It was her birthday today, not that it really mattered. She had no one with whom to celebrate. So many had passed with little more note than a small mental penciling of her age to be one year greater that it had stopped having significant meaning. All it did was serve to remind her that time continued to pass, one day, one hour, one minute, one second at a time, and it was unending. Long after her body had been turned to dust, time would still march on. The only thing that mattered was how she spent the time she'd been given, and how her actions would echo in eternity.
For the moment, her time was being spent near the Ionian port town of Sasakaikou, located to the west of the Navori Province, and south of the Placidium. It was raining, and she'd drawn her traveling cloak heavily about her figure. She sat atop a seawall, looking out at the ships in the harbor, shuddering briefly. She hated boats. They always made her seasick. She was not looking forward to the long trip back to the mainland, but she'd spent enough time here. It was time to move on.
The smells of cooking fish and other trade goods was lessened by the rain, but the essence of it continued to linger. Her stomach growled. She'd been unable to eat anything for the past day or so. Food had been scarce. She was lucky she'd been able to gather water from the rain.
With a sigh, she lifted herself from her seated position and walked back along the seawall to the boardwalk, her amber eyes scanning the various shops until one seemed to catch her eyes. It was a ramen noodle shop advertising a wide variety of flavors. it had been far too long since she had a proper meal, and the idea of some soy ramen with pork started making her salivate. Her stomach had made her decision for her, and she took a seat.
She pointed to the object she liked on the menu, using what little Ionian she knew to try and clarify, and in no time at all, her meal was placed in front of her, along with a small set of green tea. She sighed and lifted a bite to her mouth, savoring the flavor and the warmth of her meal. Last one before the trip. She'd better enjoy it, she thought, because it would be unlikely she'd be able to keep anything down very well during the voyage...
Post by The Unforgiven on Apr 24, 2014 21:35:44 GMT -5
Just another day. Another day on the run, another day on the hunt, another day as a traitor, a murderer. Each day he grew more and more tired, it seemed he'd never catch the true criminal. He had been wandering for so long, unforgiven, completely and utterly alone in his endeavor. He watched his back everywhere he went, only entering cities in the dark, shrouded by thick cloaks. He was the prey, yet he remained a predator, all who hunted him fell but the one whom he hunted eluded him. His country hunted him, hated him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the infamous legend, Yasuo the Unforgiven, was brought to "Justice".
Rain. He liked and hated rain, he felt at home in the winds and cold of a storm, but at the same time it brought a hollow sense of failure. He never stayed in a town for long, no more than a day or two was wasted before he trailed off in the direction of another lead or another bar. He wore one of the thick cloaks he often exchanged, this one a muddled brown and grey, it kept him warm and somewhat dry under the falling rains. Sasakaikou, he had not been here in months, but today it was a lead he chased, not a bar.
His stomach roared at him as he marched through the streets, making his way to the port. Never slowing, always marching, the life of this wanderer was a road, a trail, a path. He reached the boardwalk, looking out into the waters that lay darkened from the stormy skys, he hoped his quarry had not escaped to the mainland already. He had been tracking her for days, the distance between the two was closing, she had to be here, there was no other place she could be.
Rumbling interrupted his steps once more, his body demanded nourishment, and so he scanned the boardwalk for a vendor. He did not wish for anything too big, a bowl of ramen sounded appetizing, and so he set forth down the boardwalk searching. He spotted once such shop and quickly took a seat, he ordered a bowl, speaking in a thick Ionian accent stating he'd lived here for most if not all his life. Though the seats were mostly vacant, he chose to sit near another cloaked figure. He missed people, casual and not so casual talks, though now he was rarely able to get a few words in before he left.
"Sailing somewhere?" He asked, nodding at the stranger, speaking in common tongue, "The way you're looking at that food makes me think you won't be having any on those ships. Can't sail myself, would have done it long ago were it not for how wobbly my sea-legs are." He chuckled at his own words, trying to keep things light. Right now he just wanted a little company, and maybe a little information.
