Part I: Split Decision
[CENTER]League of Legends: The Coming Storm
By C. Wulffe
It just past afternoon in Noxus though with the weather it might have been in the dead of night. Rain had been hammering the city-state since early that morning. Such strange weather was not uncommon in this area. The difference this time was that the citizens, even the Noxian High Command, could felt something shifting inside of their walls.
The High Command had dismissed any possibilities of their rival nations influencing this. After all Noxus and the other city-states were under the protection and guidance of the Institute of War with any and all battles to be fought upon the Fields of Justice. The Grand General, with a few of his generals, felt as if they had walked into an enemy’s trap and anxiously waited for the ambush. So within the War Room the generals waited, sitting around a carved map of Runeterra.
The anticipated alarm sounded a few hours later. The Grand General lifted his head and looked at the generals that had gathered around him. He gave them a slight nod, the signal for them to act. They filed out of the room with their High General staying behind and toying with the piece of the map that sat as the symbol for Noxus.
Just beyond the entrance to their keep the guardsmen were patrolling their usual rounds. The rain pelted them mercilessly as lightning briefly lit dark stone. Despite their training the men could feel chills rolling down their spine. One of the guards felt the chill of death growing colder as he wound the exterior of the castle. He waved his lantern over the ledge as if trying to spot the origins of the unearthly sensation that haunted him. He turned away from the edge and stared deeply into the shadows of an abandoned doorway. Lightning flashed revealing the presence of a beautiful face.
Before the guardsman could say anything a clawed hand reached from the darkness and wrapped around his throat. Taking a few steps forward she easily tossed the man into the ravine below. On the other side of the embankment she heard two more guards being dispatched. From either side of the dimly lit doorway came two faces that should never have been in the heart of Noxus.
“Sejuani,” said the first, her dress and decrepit wings fluttering in the wind.
“Morganna,” said her colleague above her boar’s grunting.
“I believe there is a party inside, shall we join them?” Morganna grinned.
“Indeed,” Sejuani said hesitantly, unwilling to trust her ally.
With little effort Sejuani commanded Bristle to barrel through the door, splintering the thick wood as if were straw. Inside the main hall they found themselves in the midst of a battle being masked by the ferocity of the rain and wind outside. Both Morganna and Sejuani found themselves fighting alongside allies they have only shared the Fields of Justice with. Each of them had been promised something in return for their services, for their allegiance and with the Institute of War limiting just that, they had each decided that this was definitely the more rewarding route.
The large, undead man heard shouts come from the other side followed by the arrival of one of his old colleagues. He grunted at the man who was part machine, part something else entirely. With little effort the two barreled through the wood and iron doors that led into the main hall of the High Command. Together they entered the fray that was already unfolding inside.
It was a strange and unexpected sight for both sides of the conflict. Each of the invaders had been promised something more than what they could have ever achieved within the restraints of the Institute of War. Although each had been promised something different in return for their service, their allegiance, and some needed more convincing than others, there they were banded together fighting for a cause that was not their own and for the rewards that potentially be bestowed upon them. Such is what bonded the strange force that comprised of the two that had just entered, Diana and Syndra and those that had taken the fight further inside.
In the central corridor Darius was now fighting a foe he had never expected to be facing in the Noxian halls. He had ran into the intruder at this spot some time ago and has since been trading blows with the relentless Renekton. The two clashed, leapt back and then clashed again. Axe to blade, the two butted heads.
“How did you get here, serpent?” Darius roared.
“The same way you will be leaving this place,” Renekton snapped at his opponent. “Through the bowels.”
Darius pushed against his foe, toppling the surprised Renekton. As he landed on his back Darius was readying the killing blow. Before he could deliver something sharp dug into his side, causing him to fall to one knee. He pulled out the blade and growled in recognition. As he lifted up to confront the new arrival he only met the wall after being slammed into it. As Darius fell unconscious his last sight was watching Renekton flee further into the castle with Sion and Urgot following at his heels.
Some time later the battle had moved far from the main room where three figures emerged. They gracefully navigated through main hall and corridors, passing over the fallen. One of them muttered prayers under his breath as the one on the far side tallied their casualties. They passed over several recognizable faces that groaned and twitched in agony or were all but on death’s doorstep. After several minutes they arrived at the archway that led into the High Command’s war room. They sat outside for a few moments as they listened to the voices coming from the room.
“What an odd force we have here,” came the Grand General’s monotone voice. “Diana, Heretic of the Solari. Renekton, the corrupted Gatekeeper. Morganna, exile of a far world. Sejuani, I can understand and Syndra, seeking more power. Sion and Urgot, I can truly say that I am surprised with you. You both served Noxus in life, only to betray it in death?”
“We still serve,” came Sion’s dulling boom.
“Oh, do you?” Swain mused. “How is killing your comrades and murdering your generals lead to serving?”
As he spoke the large doors creaked open. Two of the ones that had been escorting their leader emerged. Swain raised a brow in recognizing these two as well. One was a self-exiled general, an old friend of his. The other was a young and well respected officer of the High Command. At the sight of the two it finally dawned on him, only to be confirmed as the third person took her place between them.
“I expected this day would come but not this soon,” Swain sighed. “Hello, Tempest.”
“Hello, Father. Have you kept my seat warm?”