As promised, I, Ram Steed, have braved the very depths of insanity, the darkest places of the League of Legends, to bring you an exclusive interview with the mysterious and deadly Shaco, the world's first fully-functioning homicidal comic. Though the idea has chilled me to the very bone, I have searched down many dark alleys to finally find the Demon Jester and convince him to answer the questions that burn in your very souls!
And he agreed. Ten questions. No more, no less.
I go now, hoping that this will be the illuminating experience we all wish… and not my obituary.
Wish me luck.
Ram: “Thank you for agreeing to this interview, Shaco. It's an honor.”
Shaco: [Sits quietly. Grins. Cleans fingernails with sharp-looking stiletto.]
Shaco: “I am not from this world. Your summoners brought me forth from a world of shadows, a place that makes your Runeterra look like a child's birthday party. Isn't that one of the stories? Or perhaps I am simply an assassin gone wrong, wandering Runeterra and perpetrating my Killing Joke on those who are most assured to get the punchline. That is another exciting tale of my origins.”
[Shaco carves one hash into the wooden table with his stiletto.]
Ram: “There are those who believe you to be the manifestation of humanity's dark urges. In the Runeterra of today, that is not out of the question. What do you have to say to that?”
Shaco: “Would you like me to be? Would that make you feel better about the part of you that thrills at the lives I end? [pause] Like a magician, I never reveal my secrets.”
[Shaco carves another hash into the wooden table with his stiletto.]
Ram: “Could you tell us what your childhood was like?”
Shaco: “I'm still a child. On the inside. Can't you tell? I love to play.”
Ram: “Your name is an anagram of chaos. Is that intentional?”
Shaco: “A Shaco by any other name would still spill blood. Intentional or not, it fits, no?”
[Shaco carves a third and fourth hash into the wooden table with his stiletto.]
Ram: “There are some people who regard you as a role-model. What do you think of this?”
Shaco: “I don't like competition.”
[A fifth hash is carved.]
Ram: “You seem to have developed a following with the ladies. How has that changed your life?”
Shaco: “I'm an equal opportunity killer. You could say I go both ways.”
[Shaco carves a sixth hash into the wooden table with his stiletto.]
Ram: “You definitely have your very own finely crafted sense of humor. What's your favorite joke these days?”
Shaco: “What do people and books have in common? Wherever they're opened, they're red.”
[Shaco chuckles and carves a seventh hash.]
Ram: “Your enigmatic nature is part of your appeal for many people. However, do you have one great adventure you could share?”
Shaco: “Once upon a time, there was a fancy noble in the city-state of Noxus. He was a wretched man, the kind of person that had done nearly ever underhanded thing of which one can think. However, he was an indulgent husband and father. He was someone who would appreciate the punchline, so it was obvious that he needed my Killing Joke. First, I tickled his wife's funny bone. She split open with laughter. Then, I took his oldest son for a romp on the merry-go-round. He loved it so much he never wanted to leave. Then, I delivered jack-in-the-boxes as presents to his youngest daughter and infant son. 'Pop!' went the Shaco, fondly finding his way deep into their hearts. The noble himself? No joy for him. However, certainly did get the punchline.”
Ram: “What happened to him?”
Shaco: “He tried to play on a rope swing using his own neck.”
[The Demon Jester breaks out into maniacal laughter. It takes him a few minutes to calm down. Ram shifts uncomfortably.]
Shaco: “Two left. Better make them good.”
Ram: “The legal gray areas that surround the League of Legends have given you the ability to function openly, and even become a celebrity. However, you are wanted for murder by the authorities in nearly every city-state in Valoran. How do you reconcile the two seemingly at odds lifestyles?”
Shaco: [A menace grows in his eyes.] “I don't like the authorities and I don't think I like that question.”
[Ram barely keeps himself in his chair.]
Ram: “Umm… okay… moving on. Last question, then. There are claims that a high-ranking member of the League has established a relationship with you and that you've been seen together on a number of occasions. Can you confirm or deny this?”
[Shaco stares. He stands up slowly, stiletto in hand.]
Shaco: “Why so serious?”
Ram Steed was found two blocks from where he conducted this interview. He had been stabbed multiple times, the stiletto sticking out of his chest with a note that read, “An eye inside Ram Steed.” He was immediately rushed to the nearest healer. Given the severity of his wounds, he has not yet regained consciousness and indeed may not. Our thoughts are with him.
We will keep you apprised of his condition. In the mean time, please send any well wishes to the usual place and we will make sure that his friends and family receive them.
