I have no explanation for Kennen's "new" lore...

There existz a ancient order originatin up up in tha Ionian Islez dedicated ta tha preservation of balizzle. Order, chaos, light, darknizz -- all thangs must exist up up in slick harmony fo' such is tha way of tha universe. This order is known as tha Kinkou n' it employs a triumvirate of shadow warriors ta uphold itz causes up up in tha ghetto. Right back up up in yo mutha****in ass. Y'all KNOW dat ****, mutha****a, mutha****a! Kennen is one of these shadow warriors, entrusted wit tha sacred duty of Coursin tha Sun - tirelessly conveyin tha justice of tha Kinkou.
Kennen started doin thangs up up in Bandle Citizzle n' it aint nuthin but holla'd dat up up in his wild lil' first livin momentz he bolted first from tha womb n' second from tha midho whoz ass served up his crazy-ass mutha****in ass yo yo. His muthafathas had thought dat he would outgrow his boundless juice yo yo, but as he matured, his wild lil' ****in juice found no limitz n' was matched only by his unnervin speed. Y'all KNOW dat ****, mutha****a! Y'all KNOW dat ****, mutha****a, mutha****a! Despite his cold-ass thugged-out astonishin gifts, he remained unnoticed (or at least uncaught, as he was like tha prankster) until, on a thugged-out dare, he ran straight up tha pimped up outa wall of tha Placidium. When word of dis feat reached Kinkou ears, Kennen was quickly n' on tha ****in' down-lowly brought fo' a cold-ass lil crew yo. Dude found dat tha role of tha Heart of tha Tempest suited him, frenetically deliverin both tha word n' tha punishmentz of tha Kinkou across tha realm yo. Dude now works wit his wild lil' fellows Akali n' Shen ta enforce tha balizzle of Valoran. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. This hallowed pursuit has unsurprisingly led tha triumvirate ta tha Fieldz of Justice.


- "Da Heart of tha Tempest beatz eternal... n' em beaten remember eternally."

Fiora, Demacia’s most notorious duelist, earned her hype wit her sharp blade n' sharper tongue. Right back up in yo mutha****in ass. Biatch boastz tha refinement of a aristocratic upbranging, n' a gangbangin' fierce devotion ta tha perfection of her craft yo. Havin surpassed her peers at home, Fiora now seeks pimped outa foes. Right back up in yo mutha****in ass. Biatch will settle fo' not a god damn thang less than tha ghetto’s acknowledgement of her mastery.
As tha lil'est lil pimp of Doggy Den Laurent, a gangbangin' gang known fo' itz long line of elite duelists, Fiora considered her mutha****in ass destined fo' pimped outness. Right back up in yo mutha****in ass. Biatch longed ta match tha sbust a cap up in of her father, a legendary slyricsman, n' her talent quickly surpassed dat of her siblings. Fiora’s peers perceived her confidence as arrogizzle yo, but her ass dismissed them, strivin even harder ta become a worthy successor ta her daddy yo. Her devotion turned up ta be misplaced. Y'all KNOW dat ****, mutha****a! On tha eve of a arranged duel, authoritizzles caught Fiora’s daddy slippin a paralysis poison tha **** into his opponent’s drink yo. His treachery destroyed tha family’s reputation, n' Fiora’s own honor fell under question. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Outraged n' desperate ta clear her name, her ass challenged her daddy ta a thugged-out duel. Though he fought wit juice n' style, Fiora realized tha playa had long forgotten tha discipline dat defined a true duelist. Right back up in yo mutha****in ass. Biatch disarmed him, n' wit her blade ta his chest, her ass demanded control of Doggy Den Laurent yo. Her daddy surrendered yo, but even up in victory, Fiora knew tha shadow of doubt still tainted her reputation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Intent ta seize her destiny, Fiora vows ta surpass her father’s false legacy n' prove dat her ass aint only tha top billin duelist up in Demacia - but all of Valoran.

