Prologue

Long, long ago, they say there once lived a man living in a city on an island far to the corner of Runeterra, almost an insignificant, forgettable place. Everyday without a break, he slaved over his work. For if he slacked for even a moment, it could all fall to pieces. One fateful day, he relaxed. It was his downfall. The legend refers to Thresh, the Chain Warden. He is yet another creature with ties to the Isles. Those who survive, speak of a prison warden with a fondness for torture, whose preferred tools were chains. It's not surprising that such a monster's spirit would return, armed with chains. His sole purpose is finding worthy souls, breaking the minds and bodies of their hosts, and then carrying them back to the Shadow Isles where an unknown (but most likely terrible) fate befalls them.

Little to nothing is known about the Shadow Isles, despite the number of authors attempting to publish informational texts. Many set course to the cursed isles, only to never return. An eternally thick, unnatural fog blankets the islands from the view of outsiders. It is thought that the islands are home to countless forms of undead, though no one seems eager to perform the exploration necessary to find out the truth. It's infamy grows by the decade, becoming a looming threat...or merely a tall tale?

A year after the Explorer's League was established, expeditioners were sent to explore a small portion of the isle and later, established the Twisted Treeline, a magician's outpost. Some say this is where the deviation that later became the sentience that is Maokai, a dark treant friendly to no one, living or unliving. Also said to dwell in these woods are unspeakable horrors that cause one's sanity to vanish in an instant.

In the Isles, there are many shades of death, and each is embraced rather than feared or reviled. One can only ascend from one state to the next with the magical aid of a skilled professional. Yorick, the Gravedigger, is one individual who serves this role. He acts as a ferryman for the Isles' undead denizens, helping them climb death's many-tiered ladder. Another being is the feared lich, Karthus, the Deathsinger. What other beings may live here are unknown.

"Most of the Shadow Isles' history comes from the two mysterious altars of the Twisted Treeline, that says fragments of their history to its capturers and from the League records of the Shadow Isles' champions..."

"What are you doing, Lux?"

With an eep, the blonde haired girl slammed the tome shut, stumbling over her words as she spoke, "O-oh hello there big brother. Y-you startled me. What's up? Why is everyone in such an uproar? The last hour or so, people have been running around like a chicken that lost it's head."

The broad shouldered man looked down at the petite magician and said darkly, "The War Council came to a consensus: Invasion and destruction of the Shadow Isles. All able bodied, warrior or mage have been drafted."