Post by Deleted on Jan 22, 2013 16:35:22 GMT -5
((This is part of Shaco's backstory with Fiddlesticks, and all takes place five years from the current setting of Runeterra. If anyone has any objections to this, (especially Fiddlesticks, since he is a main part of this) please let me know and I will try to fix it, or make this story non-canon. However, I'm trying to implement this into Shaco's character, so I would like and try to make it as polished as possible))
The fine mist of the midnight rain was illuminated by the streetlights of Zaun. Each light appeared to be a beacon, expelling the darkness away from Zaun's main roads. An eerie silence had settled over the city, and few things besides the pitter patter of the rain on the cobblestone streets could be heard. However, there was a clearly noticeable sound that echoed throughout the alleyways of the city.
Splish...Splosh...Splish...Splosh The sound of feet was audible. They seemed to be moving at a relatively slow pace, while stepping into the small puddles that had accumulated on the streets of Zaun. The Jester keenly listened to these footsteps, while perched on a nearby lamppost. He had just finished some business with a fellow colleague of his that was living in Zaun.
Shaco's business, however, meant murder. And his so called "colleague" was dead by his hand. No, The Jester hadn't stabbed him. He'd gotten too bored of that. He had made his "colleague's" death quite exciting. He had poisoned his wine, which caused him to drop dead. However, this was no ordinary poison.
It had been titled "Laughing Poison" at the shady merchant where Shaco had purchased it minutes before. It caused the victim to laugh away their last thirty seconds of life, then promptly collapse. It had worked, and to anyone who was listening in, it would have sounded like two ordinary men laughing together.Shaco smiled at the thought of this recent feat. He turned his attention back to the sound of the footsteps.
Splish..Splosh..Splish..Splosh Whoever this person was, they seemed to have quickened their pace. Only slightly, however, as if they had realized they were being followed, but not enough to break into an outright run. Shaco could hear the footsteps approach closer to his location, and their pace quickened.
Spilsh.Splosh.Splish.Splosh They weren't running. No, not just yet. They had definitely known that they were being watched, but they had started to walk faster, or maybe into a slow jog. The footsteps were even closer now. Shaco looked behind him, but still couldn't see anyone.
SplishSploshSplishSplosh The victim was running now. They had seen their pursuer start to chase, and they followed suit. At this point, the pursuer should have already had them by now, they were just trying to close the gap. The footsteps were almost an alley away from Shaco. As he turned around, he heard a scream.
A woman's body fell to the ground on the main road. Her eyes were still open wide in fear. There were two giant slash marks running down her body, and she had already been killed. Blood gushed out of the wounds, mixing with the rainwater collected around her body. Shaco looked down the alley she came from. At first, it didn't look like anything. But slowly, Shaco began to see something down that dark path.
Two jade eyes, staring straight in his direction.
Shaco stared straight into that ominous pair of jade eyes. The eyes were still staring back at him, but they inched ever so slowly towards the main street. The Jester pulled out his shivs, and hopped down onto the street, making sure not to slip on the wet surface.
"I see I have a visitor." Shaco stated, his glance never changing. The pair of eyes blinked once, then narrowed. "Would you do the honor of introducing yourself?" Shaco asked, extending his hand forward. "I am Shaco, official Demon Jester of Valoran." As the Jester bowed towards the eyes, the rest of his figure came into view.
A towering scarecrow, made completely from straw, stepped out of the alley, becoming visible to the Jester. The scarecrow had a paper bag as a head, with a unsatisfactorily fashioned hole for a mouth. In both of his hands, he held a vicious looking scythe. He looked just like an ordinary scarecrow.
Except he was alive.
This didn't phase Shaco one bit. During his time in Valoran, he had seen many strange beings and people. A living scarecrow was no exception. However, something seemed...unordinary. Behind those jade eyes was something Shaco could have never seen coming. However, at the time, the Jester didn't take things too seriously.
"Jester." The being spoke, looking down at Shaco. His voice was rather dry, a testament to the material he was made out of. Close up, those jade eyes looked terrifying. However, Shaco still didn't take his situation with the correct caution.
"Do you know where you came from?" The being asked, his jagged smile shaping into what resembled a grin. Shaco was about to answer, but paused. Shaco had been in Valoran for as long as he remembered. Although, now that this scarecrow mentioned it, he didn't know where he came from.
"No...I don't recall." Shaco replied, his tone becoming a lot less amused. The scarecrow grinned as much as the poorly fashioned mouth allowed him to. "We'll, why don't I enlighten you?" The scarecrow held his scythe up high into the air.
"What are you doing?" Shaco asked, his tone becoming more urgent. The being turned towards him. "Those who say they have nothing to fear..." he began.
"Well, they have not felt the crows..."
At first, Shaco scoffed at the scarecrow's statement. Crows were just pesky scavengers, and nothing more. They cold barely hurt a minion, much less a fully fledged Demon Jester. He was about to make a mocking comment back to the scarecrow, but then he saw them.
