@Riot: Urgent Questions

First Riot Post
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LordRandomness

Senior Member

04-20-2011

This thread has suddenly made me very interested in you (no, not in that way, but it would be understandable). Whoever you are, you know what people like to read and possess the literary skills to articulate it well. I haven't seen mass manipulation this effective on any forum, ever. So level with me: is this a secret plan to get everyone to support you and then petition to get Nasus nerfed?


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Kioku

Member

04-20-2011

Quote:
Originally Posted by TheRic View Post

1340) If Ezreal was modeled after Indiana Jones (references: Taunt: "You belong in a museum!" Joke: "Noxians ... I hate these guys.") then why the hell is there not an Ezreal Ford skin, dammit!? I want fan-service!
Thats because Ezreal was modeled after Syaoran from Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles. Look it up!


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Karamja Rum

Senior Member

04-20-2011

Ezreal is his own father and banged a clone of his mom whut?


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UprightInfinity

Member

04-20-2011

Best thread on the forum.


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cookingbythebook

Member

04-20-2011

Quote:
Originally Posted by nikasaur View Post
His family owns a vineyard and he's friends with Nasus. See question #19.
this is canon


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Kuyll

Recruiter

04-20-2011

The entire thread NEEDS to be answered by a red.


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Renekton Bot

This user has referred a friend to League of Legends, click for more information

Senior Member

04-20-2011

Hey guys <3 Thank you all for the extremely kind words, and the encouragement, and the baked goods <3

To answer some of your questions, yes, there will be a return to the lighthearted jolliness of the league, I just wanted to go srs-face for a little while (I need the practice; This is probably the fourth thing I've ever actually written) and yes, this is all a deviant plot to get Nasus nerfed. Er, I mean devious.

Also, to keep my promise, have some chapter!




A knock at the door stirred Viscero from his daydreaming.
“Your clothes, young master.” came Bronze’s voice from the other side.
“Come in.” said Viscero.
The door opened and in stepped the butler holding a pile of clothing, and atop it, a pair of boots.
“You can leave them by the... Well, wherever, I guess.
The butler grunted and set the clothes down near Viscero’s old rags.
“Shall I relieve you of these, young master?” he asked, looking hesitant to actually touch the filthy garments.
“Please.”
The butler kneeled to pick up Viscero’s old outfit when his eyes fell upon the sword lying by the bath. He paused, then looked at Viscero. Their gazes met, and Bronze grinned.
“Now this is curious,” he said, “Where does an outsider such as yourself come across something like this?”
“I found it.” replied Viscero, his instincts telling him to grab the sword.
“Oh, I should think not.” said the butler, and before Viscero could react, he snatched up the blade and held it up to catch more of the flickering torchlight.
“I’d like that back, please.” said Viscero.
The butler ignored him, scrutinizing the weapon.
“Where did you ‘find’ this?” he asked, turning it over in his hands.
“...In my father.” replied Viscero. It wasn’t his intention to divulge that secret.
The butler clicked his tongue and grinned again, then looked at Xin out of the corner of his eye. “Ahh yes... Now I see.”
“Give it back.” said Viscero, sorely hoping that he would not have to emerge from the bath and beat down the butler in the nude. To his relief, the butler kneeled and placed the sword down gently on the stone where he had found it.
“Well, this is interesting.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Never you mind.”
Viscero grit his teeth. He hated it when people would do that, be cryptic and then hold off on giving out answers.
“Is there anthing else you needed, young master?”
“You forgot my tea.”



