Chapter 9: The Raven's Grin
With Riven out of the picture for the time being, it only left Ion to follow up on his initial reason for him to come here. To continue to train his body for the physical strain he would end up undergoing on the fields of justice was probably something that he would need to anticipate as perhaps being his greatest trial of all. He would let Riven go without anything said if she refused, though to forge an alliance with someone of her stature and position would already elevate his own position. She was probably somewhat well known for her intention that is to eventually make Noxus into something better, though alone, as the others would rather see it crumble down into nothingness, she would have no assistance from anything or anyone in doing so. Thus her only ability would be to become stronger in the meantime. So it was understandable for her to be skeptical when someone just pops in and offers her a hand in her dream to turn it into reality.
Taking out the massive greatsword from the sheathe on his back, he would adjust to the new found weight of the armor before taking up his shield as well. The strain already building and mounting on him, though this was perhaps due to not training for a bit. He had no time to reflect on his days spent on Ionia nor on the trip towards it. He was here and there was little more that he can do after cementing his will to change Noxus into something different. Not to accommodate the tastes of the outside states but to simply keep it on the reigns so that it does pass away from the colonial attitude it currently has.
Standing tall, shield arm pressed to his chest, sword in one hand kept upright, the muscles were tensing to keep themselves from simply collapsing atop of each other and leaving a man in armor crumpled atop of himself. The iron training doll looked less human than the ones the Noxian training camp had, they were probably like that to make it simulate attacking a proper person easier. The league just wanted to supply them simply for training, though one would wonder how long they would last here, at least with Ion around.
A single swing left a gash within the scratched iron, starting off at a diagonal slash, the twist would allow him to pull back the shield and go in front of the sword arm half-arc to prevent his side from being left open to the imaginary enemy. Another slash, the grinding of steel upon iron as it was slowly ripped open as the shield was raised to jab at the face as well, allowing the swing to go uninterrupted.
Hours into the training, nearing to the end. The iron doll of a human would be left to shambles, apparently being thoroughly ground down into the individual pieces. Putting the blade back, he would slide the tip over his shoulder to catch the sheathe, tilt it up and let it slip down and in with little work on his part. He was sweating profusely, muscles aching for rest but he gave them no such pleasure, yet. The only rest a man such as himself can attain is when they are either dead or asleep, as it is the closest thing to it anyway. While on his way to the chambers again, just after leaving the training area with a bit of a mess behind him, he would feel the air change instantly. Having been part of the army and in battle before, he knew what this weight was. Something of death its self.
Keeping the shield out, he knew what ever it was, would intend going for his back. Most of his spine and a kidney was protected by the sheer size of the blade he had on his being. The high collar of the armour protected the neck along with the sheer thickness, it would take a close-ranged bolt of a crossbow to puncture through. Combined with the helmet that was thicker from behind and travelled down to the shoulders, supporting the weight of the armour and doubling as additional protection, combined with the thick cloth to prevent it scraping the skin, would at least soften any blunt blows taken. The armour, in essence, was entirely anti-assassin. Double reinforcements on the vital areas with a thin, compact scale-mail layer between the two full steel plates along with leather padding to act to 'catch' projectiles if they puncture through the steel, that was enough reason on it's own to prevent any concealable projectile from being effective without constant use.
The movement was heard, the light landing of feet on the ground, instantly, the right arm was raised and body started to twist, going for a reverse-spinning backfist. The weight resting on the left foot as the right slipped a slight behind him and was used to further accentuate the spinning motion, adding more momentum to the attack. Feeling it connect with something, he felt a moment of resistance before breaking through and connecting again. Upon completing the spin, the shield was raised and back arched in a defensive position, hand not quite going for the hilt of the blade. Such a thing was for training, his shield arm would probably be strong enough alone to take care of any attackers this subtle.
Looking down, he saw the figure, sprawling red under her. He knew it was not blood, lacking the smell of a fresh spill, the figure would get up with a...female grunt?
"Well that's one way to fuckikn' greet a tap to the shoulder." the irritated voice came.
Unyielding, the golden eyes would simply proceed to burn with their intensity, taking a moment to see properly who it was, the scar over the eyebrow and cheek would mean only one person. Along with that demeanour.
"Ah, sinister blade." raising up, seeing how it was another champion, he would feel a slight more at ease, with the judgement coming from the summoners if one were to assault or attack another champion did tend to come with harsher consequences. Though he was surprised at late night, who was he to not know if an assassin had come for his life? Well, she did fill out the prior part of that with her occupation, though the latter was left to be known.
