Rengar hails from a tribe of Shuriman vastaya known as the Kiilash, whose society venerated the honor and glory of the hunt. Rengar was born the runt of the litter to the tribe's chieftain, Ponjaf. Ponjaf believed Rengar's diminutive size would make him a worthless hunter. He ignored his child, assuming the runt would starve to death.
Eventually, the young Rengar fled the camp, ashamed that he had disappointed his father. He subsisted on grubs and plants for weeks until, one day, he was nearly killed by a legendary human hunter named Markon. Upon seeing Rengar's state, he took pity on the creature and let it live. Besides, this was no mighty vastayan warrior worthy of Markon's blade.
Rengar spent months following Markon, feeding off the corpses the hunter left behind. He still hoped to one day rejoin his tribe, and so took great care in observing how Markon took down his quarries.
After some time, Markon grew sick of the pathetic Kiilash following him around. He put a knife to Rengar's throat and informed him that the only way to be a hunter was to hunt. He tossed Rengar the blade and kicked him down a ravine, where he was forced to make his first kill to survive.
From then on, Rengar spent years pushing himself almost to breaking point. He scoured Shurima for the most powerful and dangerous prey. Though he would never be as big as other Kiilash, Rengar was determined to be twice as ferocious. Over time, instead of coming back to his camp each time with fresh scars, he began to come back with trophies. He polished a sandhawk's skull to a sheen; he braided the teeth of a shrieker into his hair.
Then, when he decided the time had come, Rengar returned to his tribe, ready to be accepted as a true hunter.
Ponjaf scoffed at Rengar and his trophies. He decreed that only by bringing back the head of the elusive and legendary Void-abomination known as Kha'Zix would Rengar be welcomed back into the tribe.
Blinded by his eagerness, Rengar allowed this cunning beast to get the drop on him. The Void creature ripped out one of Rengar's eyes and escaped. Furious and defeated, Rengar admitted his failure to Ponjaf. As expected, his father chastised him.
But as Ponjaf spoke, Rengar noticed all the trophies adorning his father's hut were dusty and old. The chieftain had not hunted anything in a long time—he had likely sent Rengar after Kha'Zix because he was too afraid to do it himself.
Rengar interrupted his father and called him a coward. Many Kiilash were blessed with strong bodies or comfortable homes. Rengar, conversely, was born facing death. He had taught himself how to hunt, and had the trophies and scars to prove it. Even his own bloody eye socket was a trophy: proof that though Rengar was born with disadvantages, he never gave up.
Rengar leapt onto his father and gutted him from neck to belly. The fiercest hunters of the tribe crowned him with flame-roses, marking him as their new chieftain.
But Rengar didn't need his village's acceptance. All he needed was adrenaline pumping through his veins as he chased down his prey. He left the village, without even pausing to take a trophy from what was left of Ponjaf—his father was not a kill worthy of remembering. Instead, he set off determined to find and slay the Void creature that had tried to blind him.
Not to satisfy the Kiilash, but to satisfy himself.
", "short": "Rengar is a ferocious vastayan trophy hunter who lives for the thrill of tracking down and killing dangerous creatures. He scours the world for the most fearsome beasts he can find, especially seeking any trace of Kha’Zix, the void creature who scratched out his eye. Rengar stalks his prey neither for food nor glory, but for the sheer beauty of the pursuit.", "quote": "“Prey on the weak and you may survive. Prey on the strong and you will truly live.”", "quote-author": "Rengar" }, "headerImage": null }, "related-champions": [ { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-09-27T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Kha'Zix", "title": "the Voidreaver", "section-title": "Kha'Zix", "slug": "khazix", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "void", "image": { "title": "Khazix_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/2d0ccab8e48ffc2daf3cfc0a9482c52601616ca7-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 983, "y": 231, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Khazix_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/2d0ccab8e48ffc2daf3cfc0a9482c52601616ca7-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 983, "y": 231, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/khazix", "video": { "title": "khazix-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe_live/492d9e241d283414d9468e1936d8fc1982bd1bfe.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 983, "y": 231, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/khazix", "biography": { "full": "A vicious Void predator, Kha'Zix infiltrated Valoran to devour the land's most promising creatures. With each kill he absorbs his prey's strength, evolving to grow more powerful. Kha'Zix hungers most to conquer and consume Rengar, the one beast he considers his equal.Far, far from the harsh deserts of the Great Sai, over savanna plains and mountain steppes, lie the great jungles on the border of Ixtal and Shurima. Swathed in mystery, they are home to wild, fantastical beasts, and dense forests blooming with life. But while there is overwhelming beauty to be found there, danger and death lurk nearby in equal measure.
\nNo one knows how Nidalee—in the form of a cub—came to be alone in the heart of the jungle, but it was her cries echoing through the trees that captured the attention of the jungle's fiercest cats: the pakaa.
\nA mother, roaming with her cubs, approached Nidalee. Perhaps it was her scent, or a mother’s intuition, that led the great cat to accept this strange kit without hesitation, half-leading, half-dragging her back to their den.
\nNidalee was raised in the company of the pakaa, who treated her as one of their own—a creature of the jungle. She grew up playing alongside the other cubs, learning to hunt with tooth and claw and to stalk the jungles for her prey. She grew into her role as a member of the pack and as a capable huntress.
\nEven so, at times Nidalee began to lose control of her own body. Without warning, her paws would change to strange hairless hands and feet, her sharp fangs to blunted teeth. Occasionally she would stumble from the den, delirious with fever, her body caught in a state of half-transformation as she followed the hazy silhouettes of two strange figures—they whispered after her, their voices jumbled but sweet. They brought Nidalee a sense of comfort and warmth, even though her feline family had taught her to be wary of outsiders.
\nAnd with good cause.
\nIt was at the height of the summer rains when she first encountered the Kiilash. These vastayan hunters ranged into the forests every season in search of prestigious kills and trophies to show their prowess. Nidalee's mother tried to chase them away, but fell, wounded by their blades and spears.
\nBut before the Kiilash could finish the aging wildcat, Nidalee lunged from the undergrowth, howling with grief and rage. As she tore into them with razor sharp claws and fangs, they rounded on her with even stronger weapons.
\nBut something had changed.
\nShe felt the spirit of another heritage, long forgotten, rise up within her. Transforming from pakaa to something resembling a human, she grabbed a hunter's lunging weapons with cat-like reflexes and nimble fingers and turned it upon her enemies. The Kiilash growled and hissed at this sight, and to her surprise Nidalee found she understood some of their speech.
\nThey cursed her, invoking the name of their Vastayashai'rei ancestors as they retreated from the fight, empty-handed.
\nHurling the spear aside, Nidalee held her dying mother close. Her siblings approached, wary of her new form but comforted by her familiar scent. With the passing of their mother they came to accept this shapechanger as their new leader—from that day forth, she vowed to defend her adopted home against any who would seek to plunder it.
\nOver time, she learned to better control her powers, eventually shifting between both forms with ease. She also became more adept with her new form, learning to take advantage of her surroundings while building traps and weapons unknown to the pakaa, crafting healing salves from honeyfruit, and utilizing seeds and flowers to protect and illuminate her territory. And in the back of her mind, she wondered whether she was the only one of the pakaa who could change their shape.
\nPerhaps it was a yearning to find others of her kind that led her to the chameleon-like wanderer Neeko, and the two became inseparable for a time. Nidalee delighted in mentoring her inquisitive new companion, and they reveled in exploring the jungle's numerous wonders together, before Neeko eventually departed to follow her own destiny beyond Shurima's shores.
\nEven now, the dense forests remain the last truly untamed wilderness in the known world, and something of an enigma even to Nidalee. Still, in rare, quiet moments, the huntress finds herself dwelling on her own origins—and her encounter with the Kiilash—and whether she will learn the truth behind any of it…
", "short": "Raised in the deepest wilderness, Nidalee is a master tracker who can shapeshift into a ferocious pakaa jungle cat at will. Neither wholly woman nor beast, she viciously defends her territory from any and all trespassers, with carefully placed traps and deft spear throws. She cripples her quarry before pouncing on them in feline form—the lucky few who survive tell tales of a wild woman with razor-sharp instincts, and even sharper claws...
", "quote": "“The untamed know no fear.”", "quote-author": "Nidalee" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2014-08-14T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Gnar", "title": "the Missing Link", "section-title": "Gnar", "slug": "gnar", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "freljord", "image": { "title": "Gnar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9905f7f1e16accc24dcb062abddd3ccf9ea09528-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1036, "y": 485, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Gnar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9905f7f1e16accc24dcb062abddd3ccf9ea09528-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1036, "y": 485, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/gnar", "video": { "title": "gnar-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/a4c60e5dc93a89e929873d83bc17b9a350545d82.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 1036, "y": 485, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/gnar", "biography": { "full": "Before the ice had given the Freljord its name, there existed a land brimming with wonder—that is, if one could see the world through the eyes of Gnar.
A young yordle with boundless energy, Gnar and others like him lived openly among the hardy tribes of the northlands. Though barely big enough to leave footprints in the snow, his temper rivaled that of beasts ten times his size, and he would erupt with a babble of curses the moment anything went amiss. For this reason, he felt more kinship with the greater and wiser creatures, who kept their distance from mortals. To Gnar, they looked like overgrown, white-furred yordles… and that was good enough for him.
While the tribes foraged across the tundra, gathering wild berries and tasty moss, Gnar collected more essential items, like rocks, pebbles, and the muddy remains of dead birds. His greatest treasure was the jawbone of a drüvask. When he tugged it from the cold earth, he squealed with glee and flung it as far as he could.
It landed two hops away.
Thrilled by this early success, Gnar carried his “boomerang” wherever he went. The world would try its best to offer him new delights—shiny lint, sweet nectar, round things—but none could match the pure joy he felt in throwing and catching his cherished weapon. He now considered himself a hunter, and trailed herds of wild beasts that paid him no mind.
But even he could sense change coming to the land. The sky seemed darker. The winds felt colder. The mortal tribes who had once foraged together, now appeared to hunt each other…
The big white yordles would know what to do. Gnar would go to them.
Using all of his hunting skill, he tracked them into the snow-capped peaks of a vast mountain range, much farther than he had ever wandered before. As he approached unseen, he also saw more mortals than he could count. This was exciting, but no one else seemed too happy about it.
Then the ground shook, and split apart. For the first time in Gnar’s life, it seemed as though everyone else was throwing tantrums. The mortals yelled. The big yordles roared.
But the monster’s arrival silenced them all.
Heaving itself up from the newly opened abyss, it bore huge horns, whipping tentacles, and a single eye, burning with strange light that made the fur on Gnar’s back crawl. While some mortals fled at the sight, he began to feel an odd pain in his chest—it was like the thought of losing his boomerang, or never being hugged again. This horrible thing wanted to hurt his new friends.
And this made him angry. In that moment, Gnar truly raged.
All he could see was the monster. In a flash, he was in the air, leaping toward it. In one paw, he grasped a snowball… or so he thought. In fact, it was a boulder plucked from the mountainside, for Gnar had grown as large as the big white yordles. He would send this monster back where it came from, by walloping its face!
But the blow never landed. Gnar felt a chill colder than any winter, one that seemed to turn the air itself into ice—truly, this elemental magic froze him in place, biting through his shaggy fur. Everything, including the monster, became quiet. The yordle’s strength and anger melted away. A deep tiredness crept into his limbs, and he fell softly asleep.
Gnar napped for a long time. When he finally awoke, he shook the frost from his shoulders, breathing heavily. Everyone else was gone. With no monsters to fight and no friends to protect, he felt very small and alone again.
The land was very different, too. There was snow everywhere, blanketing everything as far as his wide eyes could see. Still, he let out a happy yelp when he saw his beloved boomerang lying beside him, and scurried away to find something to hunt.
Even now, Gnar has no grasp of what took place that fateful day, nor how he escaped. He simply marvels at the world before him, with so many oddities to collect and places to explore.
Gnar is an excitable yordle whose playful antics can erupt into a toddler’s outrage in an instant, transforming him into a massive beast bent on destruction. Frozen in True Ice for millennia, the curious creature broke free and now hops about a changed world he sees as exotic and wondrous. Delighted by danger, Gnar flings whatever he can at his enemies, be it his bonetooth boomerang... or an uprooted tree.
", "quote": "“Gnar!”", "quote-author": "Gnar" }, "headerImage": null } ], "explore-champions": [ { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2011-09-14T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Riven", "title": "the Exile", "section-title": "Riven", "slug": "riven", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "noxus", "image": { "title": "Riven_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/26bb1d87fa015cef986d05249f533426383e7198-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1047, "y": 2, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Riven_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/26bb1d87fa015cef986d05249f533426383e7198-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1047, "y": 2, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/riven", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/riven", "biography": { "full": "Built on perpetual conflict, Noxus has never had a shortage of war orphans. Her father lost to an unnamed battle and her mother to the girl’s own stubborn birth, Riven was raised on a farm run by the empire on the rocky hillsides of Trevale.
Physical strength and ferocious will kept the children alive and working on the hard scrap of land, but Riven hungered for more than simply bread on the table. She watched conscriptors from regional warbands visiting the farms, year after year, and in them, she saw a chance at the life she dreamed of. When she finally pledged the empire her strength, she knew Noxus would embrace her as the daughter she longed to be.
Riven proved a natural soldier. Young as she was, her years of hard labor allowed her to quickly master the weight of a longsword taller than herself. Her new family was forged in the heat of battle, and Riven saw her bond to her brothers- and sisters-in-arms as unbreakable.
So exceptional was her dedication to the empire, that Boram Darkwill himself recognized her with a runic blade of dark metal, enchanted by a pale sorceress within his court. The weapon was heavier than a kite shield and nearly as broad—perfectly suited to Riven’s tastes.
Not long after, the warhosts set sail for Ionia as part of the long-planned Noxian invasion.
As this new war dragged on, it became clear that Ionia would not kneel. Riven’s unit was assigned to escort another warband making its way through the embattled province of Navori. The warband’s leader, Emystan, had employed a Zaunite alchymist, eager to test a new kind of weapon. Across countless campaigns, Riven would gladly have given her life for Noxus, but now she saw something awry in these other soldiers—something that made her deeply uncomfortable. The fragile amphorae they carried on their wagons had no purpose on any battlefield she could imagine...
The two warbands met increasingly fierce resistance, as if even the land itself sought to defy them. During a heavy rain storm, with mud pouring down the hillsides, Riven and her warriors were stranded with their deadly cargo—and it was then that the Ionian fighters revealed themselves. Seeing the danger, Riven called to Emystan for support.
The only answer she received was a flaming arrow, fired out from the ridgeline, and Riven understood this was no longer a war to expand the borders of Noxus. It was to be a complete annihilation of the enemy, no matter the cost.
The wagon was hit straight on. Instinctively, Riven drew her sword, but it was too late to protect anyone but herself. Chemical fire burst from the ruptured containers, and screams filled the night—both Ionian and Noxian falling victim to an agonizing, gruesome death. Shielded from the scorching, poisonous mists by the magic of her blade, she bore unwilling witness to scenes of horror and betrayal that would haunt her forever.
For Riven, memories of the hours that followed come only in fragments, and nightmares. She bound her wounds. She mourned the dead. But, most of all, she came to hate the sword that saved her life. The words carved into its surface mocked her, reminding her of all she had lost. She would find a way to break it, severing her last tie to Noxus, before the dawn.
But when the blade was finally shattered, still she found no peace.
Stripped of the faith and conviction that had bolstered her entire life, Riven chose to exile herself, wandering Ionia’s battle-scarred landscape. When she finally returned to the village where she had broken the sword, it was revealed that her self-destructive needs had cost the life of their most revered elder... and yet Ionia embraced her with forgiveness.
Noxus was not nearly so merciful. Although the empire had long since withdrawn from the First Lands, it had not forgotten about Riven, or her runic blade. After fighting fiercely against those sent to bring her to justice, she refused to let any more Ionian blood be shed on her account, and surrendered herself to the charges of desertion leveled against her.
As she returns to Noxus in chains, Riven remains haunted. Though Darkwill is no more, and the empire is rumored to have evolved, she is uncertain what will become of her, or whether she will ever be made whole again.
", "short": "Once a swordmaster in the warhosts of Noxus, Riven rose through the ranks on the strength of her conviction and brutal efficiency, and was rewarded with a legendary runic blade and a warband of her own. However, on the Ionian front, Riven’s faith in her nation was tested and ultimately broken. She severed all ties to the empire, seeking to find her place in a shattered world, even as rumors abounded that Noxus had been reforged. Now forced to return in chains, she faces the judgment of her former homeland...", "quote": "“A warrior’s blade reflects the truth in their heart. Mine is black, and broken.”", "quote-author": "Riven" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2011-04-26T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Rumble", "title": "the Mechanized Menace", "section-title": "Rumble", "slug": "rumble", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "bandle-city", "image": { "title": "Rumble_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/96575d035661d8c3238a1a8f098aebefb5641862-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 968, "y": 6, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Rumble_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/96575d035661d8c3238a1a8f098aebefb5641862-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 968, "y": 6, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/rumble", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/rumble", "biography": { "full": "Even amongst yordles, Rumble was always the runt of the litter. As such, he was used to being bullied. In order to survive, he had to be scrappier and more resourceful than his peers. He developed a quick temper and a reputation for getting even, no matter who crossed him. This made him something of a loner, but he didn't mind. He liked to tinker, preferring the company of gadgets, and he could usually be found rummaging through the junkyard.
Rumble showed great potential as a mechanic, and his teachers recommended him for enrollment at the Yordle Academy of Science and Progress in Piltover. He may very well have become one of Heimerdinger's esteemed proteges, but Rumble refused to go. He believed that Heimerdinger and his associates were ''sellouts,'' trading superior yordle technology to humans for nothing more than a pat on the head while yordles remained the butt of their jokes.
When a group of human graduates from the Yordle Academy sailed to Bandle City to visit the place where their mentor was born and raised, Rumble couldn't resist the temptation to see them face-to-face (so to speak). He only intended to get a good look at the humans, but four hours and several choice words later, he returned home bruised and bloodied with an earful about how he was an embarrassment to ''enlightened'' yordles like Heimerdinger.
The next morning, Rumble left Bandle City without a word, and wasn't seen again for months. When he returned, he was at the helm of a clanking, mechanized monstrosity. He marched it to the center of town amidst dumbfounded onlookers and there announced that he would show the world what yordle-tech was really capable of achieving.
", "short": "Rumble is a young inventor with a temper. Using nothing more than his own two hands and a heap of scrap, the feisty yordle constructed a colossal mech suit outfitted with an arsenal of electrified harpoons and incendiary rockets. Though others may scoff and sneer at his junkyard creations, Rumble doesn't mind—after all, he's the one with the flamespitter.", "quote": "''Ugh, it's gonna take forever to scrape your face off my suit!''", "quote-author": "Rumble" }, "headerImage": null } ], "modules": [ { "slug": "new-dawn", "type": "featured-video", "featured-image": { "title": "new-dawn.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/93832ae431efa27ea21cdd46ffda767c2809e2e1-1912x811.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1229, "y": 350, "featured-champions": [] }, "title": "A New Dawn", "subtitle": "", "description": "Day breaks over a landscape consecrated by blood and steel. A battle begins as a new dawn rises.", "uri": "https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzHrjOMfHPY", "video": { "type": "video", "title": "", "subtitle": "", "description": [], "uri": "https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzHrjOMfHPY", "width": "", "height": "", "x": "", "y": "", "featured-champions": [] }, "release-date": "2014-07-22T15:00:00.000Z", "video-type": "cinematic", "featured-champions": [ { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2011-12-14T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Ahri", "title": "the Nine-Tailed Fox", "section-title": "Ahri", "slug": "ahri", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ionia", "image": { "title": "Ahri_Base_Final_v2.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/9e99dedf6a6e2c1e74bdfb81bd5a0a23b3ff4200-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1296, "y": 158, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Ahri_Base_Final_v2.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/9e99dedf6a6e2c1e74bdfb81bd5a0a23b3ff4200-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1296, "y": 158, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/ahri", "video": null, "races": [ { "name": "Vastaya", "slug": "vastaya" } ], "roles": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/ahri", "biography": { "full": "For most of her life, Ahri's origins were a mystery to her, the history of her vastayan tribe all but lost save for the twin gemstones she has carried her entire life.
\n\nAhri's earliest memories are of running with icefoxes in the northern reaches of Shon-Xan. Though she knew she was not one of them, they clearly saw her as something of a kindred spirit, and came to accept her within the pack.
\nIn that wild, predatory existence, Ahri nonetheless felt a deeper connection to the forests around her. In time, she came to understand that this was the magic of the vastaya that coursed through every fiber of her being, and the realm of spirits that lay beyond. With no one to teach her, instead she learned to call upon this power in her own ways—most often using it to quicken her reflexes in pursuit of prey. If she was careful and close enough, she also found she might soothe a panicked deer, so that it remained serene and calm even as she and her packmates sank their teeth into its flesh.
\nThe world of mortals was as distant and unsettling to Ahri as it was to the icefoxes, but she felt drawn to it for reasons she could not explain. Humans in particular were coarse, gruff creatures… and when a band of huntsmen camped nearby, Ahri watched them from afar as they went about their grim business.
\nWhen one of them was wounded by a stray arrow, Ahri could feel his life seeping away. Knowing nothing but the instincts of a predator, she savored the spirit essence leaving his body, and through it gained brief flashes of his memories—the lover he had lost in battle, and the children he had left behind when he came north. Ahri subtly pushed his emotions from fear to sorrow to joy, and comforted him with visions of a sun-soaked meadow as he died.
\nAfterward, she found that human words now came to her easily, like something from a half-remembered dream, and Ahri knew the time had come to leave the pack behind.
\nKeeping to the fringes of society, she felt more alive than ever. Her predatory nature remained, but she was caught up in a riot of new experiences, emotions, and customs across Ionia. Mortals, it seemed, also became fascinated by her in return—and she often used this to her advantage, draining their essence while charming them with recollections of beauty, hallucinations of deep longing, and occasionally dreams colored by raw sorrow.
\nShe grew drunk on memories that were not her own, and exhilarated in ending the lives of others even as she felt the grief and woe she brought to her victims. She experienced heartbreak and elation in tantalizing flashes that left her craving more. It was overwhelming, but she sensed her own power fading whenever she tried to stay away, and could not help but partake again and again…
\nIn time, she began to see herself as mortals did: a monster.
\nUntil one day, an artist stumbled upon her, hunched over a man as she drained his life essence from him. Where others would run, he stayed, offering his own life essence in exchange for her heart. For the first time in her life, Ahri let herself fall in love and be loved, wholly and completely.
\nTheir days passed in warmth and laughter, Ahri curbing her hunger by feeding on her lover. She was truly happy... until she lost control, draining her lover completely.
\nAhri fell into despair, her grief consuming her as she mourned the loss of the first and only person she's ever truly loved. The first and only person who ever truly loved her. Retreating even further from society, she became consumed with learning more about where she came from, in hopes that it would help her control her abilities.
\n\nWith her twin sunstones in hand, she set out in search of others like her, a journey that would take her out of Ionia and across Runeterra, eventually leading her to the discovery of her ancestors, the Vesani, a vastayan tribe that brought innovation and magic to the world before being wiped out.
\n\nInspired by their memories, Ahri has set off to travel the world in search of other remnants of the Vesani. She hopes to carry their legacy forward, bringing good into the world like they did. No longer burdened by the heavy weight of her regrets, she also hopes to finally leave her stolen memories behind and create new memories of her own making.
", "short": "Innately connected to the magic of the spirit realm, Ahri is a fox-like vastaya who can manipulate her prey's emotions and consume their essence—receiving flashes of their memory and insight from each soul she consumes. Once a powerful yet wayward predator, Ahri is now traveling the world in search of remnants of her ancestors while also trying to replace her stolen memories with ones of her own making.
", "quote": "“Human emotions can be more volatile than even the deepest magic.”", "quote-author": "Ahri" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-05-23T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Darius", "title": "the Hand of Noxus", "section-title": "Darius", "slug": "darius", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "noxus", "image": { "title": "Darius_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd6bd9efb4295687e683fd97d67a509d3ed6c26f-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 745, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Darius_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd6bd9efb4295687e683fd97d67a509d3ed6c26f-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 745, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/darius", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/darius", "biography": { "full": "Darius and his brother Draven grew up as orphans in the port city of Basilich. Darius struggled to provide for them both, constantly fighting with gangs of older urchins and anyone else who threatened his little brother—even the city guard. Every day on the streets was a battle for survival, and Darius earned more scars by his twelfth summer than some soldiers do in a lifetime.
After Basilich was seized by the expanding Noxian empire, the victorious commander Cyrus saw the strength in these defiant brothers, and they found a home within the ranks of his warhost. Over the years, they fought in many grueling campaigns of conquest from one end of the known world to the other, as well as crushing a number of rebellions against the throne.
Within the empire, anyone could rise to power, no matter their birth, culture, or background, and none embraced this ideal more fervently than Darius. From humble beginnings, he rose steadily through the ranks, always putting duty before all else, and garnering great respect for his aggression, discipline, and refusal to ever take a backward step. On the bloodsoaked fields of Dalamor Plain, he even beheaded a Noxian general after the coward ordered a retreat. Roaring in defiance and hefting his bloodied axe overhead, Darius rallied the scattered warbands and won a great and unexpected victory against a far more numerous foe.
He was rewarded with a senior command of his own, attracting many thousands of eager recruits from across the empire. Darius turned the majority away, accepting only the strongest, the most disciplined and iron-willed. Such was his fearsome notoriety, even in the lands beyond Noxus, that it was not uncommon for entire cities to surrender at the first sight of his banners.
After a grinding victory against the cloud-fortresses of the Varju, a proud warrior people who had resisted decades of Noxian aggression, Darius was named the Hand of Noxus by Emperor Boram Darkwill himself. Those who knew Darius best knew he craved neither power nor adulation—he wished merely to see Noxus triumph over all—so Darkwill ordered him and his warhosts far north into the Freljord, to finally bring the barbarian tribes to heel.
The campaign dragged on for years, ending in a bitter, icy stalemate. Darius narrowly survived assassination attempts, ambushes, and even capture by the vicious Winter’s Claw. He was growing weary of endless wars of attrition, and returned to Noxus to demand a reconsolidation of the military.
