AN: Okay, I am sorry. Never again. In my excitement/haste/anxiety I left out a small ending to this chapter. You shouldn't need to re-read it or anything. Forgive my beginners mistake and I will never do it again... hopefully. Chapter 2 is well on its way out.
P.S. Actually though, don't expect these.
A bright, cloud speckled blue sky matched the glorious ocean surrounding a large island. Colossal mountains rose towards the center ringed in brilliant white powerful sun floated high in the sky casting penetrating rays of light into the bright green rolling hills of Ionia. Patches of sunlight dappled the beautiful countryside. Stands of trees pocket marked the land with dark green smudges. Farmland etched out square patterns into the tapestry of earth. Clusters of hovels were all that indicated a community. The only large city to be seen was at the base of the mountain itself with large marble walls that elegantly complemented the green background of the land. Behind the walls numerous structures rose above with square roofs with paneling that curved downwards half a story and then jutted outwards. The only great river of Ionia started from the peaks of the great mountain range and flowed across the land effectively dividing the island and great city in two. The rivers deep blue color betrayed its vast depths and despite that the only bridge across the vast river was in the metropolis at the base of the mountain at the rivers thinnest, but swiftest point.
A streak of smoke and blackened ground was the only blemish and it was growing. At the head of the blackened trail rolled fearsome war machines. The black behemoths had spikes wherever the could possibly be place. Massive turrets sat atop dirty treads. They belched smoke and nauseous gases that followed them wherever they went. A single turret gunner could be seen atop each vehicle. They were equipped with a radio and goggles. The frequently barked orders. Behind the ferocious monsters a large army marched. A single women lead the front column. A massive sword clutched impressively in one hand. The blade glowed a sickly green that brightened around runes etched in the greatsword. Her hair was a unnatural white color that seemed out of place on her young face. Piercing auburn eyes complemented her tanned skin. Her armor was a dark green color that was almost black. Large spikes protruded from her armor neatly spaced along the edges.
Behind her the mighty Noxian army marched steadily deeper into the Ionian countryside. The soldiers were all outfitted the same. The army of noxus was uniform and well disciplined allowing only the officers to wield their weapon of choice. Each of the footmen held a square shield and a hand and a half sword that curved slightly. The only unique feature on the soldiers was the crest on their shields. The crest was used for identification because it represented ones house. Also in the ranks of the army were archers and mages. The archers were equipped with a simple longbow and a dagger. Each man sported black leather armor typically adorned with feathers and other trophies. The mages had a more lenient uniform. They had a choice of weaponry from daggers to staves. Most chose dark robes that covered their bodies and veiled their faces in shadow. The final group in the army were the artillery soldiers. These men were blackened with gunpowder and carried canisters of the explosive material. Those unfortunate enough to not be carrying the dangerous material were forced to push the heavy cannonry and the supply wagons.
As Riven marched she found herself in a dilemma. The war machines led by Singed were quickly advancing at a pace her army could not hope to match and at the same time an Ionian force had been spotted by her scouts and she feared that unless she turned her forces to meet them their supply lines would be severed. A massive raven swooped down and landed gracefully on the ground. In stared up at riven and squaked noisily. It then held out its ankle revealing a cannister. Riven shrugged thinking of Swain and his uncanny ability to control the birds. Riven stooped down and removed the canister gently and opened it. A small raveled letter was found inside.
Riven
My informants have told me of a plan to disconnect our supply lines. The Ionian forces are let by Master Lito's daughter. Route them back to their pathetic capital and chase them all the way there.
-Swain
It quickly solved her dilemma and Riven found herself agreeing with the master tactician. The supply lines were the lifeblood of any army. Riven quickly reorganized her soldiers and prepared to march into the Ionian forces. The disciplined army was quick to assume its new well drilled positions. The Ionians had given the Noxian army a wide berth and were skillfully preventing themselves from being silhouetted against the horizon. Riven found herself chasing a ghost army that evade her at every turn. As soon as it appeared they wereFinally as the sun lowered in the sky Riven had cornered the Ionians.