"Not even an apology? I'd damn well gut you here and now if-"
Cut off my the instant reaction from the man, despite the aching muscles, he would return to his previous position, fist curled and ready to strike.
"You know, it's not quite worth doing that to you. I'd forsake the position Noxus has for something simple as you." Well, he did not know how far she would go really, though neither did he know what the institute would do if he was dead. Not that he was willing to find out. "I'd tear your face off though on the fields of justice, though it is always better to know one's enemy, no?" He did not relent from his stance, if he were to do so, an opening would be given, she could strike. He guessed the only reason for her relenting from actually attempting to see his corpse on the ground would be due to the sheer amount of armour he had on him. Unable to simply slit his throat and leave, she would choose this kind of approach. She most likely knew about his origins, being so close to the Grand General himself. Thus it was no coincidence that she were to simply bump into him here.
"Quiet type are you? I suppose that would let my mind linger to guess what your screams are like, all the more to anticipate and savour, I guess." leaning back a touch and placing a finger to her lips in thought. Brandishing the shield unto his back, covering the entire upper half of it, he would simply turn and proceed to walk away. There was no use in conversing with Katarina, delaying his time towards taking off the armour only made his own situation somewhat worse but would simply grit his teeth and endure. It was the only thing he could do for now that is. While walking, he would turn to look over his shoulder, emerald eyes glistening in the darkness, eager for death.
They were sickening.
He respected her capabilities as one of the top that there was, though she did apparently have an adversary of sorts, though not entirely part of the army. At the very least, it seemed like as if there was some restraint, albeit forced due to the leash the institute had on the champions here. He would not regret delivering the hit towards the other, though the lack of blood in her mouth was a touch concerning. Was he this tired? Did a few days of relaxing, well, more of missing out on training, really punish him so much? This was quite concerning. Regardless, thoughts now were directed towards the next two things, shower and bed.
"So, what do you think of him?" a figure stepped out of the shadows, surprisingly stealthy from such a figure.
"I couldn't gauge much. What I do know, is that he would be fun to keep~" she teased, "Hearing the same screams from the Ionians and Demacians are nothing like that of the grief that comes from a traitor of Noxus." a dagger idly taken out and flicked about in a nonchalant manner.
"Will he be a problem?" the question came with some intensity to it, a mission, in a way, being delivered, or a test.
"Well, even after hours of swinging that massive blade and armour about left a mark" rubbing her cheek some, the faint looks of a bruise forming, "If he keeps that crap on, I would say you better get him under the axe, if he does take it off on the field though, I sure would like to see if he has blood to match the colour of that arm of his." a wry grin forming on her face. She always did look forward to new screams filling her memory, to block out and bury further what darkness resided there.
"We shall see tomorrow then, until then get yourself cleaned up. I am not used to seeing such a thing on your face." a hint of distaste towards the fact that she actually was struck tinged the man's voice, though nothing more.
"Oh no, I will keep it and touch it, I like a man who can throw a quick punch after all, lets me check if I can shove a blade in their shoulder before they throw another one my way." her hand gently cupping her face, cradling the temporary brand Ion left upon it.
As they left, the pitch black raven fluttered away, unblinking, as the two figures went their own way. The only audible sound going down the halls was the minor clicking sound of an object constantly making contact with the ground.
The next day was like anything else, well, he would try to make it as such. The place was still alien to him, or rather, he was still alien to the place. A lot of people seem to have settled in and become rather comfortable by the end of things. The body ached from the previous strain it had endured the night before, though as always, he would ignore it. The furnishings of the room were simple, it was left to feel quaint to the man. A large cupboard to house an array of clothing items, while bearing little, he was told that the league gives generous funding thus in the city that is being built around the Institute would simply have the items they buy credited to their League account. This was an option readily available to the champions and other such workers of the institute that soon was housed in just about most, if not all of Valoran.
It would be hard to say that he just went in and had breakfast, just going into the room, there was an even larger gathering of people than before, noise abound. It was louder than the mess halls back at the barracks. All the same, it was too disturbing for him to do so peacefully. Just as he was about to get in line, he felt something bump against him, blinking and looking down, the glimpse of a glint, thinking it was steel, would turn out to be the woman's hair. Looking up and winking at him in secret 'thanks' for letting her pass, he would simply look back up over most of the line to see how fast things were progressing.
