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Thin rays of light peeked over the creased horizon, cutting through the night that had shrouded over the unfamiliar landscape. Fiora watched as the harpy's voice cut through the silence of the peaceful morning air, declaring a reckless challenge the thought of which caused a cringe of disgust to run along her spine. Her disdain faded quickly, like dew drops with the rising of the morning sun, when responses came from the distance. A calamity of voices resounded, bringing chaos to where peace had once existed.
From afar, it almost appeared like an advancing army marching through silent fields, organized into picture perfect formation to invade the lush foliage of the terrain with the colors of their homeland. It wasn't hard for her to figure out that looks were deceiving...that the proud demeanor on the faces of the approaching legion were not that of a state's military, but something far worse- Trolls...they have come, snapping at the bait of a careless individual...one who does not realize that his fishing pond is actually a repulsive shark tank.
She closed her eyes, failing to shake the horrid image of the approaching trolls from her mind. Nausea welled up her chest, her throat now feeling constricted as she fought off the urge to vomit. It only took one look for her to realize the inevitable result of this reckless action. This will be a new low for Runeterra...one from which we may never recover.