The Journal of Justice/Volume 1, Issue 18
- 1 Kalamanda in Chaos
- 2 Honoring Our Fallen Champion
- 3 Trolling with a Monk
- 4 The Mailbag of Justice
Release Date: 25 March, 21 CLE
Volume 1, Issue 18
Kalamanda in Chaos
Swain arrives with a Demacian prisoner
The situation in Kalamanda sits on the brink of catastrophe as Demacian and Noxian forces maintain an uneasy standoff in the wake of Kalamanda’s alliance with Demacia.
Kalamanda’s modest population spent the day preparing for the arrival of Jarvan III, King of Demacia, who is accompanied by son and an entire phalanx of Demacian Valor Knights. The king sent word late last night that he would visit the village personally to sign the long-anticipated agreement granting Demacia exclusive mining rights in Kalamanda. In exchange, Kalamanda would receive trade privileges, a portion of the mined resources, and protection from one of Valoran’s most esteemed militaries.
The triumphant atmosphere became subdued, however, when Jericho Swain, Master Tactician and newly-appointed General of Noxus, appeared with his own military entourage. Tensions peaked as Noxian forces marched boldly past the city hall, where the Demacians were meeting with city officials just hours before the signing. Under strict orders from their commanders, both factions avoided an engagement, though tempers flared and an incursion seemed imminent. The Noxian force took residence in the former Noxian mining camp that Noxus was asked to strike when Kalamanda awarded rights to Demacia.
With Jarvan III’s assurance, Kalamanda officials decided to proceed with the signing – but before he could endorse the document, Swain emerged from the crowd with a bound Demacian soldier in tow. The soldier seemed weak and defeated despite showing no obvious signs of injury. Jarvan IV, the Crown Prince, interrupted the proceedings, shouting: “What do you think you’re doing, Noxian?”
Swain replied: “This man has confessed to the murder of the Noxian citizen in the mines, and the attempted framing of Noxus.” The Demacian soldier did not face the Royal Party until commanded by King Jarvan himself. A brief inquiry revealed that the soldier’s name was Thom Garvin, and when the King asked whose orders he was following, he sputtered: “I obeyed the commands of your son, the Prince.”
At that point, the ceremony dissolved into chaos. Mayor Anson Ridley requested that the signing be postponed until a proper investigation could be conducted. King Jarvan III demanded that Garvin be released into Demacian custody, but Swain argued that Garvin was a key witness and could not be entrusted to either government. He suggested instead that Garvin be held by local authorities, and only interrogated with representatives of both city-states present. Ridley agreed to the proposition and Jarvan III followed suit.
Before the prisoner departed, Jarvan IV rattled off a list of accusations at Swain, denying any involvement in a conspiracy. Troops on both sides were called to the sides of their leaders, but King Jarvan III managed to de-escalate the situation by silencing his son and forbidding his troops to engage. He stated to Swain that he would leave peaceably, and requested that Swain honor the dictates established by the League, forbidding open combat. Swain consented, and withdrew his forces.
For the time being, both parties have refrained from violence, but the residents of Kalamanda are on edge. Some have even chosen to abandon the village. League Adjudicators were dispatched from the Institute to help mediate the situation, but right now everyone is left wondering: what will happen next?
Honoring Our Fallen Champion
Celebration in Piltover honors the passing of Urf the Manatee
Despite the tension and strife gripping Valoran in recent times, people from across the continent gathered yesterday in Piltover peacefully to honor Urf. The brave manatee was remembered with a day of festivities that included cooking contests, races in the Guardian’s Sea, werewolf-shaped piñatas, and much more.
Next week marks the one year anniversary of the death of the most celebrated marine mammal in Runeterra’s history. On April 1st, 20 CLE, the excitement leading up to Urf’s entrance into the League met a somber end in a horrifying turn of events. Urf the Manatee was slain in an unfortunate accident on Summoner’s Rift during his very first match as a League champion. He was never to be seen again, despite spooked summoners’ claims of Urf appearing during the time of the Harrowing.
