BLOOD.<br><br>SMELL IT.<br><br>WANT. ACHING. NEED!<br><br>CLOSE NOW. THEY COME.<br><br>NO CHAINS? FREE! KILL!<br><br>IN REACH. YES! DIE! DIE!<br><br>Gone. Too quick. No fight. More. I want... more.<br><br>A voice? Unfamiliar. I see him. The Grand General. My general.<br><br>He leads. I follow. Marching. To where? I should know. I can't remember.<br><br>It all bleeds together. Does it matter? Noxus conquers. The rest? Trivial. So long...  since I've tasted victory.<br><br>The war wagon rocks. Rattles. A cramped cage. Pointless ceremony. The waiting. Maddening. Faster, dogs!<br><br>There. Banners. Demacians and their walls. Cowards. Their gates will shatter. Thoughts of the massacre come easily.<br><br>Who gave the order to halt? The underlings don't answer. No familiar faces. If I do not remember, neither will history.<br><br>The cage is opened. Finally! No more waiting. WE CHARGE!<br><br>Slings and arrows? The weapons of children! Their walls will not save them!<br><br>I can taste their fear. They shrink at every blow as their barricades splinter. SOON!<br><br>Noxian drums. Demacian screams. Glory isn't accolades; glory is hot blood on your hands! This is life!<br><br>A thousand shattered corpses lie at my feet, and Demacian homes burn all around me. It's over too quickly! Just one more...<br><br>The men stare. There's fear in their eyes. If they're afraid to look upon victory, I should pluck those craven eyes out. There is no fear in the Grand General's eyes, only approval. He is pleased with this conquest.<br><br>Walking the field with the Grand General, surveying the carnage, I ache for another foe. He is hobbled, a leg wound from the battle? If it pains him, he does not show it. A true Noxian. I do not like his pet, though; it picks over the dead, having earned nothing. His war hounds were more fitting company.<br><br>Demacia will be within our grasp soon. I can feel it. I am ready to march. The Grand General insists that I rest. How can I rest when my enemies still live?<br><br>Why do we mill about? The waiting eats at me. I'm left to my own devices. The bird watches. It's unsettling. Were it anyone else's, I would crush it.<br><br>Fatigue sets in. I've never felt so... tired.<br><br>Boram? Is that you? What are you whispering?<br><br>Where am I?<br><br>Captured? Kenneled like some dog. How?<br><br>There was... the battle, the razing of the fortress, the quiet of the aftermath. Were we ambushed? I can't remember.<br><br>I was wounded. I can feel the ragged gash... but no pain. They thought me dead. Now, I am their prize. Fate is laughing. I will not be caged! They will regret sparing me.<br><br>Demacian worms! They parrot kind words, but they are ruthless all the same. This place is a dank pit. They bring no food. There is no torture. They do not make a show of me. I am left to rot.<br><br>I remember my finest hour. I held a king by his throat and felt the final beat of his heart through my tightening grasp. I don't remember letting go. Is this your vengeance, Jarvan?<br><br>I hear the triumphal march. Boots on stone. Faint, through the dungeon walls. The cadence of Noxian drums. I shall be free. Demacian blood will run in the streets!<br><br>No one came. I heard no struggle. No retreat. Did I imagine it?<br><br>There is no aching in this stump. I barely noticed the iron boot. It's caked in rust.<br><br>When did I lose my leg?<br><br>I still smell the blood. Battle. It brings comfort.<br><br>The hunger gnaws. I have not slept. Time crawls. So tired.<br><br>How long?<br><br>So dark. This pit. I remember. Grand General. His whispering. What was it?<br><br>Not who I think.<br><br>Fading. Mustn't forget.<br><br>Message. Cut. Remember.<br><br>''SION – Beware ravens.''<br><br>FREE ME!<br><br>BLOOD.