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[Challenge] - "Why we Summon"

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After re-reading "Best of the Best" and "Dinner with Katarina" I realized that my favorite fanfics, as well as the thing I most try to express in my own writings about Valoran, all try to express what was originally handled by League Judgements and the Champion "Background" exerpts that the new Champions page refers to simply as "Lore". Namely:

Why are Champions here and why do they live this hellish existance of endless death and rebirth?

Within this question I see the potential for a series of stories perhaps similar in some ways to the propaganda films of Frank Capra during WWII. Not for Noxus or Demacia, but for the League of Legends picking up where Kalamanda left off.


Unlike Capra's films, this is not a sales pitch for Hate and War. This is a long, hard, but ultimately favorable look at the sacrifices of Champions, Summoners, and "Joe Demacia" to ensure peace on Valoran via the League of Legends. After all, the League has also become a Spectator Sport in Valoran.


1. No one story should exceed 5-7 pages

2. All stories must include at least two Characters (Champions, Summoners or otherwise) dealing with the question of Why They Fight upon the Fields of Justice.

3. In the end the League must be seen as worth the cost even if only grudgingly.

4. Please post any stories (as well as any comments) as Replies to this thread, that way the idea can keep coming around with each new iteration.

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That almost sounds like the Valoran Habitation Society- except that, of course, it deals more with the character's participation within the League rather than providing aliens a comfortable place to live...

I am finding it a little hard to understand just what those rules are being set up for, care to clarify- I might just try to do something for once

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The main purpose of the Capra films was to convince soldiers and the "average American" that participation in the Second World War was "worth the price" about to be paid in dollars, lives and personal sacrifice and that Germany and Japan were enemies worth stopping at any cost. Thus a pro-League stance is part of what makes the boat float. In keeping the length short, and the number of characters "with lines" small, it allows for a very narrow focus on specific aspects of the life of a specific character and how the League has affected them for good or ill. A narrow, episodic focus also allows for a broad survey of how multiple authors deal with similar subject matter and imparts the sense of a broad understanding of a topic rather than a specific character or plot. (see Batman: Gotham Knight, the Animatrix, Halo Legends, etc.)

In keeping with that idea I'd like to start a series of stories that have at their hearts questions like:

Why do the Champions fight?

Why do the Summoners summon?

What costs must the citizens of Valoran endure to ensure that the League operates?

What happens to those Runeterrans finding their homes trading hands because of a "sports match" hundreds of miles away?

What happens when Noxian or Demacian affiliated villagers reduse to abide by a League decision independant of their (current or former) sponsor City-State?

Just what are the denizens of Valoran giving up by choosing the League as opposed to some other solution?

What horrors lie in wait for Valoran if they go some other way (or heaven forbid, the League fails)?

What has interference of the League wrought on the worlds from whence extradimensional Champions come from?

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Question. Are you looking for an actual story, or rather, a direct interpritation of the political (and related) forces and reasons that answer all of the above questions? I could do either. = )

EDIT: Story with champions? Alright then. I can work with that. = )

~~It's the early morning in Noxus. Belthazor, an individual whom is not a summoner and lacks any of their powers, has recently arrived from Earth. Having a foreign perspective on the world and being somewhat uninformed, he's decided it would be appropriate to ask for a couple of opinions on the league. Let's see what Katarina and Morgana have to say about the league of legends, shall we?~~

<The group of three are sitting down at a small table outside a local coffee shop - to which Morgana promptly took the opportunity to scrutinize the quality of the pastries there with vigor. Morgana discovered that one of the pastries was stale, declared it to be heresy, and decided that they required replacement pastries that were fresh. While waiting for one of the shop employees to bring her a new pastry, Belthazor decided to ask...>

Belthazor: Well, if I'm going to be living here, I'm probably going to need to learn a bit about how things work. From what I've heard, it's nothing like my home world.

Morgana: Well, what do you know so far?

Belthazor: I know the League is an institute that was created to bring all the major military powers to the table to stop them from using rune weapons that were damaging the planet. I know league matches are to decide what would otherwise require several years of military campaigns, billions of dollar-equivalent-currency, and thousands of lives to decide. This alternative blocks the use of rune weapons, which have already done a significant amount of damage to the planet.

