Cladd/Hidden Temple/The Veil
"Ah, so you haven't seen one of these before, eh?" Kunkka sat on a pile of felled timber brought to the first deck of the Leviathan. The wood, which were meant to repair the still damaged Claddish flotilla, were easily cut down by the Avarosan crew replacements, whom had now gathered round the admiral as he showcased the peculiar weapon was holding.
"They call this the 'inverse bayonet', or the 'sword-rifle', if you'd like to be less than formal." The admiral held out the weapon to his audience. "I commissioned myself a few of these instruments when they were first invented a few years back. Some of the chaps down at the Cerulean Guard even specialized in the use of this sword as their main armaments."
To demonstrate, he waved the sword/gun hybrid around in the air to display its weight, held the hammer of the weapon's rifle component half-cocked, unlocked and slid off the ammo cartridge compartment to the rear, loaded the rifle with a fresh cartridge, closed the cartridge compartment, flipped the hammer back to full-cock, took aim at a nearby bucket and fired.
The results were spectacular. The bucket exploded in a shower of wooden splinters, bits of tin and a deluge of dirty, soap-filled swabwater.
In response to the unamused looks the Avarosans splashed in the water were giving to him, Kunkka sheepishly grinned. "Yes, I know. It's more of a blunderbuss than a rifle."
With that said, the Avarosan audience gradually took off, to attend to the ship repairs once more. Kunkka was left by himself again. Feeling that the bladed rifle he held needed some tinkering, the admiral promptly laid the weapon on a nearby steel crate and went right to disassembling it.
"Grand admiral," Suddenly, the Phantom Assassin emerged from the shadows, right behind the admiral. "You've got company on the way."
"Soul blind me!" In surprise, Kunkka nearly threw the crate he used as a table over. He was already used to Lanaya appearing out of nowhere and announcing news, but Mortred was a whole different story.
Kunkka spun around. "I don't think Lanaya'll appreciate anyone other than herself sneaking up on people to make an entrance," He said. "Anyways, what's this 'company' I'm about to have?"
"The monarchs are coming," Lanaya chose to reveal herself with an answer for Kunkka's question. Mortred recoiled in surprise at her fellow assassin's appearance, but she reformed herself in short order. Kunkka was unfazed.
Lanaya shot a look of contempt and distrust at Mortred for the briefest of seconds before going back to Kunkka. "They're dressed in civilian clothing, so the both of them blended in quite well with the Avarosan common rabble."
Kunkka pursed his lips and held a hand to his beard in contemplation.
"I was with Captain Garen down at Rakelstake," Mortred stated frankly. "While taking a stroll around the city, I managed to spot the two royals heading straight for the port. I bid the Demacian farewell and—"
"Whoa there, wait. You were with Garen?" Kunkka interrupted Mortred with a wry look on his face. "Aren't you two supposed to be on... I don't know, bad terms?"
Mortred regarded the admiral with a questioning look. "Yes... I suppose so. We ran into each other at a blacksmith's workshop, at Laxa Square."
"Why were you in Rakelstake, anyway?" Lanaya asked her fellow assassin with suspicion. "Kunkka promised that all the Heroes would be supplied with all the weapons we'll ever need here in Narfasker, I don't think you're down there just to visit a smith."
The Phantom Assassin tilted her head in slight confusion. "I was really just looking," She truthfully answered. "At least until now, I wasn't aware that my supplies will be given to me for free, so I took it upon myself to buy a new platemail and some replacement daggers. By pure coincidence, Garen was also there, looking for a new undermail."
The admiral nodded, understanding that he forgot to inform his newest assassin about her free resupplies down at the quartermaster's.
"Not long after we bought our goods, the captain asked if he could accompany me." Mortred continued, as straightforward as could be. "Lux most likely isn't inclined to go near me again, and I could use another person familiar with the city as a guide, so I said yes. I'm not about to alienate another Crownguard if I can help it."
Kunkka chuckled, to Mortred's further confusion. "Ah, of course. Tell me, what did the two of you do while in each other's company? Nothing too serious, I'd sincerely hope?" To accompany his utterance of the word 'serious', the admiral gave Mortred a suggestive smirk.
"We spent quite a bit of time mapping out the whole city." Mortred answered. "Well, I did. He asked me questions, mostly. I felt like I was being interrogated the whole time."
Abruptly, the playful expression Kunkka had on his face disappeared. It was swiftly replaced with a blank, contemplative stare. "And what might those questions be?"
"The captain mainly inquired me about combat-related subjects. I indulged him for a bit before he shifted our conversation to focus on my accent, of all the things." The Veil assassin said, slightly exaggerating her tone for emphasis. "Really, it seems that these... 'Demacians' have issues with the way I talk. It's like they find it odd to hear."
"Oh," The admiral's shoulders eased up from their tensed state. "Well, at least he isn't asking you about things that'll jeopardize the flotilla's security. Still, it's better to be overly suspicious than be blithely oblivious."
Kunkka then turned to the Templar Assassin, whom had not-so-patiently waited, slightly leaning the Leviathan's railings. "Lanaya, I need you to keep an eye out on the capー"
"Already been doing so for a week now, Kunkka. What do you think I do in my spare time, whenever I disappear?" Lanaya cut the admiral off. "I spy on people, that's what. And no, as far as my observations go, Garen and the Demacians under his command aren't planning anything unsavory for us."
"Lastly, in case the two of you haven't noticed," Lanaya continued. "While you waste the minutes talking away, the current matter at hand, namely the Avarosan monarchy's surprise visit to the flotilla, draws ever closer to us. I suggest we prepare ourselves before they arrive."
While Kunkka felt somewhat irritated at Lanaya's unbelievably forthright attitude, he can't deny that his motley crew of Claddsmen, keenfolk and Avarosan seafarers do need themselves be at least look presentable in the presence of two visiting monarchs.
"Right, then. Mortred, I need you to look as blurry and unimportant as you could. Stay away from Ashe and Tryndamere as much as possible - it'll save me a lot of explaining. Lanaya, how are the Heroes doing?"
"Thunderwrath hasn't left the cargo hold armory since yesterday," With exaggerated disgust in her tone, Lanaya told the admiral. "As much as I'd like to say that he was eaten by the ratwolves, so far, the only thing he's ever did was to hammer his chestplate back into shape."
Kunkka nodded slowly. "Aye..." He pantomimed flicking an imaginary pipe perched on his mouth.
The Templar Assassin sighed. "On the other hand, I've no clue as to where might the Tinker–"
"Boush had just recently established some sort of trading agreement with the locals ー he supplied them with his spare gadgetry, while they supply him with spare parts, scrap metal, and alchemical ingredients... while insisting all the way that alchemy itself doesn't exist." Mortred piped in after Lanaya. "Right now, he should be at the lower decks, inside his own personal makeshift laboratory-workshop hybrid."
The admiral let out an inaudible huff of a laugh at Lanaya's ruffled expression. She was clearly caught off-guard by the Phantom Assassin's tracking abilities.
In response, Lanaya hurriedly dashed out another report. "Of course, Luna is at one of your other ships, the Celeste. Apparently, the empty decks and the skeleton crew made the second-rate a suitable environment to practice one's glaive-throwing skills." Seeing Kunkka's satisfied look, Lanaya briefly trained a smug, slightly belligerent look at Mortred; wordlessly challenging the Veil assassin into a contest of wits and reports.
Mortred remained either uncaring, or oblivious... much to Kunkka's hidden amusement. Lanaya glared at her fellow assassin before continuing on with her report. "I've already alerted Volkov and Captain Maxson to Luna's eccentric display. That way, we should have less glaive-related injuries over the course of this week."
Kunkka nodded. "Mm-hm, I see." He turned his back to the two women, momentarily directing his gaze on the shipyard his ship was docked on.
All across the shipyard in squads of six, with rifles held firmly within their gloved clutches, Claddish soldiers stood like statues as they stood guard over the entire port area. Only about seven squads of soldiers actively patrolled the dockyard for anything suspicious.
Keenfolk, being the gun enthusiasts that they were, scurried and fussed over the rows of naval artillery pieces neatly arranged all over the shipyard's areas.
