Riven counted the coins in her pouch and sighed. The amount she had now would barely last the week. She was going to have to find a wandering peddler soon and muscle him from his coin. She hoped she could find one alone on the roads; they were easier than the ones that could afford bodyguards. A display of know-how with her sword and a lone merchant would be cowering and asking what he could give to get rid of her. The ones with guards however were a different story. Oh the cowering and offering still happened, but that usually came after slaughtering their guards.
Slaughter, what other word could be used for cleaving men in half in a single swing. Memories bubbled to the surface. Harry them the orders have been, bleed the Ionians, blood for Noxus. And she did. She commanded brothers and sisters, soldiers under her charge, to raid temples, ransack towns, and burn down villages. She commanded the killing of countless men and women who hardly knew the how defend themselves. Some did know how to fight back she told herself. Some, but far too few. Yet those were the orders. Harry them, bleed them, conquer Ionia. After this is all over, perhaps we can teach them to fend for themselves. That was what had she told herself. Every citizen of Noxus was a solider at heart, never backing down without taking three with you. Only the strong could endure the ages. Only they could never be forgotten.
"Scowling ain't gonna make my prices lower."
Riven's head came up from her revelry to face the butcher, a bald man with a round body, was staring at her impatiently with her cut of salted meats wrapped in large dried leaves, the Ionian way.
"Sorry," Riven replied, "I was thinking." and placed her coins in the butchers hand. The butchers face turned from impatience to smiles as he accepted her coins and handed her purchase.
"You look weary traveler," the butcher replied "my cousin happens to own an inn, I'm sure you'll-"
"I don't plan on staying long." Riven cut in, placing what she had bought in her satchel containing her other supplies. Swinging it over her shoulder and pulling the hood of her cloak up, she walked off. Besides her travelling cloak, Riven wore a travel worn coat whose sleeves only covered her shoulders and a pair of equally worn breeches. Almost everything she wore right now was paid by stolen coin. This was her life now, earning end's meat by banditry and wandering the countryside of Ionia, a country whose people would kill her on sight if they knew she was ' a blood hungry, rot souled Noxian'. She heard that from a drunk three towns back.
Two years she had been living like this. Two years since Noxus failed to occupy Ionia. Two years since she and her fellow brothers in arms were left for dead, abandoned, on orders from High Command. Two years of wandering aimlessly, looking for …something.
Bleed me dry, she thought, not for the first time, but it all had to for something, all that death had to lead to something. Anything! She did not just mean the deaths of her own soldiers. All the blood she shed, the needless slaughter of the defenseless, something good had to come out of their suffering, something had to come from the ashes.
"FILTHY NOXIAN!"
Riven's head sprang up, her hand going towards the handle of her sword tied across her back. The blade itself had a single edge and appeared to be broken off, a fragment of a much greater whole. Fragment though it was, it was still long as her arm and nearly half as wide. And just as deadly as any regular whole blade.
When her hand gripped the sword handle she realized that there was no murderous mob rushing to cut her down, rather the mob she saw was crowding the town square, some she saw were hurtling stones and rotten food at a procession.
"No need to be afraid," Riven swiveled her head to the side where the voice came from. The women beside her, she looked to be in her middle years, had a startled expression, whether from Riven reaching for her sword or her turning to the voice at a break neck speed she was not sure. "those rogues are in good hands now, capable hands. Brought in by Captain Bou himself. Took thirty of the town guards to capture those fiends." Riven slowly nodded, noting that the prisoners were guarded by a party of twenty not counting the captain. Noxians? Here?
"Is there another invasion?" Riven asked, a hint of concern in her voice.
"Invasion! Spirits above no!" the women exclaimed, scandalized. "These brigands are leftovers from the last one, or so I heard." She said.
"Terrible times these are" a man beside the women said. "Bloodthirsty ninjas creeping in the shadows, evil powers tearing mountains from the ground, and now those scum sucking Noxian rats crawling from the south." The man spat to the side.
"I have not heard of any Noxians in Ionia after the last invasion" Riven replied casually. She eyed the procession more closely now. Ten prisoners, ten Noxians, their hands bound together and being led by who she assumed to be this Bou character. "Where is Bou taking them?"