He marched his veterans into the capital, only to find that the emperor was dead, killed in a coup led by Jericho Swain. The act had been supported by many allies, including Darius’s own brother, Draven.
This was a difficult position. As Hand, many of the noble houses would expect Darius to avenge Darkwill, but he had known and greatly respected the disgraced general Swain, and had spoken against his discharge after the botched offensive in Ionia some years earlier. The oaths of the Hand were to Noxus, not any particular ruler, and Swain was a man who spoke honestly of his new vision for the empire. Darius realized this was a leader he was prepared to follow... but Swain had other ideas.
With the establishment of the Trifarix, three individuals would rule Noxus together, each embodying one principle of strength: Vision, Might, and Guile. Darius gladly accepted his place on this council, and pledged to raise a new, elite force—the Trifarian Legion, the most loyal and prestigious warriors the empire could produce—and lead the armies of Noxus into a glorious new age of conquest.
", "short": "There is no greater symbol of Noxian might than Darius, the nation’s most feared and battle-hardened leader. Rising from humble origins to become the Hand of Noxus, he cleaves through the empire’s enemies—many of them Noxians themselves. Knowing that he never doubts his cause is just, and never hesitates once his axe is raised, those who stand against the commander of the Trifarian Legion can expect no mercy.", "quote": "“History only remembers the victors. Stand with Noxus, and be remembered forever.”", "quote-author": "Darius" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-06-06T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Draven", "title": "the Glorious Executioner", "section-title": "Draven", "slug": "draven", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "noxus", "image": { "title": "Draven_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/1b9079d79643c08bc25c143418b96c5883d48b52-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1025, "y": 100, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Draven_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/1b9079d79643c08bc25c143418b96c5883d48b52-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1025, "y": 100, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/draven", "video": { "title": "draven-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/d0401bda8b06ded2817d6edeecb5be000345b7ea.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 1050, "y": 100, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/draven", "biography": { "full": "Even as an orphan on the streets of Basilich, Draven was headstrong and full of bravado, frequently getting into vicious brawls with older street children and shady underworld thugs. While supremely confident in his own ability—some would say overconfident—it is unlikely he would have survived childhood had it not been for his older brother, Darius, who invariably finished the fights Draven started.
When Basilich fell to the warhosts of Noxus, the brothers came to the attention of a captain named Cyrus, after Draven made an ill-considered attempt on his life. Impressed with their fighting spirit, Cyrus allowed them to join the Noxian ranks.
For years, the brothers fought as part of Cyrus’ warhost—yet while Darius took to this life easily, Draven grew steadily more bored. His martial skill was beyond question, but the daily drudgery of soldiering felt like too much effort for too little reward… and not enough personal glory.
Darius inevitably rose to command his own warband, and Draven joined him. However, if he thought that would be easier, or a way to achieve greater individual recognition, he was sorely disappointed.
Some say Draven chose to leave Darius’ command. Some say he was forced out. Either way, his skills were highly sought after as a champion and duelist, and he was enticed to join a succession of warbands during the occupation of Ionia, before ending up with a fairly respectable contract in the Reckoning pits.
For centuries, the gladiatorial Reckoners had performed a vital role in Noxus—punishing criminals and settling disputes between the noble houses—and Draven was determined to receive the riches, adoration, and renown he felt he deserved. However, with long, protracted wars on many fronts, the spectacle was beginning to lose its appeal for the common citizen. As the attention of the crowds drifted, Draven fell into a slump, spending more and more time in the seedier drinking halls and gambling dens of the capital.
He was washed-up and broke when the former general Jericho Swain found him.
Swain had a plan to reclaim Noxus’ lost glory, and needed Draven’s help to achieve it. Perhaps Swain only enlisted him as a way to ensure his brother Darius’ support after the fact. Regardless, Draven proved integral to Swain’s plan—to depose the Grand General himself, Boram Darkwill.
Standing triumphant with Swain, Draven smiled for the first time in months as the cheers of the Noxian people washed over him.
But duty called. In the days and weeks following this unprecedented coup, many among the noble elite refused to honor Swain’s succession, so they were sentenced to death in the arena.
One condemned man escaped his handlers ahead of his execution. Operating on pure instinct—as was ever his wont—Draven leapt from the high balcony and hurled a pair of axes at the fleeing man, cutting him down in a heartbeat. After a moment of stunned silence, the crowd roared their approval. Draven retrieved his axes, spinning them high in the air, playing to his new fans, and savoring their rapturous applause.
Thus Draven became the Glorious Executioner, turning routine bouts into grand spectacles that drew ever larger crowds.
Soon enough, an enterprising (and diminutive) promoter, tired of paying to house, feed, and train Reckoners only for them to die in front of dwindling audiences, approached Draven with an idea. What if the drama of the classic pit fights could be combined with Draven’s natural showmanship?
The Reckoners quickly became entertainers as much as combatants, each with their own carefully constructed backstory, fighting style, and flamboyant personality. The fights were often bloody—this was still Noxus after all—but far less often ended in death. The rivalries, trash-talking, and intrigue between the best-known Reckoners became the stuff of legend throughout the empire, but none were talked about more than Draven.
For a time he lived the high life, receiving invitations to a never-ending stream of parties and banquets, mixing with the wealthy and influential of Swain’s new Noxus. He even reconciled with Darius, and would occasionally still march out with the warhosts, defeating enemy champions and generals in single combat.
Nevertheless, Draven has started to grow restless once again. He has all that he could have ever imagined, and more, but now dreams of the day when the whole world knows his name.
", "short": "In Noxus, warriors known as reckoners face one another in arenas where blood is spilled and strength tested—but none has ever been as celebrated as Draven. A former soldier, he found that the crowds uniquely appreciated his flair for the dramatic, not to mention the spray of blood from each of his spinning axes. Addicted to the spectacle of his own brash perfection, Draven has sworn to defeat whomever he must to ensure that his name is chanted throughout the empire forever more.", "quote": "'' 'The best' is wherever I decide to set the bar each day.''", "quote-author": "Draven" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2011-07-13T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Leona", "title": "the Radiant Dawn", "section-title": "Leona", "slug": "leona", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "mount-targon", "image": { "title": "Leona_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd31d8599bfa6d1a64e1a6ecde13548356ea525c-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1061, "y": 41, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Leona_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd31d8599bfa6d1a64e1a6ecde13548356ea525c-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1061, "y": 41, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/leona", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/leona", "biography": { "full": "Among the Rakkor tribes that dwell upon Mount Targon, the sun is sacred, and none venerate it more than the Solari. Children are raised from birth to honor it, and even to shed blood for it, until its Aspect returns, heralding a grave threat they all must face.
Leona was one such child. She took to the Solari faith as naturally as breathing, finding solace and warmth within its rigid structure. This manifested through her rapid achievement of excellence, her peers envious of her capability, willpower, and devotion. None doubted she would one day become one of the Ra’Horak, the holy warriors of the Solari.
Though Leona flourished, she could not help but see her masters struggle with their most exasperating student, an orphan named Diana. Her curiosity was welcomed at first, but soon the teachers began to perceive Diana’s questions as challenging the Solari ways. Leona watched Diana suffer punishment and isolation—but where others saw insolence, she saw a lost soul devoted to a search for meaning.
Leona found her purpose in the Solari teachings, and resolved to share it with Diana as even the most dutiful teachers forsook her. The two would debate late into the night, with Leona hoping to persuade Diana that everything she could ever want was there in the faith, waiting for her to accept it. Though she failed to win Diana over, Leona did find a friend.
One night, Diana confided a secret to Leona. She spoke of discovering a hidden alcove in the mountain, an ancient place where the walls were etched with depictions of strange symbols and forgotten societies. When Diana mentioned climbing the summit of Mount Targon to learn more, Leona urged her to stop. Seeking to protect her from the ire of the other Solari, Leona made Diana promise to abandon this search. Reluctantly, Diana agreed.
Time passed, and the two never spoke of Diana’s discovery again. Leona believed her friend had finally come to her senses.
Her belief was shattered late one night, when she glimpsed Diana slipping out of the temple. While her first instinct was to tell the elders, Leona thought instead of protecting her friend, wresting her back from the edge. Resolved, Leona set off after Diana…
To the summit of Mount Targon.
The ascent was a trial unlike any Leona had ever endured, straining every fiber of her being to its limit, and beyond. Her training, willpower, and concern for Diana was all that drove her on. The unblinking eyes of bodies frozen into the mountain's slopes watched her climb, their own journeys forever incomplete, but not even they could deter her.
After what seemed an eternity—and much to her own amazement—Leona reached the peak.
Exhausted, she beheld an uncanny landscape, and found Diana engulfed in a coruscating column of silver light. Leona saw her friend’s silhouette writhing in agony, the air rippling with her screams. Horrified, Leona rushed to her aid, when a golden radiance slashed down from the heavens to envelop her.
The sensation was indescribable, but rather than incinerating Leona, the illumination coursed into her, suffusing her with incredible power. She clung to her consciousness, fighting the current seeking to sear away her very being.
Ultimately, her indomitable will triumphed—and with that control came understanding.
With control came understanding. Leona was forever changed, imbued by the Aspect of the Sun. Destiny had selected her, and it was her duty to protect the Solari in the times to come.
It was then that Leona saw Diana, clad in gleaming silver war-plate, a strange reflection of the golden armor she discovered herself now wearing. Diana begged Leona to join her, to seek out answers the Solari could not offer. Leona demanded they return home, and present themselves for the priests’ judgment. Neither conceded, and they finally felt the weight of the weapons in their hands.
Their combat was swift, a blistering clash between sun and moon, ending with Diana’s crescent blade at Leona’s throat. But, rather than delivering the killing blow, Diana fled. Devastated, Leona descended Targon and hurried to her elders.
When she arrived, she found slaughter. Many Solari priests and their Ra’Horak guardians were dead, seemingly slain by Diana’s hand. The survivors were awed by the presence of two Aspects now in their midst, and Leona was committed to helping them navigate this new reality—the guiding light to her people, just as the sun had always been.
She has sworn to find Diana, to preserve the dominance of the Solari... but also to help her old friend control the Moon Aspect’s power before it destroys her.
", "short": "Imbued with the fire of the sun, Leona is a holy warrior of the Solari who defends Mount Targon with her Zenith Blade and the Shield of Daybreak. Her skin shimmers with starfire while her eyes burn with the power of the celestial Aspect within her. Armored in gold and bearing a terrible burden of ancient knowledge, Leona brings enlightenment to some, death to others.", "quote": "“By the light of the Sun, the world is beheld.”", "quote-author": "Leona" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2011-10-19T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Graves", "title": "the Outlaw", "section-title": "Graves", "slug": "graves", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "bilgewater", "image": { "title": "Graves_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/e98c383d56b9f60ae73cf0a24653dba19a6556a1-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1021, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Graves_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/e98c383d56b9f60ae73cf0a24653dba19a6556a1-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1021, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/graves", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/graves", "biography": { "full": "Raised in the wharf alleys of Bilgewater, Malcolm Graves quickly learned how to fight and how to steal, skills that would serve him very well in all the years ahead. He could always find work hauling contraband up from the smugglers’ skiffs that came into the bay each night—with a tidy side-gig as hired muscle for various other unsavory local characters, as they went about their business in the port.
\nBut the alleys were small-time, and he craved more excitement than they could offer. Still little more than a youth, Graves stole a blunderbuss and smuggled himself aboard a ship headed out of Bilgewater to the Shuriman mainland, where he stole, lied, and gambled his way from place to place along the coast.
\nAcross the table of a high-stakes—and highly illegal—card game in Mudtown, Graves met a man who would change the course of his life, and his career: the trickster now known to many as Twisted Fate.
\nEach immediately saw in the other the same reckless passion for danger and adventure, and together they formed a most lucrative partnership. Between Graves’ raw brawn and Twisted Fate’s ability to talk his way out of (and occasionally back into) almost any situation, they were an unusually effective team from the outset. Their mutual sense of roguish honor grew into genuine trust, and together they stole from the rich, swindled the foolish, handpicked skilled crews for specific jobs, and sold out their rivals whenever they could.
\nThough at times Twisted Fate would blow all their shares and leave them with nothing to show for it, Graves knew that the thrill of some new escapade was always just around the corner…
\nOn the southern borderlands of Valoran, they set two renowned noble houses of Noxus at each other’s throats as cover for the rescue of a kidnapped heir. That they pocketed the reward money, only to ransom the vile young man to the highest bidder, should really have come as no surprise to their original employer. In Piltover, they still hold the distinction of being the only thieves ever to crack the supposedly impenetrable Clockwork Vault. Not only did the pair empty the vault of all its treasures, they also tricked the guards into loading the loot onto their hijacked schooner, for a quick getaway through the Sun Gates.
\nIn almost every case, only once they and their accomplices were safely over the horizon were their crimes even discovered—usually along with one of Twisted Fate’s trademark calling cards left where it would be easily found.
\nBut, eventually, their luck ran out.
\nDuring a heist that rapidly turned from complex to completely botched, Graves was taken by the local enforcers, while Twisted Fate merely turned tail and abandoned him.
\nThrown into the infamous prison known as the Locker, Graves endured years of torture and solitary confinement, during which time he nursed his bitter anger toward his old partner. A lesser man would surely have been broken by all this, but not Malcolm Graves. He was determined to have his revenge.
\nWhen he finally clawed his way to freedom, with the prison warden’s brand new shotgun slung over his shoulder, Graves began his long-overdue pursuit of Twisted Fate.
\nThe search led him back home to Bilgewater, where he found that the wily old cardsharp had acquired a few new bounties on his head—and Graves would be only too happy to claim them. However, just as he got Twisted Fate in his sights, they were forced to put aside their differences in order to escape almost certain death in the ongoing conflict between the reaver king Gangplank and his rival ship captains.
\nOnce again, Graves found himself escaping his hometown… only this time, he had his old friend in tow. While both of them might have liked to pick up their partnership where they left off all those years ago, such resentment couldn't simply be forgotten overnight, and it would be a while before Graves could bring himself to trust Twisted Fate again.
\nStill, he feels Bilgewater calling to him once more. Maybe this time around, the pair of them will find their stride and be able to pull off the ultimate heist…
", "short": "Malcolm Graves is a renowned mercenary, gambler, and thief—a wanted man in every city and empire he has visited. Even though he has an explosive temper, he possesses a sense of criminal honor, often enforced at the business end of his double-barreled shotgun Destiny. In recent years, he has reconciled a troubled partnership with Twisted Fate, and together they have prospered once more in the turmoil of Bilgewater’s criminal underbelly.", "quote": "“We’re here for your gold, not your heads… so don’t nobody decide to be a hero.”", "quote-author": "Graves" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2009-02-21T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Jax", "title": "Grandmaster at Arms", "section-title": "Jax", "slug": "jax", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "unaffiliated", "image": { "title": "jax_splash_new.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/a8d3b960b33b5850f5c3b8e65a0afb54fde80e11-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1320, "y": 350, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "jax_splash_new.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/a8d3b960b33b5850f5c3b8e65a0afb54fde80e11-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1320, "y": 350, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/jax", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/jax", "biography": { "full": "Saijax Cail-Rynx Icath’un grew up in Icathia, a satrapy of the Shuriman empire. Ever since he was a boy, his father told him of when their home was a proud, independent nation, before it was ground under the heel of Shuriman oppression. He told him of the Kohari, heroes who protected Icathia and its Mage King. The Mage King had resisted Shurima’s conquest, but when he died in battle, his Kohari protectors followed him, committing ritual suicide. The Shuriman emperor displayed the Kohari’s decaying bodies for all to see, and the Mage King himself was impaled above the city gates, his bones left to molder.
\nSaijax’s father had witnessed this cruel act, and over time he passed down to his son the burning resentment that was growing in every Icathian heart. Even so, Saijax committed himself to the study of arms, learning from Shurima’s weapons masters as well as his own clan’s elders.
\nAfter many centuries of Shuriman rule, a massive earthquake struck the coastal province of Saabera. The destruction revealed something hidden deep beneath the earth, something dark and of great power—perhaps strong enough even to overcome Shurima’s god-like Ascended warriors. Saijax was entrusted with protecting the Icathian mages who encountered this discovery… which the guards just barely contained with brazier-staves that blazed with conjured elemental fire. Disturbed, he escorted the mages to the governing council so they could tell of what they’d learned.
\nThey called this power the Void.
\nImmediately the council recognized its potential, but Saijax saw the doom the Void portended. As a master of weaponry, he knew the danger of using a weapon they could neither fully understand nor safely harness. He regretted that he didn’t kill the mages as they rode from Saabera. He would regret it even more in the days to come.
\nConfident that the Void could defeat their Shuriman overlords, the council crowned a new Mage King. The Kohari were rebuilt, with Saijax among the first to join their ranks. They triumphed in early engagements, and Saijax even killed one of the vaunted Ascended in battle, watching with pride as its corpse was paraded around the liberated city of Bai-Zhek.
\nWhen the Ascended Host approached Icathia, Saijax and his brethren assembled on the front lines. As the two armies churned the earth beneath them into crimson loam, Icathia’s mages and priests deemed the time had come to unleash the Void.
\nRuin swept over the land, as Icathians, Shurimans, and even Ascended were unraveled from existence. The city’s walls collapsed as the Void swallowed thousands into cold, silent oblivion.
\nIn moments, Icathia was lost.
\nSaijax rode to the ruined crater where the Void had been summoned, determined to fall upon his sword like the Kohari of old. But before he could take his life, he saw among the devastation a discarded brazier-stave that he recognized from Saabera—it still blazed with elemental fire that harmed the Void. This flame kindled a spark in Saijax’s heart. He took up the stave and left behind the ruins of his homeland, tending to this “last light of Icathia”, and the hope it represented.
\nGrieving and ashamed, Saijax Cail-Rynx Kohari Icath’un forsook his old name, and from that day was known only as Jax.
\nHe became a wanderer, traveling across the known world and to places beyond any map. As he bore the elemental fire, Jax’s life extended beyond even the expectations of his long-lived people. Yet the farther he went from Icathia, the lower the flame burned, until it threatened to gutter out once and for all. Jax understood with grim resolution that he couldn’t run from his past. He had a duty to return, and fight. The advance of the Void had been halted by the last surviving Ascended, but its singular threat endured.
\nFor centuries since, Jax has roamed, a vagabond warrior searching for those strong enough to rebuild the Kohari. Though he has fought countless times against beings of great skill, courage, and power, none have yet convinced him that they can march against the coming darkness. The fall of Icathia has plagued Jax with doubt, but one thing remains certain: when the final battle comes, Jax will stand against the Void.
\nEven if he has to face it alone.
", "short": "Runeterra’s greatest weapons master, Jax is the only survivor of the Kohari—champions sworn to the defense of Icathia. But when the Void was unleashed against the Shuriman empire’s Ascended Host, Icathia was destroyed, leaving Jax without a home or purpose. He gathered the “last light of Icathia”, a symbol of his hope to one day defeat the Void, and now travels the world, searching for warriors strong enough to face the coming darkness by his side.", "quote": "“Strength and will are what make a weapon.”", "quote-author": "Jax" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2009-09-19T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Katarina", "title": "the Sinister Blade", "section-title": "Katarina", "slug": "katarina", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "noxus", "image": { "title": "Katarina_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0b61440f72501d55b2a1b02752b74c28680ee09d-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 822, "y": 356, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Katarina_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0b61440f72501d55b2a1b02752b74c28680ee09d-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 822, "y": 356, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/katarina", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/katarina", "biography": { "full": "Born to one of the most respected noble families of Noxus, Katarina Du Couteau found herself elevated above others from an early age. While her younger sister Cassiopeia took after their politically brilliant mother, Katarina was very much her father’s daughter, and the wily General Du Couteau pushed her to learn the way of the blade; to cut away the empire’s enemies not with reckless brutality, but deadly precision. He was a harsh teacher with many pupils, and notoriously difficult to impress.
So it was that Katarina’s childhood—if it can be called such—had little room for kindness or rest. She spent every waking moment honing herself into the ultimate weapon, testing her endurance, her dexterity, her tolerance for pain. She stole poisons from the city’s least reputable apothecaries, testing their efficacy in tiny increments upon herself, gradually building her resistance even as she catalogued their effects. She scaled the tallest towers in the dead of night, unseen by anyone.
She yearned to do her part for Noxus. She yearned for the opportunity to demonstrate her hidden strengths in service of the empire, and the throne.
Her first mark came straight from her father, camped with his warbands on the eve of one of the military’s innumerable westward invasions… She was to assassinate a line officer of the opposing army, a low-born wretch by the name of Demetrius.
Katarina was livid. She hadn’t trained her entire life to have her talents wasted on some dungheel barely skilled enough to swing a sword! He simply wouldn’t do. Instead of her assigned target, Katarina stole into the enemy camp and slit the enemy commander’s throat as he slept. It was a flawless execution. It would bring a swift victory, and glory to Noxus. It would make her father proud.
At dawn, his face daubed with ashes, the vengeful hero Demetrius led a berzerk charge into her father’s encampment. Dozens of Noxian soldiers were slaughtered, along with the general’s personal retinue. Katarina’s father himself barely escaped with his life.
He was furious beyond words, refusing even to look his daughter in the eye. She had shamed him, and their family name. The greatest assassins do not seek recognition or glory, he reminded her. They do not expect to occupy a place of honor at their master’s right hand.
Overwhelmed, Katarina struck out into the wilderness, alone. She would complete her original mission. Demetrius would pay with his life. Even so, her mind swam. Could she ever forgive herself? How had she been so foolish?
She was so distracted, she didn’t see her attacker until he had nearly taken her eye out.
For Katarina’s failure, General Du Couteau had sent another of his protégés after her; a nameless whelp dragged up from one of the lesser assassins’ guilds. But even with blood streaming down her face, the years of rigorous training kicked in, and her blades were in her hands in an instant.
Six hours later, she tossed Demetrius’s severed head at her father’s feet.
She told the general she had considered taking his head instead, but eventually decided—as much as she hated to admit it—that he had done the right thing in ordering her death. She had failed. Not just as an assassin, or as a daughter, but as a Noxian.
And failure must have its consequences. She ran her fingers along the raw, deep gash over her left eye, and thought of the price others had paid for her arrogance.
She knew she had lost her father’s favor, and could never regain it. He would raise others in her place, simply to spite her. Still, she vowed to redeem herself, no matter the cost—to rededicate her talents to the empire, and to become the sinister weapon she always intended to be.
", "short": "Decisive in judgment and lethal in combat, Katarina is a Noxian assassin of the highest caliber. Eldest daughter to the legendary General Du Couteau, she made her talents known with swift kills against unsuspecting enemies. Her fiery ambition has driven her to pursue heavily-guarded targets, even at the risk of endangering her allies—but no matter the mission, Katarina will not hesitate to execute her duty amid a whirlwind of serrated daggers.", "quote": "''Never question my loyalty. You will never know what I endure for it.''", "quote-author": "Katarina" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-02-14T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Nautilus", "title": "the Titan of the Depths", "section-title": "Nautilus", "slug": "nautilus", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "bilgewater", "image": { "title": "Nautilus_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0381e43e608994c7c4cd30b4bea8b2af00b44401-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1075, "y": 4, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Nautilus_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0381e43e608994c7c4cd30b4bea8b2af00b44401-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1075, "y": 4, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/nautilus", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/nautilus", "biography": { "full": "To understand the legend of Nautilus, one must first know the man—for even the tallest of tavern tales agree, he was indeed a man.
Though the waves have washed away the name he was born with, most remember Nautilus as no mere sailor, but as a salvage diver. Just beyond the southernmost reach of the Blue Flame Isles lies a graveyard of ships, rumored lost while searching for a blessed land, looking to trade wealth for immortality. On a fair day, their glittering holds beckon from beneath the surface. Many crews sought divers to collect the lost fortune, and none could match the skill of the quick-sinking hulk of solid muscle that was Nautilus.
With lungs that could steal the air from a galleon’s sails, Nautilus preferred to freedive. Always bringing up plenty of gold or jewels for the crew, the man demanded no special wages—he asked only that the captain toss a coin overboard as they set out, honoring and appeasing the vast ocean. A sailor’s superstition to be sure, but many a sea-fearing crew made such offerings to ensure a safe return.
Years of salvage depleted the easy treasure, each haul becoming less and less, until one day Nautilus’s crew learned that their ship and working papers had been bought out from under them.
The dawn was scarlet the morning the new captain came aboard. Hailing from a foreign port, he brought with him a giant suit of brass and iron. He zeroed in on Nautilus; indeed, he had purchased the command because of Nautilus. It was clear the captain was obsessed with a specific wreck, one shrouded in darkness even on a fair day. The diving armor could withstand the pressures of the ocean floor far longer than any man, long enough to collect what was hidden in the abnormal murk.
The crew agreed working was better than starving, and Nautilus found himself being bolted into the suit, the wooden deck groaning under the load. Panic rose in his throat when he realized that they had nothing to pay the tithe. The foreign captain laughed as Nautilus was lowered into the water. He assured the crew that whatever the Bearded Lady was protecting would make them all rich beyond their wildest dreams. When Nautilus returned to the surface, they would make their silly sacrifice.
As Nautilus sank, the light above dimmed, and all grew quiet, the man’s own breath the only sound echoing in the iron suit. Then something reached out from the depths. He was being pulled down, and for the first time Nautilus felt liquid fear wrap itself around his heart. It was not treasure his captain sought, but some slumbering, eldritch power.
Nautilus grabbed the anchor chain, his last connection to the world above, and hauled himself up even as the thing below sought to drag him down. But the weight was too much. Just as his giant metal fingers were about to breach the surface, the chain snapped. Nautilus screamed within the suit, but none could hear him. He tumbled back into the inky maelstrom, clutching the sinking anchor in desperation. Dark tendrils enveloped him, and he could only watch as the dimming outline of his ship faded away. Then everything went black.
When Nautilus awoke on the ocean floor, he was something… different. The darkness could no longer hurt him. The great metal suit had become a seamless shell around him, concealing the bond that the primordial power had made with his spirit. Trapped in the sunless depths, he could remember only one thing—the new captain’s broken promise.
Nautilus vowed, there and then, that all would pay the ocean’s tithe. He would see to it himself.
Driven ever forward by this thought, he trudged toward the shore. But by the time he reached Bilgewater, years had passed, and he could find no traces of his captain or crew. There was no life to which he could return, no revenge he could take. Instead he returned to the sea, allowing his anger to surface on the greedy, gutting their ships with his mighty anchor.