"Well someone certainly lacks manners, not a good morning or recognition towards my thanks?" she would chirp at him, he was merely wearing a light t-shirt and some loose trousers. At a glance, he looked ordinary, except for the sheer bulk of his frame from his training. He would take the usual, whatever meats were available, that were some lightly smoked, flame grilled sausages, sunny-side-down eggs, strips of bacon and a small cut of chicken breast. Moving up to the salads section, he bumped into her again, "Sorry for that again." she apologized, he was not used to such conversation, especially how she left last time, "Uh, it's nothing?" he would reply back, arching a brow and looking just a touch confused, honestly, he hardly felt her bump against him. Not wanting to bring up anything uncomfortable, he wouldn't mention the previous day to the Lady of Luminosity.
Outside seemed to beckon his attention, escaping the noise of the rest of the league guests and champions. He would pass through the magical veil and instantly be hit by the outside temperature. Internally, the entire institute had climate control to ensure a constant 'agreeable' temperature for most of the people there. Individual rooms could have it adjusted to how they wished, though outside had the fresh nature to it. Most of the ones in the garden seemed to be Ionian, feeling more at peace with the proximity to nature, Zyra, along with some buds near her seemed to simply soak up the light. Looked like photosynthesis was pretty relaxing, if not time consuming.
He intended on simply eating and leaving to train as he normally did, though the tides of fate held otherwise for the man.
"Greetings again!" a familiar voice rang out, there stood the 'golden boy' walking up to him, already in his armour, he had only started, seeing how the Demacians just seemed to grow up with silver tongues that spawned from their blue blood or if they were energetic from Magical means was beyond his understanding. Praising any god that looked over the area for him not to be the target of conversation, he would simply continue with his meal. Though, instant damnation brought unto them all as the sound of rustling grass and a 'thud' was noted with the weight of his breastplate alone.
"Ah, Garen, what is it?" he would ask, the morning still making him sound a slight like a frog but it had cleared up for the most part.
"Well, you were pretty quiet yesterday when we first met, though I'd check up on you friend." he stated with his typically energetic and welcoming demeanour.
'Friend?' he did not even know anything past his name and that he was a respectable foe, in theory. How does simply listening in on one conversation make them 'Friends'? It was a preposterous idea!
"I...am not one of many words, as they say." he replied with a tinge of unease, at least that was true, though foregoing the term 'friend' for now, it was perhaps simply used casually. The other man was of different culture so it was bound to come off as something different. Regardless of how much Garen considered him to be a friend, Lux probably did tell him and the others about his origins, so the accommodating nature provided by the other could easily be a ruse. Demacia wanted Noxus out of the picture, what would be easier than targeting a man whom harbours hatred against them? If such was a viable plan, Riven still seemed the same despite her will. Maybe they tried and failed? That would be a question asked later, first, he would have to earn her respect. Then climb the ladder upward and onward through the Ionians and Demacians. Taking a look into some interesting figures from Freljord, Bandle city and Piltover. The..creatures dwelling in the Shadow Isles and Void may be better left the brood further upon their own goals and plans.
Shaking his head to snap himself out of his plans and typical over-thinking, the man would look around to see most of the champions seemingly friendly with each other. Was the air so calm around the people whom could be at war with each other the next day? Then again, not all of them strictly represent a city state and others do just take things day by day. Well, long as he can turn Noxus belly-over prior to any conflict starting, things would be made easier. League life was indeed much stranger than he thought,
"Perhaps, I might see you on the fields of Justice." standing up, Garen probably felt the coldness of the man's shell finally reflect unto him, though Ion did give a quizzical look,
"Though there are no disputes to clear up are there?" his reply received a low chuckle from the other,
"No no, there is not. Fear not. The lands of Valoran are in their stagnant state for the time being. It is just practice matches for Summoners to further their strengths. Plus, you are new here, expect people to start summoning you in about two hours or so." he would reply.
"Though, I have training to perform, are they to constantly interrupt my schedule for their petty games?" the concern was the first emotion shown since the start of the conversation that tainted his nonchalant voice.
"Well, you signed up. You think my prince has matters to attend do but is also subject to summoning when required?" the man arched a brow, it was rhetorical so an understanding nod was the only reply the man had to offer.
