Driven by an intense killer instinct, Katarina uses her talents as an assassin for the glory of Noxus, and the continued elevation of her family. While her fervor drives her to ever-greater feats, it can sometimes lead her astray.
From childhood, Katarina displayed a natural gift for combat. As the daughter of a prominent Noxian general many paths were open to her, but she rejected them all for the path of the blade. Rigorously trained by the finest assassins in Noxus, her father the best among them, it was not long before Katarina demanded her first assignment. The task they gave her was aggravatingly simple: assassinate a low-ranking Demacian officer. As she set to her work infiltrating the enemy camp, Katarina discovered an opportunity too tantalizing to pass by – the arrival of a Demacian General. Stalking him to his tent, she quietly dispatched his guards and slit his throat. Pleased with her impressive kill, she disappeared into the night. Katarina’s elation faded the next day when her original objective, the Demacian officer, led his forces to ambush unprepared Noxian soldiers. Though the Noxians fought valiantly, they suffered heavy casualties. Furious at her mistake, Katarina set off to complete her original task. Returning to the camp, she spied her now heavily guarded target and realized a stealthy kill was no longer possible. Drawing her blades, Katarina swore the officer would die, no matter the cost. She leapt into battle, unleashing a whirlwind of steel. One by one blades flashed and guards fell, each strike bringing her one step closer to the officer. A final thrown dagger restored her honor. Bloody and bruised, Katarina barely escaped the Demacian forces, and returned to Noxus a changed woman. The scar she earned that night now serves as a constant reminder that she must never let passion interfere with duty.
"Never question my loyalty. You will never know what I endure for it."
?Katarina

Unlike his brother Darius, victory in battle was never enough for Draven. He craved recognition, acclaim, and glory. He first sought greatness in the Noxian military, but his flair for the dramatic went severely underappreciated. Thirsting for a method to share "Draven" with the world, he turned his attention to the prison system. There he carved out the celebrity he desired by turning the tedious affair of executions into a premiere spectacle.
At Draven's first execution, he shocked onlookers when he ordered the doomed prisoner to run for dear life. Just before the man managed to flee from sight, Draven brought him down with a flawless throw of his axe. Soon, all Draven's executions became a gauntlet through which Noxian prisoners raced for a final chance at life. He used this trial as his own personal stage, and turned executions into a leading form of entertainment. He rallied onlookers into a frenzy, while desperate prisoners scrambled to evade him. They never succeeded. Rejecting the solemn, black uniforms of Noxian executioners, Draven donned bright outfits and developed flashy signature moves to distinguish himself. Crowds flocked to see Draven in action, and tales of his performances spread quickly. As his popularity grew, so did his already-inflated ego. He belonged at the center of attention. Before long, the scope of his ambitions outgrew the population of Noxus. He decided that the glorious exploits of Draven should be put on display for the entire world.

"The 'best' is wherever I decide to set the bar each day."
?Draven

Gangplank was born the son of the dread pirate captain Vincent the Shadow - one of the most wealthy and feared pirates in all of Blue Flame Island. One might think this would have spoiled the boy with a cushioned life of privilege, but the truth is quite the opposite. Growing up in the city of Bilgewater isn't easy; pirates are not known for their compassion, and that most certainly extends to their families. Vincent wanted his son to grow up tough and strong, so he was extremely hard on the young Gangplank. Even as a child, Gangplank was as mean as a snake and is said to have slept with his eyes open. As he grew, the young man rapidly became the most ruthless and feared pirate in all of Bilgewater, and his daddy was never more proud than on the day of his son's eighteenth birthday - when Gangplank stabbed his old man in the back and claimed the famed pirate ship, the Dead Pool, for his own.
The continent of Valoran, however, is a dangerous place for pirates; Gangplank could read the writing on the wall. The den of pirates known as Bilgewater would soon be pulled down by the undertow of Valoranian politics and the Institute of War. It was time for Bilgewater to have their own champion to represent them in the League of Legends, and who better than the fiercest pirate of them all? It is said that Gangplank has enough power and favor to claim the title of the Pirate King back home, but that he is simply biding his time and building his reputation as a champion before he returns to a life of piracy.

"Yo ho, blow the man down. Or at least shoot him when his back is turned and steal all his booty."

Once, Nautilus was a sailor commissioned by the Institute of War to explore the uncharted reaches of the Guardian’s Sea. This expedition took him deep into unknown waters where he and his crew found a vast section of the ocean’s rich blue waves were replaced by a black, oozing liquid that none of the crew could identify. Though their job was to investigate anything new that they found, no man aboard was willing to brave the murk except Nautilus. Only moments after he donned the hulking diver’s suit and climbed over the ship’s rail, something lurking in the muck grabbed hold of him. He clung to the side of the ship, but the thing below pulled him fiercely, rocking the entire ship. The other sailors grew afraid and made a terrible decision. As he stared and pled for help, they wrenched his grip free of the rail. He tumbled to the ink, grabbing the anchor in futile desperation. As he sank, he could do nothing but watch as the dark outline of his ship faded away. Then everything went black.
When Nautilus awoke, he was something different. The great iron suit was now somehow part of him, he could not tell where it ended and he began. All the details of his memory were fuzzy and indistinct but one fact remained clear: he was left here, alone in the sunless depths, to die. In his hands he still clutched the anchor that belonged to the men who had condemned him. Having no other purpose, he took this clue and trudged - too heavy to swim or run – in search of answers. He wandered without direction or sense of passing time in what felt like an eternal dream. By the time he stumbled upon the shores of Bilgewater, he could find no traces of the man he was. No house, no family, no life to which he could return. Terrified sailors who’d heard his tale directed Nautilus back to the Institute, but the summoners refused to relinquish the names of the others they commissioned. By then Nautilus had learned about the League of Legends and there he saw an opportunity to discover and punish those responsible for the time and life he lost.