Kicking off the day’s celebrations in Piltover was League Champion Jax. “I hardly knew him,” he declared at the opening ceremonies with a tinge of sadness. “But I have nothing but admiration. He was the only warrior in all of Valoran other than myself who limited his extreme power according to League sanctions. Forever lost is the opportunity to learn the legendary fish and spatula technique thanks to a cruel and senseless murder.”
Although long-standing rivalries were temporarily put aside to honor the fallen manatee, it seems that the day was not immune to heated opinions. Piltovian citizens were unable to hold in their disgust with the appearance of Professor Stanwick Pididly. The prevailing scholar of Zaun scoffed at the celebration, loudly proclaiming to anyone within earshot that it was not too late to restore Urf back to life. He expressed an inability to understand the reason behind all the wasted emotion and fanfare, when the date of Urf’s passing was still recent enough for the Rite of Reclamation to be effective. Necromancy is heavily frowned upon in the City of Progress, and as such Professor Pididly was calmly escorted away from the festivities despite his protests that time was running out to revive Urf.
League Champion Warwick, the suspected perpetrator of Urf’s demise, was notably absent from the celebration.
Trolling with a Monk
The hustle and bustle of editorial journalism taxes a spirit even as sunny and exuberant as my own. I find that if the sum of my working days reaches or exceeds the number spent moping, carousing, or brainstorming illnesses to excuse me from future toil, I become “more crabby than Conqueror Beach in turtle season,” as my new secretary, Olivia, phrased it. I advised that she seek to sharpen her dress (she has an unfortunate penchant for cardigans) before or perhaps alongside her metaphorical wit, but she merely regarded me with those condemning emerald eyes and offered to facilitate my relocation to a more permanent roost beneath the beach’s purportedly crustacean-y sands.
Within moments of me requesting that she apply a coat of sunscreen as a proper sendoff, Olivia produced an itinerary for a week-long retreat, promising something about a melted Freljord and frozen Shurima before she would append lathering to her job description. Nearly four weeks since my last hiatus, this retreat was scheduled with hopes of moderating my “bristly” persona. A mind as fertile and vibrant as mine requires quite the reboot after a bout of honest labor, so she booked me passage to the enlightened southern shores of Ionia. Olivia expressed a desire that I seek audience with (and counsel from) the most patient man on Runeterra, the now-blind monk of the Shojin Monastery.
My holiday was quite refreshing if you block out (as my flasks of gin did) the portions in transit, cramped amongst snot-flinging infants and their elephantine mothers. I arrived at the Shojin monastery in good spirits, with good spirits, to find the celebrated monk whiling away his sightless hours aboard a raft, fishing in the Monastery’s bountiful and serene Lake Contemplation. He drifted aimlessly across the surface, floating in whichever direction the current carried him, pole swaying in gentle rhythm, catching cold faster than fish by the looks of it. Eventually he bobbed to shore and I clambered on. It was there that he shared some insights of trolling, and imparted some wisdom gained through diligent reflection.
“Many fishermen try to lure the fish. I seek to coax the water.” He mused suddenly, after nearly two hours of silence and me waving my hands in front of his face, trying to provoke a reaction. With confounding ease, he dipped one hand into the water and casually extracted a wiggling trout. “With perfect technique, I may catch every fish, but with harmonious water, every catch will be a trophy.” He tossed the writhing trout back to the waves, apparently turning a blind eye to my growing appetite. Didn’t see that coming.
You will endure my puns whether you appreciate them or not.
“Our world rewards the busy man. The man who graduates first is smartest. The man who conquers furthest is strongest. The man who owns most is richest. But as man fills his life with these things, he loses touch with his only true possession: his self. There is no difference to spending a life gazing at the sky, foregoing the earth around you than to spend a life accumulating wealth, power, or status, foregoing the world inside you. The outside alone will never fill the inside.”
