Rise of Legends: War in Ionia

Okay so I took some liberty with the Warwick + Singed lore. It’s not 100% accurate but how can it be? Ever since the lore got changed a while back things have kind of been inconsistent and confusing. So this is my interpretation of that lore with liberties taken to tell the best story I can.

Chapter 1

Deep within the alchemical labs of Zaun...

“Mix mix swirl mix.” Singed mumbled to himself as he stirred a foul smelling alchemical concoction. He moved from vial to vial of different liquids in various stages of preparation. Adjust the flame here, add an ingredient there, distill, filter, concentrate. Hour after hour, day after day, his life was in the lab and the smell of poisonous fumes was ambrosia to him. For each poisen he brews he tests its potency on himself. So much exposure has made him nearly immune to their effects, earning him his title of “The Mad Chemist”

It was unclear how much time had passed when his mentor announced his return. Singed greeted him without turning away or slowing down his work.

“Master Warwick, back from the Shadow Isles I see. I started to worry about you.” Singed ended with a slow guttural chuckle. Warwick, though a highly accomplished alchemist in his own regard, lacked the raw talent of his pupil and couldn’t help but look down at him with a hint of disdain.

“Do you have so little faith in your master?” the body snatcher said while making sure to keep his distance from the open toxins. It wouldn’t do to damage his handsome figure, lest it hamper his ability to lure the young and naive onto his table. “Perhaps I should have you replaced with a more faithful apprentice.”

“Oh? But then who would create your precious lycanthropy elixir?” Signed asked with a sinister smile, “Bodies, bodies, so many bodies. Success churned from failure after failure. I doubt you’d be able to create a perfect elixir with such limited ingredients.”

“You’re fortunate I abide such insolence. If not for your natural talents I’d already have you under my scalpel.” Behind his handsome figure lies a savage beast, one that masks its hunger for blood behind “experiments.” When he isn’t lucky enough to procure a healthy traveller he steal away the poor and downtrodden in the dead of night. He injects his victims with a toxin that paralyzes the muscles without dulling their sense of pain. First he cuts them open while they cry and scream. Then he injects them and watches as the poison flows through their veins and destroys their organs. Or sometimes he’ll cut into their organs, flay their skin, or skewer their flesh and watch as his potions struggle to knit his victims back together. The advancement of alchemy is a road paved by blood and suffering. This is the Warwick that the people of Zaun fear. But Singed knows him better than most. Deep down he’s a coward that only knows how to prey on the weak. Singed has nothing to fear from this man. In fact he could kill him at a whim if he so desired.

Warwick produced a small medallion from his pockets and tossed it onto Singed’s lab table. “Here’s your damn silver.”

Signed examined the medallion as he picked it up. It was fashioned into the shape of a skull inscribed with runes humming with mysterious Shadow Isles magic. “Oh my. What, I wonder, did you go through to obtain this little artifact.”

“Nevermind that,” Warwick answered, “Can you use it or not?”

Singed examined the medallion more closely. It was fairly tarnished, clearly old, and likely used in many dark rituals. The desired properties have been drained from the metal but there was likely enough raw silver to suffice. “Of course. It won’t take more than an hour to create the base elixir.”

“Excellent. That makes just one last ingredient to gather: the heart of a celestial being. While traveling I learned of such a being possibly inhabiting the land of Ionia to the east. Getting there, however, will be troublesome. My sources say Ionians can sense darkness in people. I suspect they won’t willingly let us pass freely through their lands… what are you laughing about?”

Singed had had been quietly laughing to himself since his master mentioned Ionia. “You don’t know, do you? I was paid a visit by a Noxian emmisary the other day. He came seeking the services of the great Warwick for their next war. Their target? Ionia.”

Warwick burst into laughter. “It must be fate then! War with Ionia? Oh how many fine subjects I’ll procure. And once I have my hands on that heart my research will advance faster than ever before!”

“Of course, my master,” Singed said with his sinister smile, “Your name will become synonymous with fear.”

Chapter 2 coming soon