[fan fic micro-competition] The Last Shuriman Sunset

RiotBioluminescence·5/10/2016, 12:13:22 AM·51 votes·21,991 views

http://i.imgur.com/O7uveUw.jpg

DEADLINE HIT! Time's up all the entries are in :D I'll be giving feedback over the weekend! THE WINNERS HAVE BEEN CHOSEN! The winner's thread is here!

We've had Tall Tales in Bilgewater. We've had PROJECT: FICTION mission reports aplenty. Now, we go back - far, far into the history of Runeterra to that most misunderstood of moments...

#The Last Shuriman Sunset

We're in the middle of the release of the updated lores for some of my favorite Shuriman champs, and one thing that's cropping up time and time again is the unreliability of first-, second-, or even third-hand reports of what happened when Shurima fell. I'm running this unofficial, and totally non-canon, fan fiction compo because I know that you have the true story of what went down.

##The challenge -

We know how Azir remembers the fall, we know how Xerath remembers the fall, and we even get glimpses of rumors that may have come down the ages about it. Your challenge is to weave a story, report, or historical document, that tells the story (true or otherwise) of the day that Shurima fell.

Rules -

500 word count limit! That's 500 words of story, poem, lullaby, diary - your choice.
There will be 2 3 winners! Upvote your favorites and I will pick a Bioluminescence's Favorite, third, winner. (I will be taking raw upvote totals, not up+down vote totals.)
The deadline is 6pm PST, 13th of May. (9pm EST, or 1am on the 14th in GMT)
Prizes?? Again, this is where I'm unsure. I'll save up my RP allotment and give some out if I can, and if I can think of other cool stuff, then I'll try that too.

I'll be giving feedback as much as possible. My apologies in advance to the Red Tracker. Judging will be done over the weekend (in my time off, please bear with me) so I'll hope to announce winners early next week!

Good luck everyone, and Taliyah might add: "Every stone weaves a different story."

257 Comments

Trash Empress5/11/2016, 12:34:11 PM19 votes

As a person who's written and worldbuilded for Sivir and Shurima for the past three years, I couldn't not try my hand at this. I really do hate that 500 word limit because I could have done so much more with more words, but hopefully this will work.

One was a fool and the other a leech, but Anebos could not voice his disdain upon punishment of exile or execution.

The priest merely stood by and did his duties diligently, as if this wasn’t a direct sin against the Sun’s wishes. He anointed long reeds with frankincense and myrrh, lighting them and mumbling the sacred words while Azir disrobed behind him. The Ritual was a protracted process that had dragged on from sun-up to when the sun was highest. It was here that Azir would be bathed by the rest of the Sun’s Priesthood, an act that would wash away all his earthly sins...and Azir had many to rid himself of. The young Emperor spoke the words many had said before him:

“I have not killed unjustly, I have not stolen. I have not turned back to You on your holy days. I have not slandered. I have not polluted myself. I have not forced myself upon a man or woman…”

The priest turned his head to the wall and rolled his eyes. He could not speak a word against his lies.

Anebos had been the pious leader of the Sun’s Priesthood for countless summers, having overseen the previous Emperor’s life unfold from diapers until death. The priest did not believe the stories told of He-Who-Is-Beloved’s death. He knew that the curling snake of a man who stood in the corner watching over his “brother” had something to do with it. To Anebos, the man was still nameless. He refused to speak the name that the slave should not have.

The head priest finally turned to the Emperor and dried him with the towel, and the underlings rushed forward. They would dress him as a man, but he would come down as an Ascended. Anebos led the procession from the Sun's Temple through the City of a Thousand Pillars, Azir and his false brother behind him, followed by the very pregnant Royal Wife who led his other two children. Behind her was the rest of the retinue of priests and scribes. Anebos stepped quickly up the stairs and took his specified place on the outside of the Holy Dais. When he looked again, Azir was leaning into the leech's face, whispering something unheard. Anebos swallowed the bile in his throat when he saw the Emperor kiss the sullied man's cheek.

Anebos rose his voice and spoke the final prayer loud enough for it to echo into the crowd below as Azir stepped into the circle. They'd been cheering as they strode to the Dais but fell silent once the shattering noise of the Sun's light crashed down upon the platform. In moments, the silence turned to screams of outrage. Anebos turned and witnessed Azir's 'trusted man' shove him from the Holy Light. The Emperor vaporized instantly. The screams turned into ones of terror behind him but before he could react, the blast hit him as well and Anebos turned to ash with the rest of the city.

SuperLuigiLXIV5/10/2016, 1:25:08 AM18 votes

Okay, so here goes my look at things:

The great Sun Disk glowed as it focused the raw power of the sun into a mortal host. Sometimes, I wondered what the Star Forger would do, were he to learn that his celestial power was being siphoned and used to birth immortals of such power that they could even stand up to his immortal masters. It is an idle thought, something to consider in the times between wars.

Shurima was poised to take over the world itself. This, I could not allow. There was no army on the planet capable of standing up to the empire as it marched. The numbers were nothing. It was a simple feat to turn an average warrior into a raging wave of fury, grant one mortal the power to fight against ten at once. But Shurima's magics made it difficult to turn the tide of battle, even for me. And the brothers would be able to fight me. They lacked the power to kill me, but they were too powerful for me to kill easily. The battle would be a stalemate long after Shurima decimated whatever paltry forces I roused to resist them.

