Much Ado About the League - A Tale as Mad as a Hatter

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Balrogix

Senior Member

12-19-2010

I'm in your greatest debt!!
*__*


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CaddyMyers

Member

12-19-2010

Chapter 6 is currently now my most favorite installment. You caught me completely off-guard with Gangplank's song. :-D

+ 1 for you.


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Oskay

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Senior Member

12-20-2010

Glad that you like. It's one of my favourite sections, too, but then again I could say that for every single chapter. Nevertheless, this one was the longest with an entire 4 pages, so I could say that I like it for no better reason then having spent the most time on it.


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Oskay

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Senior Member

12-20-2010

To the first follower of this tale, my dear friend Balrogix. Enjoy.

Chapter 7

“So, uh, that was your house back there?” Warwick was walking in the middle, Rammus flanking his left and Shen his right. For the third time this minute, he got the feeling that he was more of a prisoner than a friend to the two.

“Did that look like my house?” Shen asked, briefly turning to face the wolf.

“Well, you know, no ones ever been to your house, so I thought...”

“So you thought, 'Why don't I keep quiet for a minute.' How very thoughtful and considerate of you.”

Warwick pretended to examine the ground. His newest attempt at starting a conversation had been ruthlessly butchered by the Eye of Twilight. “You guys always this cheery?” he grumbled.

“You always this talkative?” Shen replied. “Because I could do something about that.”

The Blood Hunter pressed his lips together. At least they could tell me where we're going. They had been walking for over an hour now, and Warwick was starting to doubt that they knew where they were heading. Stuffing the last piece of gingerbread into his mouth, he dared make another comment. “Pfmms, mmeen, diss shudufz eerrie klayt. Yynyo uor poughd, eff gdda ahhnd yeh ahd.” Which is mouth-full speech for “Rammus, my man, this stuff's great. You know your food, I've got to hand you that”.

“Yeah,” agreed the Armordillo.

“Almost tastes like Morgana's. But not as spicy. Less cinnamon than she uses, but more butter. Tasty...”

“And how would you know?” Shen interrupted. Not that he was actually interested in the topic, but asking a question after a statement preserved the balance.

Warwick silently pointed to his mouth.

“Interesting,” observed the ninja. “Looks like it has more uses than annoying others.” He might have smiled that moment, but it was impossible to tell what was going on beneath his mask. For all we know, he could have a disfigured, drooling, spitting mouth that is positioned right under a wart-covered, crooked nose, with a cross-eyed gaze and humongous eyebrows that disappear in his dandruff-covered hair to complement the sight.

Warwick chose to disregard the insult. “Ok, you two ever heard the joke about the wolf that had a toothache?” He looked around expectantly, but when no one answered he revealed the punchline: “I haven't, but I sure wouldn't want to go near one!”

“Hmm.” Rammus made sure his articulation of the word was perfect.

“Alright, alright, I got a better one: what did one wolf say to another at the party? 'Are you having a howling good time too?'” He guffawed at his own joke, but got no reaction from his companions. “Come on, you two ain't going to laugh?”

“Maybe if you start chasing your own tail, I will,” Shen said dryly.

Warwick abruptly stopped walking, but not because he was upset by the remark. “I smell something,” he cautioned.

“Yeah,” Rammus supported the wolf. Their animal instincts had sensed danger lurking nearby. They stared at the brush in front of them.

Without warning, a strong current of wind hit the trio, followed closely by a tall, intimidating figure. Warwick was fixated on the armour, and did not notice the iron glove until it made painful contact with his stomach.

***

“WHAAAAT?! THIS REALLY BURNS MY BISCUITS!”

“I thought only men were supposed to say that...” Pantheon mumbled. He had just returned to the bakery along with Morgana, only to find that somebody had broken in and taken all the gingerbread. And what amazing gingerbread it was; they had worked all night to prepare it. He wholeheartedly shared the Fallen Baker's feelings, but one of them had to be the voice of reason.

“I'LL HAVE MY REVENGE!” screamed Morgana. Pantheon was happy Heimerdinger had installed the noise-cancelling technology in his helmet, otherwise there was a good chance he'd have been deaf by now.

“They have disgraced the art of baking, yes, but why don't you settle down a bit,” he suggested. Shouted was more like it, but compared to Morgana's verbal rampage, his was a mere whisper.

As quickly as the anger had taken over Morgana's judgement, it ebbed away again. Left in its stead was sorrow and despair. She sobbed loudly, tears flowing out of her eyes. “Will you share my torment?” she requested of her friend, as the salty fluid made short work of her eye liner.

“It would be an honour.” Pantheon patted her awkwardly on the head, unsure of how to act in a situation like this. He would have rather had a brawl with Baron Nashor than try to comfort a woman. Lady, he corrected himself, remembering Cho'gath's instructions.

