Witherwood Dungeons, the Chamber of Binding

"Not your advice, no," came the Grand General's purposeful growl as they navigated the twisting hallways of Witherwood Arcane College, drawing stares from scholars and experts alike. A clatter sounded as a young sorceress dropped her armful of brass-encased scrolls to the stone floor. Her eyebrows shot up as Brand's looming form passed, casting an ominous glow about the passage. "Your presence. A statement."

The Master Tactician's paid no heed to the stares and salutes of learned men. He pressed onward, step, step, cane, until they came to the grand spire's foyer, emerged into the colored daylight beneath stained glass windows, where he chose to elaborate. "In two days time, we depart for Ionia, the first of our assimilated territories. It is a country ripe for unification, a country we shall shape, bit by bit, until it suits the grander scheme."

Swain paused upon the lush runner, sinking his cane into it while two Raedsel strode forward to shoulder the college doors. These swung open; the honor guards stood at attention as the party crossed the threshold onto the marble stair. Below, in the street, an ornate carriage sat waiting. Several passers by stopped dead in their tracks to take in sight of the emerging cyborg, sinister, aflame. Yet another display of Noxus' might.