The sounds of construction and sailors calling out orders and warnings drowned out all the other sounds, and felled lumber seemed to be just as plentiful as the water around the docks.
Kunkka took in a lungful of the frigid Freljordian air. After all the time he was left stranded in Narfasker, the admiral was slowly adapting to the frozen state of his environment. After all, the harshness of the frozen hinterlands has a way of whittling a person down to his true self, he thought, remembering the words of an ice mage he fought with in the past.
He turned to his erstwhile companions not long after. Smiling wearily, he said, "Well, let's hope the royals walk slow, then. We've got a lot of preparations to do." Then his smile turned into a grimace. "And a lot of things to hide."
Seemingly in accord with the admiral's statement, the keenish spotter nestled on the crow's nest promptly lost his footing, letting loose a shrilly scream as he plummeted into Port Narfasker's icy waters.
"Man overboard!" A crewman shouted.
Lanaya brought a palm to her face and sighed into it.
...
Avarosa/Cladd/Nightsilver
"These clothes... are you sure they're really necessary? A commoner's robes aren't what you'd call comfortable, you know." Ashe scratched at her irritated neckline as she complained.
Tryndamere shook his head in mild annoyance. "You've been wearing a queen's attire for too long. Have you forgotten that you wear these robes all the time, back when you're still a commoner just like the rest of us?"
The queen pouted. "We could've dressed as summoners. If only Garen and Quinn dressed up in their uniforms a few weeks ago, I'd have no problems today."
"Hey, it was a good idea, even if it wasn't intentional on the Demacians' part," Tryndamere said. "We clothed ourselves as commoners and look how far we've gone now, without being spotted by the admiral's men? I'd like to see the look on his face when we show up on his doorstep."
Despite her less-than-pleasant (to her) situation, Ashe laughed. "Yes, I would rather like to see how Kunkka reacts when the tables are turned on him. It was such a pain trying to get the palace look presentable with such limited time."
"Wonder how much of a pain would it be to tidy up a whole port." The king added. "Right, we're almost out of the woods. We're nearly there."
On their way out of the Krumsholar Forest, some of Ashe's personal guard encountered the monarchs as they practiced agility runs and honed their aim with their bows, but most mistook them for commoners. The more perceptive guardsmen, upon recognizing their leaders, sharply saluted and either went on with their training, or offered their presence and protection to Ashe and Tryndamere, only to be politely declined on the grounds of secrecy and discretion.
Soon, after a quarter of continuous walking later, the royal pair had finally seen the last of the small forest between Rakelstake and Port Narfasker... only to be stopped by a group of rifle-wielding soldiers dressed in white and blue at the port's only entrance.
"Halt!" A gray-eyed soldier outfitted in a more elaborate uniform than the rest of his colleagues called out to Ashe and Tryndamere, holding out an open, gloved palm.
"Port Narfasker is a restricted area. Are the two of you enlisted with the Avarosan housecarls?" He crisply asked, his posture and stance completely neutral. Further examination of the soldier revealed some recent scratch marks from some sort of creature marring his features and his otherwise immaculately-maintained uniform.
Ashe recognized the soldier as the leader of the Claddish soldiers that helped apprehend the blurry assassin a few weeks back. His name was apparently Hutchinson, as the queen recalled. A lieutenant colonel, in charge of the Cerulean Guardsmen company attached to Kunkka's forces.
"Claddsman, we're a cut above the housecarls," Tryndamere boasted, faster than Ashe could speak up with a more diplomatic approach. "I suggest you stand aside before I call the admiral and make him do so."
The soldier didn't even flinch. "All in due time, sir. But first, we need identification. Who might you be, and to whom are you affiliated with?"
"Why, I'm the king of Freljord." Tryndamere bluntly responded. "Are you satisfied, Claddsman? Now, stand aside."
Hutchinson was clearly unimpressed. "Yes, and I'm Ezalor, the Keeper of the Light. Mark me well; until you give me proper identification, I assure you, you shall not pass... sir."
Ashe brought a palm to her face in frustration. Hutchinson was about to turn his back on the disguised monarchs to resume his autonomous guard, when Ashe pulled her hood down and called out his name and rank. The lieutenant colonel's dull gray eyes widened while his pupils shrank in an almost imperceptible manner as he looked over the queen's features. He remembers me alright, thought Ashe.
The soldier reformed himself in short order, however. "Your Majesties," He promptly stomped a booted foot to the ground, stood straight and placed a closed fist over his chest - doing his country's method of executing a salute. "I apologize if I have offended. Admiral Tresham ordered us to wait for you at the gates and escort you to him once you arrive. If you'd please follow me," He swiftly ordered his men to part themselves and make way.
"'Admiral 'Tresham'? Who—" Tryndamere began, but was cut off by the lieutenant colonel.
"Admiral Kunkka is a scion of one of Cladd's noble houses, more specifically, the House Tresham." Hutchinson informed as frank as he could. "Also, 'Kunkka' isn't even the admiral's actual name. It was a moniker he had taken up just before his fateful encounter with the bottom of the ocean."
Despite herself, Ashe felt her curiosity take her over, and she made no efforts to stop it. "Oh really? Pray tell, what's the good admiral's real name?"
Hutchinson opened his mouth, but was silenced when he heard the telltale sounds of an approaching beast of war. And mounted on that particular beast, was one of the Heroes. Grimacing, the soldier turned to the direction of his incoming company.
"Hutchinson!" Luna called out as she closed in, mounted on Nova. "I need another platoon of your underlings in the Celeste right now, the pathetic excuses for soldiers you provided aren't much of a challenge!"
The lieutenant colonel's stoic expression changed, turning into an annoyed, unhappy one. After bracing himself for an incoming blow that he cannot avoid, Hutchinson didn't so much as struggle when Nova collided with his body and knocked him to the ground, sending his rifle and his hat flying away, into the arms of a pair of waiting guardsmen.
Judging from how well the guardsmen caught the falling weapon and hat from the air, and how Hutchinson seemed to know exactly what was about to happen, Ashe assumed that whatever just happened in front her and Tryndamere's eyes had already been happening for quite some time now.
Luna now noticed that Hutchinson and his men were actually having company, after Nova had already pounced on the poor lieutenant colonel. The Dark Moon warrior looked down on the fallen soldier, who was being used as an impromptu plaything by her mount... not that he seemed to be caring at this point.
"James, who the bloody hell are these two?" Luna asked.
"The king and queen of the Avarosan people. The admiral briefed me and my men to wait for them to appear at the gates." The lieutenant colonel lazily answered as Nova nibbled on the collar of his uniform. "Can I stand up now, Nightsilvian?"
Luna ignored Hutchinson, however. She didn't like how he was placed in charge of a large chunk of the main Claddish land-based force, while Kunkka had relegated her to a decidedly unremarkable position of an artillery officer, thanks to her goddess-given abilities of manipulating moonlight into lethal streaks of light from the skies. It was just a bonus that provoking an emotional response out of the resolutely dour, unyieldingly rigid Hutchinson had become one of Luna's pastimes in the recent days.
"So you're the Freljordian royals, then - King Tryndamere and Queen Ashe, is that right?"
In response to the unconscious, wide-eyed nod that Ashe made to her, the Nightsilvian continued, "Well, since you're here now, I might as well take you to Kunkka's flagship, just some distance from here," Luna said to the two royals, who (mostly just the queen) were looking back and forth at her, her mount and the downed lieutenant colonel with incredulous expressions. "And don't worry about poor little James. Nova doesn't like meals who won't defend themselves."
As Nova playfully pawed at his face, Hutchinson could only fold his arms in quiet annoyance. "The grand admiral will have your head for that."
"Not sure about that," Luna said. "What I'm sure of, is that he'll need every ally he can get. Just ask Mortred."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ashe asked, folding her arms. "I thought this Mortred of yours is still locked up in prison?"
Luna mentally kicked herself for slipping her tongue. She then pretended not to hear the queen's question. "Your Majesties, really, we should not keep Kunkka waiting. He's a... a very impatient person, yes. You should see him go on and on about how his time shouldn't be wasted and- really, we should go." With all the elegance of a fumbling child, Luna uttered, right before ushering Nova off the lieutenant colonel and turning around to face the general direction of the Leviathan.