He was taken off-guard when the Fallen Angel gave him a hug. Now I wish I was Taric, he thought, which no man would ever do under normal circumstances. He was still patting her head, and to his distress Morgana seemed to be in no hurry to let go.

“About the gingerbread...” Pantheon began in an attempt to distract her. The result was effective, albeit not what he had aimed for.

“THEY WILL SUFFER!” Morgana's scream bounced off the walls, making an echo that sounded like the wailing of lost souls on a stormy night.

“Well, we do not know who it was,” Pantheon pointed out, now channelling his efforts to calm her back down.

“Nunu.” Morgana spoke the name softly, menacingly, turning towards the entrance. The little boy with the red coat, who was standing in the doorway, smiled innocently and pointed at the yeti next to him. The yeti made a low growling sound, but if he would have had the ability to speak, he would have been likely to say the following:

“A lot of the fun lies in trying to penetrate the mystery; and this is best done by pointing to yourself – and not your peers – again and again, till this act of pointing passes through the stage of appearing to be nonsense, and finally returns to a full sense that had at first been out of reach.” Whatever that would mean.

“DON'T GIVE ME THAT GUILTLESS FACE!” shrieked Morgana. “NEITHER OF YOU!”

Pantheon, an Artisan of War and Miserable Failure at Interpersonal Communication, shook his head and sighed. Perhaps a bit too loudly, for the Fallen Angel returned to a state of confused emotions.

“Nobody understands me,” she cried. “Not my parents, and especially not my sister. The only peace I find is in my bakery, yet they are taking even that from me.”

“I understand,” Pantheon comforted her. “My profession... you know, I've always wanted to be a baker.” The yeti let out a snicker. “Yes, a baker! Do not provoke me, you unintelligent beast.”

The yeti made another unintelligible sound, that should have come out as: “Man has always assumed that he was more intelligent than yetis because he had achieved so much – the wheel, the League, Rune Wars and so on – while all the yetis had ever done was roll around in the snow having a good time, and once in a while spank humans who crossed into their territory. But conversely, the yetis had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man – for precisely the same reason. As you can see, practical politics consists of ignoring facts, and the amount of ignorance accumulated in the form of facts through education makes the human species all the more limited in perspective."

“I knew that I could rely on you,” breathed Morgana into Pantheon's ear, oblivious to the philosophical musings of the yeti.

“My spear is restless!” declared the Artisan, because that was the first sentence that popped into his mind. Too late did he realise how wrong that came out, and silently lamented the shortness of his plate-skirt. “Look at that.” he pointed at a trail of crumbs on the floor in order to change the subject of discussion.

“We'll bring them pain,” hissed the Fallen Angel, her mood changed again. “Don't you dare dally and slow me down.”

A phew escaped Pantheon's mouth. At that moment, he could not imagine anything worse than travelling with a bipolar ex-saint.

***

Urgot and Sion were wandering aimlessly through the forest. What had started as a simple plan to loot one of the wraith camps, had transformed into an odyssey. If they had something akin to a trojan horse, they could have performed the entire Iliad.

“I detect the presence of useless scum,” Urgot said, ironically trying to pierce his fellow champion with a cryptic gaze.

“Where?” asked Sion ignorantly. Urgot's techmaturgical voice box let out a chain of degrading insults, all aimed at the Undead Champion's (lack of) brain. He was so devoted to this, that he failed to notice the large sign in the middle of their path. The sound made by his head colliding with the board did not really promise him a full head either.

“Nexus: left,” read Sion. “I found the right way,” he called out to his partner.

“Destination received!” answered the Headman's Pride as he entered the route into his internal GPS. “Cannot rest until we get there.” They moved on, three pairs of legs scuttled over the uneven earth.

Someone let out a low chuckle, just outside their range of hearing. “March, march, march, march!” came the chant, as a fourth pair of feet was set into motion.


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D4RK1LL1D4N

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Junior Member

01-01-2011

Will you continue with this story?? I think its great :P


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Balrogix

Senior Member

01-01-2011

Excellent use of the Champion's default speech.
+1


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DomeXscs

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Senior Member

01-01-2011

I really like


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Oskay

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Senior Member

01-07-2011

Quote:
Will you continue with this story?? I think its great :P
Soon. I'm having a major block, and I was busy working on a champion suggestion. I probably won't have the next chapter done until next week, though.

Quote:
Excellent use of the Champion's default speech.
+1
Glad you liked it. At first I was worried that it wouldn't live up to your expectations, because I rushed it a bit. Honestly, I'm still not 100% happy with it myself, so I think the next installation featuring Morgana and Company will be a long one. Like the Pirate special; the longer, the more I can develop characters. But that won't be for at least another 2 chapters, because I will be revisiting some of the original champions first.


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Pasty Muffin

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Member

01-07-2011

love your story...

so is taric gay then?


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Oskay

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Senior Member

01-10-2011

Quote:
so is taric gay then?
That, my friend, shall be revealed when the time is right.



















































Yes. Yes he is.


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