"Sailing somewhere?" He asked, nodding at the stranger, speaking in common tongue, "The way you're looking at that food makes me think you won't be having any on those ships. Can't sail myself, would have done it long ago were it not for how wobbly my sea-legs are." He chuckled at his own words, trying to keep things light. Right now he just wanted a little company, and maybe a little information.
"Mainland." She spoke calmly, glancing to her side just enough to see the man at her side was armed. That wasn't so uncommon. Travelers often carried weapons for protection while on the road. Her gaze wandered no further, her hood sticking up over her head and low over her face to hide any telltale signs of her identity.
"I tend to do poorly on ships." She left it at that and lifted the chopsticks to her mouth with her left hand. It was something she'd gotten used to doing to help hide her identity, despite being right handed. Her left wasn't nearly as skilled as her right, but it was easier than having to pack and unpack her gauntlet all the time. It was also for storage reasons and for preparedness. It was better to travel ready for a fight than it was to be unprepared. "Food at sea also isn't the best."
Post by The Unforgiven on Apr 27, 2014 13:03:33 GMT -5
He laughed heartily at her words, it was very true that food at sea was far from appetizing. He gulped down some of his ramen, savoring the warm feeling as it ran down his throat and into his stomach, it had been awhile since his last hot meal. Despite his relaxed tone and joking mannerism, it would be clear to a trained eye was quite on edge. He flickered his head at times, scanning the boardwalk and watching his back, a worried and thoughtful look on his face. His trademark ponytail was not in place, whenever he traveled into villages or towns he needed his hood, so he let his hair fall into one thin long ponytail that trailed down most of his back.
His worried look traveled to her now, he tried to catch a good glimpse of her face as he spoke, "I would appreciate if you might keep a small amount of discretion about this, but I'd like to ask if you've heard or seen a former Noxian around this village." He again scanned around, it was clear she was foreign and so he didn't fear Ionian wrath as he spoke, "She might have dropped in here today or yesterday, I've heard she was in search of aid and wished to offer my blade." He stated friendly intentions, he was going to offer his blade, she would either come with him back to Placidium or she would feel it's cold, Ionian steel in her flesh.
His worried look traveled to her now, he tried to catch a good glimpse of her face as he spoke, "I would appreciate if you might keep a small amount of discretion about this, but I'd like to ask if you've heard or seen a former Noxian around this village." He again scanned around, it was clear she was foreign and so he didn't fear Ionian wrath as he spoke, "She might have dropped in here today or yesterday, I've heard she was in search of aid and wished to offer my blade." He stated friendly intentions, he was going to offer his blade, she would either come with him back to Placidium or she would feel it's cold, Ionian steel in her flesh.
"Any Noxian would be foolish to seek help from a nation they crippled and damaged so heavily." Riven spoke, her face not moving from her bowl of ramen noodles and pork. Her sideways gaze had picked up on the mannerisms of the man beside her. Could he be the one she'd sensed following her for days? It was a possibility, but given the nature of the grudges held by many Ionians, revealing her identity to him would be most unwise. Even if the Kinkou, and even Irelia herself had allowed her to speak in their company, she could not expect such treatment from every Ionian.
"I haven't seen a former Noxian in my travels. I'm sorry." Not a lie, not an untruth either. She considered herself a Noxian, even if she didn't believe in the path that Noxus currently walked. She wasn't looking for aid, exactly, she was looking for evidence. But his words made her curious. Why was he even seeking her at all? "Why would an Ionian like you be seeking a Noxian in the first place? To what end do you wish them aid?"
Post by The Unforgiven on May 3, 2014 18:45:31 GMT -5
"If I've been informed correctly, she holds a cause that..." A long and deep sigh escaped from him, his friendly demeanor dropping to one of sadness for only a second, "A cause that hits close to home one might say." It was true, her cause was familiar to him, he also felt that his country had strayed from the path, if only concerning him.