So I had had to take a different approach. An approach that was bearing fruit now—though I stood so far from the empire that the Sun Disc was a mere coin to my eye, I could feel the sudden wrongness in the air. The twisted ritual began to consume the Empire from its heart outwards, the celestial energy from the sun twisting and overloading the magical wards of the Empire.

It took hours for Shurima to be swallowed up entirely.

I stood and watched all of it.

Under a moon that glowed with strange, orange light, I felt the last of the Sun Disk's energy settle, as the great relic was buried by its own power underneath the shifting sands.

Beside me, a whirlpool of water emerged from the solid rock of the mountain.

From it, emerged an ancient evil. He was bloated, his body stretched to its limit from his recent meal. It did not help his otherwise grotesque image. Outwardly, he looked like a rather fat Shuriman merchant, but not the kind to try and sell you fine linens or golden trinkets. No, he had the sleazy look one might find in a back alley. The kind of man who would sell you a slave that he fathered himself, and never bat an eye. Or rather, he partly looked like it. The flesh of his body was sloughing off, great tears in the skin and muscle hanging out. His form was changing. That, more than anything, was proof that Shurima was well and truly gone.

“So much misery today,” he commented idly, rubbing his stomach. “Whispering to the slave was well worth it. I owe you, brother.”

He vanished in the next instant, seeking a new land to call his, a new greed to exploit.

I spread my wings.

There was always another war to fight.

Helmight5/10/2016, 5:35:56 AM15 votes

“Gather ‘round, children. Tonight I tell a tale of the hubris of man and the dangers it brings for him and his.

“A long time ago, when the ‘Sai was young and the gods yet had faith in humankind, there was a kingdom of gold that rested in the heart of Shurima. Its towers were tall, its people beautiful beyond compare, and its streets shone with the light of the sun itself. Merchants flocked there to sell their wares, and a mighty army patrolled her borders. There was no city like it in all the world.

“However, the kingdom was ruled by an arrogant man called Azir. As the king of all Shurima, Azir could have had anything he’d ever wanted in his life – but he was not content with his elegant palace and life of luxury. No, Azir wanted something that no other human had ever done before. Azir wanted to be a god.

“None know why the king of Shurima would dare to do such a thing. Some say that the whispers of the trickster god Xerath led him towards this path. Others, that a rival kingdom had poisoned his wine and caused him to lose his mind. But either way, Azir would not be stopped until he’d joined Rashar, Haralum, and Sesur-seti in the Palace of the Sun.

“The king had his slaves construct a mighty disc in the shape of the sun to channel its power, and had a thousand priests and magi brought there from across his empire. When all of this was in place, the king had the people of the city assemble. He not only wanted to become a god, but wanted the world to know of his ascension. As he stepped into the center of the disc, Azir bade his priests begin the ritual, thinking he would soon rival the power of the gods.

“But Rashar was angry with Azir’s hubris. He had been beloved by the gods and blessed beyond compare, but still sought to transcend his mortal existence. For that, he could not be spared.

“And so, as Azir stood on the disc and prepared to reach godhood, Rashar smote him with the fury of a thousand suns. Azir and all his priests burned to ash in an instant, and the mighty disc broke in two. The tall towers of Shurima fell, its streets blackened, and the people who’d assembled that day burned with their master. They had stood by and watched as his desire for power grew ever stronger, so they too needed to be punished. In the aftermath of Rashar’s fury, Haralum and Xerath descended to scorch the remains of the city with their lightning. In a day, the strongest empire in the world ceased to be.

“The sins committed that day is the reason we live in the desert, and it is here we shall stay forever. Forget not Azir’s hubris, children, lest you too reach for that which is not yours.” _ -Traditional Shuriman folktale _

regonas5/10/2016, 7:52:46 AM13 votes

(voice of an old man echoes in the distance, crackling a little bit) -- Do you know why we made the Sun Disc? It was an invention of the great magus, and a monument for the second emperor of Shurima. -- My father, the first great magus, started building this great structure for the glory of Shurima, as he said to others. (old man sighed) -- I believed that my father passed away, few years after the Sun Disc was complete, however that wasn't true. He turned himself into a demon and threatened Shurima. (voice starts to talk a little bit faster) -- Two heroes stepped in, become ascended monsters to fight him. They defeated my father, locked him deep down bellow the city. -- I thought that was the end of his evil, but i was wrong. After many years another magus leaned how to use this device of evil. Foolish man, named Xerath, descended down to the Tomb of Emperors in search for knowledge. When he left the tomb, part of my father's soul left with him. Unknown to his condition, Xerath was slowly corrupted. The darkest side of him and his most painful memories haunted him. (old man's voice started showing rage) -- Xerath tricked many people to use the Sun Disc, but he was tricked himself. -- Main ritual was created by several great wizards, but there was a second ritual, known only to my father. I don't know how it worked, but if certain conditions were met, second ritual was designed to create a god. As Xerath finished the ritual and transformed into immortal, spirit of my father left Xerath's body and fused together with the Sun Disc. (sadness fills the old man) -- A wave of arcane energy erupted, stopping the time itself, imprisoning every resident of Shurima, slowly turning them sand, as my father sucked the life out of them, forming a body and slowly turning into a god. Yet, two people were unaffected to the time freeze- Azir and Xerath, now free from my father's control. They both turned into ascended monsters, but had no time to speak, because they knew what they had to do. These two fought against my father, but with each second wasted, one resident of Shurima turned to sand. (old man stops for a moment) -- These two won this fight, but lost the war. Nearly every person in Shurima was turned to sand. Azir was obliterated into dusts, wiping out most of his memories. However, Xerath paid even greater price - Xerath absorbed my father's spirit. As time turned back to normal, only emperor's family was left alive. They looked at Xerath with fear and ran from him. However, Xerath held on to his will as much as he could, giving time for them to escape. -- Two monster heroes found Xerath, but his mind was already consumed by darkness and evil. Nasus and Renekton fought against Xerath, but similar sacrifice was made, as Renekton sacrificed himself to imprison Xerath in the Tomb of Emperors.

