Hand of Noxus @axeofnoxus-blog - Tumblr Blog

strengthprevails

It had been several moons passed since the last breath of interaction had befallen the general and Riven. Nothing had particularly swayed either mind in a direction of political gain, but perhaps were more open to each other’s goals -- the acceptance of Noxus’s direction, and the dire situation that still ails it with each new battle. A situation of weakness through its own desire of strength. The dissatisfaction in the ways the master tactician had taken to fix Noxus were not completely without their merits, though anyone would agree it could never be worse than the cowarding hide of Boram Darkwill. A man who recessed Noxus’s power into the rich and safe and abandoned those who gave their lives for the strong alliance. Those whom Swain looked after in his stead.

And while he would forever remain unwavering in enforcing Swain’s rule, there would be the same doubt that lingered within him as Riven had, though to undoubtably a severely lesser degree. She was permitted to access Noxus for the time in light of her charges, though not particularly at his own behest, and more through her own ability to remain shaded to the eyes of any military. Yet she was easy to track when pressed to the matter.

A simple note would befall into her possession, with only a bold request -- which could barely be called as such and rather a demanding point -- signed by the general. She had found her way into his offices by her own accord before, and would undoubtably be able to do so again, though he could at least make it simpler for her by changing the venue to something less conspicuous. The coordination of a small compound just slightly outside of Noxus, a building used for little else than rest for returning scouts.

#strengthprevails

strengthprevails

Who hadn’t heard of Sion in all his military feats and victories? While Riven had known nothing of the man but everything of the soldier, that in and of itself was more than enough to inspire her when she’d been just a fresh recruit. Death was not below him, but he did not fear it. His enemies cowered before him, and he crushed them all with the core of Noxian ideals in every swing of his axe.

The strong survived. The weak did not.

To think such a man would be so wronged, so heavily desecrated to be brought back from the dead though sorcery and desperation…

Yes; it truly did make her sick.

(Noxians were not immortal; they were simply strong. Those who lived did so because they had earned it; those who died fell because their weapons were no longer enough to sustain them. That had been the unspoken rule, the ideal that drove every man, woman, and child to pull their own weight and become great.

Riven had never needed any further affirmation of Boram Darkwill’s incompetence and failure as a Noxian leader, but this was only further proof.)

…Still, Sion’s fate was not for either of them to decide, so Riven withheld any further opinion as she withheld most everything else. It was clear enough that Darius, too, didn’t approve of the old soldier’s resurrection, and that was enough when further discussion would lead to no decisive action. So instead Riven followed him down along the path, making her way through the door and down old, nostalgic stairs with little regard to the hand he offered her. It wasn’t disrespect; it was more a result of independence, a long-instilled belief that she needed no help in getting to where she desired.

"If what you say is true, then I’ll see it for myself. But I’ve never thought of compulsory military service to be any chink in our armor, even if it brings unwilling recruits into the army’s ranks. I’d rather have a city full of people who know how to fight and survive than a city half-filled with people whose hands have grown soft and their ideals more aligned with cowardice in the face of any potential battle."