Dear Miss Riven,
I was once a fighter in that God forsaken battleground they call The Fleshing. It all began when I was a little boy, hiding outside the great cities with my father. We were a simple family, nothing special about me, but something was strange about my father. I would often catch him practising with a very strange looking sword. Long, curved and jagged... Cruel looking thing, but the way he weilded it made it look like the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, such power and grace.... One day I was spying on him while he practised, when I heard this blood curling roar. From behind me came a large furry creature, vaguely wolf-like in nature. The thing took a swipe at me with blinding speed and sent me reeling to the side and landed in a heap, blood flowing from a gash along my chest. Most of the fight I spent struggling to move and run, but something kept me rivitted to the spot... Fear maybe... I remember seeing my father standing infront of me, protecting me from this thing, then it all went black as I passed out. When I came to the beast was dead, impaled in the chest with the sword, but... So was my father... Ever since that day I trained like he did, mastering the blade. Learning from what I saw my father doing... It was a day like any other, practising with my blade. When I was ambushed by Noxians... When I had came to I was being dragged into this large arena looking thing, the stench of blood and death was strong. They threw me inside and closed a metal gate behind me, leaving me my sword. Well im going to skip past all that and get to the point, I killed about 13 men, some looked like seasoned fighters, some farmhands. Well by that time I had managed to trick one of the guards to letting me out of the ring for a moment. I killed him and managed to barely escape with my life. Ever since then I have sworn to kill every Noxian ******* alive, and make them suffer at the hands of death. Feel the steel of my blade, "Harbinger". But then I met you... It was during a battle in which I had joined the side opposing the Noxians, bandits, outlaws. I seen you across the field swinging your sword with such grace and beauty, it reminded me of my father.... We met in battle, but only for a few seconds. With a quick slash and a parry we engaged eachother, a look of surprise in your eyes when I blocked your sword and made a fast counter and slashed you across the chest. But quickly that look was replaced by a black abyss, death is all I saw... My death... With a lunge you had struck me down, clean through my stomach. Or so you thought. When I saw your blade coming I had moved at the last second and managed to divert most the damage, but you still struck my side tearing me open. I fell to the ground bleeding profusely from my wound, slowly losing conciousness. When I came to all I could think about was you, Riven. And how you weilded that sword of yours so gracefully and precise, power and passion all combined into swing after deadly swing. My father had a wife and a daughter once, she was born with white hair, just like yours. But they were separated a long time ago, I know not why but that my father never gave up the hope he would find her one day. My question to you is, are we related... Could you be my sister I lost...? Im sorry for such a long letter Miss Riven but I felt you needed to know some of my past so maybe it could help you piece together our possible kinship.
Thankyou for taking time to read this, I hope you reply soon.
Sincerely, Sir Raevan
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