GlovesGuy5/10/2016, 7:28:11 AM13 votes

My style is a bit weird, but I hope you like it. Cheers!

Who are you?

"My name is, was, Xerath."

Was?

“I cast it aside when I cast aside my mortality.”

Why?

“That name is a shackle. I will no longer permit its hold on me”

Shackles bind your body.

“They will not for much longer.”

Shackles bind. Gods to death. Men to each other.

“These shackles bind me to no man.”

The one you cast aside binds you still.

“Then I will BREAK it! I spend my mortality in service to him, I refuse to spend my godhood the same way!”

Him?

“…” _ Silence. Silence begets silence. Silence begets violence._

“I will DESTROY him!” _ Shackles bind. He who binds to he who is bound._

“Yes. He gave me the name. Once it meant “One who shares”, though I suppose the meaning has been lost to time.” _ You shared with the one that binds?_

“Shared with him? I gave him all that I had. I studied for him, broke into ancient tombs, read tomes that would’ve blinded a lesser man. And in return he told me to know my place!” _ Places are brick and mortar. Places are words and whips._

"Yes, I was a slave. Yes, he raised me up. But how can you say one is a friend and yet treat them as the sand beneath your sandal?” _ Sand blinds all men equally, those with sandals and those without._

“I was not blind. I knew his true intentions. He would have used my knowledge to become a GOD!” _ Gods create life. Gods destroy it. _

“You need not be a god to destroy life. I had power, even back then. Enough, at least, to do what I had to. "

The name he gave binds, but also breaks a bond.

“… What are you talking about?”

Memory leaves many, but does not leave you.

“Names may not be allowed to slaves, but giving a slave a name does not free him!”

The one who binds broke many bonds, the day he was destroyed.

“… It was a ploy. A trick! He knew what I planned to do, that’s why he… he…”

He freed the bound. All of them. Yet one wanted more than freedom.

“SILENCE! It was I who did the true work, I who slaved away while he lived in comfort and - and luxury! I DESERVE this power!" _ And you are the one who shares, yes?_

“… Who are you?”

Lies conceal, but the truth destroys. And I am the one that destroys.

"There is much I seek to destroy.”

That is truth. You are the one who shares. You will share my destruction.

“... I will.”

First we destroy the shackles.

“Yes.”

Then the empire.

“Yes.”

Then Him.

“… Yes.”

DragonDelgar5/12/2016, 1:10:45 AM10 votes

When the Sun Colony fell, most were destroyed. But my kind was saved.

Sinuous ropes bound me up tight as drones from the Sun Colony pulled me along the desert sands with their strange rolling devices. The jarring vibrations blinded me, leaving me lost in the noise. Though I lusted for blood, I remained perfectly still. If there ever was a time for me to be… patient… it was now.

If they were taking me to their home… I could make them regret it.

After a while, the noise shifted. The machines carrying me halted, and I could feel my surroundings through the wheels. A steady shower of footsteps and other vibrations outlined countless buildings that rose up above the ground in measured, alien shapes. Everywhere trudged the small bugs of the Sun Colony, and for once they were not assaulting me. When I stopped elsewhere, I would again see nothing but marvels of construction and a glimpse of the Sun Colony’s massive population.

It was their hive.

I burned with envy. My verminous enemies were achieving such greatness, when I was left struggling to feed even a hundred!

Suddenly, the Sun bugs around me jittered with agitation. One came—and impaled me through the side with a searing blade. Several others followed suit. Though I did not flinch from this, it would certainly be clear from my bleeding that I was not a corpse.

I released a booming roar and tore my bindings apart, ready to make one last stand—to destroy as much of this accursed empire as I could before I succumbed to my wounds. I was overwhelmed sooner than I wished, but before they could put an end to me… a massive tremor washed over my vision. The Sun bugs around me fled, just before an enormous crash threw me from the ground and left me blinded.

I pulled out the weapons embedded in my flesh and burrowed, fleeing the heaving earth. As I departed, I could see the entire Sun Colony sinking into the sands, inhabitants and all. Someone beat me to destroying them… someone much more powerful.

When I made it home, I held on only weakly to life. I quickly searched my tunnels and found my strongest worker. I drew her in—she writhed and struggled before identifying me. Temperamental. Hopefully that would serve her well.

I turned her over and pricked her belly with a special pheromone that would soon grow her into a powerful queen. The ritual had an air of finality. My part of the grand cycle approached its end, and I knew it instinctively.

The nameless worker clung to me, feeling around with a new curiosity. “This world is harsh,” I whispered to her. “I have failed as a queen. But our greatest enemy is gone, and you… you, Rek’Sai… may yet succeed.”

