Southern Freljord

There was no break in the weather today. Apparently these patchy rains and overcast skies are common towards the end of the Freljordian spring, passing over as summer takes hold, and we have been unfortunate enough to catch the last of them. Aelfric says that we will likely see their end before Rakkelstake and I am glad to hear it. Not only would I rather travel beneath clear skies, but it would do the whole expedition good if Heilwig had one less thing to complain about before we part company with him. I fear he has done as much to dampen our spirits as the rain.

It’s been something of a relief to distance myself from Mathias’ group and they’ve been good enough to respect my intentions so far. I may officially be part of the Institute’s delegation, but I know very little of what they hope to achieve here or how their summoners will judge the site. In much the same way, I feel as though they’re not quite sure how they should act around me. We may work together on the Fields but, without that connection, we belong in different worlds altogether and it shows.

I’ve been finding better company with Aelfric and his men. This isn’t the first time he’s been contracted to lead an expedition from the Institute into the north, and his professionalism and confidence is plain to see. Most of his men are born warriors or hunters, who have spent their whole lives on this tundra, and have been good enough to answer any of my questions. They aren’t phased by my status as a champion of the League and just seem glad that someone else in the party can match their pace. Standing watch with them in the early hours of the morning, listening to their local songs and stories, I’ve felt a sort of quiet acceptance I haven’t known for some time.

Sometimes I feel them close to me and have to ask myself whether it’s their voices I’m hearing, not the Freljordians. Then I sleep, and in my dreams I hear them clearly; I hear those voices that have been silent for the last decade. Sometimes we’re all there, laughing around the fire, and others a single voice stands alone, every bit as clear as when they were all still flesh and blood. I woke with a start last night and expected to see Ardus stoking the embers, that familiar grin breaking across his lips. 

He wasn’t there.

I feel as though it’s only right that I repay their kindness with a story or two of my own but nothing that’s come to mind feels right. Things still feel sore now that should’ve healed long ago, and what little else remains is all of war, blood and death. Even the old stories from my youth sit a little uneasy upon my mind, but my best hope lies with them. Perhaps I may yet find something suitable.

Yesterday brought us into the shadow of the cliff face which marks the edge of the great natural bowl that circles their territory, and it offered us a measure of cover from today’s downpour. Most people speak of this land as though it’s nothing but an endless expanse of snow, but that certainly isn’t true of the south. Our journey has taken us through dense forests of pine and elm, marked with spurs of rock, as we’ve traveled further towards the heartlands of the Avarosan. Clear rivers, green hills; were it not for the rain it would’ve been perfect.

Men like councillor Heilwig may curse the mud and the cold, and want nothing more than to return to ‘civilisation’, but there’s something about this place that fascinates me. The Freljord has always been this strange and distant place, set far apart from the rest of the world, and now that I see it with my own eyes, I only find myself wanting to know more. I never doubted that I would feel some anxiety about arriving in Rakkelstake, but now I think I feel as much again simply out of desire to learn what lies beyond the edge of the bowl. If Aelfric’s stories are anything to go by, I shouldn’t have to worry about being disappointed.

We should be in the city within the week and then, after a few days rest and negotiations, we will leave Heilwig to his business with the Avarosan and make for the Frostguard’s territory in the east. Our guides are reluctant to talk about Lissandra’s people, saying it would be better that we hear from the Queen herself, and that worries me. These tribes are supposed to be sworn allies; have they drifted apart in the years since?

I’m not sure what I should expect.

Summer is swiftly approaching. With each passing day I feel the air grow a little warmer and my spirits brighten in accord. Even when I’ve been unable to leave the grounds of the Institute, as has been the case for the last few days, I still find myself reliving fond moments from summers past and draw comfort from those times when my burdens seemed so light and distant. It’s been good to spend my evenings on the terraces, enjoying the last of the sun after my time on the Fields. I’ve even slept a little better as of late.

