1. The Warrior

War. It was a term young Garen had grown up hearing. Born to Marcus and Lilia Crownguard, the head of the Crownguard family, Garen always had high expectations for himself. Swordmanship was his passion. He was always destined to hold the SteelGuard, one of Crownguard's most precious heirlooms. He was drawn towards it for some mysterious reason. But Steelguard couldn't be earned or mastered by just anyone. "It chooses it's wielder.", his mom used to say. He had heard tales of people who have tried to forcefully own it , meeting terrible ends.

Steelguard was an ancient sword, whose blade was made from the finest alloy of steel, the recipe of which has been long lost. It's hilt made of a rare gold alloy which was virtually indestructible. SteelGuard had a legacy attached to itself. Every Crownguard warrior who had held the sword had been immensely victorious in even the most one-sided of battles. But the sword now remained dormant on it's pedestal, as not just any Crownguard could carry the sword. Not even Garen's father was deemed worthy of holding it. The sword had a Bright blue gem on its hilt, the origins of which are still unknown. Though he had kept it a secret, Garen had noticed that the gem pulsed blue light everytime he was anywhere near the sword.

Demacia was a human city-state in the magical land of Valeron. It has strived under the leadership of the LightShields, King Jarvan III being the current ruler. Demacia was always prosperous, it's citizens contented. Crime was at a bare minimum as the military had a strong hold over the state. It only had one and only one enemy, Noxus. Demacian military were one of the few forces that could fend off a Noxian attack. Both were city-states, both contrasted each other, and both had conflicts since the time they were founded. Crownguard was one of the pivotal families of Demacia and had very close relations with the Lightshields.

Unlike other teenagers his age, Garen always had a warrior's instinct. He would squint upon hearing stories of the lost battles against Noxus. He would always practice swordmanship with his close friend Jarvan IV, the prince of Demacia.They practically grew up together and were inseparable. They were a team, and as King Jarvan always said, "A Force to Reckon with!".This afternoon was no different, Garen and Jarvan were sparring against each other using swords made of wood and wearing spare armour. "Take that! And That and-- ouch!" Garen yelled. "Jarvan! We agreed not to use cheap tricks!" Jarvan laughed as Garen tried to get sand out of his eyes. "You were the one who set my clothes on fire the last time!" protested Jarvan. That was when they heard the long, loud siren being blown at the sentry towers. They immediately knew what it meant. Demacia was under attack.

2. The Scout

It was a lazy afternoon in Bandle City. Most of the shops had closed for the afternoon break. The only ones open were the Workshops, where work never seized and the Saloons which were always open to the weary travelers. Wondering about the empty streets was a tiny figure whom almost everyone recognised. 'Mischievous to the core and bearing a smile that could melt the most rock-solid of hearts' was how the townspeople usually described him. Teemo was bored. He was trying to find something to pass time until the Bandle City Scouts returned in the evening. Teemo always had a close connection to the Mothership Scouts, named after the huge unfinished rocket of unknown origins which sits atop the city center. Actually he had a good bond with almost every other yordle who lived in city. His warm nature was the key to this.

The yordles are a race of short statured, highly intelligent people.They were originally nomads, but centuries ago they had settled in the Ruddynip valley, the place where Bandle City is currently located. They had great knowledge of machinery and were highly industrious. The Yordles looked like really short humans , though some of them had fur. Bandle City was where the yordles flourished. It was an independent city with a community based government, the current mayor being Dennison Jadefellow. Teemo never knew his parents. He was the 'Son of the City'. The city brought him up. The people took care of him. But there was a side to him that even the people didn't understand. Even though he hadn't realized it yet, the townspeople knew that Teemo underwent a transformation when it came to battle excercises and games. Some even called it deadly. Teemo became excessively focused, autonomous and most of all, aggressive. Teemo's closest friend and mentor, Captain Cresto of the motherships scouts always kept a close eye on Teemo for this same reason.

Teemo had discovered that he had impeccable aim when it came to blowguns. He even boasted that he could never miss a target and was for this same reason that he was infamous among the Scouts. The Scouts, also called The Scouts of the Mothership, were the city's intelligence unit. Though their operations were some of Bandle city's most guarded secrets, the Scouts were really friendly with the general population. They were Heroes. Legends. Just like the Meggling commandos, who are one of the oldest military units of Bandle City. Teemo was too young to be a scout, but he always tried sneaking into a mission whenever he got the chance.

