The Long Gun of the Law

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SpicyJackTheBard

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01-09-2012

I figured that I would write a story about a summoner and his relationship with one of the League Champions, since the most lore we seem to get about the characters comes from their judgments and the JoJ. I warn you all ahead of time: the summoner in question is a parallel to who I am, yet please don’t let that deter you.


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SpicyJackTheBard

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01-09-2012

Part 1: The Best-Laid plans of Drunken Men…

It began in a bar. Just like all great adventures in fantasy worlds, it began with a small group of friends sitting at a table together, carousing, and alternating between laughter and pints of ale. My friends and I had just finished with a long day at the Ministry of War, training ourselves to be better summoners, (though some of us needed more practice than others) and were finally taking a load off in our favorite bar in Bilgewater.

My name is Jack, though when I sailed the high seas, I was known as “Spicy Jack, the Bard of Bilgewater” for my talents in storytelling and instruments. Not a very fearsome name, but it suited me just fine. The cool metal of the tankard in my hand jolted me back from daydreaming as one of my compatriots, an Ionian summoner named Lee, shouted for another round.
He and I were almost total opposites, he being tall and broad, while I was slightly shorter and slender. More importantly, he was a better combatant when it came to the League. In fact, all of the summoners at the table showed more skill than I did, though that is neither here nor there. When we came together as a group, we formed one of the deadliest teams to ever traverse the Fields of Justice.

“Oy! Jack!” he shouted, passing his tankard to a passing serving girl, “Are you having another?”

I shook my head with a smile on my face, “I’m afraid not, ‘Doom Slayer’,” I said, referring to the name he used on the Fields of Justice, “We agreed that I was going to be teleporting the rest of us back to the Ministry, and I don’t want to wind up throwing us into the ocean like last time.”

Guffaws erupted from all but Stephen, who instead threw an obscene gesture my way, causing more laughter to ensue. You see, whenever we go out for drinks away from the Ministry of War, one of us is asked to prepare a teleportation spell so we didn’t pass out in the streets of whatever city-state we were visiting, and tonight it was my turn. Last week, Stephen had drunk a little bit too much Graggy Ice, and wound up dumping us into the ocean about twenty feet from the pier we had been standing on.

Once the next round of beverages came by, we all returned to our conversation of our performances on the Fields today. “I’ve been thinking about doing a different build for Jax,” Stephen said, he being the best of all of us. If he had an idea for anything pertaining to the League of Legends, you knew it would be good. He proceeded to explain to us his idea for a jungling Jax build.

At those two “j” words, Wallace spoke up. Wallace came from Piltover, and always had a neatly trimmed beard, spectacles like mine, and usually wore a knit hat pulled down around his ears. “Jungle Jax?” he said, using the soft “j” sound. Whenever one of us would propose a build for the jungles of Summoner’s Rift, we would always use the soft “j”. So “Jungle Jax” sounded like “Yungle Yax”, “Jungle Skarner” turned into “Yungle Yarner” and so forth. It was yet another goofy habit we had all gotten into over the course of our working relationship.

Stephen, Lee, Wallace, two more Ionian summoners named Tay and John, a Frejlordian named Jakob, and myself all continued our conversation as we drank, and I foolishly chose to down a few more tankards of grog. I say foolishly because it may or may not have impaired my judgment in what I said after a while.
“Guys, I think I’m going to ask out one of the champions.”

Only John and Stephen heard me, the rest taking up a pirate’s drinking song that some of the other patrons of the bar joined in with. “Why would you want to do that?” John asked, leaning in close, almost shouting so his voice could be heard over the singing summoners and pirates.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because I have a good working relationship with her already, and I genuinely like her.” I said, my voice slurring only slightly.

Stephen reached across the table (an easy feat for him, considering he was about as tall as Lee and a lot more slender), and smacked me in the head, knocking my spectacles slightly off-kilter.

