War. War stays the same. Since the dawn of yordle kind, when the ancient ones first discovered the killing power of blowguns and boomerangs, blood has been spilled in the name of everyone thinking they can take out the little guys.
Evening sunlight danced through the canopy, and in the grove’s center lay a crystal- clear pond filled with water lilies. River Spirit Nami sat at its heart, her emerald mane of hair framing a wide smile on her pale face.
A mechanical claw erupts at her ironclad feet, tearing through the dirt towards the rebels cowering before her. Those fortunate enough to survive her gambit find their solace cut short as Lissandra teleports into their midst, beautiful and terrible in all her glory.