As Amon exited the inn he once again looked around, he needed to find this inn.
He had a thought to ask some natives, but these people, even if not trained could smell trouble from a mile away.
So, he decided to explore. Smiling behind his helmet he remembered exploring the Lands Between, just like in the game.
Until he met the Tree Sentinel. Where in the game you could avoid him, in reality he could see you from a mile away.
He walked for a couple minutes until he came across a slightly run down building, a sign loosely hanging.
[The Rusted Valve]
'Nice' Amon thought as he stepped inside, surprisingly the place didn't completely smell like grease inside.
His eyes moved to the old man sitting behind the counter, he didn't particularly look excited about his entrance with his robotic left arm twitching slightly.
"Need a place to sleep." Amon spoke plainly, sliding a golden rule on the counter.
"Third room to the left." The old man didn't question it and managed to keep his poker face, giving him a key.
Amon nodded and walked to his room. It was actually quite clean and cozy, though it only had a large bed and table inside along with the essentials (Window, curtains, etc.)
This would do.
Armor stripped off into Amon's inventory as he sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair.
He laid on the bed and simply stared at the ceiling.
'What do I even want to do here?' he thought inwardly.
He knew for a fact that he wanted to explore these lands, but would he interfere, fight? The talk with Vander made it clear that wars took place in these lands and would continue to do so.
Human nature demanded conflict in his opinion. And the substantial mana in the air, even here in an underground city, suggested the possibility of magic.
And magic – the thirst for knowledge and the unknown attracted conflict.
'Decisions, decisions.' Amon thought, he had made up his mind since earlier, his first destination – Ionia.
A part of him wanted to aid the innocent, after all waging war against good people is bad for the soul.
The other part didn't give a flying fuck.
'I should go to sleep, I will decide when I get there.' Amon thought and closed his eyes; it didn't matter if it was night or day – he had been tired for a long time.
......
*Crackle*
Fire.
Frenzy.
His mind was overcome by orange flames as an untold number of voices screamed at him.
WHY
COWARD
BURN
FREE US
"Silence" Amon thought as the literal flames of Death cleared his mind.
For a moment, peace. For a moment an eye of chaos stared at him:
[Thou shall not deny us; all will burn away]
The voices came back louder.
The cold came back harsher.
…
MAY CHAOS TAKE THE WORLDS!
...............…
The same dream every day. Sometimes he regretted not erasing that pest, sadly the frenzied flame was undeniably powerful and he wouldn't part with power.
Moving on, Amon got out of bed, opting to stay without armor momentarily.
Walking out, he thanked the old man and went to the Last Drop. Apparently, the place was bustling at this time.
He pushed open the door and moved to sit near the counter. Vander was still making drinks but the woman – Felicia wasn't here, instead of her sat a new face.
The place smelled of alcohol and smoke as the people of Zaun conversed and some made deals, many eyes looking over Amon's form.
"What time is it?" Amon sat down and nodded at the Vander and his companion.
"Morning," Vander nodded back and turned to make me a drink.
"Silco" Silco, the man previously seen with Vander extended his hand to Amon.
"Amon." Amon spoke and shook Silco's hand.
*Tap* Vander came back and set his drink down as Amon gulped it down.
"Vander, I need information."
"What kind?" his eyes narrowed.
"Tell me everything you know – about the world, influential people and current affairs like the war you mentioned before. I will make sure to compensate you handsomely."
...
Amon drank, though inwardly he was thinking.
Vander had revealed a lot of things about the world along with notable people and current events.
As far as Vander and Silco knew, these lands made up Runeterra:
Ionia – most likely the first lands of civilization, completely magical in nature. Apparently, the very earth was alive in Ionia. It didn't have one leader but instead was led by monasteries.
Noxus – in Vander's words a place full of warmongers and barbarians. Led by Boram Darkwill.
Demacia – a place of righteousness protected by walls of white. A notable piece of Demacian culture is the fear of mages, which confirmed their existence.
Freljord – lands of endless snow and winter. Different tribes resided in the Freljord.
The Shadow Isles – neither Silco nor Vander knew much, besides that stepping foot there wasn't a bright idea.
Targon – mostly made up of the western mountains with little people.
Bilgewater – a port city mostly made up of pirates.
Ixtal – never ending jungles, little people.
Shurima – an endless desert. Apparently in the past it was the greatest empire the world had ever seen.
Piltover – Zaun's sister state. Where Zaun represented poverty, Piltover represented progress.
Zaun – a pile of trash in Amon's eyes and home in Vander's.
'Fascinating' Amon thought, as his eyes glinted with exploring potential.
Silco also explained the war between Ionia and Noxus better, in simple terms Ionia was fucked. While Noxus prioritized progress and military power, Ionia prioritized peace and were terrified of change.
And while magic incredibly powerful, Ionia most likely wouldn't fight back.
"Hey Vander, do you know how I could get to Ionia?" Amon asked.
"Why, you want to help the Ionians?" Vander asked, though he didn't judge.
"Maybe."
"…"
"You won't find help in Zaun, but maybe Piltover could help you." Silco spoke.
Amon nodded, "How do I get to Piltover?"
"Take the lift at the end of the street." Vander spoke.
"Do you have a bag?" Amon put down his cup and asked Vander who raised an eyebrow but gave him one.
Amon reached into the bag as golden runes ejected from his inventory into the bag.
The sound of gold was heard as the chatter stopped. Every person in the Last Drop turned as they stared at the bag.
"Want something?" Vander calmly asked them as he glanced at the metal gauntlets hanging nearby.
"…" the people turned away.
Amon grinned as he stood up and shook Vander's and Silco's hands.
"Thank you again."
Amon walked out as 10 men stood up and left after him.
......
Amon followed Vander's instructions, walking through the street.
After a time, he reached a specifically narrow passageway as the air grew heavy.
"Stop" a voice spoke behind him and 5 men blocked his exit from the front and 10 from behind.
"Your gold, hand it over" one spoke as they nestled their weapons – pipes, broken bottles and wrenches.
They drew closer as Amon sighed and spoke, "Leave, final warning."
"…" they glanced at each other. They thought they had him cornered.
The first five rushed in as a unit — the plan was to beat him near to death and loot him.
Amon lunged with impossible speed, catching the nearest attacker's wrist mid-swing. With a twist, there was a wet snap — the man's forearm folded like paper. Amon flung him sideways into two others, bodies collapsing against a wall in a heap of groans and curses.
The fourth man raised a crowbar, but Amon ducked under it, drove his elbow into the man's sternum, then spun into a kick that sent the fifth attacker skidding across the ground like a rag doll.
He made sure to not kill them, they were just trying to survive.
But the ten behind didn't wait. They charged together, yelling to rally their nerves.
Amon looked at the first pipe going for his head. He caught it with one hand — the metal bent in his grip — then yanked the man forward into a savage knee that cracked teeth and dropped him cold.
A slightly harder punch blew the remaining men away with bent and bruised limbs, out cold.
Amon looked around, the bodies stayed still and he walked off.