It's Not the Wind ((Open))

Patrolling the borders was perhaps the most degrading of all assignments for a soldier. What was the point of patrolling atop walls surrounded by Noxian territory as far as the eye could see? There was nothing to do beyond shooing off the occasional halfbreed or worse that happened to come knocking on their gates. As if their kind had any audience within the inner walls.

Defending Noxus was not as beautiful a concept as it sounded. Noxus was glorious. Strong. Defending her against invaders? Noxus did the invading.

Four lightly armoured sentries conversed atop one of the numerous turrets towering amongst the Noxian walls. The atmosphere was light, alcohol passed about liberally in the warmth and grow of the heavy torches latched onto the surface.

"You did what? No way."

One of the masked soldiers seemed to be gloating about one thing or another, the other three seemingly impressed at his accomplishment.

"I don't believe it. The Cassiopeia? How does that even work?"

The former soldier laughed as he leaned in closer.

"Pay for my next round and I'll explain; what are you? A Yordle? My God."

The others nodded in agreement; the former man standing up as if to begin when the entire right side of his body was torn away; ripped asunder by a glimmering red bolt.

The others hung back for a moment, not having realized what had just happened until another one of them too, screamed in agony. A cry that silenced quickly as another shot all but peeled away his windpipe. The remaining two ran to the heavy stack of wood, another meeting his end as one of the crimson bolts severed the thin rope that held the pan of oil above the heavy logs.

The last man, arrived at one of the numerous torches , removing it from its holster just as another arrow tore through his form. Broken, he fell forward, the torch falling just barely close enough to ignite the pile; a monstrous orange illumination bursting into the night sky as another joined it in the distance- then another.


Noxus had been roused.


Bells rang as the Noxian reserve were woken up from their slumber, those who were already up rushing to the walls to defend against the yet unseen threat. Archers peered into the distance; finding only darkness- a few firing blindly into where they swore they had seen movement. Another scream in the dark, soldiers falling off the ramparts as they searched for the invading army in a rather fruitless endeavour. A few of the armoured men were shoved aside as an aged man in a robe stepped forward with a growl. An eerie green light danced between his fingertips; one that seemed to sizzle, yellow sparks dancing from the gathering energy as the magister raised his hand. His pendant shattered as he released the magic- firing the glowing orb into the night sky just as he, too, met his end to the red barrage. Noxian soldiers quickly threw the lifeless corpse over the edge of the wall to make more room- closing the gap previously occupied by the elderly man with shields and armor.

The globe of magic flew through the air with a high pitched whirr; a sound that didn't quite seem to match with the orb itself as several others joined it soon after. The radiant sphere paused as it reached a hectometer away from the towering walls; others joining it as the magic pulsed- exploding in a radiant display. Green and Yellow shards fell towards the land; slowing their descent as they fell. The wave of light slowly descended, lighting the moat and the parts of Noxus closest to the river of filth.

Armoured units gathered at the various entrances into Noxus as the heavy gates began churning.

Pikes and shields formed a temporary wall behind the heavy iron gates; the heavy material slowly coming together- intending to shut the intruders out from parts of Noxus that actually mattered.

More and more soldiers gathered behind the ephemeral wall; archers rushing to their posts as they waited for the beams of light to reach the ground and light their mark.

A few cloaked and hooded figures gathered behind the procession. If there was an army they would have seen it by now. These were the hunters; those that would stalk the invaders and eliminate them.

More lights adorned the mountain as superiors questioned their messengers of the situation; the local populace securing their homes as the march of steel shook the roads.

The corruption devouring the ranged projectiles went largely unnoticed by the rank and file archers that had already responded to the rousing call- merely continuing their relentless barrage. The arrows, almost invisible against the night sky, were joined soon by their sisters fired from beyond the walls- aiming at unseen targets merely by following the other's trajectories. The Noxians stood their ground despite their casualties, driven predominantly not by bravery, but a mixture of loyalty to Noxus and an overwhelming sense of fear of their commanding officers.