Sometimes, in the tumble of waves, distant memories of who he was push up above the waterline… but always the man who is Nautilus stays drowned just below the surface.
", "short": "A lonely legend as old as the first piers sunk in Bilgewater, the armored goliath known as Nautilus roams the dark waters off the coast of the Blue Flame Isles. Driven by a forgotten betrayal, he strikes without warning, swinging his enormous anchor to save the wretched, and drag the greedy to their doom. It is said he comes for those who forget to pay the “Bilgewater tithe”, pulling them down beneath the waves with him—an iron-clad reminder that none can escape the depths.", "quote": "''When consumed by utter darkness, there is nothing left but forward.''", "quote-author": "Nautilus" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-08-21T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Rengar", "title": "the Pridestalker", "section-title": "Rengar", "slug": "rengar", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ixtal", "image": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/rengar", "video": { "title": "rengar-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/1d6b5b19b0a0c99fae110db5a04aa46ff3b29baf.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [ { "name": "Vastaya", "slug": "vastaya" } ], "roles": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/rengar", "biography": { "full": "Rengar hails from a tribe of Shuriman vastaya known as the Kiilash, whose society venerated the honor and glory of the hunt. Rengar was born the runt of the litter to the tribe's chieftain, Ponjaf. Ponjaf believed Rengar's diminutive size would make him a worthless hunter. He ignored his child, assuming the runt would starve to death.
Eventually, the young Rengar fled the camp, ashamed that he had disappointed his father. He subsisted on grubs and plants for weeks until, one day, he was nearly killed by a legendary human hunter named Markon. Upon seeing Rengar's state, he took pity on the creature and let it live. Besides, this was no mighty vastayan warrior worthy of Markon's blade.
Rengar spent months following Markon, feeding off the corpses the hunter left behind. He still hoped to one day rejoin his tribe, and so took great care in observing how Markon took down his quarries.
After some time, Markon grew sick of the pathetic Kiilash following him around. He put a knife to Rengar's throat and informed him that the only way to be a hunter was to hunt. He tossed Rengar the blade and kicked him down a ravine, where he was forced to make his first kill to survive.
From then on, Rengar spent years pushing himself almost to breaking point. He scoured Shurima for the most powerful and dangerous prey. Though he would never be as big as other Kiilash, Rengar was determined to be twice as ferocious. Over time, instead of coming back to his camp each time with fresh scars, he began to come back with trophies. He polished a sandhawk's skull to a sheen; he braided the teeth of a shrieker into his hair.
Then, when he decided the time had come, Rengar returned to his tribe, ready to be accepted as a true hunter.
Ponjaf scoffed at Rengar and his trophies. He decreed that only by bringing back the head of the elusive and legendary Void-abomination known as Kha'Zix would Rengar be welcomed back into the tribe.
Blinded by his eagerness, Rengar allowed this cunning beast to get the drop on him. The Void creature ripped out one of Rengar's eyes and escaped. Furious and defeated, Rengar admitted his failure to Ponjaf. As expected, his father chastised him.
But as Ponjaf spoke, Rengar noticed all the trophies adorning his father's hut were dusty and old. The chieftain had not hunted anything in a long time—he had likely sent Rengar after Kha'Zix because he was too afraid to do it himself.
Rengar interrupted his father and called him a coward. Many Kiilash were blessed with strong bodies or comfortable homes. Rengar, conversely, was born facing death. He had taught himself how to hunt, and had the trophies and scars to prove it. Even his own bloody eye socket was a trophy: proof that though Rengar was born with disadvantages, he never gave up.
Rengar leapt onto his father and gutted him from neck to belly. The fiercest hunters of the tribe crowned him with flame-roses, marking him as their new chieftain.
But Rengar didn't need his village's acceptance. All he needed was adrenaline pumping through his veins as he chased down his prey. He left the village, without even pausing to take a trophy from what was left of Ponjaf—his father was not a kill worthy of remembering. Instead, he set off determined to find and slay the Void creature that had tried to blind him.
Not to satisfy the Kiilash, but to satisfy himself.
", "short": "Rengar is a ferocious vastayan trophy hunter who lives for the thrill of tracking down and killing dangerous creatures. He scours the world for the most fearsome beasts he can find, especially seeking any trace of Kha’Zix, the void creature who scratched out his eye. Rengar stalks his prey neither for food nor glory, but for the sheer beauty of the pursuit.", "quote": "“Prey on the weak and you may survive. Prey on the strong and you will truly live.”", "quote-author": "Rengar" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-07-24T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Zyra", "title": "Rise of the Thorns", "section-title": "Zyra", "slug": "zyra", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ixtal", "image": { "title": "Zyra_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/35938ca5eed918f72a683ee4ce8fce265cdf2a53-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1070, "y": 38, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Zyra_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/35938ca5eed918f72a683ee4ce8fce265cdf2a53-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1070, "y": 38, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/zyra", "video": { "title": "zyra-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/374f35f73d16ac029e6f67b3c399f8094d92109b.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 1070, "y": 38, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/zyra", "biography": { "full": "Zyra’s memory is long, and runs as deep as the roots of the earth. Her kind was young when the Rune Wars raged, when mortal armies fought one another for the very keys of creation.
Hidden in the jungles south of Kumungu, somewhere between the great rivers that divide eastern Shurima, lay the fabled Gardens of Zyr. Elemental magics had turned the soil there in strange and unpredictable ways, giving rise to fierce, carnivorous plants that preyed upon any creature that strayed within reach. They infested and they devoured, caring nothing for the squabbles of mortals, content merely to coil their vines through the forests and swamplands. In their own way, they were all Zyra… and nourishment was plentiful, even in the midst of war.
A small company of soldiers, their allegiance long since lost to time, advanced through those lands in search of some now-forgotten prize. They were led by an ambitious sorceress—but they were far from home, bound to succumb to the noxious fumes and spores of that accursed place.
The denizens of the Gardens set upon them, spined tendrils lashing through armor and flesh with sadistic ease. Though they fought valiantly, the warriors knew they could not hold out long, and turned to their sorceress to save them. Gathering her powers, she wrought a mighty blast. The air burned with runic symbols, casting their eerie light even as the thorny overgrowth closed in.
In that very instant, a rogue spark ignited the gases of the swamp, and the resulting magical explosion obliterated every living thing for miles around. Of the scattered survivors of the Rune Wars, none would ever know what fate had befallen the Gardens of Zyr.
Centuries passed. The land where the battle had been fought lay empty and lifeless above ground… but in the depths, something stirred. Long had the energies that were unleashed there settled, and curdled, nourished by the fallout. A seedpod bulged, pulsing with unnatural life, until a creature clawed its way free, gasping and confused.
It beheld a broken and changed world, brimming with new vitality and new ideas. Its mind was a puzzle of conflicting memories, drawn from the loamy earth and forced into its fledgling consciousness. It could recall the warmth of the sun, the taste of rain, words of power, and the agony of a hundred mortal deaths.
It—she—called herself Zyra, without quite understanding why.
As she ventured out into the wildlands beyond her birthplace, Zyra knew she was different from other creatures she encountered. Mortals were fearful and unpleasant things, while more ethereal entities tended to be capricious, or arrogant. None of them seemed to respect the realms they inhabited, despoiling everything with their mere presence, and that filled Zyra with rage and contempt. Almost unbidden, new life sprang up in her footsteps—voracious plant forms that changed and evolved beneath her gaze, hurling poisonous barbs or sprouting fresh tendrils at an alarming rate.
Unrooted and free to wander, Zyra and her deadly progeny feed, and grow, strangling all other life from the world. She has blighted farmland, overrun entire settlements, and crushed those warriors brave or foolish enough to confront her, always leaving a menagerie of botanical horrors in her wake.
As the rivers of Shurima begin to run anew, strange flora has been sighted on their banks, spreading slowly westward with each passing season. Whether pulled from the earth or purged by fire, the growth does not seem to be slowing…
", "short": "Born in an ancient, sorcerous catastrophe, Zyra is the wrath of nature given form—an alluring hybrid of plant and human, kindling new life with every step. She views the many mortals of Valoran as little more than prey for her seeded progeny, and thinks nothing of slaying them with flurries of deadly spines. Though her true purpose has not been revealed, Zyra wanders the world, indulging her most primal urges to colonize, and strangle all other life from it.", "quote": "“Where are your friends? Mine are all around…”", "quote-author": "Zyra" }, "headerImage": null } ], "related-champions": [ { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2011-12-14T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Ahri", "title": "the Nine-Tailed Fox", "section-title": "Ahri", "slug": "ahri", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ionia", "image": { "title": "Ahri_Base_Final_v2.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/9e99dedf6a6e2c1e74bdfb81bd5a0a23b3ff4200-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1296, "y": 158, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Ahri_Base_Final_v2.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/9e99dedf6a6e2c1e74bdfb81bd5a0a23b3ff4200-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1296, "y": 158, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/ahri", "video": null, "races": [ { "name": "Vastaya", "slug": "vastaya" } ], "roles": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/ahri", "biography": { "full": "For most of her life, Ahri's origins were a mystery to her, the history of her vastayan tribe all but lost save for the twin gemstones she has carried her entire life.
\n\nAhri's earliest memories are of running with icefoxes in the northern reaches of Shon-Xan. Though she knew she was not one of them, they clearly saw her as something of a kindred spirit, and came to accept her within the pack.
\nIn that wild, predatory existence, Ahri nonetheless felt a deeper connection to the forests around her. In time, she came to understand that this was the magic of the vastaya that coursed through every fiber of her being, and the realm of spirits that lay beyond. With no one to teach her, instead she learned to call upon this power in her own ways—most often using it to quicken her reflexes in pursuit of prey. If she was careful and close enough, she also found she might soothe a panicked deer, so that it remained serene and calm even as she and her packmates sank their teeth into its flesh.
\nThe world of mortals was as distant and unsettling to Ahri as it was to the icefoxes, but she felt drawn to it for reasons she could not explain. Humans in particular were coarse, gruff creatures… and when a band of huntsmen camped nearby, Ahri watched them from afar as they went about their grim business.
\nWhen one of them was wounded by a stray arrow, Ahri could feel his life seeping away. Knowing nothing but the instincts of a predator, she savored the spirit essence leaving his body, and through it gained brief flashes of his memories—the lover he had lost in battle, and the children he had left behind when he came north. Ahri subtly pushed his emotions from fear to sorrow to joy, and comforted him with visions of a sun-soaked meadow as he died.
\nAfterward, she found that human words now came to her easily, like something from a half-remembered dream, and Ahri knew the time had come to leave the pack behind.
\nKeeping to the fringes of society, she felt more alive than ever. Her predatory nature remained, but she was caught up in a riot of new experiences, emotions, and customs across Ionia. Mortals, it seemed, also became fascinated by her in return—and she often used this to her advantage, draining their essence while charming them with recollections of beauty, hallucinations of deep longing, and occasionally dreams colored by raw sorrow.
\nShe grew drunk on memories that were not her own, and exhilarated in ending the lives of others even as she felt the grief and woe she brought to her victims. She experienced heartbreak and elation in tantalizing flashes that left her craving more. It was overwhelming, but she sensed her own power fading whenever she tried to stay away, and could not help but partake again and again…
\nIn time, she began to see herself as mortals did: a monster.
\nUntil one day, an artist stumbled upon her, hunched over a man as she drained his life essence from him. Where others would run, he stayed, offering his own life essence in exchange for her heart. For the first time in her life, Ahri let herself fall in love and be loved, wholly and completely.
\nTheir days passed in warmth and laughter, Ahri curbing her hunger by feeding on her lover. She was truly happy... until she lost control, draining her lover completely.
\nAhri fell into despair, her grief consuming her as she mourned the loss of the first and only person she's ever truly loved. The first and only person who ever truly loved her. Retreating even further from society, she became consumed with learning more about where she came from, in hopes that it would help her control her abilities.
\n\nWith her twin sunstones in hand, she set out in search of others like her, a journey that would take her out of Ionia and across Runeterra, eventually leading her to the discovery of her ancestors, the Vesani, a vastayan tribe that brought innovation and magic to the world before being wiped out.
\n\nInspired by their memories, Ahri has set off to travel the world in search of other remnants of the Vesani. She hopes to carry their legacy forward, bringing good into the world like they did. No longer burdened by the heavy weight of her regrets, she also hopes to finally leave her stolen memories behind and create new memories of her own making.
", "short": "Innately connected to the magic of the spirit realm, Ahri is a fox-like vastaya who can manipulate her prey's emotions and consume their essence—receiving flashes of their memory and insight from each soul she consumes. Once a powerful yet wayward predator, Ahri is now traveling the world in search of remnants of her ancestors while also trying to replace her stolen memories with ones of her own making.
", "quote": "“Human emotions can be more volatile than even the deepest magic.”", "quote-author": "Ahri" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-05-23T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Darius", "title": "the Hand of Noxus", "section-title": "Darius", "slug": "darius", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "noxus", "image": { "title": "Darius_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd6bd9efb4295687e683fd97d67a509d3ed6c26f-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 745, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Darius_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd6bd9efb4295687e683fd97d67a509d3ed6c26f-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 745, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/darius", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/darius", "biography": { "full": "Darius and his brother Draven grew up as orphans in the port city of Basilich. Darius struggled to provide for them both, constantly fighting with gangs of older urchins and anyone else who threatened his little brother—even the city guard. Every day on the streets was a battle for survival, and Darius earned more scars by his twelfth summer than some soldiers do in a lifetime.
After Basilich was seized by the expanding Noxian empire, the victorious commander Cyrus saw the strength in these defiant brothers, and they found a home within the ranks of his warhost. Over the years, they fought in many grueling campaigns of conquest from one end of the known world to the other, as well as crushing a number of rebellions against the throne.
Within the empire, anyone could rise to power, no matter their birth, culture, or background, and none embraced this ideal more fervently than Darius. From humble beginnings, he rose steadily through the ranks, always putting duty before all else, and garnering great respect for his aggression, discipline, and refusal to ever take a backward step. On the bloodsoaked fields of Dalamor Plain, he even beheaded a Noxian general after the coward ordered a retreat. Roaring in defiance and hefting his bloodied axe overhead, Darius rallied the scattered warbands and won a great and unexpected victory against a far more numerous foe.
He was rewarded with a senior command of his own, attracting many thousands of eager recruits from across the empire. Darius turned the majority away, accepting only the strongest, the most disciplined and iron-willed. Such was his fearsome notoriety, even in the lands beyond Noxus, that it was not uncommon for entire cities to surrender at the first sight of his banners.
After a grinding victory against the cloud-fortresses of the Varju, a proud warrior people who had resisted decades of Noxian aggression, Darius was named the Hand of Noxus by Emperor Boram Darkwill himself. Those who knew Darius best knew he craved neither power nor adulation—he wished merely to see Noxus triumph over all—so Darkwill ordered him and his warhosts far north into the Freljord, to finally bring the barbarian tribes to heel.
The campaign dragged on for years, ending in a bitter, icy stalemate. Darius narrowly survived assassination attempts, ambushes, and even capture by the vicious Winter’s Claw. He was growing weary of endless wars of attrition, and returned to Noxus to demand a reconsolidation of the military.
He marched his veterans into the capital, only to find that the emperor was dead, killed in a coup led by Jericho Swain. The act had been supported by many allies, including Darius’s own brother, Draven.
This was a difficult position. As Hand, many of the noble houses would expect Darius to avenge Darkwill, but he had known and greatly respected the disgraced general Swain, and had spoken against his discharge after the botched offensive in Ionia some years earlier. The oaths of the Hand were to Noxus, not any particular ruler, and Swain was a man who spoke honestly of his new vision for the empire. Darius realized this was a leader he was prepared to follow... but Swain had other ideas.
With the establishment of the Trifarix, three individuals would rule Noxus together, each embodying one principle of strength: Vision, Might, and Guile. Darius gladly accepted his place on this council, and pledged to raise a new, elite force—the Trifarian Legion, the most loyal and prestigious warriors the empire could produce—and lead the armies of Noxus into a glorious new age of conquest.
", "short": "There is no greater symbol of Noxian might than Darius, the nation’s most feared and battle-hardened leader. Rising from humble origins to become the Hand of Noxus, he cleaves through the empire’s enemies—many of them Noxians themselves. Knowing that he never doubts his cause is just, and never hesitates once his axe is raised, those who stand against the commander of the Trifarian Legion can expect no mercy.", "quote": "“History only remembers the victors. Stand with Noxus, and be remembered forever.”", "quote-author": "Darius" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-06-06T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Draven", "title": "the Glorious Executioner", "section-title": "Draven", "slug": "draven", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "noxus", "image": { "title": "Draven_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/1b9079d79643c08bc25c143418b96c5883d48b52-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1025, "y": 100, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Draven_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/1b9079d79643c08bc25c143418b96c5883d48b52-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1025, "y": 100, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/draven", "video": { "title": "draven-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/d0401bda8b06ded2817d6edeecb5be000345b7ea.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 1050, "y": 100, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/draven", "biography": { "full": "Even as an orphan on the streets of Basilich, Draven was headstrong and full of bravado, frequently getting into vicious brawls with older street children and shady underworld thugs. While supremely confident in his own ability—some would say overconfident—it is unlikely he would have survived childhood had it not been for his older brother, Darius, who invariably finished the fights Draven started.
When Basilich fell to the warhosts of Noxus, the brothers came to the attention of a captain named Cyrus, after Draven made an ill-considered attempt on his life. Impressed with their fighting spirit, Cyrus allowed them to join the Noxian ranks.
For years, the brothers fought as part of Cyrus’ warhost—yet while Darius took to this life easily, Draven grew steadily more bored. His martial skill was beyond question, but the daily drudgery of soldiering felt like too much effort for too little reward… and not enough personal glory.
Darius inevitably rose to command his own warband, and Draven joined him. However, if he thought that would be easier, or a way to achieve greater individual recognition, he was sorely disappointed.
Some say Draven chose to leave Darius’ command. Some say he was forced out. Either way, his skills were highly sought after as a champion and duelist, and he was enticed to join a succession of warbands during the occupation of Ionia, before ending up with a fairly respectable contract in the Reckoning pits.
For centuries, the gladiatorial Reckoners had performed a vital role in Noxus—punishing criminals and settling disputes between the noble houses—and Draven was determined to receive the riches, adoration, and renown he felt he deserved. However, with long, protracted wars on many fronts, the spectacle was beginning to lose its appeal for the common citizen. As the attention of the crowds drifted, Draven fell into a slump, spending more and more time in the seedier drinking halls and gambling dens of the capital.
He was washed-up and broke when the former general Jericho Swain found him.
Swain had a plan to reclaim Noxus’ lost glory, and needed Draven’s help to achieve it. Perhaps Swain only enlisted him as a way to ensure his brother Darius’ support after the fact. Regardless, Draven proved integral to Swain’s plan—to depose the Grand General himself, Boram Darkwill.
Standing triumphant with Swain, Draven smiled for the first time in months as the cheers of the Noxian people washed over him.
But duty called. In the days and weeks following this unprecedented coup, many among the noble elite refused to honor Swain’s succession, so they were sentenced to death in the arena.
One condemned man escaped his handlers ahead of his execution. Operating on pure instinct—as was ever his wont—Draven leapt from the high balcony and hurled a pair of axes at the fleeing man, cutting him down in a heartbeat. After a moment of stunned silence, the crowd roared their approval. Draven retrieved his axes, spinning them high in the air, playing to his new fans, and savoring their rapturous applause.
Thus Draven became the Glorious Executioner, turning routine bouts into grand spectacles that drew ever larger crowds.
Soon enough, an enterprising (and diminutive) promoter, tired of paying to house, feed, and train Reckoners only for them to die in front of dwindling audiences, approached Draven with an idea. What if the drama of the classic pit fights could be combined with Draven’s natural showmanship?
The Reckoners quickly became entertainers as much as combatants, each with their own carefully constructed backstory, fighting style, and flamboyant personality. The fights were often bloody—this was still Noxus after all—but far less often ended in death. The rivalries, trash-talking, and intrigue between the best-known Reckoners became the stuff of legend throughout the empire, but none were talked about more than Draven.
For a time he lived the high life, receiving invitations to a never-ending stream of parties and banquets, mixing with the wealthy and influential of Swain’s new Noxus. He even reconciled with Darius, and would occasionally still march out with the warhosts, defeating enemy champions and generals in single combat.
Nevertheless, Draven has started to grow restless once again. He has all that he could have ever imagined, and more, but now dreams of the day when the whole world knows his name.
", "short": "In Noxus, warriors known as reckoners face one another in arenas where blood is spilled and strength tested—but none has ever been as celebrated as Draven. A former soldier, he found that the crowds uniquely appreciated his flair for the dramatic, not to mention the spray of blood from each of his spinning axes. Addicted to the spectacle of his own brash perfection, Draven has sworn to defeat whomever he must to ensure that his name is chanted throughout the empire forever more.", "quote": "'' 'The best' is wherever I decide to set the bar each day.''", "quote-author": "Draven" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2011-07-13T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Leona", "title": "the Radiant Dawn", "section-title": "Leona", "slug": "leona", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "mount-targon", "image": { "title": "Leona_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd31d8599bfa6d1a64e1a6ecde13548356ea525c-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1061, "y": 41, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Leona_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd31d8599bfa6d1a64e1a6ecde13548356ea525c-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1061, "y": 41, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/leona", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/leona", "biography": { "full": "Among the Rakkor tribes that dwell upon Mount Targon, the sun is sacred, and none venerate it more than the Solari. Children are raised from birth to honor it, and even to shed blood for it, until its Aspect returns, heralding a grave threat they all must face.
Leona was one such child. She took to the Solari faith as naturally as breathing, finding solace and warmth within its rigid structure. This manifested through her rapid achievement of excellence, her peers envious of her capability, willpower, and devotion. None doubted she would one day become one of the Ra’Horak, the holy warriors of the Solari.
Though Leona flourished, she could not help but see her masters struggle with their most exasperating student, an orphan named Diana. Her curiosity was welcomed at first, but soon the teachers began to perceive Diana’s questions as challenging the Solari ways. Leona watched Diana suffer punishment and isolation—but where others saw insolence, she saw a lost soul devoted to a search for meaning.
Leona found her purpose in the Solari teachings, and resolved to share it with Diana as even the most dutiful teachers forsook her. The two would debate late into the night, with Leona hoping to persuade Diana that everything she could ever want was there in the faith, waiting for her to accept it. Though she failed to win Diana over, Leona did find a friend.
One night, Diana confided a secret to Leona. She spoke of discovering a hidden alcove in the mountain, an ancient place where the walls were etched with depictions of strange symbols and forgotten societies. When Diana mentioned climbing the summit of Mount Targon to learn more, Leona urged her to stop. Seeking to protect her from the ire of the other Solari, Leona made Diana promise to abandon this search. Reluctantly, Diana agreed.
Time passed, and the two never spoke of Diana’s discovery again. Leona believed her friend had finally come to her senses.
Her belief was shattered late one night, when she glimpsed Diana slipping out of the temple. While her first instinct was to tell the elders, Leona thought instead of protecting her friend, wresting her back from the edge. Resolved, Leona set off after Diana…
To the summit of Mount Targon.
The ascent was a trial unlike any Leona had ever endured, straining every fiber of her being to its limit, and beyond. Her training, willpower, and concern for Diana was all that drove her on. The unblinking eyes of bodies frozen into the mountain's slopes watched her climb, their own journeys forever incomplete, but not even they could deter her.
After what seemed an eternity—and much to her own amazement—Leona reached the peak.
Exhausted, she beheld an uncanny landscape, and found Diana engulfed in a coruscating column of silver light. Leona saw her friend’s silhouette writhing in agony, the air rippling with her screams. Horrified, Leona rushed to her aid, when a golden radiance slashed down from the heavens to envelop her.
The sensation was indescribable, but rather than incinerating Leona, the illumination coursed into her, suffusing her with incredible power. She clung to her consciousness, fighting the current seeking to sear away her very being.
Ultimately, her indomitable will triumphed—and with that control came understanding.
With control came understanding. Leona was forever changed, imbued by the Aspect of the Sun. Destiny had selected her, and it was her duty to protect the Solari in the times to come.
It was then that Leona saw Diana, clad in gleaming silver war-plate, a strange reflection of the golden armor she discovered herself now wearing. Diana begged Leona to join her, to seek out answers the Solari could not offer. Leona demanded they return home, and present themselves for the priests’ judgment. Neither conceded, and they finally felt the weight of the weapons in their hands.
Their combat was swift, a blistering clash between sun and moon, ending with Diana’s crescent blade at Leona’s throat. But, rather than delivering the killing blow, Diana fled. Devastated, Leona descended Targon and hurried to her elders.
When she arrived, she found slaughter. Many Solari priests and their Ra’Horak guardians were dead, seemingly slain by Diana’s hand. The survivors were awed by the presence of two Aspects now in their midst, and Leona was committed to helping them navigate this new reality—the guiding light to her people, just as the sun had always been.
She has sworn to find Diana, to preserve the dominance of the Solari... but also to help her old friend control the Moon Aspect’s power before it destroys her.
", "short": "Imbued with the fire of the sun, Leona is a holy warrior of the Solari who defends Mount Targon with her Zenith Blade and the Shield of Daybreak. Her skin shimmers with starfire while her eyes burn with the power of the celestial Aspect within her. Armored in gold and bearing a terrible burden of ancient knowledge, Leona brings enlightenment to some, death to others.", "quote": "“By the light of the Sun, the world is beheld.”", "quote-author": "Leona" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2011-10-19T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Graves", "title": "the Outlaw", "section-title": "Graves", "slug": "graves", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "bilgewater", "image": { "title": "Graves_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/e98c383d56b9f60ae73cf0a24653dba19a6556a1-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1021, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Graves_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/e98c383d56b9f60ae73cf0a24653dba19a6556a1-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1021, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/graves", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/graves", "biography": { "full": "Raised in the wharf alleys of Bilgewater, Malcolm Graves quickly learned how to fight and how to steal, skills that would serve him very well in all the years ahead. He could always find work hauling contraband up from the smugglers’ skiffs that came into the bay each night—with a tidy side-gig as hired muscle for various other unsavory local characters, as they went about their business in the port.