"Bah, I heard those filth licking, roach breeding Noxians that were left behind spend their days being bandits in the southern provinces. Things must be going downhill in the world to have them spread up here." The man eyed Riven suspiciously. "What rock have you been living under, outlander?" the man asked accusingly.
"Clearly not that boulder where you found that pox ridden tongue To Bin." The women replied. To Bin glared at her briefly before switching his focus back onto Riven
This one probably looks for trouble as a lifestyle. Riven thought, best answer carefully. She never thought herself good in talking around subjects, that was a thing for the aristocracy, not soldiering. "I have been travelling the northern provinces." She said, and meeting the man's gaze until he lowered his head to spit on the ground and kept it lowered. "Where is Bou taking them?" she repeated to the women. The crowd of watching the procession thinned, some returning to their daily lives, others following the procession, still heckling the prisoners.
"Why, to the execution grounds."
"Why not just hang them here and be done with it?" Riven asked her eyes following the hecklers.
The women sighed, "You outlanders, too much blood has been spilt in our homes during the war with Noxus. Too much innocence lost," Riven winced, "best not to remind people of that unpleasantness by spilling more in the middle of our homes."
"You can't make people forget the past." Riven said disapprovingly, "Your town will still remember that they killed Noxians here, whether or not it happened in town. Just like how they won't forget the war."
To Bin scowled something about bile filled Noxian blood not seeping into the towns soil while stalking off, surprisingly away from the heckling crowd. "I take it you're not going to see this execution either then?" Riven asked the woman.
The woman waved her at the hecklers like swatting a fly. "I have better things to do with my time then watching some lost soldiers get hanged," the woman replied and nodded her head towards Riven, "Safe travels to you outlander." She said and walked off.
Riven pulled her hood up and began following the sound of hecklers after a moment. Other Noxians. Leftovers from the invasion. Well she certainly had nothing better to do with her time. When she caught up to the procession she melded into the crowd.
The wandering swordsman Yasuo woke up to a prodding to his side, and a headache that felt like his skull was strangling his brain. He opened his eyes with a groan and the shape of a man over him silhouetted over the sun. The light surrounding the man hurt his eyes. Must be past noon, he thought.
"Stranger," the shape said, "if you don't get out of the way now I will bet the guards to throw you out."
"I'm going, I'm going." Yasuo said, getting up ,slowly, from under the tree he was sleeping under and tying his sword back onto his belt. When he was on his feet, his body stiffened at the sight of armed men behind the shape that spoke to him. It has been two weeks since Yasuo had to fend off the last group of bounty hunters and wandering vagabonds thinking they could collect the reward on his head. Fifty thousand gold dragons were placed on him for slaying the Elder he was sworn to protect, except he had not.
Instead, Yasuo had abandoned his post as honor guard and went to fight against the Noxian invaders. Sword in his hand he unleashed the long lost technique he had all but mastered. Wielding the wind as a weapon, he raised walls of gales, deflecting their arrows and bolts. With his sword, he sent torrents of miniature whirlwinds that could cut flesh and send bodies flying in the air. When he came back to the town his charge was stationed at, he had learned that the Elder had been slain, by someone who could use the wind as a weapon. Naturally, the blame fell on him, who was the last to have mastered the lost art in living memory in all of Ionia. Except, now there was another who could. He was sure of it. And so, Yasuo the prodigal student, master swordsman of the wind, was branded as a traitor. Himself, he went into self-imposed exile, looking for the true killer to clear his name and bring the guilty to justice.
Yasuo almost pulled his sword out then before realizing the crowd behind the armed men and the man that spoke to him, he decided he was the towns Elder and the town guard. Between the armed guards was a train of men and women with their hands bound behind their backs. They looked like they had rotten fruit and small rocks thrown at them and from their defeated looks, they ready for death. Behind them, an angry crowd was murmuring angrily, no doubt the source of the pelting. An execution, Yasuo thought, as he made his way into the crowd.
