Freljord is an unforgiving place. A mountainous land covered in snow and ice, it is home to many vicious ice storms. Travel, especially in the winter, can be very dangerous. The elements often claim even those who have spent their entire lives there. Only one storm exceeds the ones found in Freljord: the Gelid Vortex - a swirling, icy maelstrom which circles the northern hemisphere of Runeterra.
However, for as strong as the wind howls, Freljord stands even stronger. With high walls and treacherous waters, the people of the ice castle need not fear the rumble of war drums, and indeed it is easy to ignore the world outside of their caverns. Blizzards keep the strange creatures at bay, and have staved many an attack from other cities - in fact, history shows that Freljord's worst enemy has been its own people. Nonetheless, the skies streaked with colors only found in such a pure land is a sight to behold. Its people too are welcoming to all who have lost their way, as above all, peace is desired throughout the land.
But there are those who wish to disturb such an ideal, bringing back the War of the Three Sisters. The temperamental storms may destroy those weak of heart or mind, but for those with determined fire in their eyes, it can only serve to make them stronger.
Post by Victus Brightblade on Dec 30, 2012 22:15:01 GMT -5
In the Frozen North, Victus stood out in his black plate and his billowing red cloak. He scanned the City of Ice, looking for a tavern. Work was slim in Demacia and taverns often had something for the strong of arm. If nothing else, he would chop firewood.
He walked down the steps into the glacial valley, not paying much mind to some of the undisciplined warriors yell out challenges towards other warriors...or the friendly brawls that screamed of a lack of experience to Victus, but they made up for a lack of skill with ferocity.
Within the Tavern that Victus found, the barbarians sang drunkenly and competed in games of chance or skill.
There was little Graggy, but Victus wasn't here for drink. He was here for work. He scanned the help wanted board to see if something was listed that he could accomplish.
Tryndamere could be found at the edge of the frozen city. He was ready for his frozen training. He would climb the closes mountain to ready himself for battle. He looked forward ahead, he then tapped deep into his soul reaching for the pure rage he need to survive this training. He then started running.
Last Edit: Dec 30, 2012 22:38:31 GMT -5 by abadon64
Post by The Cryophoenix on Jan 3, 2013 21:20:27 GMT -5
December 22, 22 CLE
The very peaks of the Ironspike Mountains change little with the seasons. Columns of clouds march on endlessly far below, dumping their blizzards on hapless tribes of barbarians and yeti alike, but above them, not a flake stirs in the frigid air. Spires of ice and rock stand eternal sentinel over snow-packed slopes, as though time itself had frozen in the cold. "What better place for a timeless being?" A sharp crag of rock protects the roost from the prevailing winds from Piltover, yielding an unobstructed view of the vast northern reaches of the continent. Anivia closes her eyes, feeling at peace once again.
This region had seen little of the magical ravages of the rune wars. The minor damages it had endured were rapidly healed by the Phoenix's repeated presence. Truth be told, her purposes in returning here were entirely personal. Her power blazed about her then relaxed completely, causing no changes to the air around her. She listened to the stillness of the world hearing only the whispering of the icy wind. With her eyes closed to the foreign mountain peaks, she could almost believe she was home once more. Guided by a million memories, she stretches her awareness to the mana of the world.
Her eyes snap open. A single flake of snow is ripped from the mountain behind her. She watches it drift past her vision, spiraling toward the next mountain peak. Its impact is trivial, even meaningless on such a mountain's face, but it dislodges a second flake. Anivia's red eyes blaze through the crystal clear air as the chain reaction occur. Even as the avalanche becomes an unstoppable force, her crystalline body takes to the air. Something was moving and must be stopped before the world is lost.
Anivia spies the Barbarian King as he charges up the Freljordian mountainside. Knowing better than to confront the berserker in the midst of his battle rage, she simply changes the path of her flight. Lighting near the mountain peak, she measures the King's progress: He was certainly not Queen Ashe, but to even call himself the king, he must know the happenings of the world. She allowed herself a slight smirk at the situation. It had been a long time since anyone had sent a runner with news for the Cryophoenix.