\nBut the alleys were small-time, and he craved more excitement than they could offer. Still little more than a youth, Graves stole a blunderbuss and smuggled himself aboard a ship headed out of Bilgewater to the Shuriman mainland, where he stole, lied, and gambled his way from place to place along the coast.
\nAcross the table of a high-stakes—and highly illegal—card game in Mudtown, Graves met a man who would change the course of his life, and his career: the trickster now known to many as Twisted Fate.
\nEach immediately saw in the other the same reckless passion for danger and adventure, and together they formed a most lucrative partnership. Between Graves’ raw brawn and Twisted Fate’s ability to talk his way out of (and occasionally back into) almost any situation, they were an unusually effective team from the outset. Their mutual sense of roguish honor grew into genuine trust, and together they stole from the rich, swindled the foolish, handpicked skilled crews for specific jobs, and sold out their rivals whenever they could.
\nThough at times Twisted Fate would blow all their shares and leave them with nothing to show for it, Graves knew that the thrill of some new escapade was always just around the corner…
\nOn the southern borderlands of Valoran, they set two renowned noble houses of Noxus at each other’s throats as cover for the rescue of a kidnapped heir. That they pocketed the reward money, only to ransom the vile young man to the highest bidder, should really have come as no surprise to their original employer. In Piltover, they still hold the distinction of being the only thieves ever to crack the supposedly impenetrable Clockwork Vault. Not only did the pair empty the vault of all its treasures, they also tricked the guards into loading the loot onto their hijacked schooner, for a quick getaway through the Sun Gates.
\nIn almost every case, only once they and their accomplices were safely over the horizon were their crimes even discovered—usually along with one of Twisted Fate’s trademark calling cards left where it would be easily found.
\nBut, eventually, their luck ran out.
\nDuring a heist that rapidly turned from complex to completely botched, Graves was taken by the local enforcers, while Twisted Fate merely turned tail and abandoned him.
\nThrown into the infamous prison known as the Locker, Graves endured years of torture and solitary confinement, during which time he nursed his bitter anger toward his old partner. A lesser man would surely have been broken by all this, but not Malcolm Graves. He was determined to have his revenge.
\nWhen he finally clawed his way to freedom, with the prison warden’s brand new shotgun slung over his shoulder, Graves began his long-overdue pursuit of Twisted Fate.
\nThe search led him back home to Bilgewater, where he found that the wily old cardsharp had acquired a few new bounties on his head—and Graves would be only too happy to claim them. However, just as he got Twisted Fate in his sights, they were forced to put aside their differences in order to escape almost certain death in the ongoing conflict between the reaver king Gangplank and his rival ship captains.
\nOnce again, Graves found himself escaping his hometown… only this time, he had his old friend in tow. While both of them might have liked to pick up their partnership where they left off all those years ago, such resentment couldn't simply be forgotten overnight, and it would be a while before Graves could bring himself to trust Twisted Fate again.
\nStill, he feels Bilgewater calling to him once more. Maybe this time around, the pair of them will find their stride and be able to pull off the ultimate heist…
", "short": "Malcolm Graves is a renowned mercenary, gambler, and thief—a wanted man in every city and empire he has visited. Even though he has an explosive temper, he possesses a sense of criminal honor, often enforced at the business end of his double-barreled shotgun Destiny. In recent years, he has reconciled a troubled partnership with Twisted Fate, and together they have prospered once more in the turmoil of Bilgewater’s criminal underbelly.", "quote": "“We’re here for your gold, not your heads… so don’t nobody decide to be a hero.”", "quote-author": "Graves" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2009-02-21T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Jax", "title": "Grandmaster at Arms", "section-title": "Jax", "slug": "jax", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "unaffiliated", "image": { "title": "jax_splash_new.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/a8d3b960b33b5850f5c3b8e65a0afb54fde80e11-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1320, "y": 350, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "jax_splash_new.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/a8d3b960b33b5850f5c3b8e65a0afb54fde80e11-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1320, "y": 350, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/jax", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/jax", "biography": { "full": "Saijax Cail-Rynx Icath’un grew up in Icathia, a satrapy of the Shuriman empire. Ever since he was a boy, his father told him of when their home was a proud, independent nation, before it was ground under the heel of Shuriman oppression. He told him of the Kohari, heroes who protected Icathia and its Mage King. The Mage King had resisted Shurima’s conquest, but when he died in battle, his Kohari protectors followed him, committing ritual suicide. The Shuriman emperor displayed the Kohari’s decaying bodies for all to see, and the Mage King himself was impaled above the city gates, his bones left to molder.
\nSaijax’s father had witnessed this cruel act, and over time he passed down to his son the burning resentment that was growing in every Icathian heart. Even so, Saijax committed himself to the study of arms, learning from Shurima’s weapons masters as well as his own clan’s elders.
\nAfter many centuries of Shuriman rule, a massive earthquake struck the coastal province of Saabera. The destruction revealed something hidden deep beneath the earth, something dark and of great power—perhaps strong enough even to overcome Shurima’s god-like Ascended warriors. Saijax was entrusted with protecting the Icathian mages who encountered this discovery… which the guards just barely contained with brazier-staves that blazed with conjured elemental fire. Disturbed, he escorted the mages to the governing council so they could tell of what they’d learned.
\nThey called this power the Void.
\nImmediately the council recognized its potential, but Saijax saw the doom the Void portended. As a master of weaponry, he knew the danger of using a weapon they could neither fully understand nor safely harness. He regretted that he didn’t kill the mages as they rode from Saabera. He would regret it even more in the days to come.
\nConfident that the Void could defeat their Shuriman overlords, the council crowned a new Mage King. The Kohari were rebuilt, with Saijax among the first to join their ranks. They triumphed in early engagements, and Saijax even killed one of the vaunted Ascended in battle, watching with pride as its corpse was paraded around the liberated city of Bai-Zhek.
\nWhen the Ascended Host approached Icathia, Saijax and his brethren assembled on the front lines. As the two armies churned the earth beneath them into crimson loam, Icathia’s mages and priests deemed the time had come to unleash the Void.
\nRuin swept over the land, as Icathians, Shurimans, and even Ascended were unraveled from existence. The city’s walls collapsed as the Void swallowed thousands into cold, silent oblivion.
\nIn moments, Icathia was lost.
\nSaijax rode to the ruined crater where the Void had been summoned, determined to fall upon his sword like the Kohari of old. But before he could take his life, he saw among the devastation a discarded brazier-stave that he recognized from Saabera—it still blazed with elemental fire that harmed the Void. This flame kindled a spark in Saijax’s heart. He took up the stave and left behind the ruins of his homeland, tending to this “last light of Icathia”, and the hope it represented.
\nGrieving and ashamed, Saijax Cail-Rynx Kohari Icath’un forsook his old name, and from that day was known only as Jax.
\nHe became a wanderer, traveling across the known world and to places beyond any map. As he bore the elemental fire, Jax’s life extended beyond even the expectations of his long-lived people. Yet the farther he went from Icathia, the lower the flame burned, until it threatened to gutter out once and for all. Jax understood with grim resolution that he couldn’t run from his past. He had a duty to return, and fight. The advance of the Void had been halted by the last surviving Ascended, but its singular threat endured.
\nFor centuries since, Jax has roamed, a vagabond warrior searching for those strong enough to rebuild the Kohari. Though he has fought countless times against beings of great skill, courage, and power, none have yet convinced him that they can march against the coming darkness. The fall of Icathia has plagued Jax with doubt, but one thing remains certain: when the final battle comes, Jax will stand against the Void.
\nEven if he has to face it alone.
", "short": "Runeterra’s greatest weapons master, Jax is the only survivor of the Kohari—champions sworn to the defense of Icathia. But when the Void was unleashed against the Shuriman empire’s Ascended Host, Icathia was destroyed, leaving Jax without a home or purpose. He gathered the “last light of Icathia”, a symbol of his hope to one day defeat the Void, and now travels the world, searching for warriors strong enough to face the coming darkness by his side.", "quote": "“Strength and will are what make a weapon.”", "quote-author": "Jax" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2009-09-19T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Katarina", "title": "the Sinister Blade", "section-title": "Katarina", "slug": "katarina", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "noxus", "image": { "title": "Katarina_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0b61440f72501d55b2a1b02752b74c28680ee09d-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 822, "y": 356, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Katarina_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0b61440f72501d55b2a1b02752b74c28680ee09d-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 822, "y": 356, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/katarina", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/katarina", "biography": { "full": "Born to one of the most respected noble families of Noxus, Katarina Du Couteau found herself elevated above others from an early age. While her younger sister Cassiopeia took after their politically brilliant mother, Katarina was very much her father’s daughter, and the wily General Du Couteau pushed her to learn the way of the blade; to cut away the empire’s enemies not with reckless brutality, but deadly precision. He was a harsh teacher with many pupils, and notoriously difficult to impress.
So it was that Katarina’s childhood—if it can be called such—had little room for kindness or rest. She spent every waking moment honing herself into the ultimate weapon, testing her endurance, her dexterity, her tolerance for pain. She stole poisons from the city’s least reputable apothecaries, testing their efficacy in tiny increments upon herself, gradually building her resistance even as she catalogued their effects. She scaled the tallest towers in the dead of night, unseen by anyone.
She yearned to do her part for Noxus. She yearned for the opportunity to demonstrate her hidden strengths in service of the empire, and the throne.
Her first mark came straight from her father, camped with his warbands on the eve of one of the military’s innumerable westward invasions… She was to assassinate a line officer of the opposing army, a low-born wretch by the name of Demetrius.
Katarina was livid. She hadn’t trained her entire life to have her talents wasted on some dungheel barely skilled enough to swing a sword! He simply wouldn’t do. Instead of her assigned target, Katarina stole into the enemy camp and slit the enemy commander’s throat as he slept. It was a flawless execution. It would bring a swift victory, and glory to Noxus. It would make her father proud.
At dawn, his face daubed with ashes, the vengeful hero Demetrius led a berzerk charge into her father’s encampment. Dozens of Noxian soldiers were slaughtered, along with the general’s personal retinue. Katarina’s father himself barely escaped with his life.
He was furious beyond words, refusing even to look his daughter in the eye. She had shamed him, and their family name. The greatest assassins do not seek recognition or glory, he reminded her. They do not expect to occupy a place of honor at their master’s right hand.
Overwhelmed, Katarina struck out into the wilderness, alone. She would complete her original mission. Demetrius would pay with his life. Even so, her mind swam. Could she ever forgive herself? How had she been so foolish?
She was so distracted, she didn’t see her attacker until he had nearly taken her eye out.
For Katarina’s failure, General Du Couteau had sent another of his protégés after her; a nameless whelp dragged up from one of the lesser assassins’ guilds. But even with blood streaming down her face, the years of rigorous training kicked in, and her blades were in her hands in an instant.
Six hours later, she tossed Demetrius’s severed head at her father’s feet.
She told the general she had considered taking his head instead, but eventually decided—as much as she hated to admit it—that he had done the right thing in ordering her death. She had failed. Not just as an assassin, or as a daughter, but as a Noxian.
And failure must have its consequences. She ran her fingers along the raw, deep gash over her left eye, and thought of the price others had paid for her arrogance.
She knew she had lost her father’s favor, and could never regain it. He would raise others in her place, simply to spite her. Still, she vowed to redeem herself, no matter the cost—to rededicate her talents to the empire, and to become the sinister weapon she always intended to be.
", "short": "Decisive in judgment and lethal in combat, Katarina is a Noxian assassin of the highest caliber. Eldest daughter to the legendary General Du Couteau, she made her talents known with swift kills against unsuspecting enemies. Her fiery ambition has driven her to pursue heavily-guarded targets, even at the risk of endangering her allies—but no matter the mission, Katarina will not hesitate to execute her duty amid a whirlwind of serrated daggers.", "quote": "''Never question my loyalty. You will never know what I endure for it.''", "quote-author": "Katarina" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-02-14T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Nautilus", "title": "the Titan of the Depths", "section-title": "Nautilus", "slug": "nautilus", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "bilgewater", "image": { "title": "Nautilus_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0381e43e608994c7c4cd30b4bea8b2af00b44401-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1075, "y": 4, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Nautilus_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0381e43e608994c7c4cd30b4bea8b2af00b44401-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1075, "y": 4, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/nautilus", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/nautilus", "biography": { "full": "To understand the legend of Nautilus, one must first know the man—for even the tallest of tavern tales agree, he was indeed a man.
Though the waves have washed away the name he was born with, most remember Nautilus as no mere sailor, but as a salvage diver. Just beyond the southernmost reach of the Blue Flame Isles lies a graveyard of ships, rumored lost while searching for a blessed land, looking to trade wealth for immortality. On a fair day, their glittering holds beckon from beneath the surface. Many crews sought divers to collect the lost fortune, and none could match the skill of the quick-sinking hulk of solid muscle that was Nautilus.
With lungs that could steal the air from a galleon’s sails, Nautilus preferred to freedive. Always bringing up plenty of gold or jewels for the crew, the man demanded no special wages—he asked only that the captain toss a coin overboard as they set out, honoring and appeasing the vast ocean. A sailor’s superstition to be sure, but many a sea-fearing crew made such offerings to ensure a safe return.
Years of salvage depleted the easy treasure, each haul becoming less and less, until one day Nautilus’s crew learned that their ship and working papers had been bought out from under them.
The dawn was scarlet the morning the new captain came aboard. Hailing from a foreign port, he brought with him a giant suit of brass and iron. He zeroed in on Nautilus; indeed, he had purchased the command because of Nautilus. It was clear the captain was obsessed with a specific wreck, one shrouded in darkness even on a fair day. The diving armor could withstand the pressures of the ocean floor far longer than any man, long enough to collect what was hidden in the abnormal murk.
The crew agreed working was better than starving, and Nautilus found himself being bolted into the suit, the wooden deck groaning under the load. Panic rose in his throat when he realized that they had nothing to pay the tithe. The foreign captain laughed as Nautilus was lowered into the water. He assured the crew that whatever the Bearded Lady was protecting would make them all rich beyond their wildest dreams. When Nautilus returned to the surface, they would make their silly sacrifice.
As Nautilus sank, the light above dimmed, and all grew quiet, the man’s own breath the only sound echoing in the iron suit. Then something reached out from the depths. He was being pulled down, and for the first time Nautilus felt liquid fear wrap itself around his heart. It was not treasure his captain sought, but some slumbering, eldritch power.
Nautilus grabbed the anchor chain, his last connection to the world above, and hauled himself up even as the thing below sought to drag him down. But the weight was too much. Just as his giant metal fingers were about to breach the surface, the chain snapped. Nautilus screamed within the suit, but none could hear him. He tumbled back into the inky maelstrom, clutching the sinking anchor in desperation. Dark tendrils enveloped him, and he could only watch as the dimming outline of his ship faded away. Then everything went black.
When Nautilus awoke on the ocean floor, he was something… different. The darkness could no longer hurt him. The great metal suit had become a seamless shell around him, concealing the bond that the primordial power had made with his spirit. Trapped in the sunless depths, he could remember only one thing—the new captain’s broken promise.
Nautilus vowed, there and then, that all would pay the ocean’s tithe. He would see to it himself.
Driven ever forward by this thought, he trudged toward the shore. But by the time he reached Bilgewater, years had passed, and he could find no traces of his captain or crew. There was no life to which he could return, no revenge he could take. Instead he returned to the sea, allowing his anger to surface on the greedy, gutting their ships with his mighty anchor.
Sometimes, in the tumble of waves, distant memories of who he was push up above the waterline… but always the man who is Nautilus stays drowned just below the surface.
", "short": "A lonely legend as old as the first piers sunk in Bilgewater, the armored goliath known as Nautilus roams the dark waters off the coast of the Blue Flame Isles. Driven by a forgotten betrayal, he strikes without warning, swinging his enormous anchor to save the wretched, and drag the greedy to their doom. It is said he comes for those who forget to pay the “Bilgewater tithe”, pulling them down beneath the waves with him—an iron-clad reminder that none can escape the depths.", "quote": "''When consumed by utter darkness, there is nothing left but forward.''", "quote-author": "Nautilus" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-08-21T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Rengar", "title": "the Pridestalker", "section-title": "Rengar", "slug": "rengar", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ixtal", "image": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/rengar", "video": { "title": "rengar-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/1d6b5b19b0a0c99fae110db5a04aa46ff3b29baf.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [ { "name": "Vastaya", "slug": "vastaya" } ], "roles": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/rengar", "biography": { "full": "Rengar hails from a tribe of Shuriman vastaya known as the Kiilash, whose society venerated the honor and glory of the hunt. Rengar was born the runt of the litter to the tribe's chieftain, Ponjaf. Ponjaf believed Rengar's diminutive size would make him a worthless hunter. He ignored his child, assuming the runt would starve to death.
Eventually, the young Rengar fled the camp, ashamed that he had disappointed his father. He subsisted on grubs and plants for weeks until, one day, he was nearly killed by a legendary human hunter named Markon. Upon seeing Rengar's state, he took pity on the creature and let it live. Besides, this was no mighty vastayan warrior worthy of Markon's blade.
Rengar spent months following Markon, feeding off the corpses the hunter left behind. He still hoped to one day rejoin his tribe, and so took great care in observing how Markon took down his quarries.
After some time, Markon grew sick of the pathetic Kiilash following him around. He put a knife to Rengar's throat and informed him that the only way to be a hunter was to hunt. He tossed Rengar the blade and kicked him down a ravine, where he was forced to make his first kill to survive.
From then on, Rengar spent years pushing himself almost to breaking point. He scoured Shurima for the most powerful and dangerous prey. Though he would never be as big as other Kiilash, Rengar was determined to be twice as ferocious. Over time, instead of coming back to his camp each time with fresh scars, he began to come back with trophies. He polished a sandhawk's skull to a sheen; he braided the teeth of a shrieker into his hair.
Then, when he decided the time had come, Rengar returned to his tribe, ready to be accepted as a true hunter.
Ponjaf scoffed at Rengar and his trophies. He decreed that only by bringing back the head of the elusive and legendary Void-abomination known as Kha'Zix would Rengar be welcomed back into the tribe.
Blinded by his eagerness, Rengar allowed this cunning beast to get the drop on him. The Void creature ripped out one of Rengar's eyes and escaped. Furious and defeated, Rengar admitted his failure to Ponjaf. As expected, his father chastised him.
But as Ponjaf spoke, Rengar noticed all the trophies adorning his father's hut were dusty and old. The chieftain had not hunted anything in a long time—he had likely sent Rengar after Kha'Zix because he was too afraid to do it himself.
Rengar interrupted his father and called him a coward. Many Kiilash were blessed with strong bodies or comfortable homes. Rengar, conversely, was born facing death. He had taught himself how to hunt, and had the trophies and scars to prove it. Even his own bloody eye socket was a trophy: proof that though Rengar was born with disadvantages, he never gave up.
Rengar leapt onto his father and gutted him from neck to belly. The fiercest hunters of the tribe crowned him with flame-roses, marking him as their new chieftain.
But Rengar didn't need his village's acceptance. All he needed was adrenaline pumping through his veins as he chased down his prey. He left the village, without even pausing to take a trophy from what was left of Ponjaf—his father was not a kill worthy of remembering. Instead, he set off determined to find and slay the Void creature that had tried to blind him.
Not to satisfy the Kiilash, but to satisfy himself.
", "short": "Rengar is a ferocious vastayan trophy hunter who lives for the thrill of tracking down and killing dangerous creatures. He scours the world for the most fearsome beasts he can find, especially seeking any trace of Kha’Zix, the void creature who scratched out his eye. Rengar stalks his prey neither for food nor glory, but for the sheer beauty of the pursuit.", "quote": "“Prey on the weak and you may survive. Prey on the strong and you will truly live.”", "quote-author": "Rengar" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-07-24T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Zyra", "title": "Rise of the Thorns", "section-title": "Zyra", "slug": "zyra", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ixtal", "image": { "title": "Zyra_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/35938ca5eed918f72a683ee4ce8fce265cdf2a53-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1070, "y": 38, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Zyra_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/35938ca5eed918f72a683ee4ce8fce265cdf2a53-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1070, "y": 38, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/zyra", "video": { "title": "zyra-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/374f35f73d16ac029e6f67b3c399f8094d92109b.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 1070, "y": 38, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/zyra", "biography": { "full": "Zyra’s memory is long, and runs as deep as the roots of the earth. Her kind was young when the Rune Wars raged, when mortal armies fought one another for the very keys of creation.
Hidden in the jungles south of Kumungu, somewhere between the great rivers that divide eastern Shurima, lay the fabled Gardens of Zyr. Elemental magics had turned the soil there in strange and unpredictable ways, giving rise to fierce, carnivorous plants that preyed upon any creature that strayed within reach. They infested and they devoured, caring nothing for the squabbles of mortals, content merely to coil their vines through the forests and swamplands. In their own way, they were all Zyra… and nourishment was plentiful, even in the midst of war.
A small company of soldiers, their allegiance long since lost to time, advanced through those lands in search of some now-forgotten prize. They were led by an ambitious sorceress—but they were far from home, bound to succumb to the noxious fumes and spores of that accursed place.
The denizens of the Gardens set upon them, spined tendrils lashing through armor and flesh with sadistic ease. Though they fought valiantly, the warriors knew they could not hold out long, and turned to their sorceress to save them. Gathering her powers, she wrought a mighty blast. The air burned with runic symbols, casting their eerie light even as the thorny overgrowth closed in.
In that very instant, a rogue spark ignited the gases of the swamp, and the resulting magical explosion obliterated every living thing for miles around. Of the scattered survivors of the Rune Wars, none would ever know what fate had befallen the Gardens of Zyr.
Centuries passed. The land where the battle had been fought lay empty and lifeless above ground… but in the depths, something stirred. Long had the energies that were unleashed there settled, and curdled, nourished by the fallout. A seedpod bulged, pulsing with unnatural life, until a creature clawed its way free, gasping and confused.
It beheld a broken and changed world, brimming with new vitality and new ideas. Its mind was a puzzle of conflicting memories, drawn from the loamy earth and forced into its fledgling consciousness. It could recall the warmth of the sun, the taste of rain, words of power, and the agony of a hundred mortal deaths.
It—she—called herself Zyra, without quite understanding why.
As she ventured out into the wildlands beyond her birthplace, Zyra knew she was different from other creatures she encountered. Mortals were fearful and unpleasant things, while more ethereal entities tended to be capricious, or arrogant. None of them seemed to respect the realms they inhabited, despoiling everything with their mere presence, and that filled Zyra with rage and contempt. Almost unbidden, new life sprang up in her footsteps—voracious plant forms that changed and evolved beneath her gaze, hurling poisonous barbs or sprouting fresh tendrils at an alarming rate.
Unrooted and free to wander, Zyra and her deadly progeny feed, and grow, strangling all other life from the world. She has blighted farmland, overrun entire settlements, and crushed those warriors brave or foolish enough to confront her, always leaving a menagerie of botanical horrors in her wake.
As the rivers of Shurima begin to run anew, strange flora has been sighted on their banks, spreading slowly westward with each passing season. Whether pulled from the earth or purged by fire, the growth does not seem to be slowing…
", "short": "Born in an ancient, sorcerous catastrophe, Zyra is the wrath of nature given form—an alluring hybrid of plant and human, kindling new life with every step. She views the many mortals of Valoran as little more than prey for her seeded progeny, and thinks nothing of slaying them with flurries of deadly spines. Though her true purpose has not been revealed, Zyra wanders the world, indulging her most primal urges to colonize, and strangle all other life from it.", "quote": "“Where are your friends? Mine are all around…”", "quote-author": "Zyra" }, "headerImage": null } ] }, { "slug": "Prey", "type": "story-preview", "title": "Prey", "subtitle": "by Anthony Burch", "description": "A predator feasting on fear. A hunter without any. Only one will make it out of this alive.", "story-slug": "rengar-prey", "featured-image": { "title": "rengar-vastaya-sketch.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/a0d9f1ee985fb278fcbc0e0ce3ea9a1698dfd379-1280x874.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 2500, "height": 1707, "x": 1340, "y": 560, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "rengar-vastaya-sketch.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/a0d9f1ee985fb278fcbc0e0ce3ea9a1698dfd379-1280x874.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 2500, "height": 1707, "x": 1340, "y": 560, "featured-champions": [] }, "release-date": "2017-04-23T15:00:00.000Z", "featured-champions": [ { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-08-21T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Rengar", "title": "the Pridestalker", "section-title": "Rengar", "slug": "rengar", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ixtal", "image": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/rengar", "video": { "title": "rengar-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/1d6b5b19b0a0c99fae110db5a04aa46ff3b29baf.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [ { "name": "Vastaya", "slug": "vastaya" } ], "roles": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/rengar", "biography": { "full": "Rengar hails from a tribe of Shuriman vastaya known as the Kiilash, whose society venerated the honor and glory of the hunt. Rengar was born the runt of the litter to the tribe's chieftain, Ponjaf. Ponjaf believed Rengar's diminutive size would make him a worthless hunter. He ignored his child, assuming the runt would starve to death.
Eventually, the young Rengar fled the camp, ashamed that he had disappointed his father. He subsisted on grubs and plants for weeks until, one day, he was nearly killed by a legendary human hunter named Markon. Upon seeing Rengar's state, he took pity on the creature and let it live. Besides, this was no mighty vastayan warrior worthy of Markon's blade.
Rengar spent months following Markon, feeding off the corpses the hunter left behind. He still hoped to one day rejoin his tribe, and so took great care in observing how Markon took down his quarries.
After some time, Markon grew sick of the pathetic Kiilash following him around. He put a knife to Rengar's throat and informed him that the only way to be a hunter was to hunt. He tossed Rengar the blade and kicked him down a ravine, where he was forced to make his first kill to survive.
From then on, Rengar spent years pushing himself almost to breaking point. He scoured Shurima for the most powerful and dangerous prey. Though he would never be as big as other Kiilash, Rengar was determined to be twice as ferocious. Over time, instead of coming back to his camp each time with fresh scars, he began to come back with trophies. He polished a sandhawk's skull to a sheen; he braided the teeth of a shrieker into his hair.
Then, when he decided the time had come, Rengar returned to his tribe, ready to be accepted as a true hunter.
Ponjaf scoffed at Rengar and his trophies. He decreed that only by bringing back the head of the elusive and legendary Void-abomination known as Kha'Zix would Rengar be welcomed back into the tribe.