“What was that for?!” I shout, the pain returning me slightly to sobriety.

“For even entertaining such a foolish notion. Depending on which champion you’re talking about, you may be digging yourself a shallower or deeper grave. Either way, it’s a bad thing. Don’t do it.”

John was a little more interested in who my intended was, “Which champion?”

“Caitlyn,” I responded, almost abashedly.

He had to stand up in order to reach across the table and smack me in the head.

“What was that for?!” I ask again, “I’m not used to this kind of abuse!”

“She’s out of your league,” John said, Stephen nodding beside him, “Have you taken a look at her? She’s freaking gorgeous. That, combined with the fact that she’s one of the most popular champions in the League right now… yeah, you’re kind of screwed.”

I felt the heat rising up my neck as I ran a hand through my short brown hair, a nervous habit of mine, “So? If Bob Nashahago could get a date with Nidalee, then why can’t I get one with Caitlyn?”

Stephen tried to smack me in the head again, though I evaded it, “First off, Bob is well known throughout Runeterra. You have barely made a blip on the radar. That, and Caitlyn is WAY more popular than Nidalee. Like John said: You don’t have a chance.”

I gave a slight shrug, “Doesn’t mean I can’t try.” By this point, Jakob and Lee had sat down with the three of us, having finished their song. Tay and Wallace continued to sing with the pirates, diving into rousing songs like “The Yordles Stole My Pots” and “The Noxian’s Wife”. The Frejlordian and Ionian were listening intently to the conversation between Stephen, John, and myself, and both burst out laughing when I made my last statement.

Jakob was the first to recover, tears in his eyes from laughter, “If you get a date with Caitlyn, I’ll kiss Cassiopeia in the middle of the street!” he said, clapping me on the back, his face turning red from both alcohol and mirth. “Seeing you trying to ask out Caitlyn is going to be a lot more entertaining than watching you play, though it will be just as painful to see,” Lee added, giving me a great white smile.

I looked at the other four summoners at the table, “Alright, with you lot as my witnesses, if I get a date with Caitlyn, Sherriff of Piltover, then we’ll have to ensure that Jakob has a date with Cassiopeia.” They all smiled drunken grins right back at me and nodded. I barked a laugh and downed the rest of my beverage, slamming it back on the table. The resulting belch caused the pirates at the table next to us to cheer and raise their tankards in salute, one that I returned with a simple thumbs-up.

Standing, staggering, I gathered my compatriots, dragging Tay and Wallace away from their new-found friends. Walking with some difficulty out to the pier, we all made ready to return to the Ministry of War. A chanting incantation rose from my lips, and we could feel space bending around us as it folded to place the seven of us in a tree about one mile away from the Ministry. I wound up, upside down, my summoner’s robes tangled up in the branches, me being dangled upside down. Stephen began laughing as he made his way down to the ground saying, “See? I’m not the only one that messes up when drunk!”

“At least he got us further,” Wallace responded before vomiting in a nearby bush, and the bickering began anew.

I blocked their words out as we walked back to the Ministry. I had a date with destiny, and hopefully Caitlyn too.

Please go ahead and post your thoughts below, especially if they are complimentary.


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Elsaliss

Senior Member

01-09-2012

Quote:
Originally Posted by SpicyJackTheBard View Post
Part 1: The Best-Laid plans of Drunken Men…

It began in a bar. Just like all great adventures in fantasy worlds, it began with a small group of friends sitting at a table together, carousing, and alternating between laughter and pints of ale. My friends and I had just finished with a long day at the Ministry of War, training ourselves to be better summoners, (though some of us needed more practice than others) and were finally taking a load off in our favorite bar in Bilgewater.

My name is Jack, though when I sailed the high seas, I was known as “Spicy Jack, the Bard of Bilgewater” for my talents in storytelling and instruments. Not a very fearsome name, but it suited me just fine. The cool metal of the tankard in my hand jolted me back from daydreaming as one of my compatriots, an Ionian summoner named Lee, shouted for another round.

