"Hmmm…" Swain the Grand General of Noxus hummed, deeply in thought as he paced back and forth in the safety of his luxurious office. Gathered around the crippled old devil, the Noxian champions also murmured lowly. The excited eyes of the crafty tactician's elite company decidedly pinned on the simple, yet invaluable parchment that had been recently set on Swain's imported, mahogany coffee table.
"What about.. apple?" Says the wrinkled and scarred war veteran after a while. "Apple is a short and simple word. Perhaps it isn't a word with a special meaning or one that instills fear in the hearts of whoever hears it, but it will certainly serve us well as the first word in our new Noxian alphabet book." Swain continues.
The rest of the gathered champions paused in their musings to consider the wizened old warlock's words, save for Sion that's always impatient. The hulking juggernaut deftly dips a pen made of bone in a wide bottle of ink and writes the first sentence of the new primer.
'A is for AAAAArgh, the word foes scream in pain!' Proudly writes the Undead Juggernaut. The other Noxians present either facepalm or snort and cackle faintly in amusement.
"That isn't even a word, you big undead oaf!" Tersely sighs Vladimir as he glares daggers at the hulking monstrosity that is currently seating on the couch by the blood mage's side.
"Settle down! Settle down, I say, children!" Swain attempts to calm down the complaints and accusations of his greatest, most undisciplined chess pieces. "What is done is done now. We will simply have to do better in the next passage."
With a startling speed that surprises his peers, Vladimir steals the bone pen from the giant hand of the Undead Juggernaut and hastily scribbles something on the clean parchment. The other Noxians grumble as they lean down to inspect Vladimir's handiwork.
'B is for Blood.' Spell the small cursive letters penned by the smug Crimson Reaper. 'The greatest thing in all of Valoran after bloodstains, bloodshed and of course bleeding, and frequent bloodbaths.'
The small company of frustrated Noxian champions are too busy cursing at the moronic Hemomancer's stupidity when an ecstatic Draven steals the writing utensil this time and quickly scribbles down his glorious thoughts in the primer.
"C is for Draaaaven!" Draven exclaims, the arrogant executioner's tongue peeking out of his mouth in deep concentration. "Much like D, E and F, and the rest of the letters in the Draaaaven alphabet!"
Darius instantly wrestles the pen off his brother's hands and scratches a verse on the parchment with a tired sigh. "G is for Grave, where my idiotic sibling is going to send me one of these days…"
The Glorious Executioner pouts in his seat. Swain uses a ballpoint pen to share his views with his fellow Noxians.
"H is for Heritage, the spoils and great deeds of the past being carried on to the descendants of the ambitious and visionary leaders."
"I is for Intelligence. The most important and necessary gift in order to succeed in scheming and deceiving." Quips Emilia LeBlanc as she suddenly appears next to the Grand General in a plume of dark smoke.
"J is for the Jokers." Happily continues LeBlanc's evilly grinning clone as the second dark witch notes another verse in the peculiar Noxian alphabet book. "Those simpleminded, feeble fools that are not long for this world."
Katarina abruptly Shunpos between the two dark-haired women. The Sinister Blade doesn't dillydally for a moment, hastily dipping the tip of one of her signature throwing daggers in the jar with the black ink. "K is for Katarina, and if anyone ever tells you otherwise I will slit their damn throats in their sleep."
"Legacy," The Grand General raises his voice in order to be heard over the loud laughter of his fellow Noxian champions. "Tis the decorated brother of History in the path of becoming a legend."
Everyone whoever ignores him completely, and Cassiopeia grins maliciously at her little sister. The cunning turned lamia delicately dips a sharp pointy fingernail in the murky contents of the ink jar. Cassiopeia's words of wisdom bless the yellowish, smudged parchment.
"L is for Ludicrous, like Katarina's pathetic attempts to be taken seriously during most war meetings."
