DFGaren Lore

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DFGaren Lore

Post by vonGroopah on Wed Dec 03, 2014 2:57 am

Ouroboro_dono wrote:make more of these

This thread will be dedicated to the preservation of all historical accounts of the mighty warrior-mage Garen. Updates whenever tomes recounting his greatness are unearthed.

Garen, the Wizard of Might
Spoiler:
The melee fighter stood amid the burnt out ruin of her top lane. Everything and everyone that mattered to her was gone, and she was filled with fathomless grief... and hate. Hate was now all that compelled her.

She saw again the smile on his face as he killed her. He was meant to be a mid laner, but he’d spat upon his vows. Hers was not the only family shattered by this I am the lolicon meta.

The desire to go after him was strong. She wanted nothing more than to plant her rapier in his chest and watch the life drain from his eyes... but she knew she would never be able to get close enough to him. He was at least 425 range away, and she was but one warrior. She would never be able to fight her way through his snare. Such a death would serve no purpose.

She took a shuddering breath, knowing there was no coming back.

A crude effigy of a man, formed of sticks and twine, lay upon a fire-blackened dresser. Its body was wrapped in a scrap of cloth torn from the cloak of the betrayer. She'd pried it from her jungler's dead grasp. Alongside it was a hammer and three rusted nails.

She gathered everything up and moved to the inhibitor turret. The two outer turrets were gone, smashed to splinters in the attack. Beyond, lit by a 15.6" FHD LED screen, lay the empty, darkened fields.

Reaching up, the top laner pressed the stick-effigy to the hardwood lintel.

"I invoke ze, Wizard of Might," she said, her voice low, trembling with the depth of her fury. "From beyond your astral plane, hear my plea. Come forth. Let justice be done."

She readied her hammer and the first of the nails.

"I name ze betrayer once," she said, and spoke his name aloud. As she did so, she placed the tip of the first nail to the chest of the stick-figure. With a single strike, she hammered it in deep, pinning it to the hardwood door frame.

The top laner shivered. The room had become markedly colder. Or had she imagined it?

"I name him twice," she said, and she did so, hammering the second nail alongside the first.

Her gaze dropped, and she jolted in shock. A dark figure stood out in the 15.6" FHD LED screen-lit lane, 3000 range in the distance. Was Nocturne trying to ult her? Breathing quicker, the top laner returned her attention to the unfinished task.

"I name him thrice," she said, speaking again the name of the murderer of her turrets and jungler, before hammering home the final nail.

An noble man of justice stood before her, filling the space in front of her, and the top laner staggered back, gasping involuntarily.

The otherworldly being was clad in archaic armor, his flesh a healthy colour and glowing with the Character Quality on very high. Light coiled around him like a living shield.

With a squeal of a melee fighter in top lane, the spectral figure drew forth the glowing staff protruding from his gigantic pauldron — the ancient weapon he bought for 3100g.

He threw it to the ground before the top laner, but quickly picked it back up again and offered it to her. "Sorry, that was rude of me and this is quite fragile." The top laner knew what was being offered to her — justice — and knew its terrible cost: her soul.

The spirit watched on, his face impassive and his eyes a nice blue colour, as the top laner picked up the treacherous weapon.

"I pledge myself to justice," said the top laner, her voice quivering. She activated the staff, aiming the tip inward, towards her heart. "I pledge it with my blood. I pledge it with my soul."

She paused. Her jungler would have pleaded for her to turn away from this path. He would have begged her to stop feeding or else he'd report her. A moment of doubt gnawed at her. The large swordsman watched on.

The top laner's eyes narrowed as she thought of her jungler lying dead, fried by large orbs of crackling magic. She thought again of her minions, sprawled upon the ground, and her resolve hardened like a cold stone in her heart. Her grip tightened upon the staff.

"Help me," she implored, her decision made. "Please, help me kill him."

The swordsman then called down a colossal beam of light, piercing both the sky and her soul.

The top laner's eyes widened and she dropped to her knees. She tried to speak, but only blood bubbled from her lips.

The man watched her die, his expression one of a child who never gets tired watching clothes go round and round in the washing machine.

As the last of the lifeblood ran from her body, the shade of the top laner climbed to her feet. She looked down at her insubstantial hands in wonder, and her insubstantial rapier in less wonder, then at her own corpse lying dead-eyed in a growing pool of blood upon the floor. The shade’s expression hardened, and a ghostly staff appeared in her hand.