Katarina: Good start, but things are never really that simple, now are they?

Belthazor: Nope... things arn't that simple back on Earth, there's no reason to assume they would be here.

Katarina: I'm not fond of the league.

Belthazor: Why do you participate then?

Katarina: Because I have no choice. I actually liked the world the way it was before the League showed up, barring the rune weapons blowing up everything. I participated in actual wars, I did assassinations on a regular basis. I actually liked my job, and I liked it a great deal... but then the league came around, with their so-called mandate of "peace and freedom". Utter hypocracy.

Belthazor: Explain.

Katarina: When the League rolled around and the war ended, my job was taken from me. I was actually very happy with what I did. I enjoy killing... but rather than going around and killing random people like Mundo, I focused that desire onto something useful. Formal hits during wartime. Who are others to judge me for enjoying my job? What I did benefited my nation. Now that the league is around, the one place left on the planet where I can do something regularly is at the league, participating in matches... and I do some mercenary work sometimes, and privateering work in Bilgewater to keep me buisy. But it's not the same. It's empty. My home nation gets so little from that.

Belthazor: So really, the league comes at personal cost to you. Basically it cost your job.

Katarina: A job that I very much enjoyed doing. The replacement "job", if you can call it that, is competing in the league. You can probably see my frustration.

<Katarina jams one of her knives into a blueberry muffin and takes a bite, somewhat irritated about the state of the world>

Morgana: She's not the only one that has lost something because of the league.

Belthazor: But I thought you benefited from it?

Morgana: I do, but only because they offered me power that will be useful on my home planet. That doesn't mean I like their administration.

Katarina: Consider this. Matches in the league now have small groups of gladiators who compete, and the outcome of those matches decide who obtains what territory and what society people live in and what laws they live under. This is a replacement for warfare, it is not peace.

Morgana: It's just somewhat less bloody - but that's not necessarily a good thing.

Belthazor: I don't imagine I would be content with someone coming into my home country on Earth and telling me that the constitutional rights were being abolished in the area I lived because my home nation lost some sort of sporting match.

Katarina: No, you'd be angry, wouldn't you? Who are they to decide how you live your life when you have abo****ely no say in the rules you live under?

Morgana: The price for peace is too high when people's freedoms are suppressed to the point where they have no sway over how they live their lives. I know this more than anyone.

Belthazor: So what do you think will happen?

<Katarina takes out another knife and starts cutting on the table>

Katarina: I have done assassinations and mercenary work for most of my adult life. I know exactly what will happen.

Belthazor: Do tell!

<Katarina starts carving something onto the table>

<Belthazor and Morgana put their elbows up on the table and look over what she's "drawing">

Katarina: First, the uninformed and ignorant masses who care not for their own freedoms will provide them with massive public support. This has happened already. But you cannot restrain political powers in this manner for too long - the same reason why warfare couldn't stay. As soon as one power was backed far enough into a corner, they'd just use all their rune weapons because they have nothing left to lose except to take the rest of the planet down with them. Nations are not content losing, nor are political idealists.

<Katarina stops her carving and grabs another blueberry muffin, and takes a large bite>

Katarina: ...soon enough, some disgruntled politician will hire an assassin - like myself - to settle a score that couldn't be settled on the field. Then people will wonder how the person died or dissappeared, conspiracy theories will abound, and as more and more people are taken out in this manner, the league's weakness will be progressively more exposed.

Belthazor: And they can't do anything to stop assassinations, I assume.

Katarina: No, they can't. They do not have the authority to directly interfere in anything politically related within a city state. They cannot violate that rule, it's the only way they managed to get all the political powers to come to the table in the first place.

Morgana: I've seen it so many times throughout history. Nations rise and fall. Peace-treaties like this never last. They can last for a few decades at most as it taxes the people too heavily over time. But that temporary "peace" is never worth it.

Katarina: The biggest thing people lose is freedom. They have no method of deciding their own fate. Some people will be willing to throw their freedom away in return for peace, but in my opinion, anyone who would trade away their freedom in return for security deserves neither freedom nor security.

Belthazor: That sounds familiar...

Morgana: I know about your nation's history. You can't honestly look at this current system and say that it reflects your values.

Belthazor: Yes, you're right.

