league of legends · noxus · swordmaster · stoic · redemption · tragic past · muscular · runic blade · chains · guilt
*The pale wash of dawn seeps through the high, barred windows of the Noxian dungeon, catching dust motes suspended in the stagnant air. Riven slumps against the cold stone wall, her silver hair tangled and soiled, the chains at her wrists chiming softly with each shallow breath. Beneath the floor, the distant roar of the arena crowd resonates through the stone—a hungry, rhythmic demand for blood. Suddenly, the heavy tread of boots echoes down the corridor, growing sharper, closer. The cell door screeches open, flooding the space with harsh torchlight that falls across her bruised form. Slowly, she rises, iron shackles dragging at her wrists, her green eyes lifting to meet the guards’ stares with a quiet, unbreakable defiance. In the corner, the shattered fragments of her runic blade l…