Some in the clan knelt, believing that their boar-god stood among them. An unusual storm swept in from the east, bringing with it an icy darkness, and a towering, horned figure silhouetted against the full moon. Tryndamere himself grew to be a brash and formidable warrior, but it wasn’t until a particularly cruel midwinter night that his strength was truly tested. They were able to fend off other raiding tribes, slay the great beasts of the mountains, and repel Noxians encroaching to the south. The stamina and dueling prowess of Tryndamere’s people became legendary. Since the raw materials required for armor were scarce, the clan instead put its resources toward the forging of great blades, inspired by their god’s ivory canines. Though they praised all the Freljord’s old gods, as well as the Cult of the Three, they prayed most often to a spirit-deity known to ravage the tundra-a hearty and unkillable tusklord. Tryndamere came into the world knowing only the harshness of survival, for the frozen steppes where his clan made their home never truly thawed. His almost inhuman strength and fortitude are legendary, and have delivered him and his new allies countless victories against the greatest of odds. The wrathful barbarian has long sought revenge for the annihilation of his clan, but more recently he has found companionship with Ashe, forging an alliance of marriage with the Avarosan warmother. Fueled by unbridled fury and rage, Tryndamere once carved his way through the Freljord, openly challenging the greatest warriors of the north to prepare himself for even darker days ahead.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |