Strength and Responsibility
Jericho Swain rose to power quickly. Some, mostly the Nobles of Noxus, questioned his ability as a result. Others saw his rise as a threat to their power. As a result, Swain had had to prove himself time and again, forcing his naysayers to quiet, either by deed or influence. Slowly, Swain became a welcome sight on the battlefield, slowly advancing with his men. He’d seen his fair share of bloodshed and hell by the end. Battle after battle, the General proved himself further. And yet, Darkwill decided he’d best be suited guarding the homefront, rather than serve in the Ionian Campaign. As a result, Ionia became a quagmire of bodies and blood. Meanwhile, Demacia saw an opening, and attempted to strike at Noxus’ backlines to force Noxus into a war on two sides. Unfortunately for Demacia, Swain manned the wall they’d attempt to force themselves across. Within weeks, Demacia withdrew, their tails between their legs. Darkwill would go on to make horrid decision after horrid decision, until his death. And then the seat of command went empty.
That is, until Jericho Swain took control, and changed Noxus forever.
Swain stood quietly overlooking the dawn sky from his office in High Command. The lights were darkened, allowing for a natural start to the day. Swain began every morning this way, so that he could look over his people, and remember why he continued. Breathing in the morning air, Swain turned to his desk. Already, reports stacked high, each requiring the eyes of the Grand General. A small sigh escaped from his lips. Some days, he missed leading his men into the breach. Hours passed, and Swain found his interest peaked upon an after-action report of a skirmish on the Shuriman front. He’d read through the first report, having noted somberly the men they’d lost.
Each foot they’d moved had been paid for by blood. Always too much blood.
Shaking his head lightly, Swain continued. Apparently, the Shurimans had managed to anticipate the Noxian charge, and had circled the formation, splitting them in twain. The major who’d issued the charge had died in the first crash of men. Swain tutted quietly, silently judging the tactical acumen of the deceased. Moving forward, Swain noted with interest that Darius himself spoke highly of the next event. A captain had apparently seen the coming charge, and had taken it upon herself to hold her men back, and surged after the initial crash. It’d been a bloody affair, but she herself had managed to retrieve the major’s body, fighting a retreating battle, and somehow make her way back to Darius, whose men would quickly turn the tide. Apparently, she’d shown good awareness, an aptitude for tactics, and a strong speararm. Darius made certain to note the various cuts and wounds she’d sustained, and the fact that a good portion of her men had still survived the conflict. As a result, she’d taken the Major’s place. And Darius was forwarding her name for further officer training.
Swain decided he’d like to meet this Major. After all, a glowing report from Darius of all people was rare. Within moments, a summons was prepared, as well as a missive for a blacksmith and a tailor. In his gut, Swain felt he’d found another possible Champion of Noxus. And Jericho Swain, Master Tactician, had learned long ago that you should always trust your gut.
Major Iris R. Ortega would meet with the Grand General himself.