Summoner Mathias and I spoke again today about the plans for his expedition into the Freljord. Negotiations are apparently progressing well, and he believes that it may only be a matter of weeks before his delegation will leave to view the proposed site for a new Field of Justice in the far north. Despite my doubts, he remains certain that the Institute will allow me to accompany them on their journey. Certain concessions will have to be made, to lessen the effect of my absence from the Fields, but he believes that the council would be willing to offer me that courtesy in exchange for my detailed opinions of the site. It’s heartening to know that someone of his standing thinks that I have earned that trust and, as distant as it still seems, I can’t help but feel a little excited by the prospect.

More than a year has passed since Queen Ashe first invited me to visit her at court and, as distant a possibility as it once seemed, I may finally be able to accept her offer. I have to admit that my discussions with Mathias have made me reconsider why she gave me this opportunity at all. I want to believe that she sees me as a friend, and perhaps even thinks that I might learn from her example, but part of me still fears that her concern is not with me but Noxus. Her union of two years ago may have brought an end to the Barbarian Pacification Campaign, but the resentment my people held for her allies will not soon fade. As distant as my dreams may seem, I can understand if she simply wishes to know how I would picture Noxian relations with the Avarosan or thinks that I may offer her a clearer view of how my people would respond to a Freljord consumed by war.

Even with that weighing on my mind, it still feels as though there’s a new sense of certainty about my life, almost as though I’m finally starting to realise the direction that I should be travelling. I’ve wanted to visit the Freljord for many years now, even before Ashe took the throne and earned the Institute’s protection, and I now have a chance to realise that goal. Whatever her motivations may be, Ashe has managed to change the image of a nation and made progress to move it away from needless infighting and conflict. I have no expectations, but I’d like to think that our time together will give me a chance to learn from her example and perhaps reveal new paths and opportunities ahead. At the very least I may repay the Institute’s kindness and earn a little more goodwill with the council.

The next few weeks should give me time enough to prepare for the journey and familiarise myself with the trials we’ll likely face on the way north. My equipment will not be adequate to deal with the cold and the snow and I’ll need to find suitable alternatives. Perhaps the Freljordian delegation will be willing to offer me some guidance – I’ll investigate tomorrow. It would be better to resolve these things as soon as possible.

I have perhaps a half-hour of light left this evening and I mean to spend it on memories of happier times, rather than the burdens of tomorrow. Time like this is precious and I mean to enjoy it while I still can. The Freljord will not be this welcoming.

As is all too common for me, I’ve followed up what was essentially my announcement of a hiatus of sorts by getting my act together and making real progress on the thing that was causing me problems. Thanks to this, I’m actually going to start posting up my little vanity project here.

I really haven’t been posting a great deal for some time now and, with the arrival of the Freljord patch, I thought that I had an interesting opportunity to give an in-character explanation for where my Riven had been for the last few weeks. As such: This little expository post is going to be followed by the first part of my “Journey into the Freljord”. Please feel free to give me your thoughts on what I’m doing, even if it’s just to say that I should drop this charade and get back to actually answering asks.

There’s never really been a place for love in my life. The service called on me to abandon it as a sign of weakness, a needless distraction from duty, and I assented. Life had shown me little real love and those around me in my youth had scarcely been friends, let alone anything more than that. The closest thing I know to love was the same dedication they asked of me – giving myself over to ideals and following them with all my heart. I loved The Noxian Way, as I understood it, and didn’t think of giving up all other affection as any sort of sacrifice. I had no need for love on the battlefield.

For all the kindness I’ve been shown since I left that behind, nothing has threatened to take Noxus’ place in my heart. I freely gave my life to my city, its ideals and the people around me who I came to … love, I suppose. My squad – those who were with me from the start – were the closest thing to family I’ve ever known and I honestly can’t imagine how it must feel to be closer to someone else than we were. Any one of us would’ve gladly given their life to save another, and I’m not sure what could be a more frank admission of love than that. I don’t know how anyone could ever take the place they held in my heart.

Would I betray what I love for the sake of my ideals? Some would say that I already have. There are those who say I turned my back on Noxus after Coeur, that I turned my back on my duty, and … I can’t really deny that. I pledged them my undying loyalty and turned on them when things no longer suited me. I betrayed their trust.