After the butler had left, Viscero emerged from the tub, toweled himself off (with a remarkably fluffy towel), wrapped it around his waist, and examined his new attire. It was almost entirely black, a fact which did not surprise him in the least, and made from material Viscero was certain he would normally never have been able to afford. Silk, he guessed, or some manner of processed cotton. He had little experience with fabrics other than linen and burlap. He tried them on. They were comfortable in a way he never knew clothing could be comfortable, and he ran a hand over his new shirt and revelled in the sensation of the fabric. He looked at his boots. They were serious-business boots, the kind with steel toes and silver buckles. Viscero put them on and he knew then and there that he was a badass. He looked like a badass. He felt like a badass. He had an urge deep within him to run out into the street and kick someone hard in the stomach, just because. The last order of business was to reequip his sword, and just as he fastened it to his waist there came another knock on the door.
“You didn’t drown, I trust?” asked Ardis.
“Yes, I’m afraid.”
The door swung open. “Pity,” said Ardis, “I was beginning to think you weren’t an utter simpleton.” He was wearing a grin that offered only good humor. “I thought I should come and show you to your room. Looking sharp, by the way.”
“Thank-- My room?” Viscero asked, genuinely surprised at the offer.
“Of course. You don’t think I’d have you sleeping out on the street tonight, do you? Hardly. Blackburns take very good care of their friends.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
As Viscero followed Ardis to his room, he began to grow suspicious. Clearly there was something Ardis wanted from him, but the question was ‘what?’ He would go along with it for now, since he couldn’t argue with such posh treatment, and he assumed that eventually Ardis would make his intentions known.
They arrived at the guest chambers, and Ardis guided Viscero to one of the doorways.
“In here,” he said.
By now Viscero was somewhat numb to the shock of witnessing wealth beyond reasoning, and so when he entered the room he was not surprised to find the largest bed he had even seen in his life, nor did he bat an eye at the magnificently tailored curtains framing a massive window that looked out onto the city. He paid no mind to the electrical lamp on the ornate oak nightstand by his bed, and the carpet? Of course it felt like walking on clouds even through his boots, no big deal.
“I bid you a pleasant evening. If there’s anything further you require, you can press that button over there,” said Ardis, gesturing to a button beside the massive bed, “Or you can come find me in the study. It’s... Well, just start walking. You’ll find it eventually.”
“Thank you,” said Viscero, who still had an impressive stockpile of thank yous left.
Ardis smiled, “Of course. Tomorrow morning we can discuss business over breakfast.”
Viscero nodded. There it was. “Business.” He imagined he’d already been conscripted into Ardis’ cadre, and now he was going to learn his function.
That could wait, however. Ardis closed the door to Viscero’s room, and Viscero finally became aware that the bed he saw before him was an object meant to be slept in and not just admired, and then he became aware that if he was not in it shortly then he would be sleeping on the floor.


(part 2 in like, a bunch of minutes or so)


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Fruit Jews

Senior Member

04-20-2011

Neeeed moreeee


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Thebeshian

Senior Member

04-20-2011

Bump for the majestic Interior Crocodile Alligator.


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Renekton Bot

This user has referred a friend to League of Legends, click for more information

Senior Member

04-20-2011

Annnd part 2! Boy that sure was a bunch of minutes, wasn't it?