Blinded by his eagerness, Rengar allowed this cunning beast to get the drop on him. The Void creature ripped out one of Rengar's eyes and escaped. Furious and defeated, Rengar admitted his failure to Ponjaf. As expected, his father chastised him.
But as Ponjaf spoke, Rengar noticed all the trophies adorning his father's hut were dusty and old. The chieftain had not hunted anything in a long time—he had likely sent Rengar after Kha'Zix because he was too afraid to do it himself.
Rengar interrupted his father and called him a coward. Many Kiilash were blessed with strong bodies or comfortable homes. Rengar, conversely, was born facing death. He had taught himself how to hunt, and had the trophies and scars to prove it. Even his own bloody eye socket was a trophy: proof that though Rengar was born with disadvantages, he never gave up.
Rengar leapt onto his father and gutted him from neck to belly. The fiercest hunters of the tribe crowned him with flame-roses, marking him as their new chieftain.
But Rengar didn't need his village's acceptance. All he needed was adrenaline pumping through his veins as he chased down his prey. He left the village, without even pausing to take a trophy from what was left of Ponjaf—his father was not a kill worthy of remembering. Instead, he set off determined to find and slay the Void creature that had tried to blind him.
Not to satisfy the Kiilash, but to satisfy himself.
", "short": "Rengar is a ferocious vastayan trophy hunter who lives for the thrill of tracking down and killing dangerous creatures. He scours the world for the most fearsome beasts he can find, especially seeking any trace of Kha’Zix, the void creature who scratched out his eye. Rengar stalks his prey neither for food nor glory, but for the sheer beauty of the pursuit.", "quote": "“Prey on the weak and you may survive. Prey on the strong and you will truly live.”", "quote-author": "Rengar" }, "headerImage": null } ], "minutes-to-read": 5, "url": "/en_us/story/rengar-prey" }, { "slug": "Eduard Santangelo's Vastaya Field Journal", "type": "story-preview", "title": "Eduard Santangelo's Vastaya Field Journal", "subtitle": null, "description": "Chimeras with human blood? Spiritual magic from an ancient race? In my humble inquiries I have stumbled upon far greater questions...this shall make for quite the chronicle. A best-seller, in fact.For most of her life, Ahri's origins were a mystery to her, the history of her vastayan tribe all but lost save for the twin gemstones she has carried her entire life.
\n\nAhri's earliest memories are of running with icefoxes in the northern reaches of Shon-Xan. Though she knew she was not one of them, they clearly saw her as something of a kindred spirit, and came to accept her within the pack.
\nIn that wild, predatory existence, Ahri nonetheless felt a deeper connection to the forests around her. In time, she came to understand that this was the magic of the vastaya that coursed through every fiber of her being, and the realm of spirits that lay beyond. With no one to teach her, instead she learned to call upon this power in her own ways—most often using it to quicken her reflexes in pursuit of prey. If she was careful and close enough, she also found she might soothe a panicked deer, so that it remained serene and calm even as she and her packmates sank their teeth into its flesh.
\nThe world of mortals was as distant and unsettling to Ahri as it was to the icefoxes, but she felt drawn to it for reasons she could not explain. Humans in particular were coarse, gruff creatures… and when a band of huntsmen camped nearby, Ahri watched them from afar as they went about their grim business.
\nWhen one of them was wounded by a stray arrow, Ahri could feel his life seeping away. Knowing nothing but the instincts of a predator, she savored the spirit essence leaving his body, and through it gained brief flashes of his memories—the lover he had lost in battle, and the children he had left behind when he came north. Ahri subtly pushed his emotions from fear to sorrow to joy, and comforted him with visions of a sun-soaked meadow as he died.
\nAfterward, she found that human words now came to her easily, like something from a half-remembered dream, and Ahri knew the time had come to leave the pack behind.
\nKeeping to the fringes of society, she felt more alive than ever. Her predatory nature remained, but she was caught up in a riot of new experiences, emotions, and customs across Ionia. Mortals, it seemed, also became fascinated by her in return—and she often used this to her advantage, draining their essence while charming them with recollections of beauty, hallucinations of deep longing, and occasionally dreams colored by raw sorrow.
\nShe grew drunk on memories that were not her own, and exhilarated in ending the lives of others even as she felt the grief and woe she brought to her victims. She experienced heartbreak and elation in tantalizing flashes that left her craving more. It was overwhelming, but she sensed her own power fading whenever she tried to stay away, and could not help but partake again and again…
\nIn time, she began to see herself as mortals did: a monster.
\nUntil one day, an artist stumbled upon her, hunched over a man as she drained his life essence from him. Where others would run, he stayed, offering his own life essence in exchange for her heart. For the first time in her life, Ahri let herself fall in love and be loved, wholly and completely.
\nTheir days passed in warmth and laughter, Ahri curbing her hunger by feeding on her lover. She was truly happy... until she lost control, draining her lover completely.
\nAhri fell into despair, her grief consuming her as she mourned the loss of the first and only person she's ever truly loved. The first and only person who ever truly loved her. Retreating even further from society, she became consumed with learning more about where she came from, in hopes that it would help her control her abilities.
\n\nWith her twin sunstones in hand, she set out in search of others like her, a journey that would take her out of Ionia and across Runeterra, eventually leading her to the discovery of her ancestors, the Vesani, a vastayan tribe that brought innovation and magic to the world before being wiped out.
\n\nInspired by their memories, Ahri has set off to travel the world in search of other remnants of the Vesani. She hopes to carry their legacy forward, bringing good into the world like they did. No longer burdened by the heavy weight of her regrets, she also hopes to finally leave her stolen memories behind and create new memories of her own making.
", "short": "Innately connected to the magic of the spirit realm, Ahri is a fox-like vastaya who can manipulate her prey's emotions and consume their essence—receiving flashes of their memory and insight from each soul she consumes. Once a powerful yet wayward predator, Ahri is now traveling the world in search of remnants of her ancestors while also trying to replace her stolen memories with ones of her own making.
", "quote": "“Human emotions can be more volatile than even the deepest magic.”", "quote-author": "Ahri" }, "headerImage": null } ], "minutes-to-read": 5, "url": "/en_us/story/vastaya-field-journal" }, { "slug": "rengar-image-gallery", "type": "image-gallery", "isFanArt": false, "fan-art-url": "", "featured-image": "", "title": "", "subtitle": "", "assets": [ { "title": "Rengar cinematic model", "subtitle": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/98745ad897ed80157eb572ae40a40c291f8ff479-1909x664.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1909, "height": 664, "x": 2, "y": 36, "featured-champions": [] }, { "title": "Rengar linework", "subtitle": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/a52166f4ac5a87c44173c426b4deb00af6cd1722-1920x646.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 646, "x": 918, "y": 368, "featured-champions": [] }, { "title": "Rengar concept", "subtitle": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/3904ed5f74c6d846b08e4cbda867166e43e9cb51-1920x873.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 873, "x": 342, "y": 386, "featured-champions": [] }, { "title": "Rengar final colored", "subtitle": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/16cb7d288eac12f93167123a73dc8296d27fe0ae-1500x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1500, "height": 1080, "x": 447, "y": 186, "featured-champions": [] }, { "title": "Rengar splash concept", "subtitle": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/32177c8f2d963041824285f763275514a981cb87-890x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 890, "height": 1080, "x": 578, "y": 82, "featured-champions": [] } ], "featured-champions": [ { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-08-21T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Rengar", "title": "the Pridestalker", "section-title": "Rengar", "slug": "rengar", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ixtal", "image": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/rengar", "video": { "title": "rengar-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/1d6b5b19b0a0c99fae110db5a04aa46ff3b29baf.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [ { "name": "Vastaya", "slug": "vastaya" } ], "roles": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/rengar", "biography": { "full": "Rengar hails from a tribe of Shuriman vastaya known as the Kiilash, whose society venerated the honor and glory of the hunt. Rengar was born the runt of the litter to the tribe's chieftain, Ponjaf. Ponjaf believed Rengar's diminutive size would make him a worthless hunter. He ignored his child, assuming the runt would starve to death.
Eventually, the young Rengar fled the camp, ashamed that he had disappointed his father. He subsisted on grubs and plants for weeks until, one day, he was nearly killed by a legendary human hunter named Markon. Upon seeing Rengar's state, he took pity on the creature and let it live. Besides, this was no mighty vastayan warrior worthy of Markon's blade.
Rengar spent months following Markon, feeding off the corpses the hunter left behind. He still hoped to one day rejoin his tribe, and so took great care in observing how Markon took down his quarries.
After some time, Markon grew sick of the pathetic Kiilash following him around. He put a knife to Rengar's throat and informed him that the only way to be a hunter was to hunt. He tossed Rengar the blade and kicked him down a ravine, where he was forced to make his first kill to survive.
From then on, Rengar spent years pushing himself almost to breaking point. He scoured Shurima for the most powerful and dangerous prey. Though he would never be as big as other Kiilash, Rengar was determined to be twice as ferocious. Over time, instead of coming back to his camp each time with fresh scars, he began to come back with trophies. He polished a sandhawk's skull to a sheen; he braided the teeth of a shrieker into his hair.
Then, when he decided the time had come, Rengar returned to his tribe, ready to be accepted as a true hunter.
Ponjaf scoffed at Rengar and his trophies. He decreed that only by bringing back the head of the elusive and legendary Void-abomination known as Kha'Zix would Rengar be welcomed back into the tribe.
Blinded by his eagerness, Rengar allowed this cunning beast to get the drop on him. The Void creature ripped out one of Rengar's eyes and escaped. Furious and defeated, Rengar admitted his failure to Ponjaf. As expected, his father chastised him.
But as Ponjaf spoke, Rengar noticed all the trophies adorning his father's hut were dusty and old. The chieftain had not hunted anything in a long time—he had likely sent Rengar after Kha'Zix because he was too afraid to do it himself.
Rengar interrupted his father and called him a coward. Many Kiilash were blessed with strong bodies or comfortable homes. Rengar, conversely, was born facing death. He had taught himself how to hunt, and had the trophies and scars to prove it. Even his own bloody eye socket was a trophy: proof that though Rengar was born with disadvantages, he never gave up.
Rengar leapt onto his father and gutted him from neck to belly. The fiercest hunters of the tribe crowned him with flame-roses, marking him as their new chieftain.
But Rengar didn't need his village's acceptance. All he needed was adrenaline pumping through his veins as he chased down his prey. He left the village, without even pausing to take a trophy from what was left of Ponjaf—his father was not a kill worthy of remembering. Instead, he set off determined to find and slay the Void creature that had tried to blind him.
Not to satisfy the Kiilash, but to satisfy himself.
", "short": "Rengar is a ferocious vastayan trophy hunter who lives for the thrill of tracking down and killing dangerous creatures. He scours the world for the most fearsome beasts he can find, especially seeking any trace of Kha’Zix, the void creature who scratched out his eye. Rengar stalks his prey neither for food nor glory, but for the sheer beauty of the pursuit.", "quote": "“Prey on the weak and you may survive. Prey on the strong and you will truly live.”", "quote-author": "Rengar" }, "headerImage": null } ] }, { "slug": "rengar-fanart-gallery", "type": "link-out", "title": "Rengar Fan Art Showcase", "description": "Inspired by Rengar. Created by you.", "url": "https://fanart.na.leagueoflegends.com/en_US/Rengar", "featured-image": null, "background": { "title": "rengar-minerbill.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/5ab8ce7cc04f748c6caa322b29e2e7ac3c498082-1024x576.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1024, "height": 576, "x": 543, "y": 194, "featured-champions": [] }, "isFanArt": false, "isComic": false }, { "slug": "rengar-artbook", "type": "link-out", "title": "The Art of League of Legends", "description": "You’ll find no early iterations of Rengar concept art anywhere in our vaults, because the way he looks today is nearly identical to his earliest sketches. The humanoid-yet-feline trophy hunter had a relatively fast development process: only four or five months from concept to launch. While some champions are shaped and honed over time and iteration, others, like Rengar, have a unique staying power that charms us from the beginning.", "url": "http://artbook.na.leagueoflegends.com/en_US/volume-one#chapter/champions/section/rengar", "featured-image": null, "background": { "title": "rengar_artbook.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/ab25e41003ba700074e9d19825ded4725bb6e2e8-1095x1142.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1095, "height": 1142, "x": 796, "y": 357, "featured-champions": [] }, "isFanArt": false, "isComic": false }, { "slug": "rengar-login", "type": "featured-video", "featured-image": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "title": "Rengar: Login Theme", "subtitle": "", "description": null, "uri": "https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0axsibJhIco", "video": { "type": "video", "title": "", "subtitle": "", "description": [], "uri": "https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0axsibJhIco", "width": "", "height": "", "x": "", "y": "", "featured-champions": [] }, "release-date": "2012-08-21T15:00:00.000Z", "video-type": "champ-login-music", "featured-champions": [ { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-08-21T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Rengar", "title": "the Pridestalker", "section-title": "Rengar", "slug": "rengar", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ixtal", "image": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/rengar", "video": { "title": "rengar-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/1d6b5b19b0a0c99fae110db5a04aa46ff3b29baf.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [ { "name": "Vastaya", "slug": "vastaya" } ], "roles": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/rengar", "biography": { "full": "Rengar hails from a tribe of Shuriman vastaya known as the Kiilash, whose society venerated the honor and glory of the hunt. Rengar was born the runt of the litter to the tribe's chieftain, Ponjaf. Ponjaf believed Rengar's diminutive size would make him a worthless hunter. He ignored his child, assuming the runt would starve to death.
Eventually, the young Rengar fled the camp, ashamed that he had disappointed his father. He subsisted on grubs and plants for weeks until, one day, he was nearly killed by a legendary human hunter named Markon. Upon seeing Rengar's state, he took pity on the creature and let it live. Besides, this was no mighty vastayan warrior worthy of Markon's blade.
Rengar spent months following Markon, feeding off the corpses the hunter left behind. He still hoped to one day rejoin his tribe, and so took great care in observing how Markon took down his quarries.
After some time, Markon grew sick of the pathetic Kiilash following him around. He put a knife to Rengar's throat and informed him that the only way to be a hunter was to hunt. He tossed Rengar the blade and kicked him down a ravine, where he was forced to make his first kill to survive.
From then on, Rengar spent years pushing himself almost to breaking point. He scoured Shurima for the most powerful and dangerous prey. Though he would never be as big as other Kiilash, Rengar was determined to be twice as ferocious. Over time, instead of coming back to his camp each time with fresh scars, he began to come back with trophies. He polished a sandhawk's skull to a sheen; he braided the teeth of a shrieker into his hair.
Then, when he decided the time had come, Rengar returned to his tribe, ready to be accepted as a true hunter.
Ponjaf scoffed at Rengar and his trophies. He decreed that only by bringing back the head of the elusive and legendary Void-abomination known as Kha'Zix would Rengar be welcomed back into the tribe.
Blinded by his eagerness, Rengar allowed this cunning beast to get the drop on him. The Void creature ripped out one of Rengar's eyes and escaped. Furious and defeated, Rengar admitted his failure to Ponjaf. As expected, his father chastised him.
But as Ponjaf spoke, Rengar noticed all the trophies adorning his father's hut were dusty and old. The chieftain had not hunted anything in a long time—he had likely sent Rengar after Kha'Zix because he was too afraid to do it himself.
Rengar interrupted his father and called him a coward. Many Kiilash were blessed with strong bodies or comfortable homes. Rengar, conversely, was born facing death. He had taught himself how to hunt, and had the trophies and scars to prove it. Even his own bloody eye socket was a trophy: proof that though Rengar was born with disadvantages, he never gave up.
Rengar leapt onto his father and gutted him from neck to belly. The fiercest hunters of the tribe crowned him with flame-roses, marking him as their new chieftain.
But Rengar didn't need his village's acceptance. All he needed was adrenaline pumping through his veins as he chased down his prey. He left the village, without even pausing to take a trophy from what was left of Ponjaf—his father was not a kill worthy of remembering. Instead, he set off determined to find and slay the Void creature that had tried to blind him.
Not to satisfy the Kiilash, but to satisfy himself.
", "short": "Rengar is a ferocious vastayan trophy hunter who lives for the thrill of tracking down and killing dangerous creatures. He scours the world for the most fearsome beasts he can find, especially seeking any trace of Kha’Zix, the void creature who scratched out his eye. Rengar stalks his prey neither for food nor glory, but for the sheer beauty of the pursuit.", "quote": "“Prey on the weak and you may survive. Prey on the strong and you will truly live.”", "quote-author": "Rengar" }, "headerImage": null } ], "related-champions": [ { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-08-21T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Rengar", "title": "the Pridestalker", "section-title": "Rengar", "slug": "rengar", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ixtal", "image": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/rengar", "video": { "title": "rengar-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/1d6b5b19b0a0c99fae110db5a04aa46ff3b29baf.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [ { "name": "Vastaya", "slug": "vastaya" } ], "roles": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/rengar", "biography": { "full": "Rengar hails from a tribe of Shuriman vastaya known as the Kiilash, whose society venerated the honor and glory of the hunt. Rengar was born the runt of the litter to the tribe's chieftain, Ponjaf. Ponjaf believed Rengar's diminutive size would make him a worthless hunter. He ignored his child, assuming the runt would starve to death.
Eventually, the young Rengar fled the camp, ashamed that he had disappointed his father. He subsisted on grubs and plants for weeks until, one day, he was nearly killed by a legendary human hunter named Markon. Upon seeing Rengar's state, he took pity on the creature and let it live. Besides, this was no mighty vastayan warrior worthy of Markon's blade.
Rengar spent months following Markon, feeding off the corpses the hunter left behind. He still hoped to one day rejoin his tribe, and so took great care in observing how Markon took down his quarries.
After some time, Markon grew sick of the pathetic Kiilash following him around. He put a knife to Rengar's throat and informed him that the only way to be a hunter was to hunt. He tossed Rengar the blade and kicked him down a ravine, where he was forced to make his first kill to survive.
From then on, Rengar spent years pushing himself almost to breaking point. He scoured Shurima for the most powerful and dangerous prey. Though he would never be as big as other Kiilash, Rengar was determined to be twice as ferocious. Over time, instead of coming back to his camp each time with fresh scars, he began to come back with trophies. He polished a sandhawk's skull to a sheen; he braided the teeth of a shrieker into his hair.
Then, when he decided the time had come, Rengar returned to his tribe, ready to be accepted as a true hunter.
Ponjaf scoffed at Rengar and his trophies. He decreed that only by bringing back the head of the elusive and legendary Void-abomination known as Kha'Zix would Rengar be welcomed back into the tribe.
Blinded by his eagerness, Rengar allowed this cunning beast to get the drop on him. The Void creature ripped out one of Rengar's eyes and escaped. Furious and defeated, Rengar admitted his failure to Ponjaf. As expected, his father chastised him.
But as Ponjaf spoke, Rengar noticed all the trophies adorning his father's hut were dusty and old. The chieftain had not hunted anything in a long time—he had likely sent Rengar after Kha'Zix because he was too afraid to do it himself.
Rengar interrupted his father and called him a coward. Many Kiilash were blessed with strong bodies or comfortable homes. Rengar, conversely, was born facing death. He had taught himself how to hunt, and had the trophies and scars to prove it. Even his own bloody eye socket was a trophy: proof that though Rengar was born with disadvantages, he never gave up.
Rengar leapt onto his father and gutted him from neck to belly. The fiercest hunters of the tribe crowned him with flame-roses, marking him as their new chieftain.
But Rengar didn't need his village's acceptance. All he needed was adrenaline pumping through his veins as he chased down his prey. He left the village, without even pausing to take a trophy from what was left of Ponjaf—his father was not a kill worthy of remembering. Instead, he set off determined to find and slay the Void creature that had tried to blind him.
Not to satisfy the Kiilash, but to satisfy himself.
", "short": "Rengar is a ferocious vastayan trophy hunter who lives for the thrill of tracking down and killing dangerous creatures. He scours the world for the most fearsome beasts he can find, especially seeking any trace of Kha’Zix, the void creature who scratched out his eye. Rengar stalks his prey neither for food nor glory, but for the sheer beauty of the pursuit.", "quote": "“Prey on the weak and you may survive. Prey on the strong and you will truly live.”", "quote-author": "Rengar" }, "headerImage": null } ] }, { "slug": "bts-new-dawn", "type": "featured-video", "featured-image": { "title": "bts-new-dawn.png", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/c740bfec6cee6f93ebbdb3bc075fc64890821128-1911x1079.png?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1911, "height": 1079, "x": 1495, "y": 67, "featured-champions": [] }, "title": "A New Dawn: BTS", "subtitle": "", "description": "Check out the behind-the-scenes video below for a look at how we tapped into character design, music, animation, and even classic Foley techniques to showcase some of your favorite champions slugging it out for blood, guts, and glory.", "uri": "https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q40IfQbYlSw", "video": { "type": "video", "title": "", "subtitle": "", "description": [], "uri": "https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q40IfQbYlSw", "width": "", "height": "", "x": "", "y": "", "featured-champions": [] }, "release-date": "2014-07-22T15:00:00.000Z", "video-type": "behind-the-scenes", "featured-champions": [ { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2011-12-14T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Ahri", "title": "the Nine-Tailed Fox", "section-title": "Ahri", "slug": "ahri", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ionia", "image": { "title": "Ahri_Base_Final_v2.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/9e99dedf6a6e2c1e74bdfb81bd5a0a23b3ff4200-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1296, "y": 158, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Ahri_Base_Final_v2.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/9e99dedf6a6e2c1e74bdfb81bd5a0a23b3ff4200-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1296, "y": 158, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/ahri", "video": null, "races": [ { "name": "Vastaya", "slug": "vastaya" } ], "roles": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/ahri", "biography": { "full": "For most of her life, Ahri's origins were a mystery to her, the history of her vastayan tribe all but lost save for the twin gemstones she has carried her entire life.
\n\nAhri's earliest memories are of running with icefoxes in the northern reaches of Shon-Xan. Though she knew she was not one of them, they clearly saw her as something of a kindred spirit, and came to accept her within the pack.
\nIn that wild, predatory existence, Ahri nonetheless felt a deeper connection to the forests around her. In time, she came to understand that this was the magic of the vastaya that coursed through every fiber of her being, and the realm of spirits that lay beyond. With no one to teach her, instead she learned to call upon this power in her own ways—most often using it to quicken her reflexes in pursuit of prey. If she was careful and close enough, she also found she might soothe a panicked deer, so that it remained serene and calm even as she and her packmates sank their teeth into its flesh.
\nThe world of mortals was as distant and unsettling to Ahri as it was to the icefoxes, but she felt drawn to it for reasons she could not explain. Humans in particular were coarse, gruff creatures… and when a band of huntsmen camped nearby, Ahri watched them from afar as they went about their grim business.
\nWhen one of them was wounded by a stray arrow, Ahri could feel his life seeping away. Knowing nothing but the instincts of a predator, she savored the spirit essence leaving his body, and through it gained brief flashes of his memories—the lover he had lost in battle, and the children he had left behind when he came north. Ahri subtly pushed his emotions from fear to sorrow to joy, and comforted him with visions of a sun-soaked meadow as he died.
\nAfterward, she found that human words now came to her easily, like something from a half-remembered dream, and Ahri knew the time had come to leave the pack behind.
\nKeeping to the fringes of society, she felt more alive than ever. Her predatory nature remained, but she was caught up in a riot of new experiences, emotions, and customs across Ionia. Mortals, it seemed, also became fascinated by her in return—and she often used this to her advantage, draining their essence while charming them with recollections of beauty, hallucinations of deep longing, and occasionally dreams colored by raw sorrow.
\nShe grew drunk on memories that were not her own, and exhilarated in ending the lives of others even as she felt the grief and woe she brought to her victims. She experienced heartbreak and elation in tantalizing flashes that left her craving more. It was overwhelming, but she sensed her own power fading whenever she tried to stay away, and could not help but partake again and again…
\nIn time, she began to see herself as mortals did: a monster.
\nUntil one day, an artist stumbled upon her, hunched over a man as she drained his life essence from him. Where others would run, he stayed, offering his own life essence in exchange for her heart. For the first time in her life, Ahri let herself fall in love and be loved, wholly and completely.
\nTheir days passed in warmth and laughter, Ahri curbing her hunger by feeding on her lover. She was truly happy... until she lost control, draining her lover completely.
\nAhri fell into despair, her grief consuming her as she mourned the loss of the first and only person she's ever truly loved. The first and only person who ever truly loved her. Retreating even further from society, she became consumed with learning more about where she came from, in hopes that it would help her control her abilities.
\n\nWith her twin sunstones in hand, she set out in search of others like her, a journey that would take her out of Ionia and across Runeterra, eventually leading her to the discovery of her ancestors, the Vesani, a vastayan tribe that brought innovation and magic to the world before being wiped out.
\n\nInspired by their memories, Ahri has set off to travel the world in search of other remnants of the Vesani. She hopes to carry their legacy forward, bringing good into the world like they did. No longer burdened by the heavy weight of her regrets, she also hopes to finally leave her stolen memories behind and create new memories of her own making.
", "short": "Innately connected to the magic of the spirit realm, Ahri is a fox-like vastaya who can manipulate her prey's emotions and consume their essence—receiving flashes of their memory and insight from each soul she consumes. Once a powerful yet wayward predator, Ahri is now traveling the world in search of remnants of her ancestors while also trying to replace her stolen memories with ones of her own making.
", "quote": "“Human emotions can be more volatile than even the deepest magic.”", "quote-author": "Ahri" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-05-23T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Darius", "title": "the Hand of Noxus", "section-title": "Darius", "slug": "darius", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "noxus", "image": { "title": "Darius_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd6bd9efb4295687e683fd97d67a509d3ed6c26f-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 745, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Darius_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd6bd9efb4295687e683fd97d67a509d3ed6c26f-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 745, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/darius", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/darius", "biography": { "full": "Darius and his brother Draven grew up as orphans in the port city of Basilich. Darius struggled to provide for them both, constantly fighting with gangs of older urchins and anyone else who threatened his little brother—even the city guard. Every day on the streets was a battle for survival, and Darius earned more scars by his twelfth summer than some soldiers do in a lifetime.
After Basilich was seized by the expanding Noxian empire, the victorious commander Cyrus saw the strength in these defiant brothers, and they found a home within the ranks of his warhost. Over the years, they fought in many grueling campaigns of conquest from one end of the known world to the other, as well as crushing a number of rebellions against the throne.