They had charged him of treason, and though he did not blame them as the evidence was very powerful, he knew they were wrong. He would be willing to accept the charges of abandoning his post, of disobeying orders, but he would not accept punishment for something he never committed. When he had first heard of this lead, he jumped to conclusion, he would have readily cut this woman to shreds for what she'd done to him. However, after he had spent the last few days thinking of her and her cause, he realized that it might be improbable that this woman had murdered the elder. The rumors were not of a slimy Noxian assassin, they were of a honorable soldier, one who even as her state changed remained resolute in her ways.
"I made a mistake, plain and simple." He spoke calmly, but inside his anger brewed, it was directed at himself, not the one who had murdered the elder, "I'm no longer welcome in this land, but it is my home, and I will continue to follow it's ways." He again spoke the truth, Ionia was his home and nothing would change that, so long as it stayed it's true path, he would protect it to his last breath.
He reached into his cloak, pulling a container from it and taking a quick swig. The warmth of sake coated his insides, a welcome warmth, comforting. He reached his arm out, offering the drink to the woman at the table with him, "Drink?"
Riven lifted her left hand to wave him off and shook her head underneath the hood of her cloak. "No thank you. I don't drink." She'd never particularly enjoyed alcohol, except as a mild warming tool in the Freljord. And even then, only in moderation, and when she knew she could reach camp. Otherwise the warmth would give way to a chill soon after as warm blood dropped in temperature and flowed into her core. She took another drink of her tea. "My tea is all I need."
She was silent a moment as she pondered the rest of what he had said. If this man was the source of the sensations she'd been having over the past few days, it could mean it was dangerous. Still, the way he spoke seemed to suggest honesty. The man did not seem outwardly hostile. A wandering swordsman, a ronin, if she remembered the Ionian word, looking for his own path. She could understand him, but something about him continued to make her cautious. It was then that she realized what it was.
It was his sword.
She'd seen designs similar to that before at a particular school of the blade in Ionia... And then, it hit her. The man said to have been guarding the school's elder was described as having long hair, a shaved, angular face with a light beard, and carried a sword shaped as if by the wind itself. When they'd moved to attack, it was only after he'd been sighted as getting ready to leave. There was no mistaking it. This man...was the Swordsman, the Blade of the Wind. She took a deep breath and sighed slowly.
"Sometimes...a warrior must follow what is in her heart, even if it goes against the ways of her homeland, in order to work for the greater good." Riven paused a moment longer...before she pulled back her hood and turned to look at Yasuo, her eyes calm and determined, and holding no hostility. "She may be labeled a traitor, she may become an Exile, but in her heart, she knows she must follow her own path, and reforge what is broken..." Her attention lingered on the samurai, ready to react should he become hostile. She was anything but unwary or unprepared...
"I must apologize, Swordsman. It would seem that...you've found that for which you were searching." Her tone was even and calm. She made no actions, hostile or otherwise. She waited for his reaction to temper her own.
Post by The Unforgiven on May 5, 2014 21:27:11 GMT -5
Dropping the flask, he slammed his hand onto the hilt of his blade, sliding a few inches of steel from it's sheathe. His brow furrowed and he glared right into the Exile's eyes, anger and hatred burning like wildfire. Murderer, traitor, monster, these titles rushed through his head, accusing him, searing his soul. She had brought these names upon him, she had slain the elder, ending his true life, forcing him to wander the woods as if he were a lost child. The Ionian blood that stained his hands belonged to her, it belonged on her hands not his, he had been but an instrument and she the musician. The blood of his beloved brother, Yone, his death was her doing, not his!
