…Reinforcements failed to come, and the original vanguard, the leaders of the attack, were left alone to fight the several hundred Noxians alone. It was an impossible fight, yet it went on and on. Garen was the last man standing, looking at his dead comrades, brothers that had been with him through hell (literally, led the attack on the lord of the dead, Karthus.) and back. Twenty Noxians charged at the remaining soldier, swords racing to score the killing blow on the man. Garen shouted a battle cry “DEMACIA!” and engaged them, outnumbered 1 to 20. Garen decapitated the first man in one strike, and then charged into the center of the group. Garen unleashed a dance of death, spinning his sword around him, decimating all 19 men. Limbs were thrown away from their body, heads were lopped off, and screams were cut short as Garen made quick work of his country’s enemies. Garen looked up, vision blurry and knew he was near death. He had taken a spear into his abdomen, the point sticking out of his back, several arrows stuck out of his armor like quills and he had several daggers and other cuts and bruises all over his body. Despite this, Garen refused to die. He had a family to return to, a mother, a sister, and several non-blood brothers that had not died on this field. Several hundred Noxians were in the distance, cheering as they saw Garen swaying, trying to keep his balance intact. Garen looked down at the remains of the glove on his hand, and ripped it off. The glove fell on the ground, covering a head that had been ripped away from its neck. Garen pushed the spear through his body, screaming as the long length of its wood went through his gut. He could hear the Noxians cheer in the background, but continued to recover. Garen looked into his combat bag and pulled out three red potions. He took one and poured the contents into his mouth. It was tasteless. Slowly, Garen’s wounds were sewn up, the cuts turning into scars, daggers falling off his body as the wounds were being sewn together. Garen shotgunned another pot, healing the rest of his wounds quickly enough for him to fight again. Gazing up at the sky, he muttered a prayer that he would make it out of this fight alive. Garen looked ahead and screamed once more, identifying himself.
“I AM GAREN CROWNGUARD, LEADER OF THE DAUNTLESS VANGUARD! I FIGHT FOR THE RIGHTOUSNESS AND JUSTICE OF DEMACIA! I SHALL STRIKE DOWN ALL ENEMIES OF DEMACIA!”
With that, Garen charged, picking up a dead comrade’s shield as he went along. The Noxian Vanguard met with Garen on the fields, surrounding him instantly. Garen deflected a sword strike with his shield and parried a dagger with his sword. Garen spun and heard several thuds as his sword ripped apart their throats. The bulk of the Noxian army arrived, and saw their dead allies under a large Demacian soldier. Instinctively, and filled with thirst to avenge their own fallen brothers, they charged. Garen, alone and injured, met them in an impossible battle for survival and honor. Garen slammed his shield into the first man, stunning him, and then Garen shoved his fist into his face, knocking him out. Before he could admire his handiwork, a woman wielding two daggers appeared behind him, spinning rapidly, flinging 10 daggers at him. He felt each a few fly into his back, and turned to throw his shield at her. It hit her in the face and knocked her back. Garen charged her with a powerful slash, but she dodged and stabbed him in his side. Garen and the woman danced for several minutes, Garen constantly killing other men as they interrupted the fight. Garen scored a hit across her face, giving her a large gash that would give her a scar for the rest of her life. She reeled and Garen lunged once more, stabbing his sword into the ground. He yelled “FOR DEMACIA!” and a massive, magical sword fell violently on her, however she recovered quickly and barely dodged the massive golden blade, only losing one of her dropped daggers to the behemoth-sized blade. She fled the fight, knowing she couldn’t win. She ran away, throwing her remaining dagger at Garen. Garen saw this movement and picked up his sword, the massive blade mimicking his movement, picking itself off of the ground. He raised his sword to block, and the massive sword slammed into tens of Noxian knights, slamming them back. Garen whooped, but felt his energy drain with every strike. This was powerful magic and it made him weaker with every slash, stab and slice. Despite this, Garen swallowed his last potion, restoring himself to become only slightly injured. He wielded the monster blade with his own, knowing that it was like he was swinging it. He was too far the strike the Noxians, but not the magical sword. He swung his own sword toward the Noxian forces, and the giant sword followed his actions, severing a large fraction of their forces from their bodies. Garen smiled and noticed the woman in the back. Garen spun around, his own blade hitting nothing, but the massive golden sword decimating the crowd of men as Garen moved toward them. Garen couldn’t carry the sword any longer, and attacked once more at the heart of the Noxian army before dispelling it. There were less than 100 soldiers remaining and they all charged Garen, moving as one. Garen suddenly doubled over, clutching his stomach. He looked up and saw a large axe ricochet off of him, leaving a large mark where it hit, causing powerful bleeding. A man wielding two throwing axes was standing behind the forces, throwing his axes toward Garen. Garen blocked one, causing it to fall to the ground, useless. Seeing this as an opportunity, Garen initiated his fight on the remaining Noxian army. Using his now-signature spin-to-win fighting technique, he spun into the crowd, sending limbs flying from their bodies, heads losing their bodies and screams being cut short. There was only one man left, and he started running away. Garen picked up the throwing axe the other man threw and flung it toward the running man. It ricocheted off the man, but killing him anyway. The axe-throwing man caught it and flung it at Garen, striking him in the chest. Garen fell back, not wanting to taste another axe to the chest. It had sundered his armor, making it easier to pierce. Garen studied the other man and noticed something. Right before he threw an axe, there seemed to be a moment of weakness, like an old injury. Garen charged, hoping it wasn’t his imagination. The axe-man, now known as Draven threw another axe. Garen barely dodged it and hit him just behind the knee, where Draven’s kids often kicked him, once causing him to fall down a flight of stairs. This old injury caused his downfall now. Garen disarmed Draven, hitting the axe out of his hand, sending it flying into the ground. Garen stared down at the hopeless Noxian and showed no mercy. He stabbed his sword down, decapitating Draven, ending it quickly.
