Europe. The land of western pride. The land of rookie superstars. The land….of Fnatic.
The orange and black had long ruled over the realm, maintaining dominance apart from the infamous Two Year Reign. Their home was a nigh impenetrable fortress atop a salt mine, adorned with seven banners decorating the walls, records of the victories won by the Kings of Europe. The crown jewel of this grand structure was the massive throne room, a long imposing room, with a row of thrones on either side on ground level. Banners draped from the walls, smaller versions of the massive standards outside. At the head of the room was a gigantic stain glass window of the Fnatic crest, with a throne of trophies at the base.
Despite the grandeur and opulence in the room, the mood was somber and silent. Several warriors sat in the thrones to the side, and a man in an orange and black cloak sat upon the Gilded Throne. His Grace Sam Mathews, the Lord of the Second Region and the First Champs. His face was concerned, for he feared the messages that were due to arrive to today. Word of Sir Rekkles the Handsome returning had reached the castle. Word that he returned alone was what worried Sam.
The colossal doors to the grand hall swung open and in walked a dashing Swedish knight clad in gleaming armor, with various ranged weapons on his back. Sir Rekkles. His sheer handsomeness took aback all who saw him, but they were careful not to show it. They knew of his….other title. Everyone knew he had been seen standing alone, motionless for hours after a devastating defeat, and removing himself from service for a considerable time. These incidents had him get the title “Sir Rekkles the Emotional”.
He knelt before the Gilded Throne, ”Your Grace, I bear grave news.” Whispers filled the room as the knights and barons spoke among themselves. One slammed his fist to the arm of his chair to quiet the room. His sheer size and musculature was enough to intimidate all who saw him.
”Speak then Sir Rekkles. What is this news?” Sir Broxah the Smasher inquired.
Sir Rekkles remained knelt, for he knew the news would not be well received. ”As you can see I have returned alone. I traveled out with Lord Dylan, Sir Caps, and Sir Soaz. Our mission was to deliver Sir Soaz to his ship, and Sir Dylan to his new home in Gelsenkirchen. However….” He paused, and all parties leaned in closer in their chairs. ”After completing our mission, I was betrayed and abandoned by Sir Caps. He has joined the ranks of G2. He left with the message, Ocelote sends his regards.’”
The room collectively gasped. Sir Bwipo’s face was a photogenic shock. A massive horn of annoyance rang out as everyone could almost hear Ocelote's laugh. A fool rushed into the room, screaming at the top of his lungs, ”HE WAS POACHED! G2 HAS POACHED SIR CAPS! THEY TRIED THE SAME TO ME BUT IT DID NOT WORK! WE MUST UNITE AGAINST THE POACHERS” Outside people started screaming the same for some odd reason, not realizing that the fool had been the one shouting.
Sam was not amused, ”Rich, shut the fu*k up. Get him out of my sight.” He sighed as the fool was thrown out of the room. ”Sir Rekkles, are you sure of this?”
”Yes my liege. I apologize for bringing such bad news.” He stood and his armor gleamed in the light.
”Brother, there is no need to apologize, you merely are doing your duty.” Sir Hylissang replied.
”Sir Caps LEFT US!” Sir Broxah slammed his fist through the arm of his chair, smashing it to pieces.
”Fear not my brothers, for I come bearing replacements!” Sir Rekkles stood and smiled. Sir Hylissang looked more confused than when Caps had used Vayne mid. Sir Bwipo of Many Faces struck a new face of amazement none had seen before.
Even more whispers filled the room than before. ”Replace Caps? How can anyone do that? He was compared to the Dark God himself!” They continued until Sam stood and raised his hands.
”Who are these replacements? Where are they?”
”Come in!” The two doors swung open to reveal two warriors in simple armor. One was decorated like a lion, the other with wild hair. ”Meet Sir Nemesis the Expressionless and Sir Felix the Magi. Nemesis was a prodigy at the lower levels and Felix regularly holds 5 positions in the ranking of regional Warriors. One of them can become the successor we need.”
”Impressive. What say you good sirs? Are you ready to join Fnatic?” Sam gestured to the pair. Nemesis knelt, remaining stone faced. Felix remained standing.
”I will do as you command Your Grace.” Only his lips moved, the rest not even so much as a hair from the expression, or lack thereof, he wore upon entering the room.
”I’ll just beat scrubs.” Felix didn’t really look like he knew how to respond.
”Sir Rekkles you have faith in them?”
”I do. We will show the rest that Fnatic will continue to rule over this land!” Rekkles smiled and raised his boomerang blade. The whole room cheered except Nemesis.
In this Game, you live or you die….except me because dying hurts my KDA.
© Post "Off Season at the Fnatic HeadQuarters" for game League of Legends.
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