[Lore] The Dawn of the Shadow Isles (with Champ Concept intros)
The Shadow Isles were not always such a dark and desolate place. Evil spirits did not always reign there. Long ago they were known as the Mythic Isles, a peaceful archipelago ruled by the gentle King Midas and his fair Queen Liandry. Though far from a rich kingdom, harvests were plentiful and the peasants were happy. It seemed the sun shone every day.
Liandry gave birth to a beautiful girl, and she and Midas named their daughter Zhonya. Midas was the proudest father, and wanted only the best for his little girl as she grew up. He was not pleased when she befriended a servant’s boy, though he had to admit that the boy, Viktor, was very smart. Zhonya seemed happy enough to explore the castle and the surrounding hills with Viktor, so the King left it alone. Midas continued to lavish Zhonya with so much attention over the years that Liandry began to feel unloved, and eventually became jealous of her own daughter, though Midas still loved his wife very much. Liandry fell into a deep depression, and nothing seemed to make her happy, as much as Midas tried to please her.
One day a jovial old peddler, leaning on a knobbly wooden staff, came to the castle and requested a private audience with the Queen, claiming he had just the thing to cure her misery. Midas was wary but allowed the meeting, hoping this man could help Liandry. The peddler bowed deeply as he entered the throne room where Queen Liandry sat.
“What do you want?” said the Queen tiredly.
The peddler bowed again, and said, “I am but a humble merchant m’Lady, and I’ve come to help you. At the risk of sounding cheesy, I will grant you three wishes, as long as they are within my power.”
Liandry looked over the rickety old man, doubting if he had enough power to hold himself up, he was so skinny. She was skeptical, but decided to humour the man.
“Ok. First I want to be the most beautiful woman in all of Runeterra, that my husband cannot ignore me.”
The old man nodded. Liandry continued, “Second, I want us to be the wealthiest King and Queen ever, that we may be happy.”
The merchant grinned. “I can do that, go on.”
“And third, I want my family to be immortal, that we may rule for eternity.”
A frown darted across the old man’s face, and then he smiled, nodding once again. “I’ll see what I can do.” He bowed deeply and turned to leave.
“Wait!” cried Liandry, “You haven’t done anything!”
The merchant turned to face her. “All in good time, my Lady.” He winked. “All in good time.”
Liandry let out an exasperated sigh, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, the old man was gone.
Several years later, three days before Zhonya’s 18th birthday, the ancient peddler returned to the castle and again requested to see the Queen.
“What is it now?” demanded Midas. “The Queen is not happy today, I doubt she’ll want to talk to you.”
“I come bearing gifts for your family!” answered the old man.
Against his better judgement, Midas said, “Come back in three days, we’re having a grand ball for my daughter’s birthday. You can present your gifts then.”
“Excellent!” the old merchant said gleefully. “I’ll see you soon then!”
The King looked away, and when he turned back, the mysterious peddler had vanished.
Zhonya’s 18th birthday was just as she’d hoped. Midas had invited everyone for the most extravagant ball she could remember. She couldn't care less about the stuffy lords and dignitaries, who were her father’s friends, but all of her own friends were there and she was especially happy to see her father had allowed Viktor to join in the festivities. The King had spared no expense for his daughter’s party. The ballroom was beautifully decorated with her favourite colours, an orchestra played, and jesters and dancers performed for the guests milling about. Zhonya was thrilled. When the time came for guests to present their gifts, Zhonya quickly tired of the growing pile of trinkets, jewelry, and fancy confections. Her face lit up, however, when Viktor knelt before her, offering up a coil of silver-laced leather. She knew Viktor liked to tinker in the royal palace’s machine room, but he had kept this a secret from her. Curious, she asked, “What is it?”
“If I may demonstrate, my Lady?” Viktor asked politely. He stood up and unfurled the loop.
Zhonya saw it was a whip. “Of course, Viktor.” She nodded. “Give the man some room, will you?” she said. A few people stepped back a bit. Viktor pressed a button on the whip’s handle, and it crackled to life, shimmering with a ghostly blue electric glow. Zhonya gasped. People were more willing to give him some space now, and scrambled to get out of the way. He raised the whip above his head, cracking and sparkling. Whirling it in a great arc, he spun the whip several times before flicking his wrist sharply. The whip snapped, issuing a thunderous crack that shook the entire castle. Some guests screamed. Others fainted. One person started clapping enthusiastically.
“Put that down, boy. Someone could get hurt!” Midas gave Viktor a stern look, and Viktor sheepishly turned off the whip. “Yes, sir.” He hung his head. The king looked around to make sure nobody had been injured, and saw the source of the applause. There stood the old peddler with his sack of goods, clapping madly. The ancient man hobbled forward, leaning on his staff.