Within the empire, anyone could rise to power, no matter their birth, culture, or background, and none embraced this ideal more fervently than Darius. From humble beginnings, he rose steadily through the ranks, always putting duty before all else, and garnering great respect for his aggression, discipline, and refusal to ever take a backward step. On the bloodsoaked fields of Dalamor Plain, he even beheaded a Noxian general after the coward ordered a retreat. Roaring in defiance and hefting his bloodied axe overhead, Darius rallied the scattered warbands and won a great and unexpected victory against a far more numerous foe.
He was rewarded with a senior command of his own, attracting many thousands of eager recruits from across the empire. Darius turned the majority away, accepting only the strongest, the most disciplined and iron-willed. Such was his fearsome notoriety, even in the lands beyond Noxus, that it was not uncommon for entire cities to surrender at the first sight of his banners.
After a grinding victory against the cloud-fortresses of the Varju, a proud warrior people who had resisted decades of Noxian aggression, Darius was named the Hand of Noxus by Emperor Boram Darkwill himself. Those who knew Darius best knew he craved neither power nor adulation—he wished merely to see Noxus triumph over all—so Darkwill ordered him and his warhosts far north into the Freljord, to finally bring the barbarian tribes to heel.
The campaign dragged on for years, ending in a bitter, icy stalemate. Darius narrowly survived assassination attempts, ambushes, and even capture by the vicious Winter’s Claw. He was growing weary of endless wars of attrition, and returned to Noxus to demand a reconsolidation of the military.
He marched his veterans into the capital, only to find that the emperor was dead, killed in a coup led by Jericho Swain. The act had been supported by many allies, including Darius’s own brother, Draven.
This was a difficult position. As Hand, many of the noble houses would expect Darius to avenge Darkwill, but he had known and greatly respected the disgraced general Swain, and had spoken against his discharge after the botched offensive in Ionia some years earlier. The oaths of the Hand were to Noxus, not any particular ruler, and Swain was a man who spoke honestly of his new vision for the empire. Darius realized this was a leader he was prepared to follow... but Swain had other ideas.
With the establishment of the Trifarix, three individuals would rule Noxus together, each embodying one principle of strength: Vision, Might, and Guile. Darius gladly accepted his place on this council, and pledged to raise a new, elite force—the Trifarian Legion, the most loyal and prestigious warriors the empire could produce—and lead the armies of Noxus into a glorious new age of conquest.
", "short": "There is no greater symbol of Noxian might than Darius, the nation’s most feared and battle-hardened leader. Rising from humble origins to become the Hand of Noxus, he cleaves through the empire’s enemies—many of them Noxians themselves. Knowing that he never doubts his cause is just, and never hesitates once his axe is raised, those who stand against the commander of the Trifarian Legion can expect no mercy.", "quote": "“History only remembers the victors. Stand with Noxus, and be remembered forever.”", "quote-author": "Darius" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-06-06T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Draven", "title": "the Glorious Executioner", "section-title": "Draven", "slug": "draven", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "noxus", "image": { "title": "Draven_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/1b9079d79643c08bc25c143418b96c5883d48b52-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1025, "y": 100, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Draven_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/1b9079d79643c08bc25c143418b96c5883d48b52-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1025, "y": 100, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/draven", "video": { "title": "draven-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/d0401bda8b06ded2817d6edeecb5be000345b7ea.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 1050, "y": 100, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/draven", "biography": { "full": "Even as an orphan on the streets of Basilich, Draven was headstrong and full of bravado, frequently getting into vicious brawls with older street children and shady underworld thugs. While supremely confident in his own ability—some would say overconfident—it is unlikely he would have survived childhood had it not been for his older brother, Darius, who invariably finished the fights Draven started.
When Basilich fell to the warhosts of Noxus, the brothers came to the attention of a captain named Cyrus, after Draven made an ill-considered attempt on his life. Impressed with their fighting spirit, Cyrus allowed them to join the Noxian ranks.
For years, the brothers fought as part of Cyrus’ warhost—yet while Darius took to this life easily, Draven grew steadily more bored. His martial skill was beyond question, but the daily drudgery of soldiering felt like too much effort for too little reward… and not enough personal glory.
Darius inevitably rose to command his own warband, and Draven joined him. However, if he thought that would be easier, or a way to achieve greater individual recognition, he was sorely disappointed.
Some say Draven chose to leave Darius’ command. Some say he was forced out. Either way, his skills were highly sought after as a champion and duelist, and he was enticed to join a succession of warbands during the occupation of Ionia, before ending up with a fairly respectable contract in the Reckoning pits.
For centuries, the gladiatorial Reckoners had performed a vital role in Noxus—punishing criminals and settling disputes between the noble houses—and Draven was determined to receive the riches, adoration, and renown he felt he deserved. However, with long, protracted wars on many fronts, the spectacle was beginning to lose its appeal for the common citizen. As the attention of the crowds drifted, Draven fell into a slump, spending more and more time in the seedier drinking halls and gambling dens of the capital.
He was washed-up and broke when the former general Jericho Swain found him.
Swain had a plan to reclaim Noxus’ lost glory, and needed Draven’s help to achieve it. Perhaps Swain only enlisted him as a way to ensure his brother Darius’ support after the fact. Regardless, Draven proved integral to Swain’s plan—to depose the Grand General himself, Boram Darkwill.
Standing triumphant with Swain, Draven smiled for the first time in months as the cheers of the Noxian people washed over him.
But duty called. In the days and weeks following this unprecedented coup, many among the noble elite refused to honor Swain’s succession, so they were sentenced to death in the arena.
One condemned man escaped his handlers ahead of his execution. Operating on pure instinct—as was ever his wont—Draven leapt from the high balcony and hurled a pair of axes at the fleeing man, cutting him down in a heartbeat. After a moment of stunned silence, the crowd roared their approval. Draven retrieved his axes, spinning them high in the air, playing to his new fans, and savoring their rapturous applause.
Thus Draven became the Glorious Executioner, turning routine bouts into grand spectacles that drew ever larger crowds.
Soon enough, an enterprising (and diminutive) promoter, tired of paying to house, feed, and train Reckoners only for them to die in front of dwindling audiences, approached Draven with an idea. What if the drama of the classic pit fights could be combined with Draven’s natural showmanship?
The Reckoners quickly became entertainers as much as combatants, each with their own carefully constructed backstory, fighting style, and flamboyant personality. The fights were often bloody—this was still Noxus after all—but far less often ended in death. The rivalries, trash-talking, and intrigue between the best-known Reckoners became the stuff of legend throughout the empire, but none were talked about more than Draven.
For a time he lived the high life, receiving invitations to a never-ending stream of parties and banquets, mixing with the wealthy and influential of Swain’s new Noxus. He even reconciled with Darius, and would occasionally still march out with the warhosts, defeating enemy champions and generals in single combat.
Nevertheless, Draven has started to grow restless once again. He has all that he could have ever imagined, and more, but now dreams of the day when the whole world knows his name.
", "short": "In Noxus, warriors known as reckoners face one another in arenas where blood is spilled and strength tested—but none has ever been as celebrated as Draven. A former soldier, he found that the crowds uniquely appreciated his flair for the dramatic, not to mention the spray of blood from each of his spinning axes. Addicted to the spectacle of his own brash perfection, Draven has sworn to defeat whomever he must to ensure that his name is chanted throughout the empire forever more.", "quote": "'' 'The best' is wherever I decide to set the bar each day.''", "quote-author": "Draven" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2011-07-13T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Leona", "title": "the Radiant Dawn", "section-title": "Leona", "slug": "leona", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "mount-targon", "image": { "title": "Leona_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd31d8599bfa6d1a64e1a6ecde13548356ea525c-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1061, "y": 41, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Leona_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd31d8599bfa6d1a64e1a6ecde13548356ea525c-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1061, "y": 41, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/leona", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/leona", "biography": { "full": "Among the Rakkor tribes that dwell upon Mount Targon, the sun is sacred, and none venerate it more than the Solari. Children are raised from birth to honor it, and even to shed blood for it, until its Aspect returns, heralding a grave threat they all must face.
Leona was one such child. She took to the Solari faith as naturally as breathing, finding solace and warmth within its rigid structure. This manifested through her rapid achievement of excellence, her peers envious of her capability, willpower, and devotion. None doubted she would one day become one of the Ra’Horak, the holy warriors of the Solari.
Though Leona flourished, she could not help but see her masters struggle with their most exasperating student, an orphan named Diana. Her curiosity was welcomed at first, but soon the teachers began to perceive Diana’s questions as challenging the Solari ways. Leona watched Diana suffer punishment and isolation—but where others saw insolence, she saw a lost soul devoted to a search for meaning.
Leona found her purpose in the Solari teachings, and resolved to share it with Diana as even the most dutiful teachers forsook her. The two would debate late into the night, with Leona hoping to persuade Diana that everything she could ever want was there in the faith, waiting for her to accept it. Though she failed to win Diana over, Leona did find a friend.
One night, Diana confided a secret to Leona. She spoke of discovering a hidden alcove in the mountain, an ancient place where the walls were etched with depictions of strange symbols and forgotten societies. When Diana mentioned climbing the summit of Mount Targon to learn more, Leona urged her to stop. Seeking to protect her from the ire of the other Solari, Leona made Diana promise to abandon this search. Reluctantly, Diana agreed.
Time passed, and the two never spoke of Diana’s discovery again. Leona believed her friend had finally come to her senses.
Her belief was shattered late one night, when she glimpsed Diana slipping out of the temple. While her first instinct was to tell the elders, Leona thought instead of protecting her friend, wresting her back from the edge. Resolved, Leona set off after Diana…
To the summit of Mount Targon.
The ascent was a trial unlike any Leona had ever endured, straining every fiber of her being to its limit, and beyond. Her training, willpower, and concern for Diana was all that drove her on. The unblinking eyes of bodies frozen into the mountain's slopes watched her climb, their own journeys forever incomplete, but not even they could deter her.
After what seemed an eternity—and much to her own amazement—Leona reached the peak.
Exhausted, she beheld an uncanny landscape, and found Diana engulfed in a coruscating column of silver light. Leona saw her friend’s silhouette writhing in agony, the air rippling with her screams. Horrified, Leona rushed to her aid, when a golden radiance slashed down from the heavens to envelop her.
The sensation was indescribable, but rather than incinerating Leona, the illumination coursed into her, suffusing her with incredible power. She clung to her consciousness, fighting the current seeking to sear away her very being.
Ultimately, her indomitable will triumphed—and with that control came understanding.
With control came understanding. Leona was forever changed, imbued by the Aspect of the Sun. Destiny had selected her, and it was her duty to protect the Solari in the times to come.
It was then that Leona saw Diana, clad in gleaming silver war-plate, a strange reflection of the golden armor she discovered herself now wearing. Diana begged Leona to join her, to seek out answers the Solari could not offer. Leona demanded they return home, and present themselves for the priests’ judgment. Neither conceded, and they finally felt the weight of the weapons in their hands.
Their combat was swift, a blistering clash between sun and moon, ending with Diana’s crescent blade at Leona’s throat. But, rather than delivering the killing blow, Diana fled. Devastated, Leona descended Targon and hurried to her elders.
When she arrived, she found slaughter. Many Solari priests and their Ra’Horak guardians were dead, seemingly slain by Diana’s hand. The survivors were awed by the presence of two Aspects now in their midst, and Leona was committed to helping them navigate this new reality—the guiding light to her people, just as the sun had always been.
She has sworn to find Diana, to preserve the dominance of the Solari... but also to help her old friend control the Moon Aspect’s power before it destroys her.
", "short": "Imbued with the fire of the sun, Leona is a holy warrior of the Solari who defends Mount Targon with her Zenith Blade and the Shield of Daybreak. Her skin shimmers with starfire while her eyes burn with the power of the celestial Aspect within her. Armored in gold and bearing a terrible burden of ancient knowledge, Leona brings enlightenment to some, death to others.", "quote": "“By the light of the Sun, the world is beheld.”", "quote-author": "Leona" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2011-10-19T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Graves", "title": "the Outlaw", "section-title": "Graves", "slug": "graves", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "bilgewater", "image": { "title": "Graves_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/e98c383d56b9f60ae73cf0a24653dba19a6556a1-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1021, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Graves_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/e98c383d56b9f60ae73cf0a24653dba19a6556a1-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1021, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/graves", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/graves", "biography": { "full": "Raised in the wharf alleys of Bilgewater, Malcolm Graves quickly learned how to fight and how to steal, skills that would serve him very well in all the years ahead. He could always find work hauling contraband up from the smugglers’ skiffs that came into the bay each night—with a tidy side-gig as hired muscle for various other unsavory local characters, as they went about their business in the port.
\nBut the alleys were small-time, and he craved more excitement than they could offer. Still little more than a youth, Graves stole a blunderbuss and smuggled himself aboard a ship headed out of Bilgewater to the Shuriman mainland, where he stole, lied, and gambled his way from place to place along the coast.
\nAcross the table of a high-stakes—and highly illegal—card game in Mudtown, Graves met a man who would change the course of his life, and his career: the trickster now known to many as Twisted Fate.
\nEach immediately saw in the other the same reckless passion for danger and adventure, and together they formed a most lucrative partnership. Between Graves’ raw brawn and Twisted Fate’s ability to talk his way out of (and occasionally back into) almost any situation, they were an unusually effective team from the outset. Their mutual sense of roguish honor grew into genuine trust, and together they stole from the rich, swindled the foolish, handpicked skilled crews for specific jobs, and sold out their rivals whenever they could.
\nThough at times Twisted Fate would blow all their shares and leave them with nothing to show for it, Graves knew that the thrill of some new escapade was always just around the corner…
\nOn the southern borderlands of Valoran, they set two renowned noble houses of Noxus at each other’s throats as cover for the rescue of a kidnapped heir. That they pocketed the reward money, only to ransom the vile young man to the highest bidder, should really have come as no surprise to their original employer. In Piltover, they still hold the distinction of being the only thieves ever to crack the supposedly impenetrable Clockwork Vault. Not only did the pair empty the vault of all its treasures, they also tricked the guards into loading the loot onto their hijacked schooner, for a quick getaway through the Sun Gates.
\nIn almost every case, only once they and their accomplices were safely over the horizon were their crimes even discovered—usually along with one of Twisted Fate’s trademark calling cards left where it would be easily found.
\nBut, eventually, their luck ran out.
\nDuring a heist that rapidly turned from complex to completely botched, Graves was taken by the local enforcers, while Twisted Fate merely turned tail and abandoned him.
\nThrown into the infamous prison known as the Locker, Graves endured years of torture and solitary confinement, during which time he nursed his bitter anger toward his old partner. A lesser man would surely have been broken by all this, but not Malcolm Graves. He was determined to have his revenge.
\nWhen he finally clawed his way to freedom, with the prison warden’s brand new shotgun slung over his shoulder, Graves began his long-overdue pursuit of Twisted Fate.
\nThe search led him back home to Bilgewater, where he found that the wily old cardsharp had acquired a few new bounties on his head—and Graves would be only too happy to claim them. However, just as he got Twisted Fate in his sights, they were forced to put aside their differences in order to escape almost certain death in the ongoing conflict between the reaver king Gangplank and his rival ship captains.
\nOnce again, Graves found himself escaping his hometown… only this time, he had his old friend in tow. While both of them might have liked to pick up their partnership where they left off all those years ago, such resentment couldn't simply be forgotten overnight, and it would be a while before Graves could bring himself to trust Twisted Fate again.
\nStill, he feels Bilgewater calling to him once more. Maybe this time around, the pair of them will find their stride and be able to pull off the ultimate heist…
", "short": "Malcolm Graves is a renowned mercenary, gambler, and thief—a wanted man in every city and empire he has visited. Even though he has an explosive temper, he possesses a sense of criminal honor, often enforced at the business end of his double-barreled shotgun Destiny. In recent years, he has reconciled a troubled partnership with Twisted Fate, and together they have prospered once more in the turmoil of Bilgewater’s criminal underbelly.", "quote": "“We’re here for your gold, not your heads… so don’t nobody decide to be a hero.”", "quote-author": "Graves" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2009-02-21T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Jax", "title": "Grandmaster at Arms", "section-title": "Jax", "slug": "jax", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "unaffiliated", "image": { "title": "jax_splash_new.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/a8d3b960b33b5850f5c3b8e65a0afb54fde80e11-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1320, "y": 350, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "jax_splash_new.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/a8d3b960b33b5850f5c3b8e65a0afb54fde80e11-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1320, "y": 350, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/jax", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/jax", "biography": { "full": "Saijax Cail-Rynx Icath’un grew up in Icathia, a satrapy of the Shuriman empire. Ever since he was a boy, his father told him of when their home was a proud, independent nation, before it was ground under the heel of Shuriman oppression. He told him of the Kohari, heroes who protected Icathia and its Mage King. The Mage King had resisted Shurima’s conquest, but when he died in battle, his Kohari protectors followed him, committing ritual suicide. The Shuriman emperor displayed the Kohari’s decaying bodies for all to see, and the Mage King himself was impaled above the city gates, his bones left to molder.
\nSaijax’s father had witnessed this cruel act, and over time he passed down to his son the burning resentment that was growing in every Icathian heart. Even so, Saijax committed himself to the study of arms, learning from Shurima’s weapons masters as well as his own clan’s elders.
\nAfter many centuries of Shuriman rule, a massive earthquake struck the coastal province of Saabera. The destruction revealed something hidden deep beneath the earth, something dark and of great power—perhaps strong enough even to overcome Shurima’s god-like Ascended warriors. Saijax was entrusted with protecting the Icathian mages who encountered this discovery… which the guards just barely contained with brazier-staves that blazed with conjured elemental fire. Disturbed, he escorted the mages to the governing council so they could tell of what they’d learned.
\nThey called this power the Void.
\nImmediately the council recognized its potential, but Saijax saw the doom the Void portended. As a master of weaponry, he knew the danger of using a weapon they could neither fully understand nor safely harness. He regretted that he didn’t kill the mages as they rode from Saabera. He would regret it even more in the days to come.
\nConfident that the Void could defeat their Shuriman overlords, the council crowned a new Mage King. The Kohari were rebuilt, with Saijax among the first to join their ranks. They triumphed in early engagements, and Saijax even killed one of the vaunted Ascended in battle, watching with pride as its corpse was paraded around the liberated city of Bai-Zhek.
\nWhen the Ascended Host approached Icathia, Saijax and his brethren assembled on the front lines. As the two armies churned the earth beneath them into crimson loam, Icathia’s mages and priests deemed the time had come to unleash the Void.
\nRuin swept over the land, as Icathians, Shurimans, and even Ascended were unraveled from existence. The city’s walls collapsed as the Void swallowed thousands into cold, silent oblivion.
\nIn moments, Icathia was lost.
\nSaijax rode to the ruined crater where the Void had been summoned, determined to fall upon his sword like the Kohari of old. But before he could take his life, he saw among the devastation a discarded brazier-stave that he recognized from Saabera—it still blazed with elemental fire that harmed the Void. This flame kindled a spark in Saijax’s heart. He took up the stave and left behind the ruins of his homeland, tending to this “last light of Icathia”, and the hope it represented.
\nGrieving and ashamed, Saijax Cail-Rynx Kohari Icath’un forsook his old name, and from that day was known only as Jax.
\nHe became a wanderer, traveling across the known world and to places beyond any map. As he bore the elemental fire, Jax’s life extended beyond even the expectations of his long-lived people. Yet the farther he went from Icathia, the lower the flame burned, until it threatened to gutter out once and for all. Jax understood with grim resolution that he couldn’t run from his past. He had a duty to return, and fight. The advance of the Void had been halted by the last surviving Ascended, but its singular threat endured.
\nFor centuries since, Jax has roamed, a vagabond warrior searching for those strong enough to rebuild the Kohari. Though he has fought countless times against beings of great skill, courage, and power, none have yet convinced him that they can march against the coming darkness. The fall of Icathia has plagued Jax with doubt, but one thing remains certain: when the final battle comes, Jax will stand against the Void.
\nEven if he has to face it alone.
", "short": "Runeterra’s greatest weapons master, Jax is the only survivor of the Kohari—champions sworn to the defense of Icathia. But when the Void was unleashed against the Shuriman empire’s Ascended Host, Icathia was destroyed, leaving Jax without a home or purpose. He gathered the “last light of Icathia”, a symbol of his hope to one day defeat the Void, and now travels the world, searching for warriors strong enough to face the coming darkness by his side.", "quote": "“Strength and will are what make a weapon.”", "quote-author": "Jax" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2009-09-19T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Katarina", "title": "the Sinister Blade", "section-title": "Katarina", "slug": "katarina", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "noxus", "image": { "title": "Katarina_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0b61440f72501d55b2a1b02752b74c28680ee09d-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 822, "y": 356, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Katarina_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0b61440f72501d55b2a1b02752b74c28680ee09d-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 822, "y": 356, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/katarina", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/katarina", "biography": { "full": "Born to one of the most respected noble families of Noxus, Katarina Du Couteau found herself elevated above others from an early age. While her younger sister Cassiopeia took after their politically brilliant mother, Katarina was very much her father’s daughter, and the wily General Du Couteau pushed her to learn the way of the blade; to cut away the empire’s enemies not with reckless brutality, but deadly precision. He was a harsh teacher with many pupils, and notoriously difficult to impress.
So it was that Katarina’s childhood—if it can be called such—had little room for kindness or rest. She spent every waking moment honing herself into the ultimate weapon, testing her endurance, her dexterity, her tolerance for pain. She stole poisons from the city’s least reputable apothecaries, testing their efficacy in tiny increments upon herself, gradually building her resistance even as she catalogued their effects. She scaled the tallest towers in the dead of night, unseen by anyone.
She yearned to do her part for Noxus. She yearned for the opportunity to demonstrate her hidden strengths in service of the empire, and the throne.
Her first mark came straight from her father, camped with his warbands on the eve of one of the military’s innumerable westward invasions… She was to assassinate a line officer of the opposing army, a low-born wretch by the name of Demetrius.
Katarina was livid. She hadn’t trained her entire life to have her talents wasted on some dungheel barely skilled enough to swing a sword! He simply wouldn’t do. Instead of her assigned target, Katarina stole into the enemy camp and slit the enemy commander’s throat as he slept. It was a flawless execution. It would bring a swift victory, and glory to Noxus. It would make her father proud.
At dawn, his face daubed with ashes, the vengeful hero Demetrius led a berzerk charge into her father’s encampment. Dozens of Noxian soldiers were slaughtered, along with the general’s personal retinue. Katarina’s father himself barely escaped with his life.
He was furious beyond words, refusing even to look his daughter in the eye. She had shamed him, and their family name. The greatest assassins do not seek recognition or glory, he reminded her. They do not expect to occupy a place of honor at their master’s right hand.
Overwhelmed, Katarina struck out into the wilderness, alone. She would complete her original mission. Demetrius would pay with his life. Even so, her mind swam. Could she ever forgive herself? How had she been so foolish?
She was so distracted, she didn’t see her attacker until he had nearly taken her eye out.
For Katarina’s failure, General Du Couteau had sent another of his protégés after her; a nameless whelp dragged up from one of the lesser assassins’ guilds. But even with blood streaming down her face, the years of rigorous training kicked in, and her blades were in her hands in an instant.
Six hours later, she tossed Demetrius’s severed head at her father’s feet.
She told the general she had considered taking his head instead, but eventually decided—as much as she hated to admit it—that he had done the right thing in ordering her death. She had failed. Not just as an assassin, or as a daughter, but as a Noxian.
And failure must have its consequences. She ran her fingers along the raw, deep gash over her left eye, and thought of the price others had paid for her arrogance.
She knew she had lost her father’s favor, and could never regain it. He would raise others in her place, simply to spite her. Still, she vowed to redeem herself, no matter the cost—to rededicate her talents to the empire, and to become the sinister weapon she always intended to be.
", "short": "Decisive in judgment and lethal in combat, Katarina is a Noxian assassin of the highest caliber. Eldest daughter to the legendary General Du Couteau, she made her talents known with swift kills against unsuspecting enemies. Her fiery ambition has driven her to pursue heavily-guarded targets, even at the risk of endangering her allies—but no matter the mission, Katarina will not hesitate to execute her duty amid a whirlwind of serrated daggers.", "quote": "''Never question my loyalty. You will never know what I endure for it.''", "quote-author": "Katarina" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-02-14T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Nautilus", "title": "the Titan of the Depths", "section-title": "Nautilus", "slug": "nautilus", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "bilgewater", "image": { "title": "Nautilus_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0381e43e608994c7c4cd30b4bea8b2af00b44401-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1075, "y": 4, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Nautilus_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0381e43e608994c7c4cd30b4bea8b2af00b44401-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1075, "y": 4, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/nautilus", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/nautilus", "biography": { "full": "To understand the legend of Nautilus, one must first know the man—for even the tallest of tavern tales agree, he was indeed a man.
Though the waves have washed away the name he was born with, most remember Nautilus as no mere sailor, but as a salvage diver. Just beyond the southernmost reach of the Blue Flame Isles lies a graveyard of ships, rumored lost while searching for a blessed land, looking to trade wealth for immortality. On a fair day, their glittering holds beckon from beneath the surface. Many crews sought divers to collect the lost fortune, and none could match the skill of the quick-sinking hulk of solid muscle that was Nautilus.
With lungs that could steal the air from a galleon’s sails, Nautilus preferred to freedive. Always bringing up plenty of gold or jewels for the crew, the man demanded no special wages—he asked only that the captain toss a coin overboard as they set out, honoring and appeasing the vast ocean. A sailor’s superstition to be sure, but many a sea-fearing crew made such offerings to ensure a safe return.
Years of salvage depleted the easy treasure, each haul becoming less and less, until one day Nautilus’s crew learned that their ship and working papers had been bought out from under them.
The dawn was scarlet the morning the new captain came aboard. Hailing from a foreign port, he brought with him a giant suit of brass and iron. He zeroed in on Nautilus; indeed, he had purchased the command because of Nautilus. It was clear the captain was obsessed with a specific wreck, one shrouded in darkness even on a fair day. The diving armor could withstand the pressures of the ocean floor far longer than any man, long enough to collect what was hidden in the abnormal murk.
