armies only when outnumbered at least ten to one. Rakkor warriors are trained not only to be as lethal with their bare hands as the most capable martial artists, but also to fiercely wield the many relic-weapons of the tribe. Such treasures have been handed down from generation to generation, and have harnessed the mystical nature of Runeterra in their very cores. These relic-weapons are among the most dangerous in existence – and it comes as no surprise that they have found their way to the League of Legends in the hands of Pantheon.

This stone-faced warrior is a paragon of his people, his very existence an anthem of exultation to the art of combat. Pantheon found it insulting that the people of Valoran would install an organization to replace war, complete with so-called champions, without including the Rakkor. Gathering the blessings of his tribe and armed with the relics of his ancestors, he has descended on the League to show the world a true warrior. He cares not who he fights, and cares nothing for the pageantry or prestige of a League champion, but lives only for the austere glory of battle. As long as Pantheon breathes, he thirsts for another foe to vanquish.

”I was hoping they had more reinforcements.” – Pantheon, standing amidst the pieces of a brutalized Noxian battalion.

Poppy, The Iron Ambassador

While other young yordle girls played skip-step and braided wreathes out of posies, Poppy spent her youth earning calluses and grease stains in her father’s armor shop. Blomgrun, her father, was Bandle City’s finest smith. The only thing he loved as much as his work was his young daughter, Poppy – named for the sprightly sounds of the sparks that leapt from his ever-burning forge. He welled with pride the day she was first able to lift his trusty hammer, Whomper. Poppy immediately took to his art, demonstrating a natural gift for smithing, which Blomgrun honed with devoted instruction.

One day, a Demacian general named Florin Berell commissioned Blomgrun to craft a helm, glorious beyond comparison. Blomgrun toiled away on this project, determined to present Florin with his finest work. He let Poppy set the center jewel, entrusting her with the most important piece. When the pair finished, they departed for Demacia to deliver it in person. Word of the general’s order, however, was leaked to the Noxian High Command, and two Noxian assassins were dispatched to intercept the delivery. Blomgrun was able to occupy the assassins long enough for Poppy to escape with the prized helm. She watched helplessly from the brush as her father was slain. Instead of fleeing home, she carried the helm the rest of the way to Demacia alone. She refused payment for it, saying that no amount would compensate for her father’s life. Instead, she offered it as a gift, honoring her father’s final intentions. Florin saw the grim determination behind the tears in her eyes, and requested that the leadership of Bandle City appoint Poppy as the yordle ambassador to Demacia. Soon after, seeking to crush Noxus with her father’s hammer, Poppy volunteered for the League of Legends.

Poppy may be small, but Whomper – or her will – is not.

Rammus, The Armordillo

Ravaged by Rune Wars long past, the lands south of the Great Barrier are wrecked by chaotic magical storms, leaving the grasp of nature’s rule tenuous at best. While abnormal flora or fauna are the norm rather than the exception in these ruined areas, perhaps none is more curious than the case of Rammus. While no one is entirely certain why an armadillo from the Shurima Desert crossed the Kumungu Jungle into the Plague Jungles, Rammus made just such a journey. There, amongst the twisted vines and festering rot, he came across an oddity – a healthy evergreen hedge maze, stretching as far as the eye could see. As he explored the maze, something compelled him toward its center – a light, a presence of some kind. As he drew closer, the light surged, blinding him and knocking him unconscious.

When he awoke, Rammus’ whole world had changed. The maze had vanished and he felt truly cognizant for the first time in his otherwise unremarkable life. As his predicament dawned on him, Rammus had a moment of panic. As he trembled, the earth around him began to shake, the intensity increasing until he managed to steady himself. As the quake receded, Rammus arose and left the Plague Jungles in search of others like him. His search brought him across all the lands south of the Great Barrier, but everywhere he went, he was unique.The hardships of this sojourn inspired him to craft the suit of armor that would earn him the title of Armordillo. Rammus’ quest eventually drew him to the only place where a sentient armadillo is less than confounding – the League of Legends.

”I’ve seen a lot of things, but this… this is a first.” – Ezreal, the Prodigal Explorer, after first meeting Rammus

Renekton, The Butcher of the Sands

On a faraway world, Renekton was born a member of a race of bestial guardians created to serve as the rulers and protectors of their people. Alongside his brother Nasus, Renekton oversaw the upkeep of the Great Library, which served as both a vault of ancient knowledge and the repository of the teachings of the Cycle of Life and Death. While the enlightened Nasus taught those scholars who came to study, Renekton served as the Great Library’s gatekeeper. He could sense the true natures of those who sought Nasus’ teachings, and he sent away those with dark ambitions. Over time, however, his repeated exposure to this evil infected his mind. He grew furious with the malevolence in the hearts of men, and as he descended deeper into madness, he discovered he could quell the fury by cutting the evil from the men who possessed it. Unfortunately, the relief was as short-lived as the subjects, and the ”butcher’s rage”, as it came to be known, would resurge even stronger.

Consumed by his anger, Renekton turned on the one being who could defeat him — his own brother. Nasus pleaded with Renekton to see reason. Realizing that he was beyond redemption, the despondent Nasus valiantly struck down his wayward sibling. Defenseless, Renekton waited eagerly for death’s release. It never came. He was spared when summoners from the League of Legends claimed his brother. Caught in the wake of this powerful spell, Renekton tumbled for what seemed like ages between realities. When he finally emerged, he fell deep into the sewers of Zaun. Insane with fury, Renekton languished in his newfound home, driven senseless by his rage. That is until, by happenstance, he caught a familiar scent in the air. Believing that the familiar scent would guide him to the solace that was fading from his memory, he traced his brother to the Institute of War.

”My brother has become hollow. Full of rage, but empty.” — Nasus, the Curator of the Sands.

Riven, The Exile

In Noxus, any citizen may rise to power regardless of race, gender, or social standing – strength is all that matters. It was with committed faith in this ideal that Riven strove to greatness. She showed early potential as a soldier, forcing herself to master the weight of a long sword when she was barely its height. She was ruthless and efficient as a warrior, but her true strength lay in her conviction. She entered battles without any trace of doubt in her mind: no ethical pause, no fear of death. Riven became a leader amongst her peers, poster child of the Noxian spirit. So exceptional was her passion that the High Command recognized her with a black stone rune sword forged and enchanted with Noxian sorcery. The weapon was heavier than a kite shield and nearly as broad – perfectly suited to her tastes. Soon after, she was deployed to Ionia as part of the Noxian invasion.

