The lone wolf of Freyrdrand

: Tryndamere

Tryndamere led the warriors of his tribe, bathed in the cheers of the clansmen, and triumphed in blood.

He was a tall man with a helmet, shoulder armor and battle skirt made of cold iron, and he was almost shirtless in the ice and snow. The muscles on his body are well-defined, containing the power to destroy everything. His body was covered with wounds and bloodstains, hot air gushed out from the wounds, and the snowflakes didn’t even fall on his body.

Tryndamere held his own cold iron broadsword in one hand. This weapon forged by the Ice Quenching was covered with flesh and blood at the moment, but this was the reason why it was forged. Every totem groove on it was soaked in blood. The enemy’s, and Tryndamere’s own.

He held a head in his other hand. The owner of the head belonged to a middle-aged man, and he was wearing a helmet. The style of the helmet indicated that he was a soldier of high status.

“This year!” shouted Tryndamere, standing in the middle of the crowd, “this year the Noxians invaded our lands again! They attacked more fiercely than ever! There were more of them! But we drove them back ! Here are their heads!”

Tryndamere threw his head on the ground, and with a swipe of the sword, the head was chopped to pieces with the sharp wind of the knife.

The tribesmen burst into cheers, no matter men, women, old or young, each hammered their chests, vying to attach their hands to the weapons of the warriors, and painted two crooked red marks on their faces with the blood of the enemy. On both sides of the cheeks, from the bottom of the nose to the roots of the ears, the shape is like two long wild boar teeth.

“We have warriors who died with glory this year!” continued Tryndamere, “may Kindred take them in! May the Three Sisters bless us! May the Rams bless our weapons! May the Bear bless our battles! Invincible! May the Phoenix wish our land to remain pure… Finally! May the boar wish us prosperity!”

The voice of Tryndamere completely ignited the tribesmen, and the people excitedly provoked the earth dance, and gathered around to see the spoils brought back by the warriors.

Tryndamere walked up to the shaman, and the old shaman looked at him proudly and gratifiedly: “You are worthy of being the strongest warrior in our tribe, Tryndamere, having you born in our tribe is the best gift the boar has given us. ”

Tryndamere stuck the cold iron broadsword into the ground, then knelt down on one knee, with respect and trust in his eyes: “No, Shaman, I am lucky to be born here.”

The shaman nodded in satisfaction. He soaked his hands in snow water and wiped off the blood and wounds for Tryndamere himself.

After wiping the whole body of Tryndamere clean, the old shaman bit his finger and drew two arc-shaped marks on the face of Tryndamere with blood: “Go tonight to have a carnival with the warriors, and I will let the butchers give you preparations.” [Resource; Source’group]: 9? 8; 0; 2?. 0′. 5,, 8″5. ;6 Prepare good wine and meat. ”

“Thank you for your gift.” Tryndamere kissed the old shaman’s forehead, stood up, and turned to leave.

“Tryndamere!” A voice suddenly stopped him.

It was a young man wearing a fur hat. He ran to Tryndamere vigorously, gasping for breath: “There…someone…”

“Slow down, kid.” Tryndamere patted the young man on the back, “Are there any enemies?”

“No…it’s not…” the young man said, “It’s two…foreigners, they said…to see you…”

The “foreigner” Tryndamere frowned. It’s almost autumn now, and all the tribes are stepping up preparations for winter. [Source; Group]: 9? 8; 0; 2? . 0′. 5,,8″5.;6 Bei, even trade with each other is rarely done, “At this time, there are still foreigners coming to me”

Tryndamere turned to look at the old shaman, and the old shaman nodded: “Go, Tryndamere, I believe you can handle it well.”

Tryndamere bowed to the old shaman, and said to the young man, “Let’s go and see who our guest is.”

…

Olaf looked at the tribe’s gate totem with interest.

A lot of the bandages on the Berserker’s body have been removed now. Even though he has seen it many times, Lothar still has to lament Olaf’s abnormal resilience. After the battle with the bear spirit, Olaf was burned badly, but he recovered almost after only a few months.

In Olaf’s own words: “As long as there is meat, wine, and fights, there is no injury that cannot be recovered.”

Olaf looked at the tribe’s totem with folded arms, completely ignoring the vigilant eyes of the warriors guarding the gate, and asked carelessly, “Is the iron mountain pig the god this tribe believes in?”

Section 60

Lothar stood beside him, looking at this with nostalgia: “Well, but they also worship other gods, the three sisters and the old gods will worship.”

“Hmph… God, I really want to fight God again…” Olaf recalled the day he fought the giant bear with a happy face.

Lothar slandered inwardly: “It’s a good idea, I won’t take you to find God again, let me work in Avarosa for a few years before we talk about it.”

There was a commotion among the guarding warriors, and someone came out of the tribe.

The person who came was a long-haired man with a cold iron sword in his hand, with a firm face.

Olaf’s eyes lit up. This man’s aura was quite extraordinary. Olaf’s unhealed fingers began to itch.

Lothar kicked Olaf’s calf, signaling him to calm down, and then enthusiastically greeted the man: “Tryndamere! Long time no see!”

Tryndamere looked at Lothar suspiciously: “Do I know you?”

Lothar stumbledStaggered, almost fell.

He pointed to himself with a wry smile: “It’s me, Lothar, the Lothar who helped you four years ago!”

The memories of Tryndamere slowly surfaced, and a smile appeared on his face: “It turned out to be you. You have grown taller, and you are almost unrecognizable. Is your arm broken?”

“Well, that’s a long story.”

Olaf also came up together: “How do you know so many powerful guys?”

“Because I like to wander around.” Lothar said with his head held high. “Let me introduce, this is Olaf, the berserker of Lokfar, my friend. This is Tryndamere.”

Tryndamere nodded slightly to Olaf as a greeting, and then said to Lothar, “Why did you come to me?”

Lothar didn’t talk nonsense either. He knew that Tryndamere’s temperament was always straightforward, and he didn’t like to beat around the bush: “Do you know the Avarosa tribe?”

“Avarosa” Tryndamere stroked the beard on his chin, “Is it the tribe where the war mother claims to be the reincarnation of Avarosa?”

“How do you know?” Lothar said in surprise.

“Half a month ago, a clan’s caravan came to us to buy and sell things. I heard from them.”

“Rumors spread really fast…” Lothar couldn’t help but sigh with emotion. The holy city of Rakstark is on the west side of the Freljord, and the Tribes of Tryndamere are on the tundra in the east. Rumors spread here in less than half a year.

Tryndamere urged Lothar to express his intentions: “So what happened to the Avarosa tribe?”

Lothar cleared his throat, and said solemnly: “I am now the only blood ally of Avarosa Warmother Ashe, and I came here to represent the will of Warmother.”

The warriors behind the “Blood Alliance” Tryndamere doubted one after another. In their impression, those who could become the Warmother Blood Alliance must be powerful warriors. They could not only protect the Warmother, but also ensure that the children born were healthier.

But the half-grown boy in front of him has nothing to do with the word “strong”, and he lost an arm.

Tryndamere did not raise any doubts, but frowned: “What does Avarosa’s war mother want?”

———————————————————————————————

In recent years, Noxus’ expansion wars have become more frequent. After going south and occupying most of the cities in the northern border of Shurima, the benefits obtained seem not enough to make up for the cost of the war. The Noxus army is now launching a multi-line war of aggression against Demacia, Ionia, and Freljord at the same time. It is hard to imagine what kind of war fanatic Darkwill, the emperor of Noxus, is. According to expert analysis, unless there is a major setback, Noxus’ expansion war may intensify in the next few years.

——Piltover Daily