"When lost in utter darkness, there is nothing left but forward."
?Nautilus

Although born to poor gypsy parents, the champion known as Twisted Fate was able to gamble his way to prosperity as a card shark in the seedy underground gambling circuits of Demacia and Noxus. No matter how close the authorities came to catching him, the rogue always found a way to slip through their fingers. Despite his good fortune, he was never able to win that which he truly desired - the ability to control magic. When Twisted Fate learned of an experiment being conducted in Zaun that might help him with his wish, he did the only thing a gambler of his worth could do - he went all in and volunteered for the experiment.
Conducted by the infamous Dr. Xavier Rath, Twisted Fate was told that the wager for such participation might be steep. He might change forever, or nothing might happen, or he might die horribly. Pain, however, was likely a part of the deal no matter the outcome. These were hardly the worst odds the gambler had faced; his hopes raised, Twisted Fate underwent the experiment, enduring what he must for a chance at his dream. Then, it ended - with seemingly no effect whatsoever. The gypsy rogue flew into a murderous rage, but, before he could strike down the team, he suddenly teleported himself miles away. With a sly grin, he realized his luck had won out yet again. He now brings his luck and rakish charm to the Institute of War, where he is the champion of choice for many - especially the gambling kind. To this day, Twisted Fate has avoided his inevitable reunion with Dr. Rath. The Card Master knows, however, that a confrontation is coming.

"While the future may be mysterious and unknown to most, Twisted Fate is certain that his future lies within the cards."

Malcolm Graves was born in the back of a Bilgewater tavern and left there with a bottle of spiked milk. He survived a childhood in the pirate-run slums using every dirty trick in the book. Intent on building a new life for himself, he stowed away on the first ship to the mainland he could sneak aboard. However, the grim realities of the world forced him to eke out an unsavory living in the underground of various city-states, jumping the border whenever things got too hot. At a particularly high-stakes game of cards, he found himself seated opposite Twisted Fate. They both flipped four aces on the final hand. It was the first time either conman had met his equal. The two formed an alliance, swindling marks at the tables and scrapping back-to-back in the alleys afterward. Together, they ran the streets – stacking chips, decks, and rap sheets.
Unfortunately Graves made the mistake of hustling a hefty sum from Dr. Aregor Priggs, a high-ranking Zaunite official and businessman. When Priggs discovered how he’d been played, he became obsessed with revenge. He learned about Twisted Fate’s all-consuming desire to control magic and he promptly offered him a trade: serve Graves up in exchange for enrollment in a procedure which would grant his wish. Twisted Fate took the deal – both he and Graves knew the stakes of their arrangement, but the offer was too good. Once acquired, Priggs had Graves taken to a special location built to hold men whose crimes – or more precisely their punishments – were meant to stay off the books. Graves endured years of captivity at the hands of Zaun’s most unscrupulous wardens before he managed to escape. One of his fellow detainees introduced him to an eccentric gunsmith who modified a shotgun exactly to his specifications. He named it “Destiny.” After he paid a visit to Priggs, Graves joined the League of Legends with two targets in his sights: Twisted Fate and payback.

“They got a saying in the locker: ain’t got nothin’ but time to plan."
?Graves, the Outlaw

For those who brave the harsh seas of Runeterra, attaining one’s own ship and crew is the pinnacle of success. Sarah Fortune, a well-respected (some would say legendary) bounty hunter from Bilgewater, was able to achieve this feat just after her sixteenth birthday, etching out her name as the go-to gal for resolving special troubles. No bounty was too difficult or too dangerous for her feminine charm and her renowned use of her twin pistols, "Shock and Awe". Her success gave her the means to legitimately purchase her own ship - with a little flirtatious haggling, of course. Things weren’t always so fortunate for Miss Fortune, though. When she was young, trade ships began to dot the horizon of her quiet home along the northern shores of Blue Flame Island's largest chunk. Trade routes brought piracy, and the inhabitants soon found themselves caught in a frenzy of pillage.
One day, young Sarah returned home to hear gunshots and screaming. Her front door was smashed open; inside, she saw her mother lying in a pool of blood. A sudden blow to her head made her collapse next to her slain mother. The last thing she could remember were her attacker’s red eyes, as his face was blocked by a rogue’s bandanna. Miss Fortune has a strong distrust for pirates and she finds herself constantly bickering with the infamous Gangplank (the only captain to resist her charms) over the direction of Bilgewater politics. Her two goals: to unite the people of Bilgewater, making them into a strong and independent society, and to find the pirate who killed her mother. To that end, she has entered the League of Legends as a champion, trading her skills for the wealth and influence that will help her accomplish both.