He had not taken two steps from the tree and the Elder began telling the armed men, the guards, to set up the ropes and the stand the ladder against the tree. He looked at the crowd, grim satisfaction forming on their faces. Pit swallow me, they are all eager for this execution. Just who are these prisoners to get such hate these people?
Noxians, Yasuo answered to himself, it was the only answer. That left his tongue felling like a briar in his mouth, which already felt like sand when he woke up. Not that they were hanging Noxians, but the fact that the crowd, and the Elder for that matter, seemed to be eager to watch the prisoners hang. Before the invasion, Ionians were reputed to be a people who always found peace of mind. It saddened him to see his fellow countrymen find such entertainment in this killing. He reached for the bottle behind his back and took a swig of what was left of the spirit in it. Yasuo heard someone in the crowd say that he had the right idea, drinking to this event. The strangers' words made Yasuo take another swig. When the bottle touched his lips, he heard the order for the first prisoner to climb up the ladder. Ten prisoners. It was going to be a long day for them. When Yasuo was nearly at the end of the crowd, he felt the tingling sensation on his neck causing the hairs to stand up followed by a scream. More than one scream.
Yasuo dropped the bottle and spun towards the tree he was walking away from, hands grasping on the hilt of his sword and its scabbard. He did not know why he turned to face the tree, the tingling gave no sense of direction, but instinct drove him to face the tree. The crowd he was in started to run away, the people attempting to push him out of their way but he stood his ground, which was an effort since the screaming was not helping his hangover. What he saw was a sight to behold.
Under the tree, the first prisoner was at the top of the ladder, hands bound and the noose around his neck. He wore a face of surprise, everyone did, prisoners and guards all. Beside the tree stood the town Elder and what appeared to be the captain of the guardsmen, judging from the red plume on his helmet.
Ten paces from the tree stood two rows of guards, one row of ten guarding the prisoners and another row facing towards the crowd, or where the crowd was running from. At one end of the row nearest to the crowd Yasuo's was a women clad in rough traveling clothes, and falling from her was the bisected corpse of a guardsman. But what his eyes locked onto was the sword she carried, a black monstrosity etched with glowing green symbols as tall as the white haired women wielding it and as wide as his forearm was long. How under the sun did no one notice this outsider carry that hulking slab of a blade? How could she have swung that thing at all? All that occurred in one moment, the next moment he felt the tingling he had felt earlier intensify. He stared in wonder, eyes following the black blade, as the women slashed her way through the guards, advancing towards the tree.
From the blade, Yasuo saw the green glow intensify and the air rippled around it. No, the air was wrapping itself around the blade. That was all he could make out for when the women slashed her blade across, he saw the air around the blade shoot forth as a glowing green crescent, severing the heads of guardsmen in its path and the prisoners noose.
.A blade of wind, Yasuo thought, his mind emptying. All this time, searching for the one that could use the wind like a weapon, the one who murdered his Elder. She's trying to free the prisoner. She must be from Noxus. And she can use the wind?! The emptiness of his mind was suddenly filled with a singular determination. He was going to capture this mysterious swordsman, this women that can wield the wind, and he will see justice given.
I will clear my name.
Riven stood in the middle of the crowd, watching as the town Elder gave orders for the first prisoner to ascend the ladder. The crowd began murmuring eagerly, waiting to see the first corpse dangle. The occasional 'Death to Noxus!' came but she blotted that out. Riven was studying the guards watching over the prisoners, twenty guardsmen in two rows, six or seven paces between the lines. The prisoners were clustered up in front of the farthest row of guards, each waiting their turn to wear a noose. She eyed the archers in that row. There were four of them, two on either ends, the rest of the guards were spearmen.
Those archers will be my top priority, can't have them shooting arrows at the prisoners when they make a run for it. She thought, setting her satchel down and pulling out a metal gauntlet. Riven looked at the crowd through the corner of her eye. Thankfully, the people around her were far more interested with the hanging then her. She fastened the gauntlet on her hand and pulled her cloak over it. The thing was terribly conspicuous. It had a rune inscribed on the back of it and its grandiose size made her hand seem twice as large, yet strangely it felt like wearing a second skin to her. The first prisoner was halfway up the ladder now.