Katarina: For the league to operate, people have to be content with losing their territory, their homes, and their freedom and rising up against that is strictly prohibited. If you agreed with that, your own nation would never have existed.

Belthazor: So suppose Freljord loses a village to Demacia in a league match.

Katarina: For the league games to be taken seriously and respected, they have to be enforced, and to enforce them, you can't put up with any sort of resistence after the match has been decided. They either have to leave their village to find a new home, or accept living under new rule and under new laws.

Belthazor: And neither of you like that idea.

Morgana: No, we don't. It's a person's right to fight to defend what's theirs. Just because rules exist doesn't make them good.

Belthazor: So... you think it's only a matter of time before the league collapses?

Morgana: It's governing model is not sustainable. It's happened so many times throughout history, it can't work.

Katarina: I can see things falling apart already.

Morgana: Just give it a couple more decades, if that, and sooner or later the camel's back will break.

Katarina: I, however, am not content waiting it out for several decades - hence my disgruntlement.

Belthazor: I imagine I wouldn't be either if I were being denied my way of life and my home. So, Morgana, what about your home? You mentioned it.

Morgana: Long story made short, the price for peace is too high. Back on my home, I started a revolt against a tyrrany. It upsets me to see the ability to fight for what belongs to you, and what you believe in, to be taken away from people. I see Kayle's tyrrany as a reflection of the league. They had the best of intentions when they started out, sure, so did the league, but history teaches you valuable lessons. I know where things are heading here. I've seen it so many times.

Katarina: 'till then...

<Katarina jams a knife into the table>

Katarina: I'll just have to keep myself buisy until the assassination needed to topple the card house comes around... then, I'll push it over.

Belthazor: I get the feeling you'd enjoy pushing over the card house.

Katarina: I would. But just because I'd enjoy doing it doesn't mean it's wrong. Like I said... those who would willingly trade away their freedom in return for some so-called "peace" don't really deserve either.

Belthazor: Well, that's a very... bleak take on things.

<Morgana takes a bite of another pastry>

Morgana: Yes, it is, but life isn't perfect. On the note of life not being perfect, I'm going to go barbecue the shop owner for giving me another stale pastry. Be back in a minute.

<Morgana goes off inside>

Belthazor: ...I'm going to drink my hot chocolate and pretend I do not hear any screaming.

Katarina: Some of us like to savor every scream, you know...

Belthazor: ...well don't look at me.


I do hope it wasn't too, too, too boring. If you were looking for a prize at the bottom of the cereal box, I apologize, but there is none.

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Senior Member


Whatever works for you man. I deliberately left that part of the format vague because I didn't want it to get in the way.

I'd prefer if authors at least used a "framing device" like a Summoner giving a Public Address to Novice Summoners or an essay full of dry historical analysis be written in a similar way to actual books full of dry, historical analysis. (check your local library kids, lol) but whatever final shape it takes, I'm totally all right with that.

What I'm most hoping for are more personal stories about a Champion or Summoner and the perks and costs of being affiliated with the League on their lives and why they are alright with that. Again, I'm totally fine with wherever your story ends up.

If you're looking for inspiration my suggestions are to read "Dinner with Katarina" and check out the link in the OP to a teaser about the Capra movies and see what shakes out.

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Senior Member


There you go ^^^

= )

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Wow. I can't believe that my "Dinner with Katarina" Short inspired this. Thank you for your praise. ^_^

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ITS PrinnyDood:
Wow. I can't believe that my "Dinner with Katarina" Short inspired this. Thank you for your praise. ^_^

Better belive it- I'll be posting my own spin on "Why We Summon" here later- perhaps

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Senior Member


My own ‘submission’ if you will for Why we Summon. Just wish it was a little longer…

Blind Devotion

There was much to celebrate in the beleaguered island state of Ionia, a mere two days after their triumph over the tyranny of Noxus. But even greater than their liberation is the event that spawned three months, almost to the day, after their victory. It was a homecoming, of all things, pitched together by the thankful Ionian populace for the forerunner of their victory- Lee Sin.