What began as war quickly became extermination. Noxian soldiers followed the terrifying Zaunite war machines across fields of death. It wasn’t the glorious combat for which Riven trained. She carried out the orders of her superiors, terminating the remnants of a beaten and fractured enemy with extreme prejudice. As the invasion continued, it became clear that the Ionian society would not be reformed, merely eliminated. During one bitter engagement, Riven’s unit became surrounded by Ionian forces. They called for support as the enemy closed in around them. What they received instead was a barrage of biochemical terror launched by Singed. Riven watched as around her Ionian and Noxian alike fell victim to an unspeakably gruesome fate. She managed to escape the bombardment, though she could not erase the memory. Counted dead by Noxus, she saw an opportunity to start anew. She shattered her sword, severing ties with the past, and wandered in self-imposed exile – on a quest to seek atonement and a way to save the pure Noxian vision in which she believed.

”There is a place between war and murder / in which our demons lurk.”

Rumble, The Mechanized Menace

Even amongst yordles, Rumble was always the runt of the litter. As such, he was used to being bullied. In order to survive, he had to be scrappier and more resourceful than his peers. He developed a quick temper and a reputation for getting even, no matter who crossed him. This made him something of a loner, but he didn’t mind. He liked to tinker, preferring the company of gadgets, and he could usually be found rummaging through the junkyard. He showed great potential as a mechanic. His teachers recommended him for enrollment at the Yordle Academy of Science and Progress in Piltover, where he may very well have become one of Heimerdinger’s esteemed proteges, but Rumble refused to go. He believed that Heimerdinger and his associates were ”sellouts,” trading superior yordle technology to humans for nothing more than a pat on the head while yordles remained the butt of their jokes. When a group of human graduates from the Yordle Academy sailed to Bandle City to visit the place where their mentor was born and raised, Rumble couldn’t resist the temptation to see them face-to-face (so to speak). He only intended to get a good look at the humans, but four hours and several choice words later, he returned home bruised and bloodied with an earful about how he was an embarrassment to ”enlightened” yordles like Heimerdinger. The next morning he left Bandle City without a word, and wasn’t seen again for months. When he returned, he was at the helm of a clanking, mechanized monstrosity. He marched it to the center of town amidst dumbfounded onlookers and there announced that he would join the League of Legends to show the world what yordle-tech was really capable of, without hiding behind a foreign banner.

”Ugh, it’s gonna take forever to scrape your face off my suit!” – Rumble

Ryze, The Rogue Mage

There are many on Runeterra who are attracted to the study of magic or, in recent times, the emerging field of techmaturgy. For most, pursuit of such knowledge is formalized in a college or university. The halls of traditional study were never for Ryze, however, who felt a more raw and primal connection to the magic of Runeterra than those who tried to teach him. He struck out on his own as a young man to discover what already called to him. Ryze traveled the world, seeking the wisdom of powerful hermits, witches, and shamans – anyone who had something to share beyond what was taught in the city-states of Valoran. When he had learned all he could from these fonts of wisdom, Ryze turned to seek the lost, forgotten, and forbidden knowledge in the world, delving into mystical worlds where others feared to tread.

Ryze’s tireless searching for magical knowledge led him to an ancient form of spellcraft known as thorn magic. This art required Ryze to tattoo spells on his body, permanently infusing his being with vast arcane power and finally fulfilling his need to bond with the mystical energies of Runeterra. His travels also led him to uncover the giant indestructible scroll he now carries on his back – the purpose of the inscribed spell remains a secret only Ryze knows. He claims it is an abomination – something that he must safeguard from the world. This has piqued the curiosity of many, though no one is sure how to separate the scroll from Ryze, or if it is possible to overcome the rogue mage to do so. Since then, Ryze has joined the League of Legends to study the magical creatures and powerful will-workers that fight there, in order to complete his exploration of mystical Runeterra.

”Ryze is no longer just a mage – he has become a creature of magic itself.”
-High Councilor Heywan Relivash

Shaco, The Demon Jester

Most would say that death isn’t funny. It isn’t, unless you’re Shaco – then it’s hysterical. He is Valoran’s first fully functioning homicidal comic; he jests until someone dies, and then he laughs. The figure that has come to be known as the Demon Jester is an enigma. No one fully agrees from whence he came, and Shaco never offers any details on his own. A popular belief is that Shaco is not of Runeterra – that he is a thing summoned from a dark and twisted world. Still others believe that he is the demonic manifestation of humanity’s dark urges and therefore cannot be reasoned with. The most plausible belief is that Shaco is an assassin for hire, left to his own lunatic devices until his services are needed. Shaco certainly has proven himself to be a cunning individual, evading authorities at every turn who might seek him for questioning for some horrendous, law-breaking atrocity. While such scuttlebutt might reassure the native inhabitants of Valoran, it seems unimaginable that such a malfeasant figure is allowed to remain at large.

Whatever the truth of his history might be, Shaco has joined the League of Legends for reasons only he knows. He is a terrifying figure, typically shunned by both his fellow champions and the media at large. Only the summoners in the Institute of War know why such a creature was allowed into the League, but most Runeterrans suspect it to be a means that allows the power that be to keep an eye on the ever-elusive Shaco. Unsurprisingly, this champion is popular in places where madness can openly reign, such as among the power-hungry summoners of Zaun and Noxus.

Whatever you do, don’t tell him you missed the punch line.

Shen, Eye of Twilight

There exists an ancient order originating in the Ionian Isles dedicated to the preservation of balance. Order, chaos, light, darkness — all things must exist in perfect harmony for such is the way of the universe. This order is known as the Kinkou and it employs a triumvirate of shadow warriors to uphold its causes in the world. Shen is one of these shadow warriors, entrusted with the sacred duty of Watching the Stars – exercising judgment untainted by prejudice.

Born to a clan whose members have decorated the ranks of the Kinkou for generations, Shen was trained his entire life to become the Eye of Twilight, and thereupon to dispassionately determine what must be done in the interests of equilibrium. As his final trial to ascend to this position, he was made to attend the Takanu, a ceremony in which his father was tortured before his eyes to test his resolve. Any reaction whatsoever would have resulted in his immediate disqualification, but he never averted his gaze and never blinked, not once. As the Eye of Twilight, Shen must make decisions that would buckle the wills of ordinary men, removing all emotion from the equation. He now works with his fellows Akali and Kennen to enforce the balance of Valoran. This hallowed pursuit has unsurprisingly led the triumvirate to the Fields of Justice.

The Eye of Twilight sees not the despair of its victims, only the elegance of equilibrium.

Singed, The Mad Chemist

Singed descended from a long line of Zaun’s revered chemists. Even in his youth, his talent for concocting potions far outstripped that of his peers, and he quickly distinguished himself from his less extraordinary chemist compatriots. It came as no surprise to anyone when he was selected for apprenticeship by the infamous Warwick, master apothecary on a lucrative retainer with the Noxian military during their campaign against Ionia. Within Warwick’s laboratories, Singed toiled without end, rapidly absorbing every detail of his predecessor’s deadly craft. Singed had little concern for the death and destruction that was the fruit of his labors. By the time the curse of lycanthropy descended to claim his master, Singed was poised and eager to make the transition from workhorse to innovator; he was ready to share his genius by bringing a new brand of suffering to the Ionian front. His zeal for progress was unquenchable, and when suitable test subjects proved to be in short supply, the eager chemist was often thought to turn his volatile mixtures on his own flesh.

