(Gangplank - PoV)

So that's what the bloody bastards meant!

I laugh, slamming my bottle on the arm of my chair, rum splashing out and splattering over the upholstery.

Certainly explains why they decided to go on a tear across my port celebrating.

I am kicked back in my favorite chair (good wood with fine red upholstery), watching the League announcement at the Noxian brothers' suggestion. The bastard duo shouted it at me during our little tussle while they were on one of their bar crawls.

By Fizz's mysterious sphincter, what could cause Demacia's golden boy to jump ship like that? The damn Noxian's were vague as the seven hells.

I note the old cunt Swain's shriveled visage on screen, looking down on everyone like usual, the prick.

Ah. I'd bet me damned ship it is another of that bastard's overly complex schemes. He's going to dole the information out like the most miserly bitch of a nun, really get his money's worth.

Bah.

I take a deep swig.

I'd say the lad should've come here, we'd certainly show him a good time, but he's a Demacian. They wouldn't know a good time if it slapped them in the face and bit them in the ass. His sister is welcome any time though, damn. The fucking glowy angel wing shit she has going on doesn't imply good things though...so maybe not. The port really doesn't need a pissed-off mage going all divine retribution on it.

Hah, a girl that just screams the angel come again, defecting to Noxus with the Might of Demacia. The stuck-up idiots are going to lose their shit. Perhaps the sticks will come out of their asses as well but I doubt it.

I am so going to make fun of them for it next League match. I wonder how pissed off I can get Vayne? That crazy cunt has quite the temper, always good for a laugh.

I reach for the bowl beside me and growl when my hand comes back empty. Those blasted brothers!

The fucking Noxian duo couldn't just hit the usual no names, no, they had to throw a gods damned goat through the window of the bar I was in and interrupt my poker game! And while I was winning too! I don't particularly want to know where they got the goat or what they were doing with it given what I have heard of the younger brother's, ah, proclivities.

I shudder.

No, good rum and better wenches for me.

I take another drink, and idly look around for my wenches. Where did they wander off too?

But no big deal, it's Bilgewater, shit like that happens all the time here. It's practically tradition. No, what got my goat, no pun intended, was during the friendly tussle afterward, a drunken Darius decided to play lumberjack and went and started cutting down my orange trees!

My oranges! No one fucks with my oranges!

I may have told me boys to let loose the cannons at that point and, well. Bilgewater might be under a wee bit of reconstruction right now.

Again, it's Bilgewater. These things happen. Hardly the first time I've opened fire on the place, for one reason or another. Like some punk getting too uppity, my drink going sour, or just being too drunk and getting a bit confused.

But anyway, my damned trees don't just magically pop back up so easily. I sent a demand for their replacement to ol' Swain, we'll see how that shakes out. If he don't pay up then he's going to be seeing a lot more of his favorite boat, and not in the way he wants I expect.

I tap the arm of my chair, looking at the events on screen.

I think he will though. Something like this? He's making the big plays now. He won't want little ol' me disrupting those fancy schemes of his while he moves against the uptight cunts in Demacia. Aye, let the big players wail on each other all they want, and us independent contractors will have free reign of the seas.

I empty my bottle, and throw it against the wall, smiling as the pieces rain on the floor.

Yes, war is great for business.

(Ryze - PoV)

Sitting in the dirty, crowded bar, I watch the events playing out on the screen in disappointment.

Of course. How foolish of me.

I tune out the raucous crowd. Fortunately, they ignore the quiet, cloaked figure in their midst.

My quest searching for the World Runes and other such dangerous magics tends to leave me traveling, but hearing of a major announcement imminent, I elected to remain in town a couple of days. It wouldn't do to lose track of the world's current events completely in my journey. To risk losing it to some new cataclysm while trying to prevent old threats.

I sigh.

I had hoped, with the advent of the League, that the nations of the world had at last found a new, less destructive means to vent their grievances with each other. It was a large factor in my joining. That and their agreement to never use any World Runes they may find. I even trusted them to stick to it, given that they revealed having discovered one already, and unlike every other group or individual I have ever heard of, they sensibly locked it away instead of using it for power.

But seeing this? I fear my idealistic hope for the future will not come to pass. No, the nations of the world were merely biding their time.

They may fight some battles in the League but in the end, their conflict will only ever be settled with the blood of their citizens, as ever.

I shake my head at the cheers.

Cheering, at the imminent bloodshed.

Really, what could possibly have been worth this Garen? What could drive you to this? You always claimed to wish to protect the innocent, but now the fields will run with their blood from your selfishness.

This is why I must complete my task. Why I must prevent man from finding the World Runes.

Even when given other options we ever seem to seek war with one another. I sometimes wonder, are the runes truly corruptive? Do they affect the minds of those near them, or is mankind just that weak that we cannot resist their allure all on our own? I don't think I want to know the answer.

I continue to watch the events play out, and some commentary by the various officials, but eventually make my way out, stepping past the chattering throngs.

There is some hope, at least. Garen is a champion. Noxus could rely on the extra power in the League to increase their influence that way, instead of resorting to bloodshed.

But I know the truth. I have seen too much of mankind's nature these long centuries to lie to myself.

War is coming. After this brief bout of relative peace, the world will know its horror once more. I just have to hope the clash of armies doesn't unearth anything truly dangerous. Again.

Man so easily forgets how fragile he is in the grand scheme of things. Our arrogance knows no bounds...

I eye the road ahead of me, before turning off the path and stepping into the forest. Onward...ever onward.