“That was quite a show, boy!” He exclaimed loudly. “Let’s see if I can’t one-up you.”
Ladies peeked from behind columns, and lords clambered out from beneath the tables, dusting themselves off and trying not to look scared. The old merchant approached the King and his daughter, and smiled broadly at Liandry, sitting quietly on her throne as she tried to process what had just happened.
“I remember you,” she said, “you’re the fool who claimed he could grant me three wishes.”
“Indeed, your majesty,” the peddler grinned, “and I’ve come to deliver on that promise! If I may, I have three gifts to present.” He looked at King Midas, who sighed. “This night can’t get any worse, I suppose. Let’s have it, then.”
“Wonderful!” exclaimed the old man. “Seeing as it’s the Princess’s birthday, let’s start with her gift.” He reached into his bag and rooted around a bit. “Ah, here we are!” As he withdrew his hand from the rumpled old sack, Zhonya, along with most of the people in the room, gasped once more. In his hand was a golden hourglass, filled with a glittering array of precious stones, from rubies and sapphires to emeralds and diamonds.
“From this day forth,” announced the old man, “so that they may rule for eternity as per Queen Liandry’s wish, Midas, King of the Mythic Isles; Liandry, his Queen; and Zhonya, their beautiful daughter, will not fall victim to starvation, disease, or age.” He tapped each lightly on the head with his gnarled wooden staff as he said their names. “I cannot protect you from sword or spell, but this hourglass should do the trick.” He handed the golden hourglass to Zhonya, who took it gingerly. “How does it work?” she asked, admiring the sparkling jewels inside.
“Simply turn it over three times, and you’ll see.” The old man beamed. “Don’t be scared, give it a try!”
Zhonya looked out over the whispering crowd, and couldn’t resist. She tipped the hourglass once, twice, three times. At first she thought nothing had happened, but the guests were suddenly shouting and shrieking as if something horrible had happened.
“…no need for alarm!” The old man was trying feebly to shout over the din of the crowd.
Zhonya looked around, and seeing nothing amiss, screamed “I’m fine!”
A hush fell over the people. “What happened?” she asked.
“You…you turned into a statue, darling.” King Midas was trembling with fear now, aghast at the power he’d invited into his castle. “I want you out!” he shouted at the peddler. The guards started to move toward the merchant.
“Ah, ah, ah!” the old man raised a hand and the guards stopped in their tracks, struggling to move. “I still have two gifts, and I’d hate for them to go to waste.”
“What dark magic is this?” cried Midas.
“All in good time, your highness.” The merchant smiled. He shuffled up to the King, and raised his staff dramatically above his head. Midas tried to pull back, but found that he too couldn’t move. The King was surprised the old man didn’t topple over, but somehow the merchant stayed upright. He brought the staff down swiftly and then tapped Midas lightly on his right hand, then again on his left. “As per Queen Liandry’s second request, you shall now be the richest family in all of Runeterra. Everything you touch, my Lord, will turn to gold. Give it a whirl, won’t you?”
The King felt a chill run through his body, and found he could move again. “This is preposterous!” he said loudly.
Getting ready to kick the dodgy old man square in the chest, he planted his hands on the arms of his throne. The crowd erupted into shouts and exclamations, but Midas hadn’t moved yet. He looked down, and then leaped out of his seat. What had once been an ornately carved wooden chair with velvet cushions was now a solid gold throne. He dashed toward a guard, still frozen in place, intending to take up his sword and behead the devious old merchant. The guard begged him to stop, but Midas ignored the man’s pleas in his hurry. As he wrenched the sword from the guard’s grip, his finger brushed the man’s hand. Midas recoiled as veins of gold shot up the guard’s arm and branched across his chest. Within seconds, the guard was a golden statue.
“What have you done?” The King cried, horrified. He whirled to face the ancient peddler, the now solid-gold sword forgotten at his side.
“I am only doing as I was asked, sir,” the old man replied, grinning. “Queen Liandry shared her wishes with me, and I am simply attempting to please her. On that note, my final gift is for you, my Lady.” He turned and shuffled to the Queen’s throne, reaching once more into the canvas sack.
“Don’t touch her!” shouted King Midas, but he was again helpless, unable to move.
“Oh, don’t worry,” the peddler cackled as he pulled something out of the bag, “it’s just a mask.” He handed a simple white mask to Queen Liandry, who took it apprehensively.
“What’s this supposed to do, hide my ugly face?” She turned the mask over in her hands, running her fingers over the smooth surface. The old man cleared his throat and Liandry looked up.
