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In Dev Update - Champs, Lore & More, Laura 'poisonpixxi' DeYoung, Head of IP Creative for Riot Games, elaborated on their new approach to narrative cohesiveness by ironing out any inconsistencies that have sprung up over the years. This article contains information that conflicts with this new narrative and will most likely be changed/moved in the following year(s). For further information on these changes, see Canonical inconsistencies |
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Lore[]
The jungle does not forgive blindness. Every broken branch tells a story.
I've hunted every creature this jungle has to offer. I was certain there were no challenges left here, but now there is something new. Each track is the size of a tusklord; its claws like scimitars. It could rend a man in half. Finally, worthy prey.
As I stalk my prize through the jungle, I begin to see the damage this thing has wrought. I step into a misshapen circle of splintered trees. These giant wooden sentinels have stood over this land for countless ages, their iron-like hides untouched by the flimsy axes of anyone foolish enough to attempt to cut them down. This thing brushed them aside like they were twigs.
How can a creature with this level of strength disappear so easily? And yet, even though it has left this unmistakable trail of destruction, I have been unable to lay my eye upon it. How can it appear like a hurricane then fade into the jungle like the morning mist?
I thrill in anticipation of finally standing before this creature. It will make a tremendous trophy.
Passing through the clearing, I follow the sound of a stream to get my bearings once more. There I see a small shock of orange fur, crouching, waiting. I spy on it from a distance. A tiny fish splashes out of the stream and the creature scrambles for it, diving gleefully into the rushing water. To my joy, I realize it's a yordle. And a hunter, at that!
This is a good omen. The beast will be found. Nothing will escape me.
The yordle's large ears perk up and face toward me. He runs on all fours with a bone 
boomerang in hand, quickly stopping in front of me. He babbles.
I nod in appreciation at the young yordle and venture onward. I traverse the difficult terrain with ease, trying to pick up any sign of my quarry. As I try to pick up his scent, a distraction. I'm startled by strange chittering. The yordle followed me. I cannot allow him to disrupt my hunt. I face him and point into the distance. He looks at me quizzically. I need to be more insistent, good omen or no.
I rear back and let out a roar, the wind whipping the yordle's fur and the ground rumbling beneath us. After a few short seconds, he turns his head and, with what I think could be a 
smile, he holds up his small boomerang. There can be no further delay. I snatch the weapon out of his hand and expertly throw it into a tree, impaling it high amongst the branches. He turns and scrambles for it, 
jumping frantically.
I barely get ten paces when a roar shakes me to my very spine. The deafening crack of stone and wood echoes all around. Ahead, a giant tree crashes across my path. The bone weapon of the yordle juts out from its trunk.
An unearthly growl rises behind me.
I've made a terrible mistake.
Trivia[]
- The story was originally written from
Rengar's point of view; however, with the later established timeline and map settings, the hunter from the story is unlikely to still be him.[1]
References