I’ve always lived and fought by what I believe is right and, no matter what it means for me, that’s the only way I ever want to live. The things I dream of are greater than I’ll ever be and mean more than my life or any relationship I could hope for. If I truly believed that betraying someone I loved was the right way to bring change to Noxus – and only then -  I know that I could do it. If it’ll bring that closer, I’ll bear whatever hardships and face whatever choices I have to.

I still love Noxus, I’ve never stopped … and I don’t think I ever will.

I really recommend this amazing Renekton art blog.

Their stuff is just great.

asktalon:

Riven worked hard to gain that title. I looked up to her because of that, and often took and kept the posters that had her on them. I suppose you could say that Riven was a small portion of the tiny bit of ‘hope’ that I felt back then when I lived on the streets. 

Hope that one day I’d be recognized for my talents, just like she was. 

I was raised on stories and legends of Noxus’ great heroes and victories and saw in them everything I wanted from my life. Even as a child, my dreams were always of soldiering, service and the great things I would do for my city. Those aspirations kept me going through all the hardships I had to face because I knew that, as difficult as things might seem, those who’d come before me had always found a way to persevere and that I could do the same. They were the first people I looked to for guidance and I counted them among the few people I truly respected. The only thing I hoped for my life was that I might live up to their example.

That attitude quickly made an impression on my superiors. Though I was young and lacked the proper discipline and training, they understood how keen I was to succeed and quickly learned how far I was willing to push myself. They spent a lot of time during my earlier months in the service considering what I was capable of and whether I deserved to be moved forward ahead of my peers. Exercises became more about testing my limits than simply meeting targets, as they became more and more confident in my ability. That was when I knew for sure that they thought I was worthy of further trials.

In time, I trained with older and more experienced recruits; I was introduced to weapons and techniques beyond my years and they took to measuring me against their higher standards. It was a sort of favouritism, I suppose, even though it meant that I faced raised expectations in all I did. They wanted me to succeed, but they also made sure I felt the weight of that burden and knew how much failure would cost me. Noxus had given me more opportunities than I could’ve ever asked for and the only way I could repay them was to meet every challenge put before me. Strength was the only currency I had.

Eventually even Command took notice and put me on the path to the officer corps. They didn’t just see me as another soldier; they thought that I was the perfect example of the success that the Noxian Way promised was open to all citizens. Rather than just being concerned with my training and education, my superiors started requesting that I participate in ceremonial events meant to display new prospects to the city’s inner circles or asked that I make myself a visible presence at public displays. They wanted to be sure that people would recognise me and to make my achievements and successes common knowledge. It wasn’t what I signed up for, and I was far more comfortable on the battlefield than I was under that sort of scrutiny, but I managed it as best I could. Even if things weren’t exactly as I’d imagined them, it felt good to know that I had achieved enough to be put on a pedestal like that – that I was doing the right thing.

For a time I was someone who most Noxians could’ve recognised and would’ve considered worthy of respect. Command didn’t just commission my blade for me as a reward for my success, they did it because they wanted to secure my place as an icon – a hero in the making. They thought that I would be the face of the city for years to come and that my achievements would inspire another generation to follow in my footsteps.

How things have changed.

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Noxus has always made use of mercenaries in one way or another. It wasn’t uncommon for foreign advisors to be brought in to supervise operations or planning when they were more familiar with the terrain or how the enemy fought. Even if we always prepared to fight our own battles, most of our better commanders were willing to accept that they didn’t always know everything and that it didn’t matter where someone came from if they could prove themselves useful. I remember training under more than a few of them – exchanges like that with Zaun were common enough. Our cities were happy enough to work together when they both had something to gain.