Sliding steel once again sounded, but now it had been replaced in it's original position. His eyes broke contact, looking down at the ground between his feet, though she was a factor in the elder's death, he had been the one who sealed it. His brother's blood , crimson as the dawn flashed in his mind, only one blade held that blood, his own. Without looking he reached a hand across the table, snatching up the flask once more, bringing it to his face he looked down into it, a little sake remained. He downed the rest of the drink, it was little but he craved all of it. Replacing it on his rope belt, he soon felt himself feeling his chest through the loose clothing, grasping at the maple seed that so often gave him comfort.
Patience, humility, honor. It was possible this was not the one responsible, and even if she was, his duty would be to bring her before the elders, not dispense his own vigilante justice. He would gain nothing from a corpse, the feeling of revenge would but last a few moments before sadness consumed him once more, "You are the one they call, Riven then." He again met her eyes, but now it seemed nothing lay in them, they were cold and devoid of emotion, "I apologize for my less than honest words, I do not wish to aid your quest." Honesty was a trait he was meant to hold at all times, yet he had been deceitful, he comforted himself thinking the end would justify the means.
"I am here because I have heard you utilize a technique much like my own. Though yours is much less refined, you are still somewhat able to harness the power of the wind." His voiced held steady, it held no hostility yet no hospitality either, "I am Yasuo. You may have heard the stories of "The Unforgiven" in your time here, those stories belong to I. I am charged with the crime of treason, for slaying the elder I was meant to guard with my life. However, if you are the one I believe you are, you know that's not quite true, is it?" His eyes did not lose focus of her, piercing into her as if with his own sword.
"You are the one they call, Riven then." He again met her eyes, but now it seemed nothing lay in them, they were cold and devoid of emotion, "I apologize for my less than honest words, I do not wish to aid your quest." Honesty was a trait he was meant to hold at all times, yet he had been deceitful, he comforted himself thinking the end would justify the means.
"I am here because I have heard you utilize a technique much like my own. Though yours is much less refined, you are still somewhat able to harness the power of the wind." His voiced held steady, it held no hostility yet no hospitality either, "I am Yasuo. You may have heard the stories of "The Unforgiven" in your time here, those stories belong to I. I am charged with the crime of treason, for slaying the elder I was meant to guard with my life. However, if you are the one I believe you are, you know that's not quite true, is it?" His eyes did not lose focus of her, piercing into her as if with his own sword.
"You're correct... I am Riven, 82nd Champion of the League of Legends, and a Noxian Exile." She sighed, nodding as she spoke. "I don't blame you for being somewhat dishonest. As you may recall, I was not entirely honest with you either." Riven glanced to the man as she sipped some of her drink and took another bite of her ramen and pork. There was no sense in trying to skate around the truth when the man sitting next to hear knew the truth almost as well as she did, from the opposite side of the fence at least.
"I can't say I've heard you mentioned by that name, Yasuo, but I am no stranger to the story you tell." Her face softened and her eyes darkened with memories. "I'm afraid you know as well as I do that you did not kill the elder." She paused a moment, her mind recalling the events that had transpired. Students attacking her to save their master, overcoming them, the man himself standing to fight her, the climactic finish where she learned the true power of her will for the first time...
"You did not kill the elder, because I was the one who defeated him." Another pause while she turned to face her teacup, lifting it to sip as she spoke. "Did you know he died honorably, Swordsman? I saw to it that he did. My company dispatched with the rest of the defenses while I alone went to remove the priority target." The tea swirled in the cup as she continued.
"An assassin did not kill your elder, but he did fall by a blade that was not your own." She huffed dryly. "I do not condone the act of assassination. It is a vile thing. A true Noxian does not need to lurk in the shadows to prove their strength..." She lifted her gaze so her amber eyes could meet his once more.
"Your elder was a man respected by much of Ionia, and well-known as a master of the wind. I gave him the respect he deserved, and defeated him after dispatching his guardians. He...fought well." She blinked a long blink and sighed. "You must understand that I never meant to bring such suffering upon you, Swordsman. Truly...I never wished to bring such suffering upon anyone...but...I was not as wise back then, and I followed orders more blindly." Riven shook her head again and returned her gaze to her cup.