When the uneasy peace created by the League of Legends settled on the world, Singed journeyed to the one place where he was still able to showcase his beloved craft: the Institute of War. By this time he was barely even a man, his body both ruined and sustained by his ingenious craft. A thousand burns – accidents of shadow and flame – mar his ravaged form, and exposure to such harsh conditions has deadened his nerves, hardened his body, and strengthened his physique, transforming him into a veritable juggernaut. This, combined with a formidable arsenal of deadly concoctions, makes Singed a force to be reckoned with on the Fields of Justice.

”My deadliest dose shall bear my patron’s name!” – Singed, having just christened the Insanity Potion

Sion, The Undead Champion

Prior to the creation of the League of Legends, the city-states of Demacia and Noxus were locked in a brutal series of on-again-off-again wars that spanned the course of centuries. Both powers sought an advantage over the other, but Noxus was the city-state willing to forego conventional morality to achieve its goals. Only brute strength and the will to use it mattered to Noxus, and this is best exemplified in the murderous warrior, Sion. Used by the Noxians as a human battering ram, Sion would be sent thundering ahead of Noxian troops. He would mercilessly slaughter foes with his large double-bladed axe, ”Chopper”. His complete disregard for caution ultimately cost him his life, as he was captured and summarily executed by Demacian forces.

The Demacians thought that the beheading of Sion would be the end of his bloodthirsty ways. Death, however, was merely the beginning of Sion’s rise to power. The famed Noxian assassin, Katarina, recovered Sion’s remains and Noxian necromancers reanimated the behemoth to serve Noxus once again. Sion’s reanimation actually bestowed new powers on him and increased the potency of his existing abilities, making him even more of a terror to behold on the battlefield. The Noxian High Command had a powerful new weapon in their hands – one they have brought to bear as a champion in the League of Legends. Even though Sion’s increased powers would make him a powerful tool for the High Command’s use outside the Fields of Justice, Noxus no longer risks losing one of their greatest champions in the League to chance or circumstance; Sion’s days as a front-line fighter for Noxus’ military conquests are at an end.

”For Noxus, death is a promotion.” — Pantheon

Sivir, The Battle Mistress

The beautiful and deadly champion known as Sivir has been a favorite of League summoners for close to a decade. A soldier-for-hire outside of the Fields of Justice, she is the embodiment of a highly successful mercenary on modern day Runeterra. Sivir has little interest in the ”cribbage sheets” – as she calls them – of League influence bartering. Instead, she is motivated by material wealth and riches, and she is paid handsomely for her services. Sivir is one of the wealthiest individuals found anywhere on Valoran. Sivir owns multiple residences in a number of different city-states, as well as ownership stakes in a number of businesses all across Valoran. Her detractors, either envious of her success or acrimonious of her flexible morality, have begun to use Sivir as a symbol of what is wrong with the mercenary nature of the League. Sivir dismisses her critics, saying that while her personal code of ethics is less ruthless than her competitors, ”Everyone has a price.”

Sivir has earned many titles and accolades throughout her illustrious career, but the one she held until recently was ”Battle Mistress of Noxus”. Now she is simply known as ”The Battle Mistress” after breaking her contract with the Noxian High Command. Sivir dared to object to the Noxian war against the peaceful island state of Ionia, though less about the morality of the issue than the planning behind it; her predictions of a bloody stalemate came true when the Ionians held off the relentless assaults of the Noxians. Claiming that the Noxian High Command had lost its direction, she left Noxus and made her services available to the Institute of War. The Noxian High Command has sent a number of contracted assassins to deal with its rogue mercenary, but none have delivered her or survived.

”Time and time again, Sivir proves that she has earned the right to call herself ‘The Battle Mistress’.” — Jax

Skarner, The Crystal Vanguard

Centuries ago, there lived a race of creatures as ferocious as they were wise. The brackern were unusual beings blessed with the earth’s primal magic, embodied in the form of crystals. Their kind knew of an arcane ritual to bind their life’s essence to a crystal, communing with the magic embedded in it. With this power, the brackern thrived in the Odyn Valley, protecting both creatures and crystals alike. Despite attacks from those looking to claim the primal magic, it seemed that nothing could get past the brackern’s defenses. Nothing, that is, until the devastation of a Rune War.

A vicious battle was fought near the Odyn Valley and the unleashed chaotic magic poisoned the crystals. The brackern began to grow sick and die, and no amount of defensive magic could reverse the effects. To avoid extinction, their only course was to hibernate underground until the wars stopped. The strongest, most intelligent brackern hibernated closer to the surface to awaken first and assess the world’s condition for the return of their race. The recent mining operations and violent escalation in Kalamanda were enough to awaken the first of these vanguards. When Skarner burst to the surface, he lashed out in anger and confusion. Reason eventually won out over his anger when he realized that the agents of the League who found him were simply functionaries. Skarner was invited to the Institute of War to share the brackern’s story. In return, the summoners told him about the history that his kind had slept through. Much had been done to curb the unchecked use of magic since the Rune Wars, but it was obvious that the world was not yet safe for his kind to reawaken. For now, however, there is a place where Skarner can use his power to change the world into one to which his kind could eventually return: the League of Legends.

”The humans have not yet learned to control their magic – what once was Kalamanda is now a crystal scar on the history of this world.” – Skarner

Sona, Maven of the Strings

Sona has no memories of her true parents. As an infant, she was found abandoned on the doorstep of an Ionian adoption house, nestled atop an ancient instrument in an exquisite case of unknown origins. She was an unusually well-behaved child, always quiet and content. Her caretakers were sure she would find a home quickly, but it soon became apparent that what they mistook for uncommon geniality was actually an inability to speak or to produce any sound whatsoever. Sona remained at the adoption house until her teens, watching in hopeless silence as prospective adopters passed her by. During this time, the caretakers sold her unusual instrument to anxious collectors, hoping to build her a trust. For a myriad of bizarre and unexpected reasons, however, it would be returned, or simply appear again outside the house.

