Fueled by unbridled fury and rage, Tryndamere once carved his way through the Freljord, openly challenging the greatest warriors of the north to prepare himself for even darker days ahead. The wrathful barbarian has long sought revenge for the annihilation of his clan, though more recently he has found companionship with Ashe, the Avarosan warmother, and a home with her people. His almost inhuman strength and fortitude is legendary, and has delivered him and his new allies countless victories against the greatest of odds.
Struggling to survive in the harsh, frostbitten Freljord, the young Tryndamere and his people warred with other tribes over the scarce resources of the land. One such battle changed his life forever. Raiders ambushed Tryndamere's clan in the dead of night, and though his warriors were able to push the first wave of attackers back, they weren't prepared for the that next stepped forth. He wielded a cruel, living sword, and inspired an unhinged bloodlust in the invaders with his unearthly magic. Tryndamere's tribe was overrun within moments. With no hope of defeating the enigmatic being, Tryndamere threw himself at certain death. The dark figure swatted him aside, mortally wounding the young barbarian.
Tryndamere saw death and destruction engulf his home as his life slipped away. No one was left standing - only the screams of the dying remained. Unable to surrender to death, Tryndamere gave in fully to his wrath. His blood boiled and his anger consumed him, banishing his mortality. He staggered to his feet - barely able to take hold of his sword - steeling himself for the decisive confrontation with the shadowy being. But the dark figure did not even lift his blade, and instead gave Tryndamere a knowing smile as he withdrew into the shadows. That was the last time the barbarian ever saw his nemesis.
A man robbed of his home and his people, Tryndamere wandered across the Freljord for years, vowing to forge himself into a brutal instrument of revenge. He visited all the tribes in the frozen wastes, besting each of their warriors until there were none left to challenge. In doing so, he mastered the barbarian ways of war and harnessed his anger as a force to be reckoned with. With sword in hand and rage in his heart, he is now on an undying quest for vengeance against the one who destroyed the life he once knew.
There are those who choose not to live in one of the great city-states of Valoran. Instead, they live in remote locales, often as part of a nomad or barbarian tribe. While perils abound in these untamed lands, there is also great freedom in being removed from the politics of Valoran. Tryndamere was born a member of one of these barbarian tribes in northern Valoran. Even as a young boy, it was obvious that he would grow in martial prowess to become one of his clan's greatest warriors. However, as his clan moved south between the Howling Marsh and the Ironspike Mountains, they came across strangers in black garb, brandishing symbols of a beast's skull. Despite Tryndamere's pleas, his elder went out to speak with the strangers; they cut him down mercilessly. From there, they began to slaughter every man, woman, and child in the clan. Tryndamere, the sole survivor, hid under the bodies of his dead parents. Upon their bloodied corpses, he swore eternal vengeance on those who took his people from him - the assassins of Noxus.
To train himself, Tryndamere voluntarily served under all the great chieftains of the barbarian tribes, learning the ways of the barbarian warrior. Not only did this make him the man he needed to become in order to exact his revenge, it has also garnered him friends and allies among the most powerful barbarian leaders of Valoran. This recently allowed him to unite the barbarians into a single, powerful force - all under his command. Now he has joined the League of Legends to earn enough influence to find a permanent home for his people... and to slake his rage on the champions of his hated foes.
Prior to V126.96.36.199:
There are those who choose not to live in one of the great city-states of Valoran. Instead, they live their lives in small villages or nomadic tribes. There are most certainly perils in these untamed lands, but there are also great freedoms that come from being removed from the politics of Runeterra. Tryndamere was born a member of one of these nomadic tribes, a large child of surprising strength. One year, as his clan moved south between the Howling Marsh and the Ironspike Mountains, they came across strangers in black garb. The elder went out to speak with them, but they cut him down mercilessly. They then began the slaughter of every man, woman, and child in the clan. Tryndamere, the sole survivor, hid under the dead bodies of his parents, swearing vengeance on those who took his people from him - the assassins of Noxus. He has since joined the League of Legends to bring honor to the memory of his people and to slake his rage on the champions of his hated foes.
"Beware of Tryndamere! His sword appeases the hunger of the soul-devouring dead."
There was a legend among the barbarians clans of the Fyrone Flats, told each time one of their own was to give birth. It was a story about a child who would enter the world with a distinctive mark on his belly-a black circular rune, resembling a snake, coiled over on itself, biting at its tail.
It was said that when this child was born, it would signal the beginning of a new era. It was said that the barbarian tribes would rise up, and under the banner of a serpent-shaped rune, they would rule the world.
When that child was born, the barbarian nations rejoiced. They feasted and drank and danced. And when they finished, they donned their skins, lifted their swords, and they flooded out of the flats to begin an onslaught that once again plunged the world into war.
The child, named Tryndamere, became a formidable warrior. And now, here at the Institute of War, he is prepared to unleash his barbaric strength and take his place atop the world.
- Released in Alpha Week 6 (March 25th, 2009)
Tryndamere fights with the strength of many boar. He was born into tribal poverty, but bore the mark of the chosen one...
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