“Oy! Jack!” he shouted, passing his tankard to a passing serving girl, “Are you having another?”
Just have a question. Why doesn't 'Jack', who went sailing on a ship and is surrounded by pirates, have a sailor's accent? Even his friend says, 'Oy' and yet no accent? Also what is the age range of the summoners? I'm pretty sure that a 20 year old would not introduce himself to someone by saying 'my name is Jack', especially since he had been sailing for a good chunk of his life, as it appears.

I hope I'm not coming across as a downer, I just thought I would put some things out there that you could reflect upon. I think the concept is quite unique and I enjoyed this first post!


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SpicyJackTheBard

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01-09-2012

Quote:
Originally Posted by Silent Warden View Post
Just have a question. Why doesn't 'Jack', who went sailing on a ship and is surrounded by pirates, have a sailor's accent? Even his friend says, 'Oy' and yet no accent? Also what is the age range of the summoners? I'm pretty sure that a 20 year old would not introduce himself to someone by saying 'my name is Jack', especially since he had been sailing for a good chunk of his life, as it appears.

I hope I'm not coming across as a downer, I just thought I would put some things out there that you could reflect upon. I think the concept is quite unique and I enjoyed this first post!
Thank you very much, and I will keep that in mind for the next installment.


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Farnbil

Senior Member

01-09-2012

I can't help but root for Jack. The fancy of dating a champion would make a really good quest.

But are you sure Lee Sin entered the league so much later than Caitlyn?


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SpicyJackTheBard

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01-09-2012

Quote:
Originally Posted by Farnbil View Post
I can't help but root for Jack. The fancy of dating a champion would make a really good quest.

But are you sure Lee Sin entered the league so much later than Caitlyn?
The Lee in this story is not Lee Sin. :P If it was, I would have said so. XD


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Jaykoboy

Senior Member

01-09-2012

Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! I'm going to make a dork out of myself...but this is a HUGE sign of my approval, so don't worry.

Can I do a cameo?

I don't care if I'm a major character or just some guy who gets named and then rolled over by a steamroller, I LOVE doing cameos. In GOOD fanfiction. Which this is.

About 90% of the time, I'm turned down, but when I am...well...let's say Vayne nearly killed me. Frightening.

But if I DO get a cameo, please, no bringing up the horrible 'Jaykoboy x Riven' incident. I mean, sure, it was fun at first...but that fanfiction still sits as a horrible scar on my memory.

So, how 'bout it?

-Jaykoboy-

P.S: I really DO like your story. It was well written.


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SpicyJackTheBard

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01-09-2012

Yes, Jaykoboy, I will gladly give you a cameo.


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Jaykoboy

Senior Member

01-09-2012

YES! Thank you.


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SpicyJackTheBard

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01-09-2012

Part 2: One Good Turn…

We all woke up with the same screaming headache. Stephen’s was so intense he simply lay in bed for hours, moaning, until someone came around with breakfast. Naturally, the scent of eggs caused him to regurgitate the remaining poisons from the previous night.

Upon seeing us, one of the councilors rolled his eyes and told us that we were banned from the Fields of Justice for the day, even for practice, lest we bring shame to our city-states. All seven of us were grateful, though Stephen and Jakob were mildly disappointed that they wouldn’t even be able to keep their metaphorical blades sharp.

John, Stephen, Lee, and myself met in the common room for the hallway and began talking while Jakob ran to get tea for the lot of us. “Do you really think that Jakob will hold to his end of the bet if you actually get a date?” Lee asked me. “Most likely,” I responded, my raw throat making my sailor’s accent even thicker, “A Frejlordian doesn’t make that kind of promise unless he intends to keep it. They’re usually good to their word.” Various forms of quiet laughter arose from the table.