When a wealthy Demacian woman named Lestara Buvelle learned of the instrument, she immediately embarked to Ionia. When the caretakers showcased the instrument for her, she rose wordlessly and explored the house, stopping outside Sona’s room. Without hesitation, Lestara adopted her and left a generous donation for the instrument. With Lestara’s guidance, Sona discovered a deep connection with the instrument which Lestara called an ‘etwahl’. In her hands, it played tones which stilled or quivered the hearts of those around her. Within months, she was headlining with the mysterious etwahl for sold-out audiences. She played as though plucking heartstrings, effortlessly manipulating the emotions of her listeners – all without a single written note. In secret, she discovered a potent and deadly use for her etwahl, using its vibrations to slice objects from a distance. She honed this discipline in private, mastering her gift. When she felt prepared, she went to the only place which could offer her a fitting recital: the League of Legends.

”Her melody moves the soul, her silence sunders the body.”
– Jericho Swain, after attending her concert

Soraka, The Starchild

Soraka, the Starchild of Ionia, was the first of her kind. While there are many who tap into the rich magical energies of Valoran, she was the first to tap into the magic of the cosmos itself – the celestial sea in which it is theorized that Runeterra swims among other like bodies. While Runeterran magicians are limited by the finite (though tremendous) powers of runes, there have always been those who have searched to go further. Reaching beyond the terrestrial firmament of Runeterra, Soraka was capable of invoking the power of the stars, evolving beyond her kin. This power has changed her in fantastical ways – it is for this reason that she became known as the Starchild.

Though Soraka was once trans-human, Soraka has fallen since she let the most primal of emotions rule her. Warwick, a mercenary chemist in the service of Noxus, had caused untold suffering and death among Soraka’s people. An alchemical genius who took no responsibility for the atrocities he’d caused, Warwick became known as ”the Deathmaker” by the Ionian people. As Noxian murder and terror pushed ever-forward across her land, unstoppable anger and hatred welled within Soraka. She called down the power of the heavens to curse and forever change the Deathmaker, and she mutated the man into a werewolf – a wild, murderous beast. For this misstep, Soraka lost much of her power, sacrificing her trans-human ascension and sliding several steps down the evolutionary ladder in an instant. Though she is still a champion of the Ionian people, Soraka has joined the League of Legends in hopes of reversing her curse and redeeming herself in the eyes of the stars.

Though having fallen from grace, Soraka is nonetheless determined to once again be one with the stars.

Swain, The Master Tactician

The earliest account of Swain’s existence comes from a Noxian infirmary doctor’s notes. According to them, Swain limped into the ward without cry or complaint; his right leg was snapped in half, with bone protruding from the skin. A small, scowling bird seemed affixed to his shoulder. The doctor gawked in horror as the young adolescent answered questions about his health and age with a calm, even stare. Even behind the echoing crack as the sand counterweights reset his tibia, Swain’s measuring gaze never flickered, nor did his eyes twitch from the pop of his fibula. He refused the doctor’s recommendation of magical treatment for the leg’s inoperable damage, requesting only a spare crutch before shuffling away. He next surfaced in documents from the Noxian military, although it is evident that they are incomplete. Normally a crippled boy would be turned away in shame from Noxus’ proud legion, but the records indicate his first designation was that of a ranking officer.

The men who’ve served under him (and survived) have remained in his charge with unshakable faith and loyalty. He leapt through the High Command’s hierarchy, often ascending when superiors requested demotions to join his unit. A cunning strategist, Swain was decorated after every battle he fought, regularly hobbling in contemplation at the front of the assault. His rise to power seemed unceasing until he was suddenly relegated to inactive status prior to the Ionian Invasion – a bewildering decision which reeked of bureaucratic subversion. If Swain was upset by the events which unfolded, he never belied it. His face was so implacable that it was popularly rumored to be a mask, disguising something utterly inhuman beneath. More controversy surrounded the bird that never left his shoulder, whose name he whispered only to it. When Demacia escalated its presence in the League, Swain was immediately returned to active duty.

”If you haven’t yet lost the ability to ask, you may not yet ask for relief.”
-Swain

Talon, The Blade’s Shadow

Talon’s earliest memories are the darkness of Noxus’ underground passages and the reassuring steel of a blade. He remembers no family, warmth, or kindness. Instead, the clink of stolen gold and the security of a wall at his back are all the kinship he has ever craved. Kept alive only by his quick wits and deft thievery, Talon scraped out a living in the seedy underbelly of Noxus. His mastery of the blade quickly marked him as a threat, and Noxian guilds sent assassins to him with a demand: join their ranks or be killed. He left the bodies of his pursuers dumped in Noxus’ moat as his response.

The assassination attempts grew increasingly dangerous until one assailant met Talon blade-for-blade in a match of strength. To his surprise, Talon was disarmed and facing down his executioner’s sword when the assassin revealed himself to be General Du Couteau. The General offered Talon the choice between death at his hand, or life as an agent of the Noxian High Command. Talon chose life, on the condition that his service was to Du Couteau alone, for the only type of orders he could respect were from one he could not defeat. Talon remained in the shadows, carrying out secret missions on Du Couteau’s orders that took him from the frigid lands of Freljord to the inner sanctums of Bandle City. When the general vanished, Talon considered reclaiming his freedom, but he had gained immense respect for Du Couteau after years in his service. He became obsessed with tracking down the general’s whereabouts. Talon’s suspicions led him to the doors of the Institute of War, where he joined the League of Legends in order to find those responsible for Du Couteau’s disappearance.

”The three deadliest blademasters in all of Valoran are bound to the house of Du Couteau: my father, myself, and Talon. Challenge us, if you dare.” – Katarina Du Couteau

Taric, The Gem Knight

There is a form of magic unknown to many Runeterrans and discredited by the few who are even aware of its existence. It is the magic of the earth, drawing power from the resonance of crystals and gems. Taric, the Gem Knight, is Runeterra’s sole practitioner of this form of magic, having been erratically summoned to Runeterra from a faraway world. Back home, Taric’s father was a distinguished healer in their home city. Taric was always interested in his father’s pursuits, even from a young age. Despite his burgeoning understanding of herbs, plants, and animal medicines, it was the power of gems that most fascinated the growing boy. It wasn’t long before Taric had exhausted his father’s coveted library and set out on a path of his own. He wanted to help the people, but not by simply salving their wounds and curing their woes. He wasn’t to be a healer, but a defender – one who used the power of earth to preserve and protect.

Taric became a wandering knight, renowned across his homeland as a guardian of the just until the day a spell of summoning grabbed him from his home and deposited him on Runeterra. Though disoriented and confused at first, he now feels that the continent of Valoran is in need of someone like him. Despite missing his homeland, Taric is happy to fight in the League, serving as a protector for all who seek one. His neat and stylish appearance combined with his shiny bejeweled armor and weapons have rapidly made him a celebrity champion of the League of Legends. Valoran’s media, for some reason, has taken great interested in his personal life. While open about his life as a champion and gracious in all things, Taric is tight-lipped about his life outside the League and prefers his privacy.