The shields were lifted from the ground; raised up to chest height as the Noxian column marched forward to intercept the intruder. A march that never quite took off as a dark purple tendril; writhing and of the constitution of an intensely burning flame snaked towards the advancing armour. The first wave never even had a chance to react as the corruption bound the center soldier; tendrils snaking through his armor- binding him to the ground before immediately penetrating into the troops besides him. Screams echoed in the night sky as the command was given to scatter. The backlines barely evaded the invasive corruption as nearly the entire platoon was rooted in place; their writhing forms suppressed by the archer's wrath. The seemingly sentient tendrils danced, whipping and lashing themselves towards any who dared to approach their kin.

A Noxian battlemage platoon drew closer, stopping on an elevated ridge and glancing down towards the carnage below. Two of the previous hunters appeared besides what seemed like the platoon leader. The hooded figures bowed in sync as they briefed the officer on the current situation. The remaining armoured units formed an arc behind their tainted comrades, visibly shaken by the current turn of events. The battlemages, clad in the Green and Gold of Noxus, spread out in a line on the plateau- each maintaining distance between each other as to counter the tendril's reach; data garnered from the sacrifice of the numerous Noxians that had already fallen. Each one of the Noxian casters raised their hands into the air; the familiar yellow and green magics dancing from hand to hand as they readied a more direct assault.

Varus would not be given the chance to strike. The column of contaminated soldiers found themselves surrounded by an orange glow, followed almost immediately by the descent of a brilliant viridian inferno. Their screams of agony were silenced, leaving being only burnt skeletons; still somehow ignited by a much weaker undying amber flame.

The rank and file defenders of Noxus were signaled to pull away; forming a perimeter with reinforcements that had only then reached the scene. The battlemages advanced in a staggered echelon formation; carefully maintaining distance as supporting casters remained on the ridge- their magical energies taking form with a much healthier shade of orange. Brilliant yellow sparkles marked the intended recipients of their shielding magics. The advancing warriors drew their partisans; each pointed tip glimmering with bolts of erratic energy. Their march suddenly stopped as they lowered their weapons, as if waiting for the invader's next move.

Sivir wasn't usually the one for peaceful solutions, in fact, Sivir personally did not care what happened to Ionia.. the only reason she advised against it in the first place was because she foresaw a long and bloody stalemate.. and she was right. But having Varus kill all her source of work? Not good for business.. "Not all these soldiers were at Ionia" Sivir replied "Do they deserve a death simply because they reside in Noxus?" Sivir halted her advance, and stared sternly back at Varus. "I think not."

Sivir paused for a moment "Besides, you are but one man. You cannot possibly bring an entire nation to it's knees." Sivir had seen countless pain in her life.. but she could not help but feel.. sorry, for Varus. This man, truly, had nothing left to lose. "Just stand down.. and we can all walk away from this" Sivir said again, her blue eyes locked on his corrupted ones.

Sivir watched Varus, her blue eyes studying the corruption as it writhed over his body.. such a burden to carry. Sivir was about to continue speaking, but she two was silenced as she recognized Swains Nevermove. The talons reached out and grasped Varus, holding him tight.. Sivir thought Swain would simply morph and kill the man.. but obviously he couldn't.

Sivir watched Swain spit hate into Varus's face, her eyes flickering between the two. Though, she made no move to stop the guards that brought the chain, she did speak. "Let me guard him" she suggested. "Not even your own personal men should be trusted with a champion, Jericho. And you are far to busy to do it yourself" Sivir stabbed her cross blade into the ground and folded her arms "Let me take care of it"

Swain turned his blazing eyes upon the Battlemistress. He was silent for a moment, appraising her, before he spoke decidedly. "No. You'll accompany me to the Institute of War first thing tomorrow morning... where we will address the League's obvious ineptitude." The malice in the general's words hung in the air. He shot a caustic glare at Varus, sinking his cane into the mud before him as the Raedsel bound the archer's hands and feet in weighted shackles. These magical bindings adhered to Varus' corrupted flesh, fastened themselves with the keyless seal of an onyx rose, cut into his wrists and ankles.

"Mark my words, Noxus will prevail, with or without the League's guardianship." Red eyes flashed in the dark, two burning embers of ambition. The Raedsel seized the now-bound Varus and Swain's earthwrought talons began to fall away, to retreat into the mud.