Since the beginning of conflict's existence, one of the most deceptive ways to go about dealing with enemies was poison. The mixture of certain chemicals and substances, allowed for even the most menial of wounds to become a death sentence. Poison is used by the likes of everyone, from Singed, to Cassiopeia, to Teemo and has no doubt remained popular since its conception. But there is a dark truth to these toxic substances. Knowledge lost to the ages, poison is actually a dark old magic. Along time ago, poison did not exist. Thousands of years ago, a Mage by the name of Lazarus was seeking a way to purge the world of his enemies. At the time, death would be rather quick, with weapons and spells being used as the primary form of combat. Lazarus wanted to find a way to kill his enemies softly, under the guise of sickness, so they wouldn't suspect, and inevitably group against him. Through experiment after experiment, he was finally able to come up with poison, an enchanted magical substance, made purely to inflict pain and death on others. But before it could come to use, he himself was invaded. His enemies had already become weary of him, and in doing so, discovered his plot. They stormed his subterranean chamber and pushed him into his own pool of toxin. The poison seared his flesh and destroyed his body, but his mind so full of hate, that he imbued himself into his creation. As his body dissolved, the poison was slowly absorbed into the ground. As time passed by, poison was forgotten, and lost to the ages. Only to be rediscovered millenniums later by the future inhabitants of Valoran. The first time poison was used to harm another living being again, something awoke deep underground. The long forgotten pits of Lazarus filled with venom, and out of them rose an aberration of nature that was once Lazarus. His body had returned, acid flowing through its veins. "What am I?" It asked itself, for its name had been lost to time. All it could feel was an incredible pain. It wandered for years, searching for an exit, slowly being driven insane by its own suffering. Eventually when it made it to the surface, it found itself in an alien landscape. Not the enchanted forest it once remebered, but a street bustling with commotion. By now the pain had turned to hate, and with intense anger, struck out at the closest living thing. The man screamed in pain as he ran faster then he ever did, collapsing in a heap down the road. Nearby onlookers fled, as the aberration grinned. Nevermind that it didn't remember its name, this new world would be perfect.