"We need to keep an eye on this one," Tryndamere leaned in and whispered to his wife. "Her presence reminds me of the biggest thorn in our hide these past few days, you know. Are you sure she isn't actually Sejuani in disguise, talking in strange foreign accent?" The king half-joked.
Ashe frowned and shook her head. Sometimes, Tryndamere's attempts at humor only soured her mood even more. "Don't be ridiculous. Would the Winter's Wrath beat one of her own best men into a bloody pulp in the middle of a fight against our forces? And besides, Sejuani's allergic to cats."
"Hmm-hm, and who's to say that she won't try to get over her allergies by smothering herself with Rengar's pelt?" Tryndamere smoothly replied, smirking at the infuriated look his wife was giving him.
Hutchinson was still on the ground, with no inclinations that he'll try to get up at all. "You should follow the Moon Rider, Your Majesties," He said, in a dull, uninterested tone of voice. "I'll be here for a while."
...
Avarosa/Cladd/Nightsilver/Violet Plateau
It wasn't much of a surprise for Ashe and Tryndamere to find that Kunkka wasn't caught unprepared by their unscheduled visit. There he was, standing at the wharf where his ship was docked, waiting for the Freljordians' arrival with a proud, cocksure posture. Strangely, he wasn't flanked by any of his soldiers, only by a single small man – the engineer from the battle of Cape Bjorgsen, as the queen recalled.
Without much ado, the two Freljordians followed the Moon Rider forwards to the grand admiral.
"Your Majesties," The admiral greeted with a bow. Luna dismounted and took her place next to him. "Here for a bit of revenge, I see."
Tryndamere heaved out a rough chuckle. "You could say that. Not that our attempt was successful, though."
Boush looked the two royals up and down, side to side before speaking, "He may not look it, but Admiral Kunkka is a very paranoid man, Your Majesties. Putting some eyes on some of the more crucial locations in Rakelstake and Narfasker eases his mind a bit. On my suggestion, of course."
Kunkka shook his head. "Whatever you say, Boush. Anyways, what brings the two of you to my flotilla, my lieges?"
"Nothing," Ashe answered with faux-cheer. "Absolutely nothing. We just noticed that we haven't had the slightest clue of what have you been doing these past few weeks, and–"
"And since you've already seen the interiors of our palace, we thought it's fair that we take a look at the interiors of your ship." Tryndamere finished for his wife as he gestured at the Leviathan. "After all, with a ship that large, you must be keeping something interesting in there."
"So basically," Kunkka began. "You wanted me to give you a tour of my flagship, like some sort of demented tour guide," The admiral's tone intensified dramatically, and he showed no signs of stopping. "In essence, you came all the way from Rakelstake to Narfasker to have a look at the interiors of the most powerful ship in the region of Vahlen, to which the Claddish king himself had deemed off-limits to any and all foreigners on the suspicion that they might've come to spy? Have the two of you any idea how plainly ridiculous your request is?!" By the time the last word left Kunkka's mouth, he looked almost ready to strangle someone.
Ashe was struck frozen by witnessing Kunkka's sudden, uncharacteristic outburst, while Tryndamere remained unfazed - slightly amused, even. Boush was staring at the admiral with wide-open eyes behind his goggles and an open mouth, and even Luna seemed caught off-guard.
Almost immediately after, the admiral deflated. "I'd be honored!" He chirped, as enthusiastic as could be. "You see, the ship's still under repairs, so we can't exactly go through some of the areas of the ship. However, the section of the Leviathan dedicated to the Radiant-Dire conflict is still intact, more or less. I realize that I haven't really given the two of you much in the way of information about the Defense of the Ancients, so I think this is a good opportunity for me to answer some of the questions you might have been inclined to ask me at one point."
Kunkka stopped talking when he noticed that the four people in his company were all staring at him incredulously, even Nova. He shrugged at them and continued, "Luna, Boush, since you two are veterans of this war like me, I'd very much prefer of you'd accompany us. Your insights would be appreciated."
He then looked back to the Freljordian royals. "Well, Your Majesties, let's have a go at it, shall we?" The admiral began to march forwards, into his ship. Luna and Boush followed soon after.
Before following the foreigners, Ashe and Tryndamere took the time to look at each other. The queen was still very much perplexed at Kunkka's erratic behavior, and the king tried not to share his wife's sentiments.
"I told you I should've gone alone," Ashe chided Tryndamere. "He knows me more than he knows you. He could be offended by your presence, for all we know."
Tryndamere shook his head. "Send my wife into the arms of a dashing foreign admiral of a fleet? Not a chance in hell, I would. I'm keeping an eye on the admiral, and if that meant I'd have to follow you wherever you went, then so be it."
The king was caught off-guard when Ashe hugged him. He took a bit of time before returning the affectionate gesture.
"Don't worry, Trynd." Ashe said, looking up at her husband. "I never had an eye for swashbuckling, fleet-commanding water sorcerers," She smiled. "I'm perfectly happy with what I've got."
The king chuckled, feeling a bit more secure. "That's my queen."
"Although..." Ashe hesitated. "Kunkka does have such a magnificent beard..."
On that statement, even Tryndamere must agree. He compared his goatee to the admiral's own mariner's seadog beard and immediately felt inadequate.
"We'll see about that in the next couple of weeks." Tryndamere said, with a look of determination on his face. "I hope you haven't forgotten how to braid."
...
Cladd/Hidden Temple
Hutchinson grudgingly took the gloved hand one of his soldiers offered to him.
"Up you go," The lieutenant pulled her commanding officer up. "It's the third time this week this happened. Are you sure you'll just take her crap like that, sir?"
The lieutenant colonel huffed. "I can handle worse things than one Nightsilvian's immaturity, soldier. I'd prefer she grow it out, instead of beating it out of her skull."
"Admiral Kunkka should do something about it," The lieutenant suggested, as she handed over the lieutenant colonel's personal effects. "I don't think he'd appreciate the Moon Rider badgering the head of the Guard."
Hutchinson shook his head as he retrieved his rifle and his hat from the guardswoman. "Well, I wouldn't like to come off as a weakling, either. Let's just forget about this incident, alright? If I get tired of it, I'll make sure you're the first to know."
The lieutenant nodded. "Yes, siー"
Suddenly, Hutchinson silenced the lieutenant by holding up an open palm. "Did you hear that?" He asked as his eyes darted all over his surroundings.
The faint sound of shouting and screaming could be heard in the distance, in the general direction of the Krumsholar Forest. If one listened closely, it could be discerned that some of the shouts were in fact barked orders, issued by some high authority to their underlings.
"Everyone, eyes open!" The lieutenant colonel ordered as he brought his rifle to bear. "Check your ammo, clean your sights! I want everyone to form a firing position facing the east, now!"
The Cerulean Guardsmen hurriedly positioned themselves behind what cover that can be found, while Hutchinson scanned the forest in front of him with a spyglass he smuggled from the keenfolk gunners. Everyone had their rifles trained downrange, loaded with fresh cartridges and primed for discharge.
So far, nothing seemed to be out of place besides the agonized screams in the air. Hutchinson and his men, so focused they were on trying to find threats to Port Narfasker, scarcely noticed the faint wind brushing at their faces and uniforms.
...
Cladd/Violet Plateau/Nightsilver/Avarosa
"Sooo... err," Luna uncertainly began as she walked next to Kunkka, towards the only room in the ship dedicated to preserving knowledge about the war of the Heroes. "What was that about? I never heard you raise your voice like that before."
"Yes, that was rather... strange of you." Boush concurred, flicking his pipe from one side of his mouth to another. "Was that an attempt of yours to catch the royals off-guard, Kunkka?"
Before giving his response, the admiral looked behind him. Strangely he didn't see Ashe and Tryndamere following as close as he had expected. It was a good distance, they were out of earshot.