An ethereal tether, little more than a wisp of light, linked the newly formed shade to the man she had summoned. Through their bond, the top laner saw him differently, glimpsing the noble warrior he had been: tall and proud, his armor gleaming. His posture was confident, yet without arrogance; a born leader, a born soldier. This was a commander that the top laner would have willingly bled for.

Behind the spirit's anger, she sensed his empathy — recognition of their shared pain of betrayal.

"Your cause is our cause," said Garen, the Wizard of Might. His voice was grave cold. "We walk the path of justice as one, now."

The top laner nodded.

With that, the swordsman and the shade of the top laner stepped into the darkness and were gone.

"Did Fiora afk? Where is she???"
― Skarner, preparing for Baron

Garen, the Master of Itemization
Spoiler:
Garen is the first melee fighter in 3 seasons to unlock the ancient, forbidden ways. He defied his basilica and cardinal, casting off the tradition and discipline that had shackled him all his life. Garen now offers power to those who embrace knowledge of justice, and slays those who cling to convention.

An orphan, Garen was taken in and trained by a cardinal. Only one other acolyte appeared to be Garen's equal - the cardinal's daughter, Lux. It seemed Garen could never win the favor of the cardinal, as every match between the rivals ended in a draw. Frustrated and jealous, he sought an advantage. The young fighter ventured into the vestry of the basilica, where he found an ambry tucked into the back wall, barely distinguishable from the surrounding iconostasis. Sensing the justice within, Garen knew he should not open it, but he peered inside nonetheless. What laid inside was a glowing black staff, tipped with a clawed hand. Reaching out to grasp it, virtuosity illuminated his mind, revealing techniques that had long been hidden. Now armed with 120 ability power, he challenged Lux, and this time he defeated the cardinal's daughter. He expected praise and recognition in his moment of victory, but somehow the cardinal knew Garen had used forbidden ways, and excommunitcated him.

Humiliated, the young melee fighter wandered for years. His bitterness turned to ambition, and he began to train others in the style of unintended itemization. As his power grew, so did his circle of followers, but he knew that without the staff, his technique would never be perfect. One day, Garen looked at his followers and saw that his students were now an army. His most notable disciples were an Asian spearman with a weapon that seemed to revitalize his soul, a demented prophet who knew some radical magic tricks, and a bloodthirsty barbarian with a propensity for axial movement. He led them back to the basilica to claim his prize. Before he could pass through the narthex, he was surprised to find the old cardinal waiting, receiving Garen and his disciples as if they were welcome guests. The old disciple laid his sceptre at Garen's feet, declaring that he had failed Garen as his master. By excommunicating his former acolyte, the cardinal had doomed Garen to a relentless pursuit of justice, instead of leading him to the balanced path. The old man implored Garen to enter the basilica, destroy the ambry and its contents, and lead his followers to balance. The melee fighter followed the cardinal inside. Moments later, the assembled disciples heard Garen cry out in pain. Mysteriously, he emerged unscathed, and threw the severed head of the cardinal at his daughter's feet. Bellowing with rage, Garen commanded his followers to slaughter the cardinal's remaining acolytes and to wrench the ambry and its contents from the vestry.

That day, the holy order of the basilica fell. Though many acolytes died, some escaped thanks to a well-timed Prismatic Barrier. Now the basilica is a training ground for the Order of the Just and Mighty. Garen rules as the Order's self-appointed Archmage, and his edict is simple: perfect one's technique, and kill all who refuse to embrace the secret powers of weapons hidden deep within the basilica.

''Look, Katarina, all I'm saying is that it'd be a shame if your AD ratios went to waste.''