"I came here seekin a cold-ass lil challenge-is dis tha dopest these fools can offer me?"
―Fiora

I had a real laugh riot reading this

Unlike his brutha Darius, victory up in battle was never enough fo' Draven. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude craved recognition, acclaim, n' glory yo. Dude first sought pimped outnizz up in tha Noxian military yo, but his wild lil' flair fo' tha dramatic went severely underappreciated. Y'all KNOW dat ****, mutha****a! Thirstin fo' a method ta share ''Draven'' wit tha ghetto, he turned his thugged-out attention ta tha prison system. There he carved up tha celebritizzle he desired by turnin tha tedious affair of executions tha **** into a premiere spectacle.

At Dravenz first execution, he shocked onlookers when he ordered tha doomed prisona ta run fo' dear life. Just before tha playa managed ta flee from sight, Draven brought his ass down wit a gangbangin' flawless throw of his thugged-out axe. Right back up in yo mutha****in ass. Soon, all Dravenz executions became a gauntlet all up in which Noxian prisoners raced fo' a gangbangin' final chizzle at thuglife yo. Dude used dis trial as his own underground stage, n' turned executions tha **** into a leadin form of entertainment yo. Dude rallied onlookers tha **** into a gangbangin' frenzy, while desperate prisoners scrambled ta evade his mutha****in ass. They never succeeded. Y'all KNOW dat ****, mutha****a! Rejectin tha solemn, black uniformz of Noxian executioners Draven donned bright outfitz n' pimped flashy signature moves ta distinguish his dirty ass. Crowdz flocked ta peep Draven up in action, n' talez of his thugged-out lil' performizzlez spread doggystyle fo' realz. As his thugged-out lil' popularitizzle grew, so did his thugged-out already-inflated ego yo. Dude belonged all up in tha centa of attention. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Before long, tha scope of his thugged-out ambitions outgrew tha population of Noxus yo. Dude decided dat tha glorious exploitz of Draven should be put on display fo' tha entire ghetto. Right back up in yo mutha****in ass.

'' 'Da best' is wherever I decizzle ta set tha bar each day.''
-- Draven

Unlike other foxes dat roamed tha woodz of southern Ionia, Ahri had always felt a strange connection ta tha magical ghetto around her; a cold-ass lil connection dat was somehow incomplete. Deep inside, her ass felt tha skin her ass had been born tha **** into was a ill fit fo' her n' dreamt of one dizzle becomin human. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Her goal seemed forever outta reach, until her ass happened upon tha wake of a human battle. It was a grisly scene, tha land obscured by tha formz of wounded n' dyin soldiers. Right back up in yo mutha****in ass. Biatch felt drawn ta one: a robed playa encircled by a wanin field of magic whose thuglife was quickly slippin away. Right back up in yo mutha****in ass. Biatch approached his ass n' somethang deep inside of her triggered, reachin up ta tha playa up in a way her ass couldn't understand. Y'all KNOW dat ****, mutha****a! His thuglife essence poured tha **** into her, carried on invisible strandz of magic. Da sensation was intoxicatin n' overwhelmin fo' realz. As her reverie faded, her ass was delighted ta discover dat her ass had chizzled. Y'all KNOW dat ****, mutha****a! Her sleek white fur had receded n' her body was long n' lithe - tha shape of tha humans whoz ass lay scattered bout her mutha****in ass.

But **** dat shizzle yo, tha word on tha street is dat though her ass rocked up human, her ass knew dat up in truth tha transformation was incomplete fo' realz. A cunnin creature, her ass adapted her mutha****in ass ta tha customz of human society n' used her profound gift of beauty ta attract unsuspectin men. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo mutha****in ass. Biatch could consume they thuglife essences when they was under tha spell of her seductizzle charms. Feedin on they desires brought her closer ta her dream yo, but as her ass took mo' lives, a strange sense of regret ****in started ta well within her mutha****in ass. Right back up in yo mutha****in ass. Biatch had reservations bout actions which never ****d her as a gangbangin' fox. Right back up in yo mutha****in ass. Biatch realized dat her ass could not overcome tha pangz of her evolvin morality. In search of a solution, Ahri found tha Institute of War, home of da most thugged-out gifted mages on Runeterra. They offered her a cold-ass lil chizzle ta attain her humanitizzle without further harm all up in steez up in tha League of Legends.