As Taric’s father taught him, every stone has its meaning. For Taric’s enemies, they all mean trouble.

Teemo, The Swift Scout

Teemo is a legend among his yordle brothers and sisters in Bandle City. As far as yordles are concerned, there is something just slightly off about him. While Teemo enjoys the companionship of other yordles, he also insists on frequent solo missions in the ongoing defense of Bandle City. Despite his genuinely warm personality, something switches off inside Teemo’s mind during combat so that the lives he must end while on patrol do not burden him. Even as a young recruit, the drill instructors and other trainees found it a little disconcerting that, while Teemo was normally charming and kind, he turned deadly serious and highly efficient the minute combat exercises began. Teemo’s superiors quickly steered him toward the Scouts of the Mothership, which is one of Bandle City’s most distinguished Special Forces unit alongside the Megling Commandos.

While most yordles do not handle solo scouting missions with a great deal of finesse, Teemo is remarkably efficient at them. His record of success in defending Bandle City from infiltrators easily makes him one of the most dangerous yordles alive, though you’d never know it by having a cup of honey mead with him at his favorite inn. Bandle City chose Teemo as their first champion for the League, and he has taken to it like a duck to water. His signature weapon – a blowgun – uses a rare ajunta poison he personally gathers from the jungles of Kumungu. To help cope with his lengthy periods of isolation, Teemo recently struck up a friendship with Tristana, a fellow League champion and fellow member of Bandle City’s Special Forces. This connection is healthy for both yordles, though now Valoran’s voracious media outlets circulate rumors that the friendship is turning into a romantic relationship. Regardless, Teemo is a crowd favorite in the League of Legends, and a pint-sized foe that many have come to fear.

”Teemo rides a thin line between chipper compatriot and unrepentant killer, but there’s no one else I’d rather have as a friend.” -Tristana

Tristana, The Megling Gunner

The Megling Commandos are something of a legend in Bandle City. They have a history that spans centuries, and they remain the oldest yordle military unit still in service. They are renowned for their courage, deadliness, and ruthlessness, making them the most respected and feared of all warriors in Bandle City. Legends of Megling, the valiant founder of the commandos, are still heard throughout Valoran’s taverns. It was these legends that most fascinated a young Tristana. Since she was a wee child, Tristana wanted nothing more than to become the crack shot that her idol had been all those years ago. She trained her entire life, until finally she was old enough to join the military and able to earn her place among the Megling Commandos. The senior officers were impressed by her abilities, claiming that Tristana was a natural, and her dream was realized the day she donned her Megling fatigues.

Though her heart lies with her unit, the call to the League of Legends was irresistible and now Tristana protects Bandle City as a champion. While intense and focused as a Megling Gunner, Tristana is remarkably different in her personal life. Outside the Fields of Justice, she is friendly and cheerful – the sort of yordle who always has a kind word for everyone. Tristana recently struck up a close friendship with Teemo, the Swift Scout. They are both members of Bandle City’s Special Forces, so not only do they bond as yordles, but also as fellow warriors and champions… though she outright ignores any questions pertaining to a blossoming romance.

”If there’s one person I’d trust to take on a difficult mission, it’s Tristana – all day long!” – Teemo

Trundle, The Cursed Troll

Trolls have never been well-regarded beings of Valoran. Generally speaking, they are barbaric, cannibalistic, and sneaky. They are creatures relegated to the murky recesses of the world, hidden away from most intelligent beings. Despite their maleficent natures, however, the Ruhgosk never deserved the grisly fate that was visited upon them. Generations ago, a twisted necromancer known as Hakolin the Bonecrafter attempted to enslave the Ruhgosk tribe. These trolls are considerably more genteel than their ill-mannered brethren, although still uncouth by human standards. The Ruhgosk fought tooth and claw against the necromancer, ultimately driving him from their land. As a parting gift, Hakolin afflicted the trolls with a leprous disease, forever cursing the members of the tribe. The leprosy would have rotted their flesh away to nothing were it not for the trolls’ natural ability to regenerate. Caught forever in a hideous rotting state, the Ruhgosk endured their curse while desperately in search of a cure. They never found one.

A wise Ruhgosk shaman learned that he could magically bind the disease to a single troll, provided that the troll could bear the weight of the entire tribe’s curse upon himself. However, there was no such troll…until the birth of Trundle. His ability to regenerate was so profound that it appeared as if he did not carry the disease. As Trundle grew, he came to understand his gift and what it could do for his people. When he came of age, he took the curse from his tribe in a baptism of searing agony. Through the shaman’s ritual, Trundle became a horrifying creature whose flesh constantly sloughs off his body, only to be re-grown in an unremitting cycle. He has joined the League of Legends in hopes of eventually finding someone who could dispel the heinous curse completely.

”I’ve learned a thing or two about pain! Let me show you.”

– Trundle

Tryndamere, The Barbarian King

There are those who choose not to live in one of the great city-states of Valoran. Instead, they live in remote locales, often as part of a nomad or barbarian tribe. While perils abound in these untamed lands, there is also great freedom in being removed from the politics of Valoran. Tryndamere was born a member of one of these barbarian tribes in northern Valoran. Even as a young boy, it was obvious that he would grow in martial prowess to become one of his clan’s greatest warriors. However, as his clan moved south between the Howling Marsh and the Ironspike Mountains, they came across strangers in black garb, brandishing symbols of a beast’s skull. Despite Tryndamere’s pleas, his elder went out to speak with the strangers; they cut him down mercilessly. From there, they began to slaughter every man, woman, and child in the clan. Tryndamere, the sole survivor, hid under the bodies of his dead parents. Upon their bloodied corpses, he swore eternal vengeance on those who took his people from him – the assassins of Noxus.

To train himself, Tryndamere voluntarily served under all the great chieftains of the barbarian tribes, learning the ways of the barbarian warrior. Not only did this make him the man he needed to become in order to exact his revenge, it has also garnered him friends and allies among the most powerful barbarian leaders of Valoran. This recently allowed him to unite the barbarians into a single, powerful force – all under his command. Now he has joined the League of Legends to earn enough influence to find a permanent home for his people… and to slake his rage on the champions of his hated foes.

”The next true power will come from the far north, and it will involve Tryndamere – one way or another.” -Graccus Mightstone, League Senior Political Scholar.

Twisted Fate, The Card Master

Although born to poor gypsy parents, the champion known as Twisted Fate was able to gamble his way to prosperity as a card shark in the seedy underground gambling circuits of Demacia and Noxus. No matter how close the authorities came to catching him, the rogue always found a way to slip through their fingers. Despite his good fortune, he was never able to win that which he truly desired – the ability to control magic. When Twisted Fate learned of an experiment being conducted in Zaun that might help him with his wish, he did the only thing a gambler of his worth could do – he went all in and volunteered for the experiment.