“Not exactly, your majesty. Your first wish was to be the most beautiful woman in all of Runeterra, so that the King could not ignore you, correct?”
“This is ridiculous!” the King sputtered. “I love you, Liandry. When have I ever ignored you?”
“Silence!” commanded Liandry, surprising everyone with the animosity in her voice.
“But–” the King started.
Liandry shot an icy glare at the King, who immediately shut his mouth.
“So,” the old peddler continued, “this mask simply enhances your natural beauty, a bit like make-up, or a flattering gown. Go ahead – try it on.”
Liandry, now a gaunt, skinny woman affected heavily by years of depression, figured there could be no harm in trying on a mask. The worst that could happen would be a bunch of Midas’s friends laughing at the woman in the silly white mask. She brought the mask up and peered through the eyes.
“Don’t!” shouted the King desperately.
Liandry pressed the mask to her face, in spite of her husband’s pleas. Her heart clenched, and she was gripped with a sudden sensation of falling, though the floor was solid beneath her feet. Liandry realized the magnitude of her mistake as a hollow feeling began to grow inside her. She tried to rip the mask off, but it was too late; it had taken hold of her.
The old man clapped gleefully as Liandry collapsed from the pain in her chest. She curled into a ball on the floor, fighting to breathe as her heart was sucked out by the mask’s powerful magic. Then, as suddenly as it had started, her agony ended. Liandry gasped for breath, struggling to regain her composure. As she stood up, still breathing heavily, the room went dead quiet. First the merchant, then King Midas, and eventually the whole room, fell to their knees, bowing in reverance. Liandry had transformed into a hauntingly beautiful version of herself, her once dull red hair now radiant, flowing over her shoulders and framing an impossibly attractive face. Liandry laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the otherwise silent room.
Zhonya knew she had to stop this ancient evil, and seized her opportunity while the old merchant’s head was bowed. She leaped up and grabbed the whip from Viktor’s shaking hands, shouting at the guards to move while they could. Three guards dove onto the old man, who crumpled under their weight, crying out as his arm snapped like a twig.
“Hold him down!” commanded Zhonya. With surprising precision, she brought the glowing whip down on the ancient man’s head with a thunderous snap, and he collapsed. From his mouth, a black fog spewed into the room, quickly condensing into an ominous form.
“Behold!” boomed a sinister voice as the shadowy figure took shape. “I am Rylai, the Darkin Scepter, and this day shall be known to all as the Dawn of the Shadow Isles!”
With that, the shadowy shape vanished, and the room erupted into chaos. Ladies, dancers and jesters alike trampled each other in their push for the doors. A few desperate lords threw chairs to break windows, and dove headlong into the bushes below. King Midas tried to calm his people down, but anyone he touched turned to gold, creating even greater panic.
Soon the room was empty, but for the royal family. Liandry was seething with rage. “Look what you’ve done, you foolish child!”
“I was–” Zhonya started, but Liandry cut her off.
“If you hadn’t been born, none of this would have happened. Get out, and never come back here! I forbid you to set foot on this island!”
Zhonya burst into tears. Whirling around, she grabbed the jewel-filled hourglass and stormed out of the castle, shouting as she went, “You’ll pay for what you’ve done, mother! You brought this upon us!”
King Midas stared after his daughter as she left, then turned to his wife with a look of disgust on his face. He knelt down and bowed his head, then stood up, looking Liandry in the eyes. “Long live the Queen.”
The Ruined King turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, slamming the massive ballroom doors, now solid gold, behind him with a resounding boom, leaving the Tormented Queen utterly alone.
FIN
I will be posting the new Champion Concepts introduced in this story in the next few days. They include:
Midas, the Ruined King (obviously a gold-based melee champ)
Liandry, the Tormented Queen (a powerful mage-type champ)
Zhonya, the Banished Heir (a mage-assassin champ with a frickin' awesome electric whip)
Rylai, the Darkin Scepter (a devious health-based Darkin Mage to complement Aatrox, the Darkin Blade)
- If you want a sneak peak, he's actually just going to be a rework of my previous champion Mollock
Please let me know what you thought of my first attempt at actual Lore. I thought it would be fun to come up with some sort of explanation for a few of the in-game items, and a bit of a back-story for the Shadow Isles. It just so happened that I was able to include an origin story for Viktor as well, while trying to figure out what Zhonya's weapon/kit would be. I know it's WAY longer than the typical Lore, but once I started writing it, it sort of got away from me. I hope you enjoyed reading it!
Questions and feedback are welcome as always. :D