Finishing off the rest of the meal, when he stood up, he would take one last look at the garden. Picnic tables scattered over the place but the design that available for the 'prestige' class of people, the champions to use. The plants scattered around the place still in spring bloom with the early day conditions being something along the lines of a warmer Spring day. The smells of the plants, of the trees mixing with each other and once again, reminding him of the peace that Ionia brought him for that short time he was there. 'Why is it my mind constantly brings me back there?' he questioned. he was a soldier, the pungent smell of death should be his purfume, blood his canvas and death to be his critique of the mess of human bodies he makes into a perfect art form. Why is it that he finds comfort in the sights of meadows? A longing for somewhere that he can just relax and let go of everything? The short grass tickling as his ankles, crackling under the weight of his movements. The cool humidity and shade of a meadow, he just wished to let go of everything and just stay there.
Such thoughts were wrong, he had spilt blood. Now he realized why he wanted such places. They were clean of the stain he brings to the land. He could not see the damage done to Ionia when he was there, they had cleaned it up perfectly. He wanted to go to a place where he could just pick himself out of the river of blood he constantly trudged through. His mind wanted him to forget about the dying gasps and screams of the people whom he had murdered for broken ideals and men whom wished to impose their will unto others whom already built their own culture. He was fighting, spilling blood and clambering over the bodies of many to prevent himself from drowning in the ocean of blood he had spilt during his time for now. The thinking left him numb, the realization for his longing for that island he went to previously made him ashamed that he so willingly accepted their hand, despite previously breaking their fingers, not simply biting the hand that helped him.
First, he did need to know about those that could help him with his magical potential side of things. Placing trust in a neutral source would be the least risky, though with each one having their own agenda, even the most valiant of people can be twisted into something else. That would be something of priority. He could use the Demacians for this knowledge or a Summoner as well. There were some mages that did not all sit on high horses and think that they are entirely the best and everyone else was nothing to them, right?
All this time, he had noticed that he was still standing up to leave, it was becoming a habit, getting lost in his thought. Turning around, there would be something connecting fiercely to his jaw. Though the head hardly moving in contrast,
"For last night."
With that voice, it was easy to tell who it was. The numbness was still in effect, it was hardly registered. Though the left eye twitched involuntarily, he simply side-stepped from her and left. That was an awkward public display, though with his training, a punch like that from her, probably infuriated the woman even more. Though she spooked him the previous night, so really, it was unjustified, especially considering she is an assassin that could have easily been sent out to target him. He left his tray, with plates, at a collection point for the Institute to take care of in their own way.
Looking for someone you do not know of in this place was a nightmare, not knowing that the champions and summoners are in different sections, so that each can converse freely, there was a section where there was a massive dinner-hall where those whom wished to, could eat and interact with the summoners, though such a location was beyond his knowledge. Before he knew it, something hit the back of his head with some notable force to it, looking behind to see if it was The Sinister Blade, much to his surprise, it was not. If anything, there was no one in the hall he was in.
'Greetings, Ion. I am summoner Olpien Yurst, I am going to summon you for your first match!'
Just dandy, he was being interrupted from finding someone to help him out, though he would try to see if Olpien could be of any use.
'Well, if you're looking for someone to help you with Magic. Taric and Ryze are two people constantly looking deeper into such a subject. If it is the arcane field, Xerath is one who you'd visit. Though he has quite the... never mind. If you are ready, I shall teleport you to the summoner's platform.' he replied, the voice was somewhat young, gauged to be about twenty five or so years old. He could only hope that he would be paired up with someone with some level of battle tactics and wisdom. Seeing the blue light engulf him, his world went black.
Vision returning to see four others around him, there was a giant Nexus right ahead of him, the air was natural, though the amount of pure magic seeping through the area made the crystal left arm pulse quite strongly. Sensing the presence of another Nexus seemed to augment it and synchronize with it. Though, despite that, he felt weaker.
'Right, this is simple. The people around you are the ones whom you shall be with for this match. It is just a practice round so do not worry about defeat. You will gain experience by killing the doll like creatures called minions, when I tell you to attack them, you attack. You get gold slowly as the game progresses that we use to buy items. We have some stuff to start with, so let us just get to the middle lane and get the starter stuff sorted!' a rather jovial tone accompanied the explanation, the link was strong but not penetrating to go into his memories like the first time he entered the League. Either this fellow didn't want to do that or simply couldn't. Regardless, it was probably for the best. The shop interface opened right in front of him, a selection of two wards, four health potions and two mana potions were selected by Olpien, despite having the items, he did not feel their weight on him or see them at all.