Conducted by the infamous Dr. Xavier Rath, Twisted Fate was told that the wager for such participation might be steep. He might change forever, or nothing might happen, or he might die horribly. Pain, however, was likely a part of the deal no matter the outcome. These were hardly the worst odds the gambler had faced; his hopes raised, Twisted Fate underwent the experiment, enduring what he must for a chance at his dream. Then, it ended – with seemingly no effect whatsoever. The gypsy rogue flew into a murderous rage, but, before he could strike down the team, he suddenly teleported himself miles away. With a sly grin, he realized his luck had won out yet again. He now brings his luck and rakish charm to the Institute of War, where he is the Champion of choice for many – especially the gambling kind. To this day, Twisted Fate has avoided his inevitable reunion with Dr. Rath. The Card Master knows, however, that a confrontation is coming.

While the future may be mysterious and unknown to most, Twisted Fate is certain that his future lies within the cards.

Twitch, The Plague Rat

The city-state of Zaun is a twisted realm of science, mercantilism, and magic run amok. While the young science of techmaturgy does much to advance civilization, its research and use in Zaun pushes the boundaries of morality on a daily basis. Zaun, choked with pollution from the countless factories and laboratories that spew waste into the environment, suffers greatly. As polluted as Zaun is above-ground, its subterranean levels are far worse. All of Zaun’s runoff waste pooled together in its sewers, mixing into a toxic and mysterious concoction. A single plague rat rose from this alchemical nightmare – Twitch. Unlike his lesser evolved cousins, Twitch became as sentient as anyone else… provided they were as insane as he. A seeming byproduct of the evolutionary brew that spawned him was maniacal insanity, albeit in a functional form.

Twitch came to the League of Legends to represent himself ”as the only one of his kind” on the Fields of Justice. Since then, he has found a generous benefactor in the city that gave him his evolutionary sentience – Zaun. Twitch is one of Zaun’s premier champions in the League, and as such he fights for Zaun when political disputes between Valoran’s city-states arise. Twitch has publically stated that his goal is to gain enough influence and materiel from his work in the League to try to recreate the process by which he gained his sentience. While many challenges lie ahead in his quest – one of the largest being his own insanity – were he to succeed, it would mean a bold and brazen step forward in the evolution of all of Runeterra. Zaun has pledged its support for Twitch in his quest, though it remains to be seen what Zaun’s ulterior motives are in the matter.

”The existence of Twitch proves that anything is possible on Runeterra.”
— Heimerdinger

Udyr, The Animal Spirit

The mystics of Ionia delve into the deepest mysteries of Valoran, pioneering the most inner depths of spirituality. Their adepts are some of the most devout proponents of enlightenment and harmony…but as is always the case, there are those who follow a very different path. Born in a grassy clearing under a red moon, Udyr has always been compelled by the primal drive within him. His will was not untempered, simply undomesticated. As a boy, he toiled on his father’s farm, but he felt a much deeper connection with the mustangs that would graze in the distant fields than with the townsfolk who would visit. Oftentimes he was dragged into the house at night with a swat and a scolding when his parents would find him sleeping beneath the stars.

On the day of his sixteenth birthday, Udyr bade his family farewell and struck a path to the east, determined to shed the trappings of ”civilized” society. Freed of the shackles of cultural expectations, Udyr tapped into a well of inner ferocity he hadn’t known before. His feral senses roiled to the surface and he let them overcome him. It was at this point in his life that Udyr truly lost his humanity. Poachers and travelers who entered his territory did so at terrible risk, and rarely managed to leave it.

A monk on a long journey passed through his woods one day, and Udyr decided to scare him, leaping from a nearby brush. The monk casually turned and redirected Udyr to one side. Udyr, enraged, tried time and time again to best him, but the monk was unassailable. When Udyr was exhausted, the monk wordlessly beckoned him to follow, and together they walked in silence to the Hirana Monastery. The monks there took him in, and taught him to harness and control his animalistic fury…most of the time.

Urgot, The Headsman’s Pride

There are warriors who become great for their strength, cunning, or skill with arms. Others simply refuse to die. Urgot, once a great soldier of Noxus, may constitute a case in support of the latter. Prone to diving headlong into enemy battle lines, Urgot sewed chaos throughout the enemy ranks, often sustaining grievous injuries in the process. When his body was unable to weather further abuse, the crippled Urgot was delegated the position of High Executioner of Noxus. By this time, his hands had been ruined and he could barely walk. Scythe-like grafts affixed to his maimed limbs served to carry out his bloody work.

Urgot finally met his end at what should have been his finest hour. Because of his military background, he often accompanied detachments into foreign territory to carry out judgment. After ambushing an enemy force, Jarvan IV, Crown Prince of Demacia, fell into the clutches of Urgot’s division. Too far from Noxus to risk transporting their prize for ransom, Urgot prepared to dispose of their captive. At the final moment, however, the Dauntless Vanguard, led by Garen, the Might of Demacia, intervened, and Urgot was cut in two by the zealous warrior as he scrambled to free his Prince. In recognition of his service, the executioner’s remains were remanded to the Bleak Academy for reanimation. A lifetime of abuse, however, had left his body in a catastrophic state; proving problematic to the necromancers’ craft. Professor Stanwick Pididly, the prevailing scholar of Zaun, offered a solution. Within Pididly’s laboratories, a nightmarish new body was forged for Urgot. Now as much machine as man, Urgot arrived at the League of Legends in search of the man who ended his life; necromantic energies coursing through his metal veins.

”We can rebuild him. We have the techmaturgy.” –Professor Stanwick Pididly

Vayne, The Night Hunter

The world is not always as civilized as people might think. There are still those who would follow the blackest paths of magic and become corrupted by the darker powers that flow through Runeterra. Shauna Vayne knows this fact well. As a young privileged girl in the heart of Demacia’s elite, her father tried to convince her of the constabulary’s ever-vigilant eye. Young and naive, she truly believed that her world was one of perfect safety, until one night, when a twisted witch took interest in her father. The malevolent woman overcame her father’s conciliar guard, then tortured her family before murdering them. The young Shauna escaped only by hiding herself and then fleeing once the hag had departed, plagued by the screams of her loved ones as she ran. A burning hatred was born in her that day, one that could never be denied.

Vayne was able to take care of herself using her father’s money, and she began to train as soon as an instructor would have her as a student. By the time she was a fully grown woman, she had become a grim warrior. However, the fields of battle were not to be her home. Demacia needed a protector, one who hunted those lost to the darkness. Shauna used her family’s contacts to become the first Night Hunter, and now her prowess is the stuff of legends. It is said that those who practice the black arts quake when they hear that the Night Hunter is on the prowl. Despite her crusade, Shauna has looked at the League of Legends in horror. There are champions who have clearly lost themselves to the blackest of magics, and who have been embraced within the League even though they should be put down for the safety of all. The time has come for the Night Hunter to execute her secret mission – to purge the League of Legends.

