
Search results for Singed
Few have ever guessed her true nature, yet fanciful rumors abound—wild tales of her ageless beauty, and a terrifying, voracious creature said to lair in the bowels of her dilapidated, dust-wreathed palace. Vladimir
The two feasted together as equals, weaving magic so dark that the wine at their table soured, and the roses withered, vibrant red turning to black.
Thus began the pact between Vladimir and LeBlanc, rife with disputes, and games of politics and war.
Amumu
A second tale whispers of another crown prince, one given to bouts of petulance, cruelty, and murderous vanity. In this telling, Amumu was crowned Emperor of Shurima at a young age, and convinced he was blessed by the sun, he forced his subjects to worship him as a god.
The Princeling’s Lament
A princess lies below the soil,
A king’s pride and joy, a beauty divine.
Now food for worms, her flesh to dine.
Skin once fair, now left to spoil.Xayah
As a child of the Lhotlan tribe, Xayah loved listening to her father sing folk-hymns about ancient vastayan heroes. The haunting melodies transported her to a long-forgotten time, when magic danced freely through the island of Qaelin, imbuing the Lhotlan with immense power.
Zilean
Zilean’s own resentment grew, yet he was worried by open talk of secession among his peers. He was a patriot through and through, but in the face of the Ascended Host, any rebellion could only end in calamity for his people.
For Demacia
Graham McNeill
The Silverwings were silent, the chatter of animals stilled. Lux heard the soft susurration of grave cloth being pulled tight. Redeemed
Phillip Vargas
“I was a girl once, playing with dolls, singing as I made believe.” She fixed her gaze on Senna. “Life should be preserved.” Ruination Prologue
Anthony Reynolds
He had no desire to swap inane small talk with them, and he felt no jealousy at their juvenile comradery. The Black Powder Plot
David Slagle
Or your vaunted warhost?”
“We scorch the earth then,” Maela petitioned before Leto could respond, the words flying wildly from her mouth.
The Shadow Door
Ian St Martin
Celwyn smiled. He half chided himself for telling his son the tales, a collection of old Valoran fables replete with courageous heroes triumphing over evil sorcerers and monstrous beasts.
Stone Cold
David Slagle
But I can only remember parts of the song when I’m not trying, and sometimes… it’s like my mom is out there, singing.
Like that! Did you hear that?!
“It’s coming from that village,” I bellow, pointing towards a patch of darkness beneath a frozen waterfall.
A Different Hunger
Ian St Martin
The mood among my comrades was light, the easy talk of bonded brothers and neighbors. Though our duty was to watch the frontier in search of any sign of it, war in Tokogol was a distant thought. Silence for the Damned
Odin Austin Shafer
One half of its face had been stripped of flesh, revealing oily bone, teeth, and horns. From its mouth, an unnatural, black blood dripped. What Once Sailed Free
Michael Luo
Olber raises a hand to halt the idle chatter. “Why'd you say your name was Zen Jaw?” he asks.
Xin Zhao sighs.
The Spirit of Copperwood Glade
Jared Rosen
Tales of those misadventures exist even to this day―perhaps the last surviving stories of a more innocent time, captured and passed down so those who come after us will remember the magic that has been lost to witchery and shadow.
But let us not speak of sad things! Here is but one telling of those touched by the old forest, and the strange creatures living within it.
Confessions of a Broken Blade: Part 2
Ariel Lawrence
She struggled to be heard over the chatter of the hall. She struggled against her restraints. “Please, you must listen.” A Feast Fit for A King
Graham McNeill
Trundle prodded the troll with Boneshiver, and said, “You was telling me about Yettu.”
“Oh, right, so I was,” continued Sligu.
Everything We Should Have Said
Michael Luo
K’Sante has many words he wishes to say about Xerath, but telling the Magus’ followers would be a waste. They’ll soon join their companions, unable to pass on any messages, and he’d rather speak to Xerath himself to let the Magus know it was he who slayed the Baccai abomination.
The Voices of the Dead
David Slagle
“Only through stealing our breath can the wind speak.”
In the roaring clamor of the Black Mist, I hear the words of the dead.