The crew agreed working was better than starving, and Nautilus found himself being bolted into the suit, the wooden deck groaning under the load. Panic rose in his throat when he realized that they had nothing to pay the tithe. The foreign captain laughed as Nautilus was lowered into the water. He assured the crew that whatever the Bearded Lady was protecting would make them all rich beyond their wildest dreams. When Nautilus returned to the surface, they would make their silly sacrifice.
As Nautilus sank, the light above dimmed, and all grew quiet, the man’s own breath the only sound echoing in the iron suit. Then something reached out from the depths. He was being pulled down, and for the first time Nautilus felt liquid fear wrap itself around his heart. It was not treasure his captain sought, but some slumbering, eldritch power.
Nautilus grabbed the anchor chain, his last connection to the world above, and hauled himself up even as the thing below sought to drag him down. But the weight was too much. Just as his giant metal fingers were about to breach the surface, the chain snapped. Nautilus screamed within the suit, but none could hear him. He tumbled back into the inky maelstrom, clutching the sinking anchor in desperation. Dark tendrils enveloped him, and he could only watch as the dimming outline of his ship faded away. Then everything went black.
When Nautilus awoke on the ocean floor, he was something… different. The darkness could no longer hurt him. The great metal suit had become a seamless shell around him, concealing the bond that the primordial power had made with his spirit. Trapped in the sunless depths, he could remember only one thing—the new captain’s broken promise.
Nautilus vowed, there and then, that all would pay the ocean’s tithe. He would see to it himself.
Driven ever forward by this thought, he trudged toward the shore. But by the time he reached Bilgewater, years had passed, and he could find no traces of his captain or crew. There was no life to which he could return, no revenge he could take. Instead he returned to the sea, allowing his anger to surface on the greedy, gutting their ships with his mighty anchor.
Sometimes, in the tumble of waves, distant memories of who he was push up above the waterline… but always the man who is Nautilus stays drowned just below the surface.
", "short": "A lonely legend as old as the first piers sunk in Bilgewater, the armored goliath known as Nautilus roams the dark waters off the coast of the Blue Flame Isles. Driven by a forgotten betrayal, he strikes without warning, swinging his enormous anchor to save the wretched, and drag the greedy to their doom. It is said he comes for those who forget to pay the “Bilgewater tithe”, pulling them down beneath the waves with him—an iron-clad reminder that none can escape the depths.", "quote": "''When consumed by utter darkness, there is nothing left but forward.''", "quote-author": "Nautilus" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-08-21T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Rengar", "title": "the Pridestalker", "section-title": "Rengar", "slug": "rengar", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ixtal", "image": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/rengar", "video": { "title": "rengar-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/1d6b5b19b0a0c99fae110db5a04aa46ff3b29baf.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [ { "name": "Vastaya", "slug": "vastaya" } ], "roles": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/rengar", "biography": { "full": "Rengar hails from a tribe of Shuriman vastaya known as the Kiilash, whose society venerated the honor and glory of the hunt. Rengar was born the runt of the litter to the tribe's chieftain, Ponjaf. Ponjaf believed Rengar's diminutive size would make him a worthless hunter. He ignored his child, assuming the runt would starve to death.
Eventually, the young Rengar fled the camp, ashamed that he had disappointed his father. He subsisted on grubs and plants for weeks until, one day, he was nearly killed by a legendary human hunter named Markon. Upon seeing Rengar's state, he took pity on the creature and let it live. Besides, this was no mighty vastayan warrior worthy of Markon's blade.
Rengar spent months following Markon, feeding off the corpses the hunter left behind. He still hoped to one day rejoin his tribe, and so took great care in observing how Markon took down his quarries.
After some time, Markon grew sick of the pathetic Kiilash following him around. He put a knife to Rengar's throat and informed him that the only way to be a hunter was to hunt. He tossed Rengar the blade and kicked him down a ravine, where he was forced to make his first kill to survive.
From then on, Rengar spent years pushing himself almost to breaking point. He scoured Shurima for the most powerful and dangerous prey. Though he would never be as big as other Kiilash, Rengar was determined to be twice as ferocious. Over time, instead of coming back to his camp each time with fresh scars, he began to come back with trophies. He polished a sandhawk's skull to a sheen; he braided the teeth of a shrieker into his hair.
Then, when he decided the time had come, Rengar returned to his tribe, ready to be accepted as a true hunter.
Ponjaf scoffed at Rengar and his trophies. He decreed that only by bringing back the head of the elusive and legendary Void-abomination known as Kha'Zix would Rengar be welcomed back into the tribe.
Blinded by his eagerness, Rengar allowed this cunning beast to get the drop on him. The Void creature ripped out one of Rengar's eyes and escaped. Furious and defeated, Rengar admitted his failure to Ponjaf. As expected, his father chastised him.
But as Ponjaf spoke, Rengar noticed all the trophies adorning his father's hut were dusty and old. The chieftain had not hunted anything in a long time—he had likely sent Rengar after Kha'Zix because he was too afraid to do it himself.
Rengar interrupted his father and called him a coward. Many Kiilash were blessed with strong bodies or comfortable homes. Rengar, conversely, was born facing death. He had taught himself how to hunt, and had the trophies and scars to prove it. Even his own bloody eye socket was a trophy: proof that though Rengar was born with disadvantages, he never gave up.
Rengar leapt onto his father and gutted him from neck to belly. The fiercest hunters of the tribe crowned him with flame-roses, marking him as their new chieftain.
But Rengar didn't need his village's acceptance. All he needed was adrenaline pumping through his veins as he chased down his prey. He left the village, without even pausing to take a trophy from what was left of Ponjaf—his father was not a kill worthy of remembering. Instead, he set off determined to find and slay the Void creature that had tried to blind him.
Not to satisfy the Kiilash, but to satisfy himself.
", "short": "Rengar is a ferocious vastayan trophy hunter who lives for the thrill of tracking down and killing dangerous creatures. He scours the world for the most fearsome beasts he can find, especially seeking any trace of Kha’Zix, the void creature who scratched out his eye. Rengar stalks his prey neither for food nor glory, but for the sheer beauty of the pursuit.", "quote": "“Prey on the weak and you may survive. Prey on the strong and you will truly live.”", "quote-author": "Rengar" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-07-24T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Zyra", "title": "Rise of the Thorns", "section-title": "Zyra", "slug": "zyra", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ixtal", "image": { "title": "Zyra_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/35938ca5eed918f72a683ee4ce8fce265cdf2a53-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1070, "y": 38, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Zyra_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/35938ca5eed918f72a683ee4ce8fce265cdf2a53-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1070, "y": 38, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/zyra", "video": { "title": "zyra-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/374f35f73d16ac029e6f67b3c399f8094d92109b.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 1070, "y": 38, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/zyra", "biography": { "full": "Zyra’s memory is long, and runs as deep as the roots of the earth. Her kind was young when the Rune Wars raged, when mortal armies fought one another for the very keys of creation.
Hidden in the jungles south of Kumungu, somewhere between the great rivers that divide eastern Shurima, lay the fabled Gardens of Zyr. Elemental magics had turned the soil there in strange and unpredictable ways, giving rise to fierce, carnivorous plants that preyed upon any creature that strayed within reach. They infested and they devoured, caring nothing for the squabbles of mortals, content merely to coil their vines through the forests and swamplands. In their own way, they were all Zyra… and nourishment was plentiful, even in the midst of war.
A small company of soldiers, their allegiance long since lost to time, advanced through those lands in search of some now-forgotten prize. They were led by an ambitious sorceress—but they were far from home, bound to succumb to the noxious fumes and spores of that accursed place.
The denizens of the Gardens set upon them, spined tendrils lashing through armor and flesh with sadistic ease. Though they fought valiantly, the warriors knew they could not hold out long, and turned to their sorceress to save them. Gathering her powers, she wrought a mighty blast. The air burned with runic symbols, casting their eerie light even as the thorny overgrowth closed in.
In that very instant, a rogue spark ignited the gases of the swamp, and the resulting magical explosion obliterated every living thing for miles around. Of the scattered survivors of the Rune Wars, none would ever know what fate had befallen the Gardens of Zyr.
Centuries passed. The land where the battle had been fought lay empty and lifeless above ground… but in the depths, something stirred. Long had the energies that were unleashed there settled, and curdled, nourished by the fallout. A seedpod bulged, pulsing with unnatural life, until a creature clawed its way free, gasping and confused.
It beheld a broken and changed world, brimming with new vitality and new ideas. Its mind was a puzzle of conflicting memories, drawn from the loamy earth and forced into its fledgling consciousness. It could recall the warmth of the sun, the taste of rain, words of power, and the agony of a hundred mortal deaths.
It—she—called herself Zyra, without quite understanding why.
As she ventured out into the wildlands beyond her birthplace, Zyra knew she was different from other creatures she encountered. Mortals were fearful and unpleasant things, while more ethereal entities tended to be capricious, or arrogant. None of them seemed to respect the realms they inhabited, despoiling everything with their mere presence, and that filled Zyra with rage and contempt. Almost unbidden, new life sprang up in her footsteps—voracious plant forms that changed and evolved beneath her gaze, hurling poisonous barbs or sprouting fresh tendrils at an alarming rate.
Unrooted and free to wander, Zyra and her deadly progeny feed, and grow, strangling all other life from the world. She has blighted farmland, overrun entire settlements, and crushed those warriors brave or foolish enough to confront her, always leaving a menagerie of botanical horrors in her wake.
As the rivers of Shurima begin to run anew, strange flora has been sighted on their banks, spreading slowly westward with each passing season. Whether pulled from the earth or purged by fire, the growth does not seem to be slowing…
", "short": "Born in an ancient, sorcerous catastrophe, Zyra is the wrath of nature given form—an alluring hybrid of plant and human, kindling new life with every step. She views the many mortals of Valoran as little more than prey for her seeded progeny, and thinks nothing of slaying them with flurries of deadly spines. Though her true purpose has not been revealed, Zyra wanders the world, indulging her most primal urges to colonize, and strangle all other life from it.", "quote": "“Where are your friends? Mine are all around…”", "quote-author": "Zyra" }, "headerImage": null } ], "related-champions": [ { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2011-12-14T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Ahri", "title": "the Nine-Tailed Fox", "section-title": "Ahri", "slug": "ahri", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ionia", "image": { "title": "Ahri_Base_Final_v2.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/9e99dedf6a6e2c1e74bdfb81bd5a0a23b3ff4200-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1296, "y": 158, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Ahri_Base_Final_v2.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe_live/9e99dedf6a6e2c1e74bdfb81bd5a0a23b3ff4200-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1296, "y": 158, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/ahri", "video": null, "races": [ { "name": "Vastaya", "slug": "vastaya" } ], "roles": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/ahri", "biography": { "full": "For most of her life, Ahri's origins were a mystery to her, the history of her vastayan tribe all but lost save for the twin gemstones she has carried her entire life.
\n\nAhri's earliest memories are of running with icefoxes in the northern reaches of Shon-Xan. Though she knew she was not one of them, they clearly saw her as something of a kindred spirit, and came to accept her within the pack.
\nIn that wild, predatory existence, Ahri nonetheless felt a deeper connection to the forests around her. In time, she came to understand that this was the magic of the vastaya that coursed through every fiber of her being, and the realm of spirits that lay beyond. With no one to teach her, instead she learned to call upon this power in her own ways—most often using it to quicken her reflexes in pursuit of prey. If she was careful and close enough, she also found she might soothe a panicked deer, so that it remained serene and calm even as she and her packmates sank their teeth into its flesh.
\nThe world of mortals was as distant and unsettling to Ahri as it was to the icefoxes, but she felt drawn to it for reasons she could not explain. Humans in particular were coarse, gruff creatures… and when a band of huntsmen camped nearby, Ahri watched them from afar as they went about their grim business.
\nWhen one of them was wounded by a stray arrow, Ahri could feel his life seeping away. Knowing nothing but the instincts of a predator, she savored the spirit essence leaving his body, and through it gained brief flashes of his memories—the lover he had lost in battle, and the children he had left behind when he came north. Ahri subtly pushed his emotions from fear to sorrow to joy, and comforted him with visions of a sun-soaked meadow as he died.
\nAfterward, she found that human words now came to her easily, like something from a half-remembered dream, and Ahri knew the time had come to leave the pack behind.
\nKeeping to the fringes of society, she felt more alive than ever. Her predatory nature remained, but she was caught up in a riot of new experiences, emotions, and customs across Ionia. Mortals, it seemed, also became fascinated by her in return—and she often used this to her advantage, draining their essence while charming them with recollections of beauty, hallucinations of deep longing, and occasionally dreams colored by raw sorrow.
\nShe grew drunk on memories that were not her own, and exhilarated in ending the lives of others even as she felt the grief and woe she brought to her victims. She experienced heartbreak and elation in tantalizing flashes that left her craving more. It was overwhelming, but she sensed her own power fading whenever she tried to stay away, and could not help but partake again and again…
\nIn time, she began to see herself as mortals did: a monster.
\nUntil one day, an artist stumbled upon her, hunched over a man as she drained his life essence from him. Where others would run, he stayed, offering his own life essence in exchange for her heart. For the first time in her life, Ahri let herself fall in love and be loved, wholly and completely.
\nTheir days passed in warmth and laughter, Ahri curbing her hunger by feeding on her lover. She was truly happy... until she lost control, draining her lover completely.
\nAhri fell into despair, her grief consuming her as she mourned the loss of the first and only person she's ever truly loved. The first and only person who ever truly loved her. Retreating even further from society, she became consumed with learning more about where she came from, in hopes that it would help her control her abilities.
\n\nWith her twin sunstones in hand, she set out in search of others like her, a journey that would take her out of Ionia and across Runeterra, eventually leading her to the discovery of her ancestors, the Vesani, a vastayan tribe that brought innovation and magic to the world before being wiped out.
\n\nInspired by their memories, Ahri has set off to travel the world in search of other remnants of the Vesani. She hopes to carry their legacy forward, bringing good into the world like they did. No longer burdened by the heavy weight of her regrets, she also hopes to finally leave her stolen memories behind and create new memories of her own making.
", "short": "Innately connected to the magic of the spirit realm, Ahri is a fox-like vastaya who can manipulate her prey's emotions and consume their essence—receiving flashes of their memory and insight from each soul she consumes. Once a powerful yet wayward predator, Ahri is now traveling the world in search of remnants of her ancestors while also trying to replace her stolen memories with ones of her own making.
", "quote": "“Human emotions can be more volatile than even the deepest magic.”", "quote-author": "Ahri" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-05-23T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Darius", "title": "the Hand of Noxus", "section-title": "Darius", "slug": "darius", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "noxus", "image": { "title": "Darius_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd6bd9efb4295687e683fd97d67a509d3ed6c26f-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 745, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Darius_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd6bd9efb4295687e683fd97d67a509d3ed6c26f-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 745, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/darius", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/darius", "biography": { "full": "Darius and his brother Draven grew up as orphans in the port city of Basilich. Darius struggled to provide for them both, constantly fighting with gangs of older urchins and anyone else who threatened his little brother—even the city guard. Every day on the streets was a battle for survival, and Darius earned more scars by his twelfth summer than some soldiers do in a lifetime.
After Basilich was seized by the expanding Noxian empire, the victorious commander Cyrus saw the strength in these defiant brothers, and they found a home within the ranks of his warhost. Over the years, they fought in many grueling campaigns of conquest from one end of the known world to the other, as well as crushing a number of rebellions against the throne.
Within the empire, anyone could rise to power, no matter their birth, culture, or background, and none embraced this ideal more fervently than Darius. From humble beginnings, he rose steadily through the ranks, always putting duty before all else, and garnering great respect for his aggression, discipline, and refusal to ever take a backward step. On the bloodsoaked fields of Dalamor Plain, he even beheaded a Noxian general after the coward ordered a retreat. Roaring in defiance and hefting his bloodied axe overhead, Darius rallied the scattered warbands and won a great and unexpected victory against a far more numerous foe.
He was rewarded with a senior command of his own, attracting many thousands of eager recruits from across the empire. Darius turned the majority away, accepting only the strongest, the most disciplined and iron-willed. Such was his fearsome notoriety, even in the lands beyond Noxus, that it was not uncommon for entire cities to surrender at the first sight of his banners.
After a grinding victory against the cloud-fortresses of the Varju, a proud warrior people who had resisted decades of Noxian aggression, Darius was named the Hand of Noxus by Emperor Boram Darkwill himself. Those who knew Darius best knew he craved neither power nor adulation—he wished merely to see Noxus triumph over all—so Darkwill ordered him and his warhosts far north into the Freljord, to finally bring the barbarian tribes to heel.
The campaign dragged on for years, ending in a bitter, icy stalemate. Darius narrowly survived assassination attempts, ambushes, and even capture by the vicious Winter’s Claw. He was growing weary of endless wars of attrition, and returned to Noxus to demand a reconsolidation of the military.
He marched his veterans into the capital, only to find that the emperor was dead, killed in a coup led by Jericho Swain. The act had been supported by many allies, including Darius’s own brother, Draven.
This was a difficult position. As Hand, many of the noble houses would expect Darius to avenge Darkwill, but he had known and greatly respected the disgraced general Swain, and had spoken against his discharge after the botched offensive in Ionia some years earlier. The oaths of the Hand were to Noxus, not any particular ruler, and Swain was a man who spoke honestly of his new vision for the empire. Darius realized this was a leader he was prepared to follow... but Swain had other ideas.
With the establishment of the Trifarix, three individuals would rule Noxus together, each embodying one principle of strength: Vision, Might, and Guile. Darius gladly accepted his place on this council, and pledged to raise a new, elite force—the Trifarian Legion, the most loyal and prestigious warriors the empire could produce—and lead the armies of Noxus into a glorious new age of conquest.
", "short": "There is no greater symbol of Noxian might than Darius, the nation’s most feared and battle-hardened leader. Rising from humble origins to become the Hand of Noxus, he cleaves through the empire’s enemies—many of them Noxians themselves. Knowing that he never doubts his cause is just, and never hesitates once his axe is raised, those who stand against the commander of the Trifarian Legion can expect no mercy.", "quote": "“History only remembers the victors. Stand with Noxus, and be remembered forever.”", "quote-author": "Darius" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-06-06T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Draven", "title": "the Glorious Executioner", "section-title": "Draven", "slug": "draven", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "noxus", "image": { "title": "Draven_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/1b9079d79643c08bc25c143418b96c5883d48b52-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1025, "y": 100, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Draven_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/1b9079d79643c08bc25c143418b96c5883d48b52-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1025, "y": 100, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/draven", "video": { "title": "draven-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/d0401bda8b06ded2817d6edeecb5be000345b7ea.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 1050, "y": 100, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/draven", "biography": { "full": "Even as an orphan on the streets of Basilich, Draven was headstrong and full of bravado, frequently getting into vicious brawls with older street children and shady underworld thugs. While supremely confident in his own ability—some would say overconfident—it is unlikely he would have survived childhood had it not been for his older brother, Darius, who invariably finished the fights Draven started.
When Basilich fell to the warhosts of Noxus, the brothers came to the attention of a captain named Cyrus, after Draven made an ill-considered attempt on his life. Impressed with their fighting spirit, Cyrus allowed them to join the Noxian ranks.
For years, the brothers fought as part of Cyrus’ warhost—yet while Darius took to this life easily, Draven grew steadily more bored. His martial skill was beyond question, but the daily drudgery of soldiering felt like too much effort for too little reward… and not enough personal glory.
Darius inevitably rose to command his own warband, and Draven joined him. However, if he thought that would be easier, or a way to achieve greater individual recognition, he was sorely disappointed.
Some say Draven chose to leave Darius’ command. Some say he was forced out. Either way, his skills were highly sought after as a champion and duelist, and he was enticed to join a succession of warbands during the occupation of Ionia, before ending up with a fairly respectable contract in the Reckoning pits.
For centuries, the gladiatorial Reckoners had performed a vital role in Noxus—punishing criminals and settling disputes between the noble houses—and Draven was determined to receive the riches, adoration, and renown he felt he deserved. However, with long, protracted wars on many fronts, the spectacle was beginning to lose its appeal for the common citizen. As the attention of the crowds drifted, Draven fell into a slump, spending more and more time in the seedier drinking halls and gambling dens of the capital.
He was washed-up and broke when the former general Jericho Swain found him.
Swain had a plan to reclaim Noxus’ lost glory, and needed Draven’s help to achieve it. Perhaps Swain only enlisted him as a way to ensure his brother Darius’ support after the fact. Regardless, Draven proved integral to Swain’s plan—to depose the Grand General himself, Boram Darkwill.
Standing triumphant with Swain, Draven smiled for the first time in months as the cheers of the Noxian people washed over him.
But duty called. In the days and weeks following this unprecedented coup, many among the noble elite refused to honor Swain’s succession, so they were sentenced to death in the arena.
One condemned man escaped his handlers ahead of his execution. Operating on pure instinct—as was ever his wont—Draven leapt from the high balcony and hurled a pair of axes at the fleeing man, cutting him down in a heartbeat. After a moment of stunned silence, the crowd roared their approval. Draven retrieved his axes, spinning them high in the air, playing to his new fans, and savoring their rapturous applause.
Thus Draven became the Glorious Executioner, turning routine bouts into grand spectacles that drew ever larger crowds.
Soon enough, an enterprising (and diminutive) promoter, tired of paying to house, feed, and train Reckoners only for them to die in front of dwindling audiences, approached Draven with an idea. What if the drama of the classic pit fights could be combined with Draven’s natural showmanship?
The Reckoners quickly became entertainers as much as combatants, each with their own carefully constructed backstory, fighting style, and flamboyant personality. The fights were often bloody—this was still Noxus after all—but far less often ended in death. The rivalries, trash-talking, and intrigue between the best-known Reckoners became the stuff of legend throughout the empire, but none were talked about more than Draven.
For a time he lived the high life, receiving invitations to a never-ending stream of parties and banquets, mixing with the wealthy and influential of Swain’s new Noxus. He even reconciled with Darius, and would occasionally still march out with the warhosts, defeating enemy champions and generals in single combat.
Nevertheless, Draven has started to grow restless once again. He has all that he could have ever imagined, and more, but now dreams of the day when the whole world knows his name.
", "short": "In Noxus, warriors known as reckoners face one another in arenas where blood is spilled and strength tested—but none has ever been as celebrated as Draven. A former soldier, he found that the crowds uniquely appreciated his flair for the dramatic, not to mention the spray of blood from each of his spinning axes. Addicted to the spectacle of his own brash perfection, Draven has sworn to defeat whomever he must to ensure that his name is chanted throughout the empire forever more.", "quote": "'' 'The best' is wherever I decide to set the bar each day.''", "quote-author": "Draven" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2011-07-13T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Leona", "title": "the Radiant Dawn", "section-title": "Leona", "slug": "leona", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "mount-targon", "image": { "title": "Leona_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd31d8599bfa6d1a64e1a6ecde13548356ea525c-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1061, "y": 41, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Leona_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/bd31d8599bfa6d1a64e1a6ecde13548356ea525c-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1061, "y": 41, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/leona", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/leona", "biography": { "full": "Among the Rakkor tribes that dwell upon Mount Targon, the sun is sacred, and none venerate it more than the Solari. Children are raised from birth to honor it, and even to shed blood for it, until its Aspect returns, heralding a grave threat they all must face.
Leona was one such child. She took to the Solari faith as naturally as breathing, finding solace and warmth within its rigid structure. This manifested through her rapid achievement of excellence, her peers envious of her capability, willpower, and devotion. None doubted she would one day become one of the Ra’Horak, the holy warriors of the Solari.
Though Leona flourished, she could not help but see her masters struggle with their most exasperating student, an orphan named Diana. Her curiosity was welcomed at first, but soon the teachers began to perceive Diana’s questions as challenging the Solari ways. Leona watched Diana suffer punishment and isolation—but where others saw insolence, she saw a lost soul devoted to a search for meaning.
Leona found her purpose in the Solari teachings, and resolved to share it with Diana as even the most dutiful teachers forsook her. The two would debate late into the night, with Leona hoping to persuade Diana that everything she could ever want was there in the faith, waiting for her to accept it. Though she failed to win Diana over, Leona did find a friend.
One night, Diana confided a secret to Leona. She spoke of discovering a hidden alcove in the mountain, an ancient place where the walls were etched with depictions of strange symbols and forgotten societies. When Diana mentioned climbing the summit of Mount Targon to learn more, Leona urged her to stop. Seeking to protect her from the ire of the other Solari, Leona made Diana promise to abandon this search. Reluctantly, Diana agreed.
Time passed, and the two never spoke of Diana’s discovery again. Leona believed her friend had finally come to her senses.
Her belief was shattered late one night, when she glimpsed Diana slipping out of the temple. While her first instinct was to tell the elders, Leona thought instead of protecting her friend, wresting her back from the edge. Resolved, Leona set off after Diana…
To the summit of Mount Targon.
The ascent was a trial unlike any Leona had ever endured, straining every fiber of her being to its limit, and beyond. Her training, willpower, and concern for Diana was all that drove her on. The unblinking eyes of bodies frozen into the mountain's slopes watched her climb, their own journeys forever incomplete, but not even they could deter her.
After what seemed an eternity—and much to her own amazement—Leona reached the peak.
Exhausted, she beheld an uncanny landscape, and found Diana engulfed in a coruscating column of silver light. Leona saw her friend’s silhouette writhing in agony, the air rippling with her screams. Horrified, Leona rushed to her aid, when a golden radiance slashed down from the heavens to envelop her.
The sensation was indescribable, but rather than incinerating Leona, the illumination coursed into her, suffusing her with incredible power. She clung to her consciousness, fighting the current seeking to sear away her very being.
Ultimately, her indomitable will triumphed—and with that control came understanding.
With control came understanding. Leona was forever changed, imbued by the Aspect of the Sun. Destiny had selected her, and it was her duty to protect the Solari in the times to come.
It was then that Leona saw Diana, clad in gleaming silver war-plate, a strange reflection of the golden armor she discovered herself now wearing. Diana begged Leona to join her, to seek out answers the Solari could not offer. Leona demanded they return home, and present themselves for the priests’ judgment. Neither conceded, and they finally felt the weight of the weapons in their hands.
Their combat was swift, a blistering clash between sun and moon, ending with Diana’s crescent blade at Leona’s throat. But, rather than delivering the killing blow, Diana fled. Devastated, Leona descended Targon and hurried to her elders.