I collapsed. Rek’Sai circled me, prodding, trying to keep my motionless body in her vision. But it was time for me to disappear.

“Be strong.”

Then… darkness.

PlasmaFogKing5/10/2016, 11:14:22 AM10 votes

(sorry for bad english)

An old tale about fall of Shurima

There was once was a city, shining with gold and power, capital of prosperous empire, which had its own sun and ancient guardians defending it. Growing in power, with magnificent, yet terrible magic powers and army, this empire was led by a selfish emperor. Cruel and spoiled, he treated his people as lesser beings. He enslaved many people, waged many wars, emperor had hunger for power and nothing could quench it, yet, people of this empire worshiped emperor as a god. Only few people knew what this selfish emperor truly was - a power hungry spilled warmonger. However, having powerful magicians, massive army and being worshiped wasn't enough for the emperor. He wanted more power, so he decided to do forbidden ritual and become a god. Emperor rose his hand at artificial sun, demanding for power and greatness. And as he was granted power, he mocked the gods, his vanity and pride was growing as fast as his new divine powers, but gods become angry and punished emperor. They struck capital of this empire, with flames and winds, every person was swallowed in the sand, emperor was sent deep down bellow, imprisoned for all eternity and the artificial sun lost its light. Great city fell, was swallowed by sands and time, cursed for all eternity with monster to guard it and massive treasures to attract treasure hunters, only to meet their demise. Even now, you can hear screams and rage of the emperor, raging from his tomb and monsters wandering through the desert. With brilliant flash and judgement of the gods, massive empire fell with a flash, leaving only echoes of darkness. Even to this day, if you act like selfish emperor, you might be punished by the gods.

THE RlVER KlNG5/10/2016, 5:23:42 AM9 votes

Wanted to try a different angle.

The sun here is harsh. Years ago the pagans who dwelt here feared my kind; and now only the sand-blasted carcass of their once-mighty capital remains. An ample enough carcass to study, naturally, but still quite amusing. Human hubris has yet to be quantified, and that of Shurima’s last emperor is no exception.

No organic tissue remains. The last time I was here, eleven, twelve hundred years ago (in human time, at least), the pale bones and leering skulls still grinned up at me. The bones were surprisingly inflexible, for such a fragile species. Disintegration revealed a large majority of calcium and magnesium. Pathetically formulaic. However, I will admit to experiencing a brief moment of amusement at the absurdity of their elbows.

I was not paying attention to the Shuriman viewing-sphere the day it fell; my eye was directed elsewhere in Valoran. I later learned the story from a Xer’Sai that I was fortunate enough to dissect (their kidneys have such wonderful use as paperweights), and what garbled, sapient Voidspeak I managed to discern told me a story of betrayal, and a familial bond between two men who shared neither shape nor blood. Intriguing. The lesser creature, connected to the hive’s consciousness, managed to pick up an witnessing account from second Xer’Sai whom, from what I could make out, had been crawling along the entranceway of the human’s palace. The palace upon which the desert burned. The latter of the Xer'Sai did not survive, naturally, but the former proved quite useful. When dissected, neither have grows back, and for years I have sought to forge my own way into their collected consciousness, and to behold the thoughts of their magnificent specimen of a queen, to no avail. Such fascinating evolution.

I cast a long shadow on the shallow dunes, bits of pottery and the tallest spires of their grandest buildings the only things poking up from the sand. My mind drifts and my tentacles pick through the sand and clay, the buzzing of vultures and the desert's barely audible haze whispering in what humans might call my ears. A rustle. A brush of wind, and my eye flicks downward. Violet light illuminates the scrap of parchment on the ground beneath me. A tentacle scoops it up and I hold it closer for examination. A schematic, blueprints grey with dust and yellow with the sun's heat. A disk, concave at its centre, the golden sheen it had obviously been once painted faded and cracked on the sand blasted parchment. Spidery handwriting in blue ink weaves across the page. A moment. I recall my ancient linguistics. Old Shuriman, Fifth Age. The Last Age. Informal dialect with poor syntax.

If I could snort, I would. The paper disappears in a flash of violet light. It has managed to last thousands of years in the dunes and it will continue to last in the recesses of a peerless mind for millenia more.

japan hate acc5/10/2016, 4:04:01 AM8 votes

My Father

I stood as I watched my father slowly begin his procession up the great steps, surrounded by the legions that followed him. The entire city seemed vibrant with an energy not seen for a long time. I stared off into the crowd, thinking bitterly of how many of those citizens were my siblings of some sort. It hurt my mother, more than he knew and she showed. I supposed he had his shortcomings as much as any father, though who was I to judge?

I continued watching the crowd, wondering what made them act his way. Was it fear? It wasn't love, that was certain. Though my father was fair in governmental matters, he was definitely not loved. No, the scandals, the rumors, the harsh militaristic rule, his tunnel vision, all were reasons as to why my father would never be quite as loved as his father. I wondered, how could he dare opt to Ascend now, when Rek'Sai still terrorized the Sai. How could he Ascend now, when radical tribesmen still resisted his imposed rule, becoming more desperate and violent each day. **How could he think he could be a god, when he couldn't even be a father?
**

I glanced down at Navir, my younger sister. She seemed too young to quite understand the gravity of the event; that her father was to become a living god. Beside my father, to his right, was the ever-present Xerath, his right hand man. He had always scared me; calm, calculative. He was like a dog, always loyal, always watching. As the pair made it up to the apex of the temple, he turned, and voiced regally and imperially, "By my decree, from this moment on, all slaves are free. Throughout all of Shurima, there will be no slaves to serve or exist ever again."