Kunkka then threw his head back and laughed. It was a disturbing five seconds for Luna and Boush, seeing their leader looking like he just went off the deep end. After he calmed himself down, the admiral was quick to say,
"No, no. I just... I just needed to release some stress, that's all." The tired smile on his face was now gone. The two Heroes now noticed that beneath the confident face Kunkka put on, he was extremely exhausted.
The admiral closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Sighing, he said to his fellow Heroes, "There are a lot of things that could go wrong with this day, with me giving Ashe and Tryndamere access to the interiors of the ship. At least I know we can take down the Avarosan crew replacements easily if they proved to be our enemies, but powerful individuals with a whole nation at their side - individuals like Ashe and Tryndamere? I'm not too sure."
He grimaced, remembering that fateful day in service to the Radiant. "The Freljordians may have proven themselves as useful allies at present, but I still don't trust them; the royals might've come here to spy on us, their forces might be preparing to attack us for all we know - they might have lied to us about the Winter's Claw being the enemy, even. As an admiral, I can never be too comfortable, lest I find myself stabbed in the back and my companions murdered by the people whom I previously thought of as trusted friends."
Luna had long known where the conversation was heading to. "Ah, I see. You know what, Kunkka? I've known you since you came traipsing in to Nightsilver, to do all those ridiculous, degrading tasks for the princess to earn her trust, all in the name of securing our nation in a military alliance with yours."
Boush said nothing, but an amused smile was now present on his face.
"It was all quite necessary, I assure you." Kunkka was quick to reply. "Nightsilver is the nation that stands closest to Cladd, and... it also stood between Cladd and the general direction of Slom, the rogue state. Having Nightsilver as an ally–"
"A meatshield." Luna corrected.
The admiral cringed. "Not the word I'd use, but in essence, yes." He reluctantly agreed. "King Frederick wanted Nightsilver to be the first to withstand the brunt of any invading force from Slom before we could send in our own forces to assist you. It might seem harsh, but it was all necessary."
The Moon Rider folded her arms. "I didn't say I was objecting, admiral. Actually, I quite liked our opponents fresh and undamaged before they meet Dark Moon blades. It might actually make me take combat more seriously."
"But, I agree that Cladd has a much larger civilian population than Nightsilver does." She added. "If the Slomite raiders reached Cladd first, quite a few innocents will be ripe for the slaughter. On the other hand, most of Nightsilver's citizens are warriors to begin with; the Slomite scum would find a much harder time trying to raid Selemene's own."
"I'm glad you see my point of view." Kunkka said, smiling. He noted that they were now quite close to the Radiant-Dire chamber of the Leviathan.
Luna shared an assuring smile with the admiral, before adopting a more neutral expression once more. "But what I'm trying to say is, that I'd have known you to be a type of person who'd forgive and forget. A lot of time had already gone by since that incident with Gondar, as you might recall."
The mere mention of the Bounty Hunter made the admiral scowl in anger. "That traitor," He muttered. "I don't want to hear his damned name. Because of him, three of our own are dead. I dare say, he's almost as bad as Tidehunter."
"Well, have you forgiven Tidehunter, then?" Boush suddenly asked. "You don't seem to hold that much anger against the creature recently."
Now, the three Heroes have reached their destination. Kunkka, Luna and Boush stood just outside the door that should lead them to their desired chamber, which was a repository for artifacts and other things related to the war between the Radiant and the Dire.
Kunkka took a bit of time in silence. Sighing, he answered, "Yes. We've resolved any unfinished business between us and parted ways. He took something of mine..."
The admiral, with a bit more force than intended, shoved open the door to the chamber. Luna and Boush were very surprised to find a giant, musclebound, severed arm mounted on an ornately decorated plate on a wall inside the chamber. On the arm's clutches was a small ship's anchor, fit for a gun-brig or a two-masted sloop.
"...And I took something of his." Kunkka finished.
A more detailed inspection of the withered arm revealed that it once belonged to Tidehunter himself, the one he used to swing his preferred weapon around.
"But then I realized that the bastard can regenerate lost limbs, while despite common rumors, I could not." The admiral bitterly continued, as he walked deeper into the chamber, towards Tidehunter's severed arm.
Luna looked like she was about to ask him to clarify, but Boush came and provided her with an answer to her unspoken question. "Did you notice that Kunkka walked with a slight limp? He's improving over the months, but he hasn't quite gotten used to the artificial leg I've provided for him."
"All this time, Kunkka's been missing a bloody leg?" Luna asked with disbelief, more to herself than anyone. "I find that hard to believe; he fights just as well as he did back in the day - maybe even a bit better, actually."
"Like I said, he's been improving," The Tinker repeated. "This prosthesis is purely mechanical in nature, with servomotors serving as its main form of locomotion. In addition, there's a built-in mechanism I programmed in the limb that should assist the admiral's body in getting used to being attached to it in place of its organic counterpart."
Half of the words the keen scientist said was lost to the Nightsilvian. Not that she cared about how his machines worked, however. "When did he lose his leg to Tidehunter, then?" She asked.
Boush ran a hand to his beard and adjusted his goggles before answering, "I don't know, precisely. One day, the admiral went off to fight the Dire's forces with a few of our fellow Heroes. And when he returned several weeks later to the Radiant Ancient, he was already missing a leg from the knee down and bleeding profusely. There were bite marks and lacerations on the stump, which pointed to the Tidehunter as the culprit. We never saw the Tidehunter again, and presumed him dead."
"I say, weren't you in a reconnaissance run with your princess and Lyralei back then? Away from all the heavy fighting?" The Tinker added, as he folded his arms and adopted a contemplative pose. "No wonder you haven't heard of this piece of news. It caused quite a stir in our ranks to see the good admiral missing a limb, but it was a boost to our morale to hear that he hacked off Leviathan's arm in retaliation."
"Aye, I was." The Moon Rider nodded. "Thinking about it, I may have missed a lot of things that I should've known about."
"Sorry we lagged behind," It was then that Ashe and Tryndamere came into view. "We exchanged a few words before heading in. Have we missed anything?"
Luna and Boush cut short their conversation for the time being. "Nothing at all, Your Majesties," Boush said, as he slowly took his place near a group of containers. The keenish scientist noted a purple blade with a faded gold hilt jutting out from one of the containers. "The admiral will see to you now."
Kunkka, hearing of the commotion at the entrance of the chamber shook off the mixture of emotions boiling up within him and made his way to the Freljordian royals. "Here we are, Your Majesties. As you can see, this chamber of the ship is dedicated to remembering the war between two Ancients - the Radiant and the Dire."
The admiral gestured at the containers near the Tinker. "Those crates over there contain some of the artifacts the Ancient I fought for - the Radiant Ancient - had provided me for use against the Dire Ancient's forces."
"And over there, mounted on that wall is the... uh," The admiral hesitated, before calling out, "Boush, what's that machine of yours again?"
"It's a booth for showing moving pictures." The Tinker answered. "It's the more recent model... the Remembrancer-type, to be exact. This one is programmed to show some of the more renowned skirmishes the Heroes took part in, and the statistics of those battles. It also shows a comprehensive list of all the participants in the entire war."
"Right, well... that sounds boring." Blunt as a hammer, the admiral stated. "Let's skip that part and get started with the artifacts, then. I've found a lot of use with the sword called the 'Shadow Blade'."
Boush shook his head in exasperation and took the blade he spied on earlier, slowly presenting it to Kunkka. "It's one of the lightest blades in existence, with one nifty feature."
Kunkka took the weapon from the Tinker's hands. "This sword allows its bearer to blend in with his surroundings for a short amount of time," To demonstrate, the admiral's form faded and disappeared in rapid fashion.
Tryndamere was impressed. None of the League's summoners have access to such a weapon. "I could think of a lot of things I can do while unseen." He said.
"None of which you can get away with." Came Ashe's quick response. "Whatever they might be."
"I might be invisible," The admiral's disembodied voice resounded. "But that doesn't mean I'm invulnerable. If somebody had the skills or the equipment to detect you, then you are just as vulnerable to harm as you were before."
"All of this is all well and good, but..." Ashe walked near the Remembrancer machine. "What exactly are the Ancients? Are they even human?"