Now or never Riven, she thought to herself while wading through to the front of the crowd. With each step memories came back to her. Memories of getting caught in a trap set by the Ionians. Her soldiers overwhelmed yet fighting with all their might to break the ambush. Riven requesting for reinforcements to aid their position. That request was met by High Command releasing chemical weapons from Zaun on the battlefield, killing Ionians and Noxians all. The entire battlefield covered in a green fog with the sounds of soldiers gasping for air, screaming from the agony of feeling their insides burn within them.
Names of the dead began listing themselves off in her head.
Adin, Cera, Tess, Jerico, Brett, Logen,….
To this day, after waking the next morning in that putrid field of corpses not even the carrions would touch, Riven still did not know how she had survived, but she had come to a conclusion that day. High Command had abandoned them. People, who had fought and bled for their country, who had more than proven themselves to be loyal to every order no matter how heinous and cruel they were, had been abandoned.
… Luc, Fala, Kreig, Dall,…
I will save them.
… Cin, Dav, Brenden, Willum, …
I will not abandon them.
Nearly at the front of the crowd, Riven's gauntleted hand went to her sword hilt. The list of names became a murmuring chant in the back of her head as she focused her thoughts on an image of her sword. She imagined the broken weapon floating in darkness, the only source of light was the green glow from the singular rune on the broken blade.
The chanting names grew faster
… Dern, Rob, Ivon, Gabrin, Sten…
I am a solider.
In Riven's mind, the glow around the sword began to pulsate.
She sped up her pace, pulling people behind her as she advanced to the front of the crowd.
I am a weapon. I am the blade.
The glow began to pulsate faster as the chanting became a crescendo.
… Havic, Gells, Franz, Hert, Bower, Val...
Riven broke into a sprint, dashing through the rest of the crowd, beginning to pull her sword out.
I am not broken.
The pulsating glow erupted into blazing light.
Riven dashed out from the crowd into the first row of guards, unsheathing her blade. At that moment, the image in Riven's mind and the reality became one and the same. The broken sword she wore was whole once more. As tall as her, the single edged black stone runeblade emitted a green light from the runes carved on it. Riven brought the blade down with both hands, bisecting the spearman at the end of the first row, separating shoulder from neck in an angled slash. The names sounded in her head like a gong.
…Don, Wilhelm, Fen.
The crowd screaming was background noise to her as Riven pivoted, turning the blade in her hands, separating the shocked spearman beside her, his torso separated from his waist. Another guard charged at Riven, screaming as he thrust the spear towards her. She leapt to the side evading him, spinning herself to face the archers on landing and began to dash towards them.
The archers began to raise their bows when Riven was halfway to them. A blade of wind, she thought to herself and felt currents of air wrap around her greatsword, preparing for her next strike. Riven slashed the air across in front of her, and shooting out from her blade came a green crescent as sharp as a razor. The crescent projectile severed the archers heads at an angle and continued on flowing, cutting the noose of the Noxian on the ladder and pruning the treetop behind him.
Arms feeling hollow from the Wind Slash, Riven let out a "RUN!" as spearmen began encircling her.
"Qi, Han, Ing, protect the Elder! Gao, Wen, do not let the prisoners escape!" the guard captain shouted. Three of the spearmen retreated backwards, escorting the Elder to safety as the remaining two archers began to nock their arrows as the bounds Noxians began to sprint away from the scene.
With a yell, Riven charged forward, adrenaline filling the hollow feeling in her arms. Three spearmen in front of her stepped up from their formation ready to skewer her. Not stopping, Riven leaped forward, whirling herself and her sword full circle. Just as the spearmen began to thrust their spears out, the end of the greatsword came across their necks. Heads falling from bodies, Riven made another mad dash on landing, heading straight for the archers. They had already loosed when she dismembered one and split the other in two. She hoped they had missed.
That was the only thought she had when she felt a vibration go down through her sword arm. By reflex, Riven jumped back, as far as her legs could carry her. She did not know why she had and for the next moment, time slowed for her. In midair, she saw a shimmer in the air pass through where she had stood feeling only what can be described as the edges of invisible blades just brushing her face as the shimmer passed.