"I did what I had to do, and my hands are forever stained by it. I know the weight of my sins, and the sins of my nation. I love it so, even now, so much that seeing what has become of it angers and infuriates me." Again, Riven turned her gaze back to Yasuo. "I cannot give you back your life, Swordsman... Even if your name is cleared of the charge of treason, it will not remove the blood from your hands. This is something I know all too well..." Her eyes showed the weariness in her heart at those words, but her next statements showed her inner fire.
"All I can do is reforge that which is broken, and prevent more suffering like that which I helped cause." She looked him dead in the eyes, unwavering, strong and resolute. "That is my one and only goal..."
Post by The Unforgiven on May 8, 2014 17:36:42 GMT -5
She spoke of the blood that stained his hands, she had no right. Though it may have been his fault that it had seeped into his flesh, his cause had been noble, he wanted to aid his kinsman to stave this woman's foul nation. They had soaked this land, drowned it in a crimson tsunami of pain and brutal murder. She had as much right to walk upon this land as the Noxians who marched with the Order of Shadows, that was to say none at all. He would make sure she would depart and never return to this peaceful land.
An honorable death, as if it mattered now. Too many years had past, too many nights in the dark woods with the smell of blood in the wind. They both held a part in his shattered life, and though he hated himself, he hated her equally. That was it, there was no single one to blame, they were both at fault, and they both would pay for their crimes. He stood, silent as a ghost, rain pattered on a broken face, a face full of ruin, sorrow, and hate all at once. His dark gaze blazed into the Exile, no more pleasantries were to be shared here, first they was business to attend to.
"Every drop on my blade, upon my hands, is a part of you as well." He growled through a rigid, grinding jaw, "The elder, the hundreds of hunters who have chased me for every day after that one, our blades are linked. For every life my blade takes, yours shares in its soul, and for every life yours ends, mine drinks of its blood. From that day on we were one in battle, from the day you should have fell upon my blade, we became the same." His voice held strong in the downpour, his target found, their deaths immanent.
"You will come with me to Placidium, I will be released from my title of traitor, of murderer." The anger in his voice faded, the voice of a man duty bound by honor rose up, "We will fight, and one of us will die an honorable death, while the other continues on their quest. One of us will fall from this world, but they will do so knowing that they did so with dignity. Your life belongs to me as mine belongs to you, should I live I will serve my country until my last breath as I am sure you will do should you emerge victorious. I believe your goal true, and you capable. Now I ask of you to make good your words, reforge my honor, reforge that which you have shattered. Return to Placidium and let us bleed." The winds surged as if proud of their warrior, he had called upon her honor, and upon his own.
"You think me telling the leadership that I killed your elder will bring back the lives your blade has taken, Swordsman?" Her hand held tight on the handle of her weapon now. She did not have any desire to fight this man, but she would defend herself if he took hostile action. "I did not swing the blade that killed them. I did not force your hand, make you a killer. Your decision to end their lives did." She placed a hand on her chest.
"I do not blame Noxus for the lives I've taken, simply the ideology that tried to excuse such actions. Noxus did not swing my blade...I did." Her tone was laced with bitterness and disgust of her own actions. "A weapon is nothing without its wielder. A blade does not kill by itself. You are responsible for your own actions." She paused again.
"The woman you want to kill is dead, Swordsman. She died on the fields of Coeur when her own nation deemed her loss 'acceptable' and slaughtered its own people to try and defeat yours. I now fight to see a future where that sort of viciousness, that callous disregard for human life, has no place." Her brow furrowed and she shook her head.
"I came from the Placidium just a few weeks ago, where I gave valuable information to the Guard Captain..." She met his gaze once more. "Does not your code speak of benevolence and mercy, does not it teach rightness of action?" Riven had learned much of Ionian teachings, if none of the language, in her long years wandering the country. Tenants of their honor system were among them. "What do you hope to achieve by killing me, here, now? Vengeance? Some twisted concept of honor regained?"