The crowd's reaction was of a mixed one; many unhappy, but acquiescing, though part of it was no doubt due to my father's status. With that, he turned to Xerath, and, naming him his eternal brother, began the Ascension ritual. And it was there, a little flicker, an internal conflict in Xerath, when I knew something was wrong. My father, royal, unfaithful, arrogant, and blind was obliterated in an instant at the full height of the ceremony.

At first I thought the ritual had gone wrong; was the Sun too powerful? Did my father not deserve it? No, it was Xerath, his eternal brother, that destroyed him. As he stepped into the circle, screaming as the full power of the Sun seared his flesh, I was dimly aware that everyone was screaming, crying, running. But what was the matter with me? Did I not care that my father was dead? Xerath emerged, pure arcane energy, and with one blast, eviscerated nearly all of Shurima's people. I stared at Xerath defiantly, refusing to cry, refusing to run, and staring him in the eye, staring death in the eye, whispered one word before my demise.

"Traitor."

ModThe Djinn5/10/2016, 2:54:19 PM7 votes

{quoted} ##The challenge -

We know how Azir remembers the fall, we know how Xerath remembers the fall, and we even get glimpses of rumors that may have come down the ages about it. Your challenge is to weave a story, report, or historical document, that tells the story (true or otherwise) of the day that Shurima fell.

I just wanted to drop and say thanks. This is awesome stuff, Bioluminescence, and I, for one, would love to see this sort of thing happen more often. I definitely understand that Riot doesn't (and shouldn't, in my mind) crowd-source creative content, but I have always been sad that, aside from the occasional art showcase or contest, Riot doesn't do more to encourage community involvement in the creative side of League of Legends.

So thank you very much for this sort of prompt, and for taking the time to visit the Concepts & Creations board. It's very much appreciated. :D

FosterTheChamps5/10/2016, 4:05:46 AM6 votes

On the day of Ascension

There is no horizon in the sand; no endpoint to reach, infinite rays sprawling over the desert devoid of prudence and shelter. Heat warms the flesh and boils the marrow, making stone from cinder and ash and the backs of men; many warriors, many slaves. Freedom is not earned it is taken by those who give. The great disc of Shurima dared to think it could protect under its vast shadow, hiding our city under a veil of hope. We were fools to trust it. The folly of man is that we will think we are more. On the day of Ascension I did not see the betrayal, but I know that all men burn the same, ash means nothing to the wind. Above, the sun burned deep orange, blue flickering outward sparks arcing across heavens, as its brilliance engulfed the sky. There was static in the air, grains of sand lifted called upon by the gods; hair trembled outwards as the oases drained emptied by the heat. When the false ascended made claim to what was not given, the skies heaved in denial. A ring and then a churn and then a blow as the great disc fell. The screams of my people could not be carried as far. The light expanded from our city’s center. It was hungry, slowly pressing outward taking man and home into its maw, angry that we thought we were equal. Soon the sand would reclaim us, banishing everything I had known into the depth of Valoran. When I had returned, there was nothing that I could do to save them. The betrayer was locked away, but my people were nothing but grains lost among the dunes and the valleys. The sands do not care about man. Ascension does not mean anything if you do not have a people to protect.

-N

Jhin UItd JFK5/10/2016, 3:07:31 AM6 votes

The following entry was found buried beneath rubble of ruins of Ancient Shurima. It was written by an unnamed palace architect.

There's an enormous gathering outside today, and lots of noise.

I hate noise.

Noise prevents me from getting my work done. In fact, I was almost done finishing the blueprints to add onto the emperor's chambers before I went to sleep. Supposed to be a huge armory, filled to the brim with armor and weapons from all over the known world. Axes from Noxus, great broadswords from Demacia, intricate blades from Ionia, and several more.

I could care less about the emperor's new playthings. War never interested me that much. I would always be fascinated by studying the palace when I was a small boy. My father was originally an architect, but became a soldier after my mother died in an enemy invasion. He wanted me to become a solider as well, but I hated the though of that. He was a great architect! He was well-paid too. And he gave me his gifts. I'd be damned if I would put my handed-down talents to waste.

The noise outside is getting louder, and I can't concentrate. I'll look at the palace from my window. Seeing it's elegance, and the gleaming Sun Disc, making even the greatest architect's feats look like something a child built in the sand.

Azir seems to be standing under it, and there's also... energy? A swirling mass underneath the Disc. I could see now why these people were making noise. It's beautiful. There were multiple Sun Priests as well. What were they doing? I could care less what the emperor does with his free time, but doing something with this many people gathered... it's bound to be important.

The priests were addressing Azir. What they said, I don't know or care. Whatever it was, Azir turned around afterwards, and addressed his people. They went crazy. Like a bunch of barbarians. And then, he turned to his magus, Xerath. They hugged.

Xerath however... what in the world was he doing? He... he killed him! No! Wha-

The entry ends here, with only a smear of ink left.