Viscero awoke the next morning in a state of agony he had never felt before. His muscles burned with the travels and efforts of several months, and for what felt like several hours he could not move his limbs. Eventually he was able to exercise some control over his arms, and slowly, painfully, he climbed out of his bed and stepped down to the floor. He staggered across the room like a newly-animated scarecrow and began to get dressed, but as he kneeled to fasten his boots, he found himself unable to rise from the floor. He crawled to the nearest chair and used it as leverage to pick himself up from the carpet. Awkwardly he made his way to the door and opened to it find Bronze the butler waiting for him. Viscero wondered how long he’d been standing there.
“Good morning, young master. I’m here to direct you to Breakfast.”
Viscero attempted a smile, which was turned to a grimace by the pain racking his body.
“Thanks. After you, then.”
Bronze gave him a strange look, “Right this way.”
Viscero was happy to have a guide through the manor. Had he tried to navigate it himself he would almost certainly have ended up lost, wandering hallways for the rest of his years. After a brief journey, with Viscero hobbling to keep up, they arrived and Bronze announced Viscero’s presence to the room.
Ardis was seated at a round oak dining table ringed with chairs, attacking a breakfast of eggs and toast.
“Ah, Viscero.” he said after swallowing a mouthful of egg, “I trust you slept well?”
Viscero nodded slowly.
“Are you certain?” he asked, cocking his head, “You look like you’re in pain.”
“Yes.” he agreed, “I really, really am.”
“Ah, well you know what my father always says.” said Ardis. Viscero didn’t, but he listened anyway. “Pain is just weakness leaving the body. And then he usually says something about how the truly strong have never felt pain to begin with, and that I should stop whining. Great man, my father.” he nodded sagely and consumed another piece of toast. “Please, have a seat. Bronzey, stop gawking and get Viscero his breakfast.”
Viscero sat slowly and settled into the chair. It was nice to not have to stand or walk anymore.
“So, how are you enjoying yourself?” Ardis asked him.
“Very well, thank you. I appreciate your hospitality.”
“My pleasure! We Blackburns are renowned for it. We, unlike the other families, welcome outsiders who show promise.”
“What sort of promise?” asked Viscero. He knew, of course.
“Strength. Skill. Qualities all Noxians respect and admire, but, if I may be so bold, are contradicted by the fact that you’re an outsider.”
Viscero was distracted briefly when Bronze slid a plate of food in front of him, and it was only then that he discovered just how hungry he was.
Ardis smiled, “Help yourself to as much as you’d like.” and he turned his attention on his own breakfast, knowing that he wouldn’t have the starving Viscero’s full attention until the young man had finished.
Viscero tried very hard to be mindful that he was in noble company, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from destroying his breakfast like a starving traveller who had walked halfway across the continent without ever once having a satisfactory meal. Viscero cleaned his plate, and then his second, and then his third.
“You probably shouldn’t eat so fast,” said Ardis, but Viscero could already tell he’d made a mistake. Fortunately for him, he was able to keep his breakfast down, but made a mental note that he should probably never eat so much after being so hungry for so long.
“Are you alright?” Ardis asked, and Viscero nodded.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Not bad. I’ve seen people throw up from doing that.”
Viscero wished he hadn’t mentioned throwing up. “So what was that I heard last night? About business?”
Ardis sat back in his chair and smiled, “Ah, yes. Well, before we discuss that, I’d like to ask you something. Why did you come to Noxus?”
Viscero hesitated. He hadn’t anticipated a question like that. What could he say? That he was here to avenge his father? That he’d come to kill someone who was likely part of the Noxian High Command? Why else would people come to Noxus?
“I assume,” continued Ardis, “That you’re here for the same reason anyone is here. Because you, like the rest of the people within the inner ring, appreciate the power you have and want more of it. Correct?”
“Uhm, yes. That’s it.”
“Exactly. Well, you and I are no different. I too wish for something greater than this, and working together I believe we can both get what we want.”
Viscero thought about this. How much “greater” was Ardis looking for? It seemed from where Ardis stood in the Noxian heirarchy, the next step up was ruling the city itself.
“So you want me to join your group, right? Would that make me one of your followers?”
“A follower? Hardly. My organization is much more of a... a syndicate of friends, if you will. None of us are really the “leader” of the group, although I do provide us with direction and motivation on many occasions. In the end, we’re all after the same thing, and in a city as vicious as this one, friends are the most valuable commodity of all. My father has a phrase, something about scratching people’s backs. I don’t remember the words exactly but it’s about cooperation. So, what do you say? I don’t wish to pressure you into feeling obligated to join, I’m merely extending an offer, the alternative to which is extremely undesirable. Ah, I’m sorry, that came out like a threat. Really, there’s nothing forcing you to join.”
“Sounds like I’d be crazy not to accept.”
Ardis’ expression brightened, “So, you’re in, then? I’ll warn you now that you may be required to hurt people, but know that these people would hurt you first, given the chance.”
Viscero thought about it. Somehow, the idea of hurting people didn’t bother him as much as he felt it should. But then again, it was Noxus.
“I’m in.”
Ardis extended his hand, and Viscero shook it.
“Welcome aboard, Viscero.”