War in a Distant Land (League of Legends/Heroes of Newerth Crossover)

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Trolosaurus

Senior Member

11-21-2012

(Depending on how much attention this gets and what the reception is, I may or may not continue it from this point forward. Right now this is just a test to see how interested people are in this concept. If enough people care I can continue it. If there are future chapters, they will be much longer. Feedback is STRONGLY appreciated).


Prologue: The King and Queen of a Far-off Land

The calm blue waters rippled as uncounted schools of fish swam through it’s wet embrace. Customs Officer Monroe supported his chin on a wooden box full of fish recently caught in one of today’s many hauls. “So boring” he mumbled to himself. Very little happened in the fishing port of Alandar, mostly because the profits from the fishing industry had been gobbled up by neighboring Demacia with their fancier equipment, more wealth, and access to rare and exotic fish. Still the port made a living off of what it could. His eyes scanned the sky, seagulls as usual. “Rats with wings, the lot of em” he thought to himself. Then he looked down at the water. Finned Marrowheads, a common entrée at fancy nobility parties, swam past him. They hadn’t really become popular (or even noticed by most) until Draven had mentioned them back during that League Champion Interview a year back as one of his favorite foods and then pretty soon a whole market for em sprung up. Course, Monroe has been eating em for years. Nobody listens to the commonfolk, you gotta sprinkle fame over something before anyone gives an Ash Rat’s arse. He turned his head upward. A giant iron warship bearing an unknown flag was sailing towards the port. Just as usual, another boat coming in to cash in its haul. The cogs in his head then turned and his eyes shot open.

Giant

Iron

WARSHIP

He was not prepared for this. Never in the history of Alandar had any warships docked, let alone an unknown one. He prayed it was not pirates. As it laid anchor in the bay, he said to himself in his head "Keep calm, just do your job. Maybe they aren't here to brutally kill you". On the side of the ship were the words "Sol's Might". It was written in Valora, which meant they spoke the same language thankfully so communication was possible. It was built like a fortress, you couldn't see inside it. It was a bright green color draped in a golden trim. The flag seemed to be of the head of a white gorilla, staring stern and defiant to all. He was too busy staring at the ship to notice that the passengers had already disembarked. "Excuse me sir" said an unfamiliar voice. He turned around and was greeted by a tall and mighty knight in blue and golden armor. His sword, armor, and shield works of masterpieces. Behind him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen with a beautiful headdress, a magical staff that seemed almost alive, and a noticable lack of clothing. It seemed as if all the seabirds were fluttering around her. Of course, he was too shocked at the moment by the strangers to respond with a fluent sentence. Instead all he did was stammer with his mouth open. "Sir?" said the knight again. Monroe only stared at him. After waiting for the Customs Officer to respond (to no avail) he spoke in a much gentler tone. "I am King Jeraziah and this is my sister, Queen Ophelia. We come from the land of Newerth. By chance can you direct us to your leader?" he said. The Customs Officer snapped out of his shock and blinked a few times. "Leader? Well.... were just a small fishing town. I guess by leader you mean the Institute of War..." he said.

"Institute of War? Is your land plagued by battle?" said Jeraziah as stomped his foot. "I told you sister that this land was scourged by the Hellbourne as well..." he scowled, once again adopting his intimidating tone. Ophelia remained silent. "Oh no. Actually the Institute of War ensures all is kept in check. We haven't had a war in 23 years" said Monroe. Jeraziah stopped. "23 years... can you direct us to this Institute?" asked Jeraziah. "I can help with that" said another voice. From behind approached a Summoner in his trademark cloak that concealed most of his body. He exuded an aura of wisdom and calmness. He pulled back his cloak to reveal an aged and wrinkled face. "I saw this event as I gazed into the future last night. I am a High Summoner of the Institute of War sent by Vessaria Kolminye, and you must be King Jeraziah of the Legion of Man" he said. Jeraziah nodded calmly. "And Queen Ophelia of the Beast Horde I presume?". Ophelia nodded and quickly said "Yes". "Follow me... I can take you to the High Councilors of the Institute, we have much to discuss". The trio walked off discussing private matters, leaving Monroe confused as to what had just transpired. He stared back at the warship and rubbed his eyes to make sure it was really there. It was then that a small army of soldiers marched out of the boat, off the rampart and after the King and Queen with a cry of "Legionnaires Ho!". With battle armor and massive axes they all rivaled Darius in might. Monroe shook his head. "I need a drink" he said as he walked off to the local pub. "A big one".

__________________________________________________ ________________________________________

From behind a crate peeked another new face. Carrying a crossbow and two extremely long daggers, his wear consisted of a mixture of a brown cloak and battle armor. "Like a whisper..." he said. "Once again, Scout remains unseen by the enemy" he said. It was then he noticed the rest of his group had left him behind. "Hey, wait up guys!" he said as he took off after them, almost immediately tripping over a Fiddler Crab. He then picked himself up, said "ow", took off running, and then tripped on a box. "Ow" he said again as he took off running before tripping on a rock. "Consarn this terra-rain!" he said as he got up and sprinted after his comrades, tripping over a fishnet. Hopping up and down he shook his leg as the fishnet proceeded to collect a seagull in its midst which then proceeded to go for his face. With a yelp the seagull pecked at his face until he was forced off the dock and into the ocean. If one listened closely you could hear the seagull laughing at his misfortune. With a groan the Scout clambered a hold onto the side of the dock. "Ah hate nature..." he moaned as a glob of an unpleasant and smelly white substance from above splattered over his face.

(Now I wait for the response...)