The Voyage

Sivir narrowed her eyes at the void creatures, letting out a battle cry as she took her cross blade and charged head on into them, slicing at them with her massive blade.

Derrick was over Jon in an instant, his hands moving in the intricate arcane patterns of a practiced summoner, blasting the voidlings from the body of his prone comrade. They were not particularly strong, but their claws were like scythes, leaving one of Jon's arms severely mangled. After clearing the swarm, Derrick offered Jon a hand, breathing, "Get up."

At the onslaught, Vera threw up an instinctive protective shield of magic between the champions still standing on the dune and the approaching horde. She watched as most of the creatures fell easily to blades, bullets, a spear and a lamp post. A sigh of relief washed over her as the last of them were dispelled. But these were only the larvae.

A second wave approached, myriad, screeching terror so loudly that the earth shook sand from the dunes. One of them leapt upon Jax's head, slicing and slashing with its front legs, trying to sink its dripping teeth into his face.

Teemo, being a practiced scout and a lover for the wild things, had little difficulty coaxing the yak away from the onslaught. He brought it down the dune and back towards the road where the forest began again. Once at the road's end, he pulls out the stake and pins down the reins next to a small pool of water. There should be enough greenery and water, as well as length of leather for the yak to survive on it's own for the time being. With a content huff, the scout turns and makes his way swiftly back to his comrades.

"No problem," Jon replied, nodding as he saw Jax get back into the fight. He returned back to engaging the voidlings, shooting at any that got too close. His Options returned to hovering nearby him, mimicking his shooting and providing covering fire whenever he needed to reload.

Anivia took to the air at Teemo's command. A small wave of voidlings had already fallen upon the group, but she could do little to help them. With a flap of her wings, she began focusing her power on the open dunes between the city and champions. A cold wind sprung up on the dunes, and for the first time in centuries, snow began to form in the air. As the multitude continued to swarm through the swath of desert, their carapaced bodies slowed to a crawl, freezing solid under an onslaught of swirling ice. The gambit might not last long, but it would buy her companions time to regroup.

"When Demacians march forth, ridding Valoran of the evils of selfishness and greed under the pristine banner of justice, we know who we are and what we fight for, unapologetically." The voice of the Master-At-Arms at the Demacian Training Grounds boomed out, quoting The Measured Tread.

"Remember young Prince, it is the highest glory one can attain when you take arms against those who would seek to spread the world in corruption and vitriol. As you know, we are the careful sentinels, watching this world and taking measures to keep it strong and just. Death is inevitable; One can only avoid defeat."

The skittering forms of the voidlings were scampering everywhere, all moving as if they were the same creature. Their movements were both mesmerizing and terrifying as they kicked up the sand with their frenetic roiling movements, descending upon the party of fighters. The Prince watched, detached, still as stone as if this weren't happening to him and instead to another person.

"My son. You will lead our country to glory as both I and my father before me have. You are the shining star that will lead Demacia to its highest peak. You are the pinnacle of our city-state's ideology, bred for this." His Father's voice entered the Prince's mind, more memories flooding his vision again. "Do not worry. You are strong. You must be. Now move. MOVE. WAKE UP. GO."


The Prince jerked up, as if waking from a nightmare, watching the scene around him unfold. Snarling he began to impale whatever small voidlings he could find, skewering them with precision and finality. Watching the snow fall from the sky he frowned in confusion. "Am I still..." he started to speak, before noticing the cryophoenix's form in the sky. "Dreaming." He finished, assessing the scene. There were clearly wounded, but Anivia had given them a moment of reprieve.