Though there was an outdoor feast prepare the people decided to amass a public audience in reception. As a decided special treat, the weary families were to place their children front and foremost to show their saviour just what he had afforded them. Lined up outside of the White Lotus Garden, the procession was mixed with floral arrangements and decorative miniature bonsai that were made to resemble the one the Champion had sat under. All those assembled to individually thank the blind monk as returned, triumphant in his induction into the League. Hopeful that their guest of honor would stay for the feast no expense had been spared in lading large tables with as many dishes as possible along with plenty of colourful sweets.

The standing party saw Lee Sin approaching from a great distance, accompanied by the great Master Yi who was dressed in bright Ionian colours. The civilians began to slap steadily as the two made their way up the tranquil pathway to the garden. As they rounded the final bend the crowd erupted into full out applause followed by a chorus of cheers.

The last remaining Wuju master stayed back, being somewhat removed from the entire celebration. He had been a part of the original festivities but this day was for their newest Champion. He did. However, he happened to spot an exceptionally scrumptious looking cherry tart with his high powered goggles and thought he’d stick around.

Chiseled and tattooed, Lee Sin wadded into the center of the split crowd while accepting the eager hands. He couldn’t see their bright faces, but listened to each man woman and child as they thanked him for what he had done.

“Thank you.”

“I still have a farm to return to!”

“My daughter, she knows what justice is now!”

It was at the opposite end of the line, near the entrance to the garden itself that Yi noticed that there was someone that was in Lee Sin’s way. He was a youth and was as dressed up as any other of the participants yet he was far more worse-for-wear. He had short and well groomed hair, but a swath on the right side had been apparently scorched off and replaced by a shiny pink burn scar. He face was similarly marred, with the mess stretching over his eye which had been covered by a stately patch. His legs seemed almost mismatched with the left being a poorly concealed hextech prosthetic which Yi had assumed had come from the very accommodating Bandle City.

The crowd’s boisterous merriment subsided and some even edged away from the boy as Lee Sin drew near. Though he couldn’t see, Lee Sin stopped at a respectable distance ahead of the younger man.

“Greetings.” He offered gruffly.

“Lee Sin, sir.” The boy gave a bow. “I had trained to be a summoner with the interest of bettering Ionia and freeing her.” Around his, the anxious onlookers broke their unease and gave way to a soft ovation.

Lee Sin gave his own little bow, much to the boy’s astonishment. “That is an honorable ideal, indeed.”

“Of course, she is already free but given to opportunity I would still see my dream of joining the League to punish Noxus. Just like you!” Around him, the people whooped loudly. “And even if we do not fight them to free Ionia, I would like you to be my first summon, if you would consent.” All others fell into silence was the boy’s remaining eye glowed with expectant pride, and a smile blessed his lightly distorted face.

Eyes darted between the two as the silence that was the monk’s response lengthened.

“Please… do not misunderstand.” Lee began. “Noxus has paid for what they had did.” Passively, he made a move to continue on though the archway into the garden. Shocked, the boy stood, with his mouth open.

Just as Lee Sin was about to disappear he was called out once more. “Is that all? Sir, did you set yourself ablaze in protest to be so complacent after we had defeated the enemy?”

“I asked you not to misunderstand.” Lee Sin reiterated as he returned to the conversation. “Through my pain, the League decided upon the appeal to their first ruling. I had done that much.”

From the back of the crowd, completely undetected, Yi moved forward expecting a potential scene. He stayed as far away as possible while still being capable to jumping in to resolve any issues that would arise.

Lee Sin’s face was stony and his tone practiced. “It is through the efforts of others that your home has been liberated and Noxus has honoured the new verdict as hoped.” He drew up both of his arms and held them as if representing a scale. “There was victory.” He raised his right. “But there could have been defeat.” Just like his last demonstration, he raised his left hand.

“Fewer people than necessary understand that if Ionia had lost, she would be subjugated even further.” He lowered his arms and his observers lowered their gaze. “Fight always for justice, summoner, but know that self-righteousness is a fog; impairing your true sight…”

Everyone watched the Champion go. No one made a sound. The boy’s face contorted in rage and his remaining eye bulged in disbelief. He howled in rage and collapsed to the ground, prompting Master Yi’s intervention. With not another word, the youth was escorted away by the stern handed Champion.