Kunkka's form gradually appeared in sight once more. "That's a good question. No, they're not human, not in the slightest." He answered, his voice taking a more distant, wispy tone. "Ancients are beings in possession of unparalleled magnitudes of power - capable of subjugating even the most powerful of gods and Fundamentals to do their bidding." The admiral placed the Shadow Blade leaning on a metallic, padlocked crate marked with the words 'DEMON EDGE - DO NOT HOLD!' in large, red letters.
"Luna, Boush and I were once just thralls to the Radiant Ancient as a consequence of us wandering too close to its sphere of influence, but in time, we grew resistances to its mind-manipulating abilities, but unfortunately, we found ourselves forced to protect it when the forces of its nemesis came to attack us." He continued, just as a faint onrush of wind grazed the back of his neck and ruffled his hair. "Much later still, we learnt its reasons as to why it was at war with the Dire Ancient, and we learned to sympathize with its goals. Though, some of our comrades have ill-intentions at mind, and a few took quite a while before they pledged themselves to our cause."
Kunkka stifled his next few words when he noticed that the room had gone dead silent. He noticed that everyone were staring wide-eyed at something behind him.
"Kunkka..." Before the admiral could ask what's wrong, Lanaya's voice spoke to him. Strange, he noticed that her speech seemed to be labored, as if she recently went through a strenuous task.
He slowly turned around. "Lanaya. I thought you said you'll be out of Narfasker for a while. Have you got something to repー" When he saw the Templar Assassin's heavily wounded state, Kunkka cut himself off.
"Bloody hell, what happened to you?" Kunkka took Lanaya by the shoulder, helping her stand. He looked to The Moon Rider. "Luna I need you to get Thunderwrath immediately! Get the surgeon too, if you must!"
Luna needn't be told twice as she promptly bolted off to the lower decks. Boush and the Freljordians did their best to help the admiral help Lanaya settle down to a stable, slumped position on one of the containers.
"This is grievous..." Boush noted as he did a scan on Lanaya's wounds with his goggles. "These cuts are made from bladed weapons; knives, axes and other nasty things."
"It doesn't matter," Tryndamere said. "Someone had the balls to attack one of the Freljord's honored guests. We'll find them and bring them to justice - by the sword if we have to."
Kunkka wasn't paying attention to anyone besides the Templar Assassin, however. "You've been through a lot worse than this, Lanaya. Purist's on the way, you'll get through this like always, don't you worry." He tried to remain calm, but the thought of anyone being skilled enough to reduce Lanaya to her current state was enough to unnerve him severely.
"Mortred..." Lanaya uttered weakly, but she didn't sound accusing. "She's still out there..."
Ashe shoved the Tinker to the side as she tried to get to Lanaya. "Mortred? The assassin did this to you? I thought we already had her in chains!"
"It's a long story, but Mortred is not a threat to us anymore, my queen." Kunkka stated. "We cut her a deal; she works for us now."
"What?" Incredulously, the queen exclaimed. "I... that doesn'tー"
"But that's not the point!" Lanaya tried to shout, but failed. Nonetheless, everybody's attention was now on her. "I was heading for Rakelstake when I was ambushed by soldiers in red armor... Mortred and a few others arrived to assist me, not long after. Mortred and I tried to hold our ground, but we got separated... and I had no choice but to fall back... and call for help."
The Freljordians' features were grim. "You were attacked by soldiers in red armor?" The king asked. "And they're headed for Rakelstake?"
"They were..." Lanaya slowly nodded, confirming Ashe and Tryndamere's fears.
Kunkka stood up. "Your Majesties, we need to get you to Rakelstake at once. It might be under attack, for all we know." He noticed that as part of the royals' disguise as commoners, they carried no weapons. An idea formed in his mind, once his eyes crossed the rather large amount of leftover artifacts from the Ancient conflict.
"Ashe, Tryndamere... would you like to see these artifacts in action today - in your hands?"
Kunkka then took the Shadow Blade and used it to pry open one of the crates, one that contained a terrible blade made with both Radiant ore and Dire stone, forged by the demonic smith Abzidian - the Demon Edge. Discarding the Shadow Blade once more and taking the demonic sword by the hilt, the admiral displayed Demon Edge for the two royals to see.
"Take whatever you think may suit you in these crates, except this one." He warningly gestured to the blade he was holding. "Only individuals like myself, Lanaya, Thunderwrath, Luna, Boush and Mortred are able to hold the Demon Edge without consequences. Take my word for it, you don't want to know what happens to those who wield this blade who aren't Heroes."
Tryndamere had to physically restrain himself from seizing the astoundingly impressive-looking blade from the admiral's grip. "I want to know what those consequences are. What are they?" He asked.
Kunkka's tone was deathly serious. "Trust me, my king. You really don't want to know."
...
Cladd/Avarosa
"Movement! I've got movement!" The lieutenant exclaimed as she sighted down the scope of her rifle. "Here they come, boys! Unknown contacts approaching from the Krumsholar!"
Hutchinson licked his lips as he held up a hand in the air, giving a color sergeant without an ensign his cue. Indeed, there were several dark figures making their way out of the forest and into the Claddish position.
The color sergeant huffed in a lungful of air before shouting at the top of his lungs,
"Company will fix bayonets!"
The Cerulean Guardsmen flicked at the blades clipped to their belts in preparation for combat. Hutchinson merely took a swig of water from his canteen and glanced at his watch.
"Fix! Bayonets!"
Simultaneously, the guardsmen all took their bayonets from their belts and attached them to front end of their rifles. Every one of those brandishing the Cerulean Guard colors were taught at boot camp that their bayonets were the only things keeping them from being devoured alive by the demons of the Cataract, and losing a bayonet almost certainly meant death in combat. Fortunately, with the invention of the ring bayonet decades prior, it was virtually unheard of for soldiers to find their bayonets missing from their rifles after emerging from a melee.
"Load!"
The guardsmen who haven't had new cartridges on their rifles loaded earlier proceeded to do so now. Hutchinson began humming a tune, like he always did before a battle. Finally, he spoke,
"At one hundred and fifty yards... volley fire." He ordered quietly, but his men all heard his call clearly. "Present!"
The Claddsmen at the first line of soldiers took aim at the advancing figures.
"Make ready, soldiers!" Hutchinson's voice bellowed. "Aim..."
"CLADDSMEN!" One of the figures shouted. "Don't shoot! Avarosan Royal Guard!"
Hutchinson was forced to smother his next few words. "Company, halt!" He issued his new order. "At ease, but be prepared!"
When the other party had reached a near enough distance to be seen clearly, Hutchinson couldn't help but be slightly uneasy. With their yellow and dark blue uniforms, their capes and their bows and arrows, it was true that the soldiers the Claddsmen were facing were Queen Ashe's royal guard, but instead of looking like the regal, composed protectors of the crown, the Avarosans looked liked they've been through a warzone or two. Some of them were even missing limbs or were hideously wounded, to which any of the Claddish medics were quick to attend to.
"Lieutenant Colonel James Hutchinson, 271st Regiment of Foot, Cerulean Guard." Hutchinson forthrightly introduced himself to the Avarosan in charge as she approached his fortified position. "You lot look like you've been through shit..." He all but forgot about protocol thereafter. "What in the Soul's name happened out there?"
The lead Avarosan steadied herself by using her broken longbow as a crutch. "We need your kin's help, Claddsman. Three whole battalions of Noxian soldiers are attacking Rakelstake." She answered hurriedly.
Hutchinson frowned. "I'm sorry, but what're 'Noxians'?"
"There's no time to explain," The Avarosan said. "In summary, they're here to help the Winter's Claw, in retaliation for the Demacians sending troops to help us out."
The lieutenant colonel was about to question further, when the admiral and the Freljordian sovereigns came running. Strangely, the king and the queen seemed to be wielding peculiar weapons that they did not have in their person when they first arrived in Narfasker.
"Lieutenant colonel, I need a report." Kunkka wearily said as he watched battle-worn Avarosan soldiers come in waves inside the port.
Hutchinson saluted before complying with, "We heard shouting and screaming coming from the general direction of the forest, sir. I gave the order to form firing lines in the event that whatever's happening out there came for us next, we'll be ready." The head guardsman gestured to the lead Avarosan. "According to this woman, they've been attacked by a force of 'Noxian soldiers'... whatever they might be."