Looking around him, they all greeted each other, "Ah, you're Ion right?" turning to see a woman dressed in some rather regal wear with gold being the primary colour on her, chestnut brown hair with matching eyes and a rather athletic build, despite the size of her shield and sword. "I am Leona, no need for the titles. This is just so you know our names for the time being." she would state, having quite some strength behind her voice. Seemed quite fitting with the image, "I shall be in the bottom lane with Sarah Fortune, commonly known as Miss Fortune though." The woman with the red locks and rather...revealing attire gave him a wink. The figure would indeed entice many if eyes lingered for too long. To his left, a familiar sight came to view, "Oh, Ion. I did not get to see much of you last time we met. How about we see how your combat capabilities are against other champions?" Irelia grinned at him, the humour was taken as a challenge to him though.
"My enemy, shall be ravaged. Fear little about me. I am more interested to see what the Will of the Blade can perform." the reply came with a stout tone to it, he was not used to fighting with women thus having three of them on his team, was unsettling at the very least. "Oh, your name is Ion?" came a strange voice, having to crane his neck down to see who it was, well, a sight of many things in the past had struck him to question what this world was capable. Though a midget mummy was now the benchmark of 'What has this world come to?' Blinking, he was entirely unable to reply to the other, "Let's be friends!" raising his arms into the air, hoping to gain the friendship of another from within the league. The gaze of the man intensified upon the little one,
"I do not use that term so lightly. Though I understand you mean no harm with your words, albeit, I shall keep it merely to acquaintances first." he declared, the little one seemed a touch disappointed that he did not gain a friend, though the fact that he was accepted by the man did seem to bring an awkward smile to it's face. A firm nod, "Alright! Let's do this."
The voice resounded throughout the entire area, following the direction to go, he stood in the brushes next to the Ancient Golem. The grass was tall, though not enough to cover his figure entirely. Despite that, he still turned transparent,
'The reason for that is magic, really. It is to give a tactical advantage to the people whom are in it. Thus if they go into the river, we can see them and let the others know that they may attempt to invade our side of the monster-camps, known as the jungle. You will help Amumu, the little one you saw, with the slaying of wolfs and the Ancient Golems. We shall provide enough damage so that his summoner does not have to use smite. The terms for these are Bush, wolfs, blue buff accordingly. Just to let you know some of the terminology that we use here.'
"Okay, I trust in your ability to guide me through this to victory. Defeat, even in practice, is still shameful."
The reply came with the full Noxian force and weight behind the words. When certain things are engraved into one's mind and blood, they just do not quite seem to let go. Such ideals and values, he was willing to uphold, it is just what to fight for and why, were the reasons he turned against Swain.
After that call, he went to where Irelia and Amumu were. With three magical portals, the wolfs were brought to the world. Instantly growling, he got to work, shooting off the crystals at them, he attacked the small wolfs first as Amumu started to...cry? His concern was noted quickly before he could comment,
'It is one of his abilities. When he cries, it pools around him. Cursed to damage targets of a percentage of their maximum health per second. I suggest you do not comment on that, he has been known to act a touch more rash when in this state.' taking the words into consideration, a silent thanks would be given as he continued to help the little one with the blue buff. As stated, it was done 'smiteless' as Olpien had called it. Going to lane, he was met with an unfamiliar being. Renowned by name yet never seen by most, the serpentine tail trailed behind, sending out what looked like snakes from her hands.
Cassiopeia Du Couteau
"Oh, so you are the one my sssister complained about last night?" the coy voice betraying the monstrous visage presented unto him, "Well, for Noxus, Swain and my sister, I shall be sure to make you writhe." licking her lips in preparation for the much anticipated torment she was to bring. It was honestly hard to gauge. Cass was physically a monster, though her sister was worse as it was not blatantly obvious that she was a terrible, grotesque being with the guise of human flesh over her. He simply looked at her for a moment, blankly and uncaring,
'Ion, are you seriously thinking those images? Calm down, your imagination and brooding should be kept unto yourself!' grunting in reply, he would simply start to kill off the weakened minions.
"I wonder, does death leave a lasting impression?"
A/N: I just wanted to give a quick shout-out to lolmak (not sure who you are on the forums D:) for your dedicated reviews and constant words of encouragement! Alongside with TheModernBard (AerithRayne) for your tips and stuff :D I'm only able to say sorry for not managing to churn this out faster but unable to find any detailed information regarding the 'internals' of the institute, I've decided to let my imagination go loose and toss caution out of the window. So feedback would be pretty awesome and if you think I did miss out on something or can improve, I constantly am trying to see how I can make it better! Even if it's something down to the conversation format or paragraph-spacing, I'm open to anything. Hope you've enjoyed my take on the league champions so far, more to come!