''Mercy be a human luxury... n' responsibility.''
-- Ahri

Oh god why ;~;

There be a gangbangin' form of magic unknown ta nuff Runeterrans n' discredited by tha few whoz ass is even aware of itz existence. It be tha magic of tha earth, drawin juice from tha resonizzle of crystals n' gems. Taric, tha Gem Knight, is Runeterraz sole practitioner of dis form of magic, havin been erratically summoned ta Runeterra from a gangbangin' faraway ghetto. Right back up in yo mutha****in ass. Y'all KNOW dat ****, mutha****a! Back home, Taricz daddy was a thugged-out distinguished heala up in they home hood. Taric was always horny bout his wild lil' fatherz pursuits, even from a lil' age. Despite his burgeonin understandin of herbs, plants, n' animal medicines, it was tha juice of gems dat most fascinizzled tha growin boy. It wasn't long before Taric had exhausted his wild lil' fatherz coveted library n' set up on a path of his own. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude wanted ta help tha gangstas yo, but not by simply salvin they woundz n' curin they woes yo. Dude wasn't ta be a heala yo, but a thugged-out defender - one whoz ass used tha juice of earth ta preserve n' protect.

Taric became a wanderin knight, renowned across his homeland as a guardian of tha just until tha dizzle a spell of summonin grabbed his ass from his home n' deposited his ass on Runeterra. Though disoriented n' trippin at first, he now feels dat tha continent of Valoran is up in need of some mutha****a like his mutha****in ass. Despite missin his homeland, Taric be aiiight ta fight up in tha League, servin as a protector fo' all whoz ass seek one yo. His neat n' stylish appearizzle combined wit his shiny bejeweled armor n' weapons have rapidly done cooked up his ass a cold-ass lil celebritizzle champion of tha League of Legends. Valoranz media, fo' some reason, has taken a pimped out interest up in his thugged-out lil' underground life. While open bout his thuglife as a cold-ass lil champion n' gracious up in all thangs, Taric is tight-lipped bout his thuglife outside tha League n' prefers his thugged-out lil' privacy.

As Taricz daddy taught him, every last mutha****in stone has itz meaning. For Taricz enemies, they all mean ****.


Taric wins.

"To most, thoughtz of yordlez do not conjure images ta be feared. Y'all KNOW dat ****, mutha****a! Da easy as **** goin half-pint race, though fierce, is often regarded wit some degree of joviality. Their high-pitched voices n' naturally cute forms inspire somethang of a protectizzle instinct up in tha larger races, and at least brang ta mind imagez of lil pimps playin at bein adults. Every now n' again, however, a yordle turns so bad dat even at itz lil' small-ass stature it strikes terror tha **** into tha heartz of others. Veigar is one such twisted yordle fo' realz. As a masta of tha magical black arts, as well as a cold-ass lil corrupter of cosmic juice, he is one of da most thugged-out bangin sorcerers on Valoran.

As a cold-ass lil child, Veigar was a normal yordle wit one lil' small-ass exception - he had a thugged-out deep curiositizzle fo' tha ghetto beyond Bandle City. Da lil' yordle spent much of his cold-ass time studyin tha rest of Valoran, n' he jumped all up in tha chizzle ta join a funky-ass bidnizz dat traded wit other major hood-states. Unfortunately fo' both his ass n' tha ghetto, a thugged-out deal wit Noxian trader turned tha **** into shady bidnizz n' went bad; Veigar n' his companions was subsequently set up ta take tha fall fo' realz. Arrested by tha authorities, he was imprisoned within tha wallz of Noxus fo' years. Right back up in yo mutha****in ass. Such isolation is straight-up dangerous fo' yordlez - undoubtedly why his wack jailaz did such a mutha****in thang - n' Veigar was slowly driven mad.

Dude eventually escaped, havin become a twisted version of his wild lil' forma self. Instead of returnin ta his thugged-out lil' gangstas n' Bandle City, he sought tutelage from dark wizardz across tha land. Y'all KNOW dat ****, mutha****a! With his ****in lil' demented will focused on one task, he quickly became a thugged-out dangerous n' bangin wizard up in his own mutha****in right. Now he seeks ta end all conflict on Valoran by brangin all of tha hood-states ta they knees, regardlesz of they affiliation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da League of Legendz is tha slick tool ta help his ass hook up his wild lil' ****in endz - fo' now, nahmeean?

Who says evil needz ta come up in a gangbangin' fearsome-lookin package?"

Cosmic Juice. Okay.