Fiddlesticks

[Angrry.exe™]

Name of Champion: Fiddlesticks

Champion Photos:

His Story:

For nearly twenty years, Fiddlesticks has lived alone in the eastern invocation room at the War Institute. Only the emerald burning light of his immortal gaze pierces the misty darkness of his hut roof. Here, in the shelter of the endless night, the Witness of the Damnation waits in a mute watch. The story of his life, that of a power out of control, serves as a warning to all League invaders. Tens of years ago, Zaun lived in a powerful magician of the runes named Istyan. At the end of the Fifth War of Runes, the Magus became one of the League's first invaders. Being too fond of old methods of using magic, Istvaan departed more and more from the rules of conduct established by the League. On the occasion of a struggle that would be the last one for him, he lost his enormous power. Isolated in an invocation room in the eastern wing, the incantation of the barest ritual forbidden - an extra-dimensional invocation began.

 

What has happened in that room remains a mystery to this day. No champion came on that day to represent the Zaun state in the Invader's Rift. The repeated beatings in the door of the invocation room only echoed silence and echoes. The first disciple who entered the room was harvested instead of a non-earthly garland. Some others who have tried to penetrate there and survive have turned back horrified, down to some shackled human shells, and screaming about screaming and death. Fearing an evil that Istvaan could no longer control, the League had sealed all the ways to access the hall, hoping that he could lay hold of what he could not destroy. Years have passed with dozens, but the woody silhouette inside does not move at all, except to kill any fool who ventures into the room. Could not find any way to recover the invocation room, the Council instead found a mission for Fiddlesticks: the executioner. Although appearances are animated when and when they seem to act in accordance with the rules of invocation in the Fields of Justice, no one knows what they are waiting for when they are locked in his room. His real face gives no clue, and his shirt is ready to cut anyone in the way.

 

Those who say "there is nothing to fear than the fear itself" have not yet felt the Fiddlesticks crows.