"More men have voluntarily surrendered to the care of Miss Fortune than any other bounty hunter."
?Grinnick Torip, Bilgewater Bonds

The earliest account of Swain's existence comes from a Noxian infirmary doctor's notes. According to them, Swain limped into the ward without cry or complaint: his right leg was snapped in half, with bone protruding from the skin. A small, scowling bird seemed affixed to his shoulder. The doctor gawked in horror as the young adolescent answered questions about his health and age with a calm, even stare. Even behind the echoing crack as the sand counterweights reset his tibia, Swain’s measuring gaze never flickered, nor did his eyes twitch from the pop of his fibula. He refused the doctor’s recommendation of magical treatment for the leg’s inoperable damage, requesting only a spare crutch before shuffling away. He next surfaced in documents from the Noxian military, although it is evident that they are incomplete. Normally a crippled boy would be turned away in shame from Noxus’ proud legion, but the records indicate his first designation was that of a ranking officer.
The men who've served under him (and survived) have remained in his charge with unshakable faith and loyalty. He leapt through the High Command's hierarchy, often ascending when superiors requested demotions to join his unit. A cunning strategist, Swain was decorated after every battle he fought, regularly hobbling in contemplation at the front of the assault. His rise to power seemed unceasing until he was suddenly relegated to inactive status prior to the Ionian Invasion - a bewildering decision which reeked of bureaucratic subversion. If Swain was upset by the events which unfolded, he never belied it. His face was so implacable that it was popularly rumored to be a mask, disguising something utterly inhuman beneath. More controversy surrounded the bird that never left his shoulder, whose name he whispered only to it. When Demacia escalated its presence in the League, Swain was immediately returned to active duty.

"If you haven't yet lost the ability to ask, you may not yet ask for relief."
?Swain

Even amongst yordles, Rumble was always the runt of the litter. As such, he was used to being bullied. In order to survive, he had to be scrappier and more resourceful than his peers. He developed a quick temper and a reputation for getting even, no matter who crossed him. This made him something of a loner, but he didn’t mind. He liked to tinker, preferring the company of gadgets, and he could usually be found rummaging through the junkyard. He showed great potential as a mechanic. His teachers recommended him for enrollment at the Yordle Academy of Science and Progress in Piltover, where he may very well have become one of Heimerdinger's esteemed protégés, but Rumble refused to go. He believed that Heimerdinger and his associates were "sellouts", trading superior yordle technology to humans for nothing more than a pat on the head while yordles remained the butt of their jokes.
When a group of human graduates from the Yordle Academy sailed to Bandle City to visit the place where their mentor was born and raised, Rumble couldn’t resist the temptation to see them face-to-face (so to speak). He only intended to get a good look at the humans, but four hours and several choice words later, he returned home bruised and bloodied with an earful about how he was an embarrassment to "enlightened" yordles like Heimerdinger. The next morning he left Bandle City without a word, and wasn’t seen again for months. When he returned, he was at the helm of a clanking, mechanized monstrosity. He marched it to the center of town amidst dumbfounded onlookers and there announced that he would join the League of Legends to show the world what yordle-tech was really capable of, without hiding behind a foreign banner.

"Ugh, it’s gonna take forever to scrape your face off my suit!"
?Rumble

For nearly twenty years, Fiddlesticks has stood alone in the easternmost summoning chamber of the Institute of War. Only the burning emerald light of his unearthly gaze pierces the musty darkness of his dust-covered home. It is here that the Harbinger of Doom keeps a silent vigil. His is a cautionary tale of power run amok, taught to all summoners within the League. Decades ago, there existed a powerful rune mage from Zaun - Istvaan. At the end of the fifth Rune War, he became one of the League's first summoners. Too much a prisoner to the old ways of magic, Istvaan stepped further and further outside the rules of conduct in the League. In what was ultimately his last match, his reach finally exceeded his grasp. Sealing himself inside the easternmost summoning chamber, he began incanting the most forbidden of rituals - an extra-planar summoning.
What exactly happened inside that chamber remains unknown. No champion came to represent Zaun that day in Summoner's Rift. Only silence echoed back from repeated knocks on the chamber door. The first apprentice who entered was cut down immediately by an unearthly scythe. What few who followed and survived were driven mad by fear, mere husks of men gibbering about crows and death. Afraid of the evil even Istvaan could not control, the League sealed all exits to the chamber, hoping they could contain what they could not destroy. Years went by, but the wooden figure within never moved save to slay any foolish enough to enter. Seeing no recourse to reclaim the chamber, the Council instead devised a use for Fiddlesticks: executioner. While he comes to life and seemingly abides by the rules of summoning in the Fields of Justice, what he awaits inside his chamber is unknown. His unmoving face yields no clues, and his scythe stands ready to strike down any who stand before him.
"Those who say 'you have nothing to fear but fear itself' have not yet felt the crows."