A large valley separated the two masses of soldiers and equipment, flanked by the steady river. The setting sun cast a bloody light across the rolling hills and valleys of the Ionian countryside foreshadowing the battle to come. The warriors of Ionia lined the ridge with an assortment of weapons and armor. The Ionians were tired and disheveled. Many of the soldiers looked like simple farmers who had been called to arms. Most sported rusty weapons and armor that hadn't been used in eons. The peaceful Ionians philosophy so easily failed against the militaristic Noxians. The Ionians ranged in age from old farmers with greying hair to young men barely worthy of the title. The rag tag band stood defiantly against the far superior force of Noxians that now stood across the valley threateningly. The sun floated just over the heads of the Ionians casting their shadows across the grassland. A brief stand off ensued, the tension in the air could almost be felt like electricity. The silence quickly dissolved as the thundering of Noxian artillery soared overhead. The first shells struck the field. Most missed, punching holes into the countryside throwing up dirt and rocks. The dust created by the projectiles hung, a brown smudge, in the air. After a brief pause the an Ionian stepped forward.
Her strong green eyes complemented her determined face. She had long white hair that matched Rivens unnatural color and also matched the strange woman's armor. The woman was dressed in colorful red and white armor that gleamed in the fading sunlight. Her chest was barely armored and revealed her shoulders and some cleavage. Her legs were thickly covered in overlapping plates of armor while her arms had a loose silk fabric draped around them. Her weapon was a great sword that was dwarfed only by Rivens colossal weapon. She hoisted her weapon and charged down the hill roaring a battle cry that was echoed by her rag tag army. The Ionians roared down the slope being drowned out as another barrage of artillery was fired into their lines. Blood joined the dirt in sickly clouds that floated in the air capturing the dying red sunlight.
Riven was now in the thick of the fray. With great agility she twirled through the air in a terrifying dance of blood and gore. Without hesitation she swept her blade through ranks of Ionians causing the wind itself to become a brutal weapon. She continuously flipped through the air punching deep into the Ionian forces. A cavalry horn drew her attention from her graceful dance and she turned to her left where the sound had emitted. Ionian horseman with lances were thundering into her armies flank. They quickly decimated the weak left wing. Raising her sword she roared, the green light in her sword brightening almost blindingly.
"To me!" She bellowed and several of her nearby footmen roared their battle cries following their inspirational leader into the dangerous cavalry charge. Riven slashed and pummeled her way through the cavalry slaughtering horse and man alike. Her blade easily cleaved through armor and flesh, ripping through mens legs and cutting through their horse in single swings.
Panting Riven took in her surroundings. The Ionian army was in shambles. Several pockets of resistance still fought valiantly often to the last man standing. The main Ionian force had been forced up the valley and now was beginning a full retreat. Through the crowd Riven could make out their young leader, Irelia. Her hair was long and white, the same unnatural color as riven. She wore a bright red and white metal tunic. She was wielding a greatsword in two hands, but it was much smaller in size compared to Rivens. Her eyes shone with determination and courage. She was looking back at the bloody cratered battle ground that would inevitably scar her homeland for decades. Irelia was bellowing orders and pointing this way and that, occasionally barking at fleeing soldiers. She seemed to be urging her forces, however, her efforts seemed wasted on the troops for many were dropping their weapons and fleeing. Finally Irelia turned and retreated with her army.
As Riven approached the crest of the ridgeline Irelia and her army had stood silhouetted upon the smoke from many chimneys wafted and tumbled lazily through the clear skies. Riven drew her sword. Fools, she thought, so confident in their defense that they were still preparing their last meal instead of running to dine another night. As she watched several men exited numerous houses with various farm tools and formed a loose mob in between her and their cluster of shacks. A noble, but suicidal attempt. She raised her sword and ordered her army to the battle. The slaughter. Her sword pulsated dimly with ancient energy. She dashed forward in the midst of her vanguard a wide space cleared around her leaving ample space for her gargantuan sword. As she crashed into the farmers unorganized front line she considered the foolish stubbornness that every Ionian possessed and briefly she wondered how the men and women of Noxus would defend themselves. She decided they would not be nearly as valiant.
Tirelessly she crashed through the untrained Ionian farmers and soon they were in a complete route. As her blade sliced through their limbs her sword propelled limbs and debris through the air tearing through clothing. In a mighty swing of her blade Riven forced the air itself to cut forward in a well honed technique that cut men in two leaving their insides hanging out. Blood spattered the ground and surrounding houses creating a fine mist creating an awful smell of gore. Slaughter was her least favorite task of the entire war and lately they were doing more and more of it.