No one knows where they came from.

Some say they are from the Shadow Isles,

Some say that they are from the Void,

It only matters that they came.

As their gifts to this world, they bought death and desolation on a scale never seen before.

It was foreseen that another rune war would have torn the world asunder; Now we knew what that looked like.

On the horizon, the landscape was covered by a red and black cloak of death and flame.

Noxus, Demacia, Ionia; All perished under the wrath of the Dragons, until only the institute of war remained.

The survivors flocked to its gates, expanding it until it came to be what it is today, The Fortress.

As the days passed, the Dragons approached as the populace starved, with not enough land to sustain itself. When the first Dragon arrived, a Monstrous beast with scales of obsidian and wings as black as deepest dark, all those who could sallied forth to meet it. Young and old, Heroes and Commoners, Monsters and Men. Many never made it to the Fortress; Fewer still returned through its gates.

Whilst many a hero perished that day, the beast eventually fell to their onslaught, crashing to the ground. It was then that those 4 shared a spark on inspiration; They burst forth and tore away the Monsters scales, donning the Dragon's armour for themselves.

Many days later, those 4 stood high on the ramparts above us, giving their farewells. We listened in awe, not as Noxians, Not as Yordles, but as Valoranians.

They told us that they were to ride out to face the Dragons, that they would drive back the scourge.

We roared in Triumph, drunk on the knowledge that we could kill the Dragons.

With a final salute, our Finest Warriors rode to face their foe.

They were Our Dragonslayers

They were our last hope.

Vayne yanked back on the reigns to her horse, bringing it to a swift halt. It hoofed nervously at the decimated ground, as if it could sense what lay ahead. 3 more horses pulled up beside her, each of them much more muscled than her lean racer. Vayne scanned the horizon, eyes wide in horror. Her look was mirrored by her companions; They barely noticed the clatter of hooves signalling that the rest of their troop had arrived.
Ahead lay the burned hulk of a city, the scent of brimstone wafting through the air. Vayne shook her head in disbelief; She had known the city well. The once proud crest of Demacia hung above the city gate, stained with soot. The gates themselves were blown from their hinges, revealing the great main road shooting arrow straight towards the City Palace.
"God, How did it come to this?" muttered Jarvan, coaxing his horse forward.

A single "Hmph" was all the reply he got from the group. To Vayne's left, one of her companions gripped his reigns with such force that his knuckles turned white, his teeth grinding almost audibly. Under his helmet, his eyes betrayed an inner fire hotter than the breath of the Dragons he faced. His scale-coated shield hung on his right arm, his spear strapped across his back. Vayne stared in wonderment; Before the Devastation, the man beside her had been an unremarkable soldier for Ionia. It was completely beyond her how his immense combat prowess had gone unnoticed during his service; His fighting style was fast and strong, graceful and deadly. He rarely spoke, to the point that no one knew his real name. Sometime in the citadel, people had become calling him by a name. Pantheon.

A huge man slapped Pantheon's shoulder, A jovial grin shining from under his moustache. "Smile, my Friend!" he laughed, his cheery mood irrepressible.
Pantheon shrugged him off with a grunt, staring at the ruins ahead.
"Death is old friend of Braum!" said the giant, unstrapping his gigantic shield from his back. "I have told him not to come today."
"We shall see if your words hold true." Said Jarvan, grimly. "We should get going. You remember the plan, right?" he asked, turning to Vayne.
Vayne nodded slightly. "Chase the Dragon to you and down it in the town square."
"Good! Let us go!" Yelled Braum, banging a closed fist off of his chest. The four shared a glance and urged their horses forward.

The broken gates loomed like the gates to hell itself, the smell of burning and sulphur on the wind. The group silently split into two, the archers following with Vayne, the 3 warriors travelling on their own. Her horses hooves seemed to echo like explosions on the blackened stone paths; All eyes were skyward for the shadow of death. The journey went with a bright sky, undarkened by scaled wings. The base of the once mighty Demacian palace loomed in view, dominating the cityscape. Vayne raised her arm and dropped it, signalling a flurry of motion in the ranks behind her. Archers galloped off to form their crescent behind the palace, while others rode up to the base, planting their backpacks at the pillars. Vayne urged her horse into a trot, joining up with the main group of archers. Fear coursed through her like a flood, threatening to spill over. She focused, quashing her fear with pure resolve. She could not afford to show fear to the men under her command. A group of horsemen galloped over to her, breathless. "The charges… set."
Vayne nodded. "To your positions."
Her eyes steeled as she drew her huge crossbow for her back, the silver bolts ready to cut through air and flesh alike.