"Noxians?" Tryndamere cut in, shoving his way to the two men. He had a giant, orange-glowing axe strapped to his back. "I knew it. I should've turned away the Demacians' offer for help. Sejuani's forces now stand much stronger than before."
"Well, they probably didn't count on Kunkka's forces," Ashe turned to the grand admiral. She seemed to have a red and white crossbow slung over her shoulder. "You are with us, aren't you, admiral?"
Kunkka sternly nodded. "I'm not one to abandon allies." He then turned to look at Hutchinson. "James, have you any word on Mortred? Lanaya said that she's still out there in the front."
The guardsman shook his head. "Nothing yet, sir. I've onlyー"
"Mortred? Is the blurry lass one of yours, admiral?" The lead Avarosan interposed. "Bloody good assassin, that one. She does the work of fifteen of my men combined, and I've no doubt she's still with the soldiers I've left to keep Krumsholar under Avarosan control."
"I see." The admiral folded his arms and put a hand to his chin. After a few fleeting seconds, he turned to Hutchinson once more. "I need you to coordinate your men to work with Miss..."
"Atlasdottir." The lead Avarosan responded firmly. "Housecarl Arelia Atlasdottir, of the Avarosan Royal Guard."
"Right, then. James, I need you to follow Miss Atlasdottir's lead. Being a native to the Freljord, she probably knows more about the local areas more than any of us do." Kunkka ordered to the lieutenant colonel. "Get right to it, soldier."
Hutchinson nodded. "Right away, admiral." The guardsman then turned to Atlasdottir.
"Housecarl, come with me. I need you to answer some questions about your men's strengths and weaknesses, capabilities and specialities, that sort of thing. Also, do you know how to handle a rifle? In that state, your bow isn't fit for combat anymore." The head guardsman hurried off to brief his men, followed by the lead Avarosan and her own men.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Luna said to the admiral, her hand already on a glaive. "Mortred is having all the fun to be had. Let's not waste any more time."
"I'm... I'm quite content to stay here." Boush stated, his tone hesitating. "After all, my expertise isn't in combat, but in scien–"
Kunkka took the Tinker by one of his missile pods and dragged him forwards. "Come on, Boush. We're going after unknowns here, and your expertise is studying the unknown. You're coming with us."
...
The Veil
Mortred parried a blow from a red soldier's axe with her blade. The soldier hefted his axe once again to make another strike, but by the time he was ready to bring his weapon down, blood was already pouring out of the large gash Mortred made on his throat. He tried to clutch at his wound, but to his dismay, he found that his arms were already slashed off from their sockets, blood generously pouring out of the stumps where his arms were mere seconds ago.
Amateurs, she then sidestepped another attacker's strike from behind before doing a quick spin for momentum. The Veiled Sister followed up her spin with a horizontal slash with her blade, easily bisecting the soldier into two bleeding halves. Mortred took a split-second to survey her surroundings for more hostiles, but to her surprise, she found that the red soldiers were now withdrawing from Krumsholar, and the Avarosans are slowly taking back lost ground.
Suddenly, a thrown knife made a cut in Mortred's cloak, narrowly missing her. She turned her head to the direction of the projectile, and had barely any time to see another two blades simultaneously aimed at her legs cutting the wind right for her. Fortunately, she was blurry enough and quick enough to evade the blades.
I'm getting tired of this, she thought. The Phantom Assassin prepared herself for yet another soldier who likely had no idea what he's in for, attacking a Sister of the Veil. However, Mortred was not to face a mere grunt, when the attacker - a hooded man wielding a blade directly mounted to his arm and donned in a cape adorned with other smaller blades - appeared into view.
"You've been an exceptionally annoying wrench in our plans, outsider." The man, who was clearly another assassin, said. "Since you don't seem to be inclined to run, I'm assuming you haven't got an inkling of who you're about to cross." He said, clearly confident in himself.
"No, I don't. But I'm also not inclined to care." Mortred replied. "I've clashed blades with countless other assassins before, just as arrogant as you. None of them lived through the day they met me, a Veiled Sister." She stated matter-of-factly. "Perhaps it is you who needed running, hm?"
The hooded assassin merely laughed off Mortred's response. "You're a brave little girl. I like that." He brandished his blade. "Let's just see if your courage can match up to your skills with a blade."
The Phantom Assassin made a ghastly smirk. "Try me."
In an instant, the assassin had disappeared from Mortred's view. Mortred knew exactly where her opponent had vanished to, to which she quickly turned around and parried a downward slash from the assassin's armblade.
The two assassins locked weapons for a few seconds, with one another trying to overpower the other through brute strength. Mortred, who primarily relied on her agility and her wits during assassinations, had to break off the blade-lock when her adversary proved to be superior to her when physical strength is concerned. Not one to leave contact with the enemy without throwing a single punch, Mortred followed her move with a lightning-fast, diagonal strike of her blade to the assassin's knee.
The assassin grunted in pain when Mortred's weapon made contact with his skin, but he was quick to respond by jumping back and throwing a volley of circular daggers at the Veiled Sister. Mortred was caught too unprepared to evade the projectiles, and as a result, her chesplate and her cloak now had minor gashes on them. Mortred retaliated by hurling her own volley of daggers, but her opponent merely swatted them from the air with his armblade before rushing at her once more, planning to do a series of attacks that should leave the Phantom Assassin dead in a matter of seconds.
Seeing her opponent trying to utilize brute force to put an early end to the fight, Mortred let slip a single dagger from her sleeve to the assassin to disorient him, to which she followed up by teleporting directly behind the man's back.
The assassin easily swatted the flung dagger heading for him, but once he did, his opponent wasn't there where she was anymore.
"Pas impressioné." A mocking voice said from behind him. He wasn't expecting Mortred to meet his charge head-on.
The assassin spun around and was pelted by a handful of dead leaves the Veiled Sister threw at his face. He felt like laughing at such an amateurish move, but he was forced to bite his tongue when Mortred followed the leaves up with a pair of throwing daggers to his chest.
With two steel daggers firmly imbedded in his gut, the assassin could only raise his armblade to parry a terrible blow of grace from Mortred's weapon. When the tempered Noxian steel met with the opponent's veilforged blade, the assassin was genuinely surprised at the force of the blow that reverberated within his weapon. He watched with awe and fascination as his armblade shattered and fell apart around his hand, leaving him deprived of his main weapon.
"You should not have crossed a Sister of the Veil," Mortred said, upon leaving her adversary without a proper weapon. She raised her blade to strike him down. "If you don't mind, I need to kill you now." The Phantom Assassin brought her weapon down, intending to leave a fatal mark on her vanquished opponent's throat.
But before she could do so, the assassin simply vanished from sight, right before her eyes. Unfortunately, the blades on his cape and his person did not disappear along with him, as they apparently took minds of their own and dispersed themselves to form a perfect circle around Mortred.
I don't like where this is going, thought Mortred, as she suspiciously eyed the floating blades around her. Not a second later, the blades all swooped down on the Phantom Assassin all at once, intending to skewer her.
The Veiled Sister, despite being exhausted from all the combat she took part in, managed to dodge most of the blades, with her blurriness playing a major part in saving her from being impaled. She emerged out of her ordeal with only a damaged, heavily scratched platemail and a shredded cloak.
"Volley fire, present! Fire!" Suddenly, the reverberating sounds of rifles barking in the distance were heard over the more common sounds of battle. "Independent; fire at will!" More rifle discharges were heard. The red soldiers are now on full retreat from the Krumsholar Forest, to Oracle knows where.
The Phantom Assassin sighed as her shoulders slumped. Lanaya pulled through.
"Heh, it looks like your friends are here."
Mortred looked up to the trees and found the assassin there, standing on a branch. He was just in the process of removing a dagger from his chest.
"Our fight's going to have to be held later... Mortred." He said, his tone mocking as he uttered his opponent's name. "You'd best be watching your back from now on, as the Blade's Shadow will be watching you closely."
