#kalamanda

[gil-notskajla]

Anyone in need of plain southern continent map with towns and rivers? No one? Here you go anyway>

knowing that from northern coast to Mother of Life it takes 2 months of travel on dormun, if we assume that dormun move at least 6km/h for 15 hours a day (leaving 9 hours for sleep because im generous in naps) this distance measures at least 5400km (3355,4 miles) or more.

[pantheons-delivery-service]

In all fairness, have you seen the rates on Kalamanda ave? We all gotta make a little extra dosh somehow....

Asked by : @irondracconis

Ask / Headcanons

[jarvanlightshieldiv]

"Don't chase the rabbit, Prince."

The Mayor of Kalamda sat at the long end of the table, sweat glistened off the top of his balding head and he ran his fingers over his bushy mustache as he sat in the middle of the fledgling mining negotiations. Beside him sat Jarvan’s father - the King of Demacia - and finally, at the other end of the table, sat Jarvan.He was proud to sit beside his father at such important negotiations. The area around Kalamanda was a rich and vastly important location for various minerals and precious metals, but a sense of foreboding hung low in the air around the village.Across the room, a stir interrupted the King’s pen just as it touched paper. Swain, Grand General of Noxus came forth through the crowd - and past the Valor Knights that stood guard - with his cloak billowing, and a ruffled up miner in tow. Jarvan took to his feet and made a motion for his weapon, but at his father’s behest, stayed his hand.General Swain stood straight as he could on his bum leg as he sneered at the pair of royals. "For those who preach such high and mighty words, you’ve sure taken grand steps to be underhanded here... as my new friend tells me.""Oh?" Jarvan’s father sounded unimpressed. "Do tell, sir.”"It would seem that this Demacian man has just admitted to the sabotage of the mine that you so hastily blamed Noxus for. Imagine that, sire.”The venom apparent in the pair of leaders’ voices was palpable. The King grit his teeth and Jarvan took note of the vein in his forehead throbbing in frustration."A grievous charge, that much is certain… if you can prove it, General.”"Oh, but I can. The poor, poor man clams to have been forced to perform such a heinous crime on behalf of none other than your son; Jarvan IV.”A deafening silence crushed the life from the room as every occupant suddenly grew quiet. A stunned look show on the prince’s face for but a moment before his features twisted into rage. He slammed his gauntleted fist against the wooden table with a terrible crash."Swain, you sack of shit! You’re a blaggard, and a liar. I did no such thing!"He reached for his dragon lance, bellowing on self-righteously, fully prepared to defend his good word… until his father held up a hand to silence him. When The King spoke, he spoke with a cool voice and an attitude that seemed to chastise his son by proxy."Is this true, sir?" The ruddy miner nodded, and Jarvan’s heart went cold. He was being framed.

[demacianjustice-blog]

A Knight and a Berserker Walk Into a Tent...

The trip had been hard, though truly only because of the hurry the two champions were in. Garen, the Might of Demacia, set his gear down next to the perfectly structured tent. In fact, it was too perfectly made. As a leader of men Garen had inspected more tents than he had most likely ever seen meals in his life, and this one was better than all of them. It was obviously the work of magic, the Summoners no doubt. For reasons he could not place, this made Garen uneasy about sleeping inside of it.

"Well, Olaf, I suppose it was fortuitous that we were both late to the Institute. Had either of us been offly timed, this trip might have been doubly hard as a solo mission. Too bad I was not able to get as much information as I would have liked before we had to be off, I barely know what we are looking for." The champion turned and appraised his surroundings. 

The forest seemed normal enough, the small clearing little more than the area of a single oak's branches. The northerly wind carried the scent of wood smoke, he assumed this was from another group's camp to the south, hopefully it would not interfere with their searching. The knight bemusedly wondered who else had been called to this task, investigation was not the strong suit of many, in fact he had been surprised to find Olaf had arrived.

[ask-summonerisaac]

Blazing through the trail, Kalamanda awaits. (Hecarim/Soraka)

Hecarim waited for Soraka outside the great Institute. His arms crossed against his high chest. Looking down at the many summoners that walked by, their stares not long but many. If one had dared look too long at his large armored stature, they would meet the end of his spear and join his cavalry of the dead. Beside him was a small,ratty and decomposing, wooden chariot. Being told by the Institute that it would be best for Soraka to ride on his back, he had nearly summoned his Spirit of Dread upon the fools to suck up their pitiful life essence. Instead he caused an uproar of sorts. Swinging his spear around like a boy attempting to hit a piñata. No being rides on the Shadow of War! How dare you mortals! Simple minded aristocrats! His tantrum was along those lines. The simple summoners apologized on hand and knee and begged for reconciliation. The overseeing summoners promised with trembling words to find something suitable for his partner to travel with him. “They could have at least found a more suitable chariot…” though he disliked the fact of having to drag the Starcaller around like a taxi horse, it was much better than having her ride on his back. The shame of it all! Others would find him less terrifying. They would want to ride atop him during battles on Summoners Rift. His reputation would be squandered. He couldn’t have that. He continued to wait, hoping the matter that Soraka had mentioned would not take too long.