What followed was a drunken woe-off, a night of debauchery, gothic poetry and operatic singing that saw the men and women of the Slaughter Docks hurl themselves into the monster-filled ocean rather than listen to their maudlin duets. After all, shared woe is better than solitary woe. The hooded and hunched figure of Yorick headed south from the bloody carnage of the Freljord and did not stop until he reached the sun-bleached wastes of Shurima.
Sunlight was something new to Yorick, something he avoided for fear of people recoiling from a face not even a mother could love. He helped excavate the tombs of long-dead emperors, which allowed him to spend a great deal of his time in the darkness underground - something his fellow diggers certainly appreciated. His unique bass was the perfect tool to crush the soft rock of Shurima, but often had the side effect of liquefying the sand to a degree where many of the workers excavating the tombs were buried alive.
To many of these buried souls, this was preferable to enduring another moment of conversation with a man who could literally bore rock. After being forcibly ejected from dig sites all across Shurima and months spent deep underground with long-dead princes, Yorick decided that he too desired to be buried in the sands. He dug deep into the bedrock to craft his own shadowed mausoleum, and there he interred himself within a lightless tomb, intending to pass the aeons in splendid isolation.
And so Yorick slept beneath the desert until Karthus and Kayle prised open his tomb. The two singers did nothing to disabuse Yorick of the idea that aeons hadpassed and that all who desired him dead were, themselves, now dead. The entombment of Mordekaiser beneath the mountain of Freljord had inspired Sona, and while the other members of the band split to the far corners of Runeterra in despair, she was consumed with the desire to craft soaring, symphonic rock operas.
The dread crew swiftly departed as Sona set up her keyboards and began to sculpt the island with sonic brutality. So powerful were her notes that they travelled between worlds and sank entire continents a planned gig in Atlantis had to be cancelled. Encircled by mighty volcanoes, Sona set the sky ablaze with hellfire dragged from the heart of the planet.
Yet, as awesome as it was, her playing needed more. It needed the demonic wailing of unearthly guitars and the quaking thunder of drums and bass. Though it went against every instinct he possessed, Olaf did not stay and die under the mountain with Mordekaiser. So, to mourn his survival of what he always believed was to be his final performance, he sought to drink himself to death with the deadliest booze of Runeterra.
He found a fellow named Gragas, and ended up in the depths of Zaun with him, drinking potent sump cocktails, bragging of his glory days and daring chem-jacked thugs to take him on.
He readily found ways in which to ply his trade as a professional hitter of things, and soon found himself embroiled in underground golem fight-clubs. Up against chem-powered golems, Olaf found his natural talent for pounding drums was also good for pounding mechanical giants to pieces. Bellowing in rage at this denial of death, Olaf surged to his feet, ready to pound again. He found himself face to skull with his old lead singer.
When the mountain fell on Mordekaiser, he took it as a sign from the Gods of Metal that his demonically-ordained task to bring metal to the masses was done, that he had achieved full Metal. His power chords had so shredded the very fabric of the world that the universe smote him with a mountain. A fitting end to the high priest of metal. But Mordekaiser knew he would be reborn, rising from the molten ruins of the fallen peak as the once and future king of metal.
But as time passed, his wait became a slumber. The crushing mountain was shunned by those who lived in its dark shadow, an evil peak of black metal and cursed rock. Upon its highest summit, the gleaming, obsidian haft of a snarling axe protruded from the rock. Legends grew around this cursed place, legends telling that whosoever drew the axe from the mountain would be the one to reunite the heralds of a new age of metal.
When the mountain finally shuddered and fell, a brazen god of rock was revealed. As Mordekaiser rose to meet the giant who had drawn the axe from the rock, he saw his old bandmates accompanied by a fiery, hellion-valkyrie from beyond. Karthus held out his axe, its razor strings shivering with anticipation.
When a mountain fell on Mordekaiser, he took it as a sign from the Gods of Metal that his demonically-ordained task to bring metal to the masses was done, that he had achieved full metal. He knew he would one day be reborn, but as time passed, his wait became a slumber. The crushing mountain was an evil peak of black metal and cursed rock. Legends grew around this cursed place, legends that foretold whosoever drew the axe from the mountain would be the true herald of a new age of metal.
Karthus embarked on a solo career in Bilgewater, earning a crust as a hooded reciter of funeral dirges. Karthus made a career touring squalid dive bars to sing at the drunken wakes of murdered pirates instead - what with grim dirges being a vast improvement on sea-shanties.
Sunlight was something new to him, something he normally avoided for fear of people recoiling from a face not even a mother could love. His unique bass was the perfect tool to crush the soft rock of Shurima, but often had the side effect of liquefying the sand to a degree where many of the workers excavating distant tombs were buried alive. To many of these unfortunate souls, this was preferable to enduring another moment in the presence of a man who could literally bore rock.
Sona was consumed with the desire to craft soaring symphonic rock operas and tour the grandest temples of the world and elsewhere but no acoustics were powerful enough to satisfy her need for the most cosmically resonant sounds. There she unleashed the music of creation.
So powerful were her notes, they travelled between worlds and sank entire continents indeed, a planned gig in Atlantis had to be cancelled. After surviving what he believed was to be his final performance, Olaf sought to drink himself to death with the deadliest booze of Runeterra. Previous Play Pause Next. Track 01 Lightbringer Fellow armsmen, I ask you, Will you follow me tonight to break their spine, And reclaim what once was mine?
Those cravens. Backstabbed me, deceived me, Never shall I tolerate their crimes again, Now let the hunt begin. Call down the reckoning, To bring back hope and peace, Restore our gloria, To live forever. Bring down the dark regime, I know how to unleash eternal power, Lead us to order, I am the Lightbringer! Fellow warriors, I ask you, Should my campaign come to an end?
Fighting shadows, in their haunting guise. Smiting the wicked baron, and unleash my might. When we face our final hour, in the darkest rift. After channeling my power, Your end will be swift. Clashing minions, ravaged fields of war. Manifest my dominion, total chaos restored. Spells of war, Hear my call, Help me take them down. This melody seeks a new victim, Let it penetrate their mind.
And when we finally meet their king, There will be no ghost for him, We shall end it all.
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