The assassin pulled out the dagger from himself with a slight grunt, before throwing it back at Mortred as his final attack. The Veiled Sister simply took a single step out of the way of the blade before the assassin took off to the trees and vanished for good.
It wasn't long before the sound of boots marching on fallen leaves entered Mortred's hearing. She turned to the sound and found Kunkka, Luna and her mount Nova, Boush on his winterized combat platform and the Avarosan king and queen, all in their battle attire and looking battle-wearied.
"There you are," Kunkka greeted when he caught sight of Mortred. A prodigious amount of blood coated Finblade and his cuirass. "We've been scouring all over the Krumsholar looking for you. We thought you dead, but thank the Soul we're wrong."
Tryndamere tilted his head to his wife's side. "Are you as confused as I am?"
Ashe nodded. "Very much so."
Luna had just finished wiping the blood from her face. "So, is Mortred still fit for battle? We still have a whole city to defend and a generous amount of scum to ride down."
"Easy there, Luna. We'll get to that." The admiral turned to Mortred. "You've already done more than enough, Mortred. Lanaya is under Purist's watch in Narfasker, and the Krumsholar is being retaken from these Noxians as we speak. We still have Rakelstake itself to worry about, but you can take your leave from here."
"I can still fight." Mortred responded. "I just need something to drink. A clarity, if you will?"
The admiral smiled as he fished out a small blue flask, containing magical, mind-clearing water. "Remember the time back then, when we still used tangoes?" He handed over the flask, to which the Phantom Assassin hurriedly did away. "I used to pester Ezalor to give me some of his mana in exchange for tangoes."
Mortred wiped her mouth with a palm after consuming the contents of the flask. "Ah, yes. Thinking about it, I find it rather alarming that we ate entire trees before."
"You what?" The two monarchs simultaneously exclaimed.
"I can offer a scientific explanation to the 'tango' phenomena," Boush cut in. "Basically, whenever a person finds his courage and his physical health rather lacking, he mayー"
Kunkka interrupted him. "Boush, Rakelstake plus Avarosans plus Noxians equals warzone. Remember that equation?"
The Tinker sheepishly nodded. "Oh, yes. Sorry. I get carried away at times."
...
Demacia
Garen used his greatsword to cleave through a Noxian soldier's body. As a man who believed in causing as much damage with every strike of the sword, the Might of Demacia didn't stop at merely splitting one man in half, but he continued with his swing and went on to bisect two other hostile soldiers besieging his flanks.
"Stand fast, Vanguard!" The captain cried out as he fought with his men. "Rakelstake will not fall to the Noxians this day!"
A squad of Noxian marksmen singled Garen out in the disorganized throng of soldiers clad in either blue and gold, or red and black. They took aim with their muskets and fired, easily managing direct hits on the Dauntless Vanguard captain thanks to his bulk.
The amount of armor Garen was wearing did wonders at stopping Noxian bullets just as well as axes and swords, but he felt the musket balls that struck him nonetheless. Turning his sights to the offending musketmen, the captain hefted his sword menacingly as he slowly broke off into a sprint, intending to further whet his blade with the blood of Demacia's most hated enemies.
By the end of the day, it was clear to everyone that Rakelstake would be a lot less white and a lot more red.
Other Noxian soldiers tried to block the captain's advance, but he either merely swatted them away, or he had to resort to stabbing them with his sword a couple of times when they proved too strong to ignore.
However, Garen was not meant to reach his main targets this day. His sprint was halted when he was nearly decapitated by a wayward axe swing that he was quick enough to evade by diving down into the snowy ground.
Pulling himself up to one knee, Garen barely had any time to raise his sword to block another swing of an axe from none other than General Darius himself - the infamous Hand of Noxus, the Butcher of Kaladoun.
"The summoners aren't here to save you now, captain." The general quietly uttered through clenched teeth as he pushed down his axe even further. "It's such a shame that we did not have the permission to bring Katarina around. She would've been ecstatic at the prospect of seeing you die."
Garen knew where Darius was getting at, and he didn't fall for it. "I'd be happy at being given the opportunity to do away with the Hand of Noxus and the Sinister Blade in one fell swoop, but alas, 'tis not meant to be."
Darius' stern, emotionless expression was replaced with that of silent fury. He leaned in to Garen, just close enough so he could see the fear in the Demacian captain's eyes just before he takes off his head. "I've had enough of this banter. Swain's crow will have a feast with your eyes. You'll die here, with the rest of your Dauntless Vanguaー"
The captain broke the bladelock with a well-placed fist to the general's jaw, to which he followed up by smashing his armored shoulder into the staggered general, knocking the Noxian to the ground.
Darius was swift to retaliate, however. Before he could even stand up, the general used his axe to sweep Garen's feet from under him, bringing his opponent to the ground along with him. Being the first of the two men up to his feet, Darius brought down his armored boot on Garen's chestplate to render him immobile, after kicking his sword away. The general then raised his weapon in the air, intending to land a vicious blow of his axe on the captain, one powerful enough to pierce his armor and strike an artery, or some other vital organ.
Knowing that trying to move out of the way of Darius' axe would be a pointless endeavor, Garen made the decision to go on the offensive for once. Taking some lessons from his scuffle with the Phantom Assassin, Garen learned to bring along a couple of large knives hidden on his person as his emergency weapons. Retrieving one of the blades from his side, the captain reeled his arm back and swiftly plunged his blade deep into the general's leg.
Darius didn't grunt or scream in pain when Garen skewered his leg with a blade long enough to be considered a shortsword, but he did withdraw from the captain's form.
"How very... Noxian, of you, captain." Darius uttered with pained amusement as he pried the knife jutting from his leg. "You're learning how to innovate, for once. Did away with all the 'honor and justice', have you?"
While Darius was busy tending to his leg, Garen had already retrieved his sword from the ground. He looked around him and saw that the battle for Rakelstake is still raging as hard as before, with no indication of slowing down.
"You've brought a lot of men to the Freljord, general." Garen noted. "This conflict is turning a lot worse every day, and you Noxians just made it even worse by allying with Sejuani's band of unwashed scum." He looked around again, this time catching sight of a line of Claddish infantry forming up from the west.
"The more men I have, the more comfortable I am." Darius emotionlessly replied. "Noxus appreciates the ideologies presented by the Winter's Wrath. Leaving Sejuani to be pointlessly put down by the Avarosans is counterproductive to our plans for the Freljord."
"Have you forgotten about Kalamanda?" Garen prepared himself. "The League will arrive to diffuse this war before it escalates any further. Your efforts here will be rendered futile."
Darius ominously chuckled. "Ha, you give the summoners more thought than they deserve. When will you Demacians learn that the League is getting weaker with each passing day? They barely managed to call for a ceasefire in Kaladoun; what makes you think that they'll do something about the Freljord?"
In a way, Garen knew that Darius was correct; the Institute of War's power is starting to wane, its influence declining. When Noxian forces attacked and looted the Demacian territories at the Kaladoun Marshes, the summoners could only muster up the manpower and resources necessary to call for a halfhearted attempt at an armistice. It was child's play to assume what happened next.
"The summoners, they don't matter anymore, do they?"
Darius grimly nodded as he primed himself for another round with Garen. "They won't intervene."
"Before one of us dies for his city-state, let me ask you a question, Darius." The captain said, in an effort to stall Darius from dedicating his attention back to the true conflict at hand.
"By all means - ask, Demacian." Darius replied, almost sounding amicable. "These few words you will say shall be the last ones you'll ever utter, at any rate."
Garen took one last glance at his surroundings. The Claddsmen were now cutting down swathes of Noxians in their path, thanks to the efforts of a certain admiral and his companions. "What makes you think that your forces will be able to take Rakelstake, general?"
Darius snorted in contempt. "Simple. The army I've brought with me is naught but a vanguard force; you think this is the worst that could happen to Rakelstake? Hah, just wait until you see the combined might of Noxus and the Winter's Claw. Sejuani is marching to take her city from the Avarosans as I speak."
While the revelation that Darius' Noxian force was just a relatively smaller one compared to the main force scheduled to arrive at some point in the future was disconcerting, Garen refused to be disheartened. The Noxians did fail to account for one thing.
