Galio
Beyond the grand city of Demacia stands Galio, the stone colossus, ever watchful. Constructed as a defense against enemy mages, Galio remains immobile for decades, only awakening when potent magic is nearby. When roused, he relishes the excitement of battle and the rare privilege of protecting his fellow Demacians. However, his victories are tinged with sadness, as the magic he dispels is also what gives him life, causing him to fall dormant after each triumph. Welcome, lore-lovers, to another fascinating journey into the rich tapestry of Runeterra's legends and histories. Today, we delve into the captivating story of Galio, the stone colossus of Demacia.
The Chronicle
The legend of Galio begins in the aftermath of the Rune Wars, a time when countless refugees fled the devastation wrought by magic. In western Valoran, a group of these displaced individuals were relentlessly pursued by dark mages. Exhausted and desperate, the refugees sought refuge in the shadows of an ancient, petrified forest, where their pursuers' magic mysteriously failed to work.
The fossilized trees naturally dampened magic, rendering any sorcery within the forest ineffective. Empowered by this discovery, the refugees turned their swords against the dark mages and drove them away.
Some believed this magical sanctuary was a divine gift, while others saw it as a well-deserved reward for their arduous journey. Regardless, they all agreed that this place would be their new home.
As years went by, the settlers began crafting protective items from the enchanted wood. Eventually, they discovered that mixing it with ash and lime created petricite--a material highly resistant to magic. This petricite became the cornerstone of their new civilization, forming the walls of the emerging kingdom of Demacia.
For many years, these petricite barriers provided the Demacians with a sense of security against magical threats within their homeland. When conflicts arose beyond their borders, Demacia's military, known for its fierce and formidable prowess, generally prevailed. However, when their enemies used sorcery, Demacia's army struggled. The challenge became clear: they needed to extend the protection of their magic-dampening walls to the battlefield.
The sculptor Durand was commissioned to create a petricite shield for the military. Two years later, he unveiled his masterpiece: the winged statue, Galio. Though it was not what many had anticipated, Galio became crucial to the nation's defense and a symbol of Demacia's strength throughout Valoran.
Utilizing a system of pulleys, steel sledges, and countless oxen, they transported the massive stone figure to battlefields. The sight of the awe-inspiring titan, known for "eating magic," often caused would-be invaders to freeze in terror. Galio inspired the kingdom and struck fear into its enemies.
However, no one considered the potential consequences of exposing the statue to such unpredictable magical energies...
Demacia had been entrenched in battle against enemy forces in the Greenfang Mountains. For thirteen days, a skilled order of warmages known as the Arcane Fist bombarded the Demacians with crackling bolts of raw, mystical power. The surviving soldiers, their morale waning, huddled close to Galio. Just when their spirits seemed at their lowest, a slow, deafening rumble echoed through the vale, as if two mountains were grinding against each other. As a massive shadow loomed above them, the Demacian soldiers braced themselves for death.
A deep voice thundered from above. To their astonishment, it was the colossus behind them--Galio was moving and speaking entirely on his own. The accumulated magic had somehow brought him to life. Galio positioned himself before the Demacians, shielding them from attack after attack, absorbing each magical bolt into his massive stone frame.
Then, with mighty strides, Galio bounded up the mountainside and crushed every last member of the Arcane Fist into the craggy soil.
The Demacians cheered, eager to thank the petricite sentinel that had saved them. However, as swiftly as he had come to life, their formidable protector ceased moving, returning to his pedestal as before. Back in the Great City, the bizarre tale of the Battle of the Greenfangs was recounted in hushed tones by the few survivors, often met with silent incredulity. The event passed into legend, perhaps seen as an allegory of ancient days meant to offer solace in hard times.
Certainly, no one believed that the colossus could still perceive all that transpired around him. Despite his immobility, Galio remained conscious, yearning to experience the thrill of battle once more.
He observed mortals passing beneath him, year after year, paying him tribute. It puzzled him to see them disappear one by one as time went on. Galio wondered where they went when they vanished. Perhaps, like him, they were sent away to be mended after returning from their own battles?
As the years slipped by, Galio began to realize the sorrowful answer to his question. Unlike himself, the people of Demacia could not be repainted or easily repaired. Mortals were frail, ephemeral beings, and he now understood just how desperately they needed his protection. Fighting had once been his passion, but the people were now his purpose.
Even so, Galio has been summoned to battle only a handful of times in the centuries since. Demacia has turned inward, with magic becoming rarer in the world than it once was, leaving the petricite colossus dormant, observing the world through the murk of his waking dreams. The statue's greatest hope is to be blessed by magic so powerful that he will never be forced to sleep again.
Only then will Galio be able to truly fulfill his purpose: to stand and fight as Demacia's protector, forevermore.
To better understand what is Galio and how he thinks, let's delve into this story that we we fortunately have about Galio and his internal struggles, the story called "A hero wakes" which, as every great strory starts with a war that was approaching, and Galio could do nothing but watch as the Demacian soldiers prepared for it. He couldn't recall how long it had been since he last tasted magic. Many times, he had been carried from his plinth only to return without awakening. Even when his body was still, his mind was always active.