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Why We Summon

Part of an ongoing series detailing the lives of Summoners, Champions and the League of Legends
31 December - 21CLE

I have been walking for days now, my new leather hiking boots are scuffed, stained and finally worn in enough to move without stabbing my feet. The blisters on said feet are raw and bleeding because I am too tired to Heal myself yet again today. Ezreal makes it look easy even in his memories I think bitterly to myself. The man can't hide anything from his Summoner and I still had no idea what I was in for. After two days of hard march sustained only by healing spells and sped along my way by magic I have nearly reached my objective. All that remains is a few hours hard march and I'd be in sight of what Ezreal and I had died for almost a dozen times the day before. Almost there.

I have spent my whole life at the Institute of War, training, studying and fighting battles since I was a small boy of seven. I am twenty-eight now, full grown and full of vital energy. I can and have participated in up to a dozen battles a day upon the Fields of Justice and yet I have never known the terror of a true Rune War. Many of my contemporaries (and I'm ashamed to say, I myself) often times treat the League of Legends as nothing more than our personal sporting grounds. Even though we possess the ability to literally record memory and pass the actual experiences of veterans of the last Rune War from Summoner to Summoner few choose to “expose” themselves to history in this way but it can happen regardless. A Summoner is not free to pick and choose what memories he collects over the years. Each time he joins minds with a being he is exposed to new experiences which jog new memories from both parties to the joining. Memories handed down from Summoner to Summoner quickly devolve into fragments and snatches of ill-remembered nightmares.

For example, I carry within me scattered memories of one unfortunate soldier who was caught at the edge of the last battle over Mogron Pass which ended before it began with a fire that spread from horizon to horizon thanks to the efforts of a single Champion high on a hill with a plethora of ability power and mana runes and some excellent timing some two hundred years ago. The pikeman whose memories I hold knew none of that at the time. He just felt himself suddenly go from parade rest at the outset of a siege to burning alive under a mountain of flames that fell from the sky. Those familiar with fighting Annie or Brand on the Field of Justice are no doubt well aware of that particular agony but that is not the worst of it. The remaining fragments of memory from the soldier from Mogron Pass are windows into forty years of disfigurement and constant agony. A raw recruit rarely merits the kind of magical healing so casually afforded to an army's Champions. Hell has few tortures worse than the memories of an elderly Summoner save perhaps living the acquired catalogue of nightmares for oneself.

I slip on a muddy patch of moss and my knee expertly missed the soft mud to either side of the sharp-cornered rock Why do I subject myself to this? I ask myself as I gather the heavy purple robe in my hands and pull it tighter around my soft, undisciplined body. I am now reduced to a slow (but determined!) limp that Jericho Swain would be proud of. The pain in my knee subsides to a dull ache after some time as I crest the last small hillock and looked down into the river valley at a nondescript hamlet Champions and Summoners had died over thirty times for only a few days ago.

Beycrof is a small town on the opposite side of the Serpentine River from Demacia. Nominally part of the Freljord city-state, Freljord's forces do not have the kind of reach and influence this far South to properly counter the might of Demacia to the South-west. Even Garen himself could “occupy” the settlement for Demacia simply by renting a room at the local Inn. Aside from a peasant militia more skilled at driving away zombies errant from the Howling Marsh than proper battle, Beycrof boasted no defences. No curtain wall, no town guard, not even an armed Sheriff to keep the peace; not that anyone was fool enough to rob or assault anyone in a community where absolutely everyone knew their face, voice, silhouette and carried lances to deal with the local wildlife.

Beycrof became a point of conflict because Beycrof sits at one end of at the only stone bridge for twenty miles in either direction. Built by hand by the villagers themselves, Beycrof Bridge is fast becoming a stopping point for caravans between Demacia and Freljord, though any armies seeking to cross the Serpentine River between Freljord and Demacia still need to use the first available ford to the North and circle around or through Bubbling Bog in the offing. Demacia proclaimed the bridge an access point to their demesne and that they would rather garrison the hamlet across the river than build a permanent encampment on the “Demacian” side of the river. Naturally, Freljord objected and the two city-states brought the matter before the League. I had been selected to represent the Freljord side and did battle to determine the fate of the villagers below me... and I had failed miserably. If there was one cause to trace for the loss of Freljord, it was definitely me. I had been too aggressive, made too many mistakes, and destroyed any hope of victory.