Battlefields were never a pretty sight. Noxus was a nation notorious for war, for fighting, death and destruction. However no amount of training, preparation and stories could prepare any single soldier of Noxus for being ready for what they witnessed out in the shores of the enemy nation, Ionia.
Noxus coveted lands that Ionia owned, and they made a bid for them in the most brutal of invasions. Word spread quickly amongst the rank and file of Noxus that the invasions were going without much resistance, and the fate of those who did resist mostly revolved around being overrun and executed swiftly. Where Noxian soldiers marched they left a trail of destruction , like a scar in Ionia's otherwise beautiful lands. Not only did they leave their mark on Ionian soil, but they brought with them the most miserable of Noxian weather. Heavy torrential rain turned beautiful green grass into fields of mud, and where battles took place, the corpses of the proud Ionians littered the muddy fields of war.
One Noxian troop marched through the lands of Ionia. Troop morale as low as they slugged through think mud, the sounds of armour rattling, and the occasional murmur from a soldier as if their surroundings sucked the discipline from them, as well as drained their lust for battle.
"I hear even The Mad Chemist is here" uttered one particularly fatigued soldier to his adjacent companion. The hooded figure head of the troop paused for a second, turning their head they looked directly at the soldier who had made such idle chatter.
"Whether he is here or not is of no concern of ours. We're here to fight for Noxus just like everyone else, a Soldier should never be so easily distracted. It would give our enemy the edge." The voice was soft, but at the same time, it held a deep-seated determination, and just emanated inner strength. It came from the Noxian prodigy, Riven. A strong woman who had made a name for herself through her passionate belief of Noxian ideals, that, and her ability to wield a marvellous blade. A blade that most people struggled to wield with two hands she held proudly with one.
She, wore an astonishing set of armour, a bright shining steel with Turquoise leggings. Not unseen amongst the rank and file of Noxian soldiers. Many of them donned the Turqoise, although the sheer amount of mud made it hard to see any colour other than the darkest of browns.
"With all due respect, Ma'am..." The soldier replied in a manner that did reflect his respect, so as not to come across as insubordinate "The muddy grounds we walk through are littered with the corpses of our foes. What edge could they possibly gain now?"
The soldier never had a chance to regret those words. A loud cry, one of battle, one not seldom heard in war rang out, one of the "corpses" nearby to the soldier sprang to his feet. A familiar sound of steel piercing flesh as the soldier barely had time to ponder what happened before his life met it's swift end. The Ionian who struck the killing blow was immediately cut down by the fallen's comrade, and the panicked Noxians found themselves sitting ducks in a well-planned Ionian assault.
Riven's mind was blown by this ambush, the Ionians were always known as a nation of peace, this is why Noxus saw them as easy prey. But what Riven witnessed as not only military genius, but just sheer hatred. That these Ionian soldiers led in filth with the corpses of their fallen comrades for this ambush. Riven saw just how strong their hatred for Noxus was, this close to battle, this personal, she could feel the hate swelling as if it suffocated every Noxian soldier. Their eyes, their cries. The harsh reality of the war revealed as the Noxians who had marched through so arrogantly now looked to be the lambs to the slaughter.
Riven could not ponder this fact. Her mind, that of a commander sprung into action, she did what she could to fend off the attackers, surprising Ionian and Noxian alike with her prowess even at the receiving end of an ambush.
She reformed what members of the troop had survived, into a tight knit formation. It was much too little much too late. Even in this circular formation, the Noxians were completely surrounded and outmatched. Riven saw no other option that to kill as many as she could and fall here, clinging to her heart that one Noxian belief that shone above all others. Words she muttered too herself, as if it gave her some for of solstice.
"Only the strong survive..."
She did not fear death, and she faced her foe with pride, "Only the strong survive" she once again repeated to herself. She thought proudly, the enemy had earned this victory. In a war where they had been crushed by the Zaunite war machine, they had earned this victory and deserved the life of every Noxian they now had surrounded.
Shouts filled the air, each Noxian fought bravely under Riven's command, and took as many Ionian's as they could, but one by one they were falling. That was when everything changed. In a way far greater than Riven could have ever imagined.
A maniacal laughter filled the battlefield, one so chilling to the bone it actually managed to momentarily stop the conflict. Riven could see the notorious figure of the aforementioned Mad Chemist, Singed. He had another machine with him, one unlike anything Riven had seen before. At first she thought they'd been saved. She could not have been more wrong.
The machines unleashed a deadly chemical barrage, just the nature of the Mad Chemist to do such an act, it was toxic and it spread in great clouds. The roar of battle had all but died, Shouts of battle replaced with screams of terror, and the sounds of metal clashing now replaced with coughing, spluttering and choking. It was indiscriminate, it slew Noxian and Ionian alike.
Riven's fight or flight mechanic kicked in, she could not combat such a weapon, as astonished as she was to see her own men slain by someone she presumed an ally she could not help but flee. Coughing she gasped for air, hoping the clouds of toxic had not affected her enough to bring her down with the rest of the brave men who fell. She ran, she wanted to be as far away from the site of this act of horror as possible. She ran and she ran, gasping for air. She stopped only when the ground made her, her right foot sinking too far into the mud she fell forward, hitting the soft ground with a thud. Mud coating itself on her, intergrating with the blood of the battle she fought.
Her blade, enchanted by the High Command lay at the ground beside her. As she brought herself to sit upright, she could only stare at it. She thought not of being in enemy land, or being in a war. She merely turned to her own nature, her own beliefs and for the first time since joining the Noxian military, she found herself overcome with uncertainty and doubt.
"Only the strong survive" once again entered her mind, but it was no longer followed with an overwhelming surge of pride, but now doubt and disappointment. The Ionians should have won, should should be dead. They were strong... but... they did not survive.
Riven could not bring herself to have the same pride she held but an hour ago, and looking at her blood stained uniform, she begun to question everything she'd ever known, even herself.
She had so many questions to ask, but she knew not who to ask them to, or even, if they had an answer.