[Rough Draft] Trundle Lore Remake (Old + New + Judgment + Fan-fic)

Trolls have never been well-regarded beings on Valoran. Generally speaking, they are barbaric, cannibalistic, and sneaky. They are creatures relegated to the murky recesses of the world, hidden away from most intelligent beings. Despite their maleficent natures, however, the Ruhgosk of the Plague Jungles never deserved the grisly fate that was visited upon them. Generations ago, a twisted necromancer known as Hakolin the Bonecrafter attempted to enslave the Ruhgosk tribe. These trolls are considerably more gentle than their ill-mannered brethren of the Freljords, although still uncouth by human standards. The Ruhgosk fought tooth and claw against the necromancer, ultimately driving him from their land. As a parting gift, Hakolin afflicted the trolls with a leprous disease, forever cursing the members of the tribe. The leprosy would have rotted their flesh away to nothing were it not for the trolls' natural ability to regenerate. Caught forever in a hideous rotting state, the Ruhgosk endured their curse while desperately in search of a cure. They never found one.

A wise Ruhgosk shaman learned that he could magically bind the disease to a single troll, provided that the troll could bear the weight of the entire tribe's curse upon himself. However, there was no such troll...until the birth of Trundle. His ability to regenerate is so profound that it appeared as if he did not carry the disease. As the clever Trundle grew, he came to understand his gift and what it could do for his people.

Trundle's eyes flew open as something sharp pricked his hand. He was surprised to find himself strapped down to a makeshift altar, surrounded by a circle of runes. The shamans of his tribe stood hunched over him, ready to begin the ceremony that would change his life forever.

He had been so young then, freshly wounded from the daily ritual of being bullied by the younger trolls. Looking back at his former self, he almost couldn't blame them - he had always been funny-looking, even by troll standards, and being the runt of the entire tribe didn't help the situation. Had any other smaller or uglier troll been born into the tribe, Trundle was sure that he would have redirected the bullying to the new target, and happily joined in himself.

What he distinctly remembered was the elders' whispered promises - that if he were to bear the weight of the entire tribe's curse onto himself, it would be the noblest sacrifice in the entire history of their race. They told him that he was the only one who could save them all when they beheld the innate regeneration that only he was born with. The young Trundle had gotten carried away with what they told him - he fantasized about the admiration in the eyes of those who had once ridiculed him, the adoration of his entire tribe, and the riches and comfort he would enjoy as they lauded his sacrifice. This moment would change his life forever as he sought more power from his clan.

Most importantly of all, he saw his life without all the bullying.

So he gave himself to the disease, letting it ravage his body. In many ways, it was a success - the Ruhgosks rejoiced in their newfound freedom and lavished their adoration on Trundle. At first his dreams seemed to be becoming a reality. Riches, comfort, adoration were all given to him.

But it was not to last – before long, his kin began to keep their distance from him. Trundle became a horrifying creature whose flesh constantly sloughs off his body, only to be re-grown in an unremitting cycle. Seeing his open sores and diseased flesh was apparently too much for even trolls to handle, despite having been similarly afflicted mere weeks earlier. Soon the riches and the comfort even had gone away.

He traveled towards northbound in hopes of eventually finding someone who could dispel the heinous curse completely. Perhaps even more adoration would await him when his tribe could only see how powerful he had become.

Along his travels while within the Plague Jungles, Trundle met a strange monkey that could talk who introduced himself as Kong. Trundle expected Kong to just ignore him like his Ruhgosk tribe had done to him. Yet to his amazement Kong never did such things to him for Kong was more interested in finding stronger individuals to fight him. Kong had asked him why he was so far away from his clan. Trundle explained he wanted to find a cure for the disease that afflicted him. Thus the two traveled together north of the Plague Jungles as both of their dreams would take them north. These two strange and unlikely individuals became fast friends. Trundle made an excellent sparring partner for Kong and Trundles presence kept many a hungry maw from them.

The two were traveling through the Kumungu Jungle. Enjoying their time as they passed through, eating the fruits that Kong threw down. As they were nearing a logging camp when a cougar had jumped out from the brush and pounced upon Trundle's friend. Kong had no trouble though, he had fought lions twice this cougar's size and so he threw her off with raw strength. The cougar landed on her feet and growled, her head kept swaying back and forth as she kept the two in her sights. Trundle held his stone club tightly and Kong lowered his body as he was ready to pounce back upon the cougar. Kong tried to take a step forward but pulled his leg back as a Spear landed swiftly infront of his foot. Trundle look from where the spear might have come and he could see her, a young human that was barely visible within the brush. Trundle was slightly confused as he wondered why so far away from civilization this human was.

"Stop right there Noxians! You defilers will no longer harm my home!" The young human shouted.

Trundle and Kong looked to each other and back to their opponents with matching confusion upon their faces. "We no defiler, we just passing through." Trundle had said to the human.

"Hmm, your right. You don't look the same as the Noxian men who were here earlier."

"Mind calling off your friend?" Trundle had said. Noticing Kong and the cougar were still having a standoff.

"Of course. Come here Kiyla!" As she waved to the cougar. The cougar was wary but trusted the human more than the monkey. "Where are you two traveling to anyway?"

"Me and Kong here are traveling north. Kong is in search of place to become strongest. I'm in search of a cure."

"North. North is where I might find others like myself, I will join you. I'm Nidalee."

"Trundle."

"Nice to meet you both." Nidalee said as she picked up her spear. The cougar wandered off, seeing better prey.