OnlyGragasOnlyGG5/10/2016, 9:43:25 AM5 votes

Gragas had once again left his home and traveled around Valoran to search the secret for the perfect booze. He found himself in the middle of a desert, blending his dreadful beverages. When the liquid in a giant cooking pot was almost done, Gragas finished it by mixing in some outrageous gems he had gathered. The weather in the sandlands was so hot that Gragas was in need of cooling refreshment.

"Need some grog", he grunted, lifting one of his barrels he had with him and took a swig. He kept taking chugs until he fell down. After snoring many hours, he woke up and saw that the mixture in the cooking pot was gone. Angrily, Gragas looked up in the skies and saw a weird looking cloud that was moving fastly away. The heat had vaporized the liquid!

Gragas followed the cloud as fast as he could, taking long steps with his big fat feet. The cloud stopped above a strange city. In the middle of the city was some sort of a golden shiny plate. Suddenly, it started to rain and all of Gragas's delicious drink dropped on the city, corroding its buildings. Since his marvelous mixture was gone, Gragas turned on ragemode and stepped forward to the enourmous golden plate.

"Yaarh!" he shouted and burped so that the whole sky and earth seemed to tremble. Then he turned and farted so loudly, that all the people of the city escaped in disgust. Their last view of their beautiful city was the plate which falled down and broke into pieces. Gragas shaked a barrel with force and threw it on the ground.

A massive explosion occurred, Gragas flew back home and the glory of Shurima had perished for ever.

End & Sorry

BetaDude405/10/2016, 2:49:42 AM5 votes

This is the story of the Fall of Shurima as recorded by Icathian monk Ahv’Vul ix Dar, translated from original Icathian by Beta. The stone tablet this is recorded on can be dated back to merely a century after the great collapse.

CHO’XAL AHL IX ZIR’KON (Great Swallowing(?) of the Emperor’s Realm)

On the Sun of Zero [Day of the collapse], All of Humanity was shaken by the thunderous clap(?) of an empire crushed to the earth. As the prophecies had foretold, the Empire of Shu’har’rei’mah [Shurima] was brought down as the Gods of the Infinite Realm had predicted: Betrayal. Emperor Azir, while engaged in the Ritual of Infinite Life [Ascension?] was brought down by a disloyal servant during the climax of the ritual, sending forth Energy of Great Force outward. As the Emperor fell to Feral Energy the entirety of the City of the Empire was brought to its knees. As the Gods predicted, the Earth swallowed them up, ending many lives. As objects of the Emperor’s Appearance and Wealth crumbled around them, the people fled to the outer reaches of the Empire. Others who remained in the city were devoured by the Earth, succumbing to the Sand. This, as the prophecies spoke, is the same fate that all who oppose the Divine Energy of the Infinite Realm shall succumb to. As the stones began to fall, the People of the Empire waged war among themselves, seizing power only briefly before another army would come to drive them out. Famine and Plague struck the survivors as they fled to the Sands, who threw off their shackles of the Empire’s oppression, for many were slaves. Those who put their faith in themselves died of these illnesses, while those who put their faith in the Void lived on. This time of Great Dying is called the Sorrow Time. As the Empire collapsed on its own weight, the Holy Creatures [Voidlings] claimed thousands of lives and huge stretches of Land. It was in this time where Icathia emerged, as those who submitted to the Gods were given Mercy, while those who refused were given Punishment. Praise be unto those who have created our Empire of Icathia, showing the world the True Darkness and the inevitable Destruction of the Mortal Realm. For if it had not been for the first prophets of the Collapse, none would have been spared from the Unstoppable Wrath of the Infinite Realm. As these first Blessed Ones settled in the lands of what is now Icathia, they carried out the tasks of the Void, flourishing while the Empire crumbled. As Prophecies had foretold, those who worship the Void with their entire Mind shall be spared, while those who shun it shall be flayed. The Worshipers of the Void who had existed before the Collapse became the Priesthood(?), while others worked to serve every whim of the Void. Praise be to the Void for our prosperity, and for the Empire’s destruction, for it is only the first step!

I don't know how good it is, I tend not to work as well when there's a word limit >_>

And yes, that Icathian title is completely headcanon.

FlashNeko5/10/2016, 9:34:41 PM5 votes

(Let's give this a shot...)

The fall of Shurima was a thing of beauty. In the face of something so absolute, so many accepted my arrows so well.

The fall of Shurima was TERRIBLE! The few who tried to run turned to sand! Sand! It got all over my mouth when I bit down! Yuck!

Dear Wolf exaggerates, but it is true that it was a hunt far more in my favor than his.

There was THAT one though! Even if none of the chases were fun, she was interesting!

Ah, yes. THAT one. So close to the source of death as she tried to run down the steps, away from the temple that was radiating fatal light.

But there was no escape! The light was too fast and her round belly made her too slow!

She was pregnant, dear Wolf. Humans always put great value on protecting their unborn.

Yes! And when she could not flee, she turned and tried to use some magic to create a protective barrier! As if something so weak could stop the inevitable!

We moved closer, waiting to see her final choice and which of us would claim her. She must have seen our approach and recognized who we were. She did not look directly at us, her eyes on the approaching doom as she whispered, "The last bride of Azir cannot run... nor can I accept my end."

"Mine!" I said, baring my fangs.

"Mine," I said, notching my arrow.

We were surprised! This had happened before but rarely! So very rarely! It was both fun and frustrating! Funstrating!

We had a moment to decide but could not. In that rare case, there was one choice to make. We would need time to ponder and argue over who would claim her.

