Views: 662 Shaco, the Demon Jester, Pt. 3 Teaser
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hey guys, Its me again. Decided i've waited too long to get back to this, so i wrote a quick page and decided i would turn it in to the public for a quick taste! I've decided to write some mystery into Shaco's past with this, as well, just as an easter egg. Let me know what you think so far!
This is the long-awaited final part 3 of my Shaco lorecraft! Sorry for the wait... I frankly forgot that I was working on it (mah bad...).
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Flashes of a blood caked knife with a gleaming edge, men falling with open throats, cries of pain and sorrow. Gliding through an ocean of bodies, all of them screaming from between clenched teeth and painfully twisted faces, lips pulled up tightly, wailing in a sadistic eulogy to the joyful damned. Shaco was an unstoppable force, killing again all those he had killed before. Strike after strike, his arms never grew weary, and his thirst was never slated. More and more he slew, going back further and further into his past, until he came upon a slight man with a pointed face, and a grin all his own. Shaco leapt forward to firmly plant his blade into the despised man's chest, but upon meeting the fabric of his shirt, the dagger faltered, and refused to sink into its rightful home. Looking up in horror, Shaco saw the man's grin spread ever wider, as he lifted his own knife, shining silver decorated with onyx and ebony runes, and plunged it straight towards Shaco's exposed throat...
A sharp bump yanked Shaco from his dreams, and nearly planted him on his rear on the bottom of the cart. He looked around to see his now familiar co-passengers, Aileen and her daughter, Brinella, who was now thankfully rid of her cough, and smiling almost constantly. Apparently she was on her way to see her father, who was stationed in the Noxus military barracks as a cook. Shaco supposed that, for some people, that was a happy thought.
"Rorin, you have been asleep for several hours. Having a pleasant dream?" asked Aileen. She was still completely fooled by the disguise he wore. To be fair, Shaco was playing the part beautifully. It really wasn't her fault.
He twisted his head back and forth, and massaged his neck. Sleeping while leaning against a window on a bumpy carriage was certainly not a great way to get beauty rest. "Well," he replied, "it was good, until it got to the end." A bit of honesty wouldn't hurt.
"Oh?" She asked in a concerned manner. "What turned it around?"
He thought for a moment to himself before he replied. "I came across someone I would rather forget." Or find and butcher like I should have done twenty years ago, he thought to himself.
This is the long-awaited final part 3 of my Shaco lorecraft! Sorry for the wait... I frankly forgot that I was working on it (mah bad...).
***
Flashes of a blood caked knife with a gleaming edge, men falling with open throats, cries of pain and sorrow. Gliding through an ocean of bodies, all of them screaming from between clenched teeth and painfully twisted faces, lips pulled up tightly, wailing in a sadistic eulogy to the joyful damned. Shaco was an unstoppable force, killing again all those he had killed before. Strike after strike, his arms never grew weary, and his thirst was never slated. More and more he slew, going back further and further into his past, until he came upon a slight man with a pointed face, and a grin all his own. Shaco leapt forward to firmly plant his blade into the despised man's chest, but upon meeting the fabric of his shirt, the dagger faltered, and refused to sink into its rightful home. Looking up in horror, Shaco saw the man's grin spread ever wider, as he lifted his own knife, shining silver decorated with onyx and ebony runes, and plunged it straight towards Shaco's exposed throat...
A sharp bump yanked Shaco from his dreams, and nearly planted him on his rear on the bottom of the cart. He looked around to see his now familiar co-passengers, Aileen and her daughter, Brinella, who was now thankfully rid of her cough, and smiling almost constantly. Apparently she was on her way to see her father, who was stationed in the Noxus military barracks as a cook. Shaco supposed that, for some people, that was a happy thought.
"Rorin, you have been asleep for several hours. Having a pleasant dream?" asked Aileen. She was still completely fooled by the disguise he wore. To be fair, Shaco was playing the part beautifully. It really wasn't her fault.
He twisted his head back and forth, and massaged his neck. Sleeping while leaning against a window on a bumpy carriage was certainly not a great way to get beauty rest. "Well," he replied, "it was good, until it got to the end." A bit of honesty wouldn't hurt.
"Oh?" She asked in a concerned manner. "What turned it around?"
He thought for a moment to himself before he replied. "I came across someone I would rather forget." Or find and butcher like I should have done twenty years ago, he thought to himself.
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