When she arrived, she found slaughter. Many Solari priests and their Ra’Horak guardians were dead, seemingly slain by Diana’s hand. The survivors were awed by the presence of two Aspects now in their midst, and Leona was committed to helping them navigate this new reality—the guiding light to her people, just as the sun had always been.
She has sworn to find Diana, to preserve the dominance of the Solari... but also to help her old friend control the Moon Aspect’s power before it destroys her.
", "short": "Imbued with the fire of the sun, Leona is a holy warrior of the Solari who defends Mount Targon with her Zenith Blade and the Shield of Daybreak. Her skin shimmers with starfire while her eyes burn with the power of the celestial Aspect within her. Armored in gold and bearing a terrible burden of ancient knowledge, Leona brings enlightenment to some, death to others.", "quote": "“By the light of the Sun, the world is beheld.”", "quote-author": "Leona" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2011-10-19T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Graves", "title": "the Outlaw", "section-title": "Graves", "slug": "graves", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "bilgewater", "image": { "title": "Graves_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/e98c383d56b9f60ae73cf0a24653dba19a6556a1-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1021, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Graves_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/e98c383d56b9f60ae73cf0a24653dba19a6556a1-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1021, "y": 0, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/graves", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Marksman", "slug": "marksman" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/graves", "biography": { "full": "Raised in the wharf alleys of Bilgewater, Malcolm Graves quickly learned how to fight and how to steal, skills that would serve him very well in all the years ahead. He could always find work hauling contraband up from the smugglers’ skiffs that came into the bay each night—with a tidy side-gig as hired muscle for various other unsavory local characters, as they went about their business in the port.
\nBut the alleys were small-time, and he craved more excitement than they could offer. Still little more than a youth, Graves stole a blunderbuss and smuggled himself aboard a ship headed out of Bilgewater to the Shuriman mainland, where he stole, lied, and gambled his way from place to place along the coast.
\nAcross the table of a high-stakes—and highly illegal—card game in Mudtown, Graves met a man who would change the course of his life, and his career: the trickster now known to many as Twisted Fate.
\nEach immediately saw in the other the same reckless passion for danger and adventure, and together they formed a most lucrative partnership. Between Graves’ raw brawn and Twisted Fate’s ability to talk his way out of (and occasionally back into) almost any situation, they were an unusually effective team from the outset. Their mutual sense of roguish honor grew into genuine trust, and together they stole from the rich, swindled the foolish, handpicked skilled crews for specific jobs, and sold out their rivals whenever they could.
\nThough at times Twisted Fate would blow all their shares and leave them with nothing to show for it, Graves knew that the thrill of some new escapade was always just around the corner…
\nOn the southern borderlands of Valoran, they set two renowned noble houses of Noxus at each other’s throats as cover for the rescue of a kidnapped heir. That they pocketed the reward money, only to ransom the vile young man to the highest bidder, should really have come as no surprise to their original employer. In Piltover, they still hold the distinction of being the only thieves ever to crack the supposedly impenetrable Clockwork Vault. Not only did the pair empty the vault of all its treasures, they also tricked the guards into loading the loot onto their hijacked schooner, for a quick getaway through the Sun Gates.
\nIn almost every case, only once they and their accomplices were safely over the horizon were their crimes even discovered—usually along with one of Twisted Fate’s trademark calling cards left where it would be easily found.
\nBut, eventually, their luck ran out.
\nDuring a heist that rapidly turned from complex to completely botched, Graves was taken by the local enforcers, while Twisted Fate merely turned tail and abandoned him.
\nThrown into the infamous prison known as the Locker, Graves endured years of torture and solitary confinement, during which time he nursed his bitter anger toward his old partner. A lesser man would surely have been broken by all this, but not Malcolm Graves. He was determined to have his revenge.
\nWhen he finally clawed his way to freedom, with the prison warden’s brand new shotgun slung over his shoulder, Graves began his long-overdue pursuit of Twisted Fate.
\nThe search led him back home to Bilgewater, where he found that the wily old cardsharp had acquired a few new bounties on his head—and Graves would be only too happy to claim them. However, just as he got Twisted Fate in his sights, they were forced to put aside their differences in order to escape almost certain death in the ongoing conflict between the reaver king Gangplank and his rival ship captains.
\nOnce again, Graves found himself escaping his hometown… only this time, he had his old friend in tow. While both of them might have liked to pick up their partnership where they left off all those years ago, such resentment couldn't simply be forgotten overnight, and it would be a while before Graves could bring himself to trust Twisted Fate again.
\nStill, he feels Bilgewater calling to him once more. Maybe this time around, the pair of them will find their stride and be able to pull off the ultimate heist…
", "short": "Malcolm Graves is a renowned mercenary, gambler, and thief—a wanted man in every city and empire he has visited. Even though he has an explosive temper, he possesses a sense of criminal honor, often enforced at the business end of his double-barreled shotgun Destiny. In recent years, he has reconciled a troubled partnership with Twisted Fate, and together they have prospered once more in the turmoil of Bilgewater’s criminal underbelly.", "quote": "“We’re here for your gold, not your heads… so don’t nobody decide to be a hero.”", "quote-author": "Graves" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2009-02-21T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Jax", "title": "Grandmaster at Arms", "section-title": "Jax", "slug": "jax", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "unaffiliated", "image": { "title": "jax_splash_new.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/a8d3b960b33b5850f5c3b8e65a0afb54fde80e11-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1320, "y": 350, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "jax_splash_new.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/a8d3b960b33b5850f5c3b8e65a0afb54fde80e11-1920x1080.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1920, "height": 1080, "x": 1320, "y": 350, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/jax", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" }, { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/jax", "biography": { "full": "Saijax Cail-Rynx Icath’un grew up in Icathia, a satrapy of the Shuriman empire. Ever since he was a boy, his father told him of when their home was a proud, independent nation, before it was ground under the heel of Shuriman oppression. He told him of the Kohari, heroes who protected Icathia and its Mage King. The Mage King had resisted Shurima’s conquest, but when he died in battle, his Kohari protectors followed him, committing ritual suicide. The Shuriman emperor displayed the Kohari’s decaying bodies for all to see, and the Mage King himself was impaled above the city gates, his bones left to molder.
\nSaijax’s father had witnessed this cruel act, and over time he passed down to his son the burning resentment that was growing in every Icathian heart. Even so, Saijax committed himself to the study of arms, learning from Shurima’s weapons masters as well as his own clan’s elders.
\nAfter many centuries of Shuriman rule, a massive earthquake struck the coastal province of Saabera. The destruction revealed something hidden deep beneath the earth, something dark and of great power—perhaps strong enough even to overcome Shurima’s god-like Ascended warriors. Saijax was entrusted with protecting the Icathian mages who encountered this discovery… which the guards just barely contained with brazier-staves that blazed with conjured elemental fire. Disturbed, he escorted the mages to the governing council so they could tell of what they’d learned.
\nThey called this power the Void.
\nImmediately the council recognized its potential, but Saijax saw the doom the Void portended. As a master of weaponry, he knew the danger of using a weapon they could neither fully understand nor safely harness. He regretted that he didn’t kill the mages as they rode from Saabera. He would regret it even more in the days to come.
\nConfident that the Void could defeat their Shuriman overlords, the council crowned a new Mage King. The Kohari were rebuilt, with Saijax among the first to join their ranks. They triumphed in early engagements, and Saijax even killed one of the vaunted Ascended in battle, watching with pride as its corpse was paraded around the liberated city of Bai-Zhek.
\nWhen the Ascended Host approached Icathia, Saijax and his brethren assembled on the front lines. As the two armies churned the earth beneath them into crimson loam, Icathia’s mages and priests deemed the time had come to unleash the Void.
\nRuin swept over the land, as Icathians, Shurimans, and even Ascended were unraveled from existence. The city’s walls collapsed as the Void swallowed thousands into cold, silent oblivion.
\nIn moments, Icathia was lost.
\nSaijax rode to the ruined crater where the Void had been summoned, determined to fall upon his sword like the Kohari of old. But before he could take his life, he saw among the devastation a discarded brazier-stave that he recognized from Saabera—it still blazed with elemental fire that harmed the Void. This flame kindled a spark in Saijax’s heart. He took up the stave and left behind the ruins of his homeland, tending to this “last light of Icathia”, and the hope it represented.
\nGrieving and ashamed, Saijax Cail-Rynx Kohari Icath’un forsook his old name, and from that day was known only as Jax.
\nHe became a wanderer, traveling across the known world and to places beyond any map. As he bore the elemental fire, Jax’s life extended beyond even the expectations of his long-lived people. Yet the farther he went from Icathia, the lower the flame burned, until it threatened to gutter out once and for all. Jax understood with grim resolution that he couldn’t run from his past. He had a duty to return, and fight. The advance of the Void had been halted by the last surviving Ascended, but its singular threat endured.
\nFor centuries since, Jax has roamed, a vagabond warrior searching for those strong enough to rebuild the Kohari. Though he has fought countless times against beings of great skill, courage, and power, none have yet convinced him that they can march against the coming darkness. The fall of Icathia has plagued Jax with doubt, but one thing remains certain: when the final battle comes, Jax will stand against the Void.
\nEven if he has to face it alone.
", "short": "Runeterra’s greatest weapons master, Jax is the only survivor of the Kohari—champions sworn to the defense of Icathia. But when the Void was unleashed against the Shuriman empire’s Ascended Host, Icathia was destroyed, leaving Jax without a home or purpose. He gathered the “last light of Icathia”, a symbol of his hope to one day defeat the Void, and now travels the world, searching for warriors strong enough to face the coming darkness by his side.", "quote": "“Strength and will are what make a weapon.”", "quote-author": "Jax" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2009-09-19T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Katarina", "title": "the Sinister Blade", "section-title": "Katarina", "slug": "katarina", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "noxus", "image": { "title": "Katarina_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0b61440f72501d55b2a1b02752b74c28680ee09d-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 822, "y": 356, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Katarina_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0b61440f72501d55b2a1b02752b74c28680ee09d-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 822, "y": 356, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/katarina", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/katarina", "biography": { "full": "Born to one of the most respected noble families of Noxus, Katarina Du Couteau found herself elevated above others from an early age. While her younger sister Cassiopeia took after their politically brilliant mother, Katarina was very much her father’s daughter, and the wily General Du Couteau pushed her to learn the way of the blade; to cut away the empire’s enemies not with reckless brutality, but deadly precision. He was a harsh teacher with many pupils, and notoriously difficult to impress.
So it was that Katarina’s childhood—if it can be called such—had little room for kindness or rest. She spent every waking moment honing herself into the ultimate weapon, testing her endurance, her dexterity, her tolerance for pain. She stole poisons from the city’s least reputable apothecaries, testing their efficacy in tiny increments upon herself, gradually building her resistance even as she catalogued their effects. She scaled the tallest towers in the dead of night, unseen by anyone.
She yearned to do her part for Noxus. She yearned for the opportunity to demonstrate her hidden strengths in service of the empire, and the throne.
Her first mark came straight from her father, camped with his warbands on the eve of one of the military’s innumerable westward invasions… She was to assassinate a line officer of the opposing army, a low-born wretch by the name of Demetrius.
Katarina was livid. She hadn’t trained her entire life to have her talents wasted on some dungheel barely skilled enough to swing a sword! He simply wouldn’t do. Instead of her assigned target, Katarina stole into the enemy camp and slit the enemy commander’s throat as he slept. It was a flawless execution. It would bring a swift victory, and glory to Noxus. It would make her father proud.
At dawn, his face daubed with ashes, the vengeful hero Demetrius led a berzerk charge into her father’s encampment. Dozens of Noxian soldiers were slaughtered, along with the general’s personal retinue. Katarina’s father himself barely escaped with his life.
He was furious beyond words, refusing even to look his daughter in the eye. She had shamed him, and their family name. The greatest assassins do not seek recognition or glory, he reminded her. They do not expect to occupy a place of honor at their master’s right hand.
Overwhelmed, Katarina struck out into the wilderness, alone. She would complete her original mission. Demetrius would pay with his life. Even so, her mind swam. Could she ever forgive herself? How had she been so foolish?
She was so distracted, she didn’t see her attacker until he had nearly taken her eye out.
For Katarina’s failure, General Du Couteau had sent another of his protégés after her; a nameless whelp dragged up from one of the lesser assassins’ guilds. But even with blood streaming down her face, the years of rigorous training kicked in, and her blades were in her hands in an instant.
Six hours later, she tossed Demetrius’s severed head at her father’s feet.
She told the general she had considered taking his head instead, but eventually decided—as much as she hated to admit it—that he had done the right thing in ordering her death. She had failed. Not just as an assassin, or as a daughter, but as a Noxian.
And failure must have its consequences. She ran her fingers along the raw, deep gash over her left eye, and thought of the price others had paid for her arrogance.
She knew she had lost her father’s favor, and could never regain it. He would raise others in her place, simply to spite her. Still, she vowed to redeem herself, no matter the cost—to rededicate her talents to the empire, and to become the sinister weapon she always intended to be.
", "short": "Decisive in judgment and lethal in combat, Katarina is a Noxian assassin of the highest caliber. Eldest daughter to the legendary General Du Couteau, she made her talents known with swift kills against unsuspecting enemies. Her fiery ambition has driven her to pursue heavily-guarded targets, even at the risk of endangering her allies—but no matter the mission, Katarina will not hesitate to execute her duty amid a whirlwind of serrated daggers.", "quote": "''Never question my loyalty. You will never know what I endure for it.''", "quote-author": "Katarina" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-02-14T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Nautilus", "title": "the Titan of the Depths", "section-title": "Nautilus", "slug": "nautilus", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "bilgewater", "image": { "title": "Nautilus_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0381e43e608994c7c4cd30b4bea8b2af00b44401-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1075, "y": 4, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Nautilus_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/0381e43e608994c7c4cd30b4bea8b2af00b44401-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1075, "y": 4, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/nautilus", "video": null, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Tank", "slug": "tank" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/nautilus", "biography": { "full": "To understand the legend of Nautilus, one must first know the man—for even the tallest of tavern tales agree, he was indeed a man.
Though the waves have washed away the name he was born with, most remember Nautilus as no mere sailor, but as a salvage diver. Just beyond the southernmost reach of the Blue Flame Isles lies a graveyard of ships, rumored lost while searching for a blessed land, looking to trade wealth for immortality. On a fair day, their glittering holds beckon from beneath the surface. Many crews sought divers to collect the lost fortune, and none could match the skill of the quick-sinking hulk of solid muscle that was Nautilus.
With lungs that could steal the air from a galleon’s sails, Nautilus preferred to freedive. Always bringing up plenty of gold or jewels for the crew, the man demanded no special wages—he asked only that the captain toss a coin overboard as they set out, honoring and appeasing the vast ocean. A sailor’s superstition to be sure, but many a sea-fearing crew made such offerings to ensure a safe return.
Years of salvage depleted the easy treasure, each haul becoming less and less, until one day Nautilus’s crew learned that their ship and working papers had been bought out from under them.
The dawn was scarlet the morning the new captain came aboard. Hailing from a foreign port, he brought with him a giant suit of brass and iron. He zeroed in on Nautilus; indeed, he had purchased the command because of Nautilus. It was clear the captain was obsessed with a specific wreck, one shrouded in darkness even on a fair day. The diving armor could withstand the pressures of the ocean floor far longer than any man, long enough to collect what was hidden in the abnormal murk.
The crew agreed working was better than starving, and Nautilus found himself being bolted into the suit, the wooden deck groaning under the load. Panic rose in his throat when he realized that they had nothing to pay the tithe. The foreign captain laughed as Nautilus was lowered into the water. He assured the crew that whatever the Bearded Lady was protecting would make them all rich beyond their wildest dreams. When Nautilus returned to the surface, they would make their silly sacrifice.
As Nautilus sank, the light above dimmed, and all grew quiet, the man’s own breath the only sound echoing in the iron suit. Then something reached out from the depths. He was being pulled down, and for the first time Nautilus felt liquid fear wrap itself around his heart. It was not treasure his captain sought, but some slumbering, eldritch power.
Nautilus grabbed the anchor chain, his last connection to the world above, and hauled himself up even as the thing below sought to drag him down. But the weight was too much. Just as his giant metal fingers were about to breach the surface, the chain snapped. Nautilus screamed within the suit, but none could hear him. He tumbled back into the inky maelstrom, clutching the sinking anchor in desperation. Dark tendrils enveloped him, and he could only watch as the dimming outline of his ship faded away. Then everything went black.
When Nautilus awoke on the ocean floor, he was something… different. The darkness could no longer hurt him. The great metal suit had become a seamless shell around him, concealing the bond that the primordial power had made with his spirit. Trapped in the sunless depths, he could remember only one thing—the new captain’s broken promise.
Nautilus vowed, there and then, that all would pay the ocean’s tithe. He would see to it himself.
Driven ever forward by this thought, he trudged toward the shore. But by the time he reached Bilgewater, years had passed, and he could find no traces of his captain or crew. There was no life to which he could return, no revenge he could take. Instead he returned to the sea, allowing his anger to surface on the greedy, gutting their ships with his mighty anchor.
Sometimes, in the tumble of waves, distant memories of who he was push up above the waterline… but always the man who is Nautilus stays drowned just below the surface.
", "short": "A lonely legend as old as the first piers sunk in Bilgewater, the armored goliath known as Nautilus roams the dark waters off the coast of the Blue Flame Isles. Driven by a forgotten betrayal, he strikes without warning, swinging his enormous anchor to save the wretched, and drag the greedy to their doom. It is said he comes for those who forget to pay the “Bilgewater tithe”, pulling them down beneath the waves with him—an iron-clad reminder that none can escape the depths.", "quote": "''When consumed by utter darkness, there is nothing left but forward.''", "quote-author": "Nautilus" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-08-21T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Rengar", "title": "the Pridestalker", "section-title": "Rengar", "slug": "rengar", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ixtal", "image": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Rengar_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/9eca7c212374e6363e336ac7323862c6e5427943-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/rengar", "video": { "title": "rengar-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/1d6b5b19b0a0c99fae110db5a04aa46ff3b29baf.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 900, "y": 141, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [ { "name": "Vastaya", "slug": "vastaya" } ], "roles": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Assassin", "slug": "assassin" }, { "name": "Fighter", "slug": "fighter" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/rengar", "biography": { "full": "Rengar hails from a tribe of Shuriman vastaya known as the Kiilash, whose society venerated the honor and glory of the hunt. Rengar was born the runt of the litter to the tribe's chieftain, Ponjaf. Ponjaf believed Rengar's diminutive size would make him a worthless hunter. He ignored his child, assuming the runt would starve to death.
Eventually, the young Rengar fled the camp, ashamed that he had disappointed his father. He subsisted on grubs and plants for weeks until, one day, he was nearly killed by a legendary human hunter named Markon. Upon seeing Rengar's state, he took pity on the creature and let it live. Besides, this was no mighty vastayan warrior worthy of Markon's blade.
Rengar spent months following Markon, feeding off the corpses the hunter left behind. He still hoped to one day rejoin his tribe, and so took great care in observing how Markon took down his quarries.
After some time, Markon grew sick of the pathetic Kiilash following him around. He put a knife to Rengar's throat and informed him that the only way to be a hunter was to hunt. He tossed Rengar the blade and kicked him down a ravine, where he was forced to make his first kill to survive.
From then on, Rengar spent years pushing himself almost to breaking point. He scoured Shurima for the most powerful and dangerous prey. Though he would never be as big as other Kiilash, Rengar was determined to be twice as ferocious. Over time, instead of coming back to his camp each time with fresh scars, he began to come back with trophies. He polished a sandhawk's skull to a sheen; he braided the teeth of a shrieker into his hair.
Then, when he decided the time had come, Rengar returned to his tribe, ready to be accepted as a true hunter.
Ponjaf scoffed at Rengar and his trophies. He decreed that only by bringing back the head of the elusive and legendary Void-abomination known as Kha'Zix would Rengar be welcomed back into the tribe.
Blinded by his eagerness, Rengar allowed this cunning beast to get the drop on him. The Void creature ripped out one of Rengar's eyes and escaped. Furious and defeated, Rengar admitted his failure to Ponjaf. As expected, his father chastised him.
But as Ponjaf spoke, Rengar noticed all the trophies adorning his father's hut were dusty and old. The chieftain had not hunted anything in a long time—he had likely sent Rengar after Kha'Zix because he was too afraid to do it himself.
Rengar interrupted his father and called him a coward. Many Kiilash were blessed with strong bodies or comfortable homes. Rengar, conversely, was born facing death. He had taught himself how to hunt, and had the trophies and scars to prove it. Even his own bloody eye socket was a trophy: proof that though Rengar was born with disadvantages, he never gave up.
Rengar leapt onto his father and gutted him from neck to belly. The fiercest hunters of the tribe crowned him with flame-roses, marking him as their new chieftain.
But Rengar didn't need his village's acceptance. All he needed was adrenaline pumping through his veins as he chased down his prey. He left the village, without even pausing to take a trophy from what was left of Ponjaf—his father was not a kill worthy of remembering. Instead, he set off determined to find and slay the Void creature that had tried to blind him.
Not to satisfy the Kiilash, but to satisfy himself.
", "short": "Rengar is a ferocious vastayan trophy hunter who lives for the thrill of tracking down and killing dangerous creatures. He scours the world for the most fearsome beasts he can find, especially seeking any trace of Kha’Zix, the void creature who scratched out his eye. Rengar stalks his prey neither for food nor glory, but for the sheer beauty of the pursuit.", "quote": "“Prey on the weak and you may survive. Prey on the strong and you will truly live.”", "quote-author": "Rengar" }, "headerImage": null }, { "type": "champion", "release-date": "2012-07-24T00:00:00.000Z", "name": "Zyra", "title": "Rise of the Thorns", "section-title": "Zyra", "slug": "zyra", "associated-faction": "", "associated-faction-slug": "ixtal", "image": { "title": "Zyra_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/35938ca5eed918f72a683ee4ce8fce265cdf2a53-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1070, "y": 38, "featured-champions": [] }, "background": { "title": "Zyra_0.jpg", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/images/dsfx7636/universe/35938ca5eed918f72a683ee4ce8fce265cdf2a53-1215x717.jpg?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "image/jpeg", "width": 1215, "height": 717, "x": 1070, "y": 38, "featured-champions": [] }, "url": "/en_us/champion/zyra", "video": { "title": "zyra-splashvideo.webm", "subtitle": "", "description": "", "uri": "https://cmsassets.rgpub.io/sanity/files/dsfx7636/universe/374f35f73d16ac029e6f67b3c399f8094d92109b.webm?accountingTag=LoL", "encoding": "video/webm", "width": 1280, "height": 720, "x": 1070, "y": 38, "featured-champions": [] }, "races": [], "roles": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "role": [ { "name": "Mage", "slug": "mage" }, { "name": "Support", "slug": "support" } ], "game-info-url": "http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/zyra", "biography": { "full": "Zyra’s memory is long, and runs as deep as the roots of the earth. Her kind was young when the Rune Wars raged, when mortal armies fought one another for the very keys of creation.
Hidden in the jungles south of Kumungu, somewhere between the great rivers that divide eastern Shurima, lay the fabled Gardens of Zyr. Elemental magics had turned the soil there in strange and unpredictable ways, giving rise to fierce, carnivorous plants that preyed upon any creature that strayed within reach. They infested and they devoured, caring nothing for the squabbles of mortals, content merely to coil their vines through the forests and swamplands. In their own way, they were all Zyra… and nourishment was plentiful, even in the midst of war.
A small company of soldiers, their allegiance long since lost to time, advanced through those lands in search of some now-forgotten prize. They were led by an ambitious sorceress—but they were far from home, bound to succumb to the noxious fumes and spores of that accursed place.
The denizens of the Gardens set upon them, spined tendrils lashing through armor and flesh with sadistic ease. Though they fought valiantly, the warriors knew they could not hold out long, and turned to their sorceress to save them. Gathering her powers, she wrought a mighty blast. The air burned with runic symbols, casting their eerie light even as the thorny overgrowth closed in.
In that very instant, a rogue spark ignited the gases of the swamp, and the resulting magical explosion obliterated every living thing for miles around. Of the scattered survivors of the Rune Wars, none would ever know what fate had befallen the Gardens of Zyr.
Centuries passed. The land where the battle had been fought lay empty and lifeless above ground… but in the depths, something stirred. Long had the energies that were unleashed there settled, and curdled, nourished by the fallout. A seedpod bulged, pulsing with unnatural life, until a creature clawed its way free, gasping and confused.
It beheld a broken and changed world, brimming with new vitality and new ideas. Its mind was a puzzle of conflicting memories, drawn from the loamy earth and forced into its fledgling consciousness. It could recall the warmth of the sun, the taste of rain, words of power, and the agony of a hundred mortal deaths.
It—she—called herself Zyra, without quite understanding why.
As she ventured out into the wildlands beyond her birthplace, Zyra knew she was different from other creatures she encountered. Mortals were fearful and unpleasant things, while more ethereal entities tended to be capricious, or arrogant. None of them seemed to respect the realms they inhabited, despoiling everything with their mere presence, and that filled Zyra with rage and contempt. Almost unbidden, new life sprang up in her footsteps—voracious plant forms that changed and evolved beneath her gaze, hurling poisonous barbs or sprouting fresh tendrils at an alarming rate.
Unrooted and free to wander, Zyra and her deadly progeny feed, and grow, strangling all other life from the world. She has blighted farmland, overrun entire settlements, and crushed those warriors brave or foolish enough to confront her, always leaving a menagerie of botanical horrors in her wake.
As the rivers of Shurima begin to run anew, strange flora has been sighted on their banks, spreading slowly westward with each passing season. Whether pulled from the earth or purged by fire, the growth does not seem to be slowing…
", "short": "Born in an ancient, sorcerous catastrophe, Zyra is the wrath of nature given form—an alluring hybrid of plant and human, kindling new life with every step. She views the many mortals of Valoran as little more than prey for her seeded progeny, and thinks nothing of slaying them with flurries of deadly spines. Though her true purpose has not been revealed, Zyra wanders the world, indulging her most primal urges to colonize, and strangle all other life from it.", "quote": "“Where are your friends? Mine are all around…”", "quote-author": "Zyra" }, "headerImage": null } ] } ] }