SI Invasion STG4: Summoner's Base Camp

The lines of the symbol twitched, then took on a life of their, warping and realigning in an intricate dance that filled the space between them. Soon, the entire cliff face blazed: a wall of orange flame a false sun in the darkness. The surface rippled as a single boot protruded from the rock face, followed by the silhouette of a summoner, her shadow long and dark over the Demacian grounds. Arms clasped behind her back with her face set in a grim line, High Councilor Kiersta Mandrake surveyed the land.

A body dressed in summoner’s robes lay crumpled at her feet, the semblance of a smile on his lips. With a frown and a flick of her wrist, the body of the Portal Keeper erupted in dark blue flames. He would be remembered, but his body and soul could not be captured by the unspeakable evils of the shadow isles. Only when the fires sputtered out around the body, ashes filtering away in the lowland ocean breeze, did she raise her hands toward the portal. The lines of power began to shift once more, spreading outwards to the edges of the crag. As the center clarified, the blaze of light dimmed, revealing a murky image layer by layer.

Half a continent away, the assembled forces of the summoners stood ready. The blaze of orange magic before them slowly coalesced. Finally, a likeness of the High Councilor stood before them, her face almost serene with the concentration of spellweaving. Finally, as the spires of Demacia crystallized in the distance, her eyes snapped open, revealing an uncharacteristic blaze of orange flame through the tinted surface of the portal. A single hand stretched out palm upward, beckoning the leaders through, before Kiersta stepped away from the shimmering surface. To waste the cumulative power of transporting an army though teleportation spells would be absurd. With a single step, the denizens of the Institute of War would find themselves on a rocky tor of Demacia’s outskirts.

Kiersta did not turn as the Crystal Vanguard’s feet clicked eerily against the rock, a muted staccato in the still pre-dawn air. Her gaze lingers over the battlefield, taking in everything she could from the surroundings as her forces began to pour through the portal. In a low voice that only Skarner would hear, she replied with an equally stoic face, “So too could we end your life, Brackern. But you know as well as I that it would not stop your people, any more than killing Cho’gath would destroy the Void, or ending Hecarim would stop the march of the undead. It is not our role to decide who is worthy of existence.”

Finally, she turned toward the Vanguard, an aura of dark blue magic glowing around her. “You had best prepare yourself to join the mind of a human, Skarner. The experience will be quite different from anything you have felt before.” She walked past him without so much as a second glance, her gaze focused tightly on the Chief Artificer’s form. “I’ve counted 93 of Durand’s machines still standing over the city. Please adjust the size of your circle accordingly.” She didn’t envy the old summoner’s task. Even as rudimentary as the summoning circle he would have to produce was, creating a platform for the connection of so many would be trying. She eyed the man critically for a moment. Though he may lean heavily on his cane, the summoner’s power accrued through the years could only continue to grow. Perhaps an opportunity to put his skills to use would even lighten his step. Or perhaps one of his machines would perform the task for him.

She strode away from the gathering throng of summoners that passed through the portal, shaping the spell she would cast. The summoning circle used by the league was but a perversion of the much more powerful rituals designed by the summoners of old. Simplified and confining, it equalized the powers of all those summoned to the fields of justice. But the summoners of Runeterra did not gain their prominence in the world by suppressing power. In a trance-like state, Kiersta began to chant, thin lines of power flowing across the rock face as she slowly spun in an intricate dance. Three distinct slots emerged as the pattern solidified, the fire-like light burning its way into the cliff face.

Relaxing slightly, Kiersta beckoned to Tybresa and her selected attendant. The ritual that we must perform here is the same as you have learned in the institute. Yet once you have linked to a champion, you will join them as a second empowering awareness to their will, rather than a decision maker overruling their actions. Let the simple spells we have allowed you on the fields of justice serve as a guide as you become familiar with the sensation.” Without another word, she took her place in the circle. One of three, yet the power seemed to concentrate around her. This host required orders, and she would have to be the one to provide them.