I am certain at this point that he was openly mocking my hunger.
“Valoran is a place where one man’s misstep can ripple outward, causing many to stumble.” To illustrate his point, he dropped a small pebble in the water. “But the secret, the true magic of this place, is that we are all connected, and together we can stand again.” At this he stood, and drew his pole up out of the water. I immediately regretted that I couldn’t somehow affect a sound or smell faithful to my sourly flat-faced expression as a monstrous trout emerged from the depths at the end of his line.
He smiled for the first time since my arrival.
“Alright, put away your moody face, it’s time to eat.”
The Mailbag of Justice
Reader mail from all across Valoran – answered!
The recent turn of events in Kalamanda is distressing, to say the least. If Swain is telling the truth, then Demacia, the great city-state which prides itself on ethics and honor has stooped quite low in the name of profit. If Swain is lying, then Noxus is taking a bold and dangerous stand against Demacia in a time of peace. In either event, I hope a resolution can be found without resorting to violence and therein undoing what the League has worked so hard to accomplish.
“What is the story of Doran and his trinkets that the League so frequently uses? Who was Doran? When did he live? Why did he create these items? I've always been curious as to the origins of these items I use so frequently in my matches.”–Summoner Afrasabi of Noxus
The story of Doran tugs at the heartstrings. They say Effrem E. Doran was born with a hammer in his hands and a forge in his heart. Every object he touched, he found ways to improve, and he knew that he was destined to be a brilliant artificer. At the age of 15, he was invited to the League with an offer to assume the role of Master Artificer, a dream come true and an unprecedented honor for one so young. However, fate had other plans. En route, his carriage broke an axle. When he leaned down to inspect it, he was kicked in the head by his yonkey, a stern blow. He stumbled back onto the wagon, but when he arrived at the Institute of War he was a different boy. The kick had rendered his mind soft, but it hadn’t robbed him of his passion. He still wanted nothing other than to craft, but where once he may have created singular masterpieces, he now crafted…somewhat simpler items, and many of them. He is a kind, goofy, good-hearted soul, and he takes pride in the work he does. His items are daily selected by champions on the Fields of Justice, and he has a permanent home at the Institute.
“I've developed one question for Blitzcrank. Were it to happen again, what would your reaction be to the creation of more autonomous golems like yourself? You could serve as the gateway of creation for more and more creatures not too dissimilar from yourself. Would it be a magnificent thought? Or would it be something a bit more confounding?” – Corroded Zeplin
His compatibility services in full swing, Blitzcrank seemed particularly energized when I approached him with your question.
“THE PROCESS WHICH LED TO MY AUTOMATION IS NOT CONFOUNDING, IT CURRENTLY LACKS NECESSARY DATA. PROBABILITY INDICATES THAT THIS DATA WILL BE RECALCULATED AND THE PROCESS WILL EVENTUALLY BE REPRODUCED. MY ATTENTION IS MORE FOCUSED ON THE QUESTION OF WHETHER I CAN SPLIT MY SPARK TO FORM NEW INTELLIGENCES, OR ‘BLITZLINGS’.”
“My query is to the selectors of the worlds. Where can I summon my champions from? Just wondering if there might be a way to affect the decisions made about future worlds that become available to draw upon and the type of people we can ‘use’?” – Cloudstrife1987
The recent arrival of Renekton has opened the door for many questions like this, but I would like to remind everyone that the League has strictly prohibited summoning from other worlds. When the art of summoning was young, those mages powerful enough to practice it summoned beings from distant places without their consent, often to serve against their will. Since that time we have grown, and most forms of magic as potent as summoning are illegal outside of the controlled environment of the League of Legends. This is essential to preserving Runeterra. Beyond that, summoning creatures or people from other planets or against their will is expressly forbidden, except in some very special circumstances approved by the League.