She rose, and quickly threw off her cloak, her blade clattering heavily to the ground beside her as she stood, arms spread. "I will not fight you, Swordsman. I will not kill you. I have done enough of both, and I swore to myself I would fight on my own terms, for my own ideals of strength. There is nothing to be gained by fighting you, and the only thing you truly have to gain by killing me is another life on your hands, more blood, more sins..." Her eyes were stern, strong, as they always were.
"Your code prevents you from killing an unarmed opponent, one who does not wield a blade against you. If you strike me now, you will truly become a murderer. There will be no honor regained, no grand duel, simply more blood, more death, and more hatered, and you will continue the very cycle you seem to wish to end... So, ask yourself, Swordsman..." Her brow softened, almost pleading the man to think, and not act based only on his emotions.
Post by The Unforgiven on May 9, 2014 1:47:27 GMT -5
Was this what he truly wanted? No, he wanted to live, he wanted to raise a family, he was tired of this life wandering through the woods afraid of every shadow. He wanted a soft bed, a nice house, a beautiful wife, children to carry on his legacy. But no one could have what they wanted, he would gladly die any day for his country but they hunted him. He would always be bound to the hard earth, a wandering blade without a home, without a companion. He was Yasuo, The Unforgiven, and he wanted to be forgiven.
"The blood on my hands will haunt me, Exile, as you seem so keen on reminding me." He growled, agitated, "And you could not expect me to roll over and allow them to hang me, a criminal, a monster. I wanted to be remembered as a man who served his country well, not a traitor, though it is too late for that now. Unlike you I do not wish to change my land, I wish to change my life and my life alone. Now all I want is to avenge my fallen master, and then fade into obscurity, to live a quiet and peaceful life. Though the woman may have died in those fields, her body remains the same, and it was that body which struck down my master." He shook his head lightly, he had not intended to draw his blade in the first place.
"Do not act childish, Exile, pick up your broken sword. Did I say I wanted you dead here and now? No, I did not, put away your unnecessary show, it will attract unwanted attention." He hissed, clearly unamused by her boisterous gesture, he had survived by not attracting attention, and now she was practically screaming for all to look and behold the two, "Of course I will not strike if you don't hold your blade but I had not even drawn you fool." He could not hide his bitterness, though he was learning this woman would take a lot of convincing to return to Placidium with him.
He should have guessed the rumors were false when they spoke of an honorable Noxian. She had started off well but now she seemed to eager to give him reasons not to fight her, when his mind was clearly set. It was a simple matter for him and he did not understand why she had to shy away from the concept of fighting him, it was far from foreign to her violent city state. He might not even need to slay her, if he brought her before they elders and she confessed to the murder, they could restore his honor and she could be free to go. Though it would be honorable to respect that decision he realized it would be nearly impossible, she had had a hand in his brother's death, and she would pay for it.
"Pick up your cloak, let us find somewhere dry to speak." He barked at Riven, he loved the wind but rain was another matter, "I'd rather not catch ill with important events so near."
"I will do no such thing, Swordsman." Riven stood defiantly, the rain matting down her hair, but not dampening the fire in her eyes. "You wish for me to admit something I did long ago. That, I can do openly. But then, you say we will fight, and one of us shall die..." She frowned once more. "You ask me to return with you to the Placidium to clear your name, only to sentence one of us to death." She shook her head. "That, I will not do."
"You would so easily throw away the life you will have been given? As long as you live, you can work for something. Does your life truly have no meaning outside of you regaining your honor? I will not be used as a means to an end by anyone again, especially by one who values his life so little." She shifted in her position, placing her right hand on her chest.
"I have no desire to stain my blade with more blood. I have no desire to fight or kill you, or anyone else unless absolute necessity demands it. And more, I have something to live for, something greater than myself. I will not let one man's single-minded dreams of absolution prevent me from accomplishing what I must do." She sighed, a long, heavy breath flowing from her lips in the warm rain.