Through the haze of bloodlust and rage, you sense that you are being watched. Try hard enough, and you might catch the red glow of a pair of crystalline eyes.
The mountain was harsh and unforgiving the sheer could would freeze any man in a matter of second, but Tryndamere continued his rage giving him the strength he needed. If Freljord ever came under attack he wanted to make sure his body and mind were ready. He ran going higher and higher up the mountain every single flake of snow that would touch his skin would melt instantly from the heat his body was producing. He was close to the peak now. "Almost there." He said to himself as he looked up his goal in sight. One could see the rage flowing off his body. Suddenly as he reached the peak of the mountain he felt a strange stare. He quickly pulled his sword form his back and looked around his rage increasing every second. In the bad visibility he notices a pair of red eye's from above. Tryndamere doesn't know what creatures lurk here so he prepares himself. With his right arm he places his blade behind him, and stares at the creature.
Post by The Cryophoenix on Jan 5, 2013 3:08:21 GMT -5
The man's tenacity was admirable. Always the warm-blooded were rushing to and fro: fighting, killing, plotting and deceiving in their own small worlds as they grasped desperately for a reason for their too-short lives to be remembered. But the Barbarian King had what so many others sought: power. Not just the power of state, afforded to him by the tribes of his people, but power of the mind and body. He pit himself against a fundamental force of nature, overcoming it with nothing but sheer force of will. Ferocious, fearless, fool hearty.
A familiar voice calls from within the clouds, "When you train against the elements of the world, your only possible victory is to escape with your life, King Tryndamere." Anivia takes a few steps forward, her form becoming only slightly more visible against the storm. "Do you not owe it to your people not to risk yourself so needlessly?" She stops some distance from the barbarian. The same rage that burned the cold from Tryndamere's body could cloud his perception, and she knew all too well the shattering bite of his sword. Yet to calm the man down would mean his certain death. She must tread carefully.
The voice was all to familiar, it was a voice he had heard many times in the fields. He hasn't personally talked with Anvia, but he knew that she was a friend of Ashe. "I have learned from my experience that the elements are the best way to train." Tryndamere voice was monstrous and harsh. "I need this training. The times are becoming dangerous, voidlings are breaking out of their prisons. Freljord needs to become stronger... I need to be stronger, or I won't be able to protect my people." His rage burning deep inside his soul. "My Queen doesn't know of this training, but I know she puts Freljord before anything so I must help her. With this training I will become stronger and protect everyone in Freljord."
Post by The Cryophoenix on Jan 5, 2013 19:26:30 GMT -5
Anivia's mind raced. This was no ordinary exercise. Rather, the warrior was training with renewed vigor to protect his people from a renewed threat. If he was to believed, voidlings were threatening lands as far north as Freljord. Could that be what she felt even in the heart of her mountain domain? Had the world's magic decayed so far as to allow the monsters some new trickery? How could the world be changing so fast while the mountains of the north were ignored? She sighed as she came to the same conclusion that coursed through the magic of her being: it was time to embroil herself in the politics of this world's people.
She looked over the Freljordian King once more. The rage in his heart empowered his body, granting him an aura not unlike her fiery kin. It stirred some memory deep within her. "It is the way of your world. Grow stronger, or make way for those who are. You would appear to be the former." She shook her head. Now was certainly not the time or place for a conversation. "Train if you must, but we must speak of this threat eventually. If your time permits it, I will find you in the city."
Tryndamere finally realized he still had his sword out. He quickly placed it on his back where it was before he ran into Anivia. "Fine, we will talk later. Come to my throne room if you wish to discuss things further." Tryndamere turned around and started running back to the city with his training completed.
Post by The Cryophoenix on Jan 6, 2013 4:37:15 GMT -5
Anivia watched the King return down the slopes, always charging headlong with his single-minded dedication to his task. With the threat gone, she was at peace in the swirling mountain air once. She sighed softly to herself. It was not her place to delve into the affairs of the men. Then again, was it her role to duel endlessly to rectify political disputes? Was it her place to guard the mana of an entire world? She may not like it, but on this new world, the rules of her people had no meaning. She launched into the air, easily catching the mountain winds in her wings. She soared above the mountain peak, taking a final moment to savor her new pristine home, then folded her wings and dove toward the city of ice.
