Hi all,

Hope you enjoyed Chapter 1 and it got you excited for what's to come! Here's chapter 2.

Chapter 2

It could be heard from the palace. The terrifying scream of a creature not human in nature. As diplomats and servants ran in panic across the palace floor, the King Jarvan III sat nervously on his throne of gold. He was only in his late 40's, a relatively young King, who's brown muddy eyes showed an innocence about him , that some elders would call naivety. In stark contrast , Grelof his assistant who stood by him at all times was old and greying. A wispy long beard of white protruded from his chin like a waterfall of snow and his small beady eyes scanned the room which was now flooding with guards. The wrinkles on his face showed his age more than anything, around 70 years old. He himself having a mysterious past befriended Jarvan III when he worked in the city library. Since the Kings arrival to the throne Grelof has stood by him at all times, but some question his political and military mandate. It was to be tested now. Some had thought of Jarvan III to be a puppet on strings and the real person making the countries decision was Grelof himself.

"Guards, fetch me my Son," ordered Jarvan III in a still calm and collected tone, but almost instantly Jarvan IV the Kings son and next in line to the throne burst into the throne room. His pale face highlighted by his red cheeks had a furrowed angry look to it. He was around 21, still barely an adult in the land of Demacia where age was sign of wisdom and strength. His features were similar to that of his father , a chiselled jaw with extenuated cheek bones. He was one of the fairest in the whole Kingdom , with girls all around Valoran to be his his eyes were a piercing grey, and this he obtained through his mother.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jarvan IV screamed , pushing past guards in order to be right in the face of his father. "There are women and children dying out there and you're sitting in here like some sort of coward!" Jarvan III looked avidly digressed at his sons outburst, but he was more worried that his son could be right. However, before Jarvan III even began to question the decision , Grelof burst into a fit of anger himself "How dare you speak to the King like that!" Quickly turning to a high ranking guard he snapped, "Take the King and The Prince to Kings quarters, it will be safer for them there." Before either Jarvan could dispute they were quickly picked up and escorted down a stone corridor, which was brightly lit with golden candles on the wall. At the end of the corridor was a large brass door which one of the guards opened for them and then watched them walk inside before promptly shutting the door and then locking it. The King's quarters were large with gold and blue decorating the room. A small glass chandelier illuminated the room. The Bed was large and had 4 posts. A glass window on the far left of the room, had a spectacular view of the Serpentine river. Jarvan III gave a exhausted sigh and collapsed onto his bed, his hands on his face. Both of them looked at each other in silence before Jarvan III said in a mournful tone: "what have I done?"

"All is not lost father," Jarvan IV said sitting next to his father on the bed.

"You're right. Once we have triumphed today I will expel Grelof as my assistant. This Empire will rise again, under the name of Jarvan!"

"Garen where the hell have you been?" shouted an enraged Grelof as Garen, leader of the Demacian guard and protectorate of the royal family marched into the throne room?

"A better question is where is the King and Prince, I belong by there side but I had to help defend citizens-

"The King and Prince are safe, my men are watching them. You must go to the battlefield Garen, an unspeakable horror is destroying your so called 'guards' and only you can stop him," said Grelof is an impetuous tone, pointing towards the door of the throne room.

"Sir, I feel that I have a du-"

"That's an order," Grelof snapped. He paused a moment to think of the correct words to convince Garen to leave before saying in the noblest and courageous voice he could "There are women and children dying out there and you're sitting in here like some sort of coward!".

Garen slowly stared at him with piercing eyes, before reluctantly whispering "Yes sir." He turned sharply on his heels and pushed the door open. Walking through the palace towards the main city, Garen saw the panic on the faces of servants taking shelter here. Garen had never known this life. Raised in an orphanage after being left on the doorstep. Garen never knew riches or wealth. Only compassion. At the age of 6 he was taken in by an elderly couple, who taught him the true meaning of justice and honour. At school Garen was top of his classes an intelligent and athletic child. He just didn't fit in. Some shunned him for his talents , claiming he was a show off. He shunned others who didn't have the virtues he thought should belong in a Demacian citizen. He stood up to bully's, and teachers who he thought did not have the interest of justice in there hearts. Overall he was an exemplary student

Garen left the palace and looked upon the city. The front gate, he could see was slowly being retaken by the Demacian guard. This was not a full Noxus attack he thought to himself. He also wondered where their generals Darius and Draven were. This worried Garen greatly as he knew they were mischievous and great tacticians. Suddenly another loud unearthly scream was heard as he saw a building completely collapse.

"That's bad." Garen began to sprint towards the building passing injured soldiers cheering him on as he ran past.

"Go on Garen!"

"For Demacia!"

"Let it taste your sword."

Garen knew that some of his friends couldn't cheer him on , as they had fallen in the name of Demacia. He must avenge their cause.

At the age of 18 Garen was offered multiple scholarships to study History and maybe even the lost arts of Runes. His adopted father had been a general in the military in his whole life, fighting for light and justice. On his deathbed, Garen made an oath to carry on his fathers duty. He joined the army after leaving school and it was there, Garen discovered he possessed a gift. He had been blessed by the Gods as some called it. Others said that the power was in his blood from his real parents. Garen saw it as a call to arms. He possessed unimaginable strength, being able to lift entire people with just one hand. He also, at great expense of his energy could summon up the power 'of the Gods'. A large burst of magic from the heavens that would destroy even the most powerful foe. With these powers Garen moved up the military ranks quickly , before being picked by Jarvan III himself (against the wishes of Grelof) to be the royal family's protectorate and the leader of the Guard, and elite group of soldiers. After countless victories under Garen, he became a hero in the eyes of all Demacian people. He was every young boys idol and every young girls heartthrob. He embodied everything Demacian. He was their champion.

"Garen over here," shouted a guard from a nearby barricade. "It's coming this way! There are women and children in that church!" Garen drew his sword and walked onto the street where the church stood. Standing in front of the church door he turned to face down the road. There, the hulking abomination stood.

"Come on then big boy. Lets see what you've got."