Jakob returned with five steaming ceramic cups of tea, which we all sipped quietly for a moment before returning to our conversation, “So how do you intend to ask out the Sherriff of Piltover?” the Frejlordian asked, “assist her in the night by chasing down a criminal?” He made a grand gesture, as if it was one of Taric’s romantic plays he was acting out, much to the amusement of my fellow summoners. “Nay,” I said, the honey in the tea having soothed my throat some, “though that would be a great idea if the situation called for it.”

Lee had been sitting there pensively, listening to the rest of us talk for a good while before he finally spoke up, his voice almost a whisper so he wouldn’t hurt his ears so much, “But how will we know you got a date? We’re not just going to follow you around Piltover until you run into her.” And I felt a smile work its way onto my face. “I know a little spell just for the occasion,” I said.

You see, being a summoner is not just about learning how to summon great champions from the corners of the world and pitting them against one another. Far from it. It’s also about being a competent mage. However, this competence is only usually assured when there is a nexus nearby. Otherwise, our magic could be hit-and-miss, and when it misses, it drains on your personal constitution instead. However, at the Ministry of War, there is a very large nexus that can provide enough of the right magical energy to fuel our spells, both on the Fields of Justice and off. Oddly enough, there are only two city-states with a nexus large enough to accommodate our magical needs: Bilgewater and Zaun. During my magical training, I had created a cantrip that creates an invisible eye that is always a few feet up and behind my head, and a corresponding spell that allows some to see what that eye sees.

I drew upon the power of the nexus, weaving the flows of magic with relative ease and gave each of my compatriots a means of viewing what the eye saw, much to their pleasure. “Now, you will all see as I see, and perhaps some more as well,” I told them, “If you gents will excuse me, I have to go and get ready.” With that, I rose and returned to my chambers to clean up and get dressed for my visit to Piltover. As I stood in the shower, letting the hot water clear my thoughts, I gazed at the tattoo on my left arm. Every summoner had one, and it could not be replicated. Mine simply read “SpicyJackTheBard” with a string of numbers below it. It was an easy way of identifying summoners, and one that none but the ministry of Justice could replicate, due to the magical nature of the ink used in the tattooing.

I shook my head, droplets of water flying from my short hair as I stepped out of the steam to dry off and shave. I removed everything save for a small patch of scruff on the end of my chin, much like what goats have, and rubbed the smooth skin to make sure the straight razor left behind no nicks. Replacing the spectacles on the bridge of my nose, I began to dress, slipping on a pair of thick wool trousers, a white linen shirt, and a belt with three throwing knives on one side and a short sword on the other. Slinging my lute across my back with its leather strap was a chore of its one, but a labor of love to keep the tuning right. Finally, I topped off the ensemble with a wide-brimmed hat. It was my preferred outfit to wear when I used to sail the high seas, and it still fit me comfortably.

“How do I look?” I asked my friends in the common room, who had now been joined by Tay and Wallace.

Stephen rose to clap me on the back, taking care not to hit the wooden neck of my lute, “Utterly ridiculous,” he said, “But you can’t really look any other way, now can you?”

Laughter resounded from the table at his statement and even more as I returned the obscene gesture Stephen had given me last night. I looked away from him and looked at Jakob, “Remember your end of the bet!” I said, grinning, to which he responded, “I won’t have to! Judging from that outfit, you’re dead in the water already.”

Waving him off, I double-checked the pouch at my side which held more than enough money to put myself up for a week, plus food and drink, and teleported myself to Piltover.

The magic began to wobble a little bit as I stepped out in front of a tavern that I had been to a few times, due to the lack of nexus in Piltover, yet I still came out in one piece. I walked down the street with a spring in my step, returning polite waves and smiles and the occasional “Good morning”. My accent clearly labeled me from Bilgewater, yet few minded about the matter. It was one of the reasons I loved Piltover so. The people were always nice, and the trouble was usually caused by foreigners. Caitlyn was more likely than not the primary reason for the order of the town.