Not all shadows are to be feared. At least, if Vayne has her way.

Veigar, The Tiny Master of Evil

To most, thoughts of yordles do not conjure images to be feared. The easygoing half-pint race, though fierce, is often regarded with some degree of joviality. Their high-pitched voices and naturally cute forms inspire something of a protective instinct in the larger races, or at least bring to mind images of children playing at being adults. every now and again, however, a yordles turns so bad that, even at its small stature, it strikes terror into the hearts of others. Veigar is such a twisted yordle. As a master of the magical black arts, as well as a corruptor of cosmic energy, he is one of the most powerful sorcerers on Valoran.

As a child, Veigar was a normal yordle with one small exception – he had a deep curiosity for the world beyond Bandle City. The young yordle spent much of his time studying the rest of Valoran, and he jumped at the chance to join a business that traded with other major city-states. Unfortunately for both him and the world, a deal with Noxian trader turned into shady business and went bad; Veigar and his companions were subsequently set up to take the fall. Arrested by the authorities, he was imprisoned within the walls of Noxus for years. Such isolation is very dangerous for yordles – undoubtedly why his cruel jailers did such a thing – and Veigar was slowly driven mad. He eventually escaped, having become a twisted version of his former self. Instead of returning to his people and Bandle City, he sought tutelage from dark wizards across the land. With his demented will focused on one task, he quickly became a dangerous and powerful wizard in his own right. Now he seeks to end all conflict on Valoran by bringing all of the city-states to their knees, regardless of their affiliation. The League of Legends is the perfect tool to help him meet his ends – for now.

Who says evil needs to come in a fearsome-looking package?

Vladimir, The Crimson Reaper

There is a temple hidden in the mountains between Noxus and the Tempest Flats, where the secrets of an ancient and terrifying sorcery are kept. The area surrounding the temple is littered with the exsanguinated corpses of those who have mistakenly wandered too close. These served only to pique the curiosity of Vladimir, when – in his youth – he trekked through these mountains during his flight from Noxus. A day earlier, the teenaged Vladimir had brutally murdered two boys his age, for no better reason than to enjoy the intoxicating scarlet bloom that surged forth. He realized immediately that he would never be able to suppress his murderous desires, and if he remained in Noxus, his foul deeds were sure to catch up with him. Without hesitation, he abandoned the city-state, and journeyed south.

The trail of bodies led him to a crumbling stone temple. Inside he found an aging monk who appraised him with eyes of pure crimson. Vladimir surprised the monk by returning the wicked gaze with zeal. Recognizing the boy’s sinister craving, the monk taught Vladimir how to manipulate and control the fluid of life, often practicing on passing travelers. When it came time for Vladimir to learn the final lesson, the monk warned that failure would result in death. Vladimir did not fail, but success bore a grisly surprise. During the ritual, every drop of the monk’s blood was drawn from his body and fused with Vladimir’s, imbuing him with his master’s magical essence, and that of every hemomancer before him. Left alone and suddenly without purpose, Vladimir resolved to return to Noxus, demanding enrollment in the League to prove the supremacy of his craft. When the Noxian High Command observed the gruesome fates which befell the palace guards, they elected to avail themselves of Vladimir’s unsavory talents.

”That which runs through you will run you through.”
-Vladimir

Warwick, The Blood Hunter

Warwick counted himself amongst the most powerful and revered men in his home city-state of Zaun. Over the course of his infamous career as an alchemist, Warwick won many honors for his craft, not the least of which was a lucrative offer for service in the Noxian military during their campaigns against Ionia. Sequestered in his labs far from the front lines, Warwick and his apprentice Singed toiled relentlessly to manufacture all manner of appalling concoctions for the Noxian army. So potent was his art that even the greatest of Ionia’s healers – under the leadership of the Starchild Soraka – struggled to combat the poisons and chemical weapons generated by his despicable mind. Warwick’s reign of terror grew so horrific that his very name became a curse in the eyes of his Ionian foes, and they began referring to him only as ”the Deathmaker.”

But even one under the protection of the Noxian High Command is not wholly beyond the reach of retribution. For as Soraka strode across the myriad of death and destruction left in the wake of one of Warwick’s chemical attacks, her heart finally gave way. She called down the wrath of the cosmos on Warwick, wishing that his form should mirror the cruelty in his heart – a curse that would come at the price of her aspiring divinity. Within his laboratory, a terrible thirst took hold over Warwick. As his apprentice looked on in horror, Warwick threw open the doors to his bastion and sprinted off toward parts unknown, a bloodcurdling howling marking his passage. He had become a werewolf; a wild, murderous beast. Today, the Blood Hunter fights for Noxus within the League of Legends… thankful of the curse that his now-mortal enemy bestowed upon him.

”The rage of the beast now complements his predatory spirit.” — Singed, the Mad Chemist, upon witnessing his master’s transformation

Wukong, The Monkey King

within the Plague Jungles. It remained there, untouched for centuries, emanating a potent magic which infused nearby wildlife with sentience and vitality. A group of monkeys who were particularly empowered by it came to worship the stone, and their leader – a wise sage – became convinced that he could harness its power to make the monkeys immortal. He performed an elaborate ritual, but things didn’t go as he expected. The runestone was destroyed, and instead of granting immortality, it produced Kong, a monkey who carried in his heart the strength and power it had contained. Kong was driven by an unquenchable desire for greatness. He sought out every beast and monster the Plague Jungles could offer, eager to find a worthy opponent, but none offered the challenge he craved. He asked the sage for advice, and learned about a legend of hairless monkeys to the north who, with wits and might, had bent the world to their will.

Wukong left, journeying north, determined to discover if the legend was true. He crossed the Southern Wastes and then the Great Barrier. On his way, he happened upon Master Yi, who was deep in meditation. Kong asked him who the strongest warrior in the north was, and Yi told him about the League of Legends. The tale intoxicated Kong, a place where he could battle the strongest fighters in the world was, to him, paradise. Kong asked Yi to introduce him to this League, and to teach him the ways of humans, so that he could be a fitting champion. In return, he would honor Yi by using Yi’s Wuju style to become the greatest warrior Runeterra had ever seen. Admiring his passion, Yi agreed, but under the condition that Kong would one day teach the lessons of Wuju to a pupil of his own. In the spirit of this agreement, he renamed Kong ”Wukong,” and gave him a weapon suited to his unusual nature – an enchanted staff that the young Doran had crafted. The weapon was an unrivalled masterpiece. Guided by Yi, Wukong joined the League of Legends to prove himself as the best, and to show the world the true power of Wuju.

