Gnars lore is pretty cool... The jungle does not forgive blindness. Every broken branch tells a story. Ive hunted every creature this jungle has to offer. I was certain there were no challenges left here, but now there is something new. Each track is the size of a tusklord; its claws like scimitars. It could rend a man in half. Finally, worthy prey. As I stalk my prize through the jungle, I begin to see the damage this thing has wrought. I step into a misshapen circle of splintered trees. These giant wooden sentinels have stood over this land for countless ages,their iron-like hides untouched by the flimsy axes of anyone foolish enough to attempt to cut them down. This thing brushed them aside like they were twigs. How can a creature with this level of strength disappear so easily? And yet, even though it has left this unmistakable trail of destruction, I have been unable to lay my eye upon it. How can it appear like a hurricane then fade into the jungle like the morning mist? I thrill in anticipation of finally standing before this creature. It will make a tremendous trophy. Passing through the clearing, I follow the sound of a stream to get my bearings once more. There I see a small shock of orange fur, crouching, waiting. I spy on it from a distance. A tiny fish splashes out of the stream and the creature scrambles for it, diving gleefully into the rushing water. To my joy, I realize its a yordle. And a hunter, at that! This is a good omen. the beast will be found. Nothing will escape me. The yordles large ears perk up and face towards me. He runs on all fours with a bone boomerang in hand, quickly stopping in front of me. He babbles. I nod in appreciation at the young yordle and venture onwards. I traverse the difficult terrain with ease, trying to pick up any sign of my quarry. As I try to pick up his scent, a distraction. Im startled by strange chittering. the yordle followed me. I cannot allow him to disrupt my hunt. I face him and point into the distance. He looks at me quizzically. I need to be more insistant, good omen or no. I rear back and let out a roar, the wind whipping the yordles fur and the ground rumbling beneath us. After a few short seconds, he turns his head and, with what I think could be a smile, he holds up his small boomerang. There can be no further delay. I snatch the weapon out of his hand and expertly throw it into a tree, impaling it high amongst the branches. He turns and scrambles for it, jumping frantically. I barely get ten paces when a roar shakes me to my very spine. The deafening crack of stone and wood echoes all around.ahead, a giant tree crashes across my path. The bone weapon of the yordle juts out from its trunk. and unearthly growl rises behind me. Ive made a terrible mistake. Note: 99% sure that the narrator is Rengar.
Posted on: Tue, 29 Jul 2014 22:27:03 +0000
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