I stopped at a fruit vendor and bought an apple, chatting briefly about the current state of things before I walked off, taking a bite of my purchase. As I turned around a corner, I crashed into a man with long black hair and a brown trenchcoat, knocking me off my feet. He stumbled from the crash, yet kept running, his hands holding a black satchel close to his body. As I rose to my feet, I heard a cry of “Stop!” from behind me as I was knocked down again by the stray butt of a hextech rifle.

“Sorry!” she said, for it was indeed a she, as she crouched in front of me and tried to take aim with the long rifle to no avail. She rose from her crouch as I stood up, and continued to chase the thief. It was only after she had run in pursuit of the perpetrator that I realized my goal had just passed me by.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I swore under my breath and slammed a hand into the ground. No more than fifty feet away, the very street rose up to stop the thief dead in his tracks, a six foot tall, three foot wide wall of stone for the thief to slam into. The magic was taxing, yet it was worth it. Caitlyn, unperturbed by the sudden appearance of a stone wall, began cuffing the thief and reading him his rights. I rushed over, my head ringing from the sudden rush of magic, and knelt beside the Sherriff. She attempted to wave me away, “Stand back, citizen,” she said, “This is police business.”

“Keeping the peace is the duty of the Ministry as much as of the local law enforcement,” I said, pulling up my sleeve to reveal my tattoo.

“The wall was your work?” She said, looking at me with those cool blue eyes, wrenching the thief’s other arm behind him to finish cuffing him.

“Aye,” I said, cocking my head as I looked at the criminal, “Excuse me for a moment,” I said, pulling the cuffed man’s sleeve up, revealing a tattoo much like mine, one which read “Jaykoboy”.

“Ah,” was all that escaped my lips before I looked at the sherriff, “He’s a summoner, much like I am, which means he could break free of these chains if he wanted. The only reason he hasn’t done so already is because he’s in pain from smacking into a wall. May I make his arrest a little bit easier on everyone by ensuring that he can’t cast any more spells?”

Her gaze narrowed in suspicion. One could easily assume that she had not needed to deal with summoners as criminals before, so she had every reason to be suspicious. “By all means,” Caitlyn replied cautiously, the shadow cast by the brim of her hat making her appear almost menacing.

With a nod, I grabbed the man by his hair and slammed his forehead into the ground, knocking him out. As Caitlyn looked up at me with a glare that could curdle milk, I waved her off with “I did you a favor. He can’t cast when he’s asleep.” However, expending so much energy had taken its toll on me, and I groaned, slumping against the wall, clutching at my stomach which felt like it was trying to eat me alive.

Leaving the unconscious summoner there, she reached over to me before I waved her off, “It’s fine,” I said, “Just… casting that much magic takes a toll on my body.” She nodded and grabbed the unconscious man by his handcuffs, dragging him along with ease. With some effort, I rose and said, “Excuse me, Caitlyn,” causing her to turn around.

“Yes?”

“Perhaps, after you’re done with the paperwork for that one, you would like to meet at a restaurant not too far from here. It’s called ‘The Dancing Badger’, if you’re up for it.”

She cocked an eyebrow at me and tipped her hat, “For such an upstanding citizen, of course. In a half an hour, perhaps?”

I could barely contain my grin as I tipped my hat in return, “Of course. Just be sure to follow the music,” I told her, tapping the end of my lute that poked over my shoulder, then grimaced inwardly as I realized how much of a tuning the instrument would need.

She returned a grin and said, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” before walking off, dragging an unconscious summoner behind her.

I turned around and smiled as I saw the wall sinking back into the ground before saying, “Looks like Jakob’s got a date with some snake lips.”

I could hear my friends’ laughter all the way from the Ministry of War.


Part 3 should be done tomorrow, and I hope Jaykoboy enjoyed his little cameo. Please leave your kind words below if you have any.


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