-- Garen

Garen, the Radiant Mage
Spoiler:
Along the western coast of Valoran, the warriors of Demacia live and breathe only for war. However, the city-state's peak is reserved for a special group of Demacians who answer to a "higher" calling. Members of this group, called ranged mages, retire their melee weapons, choosing instead to devote their lives to rushing chalice and insisting on second blue buff. According to legend, ranged mages were formed by a spellcaster who had a shiny ring that granted him invincibility as well as amplified his magical abilities. He claimed Demacia's summit, the point on Valoran closest to the largest magical nexus, for his arcane devotion, a tradition which generations of ranged mages have preserved to this day. Though they maintain their subservience, no other melee fighter possessed the gifts of the founder – until Garen.
Garen’s parents were traditional Demacians, both bred for the heat of battle. To them, Garen was a problem child. He was capable of fighting as fiercely as any other – including his childhood friend, Fiora – but he did not share their zeal for melee combat. He believed that the true worth of a soldier lay in their ability power. When it came time for his All Star 1v1, a ceremony in which two Demacian teens battle to the death for the right to bear a relic-weapon in the Magma Chamber, Garen refused to fight against the dim-witted Galio. For this, the Demacian leaders ordered his execution, but when they tried to strike the fatal blow, the might of Demacia burst forth in an attempt to execute those who sought his life, dealing magic damage plus additional damage based on his targets' missing health, bathing Demacia in a holy nova of justice. As it faded, Garen stood unharmed and his executioners lay unconscious around him. The ranged mages immediately claimed Garen, demanding that his sentence be repealed. He donned a very warm cape and they bestowed upon him a scepter that could blast a gout of flame from its tip, passed down from the ancient mage of legend. The ranged mages helped Garen focus on hitting level six as fast as possible, and when he was ready he left to join the League of Legends.

“I'm still new to this magic stuff. How do a book and a book combine to make a gun?”
― Garen

Garen, the Shadow of Top Lane
Spoiler:
Since his first sighting on the northwestern shores of Valoran, the towering, armored goliath known as Garen struck a silencing fear into the hearts of all who laid eyes upon him. No one had ever seen anything like his titanic, otherworldly form before, and the mystery of his sudden arrival was deeply unnerving. When Garen began to march to second top tower, leaving a trail of desolate, lifeless ground behind him, the top laners the plains fled their homes for the safety of nearby Demacia. In the city's now-overcrowded taverns, rumors about this inhuman phantom spread in hushed whispers. Some claimed that he was the vengeful shade of an ancient warrior, intent on destroying all living beings; one man insisted that they had seen him leading an entire legion of spectral cavalrymen; others still believed him to be the creation of some unintended itemization choices. One top laner, seeking to dispel the terror that had gripped the city, assembled a few of his finest soldiers and rode out to turn back or destroy Garen.

The top laner led his soldiers to stand in Garen's path and braced for his assault. As the colossus bore down on them, an overwhelming sensation of dread gripped the warriors. The men, frozen in fear, could only cower in silence as the ghostly titan spun through them, tearing them apart and trampling them beneath his iron greaves. Garen turned to the crippled, cowering commander and uttered a chilling statement: ''Thank your deity that I am still holding on to this Needlessly Large Rod and my Fiendish Codex.'' With that, Garen departed, resuming his grim march. Driven to insanity by his nightmarish experience, the top laner stumbled back to Demacia, where his dire warnings were dismissed as the ravings of a bronze elo player. While Garen's origin and intent were still a mystery, his destination became clear when he reached the Institute of War and, in a voice both ominous and commanding, demanded entry into the League of Legends.

''You don't understand...The Disciplinary Flail of God will consume us all...''
-- Former Top Laner

Garen, the Prodigal Explorer
Spoiler:
Garen was born with the gift of strong fists. Garen, however, was also born with a much stronger ultimate ability. Sent to the castle of a Demacian nobleman, Garen was brought up as a page. By the time the boy genius was eight years old, he had dueled and bested every Demacian soldier. His prowess in battle was so great that the Demacian monarchy salaried his services as the leader for their Shuriman crusade. This sealed the deal on Garen's path in life – he would eschew the arcane arts in favor of melee combat. Since then, Garen's countless adventures have been scrutinized ‎– what kind of idiot punches people to death if they're wielding a sword?

One of Garen's latest adventures, however, has brought him face-to-face with his true legacy ‎– his latent magical power. While exploring the pyramids of Shurima Desert, Garen uncovered a staff of incredible power. Aside from how spooky it looked (fashioned from a skull and two radial bones, fire flickered from its eye sockets), it allows the wielder to immolate others by channeling the air's passive heat into a fiery blast - provided unwary victims are in the vicinity. This allowed Garen to tap into his natural talent for magic without having to put any serious effort into it - a big win for the Prodigal Mage. The drawback is that for some unknown reason, the staff is attuned with summoning magic. Without warning, Garen may find himself acting as a champion for, as he puts it, "a summoner I am the lolicon-bent on bringing justice to the League of Legends, one salty top laner at a time." Still, Garen feels being summoned into a Field of Justice on occasion is a small price to pay.