"M is for Motherfuck-" Katarina heatedly retorts, her ink-coated dagger stabbing the poor parchment viciously as if the stunning redhead is currently visualizing stabbing Cassiopeia's favorite Voldemort poster with each violent twist of her knife. Talon thankfully stops his adopted sibling's latest rampage and crosses over her swear word, replacing it with the miniature drawing of a bloody blade. It is the only word the once orphan assassin had ever needed in his life.
"I am starting to think that gathering all of you here to help me with the selection of the primer's words was a mistake." States a frowning Swain disappointedly. Meanwhile Beatrice, Swain's trusty avian friend stealthily hops off the clever tactician's shoulder. The wicked red-eyed raven takes advantage of Swain lecturing the Noxian champions like misbehaving children to painstakingly drag the bone pen against the rough surface of the smudged yellow parchment.
'N is for Nest.' Beatrice inputs.
'O also looks like a nest from above.'
'P is for pecking the people that the Master points at.'
'Q is stupid like Quinn, that doesn't let Valor play with me in the gardens.'
Beatrice thinks long and hard for a moment, trying to find an appropriate word for the letter 'R'. Finally, after a second or two, the annoyed raven shrugs as Beatrice grabs the bone pen with her beak again and drags it against the now abused parchment.
'R is for "Rip their eyes out!" That must be suitable. Master really likes it when I make our enemies cry.'
'S, Quinn is stupid, like I said. Stupid, stupid, stupid.'
"And that's why you should be taking this seriously. This alphabet book will help us bring more glory to our great nation." Swain's voice drawls exasperatedly. Beatrice hastily writes another sentence and then uses her beak to crudely roll the parchment on the coffee table until only the last sentence can be seen if anyone happens to inspect it. Not even a second later, Darius grabs the incomplete alphabet book from the bird and tosses it towards the Grand General. Out of old habit and due to the latent instincts of his other more primal form resurfacing for a moment, Swain initially catches the thrown parchment in his mouth. The Grand General clears his throat awkwardly as he takes the parchment in his hands and looks at the last line curiously. Inspecting the text with a pair of creased eyebrows and confused, narrowed eyes.
"T is for Talon, like Master's deadly appendages in his handsome transformed form?" The Grand General raises an eyebrow as he eyes the visibly nervous bird that's minding its own business, whistling softly while playing poker with Emilia and her clone. "Why, thank you, my dear Beatrice. I also find your own talons most stunning and wickedly sharp." Swain then checks the time at his steampunk Hex-clock, a birthday present from robo Anivia if you need to know.
"Let's finish the alphabet book at another time my friends. We do have League matches to attend and targets to murder."
The cunning old devil motions towards the entrance of the room as he places the yellowish parchment in the safe that he keeps Beatrice's expensive bird snacks at, cleverly concealed under an oil painting of playful cats and bathing yordles. The Noxian champions groan in disappointment, but know better than to disobey their wise leader. Emilia and her clone are sad because Beatrice won their car keys in the last game of poker.
"Why did you even raise the stakes for a couple of shiny metal bits and a half-eaten bird snack!" The clone asks the real LeBlanc incredulously as the empty office's door closes.
"That's my bird!" Happily grins Swain as the smart raven hands the old general Emilia's sports car keys.
When every Noxian cutthroat and schemer finally vacates the Grand General's office, the air near a withered potted plant shimmers unnaturally, before Lux suddenly appears. The brave Demacian spy seemingly materializing out of nowhere.
"So that's what Noxians do in their free time…" Lux stares at the closed office's door incredulously, the blonde maiden's expression shaken, uncertain."
"I know, right?" Akali's mirthful voice slips from the shadows under Swain's wooden desk. "I would have thought that sudden meetings would entrail assassination plots and utterly sinister plans! I didn't sign up for this job so I could spy on a band of barbaric fools fighting over corny poem passages and alphabet letters in a wrinkled parchment."
"At least now we know that the Noxians aren't interested in invading our respective city-states." Offers Camille as the Piltovian woman swiftly rappels from the ceiling with the grace of a ballet dancer.
"So, is anyone up for a foursome?" Asks Teemo as he abruptly appears, standing naked on top of Swain's precious desk. When all of the women present just shrug the Swift Scout smiles.