Landing, she saw a trail of torn up grass and settling dust in the air going through where she stood. It made her think that a miniature tornado had come through. Looking for the cause, she saw a swordsman in a torn blue tunic exposing his abdomen with what looked like a bush tied to the back of his head come at her. The swordsman thrust his blade out. Riven met the thrust with the broad side of her sword, using it the shield the thrust. The force of impact made her slide back and she felt a crack grow on her sword where the strangers' blade had collided with.
Who in the bloody-. That was all she had time to think as the swordsman came at her again, bringing his sword down. Riven raised her blade to meet the blow, and felt the strangers sword chip her own again. Anger flowed through her. Not once, but twice this man had marked her sword. Her plan seemed so simple, distract the guards, free the Noxians, and continue on her way to self-imposed exile. Riven pushed back the mysterious swordsman and leaped back putting distance between them. The man assumed a neutral stance, ready to either defend or strike out. This was going to be a long day.
"Get your men out of here captain and bring reinforcements!" Yasuo yelled, watching the white haired women as they circled each other. Despite the white hair, she seemed fairly young. "You are outmatched!" He did not want to chance one of the guards spearing her. He needed her alive.
"Who are you to order me stranger. I –"
"Pit swallow you man! She just minced nine of your men! Get out and-!" was all he got out when the white haired women leaped for him, greatsword going for his neck. Blocking the sudden blow sent Yasuo off his feet. Landing on his back, he rolled to the side just in time as the white haired women brought her blade down, stabbing the ground.
Too close, Yasuo thought getting up into a crouch, preparing to spring out and strike at her.
Just as he was about to advance, he was forced to jump back in opposite direction as the women ripped out her sword from the earth, sending clumps of dirt and grass flying towards where his face had been and landing at his feet where he had landed. Again the women rushed at him, bringing her sword down. Yasuo parried the blow, and felt again as his blade chipped hers. He followed up with a trust to her shoulder but the women recovered quickly, knocking his sword off target with an upward slash.
Again and again they exchanged blows. Yasuo deflected every slash the women made towards him, every stab he evaded to the side and responded with strike of his own. Yet the women kept up easily. Each swipe he made was met with a parry, every thrust met the flat side of her sword.
Since starting the duel, Yasuo believed that the woman's sword would eventually break from all the cracks he made in it. How wrong he was. The nicks he made on the greatsword would mend themselves, black fragments of stone seemed to form out of thin air and coalesce on the blade. The worst part of it all was that as the fight dragged on, he felt the woman's sword grow harder, each of his strikes were leaving smaller and smaller cracks on her blade. If it was any consolation, he saw that his opponent was getting as winded as he was. Then again, that look of determination in her amber eyes only intensified.
Yasuo dodged another of the woman's decapitating strikes, cursing at how close he nearly lost his head. Did he dare try to stall out this fight until the town guard came with reinforcements? Dare he risk them killing her? He slashed to the woman's flank but she blocked it easily with the broad side of her sword. He gave another curse in his head. Not a scratch this time. He gave himself another curse on realizing that had it hit, he would have cleaved her in two. I need to bring her in alive dammit. The women made an uppercut, forcing him to jump back.
No, can't wait anymore. I have to end this now or die trying.
With a nothing left to lose, Yasuo thrust his sword out like a coiled spring. The women used her sword as a shield again, blocking his blade. He felt air currents wrap around his blade. There was surprise in the woman's eyes as he thrust his blade out again not a second after the previous causing her to slide back a few paces off.
Yasuo retreated back and sheathed his sword. He felt the air being churned around him and his weapon, ready to unleash a storm. If the wind is her weapon, then she will survive this. He told himself. He hoped it would be so. As if to reaffirm his beliefs, he felt the same tingling he had felt earlier when that women unleashed that destructive green crescent. It brought a smile to his face, and if it threw her off, all the better.
May the quickest draw win.
He brought his blade out in a sheath strike. The women slashed across the air.
He felt the churning air be ripped from around him and from his slash, a raging whirlwind, the Steel Tempest, flew out towards its target, leaving a trail of dust and cut grass in its wake. Steel Tempest collided the green crescent and the two forces seemed to fuse into one another and then repulse.