Ionia was different. Command didn’t just turn to the Zaunites for support or advice, they used them to make up for all the losses that the ‘Endless War’ had brought upon our military. They didn’t care about rebuilding our strength; all that mattered to the Generals on the High Command was that they could count Ionia a quick victory before the Institute made its presence felt and they were happy to rely on Zaun’s manpower and machinery for that. For all their effort to justify the war, they sent us knowing that Noxian strength alone wouldn’t be enough. Only Zaun could provide the sheer scale of indiscriminate slaughter Command deemed necessary.

Our allies acted with the authority of the High Command and were often considered more strategically important than our own people. Everything they did – every time they destroyed a village of no real importance or fired upon our troops – they were doing exactly what our own leaders had authorised them to do. Ionia was our war and our mistake, they just had the weapons that made it possible.

Coeur forced me to open my eyes to all the cruelty I’d tolerated … all the death and violence that was only possible because I refused to question what was asked of me. Our Generals sent us to fight with no faith in our people’s strength or concern for their lives, then did all they could to paint massacres and slaughtered innocents as something glorious. There was no place for me in a city that was more concerned with death and selfish ambition than the human cost of our actions and how far we had let ourselves fall.

As hard as it is to believe, it was exactly one year ago today that if first opened this blog as “askcrimsonriven” – an AU blog asking where we might find Riven if she’d dragged herself back to the frontline after the massacre at Coeur. Needless to say, that didn’t last and neither did the roleplay-centric aspect of this blog either.

I’m not going to say much because, to be honest, I think I’d probably focus the sheer missed opportunities and my own short fallings, rather than places where this has all worked out for the best. I’ve fallen into a horrible cycle of procrastination and indecision and it’s really awful to look back at my archive and see my posting rate drop off a cliff. I could be doing far, far better with this blog and hopefully I’ll manage to pull that off in the next year.

I really can’t thank everyone enough for supporting me from the day I got here (And even before I actually announced I was here in one case). There are so many wonderful people and more than a few I’ve gone on to count as great friends too. I don’t know where I’d be without you.

ask-singed:

Oh my!

How did you know?

I stopped caring about Valentine’s day long before I joined the military. Most of the other children I grew up around had little interest in me as a person, let alone as someone worth loving, and I had no real interest in going out of my way to earn their affection. I didn’t really feel the need for company or love because I had my dreams of heroism and my life ahead to keep me going. Even through the worst of it, the loneliness or beatings, I still hung on to the knowledge that one day all of that would come to an end and I would be free to forge my own path through the service. The insults and affections of childhood would mean nothing once I became a soldier.

I was wrong. 

Love had no place on the training grounds or the battlefield but I didn’t escape it by enlisting. Female soldiers were far from uncommon in the military, state service being required of all citizens, but we were typically kept away from our male counterparts outside of parade and drill. As my skills and commitment may have brought me to the attention of my superiors, I found myself more regularly introduced into exercises and training sessions that were typically dominated by male recruits. I may have been able to pass for a boy at the time, and faced the same treatment, but my gender didn’t escape their attention. Wrestling and unarmed combat must’ve been the only time that some of them came that close to a woman.

I had my admirers, especially after the state took notice of me, but I never returned their feelings - that just wasn’t something I was looking for. While I did my best to avoid and ignore that sort of attention altogether, I handled things bluntly where I had to. I was a Noxian and a soldier before I was a woman and, whether they wanted to or not, I would have them respect that. Despite that, practising single combat, armed or otherwise, with someone you’d rejected was always an unpleasant prospect. ‘Accidents’ were all too common for comfort in the military.

I’m not looking for love - I never have been. Valentine’s day will always be just another day for me.

And yet … I still can’t believe he did that … I can’t …

Sometimes people ask me whether I think I’ll ever find it in myself to forgive Singed for all he’s done to me, to so many people, and just … I can’t understand why. The man has no desire for forgiveness, gives no thought to the human cost of his actions and has never shown any interest in putting his talents to use in a way that doesn’t lead to more death and misery. He doesn’t want to change; he doesn’t see any reason why he should. Even if I wanted to forgive him, he always seems to find new depths of cruelty I had never anticipated.

I can’t escape him or the things he’s done. How could I ever forgive him, much less … I can’t even say it.