Once again, the moon rises over a shaded grove; the shrouded facade of an ancient temple looms above the treeline, promising secrets and lost power. A small, round form chews pensively on a stalk of bamboo, watching as the inevitable conflict comes to a head.
As always, bound by code and sacred vow, they toil in the shadows. A battle of wits and wicked weapons, veiled by an ancient art, breaks out.
The first to show her deadly blades steps out from the darkness, her kama glittering with a luminescent sheen.
Silverfang Akali. Ok. 487 RP
Her challenger emerges, his sword held at the ready and his feet spread in a battle stance.
Ionia Master Yi. Yeh. 487 RP
No stranger to either of the duelists already awaiting the cry of combat, the third stalks around the grove, unwilling to show her presence.
Nightblade Irelia. Alright. 260 RP
The fight breaks out, but almost instantly a glow surrounds one of the two warriors. From nowhere, another combatant joins the fray.
Shen. Yeah. 395 RP
Electrical surges charge the air as the three whirl and spin, flashes of silver and the whisper of slashing blades echoing in the night. Rippling strikes of lightning circle the fighters, lighting up the sky with the azure glow of crackling bolts.
Kennen. Hmm. 440 RP
A whistling sound in the night heralds the arrival of a last warrior. Cradling a roaring ancient golem in a sphere of eternal darkness, a mage interferes with the conflict in a resounding crash.
Syndra. Right. 487 RP
Their battle interrupted, the shadow-clad champions disperse, vanishing into the night.
The secrets of the temple secure, the rotund form groans. He is sure they'll all return. The ancient power within will remain in danger from April 12 to April 15. After that, no one can say.