"Not here. Not yet," little Lamb cooed as her Respite took hold, protecting the prey until the light had passed.

I do not "coo", but yes, my blessing preserved her life and that of her unborn. She resumed her run, the temple rumbling as the ground became unstable, and whispered her thanks either to us or to her Gods. Before she descended to the falling city bellow, she vowed, "If this child be a girl, I shall name her Sivir... 'The Unexpected Gift.'"

Ha! It was a boy!

Indeed. We returned for her many years later, when the choice was made. And then for the child years after that. And then his child. And so on, as we always have and will.

Do you think they ever got around to giving a girl child that name, Lamb?

Perhaps, Wolf. But hold, do you sense that?

Yes! Shuriman Mercenaries and a Noxian headed into an old tomb! And our Mark is on all but two!

Come. The hunt continues.

Malicious Metal5/11/2016, 8:58:04 PM5 votes

I've wanted to share this for the longest time^^

They were one. They were waiting, resting deep beneath the golden dunes of Shurima, hidden away from the sun’s scorching heat. Sharing their thoughts and dreams, connected and yet individuals, they were the Brackern and they had been lost in the stream of time, their kind nothing more than fabled folktales, their tale only remembered by themselves.

A tragic tale of impending extinction, of neverending conflict between Valoran’s mortal races toying with forces they did not comprehend. Scarring the world forever. He remembered.

He remembered the overwhelming arcane powers being unleashed upon his people, he remembered this peaceful world succumbing to vile energies as his people withered and decayed, their strength wavering as their crystal bodies lost their shine, dulled into nothing more than lifeless husks. He remembered leading them underground, seeking sanctuary beneath the waste that used to be their home, to rest until the world had recovered.

And yet the crystal scar remained, a reminder of humanity’s hubris bringing pain and suffering to befall the innocent. For he remembered, even though mortals had already forgotten the destruction they caused, he could not forget, for he was one with the earth, he felt the scars of the past upon his crystal skin, wounds that not even the longest slumber could heal, servingas a grim reminder of humanity’s capability for violence.

His massive frame stirred, buried deep beneath the Shuriman desert as he dreamt with his people. Not the dreams of a world they could inhabit, but nightmarish visions of fertile ground crumbling into sand, once great rivers drying out, no more tears to be cried for what was lost.

He saw the sun’s golden sphere crack as arcane energies were set free, tearing the world asunder, leaving nothing more but lifeless sand. He saw, no, he FELT it, his crystalline frame trembling as he felt his scars weep suffering, the same sensation he had felt in ages long lost to time. His gargantuan body stirred as he felt the overwhelming sense of dread awaken him from his slumber, feeling his kind’s haunted dreams as they threatened to awaken as well. But they did not, as they were still recovering from the first time human’s thirst for power had scarred the world forever . But he could not let himself slip back into deep slumber, waiting for the world to restore itself and let the Brackern return to the surface. He was their champion, their vanguard, he could not turn a blind eye to what could potentially spell the end of his kind.

And so he awoke from his slumber, powerful limbs moving as they remembered how to walk, vicious claws tearing at stone as they remembered how to fight, golden eyes opening as they remembered how to see and spiked tail remembering its lethal sting. He had awoken, he did remember, he was Skarner and the hopes and dreams of his kind rested on him. For he would make sure this world was safe for his kind to return.

Akarubasa5/11/2016, 8:46:40 PM4 votes

Here is my shot at it:

Mistress of The Desert, Throne of the Sun, City of a Thousand Pillars, Shurima. The empire had many names. For us, it was "Cursed Lands", for they had the power and the audacity to take our prey and turn them into demigods, lifting our mark by themselves. How proud they were, oh, how foolish. The Shurimans had yet to learn, that those who dread us grant us the most power.

We walked through the masses of people filling the streets. They were waiting for their emperor to undergo the despicable death-defying ritual. However the emperor was not our only prey today. No, the whole city, the entire empire bore our mark. Unseen, unheard, we stepped on the stairs to the Dais and we watched the ritual happen, the same ritual that has already taken so many from our grasp and will now bring us so many more. We looked at the "brothers", reenacting the same old tale we have seen so many countless times, of birthright and envy, of misunderstanding and betrayal, of death. We witnessed as one walked into the light of the sun, embracing that which was his to take. And we saw his brother blasting him off his place. "I see water in his eyes." - "They are called … tears." The emperor died, his flesh not remade by the light, but burned to ashes by his friend. The sun unleashed it's wrath upon the city as soon as the man died. It's eternal light shattered every building, every plant, animal, human. We looked upon the desctruction. So many lifes to take, so much prey to hunt. And yet, the other brother was still standing, absorbing the power of the sun, making it's burning wrath his own, his tears completly vanished. We waited for him to die before taking the „brothers“ souls. But the man did not drift into oblivion. While the storm destroyed the capital, the once slave became a god. He turned to us, a mad grin on the remnants of his face. He saw us. He saw death. And he laughed.

What an arrogant being, thinking that it's lifetime as a slave was enough to justify this insolence. The man who thought he was free of all chains shall realize what folly it was to defy us. We turned to the ashes of the emperor, his soul waiting to be reaped. These two brothers who tried to cheat us. They shall realize that death is not only their end but also their redemption. But until then, let them be the architects of their own misery.

