Through the Darkened Gate @mitna-rachnun - Tumblr Blog

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I saw a female “”””Mordekaiser””” design today and I just had to parody it.

Sue me.

Also, fem!Morde would be as buff as Illaoi but this is just for meme purposes anyways, soo....

#mordekaiser #female #fem!morde #leagueoflegends #league of legends #fanart #fan #art #league #mitna-rachnun

#Mordekaiser #iron revenant #mitna-rachnun #league of legends #league rp #lol rp #iron #revenant #tyrant #warlord #art #league of legend art #league of legends art

RAM

Dark hair, gentle eyes, stern words.

He remembers the woman that had given him life.

He abhorred his father.

Born into this world one of countless bastard children of the reigning Warlord, Sahn-Uzal was to find his strength by opposing what his sire stood for.

Excess, meaningless pleasures of the flesh, the Warlord abused his position to further his own selfish desires.

Women, gold, power, it was all he had ever cared for.

But destiny was not one of them.

His mother taught him of it, of a purpose greater than the need of men to incite violence in hearts and to give into their urges.

No, there was fate governing every soul’s purpose in its all too brief mortal existence, where death reaped those unfit for greater things.

And fate had compelled him to take up arms against the Warlord, to topple him, to find a path to pursue that would guarantee him a place in history.

To not be forgotten.

To dine among the gods in the Hall of Bones.

To be worthy.

RAM

He gazes skywards, limbs burning as exhaustion stars taking its toll unto a mortal body.

But this was not the time to rest!

He couldn’t, not while he was still unworthy to share a table with the Conquerors of old, to dine with the gods.

A flash of metal overhead, obscuring the gray morning sky.

He growls through gritted, bloodied teeth, urging his muscles to respond to his call as he pulls up his shield.

And deflects the strike of a spear that would have otherwise found his exposed neck.

He tumbles to his legs, heavy armour weighing heavily on him, causing his beaten and bruised form to cry for release.

He remembers the lance that threw him from his steed, the ribs that shattered when his thick warplate had bulged inwards, rending his body.

He remembers the words of his kinsmen, of his priests, tolling of the glory that awaits those who are deemed worthy.

He knows he cannot fall, not now.

Gripping his mace tighter, knuckles white from grasping the heavy weapon for hours, Sahn Uzal roars.

“Come! Prove yourself! Earn your place among the gods!” He yells, dark eyes finding his foes as the Warlord’s rallying cry calls his own troops to his side.

They would be victorious, or they would be thrown into the void, to be forgotten.

But he would NOT be forgotten.

He refused.

🔥 LeBlanc

The Revenant chuckles, amusement being evident in every word he spoke.

“Ah yes, if it isn’t the Matron of the Black Rose herself.” He purrs, the soul-flames within his iron carapace flickering in response.

“Where to begin, really? Your petty manipulations are easily traced back throughout history, and they all lead back to me.” Mordekaiser remarks, resting his horned face against his propped up palm, his throne, forged from the unworthy wailing in response.

“Just like all the Noxians that now live in the shadow of the Empire that was, and the one that forever will be, you simply latch unto the achievements of greater minds.”

“You may embody guile and trickery, but none of it may compare to proper deceit. I have whispered far greater promises through the veil between worlds, I have found rebirth in the sheer weight of my own words.” Clearly content with indulging his own recollections of past glories, the Revenant’s gaze shifts to meet the faceless sorceress’.

“What have you accomplished though? Your betrayal of me was obvious, and you played directly into my hands. Allowing me to return to my own kingdom, to Mitna Rachnun, now that was certainly a true display of deception.”

“On my part. The deceiver has been deceived. You now seek to draw from the same well of death that fuels my own empire, using its power to do what? Maintain the guise of a never-aging mortal form? Pathetic.”

Mordekaiser’s hulking Iron form shifts, leaning slightly forward.

“Know this, Deceiver. You have been nothing but a pawn in my very own game. A mortal thinking itself beyond an immortal will. No words of mine can ever truly sing of your failure, but history might.”

The tyrant chuckles as he sinks back unto his throne, the pale sorceress not even worthy of his contempt.

justmorerpmemes

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🔥 falsecalling

“I once believed the lies of priests and their promises of meaning, Karthus.” The Revenant remarks with a deep rumble, recalling those bygone days when his mortal self conquered in the name of gods and not for his own destiny.

“Just like them you hide behind fickle creed, trying to imbue your own existence with some form of divine justification.” He continues, his cruel gaze set on the Lich.