Crows. Thousands upon thousands of the black birds flooded the night sky, blotting out the moonlight. Shaco had rarely seen any crows, and they were never in such giant flocks. The crows began to descended towards the alleyway. As they dove closer however, they appeared to be swooping in Shaco's direction. "What...are they doing?" Shaco asked, his tone growing more urgent. "Why, they are simply seeking out their prey." The scarecrow cackled. As the first wave of crows swarmed around Shaco, he slowly fell unconscious.
However, Shaco appeared to be dreaming. His mind transmitted images into his subconscious. A desert. Most likely Shurima. There was a lone figure on the horizon of the unchanging sand dunes. This figure was wearing a turban to shield from the relentless desert sun. He was wearing a green vest over a white tunic, and had bland brown boots. As Shaco's mind zoomed closer to the figure, his features came into view. He wasa a human, with tan skin, blue eyes, and a grin stretching from ear to ear.
Do you know who that is, Jester? The scarecrow's dry voice interrupted Shaco's dream, echoing inside his mind. Shaco was unsure how to reply. Um, no I don't... Shaco thought to himself, assuming that would work. After a long pause, Shaco heard the cackle once again.
That, my dear Jester...that is you.
If Shaco wasn't dreaming, and if he were actually witnessing this in real life, his jaw would have dropped. The nomad that was being shown to Shaco looked nothing like him. Sure, he looked somewhat like a jester, but nothing like that of Shaco's appearance.
I refuse to accept this...That isn't me... Shaco thought, still trying to get over the fact of that man...being him. It just wasn't possible. Believe all you want, Jester. These next few images will confirm your obvious suspicions. The cackling of the scarecrow bounced off the walls of Shaco's mind, taunting him and making this dream so much more worrisome.
The man (Shaco didn't want to call that man himself just yet.) traveled for a long time. After a while, he began speaking to himself, making his motives clear to Shaco.
"Malzahar...I have to find you..." The man wheezed, the dehydration of the desert taking its toll on him. Shaco realized that if this truly was him, these events must have taken place awhile ago. After all, the Malzahar Shaco knew was a seer from the void, not an ordinary man like...this nomad. Shaco still refused to believe that was him.
After many long hours of traveling, the nomad was at his breaking point. He had clearly not been well prepared for his trip, as he had run out of water a few hours earlier. The nomad dizzily stumbled across the numerous dunes of Shurima. Suddenly, his foot caught on something hard.
The nomad frowned. He began shoving the sand off of the area he had hit with his foot. After some digging, he uncovered a strange colored stone with unrecognizable symbols and words scrawled across it.
Shaco realized where the nomad had arrived before the change occurred. As if on queue, the desert sand parted ways to reveal an ancient ruin. Terrible images were engraved on the stones, and the nomad was horrified.
He had found Icathia.
Chapter 1
The fine mist of the midnight rain was illuminated by the streetlights of Zaun. Each light appeared to be a beacon, expelling the darkness away from Zaun's main roads. An eerie silence had settled over the city, and few things besides the pitter patter of the rain on the cobblestone streets could be heard. However, there was a clearly noticeable sound that echoed throughout the alleyways of the city.
Splish...Splosh...Splish...Splosh The sound of feet was audible. They seemed to be moving at a relatively slow pace, while stepping into the small puddles that had accumulated on the streets of Zaun. The Jester keenly listened to these footsteps, while perched on a nearby lamppost. He had just finished some business with a fellow colleague of his that was living in Zaun.
Shaco's business, however, meant murder. And his so called "colleague" was dead by his hand. No, The Jester hadn't stabbed him. He'd gotten too bored of that. He had made his "colleague's" death quite exciting. He had poisoned his wine, which caused him to drop dead. However, this was no ordinary poison.
It had been titled "Laughing Poison" at the shady merchant where Shaco had purchased it minutes before. It caused the victim to laugh away their last thirty seconds of life, then promptly collapse. It had worked, and to anyone who was listening in, it would have sounded like two ordinary men laughing together.Shaco smiled at the thought of this recent feat. He turned his attention back to the sound of the footsteps.
Splish..Splosh..Splish..Splosh Whoever this person was, they seemed to have quickened their pace. Only slightly, however, as if they had realized they were being followed, but not enough to break into an outright run. Shaco could hear the footsteps approach closer to his location, and their pace quickened.
Spilsh.Splosh.Splish.Splosh They weren't running. No, not just yet. They had definitely known that they were being watched, but they had started to walk faster, or maybe into a slow jog. The footsteps were even closer now. Shaco looked behind him, but still couldn't see anyone.
SplishSploshSplishSplosh The victim was running now. They had seen their pursuer start to chase, and they followed suit. At this point, the pursuer should have already had them by now, they were just trying to close the gap. The footsteps were almost an alley away from Shaco. As he turned around, he heard a scream.
A woman's body fell to the ground on the main road. Her eyes were still open wide in fear. There were two giant slash marks running down her body, and she had already been killed. Blood gushed out of the wounds, mixing with the rainwater collected around her body. Shaco looked down the alley she came from. At first, it didn't look like anything. But slowly, Shaco began to see something down that dark path.