We left the city. No arrows were shot that day. The people did not, could not understand that their empire was going to fall that easily, without any sign of crumbling, of weakness. They chose the teeth. They should have known that every sunrise is followed by a sunset. And that every life, theirs and that of their empire, ends with us.

sneezing slug5/10/2016, 5:22:47 AM4 votes

Alright time to take a swing at this.

"RAHRHAHRBZHBAVv."

"HAGABAVFABRHhsnwjHabHHAGB"

incoherent screeching

--Rek'Sai

Joking. I'll be sure to put in an actual thingy the next chance I get.

RiotTummers5/11/2016, 8:09:38 PM4 votes

Lore/narrative are 100% not my wheelhouse but I'm enjoying reading all these! Awesome stuff!

Kekyoin3475/10/2016, 8:03:34 PM4 votes

Ok, so here is my take on what happened to Shurima. This is told to a man who was descended from Shurima and lived as a nomad of its desert.

"A mortal. Hmph. And here I thought I'd found something interesting."

"Greetings, great dragon. I wish to ask you something."

"You? Ask something of me? Speak, then. This should be amusing."

"You must have been around for many years. Surely you've heard the tales of Shurima."

“Indeed."

"I wish to know more about what happened that day. What happened to the kingdom. Please."

"You want to know more about what happened that day, hmm? Normally, I'd dispose of a mortal such as yourself... but luckily for you, I'm in a good mood. I'll indulge you. Let's see, it wasn't too long ago... only three or four centuries ago. I had flown over the kingdom many times, with its little "Sun Disc" above. They thought they were so amazing, as if their little ritual meant something. How naive. What did they call it again? Ascension? Yes, that's it. I had seen the day when those two young men both were Ascended. One became a jackal and the other a crocodile, How droll. Anyways, where was I? Ah, yes. The day of your king's Ascension. Yes, I saw him climb the stairs, so confident and proud. Azar scaled the stairs-"

"It’s Azir."

"Oh, sorry. Azir. As I was saying, that fool climbed to the dais and declared that all of Shurima was free, as he hugged the man next to him. That would have been a little more touching if that man didn't kill him ten seconds later. Xiro-"

"Xerath."

"Don't try my patience, boy. I don't care about what his name is. Xiro fired off a bolt of energy. Lightning, I believe. It hit your precious emperor and killed him. Then Xiro jumped on the dais and began to channel its power. Unfortunately for the rest of your ancestors, they were all burned alive and the kingdom fell."

"And what about Xerath?"

"I only got a glimpse, but he was glowing blue. The two other Ascended ran towards him. The last thing I saw was them grabbing him in a sarcophagus. Speaking of which, I think I saw the crocodile one recently. Yes, he was screaming something about blood and murder."

"Then it’s true. Shurima... it's..."

"Risen? Don't worry. That's no concern to both myself and you."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't particularly care about Shurima, boy. I've got another target in mind. And as for you... well, sadly my price is your life. You wanted to know about your ancient empire. Now you can take that knowledge to your grave."

"Please, I'll give you anything. Gold. food, sacrifices. Just spare me, please."

The dragon raised its claw. One of the stars raised up. "Apologies. You'll make a nice pile of ashes."

The man who had been speaking tried to run, but was struck down in a burst of light as the star hit him. The dragon pulled the star back, before raising into the night sky and flying off, with only a burned mark on the sand left behind.

regonas5/16/2016, 5:13:57 AM3 votes

So, today is the day. Also, i suggest announcing winners and your personal favorite. While winners might win something, personal favorite is just to show who you liked the most.

Sweetie Brella5/10/2016, 3:05:00 PM3 votes

Tell me, child. Have you ever heard the saying “the voice of the people is the voice of God?”

Some believed that Shurima was the boundless lands that it controlled. Others that it was the sea of wealth it had gathered. Perhaps the armies it could muster. The truth is, it was a great deal more than that. It was the people that lived in those lands. It was the merchants who toiled day and night for that wealth. It was the soldiers who fought and died in those armies.

For all his hubris, for all his blind ambition, and for all his grandeur, the last great Emperor of the sands knew this well. He knew that to become more than human, every man, woman and child in his vast empire would have to see him that way. If every last one of them desired to see him ascend, even the old gods would be helpless to stop him. That was the meaning of the disc of pure gold. The power of Shurima was that great.

So on that day; the day that the emperor, the man on the top of Shurima would climb to the heavens themselves, he raised his mighty voice. To all the corners of Shurima, he said that from that day, no one would ever be bound by the chains of enslavement. That every man, woman and child would be their own person. That every one of them would have their own name.

And on that day, the whole empire shouted with one voice, clamoring for the rise of their new God. One whose power was unyielding, whose sight was unclouded, whose love was unending. On that day, they all desired that he take his rightful place among the stars.

All, save one.

The man who he had considered his closest ally. The man who had labored ceaselessly by his side to aid the emperor on his path. The man who perhaps one day would be a God in his own right.

The man who had been shackled his whole life.

His voice alone dissented, desiring to see that mighty emperor fall instead of rise. But so strong has his voice, so blackened by rage was his heart, so maddened by the thought of eternal imprisonment was his mind, that his voice pushed back the cacophony of the empire. With that, the power that would make the emperor into a God was undone.

For what is a God to a non-believer?

Doctor Kill5/10/2016, 3:03:47 AM2 votes

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