Post by The Shadow of War on Jan 9, 2013 16:29:57 GMT -5
Hecarim had finished his buinsess with Ezreal at the Shadow Isles and arrived at the edge of Freljord, he looked over the frozen land with interest. Such a unique land, he had to learn more about it.
He slammed his halberd into the frozen land below him and began to call for his spectral riders as they rose around him. He pointed forward. His ghostly riders would explore the land and it's inhabitants and report back to him. They would continue this until someone followed them to their master, then the Shadow would deal with them.
A Freljordian guard came running into the throne room. "My king the public have spotted ghost riders throughout the city." Tryndamere was sitting in his throne when he heard the news. "What!" Tryndamere stood up slamming his fist on the throne. "Has anyone been injured?" He looked at the informer awaiting his response. "Not from my knowledge my King." Tryndamere started making his way out of the room. "Good, I'll go investigate and you make sure to warn the people to stay safe and to avoid going outdoors for the time being." Tryndamere looked at the one man standing in the room. "Take the barbarian guards outside of this room to assist you."
He arrived at the center of the city looking for a ghost rider.
Post by The Shadow of War on Jan 16, 2013 23:28:35 GMT -5
((No probs.))
A ghost rider would run through the gate of the city. the second it see's the king it would raise its weapons and utter a groan that sounded like the wailing dead. After a few moments it would turn and start making it's way back to Hecarim.
Hecarim would be standing at his same location, the events that occured recently being reported to his by his riders.
A ghost rider would run through the gate of the city. the second it see's the king it would raise its weapons and utter a groan that sounded like the wailing dead. After a few moments it would turn and start making it's way back to Hecarim.
Hecarim would be standing at his same location, the events that occured recently being reported to his by his riders.
Tryndamere saw the ghost rider and immediately pulled out his blade ready for battle. To his surprise the ghost turned around and started running. He placed his sword behind himself and sprinted to keep up with the rider. He had no idea that he was being led to Hecarim. Once he was near the edge of the city he had a strange uneasy feeling. Then he saw him standing there outside the city. He increased his speed so he could reach him sooner. As he got close he stopped running and approached Hecarim with caution, his hand on his back holding his sword. "What are you doing here?"
Post by The Shadow of War on Jan 18, 2013 20:53:26 GMT -5
As the ghost rider approached Hecarim it would promptly disappear at the sight of Tryndamere, the centaur held his deathly gaze at the barbarian as he approached, the Shadow didn't want to ignite a war against the fleshlings by killing the king of Freljord, not yet at least. He decided to see how far this would go, raising his halberd in preparation for aggression
"If you must know mortal, i am scouting your land. Be lucky i sent my riders instead of doing it myself. Otherwise i would have a small mass of souls to bring back to the Shadow Isles."
Welcome to Maelstrom, Original Characters, Summoners and Champions alike. We are a divergent setting roleplay forum for the ever-popular MOBA by Riot, League of Legends. This means we are based in Riot canon, but your characters' actions can have a real, lasting impact on the world. Together, the Maelstrom community endeavors to bring the League of Legends setting and characters to life through collaborative storytelling and meaningful development. We welcome you along for the ride.
Hang out in a citystate, visit the Institute of War, explore the uncharted recesses of Runeterra. Whatever you decide, good luck, have fun and happy writing.
hello new skin yes. gonna work out some kinks but let me know what you guys think. it's not all that flashy but i didn't really like the tabs so the side bar is back. oh and the cbox has also made it's appearance. -rurin.
Maelstrom was created by Swain. Written content is copyrighted to their creators on this site. The skin is created by Wolf and mini-profile template by Kuroya of Gangnam Style. The board and thread remodel is by Kagney and has been heavily edited by Rurin. League of Legends is owned by Riot Games. Maelstrom does not claim ownership to any images used unless stated otherwise.
cbox
Chat box has been removed for the time being. Please contact me at Wyerden@gmail.com, or skype name DearCryophoenix with for any questions or concerns.