Yasuo instinctively sliced the air in front of him, erecting a shimmering gray veil, the Wind Wall. He had used the same technique to take cover from arrow volleys and it stood true like any wall of stone, yet now it seemed to waver, like a curtain in the breeze. He heard multiple impacts be made on his Wall, like thousands upon thousands of slashes bombarding his cover. Some of the force from the repulsion even managed to seep through, forcing Yasuo to brace himself for fear of losing balance.
At the end of the barrage, Yasuo dispersed the Wall and stared with bulging eyes. Around and in front of him, he saw that the ground has been reduced to bare dirt. The grass that had once covered it was now drifting in the air alongside motes of dust and soil. Walking through the mote of dust and minced grass, he crossed the epicenter and noticed that deep swirls were carved into the ground, extending to the edges of the bared ground.
Yasuo focused on his attentions ahead. A figure stood behind the settling dust and grass, her sword in the ground and it's wielder on her knees. The search ends today.
Stupid women. Riven thought to herself as she clung to the sword. Should have just ran the other way when that bush headed idiot sheathed his sword. Her body felt battered and exhausted, no surprise after that prolonged duel and being blown away after her Wind Slash met with the strangers little tornado. She doubted she could swing her greatsword anymore and still be a credible threat. The only thing that kept her from being thrown farther was that bit of quick thinking in planting her sword in the ground as an anchor, fat lot of good that done. The worst part of that experience was the feeling of tiny little blades being sliced across her. None of the cuts were deep but how it had hurt, like thousands of paper cuts all across her body. No doubt her hair got a good deal shorter from that ordeal.
She started to get up from her crouch when she felt steel on the back of her neck. Looking up beside her slowly she saw the strange swordsman standing over her. She almost laughed. She had hoped this man would have been blown away. At second glace, she noticed that the man did seem to suffer any of the cuts or bruises she had. Whoever this person was, he had more tricks then that tornado shooter.
"Release your sword." The man said. "Or lose the arm."
"Do you have a thing against killing women?" She asked the man, staring defiance into his eyes. "Or do you simply enjoy maiming them." Goading him was probably the worst thing to do in this situation, but meekly submitting seemed less favorable still.
He scowled, "I mean to take you in alive. Last chance the sword or the arm."
Riven scoffed "Take me in alive? For what? Hold a trial for me? I doubt the sentence will be anything else but death." She laughed grimly. Wanted her alive did he, there may be hope of escape yet.
"I warned you." The man said, moving the sword away from her neck to raise it above his head.
At that moment, Riven expelled the image of the unbroken sword from her mind. The blade of her greatsword crumbled to dust until only the broken fragment she had carried remained. As the strangers blade descended, Riven dashed to the side, stumbled actually. Getting up from the ground, she turned around to face her pursuer.
The man rushed towards her, laying a flurry of slashes down on her, it was she could do to block them with her broken sword. Her resistance had not lasted long when he drove her to drop her sword. Panting, Riven looked up as the man swung his sword down on her. Taking her gamble, she raised her gauntleted hand and grabbed the man's blade, stopping it in mid arc.
Sword arm numb from the shock now, Riven let go of the man's blade, leaped the gap between them, and punched him on the side of his temple with her ungloved off hand. The man went down without a word.
Collapsing onto the ground, Riven took down deep breathes of air. A risky gambit that, dropping her sword and using her hand to block the strangers attack. Had she been as exhausted as she faked, a second slower in reflexes and she could have lost an arm. But damn the man had been good. Shame she could not have gotten the warriors name. Sounds of horns and horses made her remember about the town guards. Reinforcements had come.
Getting up, Riven walked towards where she had dropped her sword. Picking it up, she considered stabbing the unconscious stranger where he laid. The man wanted her alive for some reason, most likely to bring her to trial. Could the man know who she was? Could he have been hunting for her? If so, for how long? Stabbing him now would be prudent. Ultimately, she decided against it. There had been enough death for today, and she found it unlikely the man could track her.
So, Riven ran for the hills, back into exile.