You've been asking me about the Infection since you were little, of the champions who led us here and founded this city. You know I don't like to discuss that, though I'm sure you've heard of the quarantines, the fires, the battles that took place before civilization crumbled. I know you've been taught the basics in school, but you want to hear a first hand account. Very well, but I'll make it brief. I dislike dwelling on the past.
After the initial chaos came to an end, as the fires died and the incessant moaning of the undead slowly faded into the white noise of familiarity, those of us who remained looked to rebuild. To take back the world the virus had taken from us, to go back to the normal lives and everyday mundane which we all secretly knew we would never see again.
As we huddled in the warehouse which would, for some time, become our home, our roles in this new world, if not our plan of action, soon became clear.
*Garen Crownguard
was naturally fit to be our leader. Stalwart and courageous, a proponent of justice. When the barricades broke, when squabbles broke out among our band of survivors, it was Garen who settled disputes. It was Garen, ultimately, who stood as the pillar of our band.
*
*At his right hand stood Jayce of Piltover
. If Garen was our staunch commander, Jayce was his second in command. His hammer was hope, his charm and wit kept us sane. When tragedy befell us, and it often did, he was the first to remind us of the future for which we fought. He was the first to defend our hopes for tomorrow.
*
They were the pillars of our ragtag community, the men who we could all trust to lead us to safety. Behind them, though, lurking in the shadows, directing our little band with careful suggestions and subtle manipulations was Swain, Grand General of Noxus
. We would have starved, or died in our first attempt to forage, were it not for his careful suggestions - at the time, entirely believed to be of our own design. When a group of survivors was beating at our door begging for assistance, we may have let them in were it not for his hidden council. Let them in, along with the horde at their backs and the infected wounds they hid beneath their clothing. I cannot say I'm proud of all the things we did under his guidance, but I firmly believe that I would not be telling you this today were it not for him.
Lastly, there was Lucian
. Every band of survivors needs someone like him. It was almost as if he'd faced this threat before. As if he'd battled the undead his whole life. I can only imagine what event in his past led to his single minded devotion, what horrors he had seen that kept him up at night, but I'm glad that he faced them. As horrible as it is, we needed that ruthlessness to combat the hordes as much as we needed Swain's amoral scheming and Garen's unwavering sense of justice. We needed someone who could purify the land.
*And so it was that we spent three years in the ruins of that city, in that dockside warehouse barricaded with any scrap we could find. Three long years that we tried to thin the undead's ranks, only to see them swell with each passing day. Three years that we lost and mourned and lost again. Then, on that final day, as the hordes overwhelmed the last of our defenses dawn broke.
We had a visitor.
She came with fire and vengeance, her righteous fury brought reckoning to our foes. Her arrival was nothing short of divine intervention. You can see her now, on the horizon, patrolling the perimeter of our city. You've met her, every child born in New Hope has. Kayle, the Judicator.
*