”Only in combat do you learn who you truly are.”
– Wukong

Xerath, The Magus Ascendant

In the ancient civilization of Shurima, the mage called Xerath practiced magic with undying passion. He believed that with enough magical power, he could gaze into the heart of Runeterra to know the secrets of history and the universe beyond. Such magic was beyond the limitations of a mortal body, but Xerath obsessively pursued a path to infinite power nonetheless. With every breakthrough he grew more and more powerful, yet not without consequence. Xerath’s increasing arcane abilities wrought havoc on his physical form. Desperate, he undertook a dangerous ritual to transcend his dying body. The outcome would be immortality or self-destruction. Violent magic unleashed during the ritual caused devastation throughout Shurima, but when the dust settled, Xerath emerged as an ascended being of pure arcane energy.

Free of flesh and bone, Xerath held nearly infinite power at his command. However, in the wake of his chaotic ritual, the mages of Shurima feared his careless disregard for life would bring ruin to the kingdom. After a terrible struggle they subdued Xerath, but they could not destroy his ascended form. Instead they trapped him within an enchanted sarcophagus and sealed him in an underground tomb. Eons passed, civilizations rose and fell, and Xerath’s imprisonment was lost to memory. For centuries, Xerath’s vast power tore away at the sarcophagus and weakened its spell. Finally, he willed forth a burst of magic that shattered his prison, but its core remained, containing Xerath and his power within its broken pieces. Seeking to rid himself of this burden, he was drawn to the magic of Valoran’s nexuses and found he could absorb their power. Yet the nexuses had gatekeepers: petty mages known as summoners. Xerath knew his key to true freedom from his prison lay in gaining their trust, and he offered his power to the League of Legends.

‘I have no need for vengeance. Time has brought ruin to the mages of Shurima and I alone remain.’ – Xerath, the Magus Ascendant

Xin Zhao, The Seneschal of Demacia

Whenever Jarvan III, the king of Demacia, delivers one of his rallying speeches from the glinting marble balcony atop the Royal Palace, Xin Zhao is at his side. Coined the Seneschal of Demacia, Xin Zhao is the personal steward of the Lightshield Dynasty. His enigmatic, silent vigil has led to an abundance of conjecture concerning his ”secret life” and origins. Whether it’s ”Zaun double-agent” tendered at the dinner table or ”indebted rune mage” mused in the editorials of the ”Demacian Constant”, Xin Zhao betrays no hints to sate the curiosity of the masses… for good reason.

Prior to the formation of the League, Noxus was renowned for a spectacle called The Fleshing. It was a gladiatorial event with a cruel twist: as a fighter won matches, his number of opponents (generally prisoners of war) fought simultaneously would increase. This meant eventual death for every contender, but with unparalleled glory. Xin Zhao, known then as Viscero, was slated to face 300 soldiers, nearly six times the previous record. This was clearly meant to be his final match. Jarvan II, hearing of this unprescedented feat, infiltrated the arena to offer him an alternative: serve Demacia and punish those who ultimately sentence him to death in exchange for his freedom. Xin Zhao accepted, astonished that a king would risk his own life on his behalf. Under the cover of a prearranged Demacian assault on Noxus, Jarvan liberated Xin Zhao and his 300 opponents. During their retreat, Xin Zhao took a poisoned dart meant for Jarvan. This act of loyalty, from a man who vowed no allegiance, earned Xin Zhao a spot at his side until the day the king died. Now in the service of his son, Jarvan III, Xin Zhao is stepping into a new ring – the Fields of Justice – to fight for his adopted country and to honor the legacy of the man who gave purpose to his life.

”Death is inevitable, one can only avoid defeat.”
– Demacian Manual of Arms

Yorick, The Gravedigger

The work of gravediggers is essential amongst the living, but invaluable in the Shadow Isles. There are many shades of death there, and each is embraced rather than feared or reviled. One can only ascend from one state to the next with the magical aid of a skilled professional. At the end of the first Rune War, Yorick Mori made his living as a gravedigger. His family owned and maintained the Final Rest Memorial, one of the oldest cemeteries in Valoran. The shovel he employed for his work had been passed down for generations. Each gravedigger taught his son that this shovel was imbued with the spirit of every forefather, and that those spirits would protect him during the long lonely nights amongst the tombstones. To his eternal regret, Yorick died without an heir, bringing the proud Mori line to a close. His body was interred with his shovel in the family mausoleum, and the Final Rest Memorial soon fell to ruin. Death, however, was not the end Yorick had expected.

Yorick emerged on the haunted shores of the Shadow Isles – not quite dead, definitely not alive – still clutching his beloved shovel. He soon learned that with it he could act as a ferryman for the Isles’ undead denizens, helping them climb death’s many-tiered ladder. This proved a curse, as a gravedigger must ”bury his quota” before he too can ascend, or so the legend goes. No one knows what ”his quota” is. Yorick dug tirelessly, waiting in vain for the day when he would be freed of his burden. As decades turned to centuries, the shame of his failures came to a head. He returned to Valoran to find his corpse, convinced that salvation might be buried with it. When he arrived, no trace remained of either the mausoleum or the memorial. Hope nearly lost, he discovered the League of Legends, and there saw an opportunity to immortalize the family name he allowed to be forgotten ages ago.

”Die first, then we’ll talk.”
-Yorick

Zilean, The Chronokeeper

In the wastelands of Urtistan, there was once a great city. It perished long ago in a terrible Rune War, like most of the lands below the Great Barrier. Nevertheless, one man survived: a sorcerer named Zilean. Being obsessed with time, it was only fitting that he dwelled in the city’s Clock Tower. As the havoc of the war neared his home, Zilean experimented with powerful temporal magic to divine all possible futures, hoping to discover a peaceful solution. But Zilean’s enchantments affected his perception of the passage of time, and he was in a contemplative stasis when Urtistan was set upon by an entire phalanx of dark summoner-knights of unknown affiliation. By the time he realized his error, Urtistan was nothing more than smoldering debris. The summoners who were responsible for its destruction had wisely left the Clock Tower unharmed, both to avoid drawing Zilean’s attention and to torment him for his oversight.

Zilean barely had time to grieve the momentous loss before he learned that his dangerous research had a cruel side effect: chrono-displasia. This mystical disease granted him immortality, but detached his consciousness from its anchor in the present time. He now mentally drifts through time, from any point he has already lived to the present, unable to impact the events which unfold. The most torturous aspect of this curse is that Zilean sometimes experiences Urtistan as it once was and the rest of the time resides in its lonely ruins. Only the powerful summoning magic employed by members of the League of Legends has been able to treat this condition, and Zilean has joined in hopes of finding a cure, and thereafter a way to save his people.

”There is no greater grief than for a loss that is yet to come.”
– Zilean

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