Garen heard a loud scream, and recognized it immediately. Darius. The hand of Noxus had arrived, alone as it seems. Garen shuddered, and knelt at Draven’s body. He looted his pockets and found one blue and red potion. Garen threw away the blue potion, because he didn’t use mana, a source of magical energy for most mages and fighters. He drank the red one, healing his wounds and closing cuts. Garen hefted his sword. It felt heavier than usual and remembered how many potions he drank. He drank too many and it drained his strength. Garen decided to disregard the fight and ran back. However, he was slow, and Darius, brimming with fury, pulled Garen to him with the side of his massive battleaxe. Garen screamed “DIE, DARIUS!” and tried to kill him with one hit. Darius blocked it with his axe and swung the axe around him. Garen was too close to be hit by the blade and was instead hit by the handle of the blade, bruising his ribs again. Garen spun around in an attempt to spin-to-win this fight, but Darius knew better. He knocked Garen off his feet with a simple tackle and punched him in the face. Garen’s vision was filled with tears of both pain and sadness that he would not make it out of this fight alive. Just as Darius was about to perform his signature execution move, Noxian Guillotine, a fanfare screamed in the distance, and the two fighting men looked back toward Demacia. Reinforcements had arrived. Darius tried to finish Garen before they came, but a large crossbow bolt sent Darius reeling backward. Vayne, the Night Hunter appeared, wielding a crossbow aimed at Darius’s head. Garen took one look at Vayne and noticed a slight blink behind her. Garen tried to warn her, but was too weak to react. Talon, the Blade’s Shadow appeared behind Vayne and shoved his armblade into her neck, leaving her no chance to suffer. Garen was nearly unconscious, but refused to go down. Garen stood, picking up his sword. Talon turned suddenly and did an aerobic spin in the air, disappearing. 6 blades formed a ring around Garen and he knew what happened. Talon had used his signature move, Shadow Assault. A split second before Talon caused the blades to converge on Garen; Garen spun his sword around once, deflecting all the blades at once. Talon frowned visibly and threw three daggers at Garen, striking twice, adding to Garen’s already fatal wounds. Garen yelled and decided on one more chance. Garen leaped into the air, slamming his sword into Talon’s weak armor, breaking his shoulder guard and breaking bones in Talon’s left shoulder. Talon screamed and Garen summoned the giant magic blade once more. It slammed into Talon’s body, killing him instantly. Garen barely had enough energy to move, but dropped his sword and crawled toward the sprinting Demacian army. Lux, his luminous sister, bended light around Garen, protecting him from any other outside harm. Garen took one look at her and instantly knew he would survive. He tried to stand, but Jarvan IV stopped him before he could. Garen fell unconscious into his arms. Lux stared at her once proud and unstoppable brother, and felt sadness sunder her heart as she saw how fragile and weak the Might of Demacia looked. Jarvan looked at Lux and asked
“Where are the Noxians?”
Lux smiled at her brother’s handiwork and silently prayed Garen would be okay. Garen awoke and shot up in Jarvan’s arms, looking around for his sword. Garen screamed loudly as he dislocated his arm trying to stand. Garen collapsed on the ground, gazing at the cloudless sky as Valor, a Demacian scouting bird explored the seemingly beautiful sky. But to Garen, even the boundless skyline was stained with blood.
For those who are wondering who everyone looks like...
*All images are not owned by me whatsoever. All pictures created and owned by Riot Games.
Quinn & Valor (Valor is the bird.)
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