An explosion rang out, followed by several more in a cacophony of destruction. With a thunderous rumble, the palace buckled and bent, wounded by the blast. As if a show of its former strength, the castle remained for but a moment, crippled by the explosions and leaning at a precarious angle. A huge jet of flame burst from one of its great halls, a gigantic Azure monster bursting forth from it confines with a crash. That was more than the castle could take and it crumpled with an ear-bursting rumble, sending up a huge cloud of dust. Vayne and her men strapped their goggles over their eyes, staring into the cloud. The cloud began to stir as the huge beast flapped its wings, hovering in the sky. Vayne aimed down her sights, before releasing a bolt with a cry of "FIRE!"
A wave of bolts flew through the air, washing over the Dragon. It turned to face them, its mouth filled with a blue flame. The troop kicked their horses, urging them out of the way whilst they reloaded. With a roar, the dragon unleashed a blast of blue fire, swallowing those unlucky enough to be caught in it. When the flames faded, its victims remained where they were, frozen solid by the Dragons cold fire. "AGAIN!" screamed Vayne, another volley whistling into the air. With a roar of pain, the Dragon looped in the air and took off down the main street, its scales littered with arrows.
A cheer went up from the troop as the Dragon flew. "SILENCE! It's not over yet." Screamed Vayne commandingly, urging her horse into a gallop after the Dragon.

"FIRE AT WILL!" she yelled as they rode, loosing another silver bolt at the fleeing beast. A hail of arrows constantly crashed into the beast; still it showed no signs of weakening. The Dragon craned its neck down, firing balls of icy flame at its pursuers; Some were consumed by the frost. Vayne mind raced with Panic. They could not down the beast; The men at the end of this street did not stand a chance if the beast remained at full strength. She fired another shot, screaming defiance at the beast.

Jarvan looked on as the Dragon bore down on them, its mighty wings propelling it through the air with the force of hurricane. His mouth dried out, the blue monster showing no signs of injury, its freezing flame extinguishing the fires of life as it went. Braum walked ahead and readied his shield. He showed no signs of fear, only a slightly concerned frown. The shadow of the Dragon grew as it approached down the proverbial valley of houses, a shadow of death. A yell of fury from behind drew Jarvan's attention, spinning his head round curiously. Pantheon was crouched atop the house behind them, a scream of rage bellowing from his mouth. With a final roar, he leapt into the air with astounding force, as if he had suddenly grown wings from the dragonscales he wore. Jarvan looked on in awe as Pantheon became silhouetted against the bright sky.

Pantheon looked down at the Dragon flying towards him, far below. With a grunt of resolve, he fell downwards, pointing his spear down and grasping it with both hands. He slammed into the Dragon like a renegade meteor, his spear penetrating the joint between wing and body. With a roar of agony, the Dragon tumbled from the sky, Pantheon hanging onto the embedded spear to stay mounted. The earth shook as the Dragon hit it and slid along the paving stones, a deep moan escaping its lips. As it drew to a halt, Pantheon leapt away from the beast, the spear too deeply wedged. The Dragons mouth filled with blue flame as it reared up like a cobra, standing on its hind legs. Braum flung himself in front of Pantheon, raising his mighty shield as if it were a wall. The Dragon propelled a burst of flame, the air almost tangibly becoming colder. The blast crashed into the shield, disapating away. Jarvan closed with the beast, swinging his bladed lance as if it was a sword, the edge cutting into the Dragons scales. He deftly ducked under a chomp from its maw, keeping his balance by digging the point of the lance into the floor. He flipped the lance in his hands and drove the point deep into the Dragons neck. The beast roared a roar of distress, flinging its head side to side. Its head slammed into Jarvan, sending him sprawling in a heap at the side of the road.

Vayne rode up on the downed Dragon as it was attacked, unable to move in the relatively tight street. She watched as Jarvan was downed by the blunt force impact, his body limply crumpling. She gritted her teeth, taking aim with her crossbow. As they rode past, the men emptied a volley into the Dragons flank, the bolts finding their mark amongst the natural armour. Time almost slowed to a stop, and a fog closed in for Vayne, as if this was the last thing she'd ever do. With supernatural precision, she fired a bolt, the tip slamming onto the tiny bottom of the hilt on Jarvan's spear, driving the point in further. She reloaded quicker than ever before, placing another one square on the hilt. The Dragon growled a pitiful roar, its strength fading. A swipe of its undamaged wing battered the cavalry to the ground with a crunch. The rider next to Vayne slammed to the ground and stayed there, his neck bent at an unnatural angle. The cries of the wounded sounded as the men tried to regroup, some with splintered bones, others trapped under their horses.
With a cry of a cornered beast, the Dragon reared up again, its mouth glowing blue. With a cry of "Die, Beast!" Braum leapt at the Drake and slammed his shield onto the hilt of the lance, Driving it deep into the Dragon's head. The Dragon cried out, stumbling to stay on its feet. With a final, weak growl, it collapsed to the ground, a small cloud of dust rising up from where it fell.

Braum offered a hand to Vayne, Pulling her from her impromptu seat on the ground. "Next time, you get my back, eh?" he laughed, slapping her shoulder.