"I fight for those who were lost on the fields during the bombardment that took the lives of the only family and friends I had ever known... I fight for those that I killed, to give their lives, their sacrifices meaning... Your elder among them. Ionian, Noxian, it doesn't matter. We were all sent to slaughter that day, and no level of honor or strength on our part would have spared us." She swallowed and shook her head.
"I understand that you wish to do the same. I understand that you want to give the lives you've taken meaning and purpose by clearing your name, your mission to find the killed of your elder complete." She pointed to Yasuo, her eyes seeking his. "By skill or by luck, Yasuo, you have lived, survived. Your heart mourns as mine does. When does the cycle of death end? Would you truly, willingly, act to strike down one who acts to end this cycle of suffering and hate?" Her eyes continued to examine his, trying to find a way to end this without bloodshed, without a need to disrupt her mission.
"Speak to the Kinkou. Speak to the Guard Captain. They will tell you my words and actions do not lie..." Her arms fell to her sides, even as her gaze softened again, her tone easing. "What must I do to show you, to convince you that this path is meaningless? You wished to fight for your country, and I wish to fight the corruption that plagues both of our lands. We should not stand here as enemies..."
Her words were sincere, and her eyes were clear of deception. She did not fit the description of any Noxian Yasuo would have ever known or heard about, other than her. She did not speak of death, of strength, other than personal strength. She did not speak of greed, simply understanding and truly living a life. This woman...in her own way, displayed an honor, a code, not dissimilar from his own.
But, she had asked him what would prove her words true. If he truly wished for a fight, it was possible she would bend to his wishes, but it was unlikely she would fight to kill him. Nor would she throw her life to the wind... He was a true swordsman. He knew that a blade could talk and speak more clearly than any set of promises. Each clash resonated with intent, each parry and swing of will and desire. When two masters of the blade met, their very spirits intermingled on the field.
Regardless, the figurative blade was in his hand...
Post by The Unforgiven on May 15, 2014 18:45:10 GMT -5
"Exile, you impede justice, you hold information that could bring the truth to light." His anger finally began to truly shine through, a sneer crossing his lips, "I do not care what excuses you make for refusing to fight, I label you a coward, and you will return to Placidium with me. Make this easy on yourself and cooperate." Though it might've been taken as an option, his tone demanded it, his tone and his now drawn katana.
"I promise you no harm until the elders have decided their course of action. But only if you come with me willingly. If you put up a fight I can promise you no safety." Wind howled once more, echoing his power, "Place your heads on your head and kick your weapon over to me. If you so much as twitch your arm for that blade I will cut you down before you can blink." He threatened, his speed was unmatched and he knew it, he was the wind.
He had grown tired of her arrogance, of her preaching. His mission had not been to just find the killer of his master, but to punish them in equal amounts of what they'd done to the elder. A life for a life was an even trade, and this Exile was trying to cheat her way out of the deal, nothing more. No one but the elders would be able to convince him that what he was doing was wrong, the only other man was his brother, and he lay buried for years. She was an enemy to him, and an enemy to the state, and she was to be treated as such. Should she draw, no quarter would be given until one of them was slain.
Though he planned to take her to the elders, to plead his innocence and set history right, he had been on this mission for so long. It's length had taken it's toll on him, and with his brother dead he was being pushed to the edge. He was already having a hard time quelling his blood rage, internally he did blame this woman for every death upon his blade. He had been the sword and she the wielder, yet his view did flick back and forth in his deteriorating mind. Sometimes it was his fault, other times the murderer was the cause for all that was wrong. But both views still demanded that she be brought to justice, and neither would hold back.
