𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑒 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠． [𝐸𝑘𝑘𝑜 𝑋 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟]

• 𝑀𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐻𝑎𝑙𝑙 •

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"𝑁𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑎 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢．" －𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑦 𝐺𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒

𝑃𝐼𝐿𝑇𝑂𝑉𝐸𝑅 𝐾𝑁𝑂𝑊𝑁 𝐴𝑆 𝑇𝐻𝐸 city of progress, thriving and improving mankind. Inventors, crafters, sailors, artists and the new generation piquant councillor to rule the envisage civilian's. World wide chefs and delicacies venturing the graced land of Piltover.

Merchandise balancing the crystalline and affluent streets swamped of nobles and royals originating of monumental respected clans, New hex-tech to advance the fundamental human spirit.

Every topsider born of not a silver spoon but a factual golden treasure, education granted at birth. Military never a worry or cause of destruction or chaos, Enforcers never dare reef on arbitrarily aristocrats abstract door.

Scraps fail to be an option, sky scraping property embracing the solitary stars. Flag raise high as are noses, to snobbish to see the below barren picture.

Mugging never top priority, satchels of Golden Hexes, Silver Cogs and Bronze Washers. Forever engrossing progression fashion over shelter and hot meals. Vast nations must form alliances including Noxus, to weaponize magical voodoo of sorts,   Brutal Expansionist Empire.

When crossing the bride, air deems tenser and a thick slice constancy. Pollution in veins and lungs,  Magenta controlled attics.

It ruled of not a council but of a Gambling, drunken trenchers, attic suppliers and assassins begging an assignment for a generous reward of silver cogs.

Far from the toxin river, a wasteland of misfit toys on a playground of Zaunites. Piltover liberally gracing the lanes of leftover fragments to inhabit a despondent life.

The left behind land, remaining of rumble. Controlled of gangsters, drug lords and a dagger wielding Industrialist. Vapour of Amaranthine mask and injected man-slaughtering remedy. bankrupt, beggars, needy and outcasts.

Unrestricted markets selling portions of illegal products, No place to raise a kid. Though when make do, Kids scavenge to scintillating, thieving and conceiting members.

The fine wine aged women inhales a shimmering gas mask, Magenta dissolving fumes infecting crystal oxygen. Her irises enlarge ivory, returning to emerald shades and a slight appalled gasp.

Crimson lipstick smudges, her pearly gloved fingers camouflage the guilty pleasure vapour mask in her extensive chalky apron pouch. Her faint jittery cotton glove combs her trimmed silvery locks, an inky beauty mark spotted above her buttoned-up ruby lips.