"Do you hear the guns barking, general?"
Darius' stoic façade faltered for a split second. "Yes, you've managed to get the Piltovians to your side; our plans covered for their appearance. For their efforts against Noxus, they'll die like the rest of your soldiers today."
Garen shook his head. He resisted the urge to give the general a smug grin. "All the Piltovians are still in Gufuskalar, Noxian. These firearms seem terribly louder than mere Piltovian muskets, don't you think?" A sharp, ear-splitting sound of a laser discharging echoed across the battlefield, setting it far apart from the typical sounds of swords clashing and guns firing.
The Noxian general glared at the captain suspiciously. "So you've got yourselves some Zaunite mercenaries. We've planned for them; they won't receive special treatment, they won't be spared."
"Wrong again, general. Tell me, have you ever heard of the Kingdom of Cladd?" With a barely-repressed smile, Garen asked. "Have you seen what's happening to your western flank over the last few minutes?"
Darius' cold, unemotional composure fell apart completely when he turned his head to regard the men he posted to the west of his main assaulting force to keep the Avarosan Royal Guardsmen from flanking the the largest concentration of his troops.
Instead of seeing a strong, steadfastly resolute line of Noxian soldiers battling against the weakened remnants of the queen's personal guard, Darius came upon a grim sight: his men are on the verge of breaking after sustaining so many casualties from not just a stronger-than-anticipated Royal Guard force, but from another force of well-drilled musketmen in blue and white, fielding powerful muskets capable of firing volley after volley of bullets in rapid succession. The general was quick to assume that Talon's strike force had failed their duties.
"One hundred yards! Fire by ranks!" A foreign officer's voice bellowed. "First rank... FIRE!" The troopers at the front unleashed three volleys of gunfire before kneeling down to let their comrades behind have a clear line of sight. "Second rank, FIRE!" The secondary line of foreign musketmen followed the procedure. "Third rank, FIRE!"
Darius' own troops, equipped mainly with heavy armor and melee weaponry with only the barest minimum of ranged weapons at hand, were cut down by musket fire with little chance of retaliating back. Some Claddsmen fell when they were shot by muskets or other projectiles, but their casualties were practically nothing compared to what death they were inflicting in turn.
The general felt his rage overcoming him. The bastard of a captain distracted him from the war he was supposed to coordinate his forces in.
"You failed to account for their appearance, did you not?" Garen tauntingly asked the general. "Poor General Darius... neglecting to remember the golden rule when it comes to plans: they don't survive contact with the enemy."
"ENOUGH!" The Hand of Noxus roared. "This ends NOW!" Lifting his axe above his head, Darius charged the Demacian captain.
Garen made no efforts to stop the smug, lopsided grin from forming on his lips. He lifted his greatsword in preparation to meeting blades with his hated adversary once more.
But before Darius could even reach a striking distance to Garen, he felt himself drained of life and exhausted when a harmful streak of moonlight came from the skies and struck him hard. The general tried his damnedest not to fall on his knees as he shambled for Garen, when he was suddenly blasted by a laser beam from behind.
The Hand of Noxus was weakened, blinded and in command of a losing army; his armor a scorched ruin and his cape in burning tatters. Darius aimlessly wobbled about the battlefield in his disoriented state, until he was further punished when a geyser of frosty water erupted from under him, blasting him several meters up and away from sight.
Grand Admiral Kunkka, followed by a beast-riding warrior and a small, yordle-like man with a miniature weapons platform mounted on his shoulders, appeared in sight, battered and bloodied, but still as eager for combat as before.
"Admiral," Garen greeted with a nod. "I'd have a feeling you'd show up."
"These Noxian blighters had the gall to harm not one, but two of my own, captain." Kunkka responded, with steel in his tone. "I'm predisposed to make them pay for that." Without another word, the admiral and his companions waded back into the fight once more.
The captain sighed a breath of relief. Finally, things are looking up for the Avarosan city. Hopefully, Ashe and Tryndamere are still alive, leading their people to drive the Noxians out of their city.
The Might of Demacia tugged at his sword and slowly made his way to join the admiral in his charge, but a phantom presence lingering at his side made him wait, if only for a moment.
"Garen." Mortred paid her greetings to the captain as she materialized into plain view.
"Mortred," Garen amiably acknowledged the Veiled Sister. "Killed your fair share of Noxians today, have you?"
With an amused smile tugging at her lips, Mortred said, "Perhaps more than enough, captain. Where's Lux?"
"I sent her out with Quinn on a reconnaissance run yesterday, to monitor Winter's Claw activity." The captain answered forthrightly. "She and the lieutenant should be back later today. Why do you ask?"
The Veiled Sister shrugged. "I would think that she wouldn't approve in the slightest of my presence near you. Not after the incident."
The captain laughed. "Well, my sister isn't here, is she not?" An explosion near the Demacian and the assassin shook the ground, reminding the both of them that there's still a war going on.
"Come on, Noxian forces aren't routed yet." Garen took Mortred by a shoulderpad with a gauntleted hand to help her up to her feet. "They don't give up easy."
Mortred looked around her surroundings after securing her footing. After seeing the Noxian army completely dominated by a combined Avarosan, Demacian and Claddish force, she drew her blade once more. "They can't be stubborn for long, I say."
The captain nodded. "With the two of us at their backs? I think not."
Unexpected unscheduled update, ho!
Exams are about to come and bury me. Needless to say, you probably won't be seeing much of me in the next few weeks. Maybe.
Actually, now that I think about it, why not use the old lore as a template, and then bring elements from the new lore that shouldn't compromise the story too much?
Also, I'd like to extend my thanks to Chill and Relax for some of the ideas in this story, including the future ones that will shock souls and boggle minds. Thanks, you 'Lawd of Sweg'. Your supports are gr8, m8.
SneakyWalrus: Yes, actually. I have some pretty major plans for Jakiro. Also, two of the Fundamentals are making an appearance. Chaos Knight also seems pretty overpowered lorewise, what with him being literally unkillable and as old as creation.
WxikkY: Glad I made your day. I hope this one makes your day again.
Demosthenes2211: Thanks for the input! And yes, this story will be sticking woth the old lore, while taking some of the cooler things the new lore will bring.
Skipper331: Not a problem, mate. There's pretty plenty of plot advancement in this chapter.
I'm afraid I haven't seen that before (I never relied on anything but Valve and the Dota 2 wiki for lore information), and yes, I've been actually changing some of the more confusing bits of the Dota 2 lore given by Valve, for the benefit of having a better flow and storytelling.
League matches would actually be part of the plot, so I couldn't write about the Institute's decline and fall. Well, the latter part, anyway. In this story, the League is significantly weakened. Oh, and the new lore would probably take several months or maybe years to reach the size and scope of the old lore, so I'd have to say no on that one. People also have a preference for the old lore over the new, though I have to say, that Shurima stuff really does look neat.
Heavenian: Yes, but wait, there's more! Io and Enigma can travel through worlds! And we might also have Dark Seer and the three demons, but I'm not sure.
HS777: Well... thinking about those match-ups, they make a little less sense than PotM and Lycan. I mean, we're not even sure what Rubick is (is he even human? Come to think of it, with Lanaya's pointed ears and her pink/purplish skin, is TA even human?), and I'm completely stumped at making reasons as to why he should he find TA appealing and vice-versa. As for DR and Silencer, the only thing they seem to have in common is their preference for silence, so this pairing isn't much easier for me to digest than TA and Rubick. I'll have to think about this in length. Sorry if my response isn't to your liking.
Rie Gonne: I love Sven. Does that count for romance?
Eheh, joking aside, Sven has a good chance of appearing, and as every person in FanFiction should know, some romantic elements in a story make everything all the sweeter.
Why? I don't know. I thought Twilight was terrible.
This sentence is false. Why am I writing random stuff.
heavenschoir: Sniper. Mmm... Delicious food.
Kael not Carl: Trust me, Invoker's a walking mass of ego, and walking masses of ego are characters too good to be wasted in a story. Also, Valve actually said that Invoker's name is 'Carl' now. Bad news, I guess?