Two jade eyes, staring straight in his direction.
Chapter 2
Shaco stared straight into that ominous pair of jade eyes. The eyes were still staring back at him, but they inched ever so slowly towards the main street. The Jester pulled out his shivs, and hopped down onto the street, making sure not to slip on the wet surface.
"I see I have a visitor." Shaco stated, his glance never changing. The pair of eyes blinked once, then narrowed. "Would you do the honor of introducing yourself?" Shaco asked, extending his hand forward. "I am Shaco, official Demon Jester of Valoran." As the Jester bowed towards the eyes, the rest of his figure came into view.
A towering scarecrow, made completely from straw, stepped out of the alley, becoming visible to the Jester. The scarecrow had a paper bag as a head, with a unsatisfactorily fashioned hole for a mouth. In both of his hands, he held a vicious looking scythe. He looked just like an ordinary scarecrow.
Except he was alive.
This didn't phase Shaco one bit. During his time in Valoran, he had seen many strange beings and people. A living scarecrow was no exception. However, something seemed...unordinary. Behind those jade eyes was something Shaco could have never seen coming. However, at the time, the Jester didn't take things too seriously.
"Jester." The being spoke, looking down at Shaco. His voice was rather dry, a testament to the material he was made out of. Close up, those jade eyes looked terrifying. However, Shaco still didn't take his situation with the correct caution.
"Do you know where you came from?" The being asked, his jagged smile shaping into what resembled a grin. Shaco was about to answer, but paused. Shaco had been in Valoran for as long as he remembered. Although, now that this scarecrow mentioned it, he didn't know where he came from.
"No...I don't recall." Shaco replied, his tone becoming a lot less amused. The scarecrow grinned as much as the poorly fashioned mouth allowed him to. "We'll, why don't I enlighten you?" The scarecrow held his scythe up high into the air.
"What are you doing?" Shaco asked, his tone becoming more urgent. The being turned towards him. "Those who say they have nothing to fear..." he began.
"Well, they have not felt the crows..."
Chapter 3
At first, Shaco scoffed at the scarecrow's statement. Crows were just pesky scavengers, and nothing more. They cold barely hurt a minion, much less a fully fledged Demon Jester. He was about to make a mocking comment back to the scarecrow, but then he saw them.
Crows. Thousands upon thousands of the black birds flooded the night sky, blotting out the moonlight. Shaco had rarely seen any crows, and they were never in such giant flocks. The crows began to descended towards the alleyway. As they dove closer however, they appeared to be swooping in Shaco's direction. "What...are they doing?" Shaco asked, his tone growing more urgent. "Why, they are simply seeking out their prey." The scarecrow cackled. As the first wave of crows swarmed around Shaco, he slowly fell unconscious.
However, Shaco appeared to be dreaming. His mind transmitted images into his subconscious. A desert. Most likely Shurima. There was a lone figure on the horizon of the unchanging sand dunes. This figure was wearing a turban to shield from the relentless desert sun. He was wearing a green vest over a white tunic, and had bland brown boots. As Shaco's mind zoomed closer to the figure, his features came into view. He wasa a human, with tan skin, blue eyes, and a grin stretching from ear to ear.
Do you know who that is, Jester? The scarecrow's dry voice interrupted Shaco's dream, echoing inside his mind. Shaco was unsure how to reply. Um, no I don't... Shaco thought to himself, assuming that would work. After a long pause, Shaco heard the cackle once again.
That, my dear Jester...that is you.
Chapter 4
If Shaco wasn't dreaming, and if he were actually witnessing this in real life, his jaw would have dropped. The nomad that was being shown to Shaco looked nothing like him. Sure, he looked somewhat like a jester, but nothing like that of Shaco's appearance.
I refuse to accept this...That isn't me... Shaco thought, still trying to get over the fact of that man...being him. It just wasn't possible. Believe all you want, Jester. These next few images will confirm your obvious suspicions. The cackling of the scarecrow bounced off the walls of Shaco's mind, taunting him and making this dream so much more worrisome.
The man (Shaco didn't want to call that man himself just yet.) traveled for a long time. After a while, he began speaking to himself, making his motives clear to Shaco.
"Malzahar...I have to find you..." The man wheezed, the dehydration of the desert taking its toll on him. Shaco realized that if this truly was him, these events must have taken place awhile ago. After all, the Malzahar Shaco knew was a seer from the void, not an ordinary man like...this nomad. Shaco still refused to believe that was him.
After many long hours of traveling, the nomad was at his breaking point. He had clearly not been well prepared for his trip, as he had run out of water a few hours earlier. The nomad dizzily stumbled across the numerous dunes of Shurima. Suddenly, his foot caught on something hard.
The nomad frowned. He began shoving the sand off of the area he had hit with his foot. After some digging, he uncovered a strange colored stone with unrecognizable symbols and words scrawled across it.
Shaco realized where the nomad had arrived before the change occurred. As if on queue, the desert sand parted ways to reveal an ancient ruin. Terrible images were engraved on the stones, and the nomad was horrified.
He had found Icathia.
))