"Drat. Today I was hoping I would get to fight some more." Kong said with a bit of sadness like a kid whose playtime was cut short.

The trio traveled through the Shurima deserts. The only new company they had made was a flock of scavenging vultures who kept dining on the parts of flesh that kept falling off of Trundle. Yet it wasn't all bad, the trio had swapped stores, joked around, and sparred. They even spent their time rummaging through ruins for ancient treasures, Trundle most of all enjoyed finding these treasures for his own personal greed. They even hunted after a sandworm that Kong had pursued which had made for a mighty meal. The trio rested at some ruins that was along the edge of the border. Their journey getting ever closer to their desires.

On the trio's travel in Mogron Pass, Kong met a strange man in exotic clothes who was in deep meditation. Kong asked him who the strongest warrior in the north was, and Yi told him about Summoner's Rift. The tale intoxicated Kong, a place where he could battle the strongest fighters in the world was, to him, paradise. Kong asked Yi to introduce him to this place, and to teach him the ways of humans, so that he could be a fitting champion. In return, he would honor Yi by using Yi's Wuju style to become the greatest warrior Runeterra had ever seen. Admiring his passion, Yi agreed, but under the condition that Kong would one day teach the lessons of Wuju to a pupil of his own. In the spirit of this agreement, he renamed Kong Wukong, and gave him a weapon suited to his unusual nature - an enchanted staff that the young Doran had crafted. The weapon was an unrivalled masterpiece. Guided by Yi, Wukong traveled to Summoner's Rift to prove himself as the best, and to show the world the true power of Wuju.

Nidalee asked Yi where she might find more people like him, like a pride of humans. Yi chuckled and pointed her in the direction to Demacia which was North East of here. Wukong said his farewell to his friends and his friends said their farewells as well. Even Nidalee had said farewell to Trundle as they were reaching Demacia. Despite her pleas, Trundle didn't go with her to Demacia. As Trundle knew he was an unpleasant sight or smell and wanted Nidalee to be with others of her kind. His mind weighed with doubt that even Demacia would have a cure for his affliction. Even if he didn't want to show it Wukong or Nidalee, sorrow was growing within his heart as he was going to be alone, again just like when his tribe had made him an outcast.

Trundle continued traveling northbound in search of a cure. Passing through various places by himself like the Howling Marsh and the Serpentine River until he reached as far north as he could, Freljord. The journey wasn't so bad he thought to himself for he was becoming more confidant and powerhungry with every step.

There in the Freljord he finally had met other Trolls, the Frost Trolls of Freljord. Despite their efforts to pound Trundle into a fine powder, Trundle just kept regenerating and healing just as quickly as the pain was received. When brought before their Chieftian, the Cheiftain deemed that Trundle could join their warband. Yet none expected him to live long compared to the other Troll warbands.

Trundle's warband once followed a foolish and cowardly chieftain. Under such a weak leader, Trundle feared he and his kin would fall prey to the other troll hordes scattered across the tundra for Trundle was informed this warband was the smallest of all warbands. When his challenge to the chieftain ended in humiliation, Trundle did something that wasn't very troll-like: instead of his fist, he turned to his wits. Thinking on his hairy feet, he spun a tall tale about the troll leaders of old, claiming they wielded weapons of great power as symbols of their right to rule. Though he'd made up the story on the spot, Trundle wagered that if he could find or steal such a weapon, he would become the rightful leader of the warband. The trolls believed him, but none thought him capable of undertaking such a challenge. Knowing the boastful troll would die trying, the foolish chieftain agreed and Trundle departed to the familiar sound of mocking laughter.

Alone but undaunted, Trundle ventured into the foreboding realm of the dreaded Ice Witch. There, hidden among the many ancient and dangerous secrets, he hoped to find a weapon to prove his elaborate tale. He out-muscled the Ice Witch's guards and outsmarted her dark magic traps, but nothing he scavenged matched the power he'd described to his kin. The Ice Witch was not unaware of this troll who dared to trespass for she could see him in a sheet of black ice; like a fortune teller and her crystal ball. Finally, after several hours he found an unexpected prize: a huge and magical club of never-melting True Ice. Grasping the weapon, he marveled at the cold power that ran through him. The disease that been plaguing him for most of his life seemed to stop. His body began to transform, his muscles rippling, his body growing. When the transformation was done, Trundle grew to five times his normal height, his flesh stopped rotting away and his muscles became thick; he resembled the Ice Trolls of his warband.

But then the wrathful yet curious Ice Witch herself appeared. As she summoned her dark magic, Trundle believed he had met his end, but another clever idea struck him. With a knowing grin, he offered the Ice Witch a devious proposition: a troll army, he told her, would be of much more use to her than one troll corpse. The Ice Witch smiled a devious smile agreed to his terms. What Trundle didn't know was the magical club he had found was cursed and only healed him of his illness as long as he held it.

When Trundle returned to the warband, his fellow trolls bowed to his conquest. Calling his weapon "Boneshiver," he took a moment to enjoy the look of numb shock on his chieftain's face. If he were like his old self he would have hesitated with fear. Yet he was a new troll and so he caved it the cheiftain's face with much glee. The chieftain's smashed face reminded him of the Rugshok Shaman of his old tribe.

Seizing command, Trundle announced that there would no longer be chieftains - only a Troll King before whom all of his kind would kneel. The trolls rallied behind their brash, new leader and prepared for the coming war. His his might Trundle had reunited all of the Ice Trolls within Freljord into a single warband.

With Trundle leading the charge, the time of the trolls had finally come.