Relations between Bandle City and Bilgewater have always been a bit dodgy -- mostly on account of a few bad apples that really ought not to be flying our proud colors high. Of course, after this last little tiff, it’s unlikely I’ll be making my seasonal deliveries simply on account of my particular anchorage.
Here’s the chant. A barmy bloke by the name of Tiresias Ellington decided that he ought to be captain of a little vessel called the Annabelle Nidalee. Trouble is, this sloop already had a guvnor, and not one you’d want to trifle with at that. You see, Mad Jack Foulweather had been a terror of the high seas for over 20 years. It’s been said that he once stared down the late, great Captain Vincent -- father of the famed pirate Gangplank -- after a dispute following a game of Liar’s Dice! It’s been said he once killed a man with nothing but a teacup after the poor bloke snatched the last biscuit at brunch! It’s been said he once hung a man from the yardarm just for implying that he looked a bit dandy in stripes!
But I digress. Suffice to say, the Old Captain wasn’t about to take this one lying down. When he saw those mutants coming, he barricaded himself up in the crew’s mess. Ellington lost nearly twenty hands trying to make it through the door and nab Old Jack. Not a bad showing for a sailor coming up fast on being middle aged if I do say so myself. So after this little scuffle, Ellington managed to carry Foulweather up on deck and tip him over into the briny. Of course, by this time old Jack had set fire to the Annabelle’s store of Myron’s Dark Rum!
So there he was -- Tiresias Ellington, Captain of the Annabelle Nidalee; leader of a gaggle of scurvy mutineers with not a drop of grog to his name. As you can imagine, this left the New Old Captain of the Annie in a bit of a pinch. After all, there’s nary a worse fate to befall anyone far from port than for the rum to run dry. So what does the blighter do? He decides he ought to nip booze off
the next vessel that passes between him and the horizon.
Now, if it’d been any other vessel, maybe that would’ve been fine. Maybe it would have been nothing to write home about, let alone an article in the premier news publication for the whole of Valoran. What makes this particular happenstance newsworthy is just who Ellington happened to rip off. As serendipity would have it, this was a yordle ship, and not just any yordle ship. This particular merchant vessel was on her way to Demacia for a lovely bit of pompous circumstance.
Not that that mattered to Ellington in even the slightest. You see, after he’s put the yordle crew off in the lifeboats, he and his men took to sacking the place looking for the ship’s stock of booze. And what should they find after tossing a few crates of streamers and party hats overboard but a hold full of fine Red Rocket Ale and Mothership Porter, some of the finest brews in all of Valoran.
Trouble is, this wasn’t just any beer tanker. This particular shipment was on its way to a celebration commemorating Poppy, the Iron Ambassador’s appointment to service as envoy between Demacia and the yordles. And the shorties weren’t exactly planning on letting this little incident go. A special task force of Bandle City Scouts and Megling Commandos, led by none other than League Champions Teemo and Tristana themselves, was dispatched forthwith to see to the situation.
Of course, on overtaking the Annabel Nidalee, what should this formidable fighting force find but a pack of drunkards too off it to even notice a warship coming up off their starboard. Unfortunately, by this time their merchandise had either been imbibed or tossed over into the ocean, rendering the yordles more than a little sour at their captives. They’re currently appealing to the League of Legends to solicit reparations from Bilgewater for the loss of the goods, along with spoiling their anniversary plans. Bilgewater’s stance, of course, is that they aren’t responsible for the actions of a few independent sailors.
After a lengthy evaluation, the League has begun renovations on Summoner’s Rift. Crews of yordles and humans alike are being commissioned to analyze and improve every inch of the battlefield, including re-landscaping and improving encampments for indigenous creatures.
This move comes following a growing list of complaints from high profile champions over past months. The discontent began last August with Garen, who expressed frustration in the adjudication wings after a particularly tough battle: “Justice cannot be served from tired and limp foliage. The brush is just not as springy and lush as it used to be.”
Since Garen’s remarks, several other champions have filed official requests for evaluations of everything from the way that the light illuminates the battleground to personal wardrobes. “With my new look lately, some have mistaken me for Pantheon,” says League Champion and Seneschal of Demacia, Xin Zhao. “I need the look of my armaments to make it clear that I’m not anything like that arrogant barbarian.”
Despite the increasing number of complaints, there is little actual evidence of deterioration shown by recent surveys. The magical properties that regenerate Summoner’s Rift over time do not appear to be diminishing.