“The truth is, mist-bound as you are, that there is no higher power giving meaning to life or death. It is the fear of failure, a need to rationalize suffering and pain, that faith feeds on. And it denies the individual’s own merit...and their shortcomings.”

He chuckles, knowing very well how faith shackles a soul to ambitions that are not their own.

“You hide behind this veil of grand calling, when in fact, you lack purpose, Karthus. You are nothing but a slave to the mist, like a bird singing of the glory of its own gilded cage. Bound and with no greater ambition, you are just as misguided as the mortals who you seek to enlighten with the promise of a meaning in death.”

Mordekaiser laughs, raising his iron fist skywards as his realm of Mitna Rachnun sings for him.

“There is purpose to be had for all those willing to submit to my will. I do not hide behind words of higher powers governing one’s fate. I AM fate, I am NOT a silent god.” The Revenant roars as his soul flares up into cold flames, surging in the vast emptiness of his Iron harness.

“Once you see reason, Lich, then I may welcome you and reward you with a purpose beyond the Mist’s ravenous, misguided hunger.”

Roast prompt: Your rabbit ears? WACK. Your interior design skills? WACK. Your exterior design skills? WACK. Your fake altruism? WACK. The way you make oblivion look *good* by comparison? WACK. Your armored shorts? WACK. Your thigh-high boots? WACK. Your interpretation of worth? WACK. Me? I'm tight as FUCK.

The Revenant looms, a mantle of enslaved souls clinging to his Iron form as he crosses his iron-wrought arms in front of his chest.

“Very well, I see mortals have always loved spiting gods only for them to smite them.” Mordekaiser remarks with a soft chuckle, the words unable to break his composure.

“I do like the feisty, those who oppose me. They bring me such joy once I bend them to my will.” He muses with a shrug of his broad shoulders, causing the Iron pillars on his pauldrons to rise and fall like a mountain range forged of Iron.

“I hope you are content with these last mortal words you’ll ever mutter, fool. You have all of eternity to think of smarter ways to insult and thrash against your new Lord.”

Another wavering soul passes through the Darkened Gates of Mitna Rachnun.

What ~else~ can you do with that long, *thick* mace?

Behind a darkened visor, glowing eyes of cruel witchfire narrow at the strange question the revenant received.

“How droll.” He mutters, the suggestive tone not escaping him as he calls Nightfall to his side.

The weapon, forged out of the souls of those foolish sorcerers who had thought of using the Revenant’s might for their own gain, phased into existence with a menacing glow as his iron grasp around its shaft tightened.

He raises his weapon of dark renown skywards, poising its pommel on the ground as the tyrant’s powerful arm wraps around its impressive handle.

“Nightfall serves more purposes than simply crushing those fools who dare oppose me.” The revenant muses with a deep rumble, his gaze shifting behind the darkness of his visor.

“It is a manifestation of my will, a testament to domination. It is might made iron.” He continues, seemingly using this opportunity to flaunt his apparent superiority and dominance.

“But you were not referring to Nightfall, were you, mortal?” Mordekaiser sneers as he heaves his mace over his spiked pauldron.

“Matters of the flesh do not concern me anymore. I have transcended mortality and reached an existence far beyond the confinements of flesh!” The revenant’s voice echoes loudly, the faint teal glow inside of his skeletal chestplate surging into passionate flames as he looms over the mortal’s form.

“Come, let me show you.”

Another wavering soul passes through the Darkened Gates of Mitna Rachnun.

If you have absolute power over the bricks, why don't you just tell them to shut up? Are the worthy gonna have to deal with an afterlife full of screaming furniture?

The Revenant tilts his horned visage ever so slightly to the side, his massive form of iron standing tall as he crosses his powerful arms over his broad chestplate.

“The wailing of lesser souls is nothing more than an elegy of eternity.” Mordekaiser sneers as the master of Mitna Rachnun gazes down upon the mortal’s form.

“The worthy learn to accept it as both a reminder what they could have become if their strength had failed them, as well as a hymn to their success.”

A low chuckle escapes the Revenant, mimicking the rising and falling of a mortal chest, heavy metal plates shift.

“Besides, why should I care for something as meaningless as the echoing sounds of eternal servitude?”

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Step on me daddy morde

The Revenant looms, his monolithic form more akin to tower than man.

Cruel, unyielding gaze shifts in the darkness of his visor as he notices the mortal at his feet.

“Both the willing and those who oppose me shall be crushed under the weight of my Iron boot.” His sepulcher voice rumbles hollow from within the shell of blackened Iron as he brings down his armoured heel on the life-weary fool.

Another wavering soul passes through the Darkened Gates of Mitna Rachnun.