Today the scouts were taking longer than usual. "They'll be back Teemo don't you worry. I mean, It's Scouts we're talking about!" said Albus, the bartender/owner of the coziest little Saloon in town, The Drunken Mile. "Oh I don't know Albus. Captain Cresto is very particular when it comes to the mission reporting time. They should've been here by now." said a worried Teemo. Just then, He heard shouts outside and gave Albus a concerned look. Albus shrugged and they ran outside to check out the cause of this commotion. It was the Mothership Scouts, or, what was left of them. Of the 50 that had gone for the mission, hardly 10 remained. They were badly wounded and worst of them all was Cresto. He was covered in blood, and one of his arms was missing. Teemo stood there, too stunned to speak. He knew what the mission was. He knew who did this to them. Teemo's features changed as Cresto watched helplessly. The day that Cresto dreaded had finally come and before anyone could stop it, Teemo disappeared into thin air.

3. Where Angels Tread

Garen wasn't even out of breath considering that he had sprinted over half a mile in a few heartbeats. Jarvan wasn't far behind either. The King had summoned the council and were already in serious discussion. Jarvan and Garen wanted to be part of it but were denied entry to the hall. They were given strict instructions and were assured that everything's under control. So they rushed to the Lightshield clock tower, one of the city's tallest structures, to get a view of exactly what's happening. It was a full fledged battle, the opposing troops were in great numbers, there was no doubt that they were the Noxian cavalry. Demacian troops were holding back the attack but were at a great disadvantage as the elite troops had earlier been dispatched further north to protect the borders. Noxus was very well known for it's strategic planning and ruthlessness. But this wasn't a regular border struggle, this time it seemed they were aiming right for the city. This was possibly the largest Noxian formation to have entered the Demacian Borders. The battle was pretty even, until he arrived.

Garen had only heard stories of an undead, unbeatable Noxian Giant who was capable of turning the tides of any battle. Jarvan and Garen were spellbound as they watched a monstrosity of a man, push back lines of soldiers as if they were a bunch of scarecrows. Sion, who had not been seen for ages had finally returned. He was more than 8 feet tall, had skin the color of a mild bruise, and weilded an double-edged battleaxe which was as big as wild boar. Excluding the huge shoulder plate, he wore no armour, because, he didn't need any. He had died ages ago, slain by Jarvan I, the first king of Demacia, but was resurrected using the dark forces of necromancy. Sion slashed down more soldiers than could be replaced and slowly, the opposition started pushing forward. Jarvan was given strict orders at the castle to stay put, no matter what happened. He watched, as his Father, the King of Demacia, strode out in full armour and his majestic lance along with the king's royal guards, the finest warriors of Demacia. "He's going to slay that monster. Just you wait!" Garen said trying to cheer Jarvan, who was now tense ,worry lines appearing on his forehead. "I'm scared." was all Jarvan could muster.

The King's arrival was refreshing and motivating . The soldiers fended off the enemy with renewed vigour and were almost halted. History repeated as Sion faced King Jarvan III on the battlefield. Lance clashed against axe as the battle reached it's most intense stage. Even with Sion's immense strength and size advantage, they were equals as the King made it up with skill and speed. The giant was quick for his size, he blocked, parried and even dodged the King's onsluaght. He swung his battleaxe around with enough force to shake foundations, which, the king took special notice to avoid. Sion wasn't paying very attention to his defense, which gave the King several openings. After several intense moments, Sion's real advantage started to show. He was undead, which meant he had unlimited stamina. The King however had already started showing signs of fatigue, he was being pushed back. Then it happened, with one mighty blow, Sion shattered the King's lance and had him pinned down! Jarvan shrieked and all seemed lost as Sion raised his murderous axe over the King.

What happened next is etched into Demacian history and has sinced been passed down through the generations. Garen and Jarvan will never forget that day when the skies opened, and a bright light filled the horizon. All they heard was a thunderous crash and by the time everyone got back to their senses, Sion lay on the ground, at least what was left of him and admist the choas stood a majestic creature. They say that at the heart of every legend, there's a grain of truth, but, here stood what looked like an Angel, in armour made from particles of Light itself, and with wings spread out in a most spectacular of displays. The King, who was still on the ground, was too dazed to react, when the angel knelt beside him and whispered something in his ear. There was a brief flash, and it was gone as fast as it had appeared! The Noxian army retreated with everything they had. Most were either slain or captured, but they still managed to run away with Sion's corpse. Who was that creature that saved the King's life? Where did it from? All these questions remained to be answered, but for now,the Noxian attack had been thwarted. Victory belonged to Demacia!