A Tale of Tragedy: The Gank Foreseen is the Most Cruel of All
**Prologue: **
Summoner 5: "Summoner 1, my friend, If at all possible I wish to take to the jungle! I shall exploit the 
while I still can with 
!"
Summoner 1: <In a mysterious sequence of events, without any word or warning of any kind, this summoner chooses the Lunar Zealot as his final ban, perhaps not being able to read the pleas of Summoner 5, and chooses to take the Immortal Highlander, 
, to the jungle instead>
Summoner 5: "Some may doubt your generosity and reading comprehension at this obvious slight, Summoner 1, but not I! For I am a student of all Rift disciplines, and am willing to crush my foes elsewhere and anywhere!"
Our Tale Begins....
Denied the Blessed of the Moon, Summoner 5 has chosen the noble 
as his Champion. Beneath his obfuscatingly idiotic dialogue, his keen Troll mind frantically plans, and considers.
: "Time to Troll!"
"Curse my over-aggression! If i had not overly pursued that fiendish monster 
like a fool, I would be winning this lane easily! Yet even now, I hold the clear advantage. Once I acquire my King's Blade, I shall rain destruction upon them all!"
The mighty foes are evenly matched, until a shocking event occurs-
"You have my SPEAR, 'King'!"
"And my SPIKES!"
"They're ruining my good mood!"
"Hah, what fools! My Pillar of Ice, a mere fragment of Freljord's ancient power, is enough to keep them at bay! God speed, She Were-Cat!"
Meanwhile, as could be expected, has spent every possible moment silently farming. A lesser troll may have called to the mysterious Ionian for aide, but not their king- he alone knows that every moment the Wuju Master spends slaying monsters is another step towards victory.
However, while he may have escaped the Feral Feline's cowardly assault, has been left with little vitality, and no 
to return to his lane.
<In the very corner of his vision, spots an ill-placed trap in the Three-Cornered foilage behind him, while the Ravenous Ravager doubles his efforts in slaughtering the hapless minions in front of him. The signs point to one thing- a dive!>
"I'm Troll judge, Troll jury, and Execute...Troll!"
"A dire situation indeed! My comrades are otherwise occupied, shall I call to them? Perhaps with aid, this fight can be turned!"
<But aide was not to come- the as yet Silent Swordsman at this moment was bringing his talents to the southern lane, and oblivious to 's impending peril were soundly smashing any resistance their foes had to offer>
<Having seen so much death and sacrifice already in his lifetime, knows what he must do. As the decisive moment draws near, the King of the Freljord steels himself.>
"I'm Troll king. KING!!"
"My friends, my comrades, it is best you do not come to my aide. Every second I can buy, every minute I can keep the wretched leopard motionless, is a moment you can spend securing our victory. Do your worst, villains! I shall certainly do mine!"
<Having come in plain sight, no longer caring if the Troll know of her presence, the Jungle Specter launches vicious verbal barbs, joined by her loathsome partner >
"You were born a runt, troll, and will now die as one! And like any runt, the rest of your litter has left you for dead!"
"But do not fear, little troll- for it is I who will have the pleasure of devouring you, piece by piece!"
"Plead for mercy, brute. If you make me laugh, your death may come more easily."
"Digesting you will be far more unpleasant for Me than for You, snowflake of the north."
<Stinging as their taunts may be, 's heart is of sterner stuff. And yet, a sadness does fall over the Majestic Warlord- not one from the insults from without, but from the reflections within.>
"This is Troll-Town!"
"When I fall in battle, how shall I be remembered? A sickly messiah who, through great suffering and sacrifice, brought salvation and hope to his tribe? A hero, who united his people through cleverness of mind and might of arms? A wise leader, who brought kind out of the starving, rocky wastes to prosperous, fertile lands? Or will I be known as a vicious, uncouth brute, who stole the throne through treachery and an alliance with a witch?
Many years from now, will tales of my deeds give hope, inspiration, and courage to children, and their children's children, or will my name become that of a boogeyman who abducts young ones when they fail to wash themselves, or stay outside past sunset?
Bah, what thoughts are these for a warrior, a king! Yes, I was a warrior before I was a King, and a survivor before I was a warrior. I shall not die easily, but should I die it will be for the benefit of my comrades and my people- no one need sing a dirge for me, or write tragic tales. My deeds will stand upon their own foundation."
<As if an unheard bell had rung as a signal, and rush forward to assault the weakened . Having made his own peace, the Troll King faces them.>
<The battle is mighty and fierce, but expectedly brief. Despite using every trick up his sleeve and every weapon in his arsenal, the agile and the powerful overwhelm under his turret, and though the Arboreal Amazon receives one... two... even three!... blows from said tower, both enemies escape to fight again.>
X_X
<Suddenly, before exiting his home fortress, stands perfectly still for many seconds. What could this mean?! Before long, we receive our answer, as he speaks the only sentence he would speak for the entire game:>
: "We should rename you the 'King of Throws', you idiot."
*Based on a True Story
: "For the first of these bloody tales of comrades, heroism, and blood, follow the paths below."