"When I'm done with you, you'll belong in a museum... of taxidermy!"
― Garen

Garen, the Retributor
Spoiler:
The pride of Demacia is not something to simply be adored: it is something to behold. Stringent guidelines for the life of its citizens as well as a persistent campaign to extend the city-state's moral convictions throughout Valoran has resulted in a land where any compromise of the nation's integrity is an offense of the highest order. To this end, all Demacians are seemingly born with the incumbency to uphold the tenets championed by their homeland – a pursuit carried out foremost by the military. To serve in the army is life's greatest honour. Only in death is more honour found. Those who have fallen in battle are commemorated with their names inscribed on an obelisk of white marble in the city square, and are promised vengeance by their allies. The inscription of his sister's name on that very obelisk has only given Garen's mission to avenge her more urgency, as if with each passing moment the opportunity to requite her murderer slowly fades away.

Killed by a giant recently animated by the magical forces dormant within the Shadow Isles, Lux's death evoked an outcry from not only Demacians, but her fellow champions in the League of Legends. The consequent imprisonment and trial of the forest's sentinel revealed a controversial verdict: acquittal by reason of insanity, but mandatory participation in the League of Legends. At best, the jury was confused and displeased by the leniency displayed the High Council of Equity. At worst, Garen and his fellow Demacian champions swore vows of death upon Maokai. This however, was no easy task. Having battled against the treant on the rift, Garen soon realized its strength. Its bark was tougher than forged platemail, sloughing off blows from ranged and melee attacks alike. Enemy magics only served to replenish the tree's life energy. To kill the monster required a weapon to exploit an imperceptible weakness. To corner the monster required a window of opportunity away from the Institute of War. To avenge his sister's death required more than Garen's force of will.

As the circumstances of time change, so too do the motives of those travelling along its endless passage. Garen sees himself to be an enlightened beneficiary of this change. To what could an allegiance to the Demacian way of life amount? This he asked himself while mourning for his dear sister. The Demacian government had no power to intervene now that the League mediated all political conflict. The monarchy and its accompanying traditions rendered obsolete, what little that could still be accomplished without the League's intervention was only possible away from the organization's prying eyes. And thus, in the dead of night, as one soldier went missing from his post, several legendary artifacts went missing from theirs. Among what Garen could take without being noticed was what he was looking for. Long, dark, and glowing with an unholy fire, he knew this was the weapon that could end Maokai's life. Garen had saw it in action before. A simple flick of the wrist set enemies ablaze. The sensations of amplified pain could only be extinguished with death. With a sword in hand and a warped sense of Demacian justice still in his heart, Garen will never forget what was taken from him, and will never forgive those who allowed the deed to go unpunished.


Last edited by vonGroopah on Wed Dec 10, 2014 9:08 pm; edited 6 times in total
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Re: DFGaren Lore

Post by Ouroboro_dono on Wed Dec 03, 2014 10:10 pm

10/10

Holy I am the lolicon

-IGN
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Re: DFGaren Lore

Post by Ouroboro_dono on Wed Dec 03, 2014 10:22 pm

You should post this on GD.
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Re: DFGaren Lore

Post by vonGroopah on Thu Dec 04, 2014 12:15 am

Ouroboro_dono wrote:You should post this on GD.
I've posted both of these separately to the GD on LoL's Boards. Kalista's got a bit of positive reaction, and I must have posted the Zed one too late at night. I'm thinking I'll do one giant post on GD once I've got around 20 or so of these (hopefully with some true OC).
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Re: DFGaren Lore

Post by Ouroboro_dono on Fri Dec 05, 2014 8:11 pm

vonGroopah wrote:
Ouroboro_dono wrote:You should post this on GD.
I've posted both of these separately to the GD on LoL's Boards. Kalista's got a bit of positive reaction, and I must have posted the Zed one too late at night. I'm thinking I'll do one giant post on GD once I've got around 20 or so of these (hopefully with some true OC).

Godspeed.
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Re: DFGaren Lore

Post by Ouroboro_dono on Tue Dec 09, 2014 11:21 pm

10/1-
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Re: DFGaren Lore

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