Geoffery Ju, Master Summoner in charge of battle arena preservation and improvement, made this statement: “It’s all troll dung. The magical foundations that preserve the Fields are bloody perfect. I put them there myself! Any perception
of wear and tear is nothing but that—perception, and false to boot.”
He further commented, “I do know that even yonkeys get tired of plodding the same road over and over. Therefore, I am personally coordinating a full renovation of not only the fields themselves, but an updated style for our champions as well. Kids want shiny, we’ll give ‘em shiny.”
This statement from Ju was the critical endorsement lynchpin that spurred action among Summoner’s Rift groundskeepers. In addition, the announcement of an upgrade to champion wardrobes is a welcome surprise to many fans. The champions have been excitedly visiting the Institute of War to undergo fitting for new gear and clothing.
“The League giving everyone makeovers is truly exciting,” commented Taric, the Gem Knight, after emerging from the League tailor shop. “We’ve all been abiding to last season’s fashion like it’s a law somewhere. Red is clearly out. It’s now ruby for vigor!”
Also, rumors have leaked from some sources close to the project that new League employees are being hired to take over the weapons shop.
Ju commented regarding the new hires: “Do you ever have those jobs where there is that guy who has been there forever, and you’re not sure what he really does anymore? That’s the way we feel about our current shopkeeper—which is why we’re gonna move his desk over to weapons storage. Now, the new couple coming in is adorable, and I’m sure the champions will love ‘em.”
No word yet on who the newcomers are.
With the memory of the great Ionia-Noxus rematch fading from the forefront of our minds, we return once again to the mailbag to see what summoners have on their minds now.
“Has there been any investigation as to if Amumu is the victim of a Noxian experiment in Necromancy, perhaps hidden in a lab in the Shurima Desert? If so, it would appear to have failed, seeing as how Amumu is not in the least bit evil. Is there any hope of finding out his past?” – Xulsigae
This is interesting speculation, Xulsigae, although I have some reason to believe that Noxus would view it as an “unfounded accusation”. To date, no investigation has been undertaken on Noxian soil pertaining to Amumu’s origins. It’s possible that there may be something in the Shurima Desert, but it is a vast desert that’s difficult to cover and extremely dangerous to travel through. The League discourages civilians from venturing south of the Great Barrier as entire platoons of soldiers have been lost on expeditions there.
Regarding hope for discovering his past, I thought the best answer would come from Amumu himself:
“Of course I have hope; otherwise I never would have found my way out of that pyramid. I’m still looking, and many people have helped me in more ways than I can count. I’m so grateful! One day I’ll find my parents, I know it. I just hope that when I find them, they will still want me.”
“Recent rumors spreading around Freljord claim that a tall large warrior with a spear who appears to be Pantheon climbs up to the Queen's
chamber during the night. Could this be a possible affair between the Frost Archer and the Artisan of War? If so, what could the future hold for both of them, her husband, and her Kingdom if an heir is produced not of King Tryndamere's blood?” – Guiden
These sound like the typical baseless rumors which unerringly occur after a political marriage. Queen Ashe actually spends most of her time traveling on diplomatic missions or on the Fields of Justice. If such a mysterious warrior has been seen in Freljord, he would likely be climbing up to an empty bed. However, the greatest evidence that this is fiction is the fact that we all know Pantheon is perfectly capable of man-dropping onto the balcony with a single leap; no climbing necessary.
“Watching many matches, the legendary Baron Nashor's presence has confused me. The creature is far more powerful than the average champion, to the point where it seems hard to believe he could simply be created by summoning magic as minions are. Is Nashor truly a construct, or is he something else entirely? If he isn't a construct, how has the League enlisted the aid of such a powerful and awe-inspiring creature?” – Milski
The many neutral monsters on the Fields of Justice are constructs inspired by real creatures from Runeterra. The Baron Nashor you see on the map is actually an incomplete facsimile of the true Baron Nashor, who is now the subject of myth and legend. The story goes that Baron Nashor was a ferocious worm that ruled the Serpentine River, which flows through Summoner’s Rift. He was such a fearsome and powerful beast that even the armies of Demacia and Noxus steered clear of the river, unwilling to chance an encounter with the Baron.
When Summoner’s Rift was constructed, the Baron vanished, leaving no conclusive evidence as to where he went or why he left in the first place. Obviously the rumor-mill has churned out many explanations, but all we know for sure is that the Senior Arcane Architect for the Summoner’s Rift arena was said to have crafted the version you see today from no more than a molted scale and interviews with those who had seen the beast and lived.