And it longed to fight.
In the distance, Galio could just make out the bristling rows of northern barbarians. Even in his dulled, dreamlike state, he could tell their ranks were sloppy and undisciplined, pacing to and fro in eager anticipation of their Demacian foes. Galio had overheard many discussions about these wildmen, given their recent conquests. The fearful citizens whispered that the Freljordians left no one alive, mounting the heads of their enemies on enormous tusks from strange beasts.
But the barbarians were of little interest to the colossus. His eyes found a bigger prize--a titanic shape, nearly as tall as the hills behind it. It moved ominously, heaving like the waves of a troubled sea, waiting to be unleashed.
What is that? Galio thought hopefully. I hope it fights.
Below him, his Demacian comrades marched in precise synchronization, chanting a cadence to banish all thoughts but battle. To each other, they sounded confident in their victory, but to Galio, who had heard this song countless times before, their rhythms seemed less certain, more hesitant.
They are not excited to battle this great beast. I will do it for them!
Galio was filled with the urge to scoop up every one of these men in his arms and tell them it would be fine, that he would spring forth and chase the entire invading army back to its borders. But he couldn't. His arms, legs, and claws were as cold and inert as the stone he was hewn from. He needed a catalyst, a powerful magical presence, to awaken from his living dream.
I hope there's a mage this time, he thought, gazing toward the horizon. Usually, there isn't. I hate it when there isn't.
His worry grew as he heard the oxen snorting with exhaustion, knowing they would soon need to be replaced. Finally, his cart stopped at the battlefield's edge--no parley, no chance of surrender. The clash erupted in a flash of limbs and blades. Brave voices cried for their mothers.
Suddenly, a shock of blinding purple seared through the fray, dropping scores of Demacians to their knees. Galio felt it then--the familiar sensation in his fingertips. The flash came again, sapping life from more Demacian soldiers. In the distance, a cowardly sorcerer readied his next attack.
"There he is. He is the reason I wake," Galio realized, first in gratitude, then rage. "I will squash him first!"
His attention was drawn to a towering behemoth struggling against chains. Galio smiled. "Now that is a foe worthy of my fists."
The creature, freed from its blinders, roared and struck down Demacians with ease. Galio felt life returning to him.
"Yes! At last!"
The sensation shot through him. For the first time in a century, he could move. A stone giant's laughter echoed across the valley.
Galio leapt into the fray, knocking aside siege engines. "Hello, great beast," he rumbled. "Shall I smash you?"
The creature howled in acknowledgment. They collided with earth-shaking force. The behemoth groaned in pain as it crumpled to the ground.
"Come now, no need to feel bad," said Galio. "That was a good try. Now hit me again."
The monster slowly pulled itself to its feet, regaining its angry glint. It struck Galio with all its might, raking away a piece of his head.
"You broke my crown," said Galio, pleasantly surprised by the challenge. He swung his petricite fist down like a club, shattering bones with a resounding crack.
The beast staggered, screaming and swinging blindly.
Galio grabbed the beast around the waist, attempting to break its spine. But it twisted free, circling warily before backing away.
"Wait! Our battle must be resolved!" bellowed the colossus, lumbering after the fleeing creature.
But the cries of his Demacian comrades reached him on the wind. Galio had strayed too far from the battle. Reluctantly, he turned back.
As the abomination limped away, Galio gave it one last wistful gaze. "Farewell, great beast."
He thundered back to his comrades. Many were lying in agony, tortured by unseen coils of power--the same magic that sustained him.
Seeing the terror in their faces, Galio turned to the malevolent sorcerer. He leapt high and crashed down onto the mage, interrupting his incantation and crushing him into the ground. The invaders fled in terror.
As the sorcerer's magic faded, Galio felt conflicted. The animating force was draining from him. He had saved countless lives but was being dragged back to slumber.
He pondered why he lacked magic like all living things. Was it his creator's intention? As dormancy embraced him, Galio found solace in life's brief, magical moments.
Until the final day. Until he would awaken to break the world's last mage, and the stone sentinel of Demacia would rest forever.
Champion's relations
Even though he spends most of his time slumbering, Galio has some relations with different characters. Arcturus J. Durand, the creator of Galio, also designed Sylas's shackles. Galio is the only animated golem crafted by Durand.
Galio once fought against Vladimir and the Noxian army.
The Crownguards, including Luxanna Crownguard, annually visit Galio on the Memorial Road like many Demacians. This tradition allowed Galio to become aware of Lux's growing light magic from a young age. Over the years, Lux has been the only mage Galio has favored and has become a guardian to her. Lux was the first person to have a real conversation with Galio when she was just 13 years old.
Closing Words
And there you have it, fellow lore-lovers--another chapter unveiled from the annals of Runeterra's lore. If you enjoyed this exploration into Galio's story, don't forget to like, share, and subscribe to Liandrug for more captivating tales from the League of Legends universe. Join our Discord community to engage in lively discussions about lore, champions, and all things about Runeterra. Until next time, may the legends of Runeterra continue to inspire and enchant us all.
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