Aatrox Wallpaper And Story of Aatrox

Aatrox is a legendary warrior, one of only five that remain of an ancient race known as the Darkin. He wields his massive blade with grace and poise, slicing through legions in a style that is hypnotic to behold. With each foe felled,  Aatrox's seemingly living blade drinks in their blood, empowering him and fueling his brutal, elegant campaign of slaughter.

The earliest tale of Aatrox is as old as recorded history. It tells of a war between two great factions remembered only as the Protectorate and the Magelords. Over time, the Magelords won a series of crushing victories, leaving them on the brink of obliterating their sworn enemy forever. On the day of their final confrontation, the Protectorate army found themselves outnumbered, exhausted, and poorly equipped. They braced for inevitable defeat.

Just when all hope seemed lost, Aatrox appeared among the ranks of the Protectorate. With but a few words, he urged the soldiers to fight to the last before throwing himself into battle. His presence inspired the desperate warriors. At first, they could only watch in awe as this unknown hero cleaved through their enemies, his body and blade moving in unison as if one being. Soon, the warriors found themselves imbued with a potent thirst for battle. They followed Aatrox into the fray, each fighting with the furious strength of ten until they had won a most unlikely victory.

Aatrox vanished after that battle, but the Protectorate army's newfound fury did not. Their surprising triumph led to many more until they were able to finally return home victorious. Their countrymen hailed them as heroes, but though they had saved their entire civilization from destruction, darkness lingered in the mind of each warrior. Something within them had changed. Over time, their memories of battle faded, only to be replaced with a grim revelation: their acts of heroism were, in fact, brutal atrocities committed by their own hands.
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Ahri Wallpapers And Story of Ahri

Ahri had always felt a strange connection to the magical world around her; a connection that was somehow incomplete. Deep inside, she felt the skin she had been born into was an ill fit for her and dreamt of one day becoming human. Her goal seemed forever out of reach, until she happened upon the wake of a human battle. It was a grisly scene, the land obscured by the forms of wounded and dying soldiers. She felt drawn to one: a robed man encircled by a waning field of magic whose life was quickly slipping away. She approached him and something deep inside of her triggered, reaching out to the man in a way she couldn't understand. His life essence poured into her, carried on invisible strands of magic. The sensation was intoxicating and overwhelming. As her reverie faded, she was delighted to discover that she had changed. Her sleek white fur had receded and her body was long and lithe, the shape of the humans who lay scattered about her.

However, though she appeared human, she knew that in truth the transformation was incomplete. A cunning creature, she adapted herself to the customs of human society and used her profound gift of beauty to attract unsuspecting men. She could consume their life essences when they were under the spell of her seductive charms. Feeding on their desires brought her closer to her dream, but as she took more lives, a strange sense of regret began to well within her. She had reservations about actions which never troubled her as a fox. She realized that she could not overcome the pangs of her evolving morality. In search of a solution, Ahri found the Institute of War, home of the most gifted mages. They offered her a chance to attain her humanity without further harm through service in the League of Legends.

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