Undoubtedly there would be onlookers now, a drawn katana was no thing to be ignored. Soon the guard would be on their way, his eyes filled with rage as he sweeped the area behind Riven, looking for them already, "More blood will be spilled if you do not come, the guard will be here soon. Come with me and they'll live, if not, they will die in your defense." He wanted out, soon he would be a cornered animal, the wind reached blazing speeds as he prepared himself for the worst.
Place her hands on her head, kick over her blade, submit, surrender, give in... These were the things the man before her demanded of her. Her blade was already at her feet. It would take more time than usual to take it in hand. She'd faced the Wuju Master on the Fields, witnessed the speed of the Peerless Duelist. Both of them could strike so fast it was almost impossible to see them. Whatever speed the man before her claimed to have, surely it would not exceed such warriors of their stature. However, that did not mean it was impossible for him to match it...
Her thoughts flickered back to her duel with the Beastman. His incredible strength had forced her to push her body beyond all normal limits, to fight freely as she had never done before. But here, with the crowd gathering, to fight with such unbridled strength would do far more harm than good. Luckily for her, that meant that the samurai would have to face the same problems. Would he truly cut down civilians as well as the guard with his abilities all to make a point? If so...then he was more misguided than she thought.
"...It seems that violence, or threats of it is all you understand." Riven sighed. "I have more pressing matters at hand than spending more time tending to the needs of one man." Her eyes narrowed, even as the crowd of fisherman and other citizens of Ionia and Sasakaikou gathered around the pair of warriors. many of them seemed to recognize Riven as a League Champion, and many spoke in hushed and excited tones. Some, of course, seemed displeased with her presence, but mostly, they seemed drawn to the conflict that seemed to be brewing. Riven's voice lifted and carried above the crowd.
"If I must face a reckoning for my actions, I will do so here and now, in front of these people who I have wounded so deeply I can never hope to repay all that I have taken from them. I am done running from my past..." Riven lowered her hands to her sides as the Ionian Guard arrived and began to set up a perimeter and advance. But a swift reaction from Riven halted them before the samurai could attempt to strike them down. "Stay your blades!" Her amber eyes met theirs.
"This man is not the criminal he has been made out to be. Stay your blades..." The guards looked confused, but didn't react immediately as Riven continued. "In the name of the Institute of War and the League of Legends, I, Riven, the Exile, accept this man's challenge as the 82nd Champion of the League." The crowd's mumbling increased as the guards, slowly, hesitantly, withdrew, and pulled the onlookers to the sides to give the woman room to answer the samurai's challenge. As they did, Riven looked to Yasuo.
"I will never move forward to long as I am shackled by my past...and neither will you, Yasuo." No more running, no more guilt. She would face her past, and just as she had done in all things since she had joined the League, she would do so on her own terms. "You wandered, searched, for the true killer of the Ionian Elder you guarded in the war. You have found her, that I openly admit." The crowd, and the guardsmen, murmured in curious, questioning tones as Riven spoke. A Noxian killing the elder in a time of war when the temple had been attacked? That was certainly more likely than his own guardian murdering him in cold blood. And Riven's abilities on the Fields were well-documented now. She used a wind slash regularly. It all made perfect sense. There could be no question of Yasuo's innocence of his crime against the Elder now... Even still, Riven spoke.
"I give you the chance to have the duel you missed when you abandoned your post..." Even if Yasuo was cleared of his murder charges, he was still guilty of dereliction of duty, and the killings of several sent to find and capture him. At this point, did it even matter if he fought her? What would it prove? What would change? Would the future be different if he fought her now? And if so, for whom? Would the past? Would any of it be worth it?
"If more violence and bloodshed is what you desire, Swordsman, then I will face you." She met his eyes once again, her fingers curling along the handle of her sword. "But I will not kill you... Only in life do we have the chance to move forward, to improve, to find redemption, and give meaning to the lives that chain us both to the past. And, I would not rob the lives your blade has taken of that chance, nor will I allow yours to silence mine." Riven frowned faintly, her brow furrowing with hints of regret.
"After all, between us both, I have more voices to answer..."
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.
