Vayne
In the heart of Demacia, where shadows dare not linger, Shauna Vayne hunts without mercy. A relentless predator, she has sworn to eradicate the demon that tore her family from her grasp. With a wrist-mounted crossbow and vengeance burning in her veins, she finds solace only in the hunt--striking unseen, unleashing silver death upon those who wield or spawn the dark arts.
Opening
Welcome, lore-lovers, to another deep dive into Runeterra! Today, we step into the shadows to unravel the tale of Demacia's relentless hunter--Shauna Vayne. A woman forged by tragedy, driven by vengeance, and feared by the creatures of the dark. This is the story of Vayne, the Night Hunter.
The Chronicle
Shauna Vayne stalks the night, a ruthless hunter bound by vengeance. Her life's purpose is singular--to track and kill the demon that tore her world apart. With wrist-mounted crossbows and an unyielding hatred for the dark arts, she finds satisfaction only in the slaughter of those who wield them.
Born into wealth, Vayne's childhood was one of quiet indulgence. She lost herself in books, music, and the careful study of the insects that crawled through the gardens of her family's grand estate. Her parents, once travelers across Runeterra, had chosen Demacia as their home, believing in its unwavering sense of community and protection.
That illusion shattered on the night of her sixteenth birthday. Returning from a midsummer banquet, she stepped through the doors of her home and into a nightmare.
A stunning, horned woman stood before her--elegant, inhuman. At her feet lay the lifeless bodies of Vayne's parents, their blood staining the floor.
Vayne's scream tore through the night, raw with grief and terror. The demon merely gazed at her, eyes gleaming with dark amusement, and smiled--a twisted, knowing smile--before vanishing into the void.
Vayne knelt beside her mother, trembling hands brushing blood-matted hair from lifeless eyes. Yet no matter how she tried, she could not banish that smile--the demon's terrible, knowing grin. It burrowed into her mind, growing, festering, until it was all she could see. Even as she gently shut her father's eyes--his face frozen in a final moment of bewildered horror--the smile lingered, a scar upon her soul.
Hatred seeped into her veins, a fire that would never die.
She spoke of what she had seen, but no one truly listened. A demon, in Demacia? Impossible. The kingdom's high walls and strict laws against magic were meant to keep such horrors at bay. To suggest otherwise was to be dismissed as grief-stricken or mad.
But Vayne knew the truth. She had seen it in that wicked grin--the promise that the enchantress would kill again. Darkness had already slipped through Demacia's cracks, creeping unseen, lurking where no one dared to look.
Fear had ruled her once. No longer.
With hatred to fuel her and wealth enough to forge her own path, she set out alone. No army would march beside her. No noble house would sanction her quest. She did not need them.
She needed knowledge. She needed to understand the shadows she hunted--to track them, to stop them, to kill those who wielded them.
She needed a teacher.
Vayne's parents had once spoken of warriors in the north--Iceborn fighters locked in an endless struggle against the Ice Witch and her monstrous servants. For generations, they had battled the horrors she unleashed. If anyone could teach Vayne how to fight the dark, it would be them.
Slipping past her appointed guardians, she booked passage on the next ship to the Freljord.
The frozen wasteland welcomed her with biting winds and treacherous terrain. She searched tirelessly for a hunter, someone who could teach her to track and kill the creatures of the dark. But fate had its own way of arranging introductions.
Crossing a frozen ravine, she stepped into a nearly invisible trap. The ice shattered beneath her, sending her tumbling into a jagged pit. Dazed, she looked up--and found herself staring into the hungry eyes of an ice troll. It licked its cracked lips, savoring the meal before it.
Then, with a sharp whistle, a spear cut through the howling wind. It struck true, sinking deep into the beast's skull. The troll staggered, then collapsed into the pit. Vayne barely rolled aside in time to avoid being crushed beneath its massive corpse, blood and saliva pooling around her boots.
Her savior was a hardened woman named Frey--weathered by the cold, her gaze sharp as a blade honed through years of war. By firelight, she dressed Vayne's wounds and spoke of her life's mission. The Ice Witch's minions had stolen her children, and she had sworn to end them all.
Vayne begged to be trained, to learn how to hunt the creatures lurking in the dark. But Frey merely scoffed. The girl reeked of wealth and comfort--neither would keep her blade steady or her spirit unbroken when the fight stretched into bitter, endless nights.
Vayne refused to accept Frey's rejection. Instead, she issued a challenge: a duel. If she won, Frey would train her. If she lost, she'd offer herself as bait to lure the Ice Witch's minions into an ambush. It was a reckless bargain--Vayne had no illusions about her skill. A single afternoon of fencing lessons had bored her, and she had abandoned the sport when forced to fight with one hand behind her back. But she would not back down.
Frey smirked at the girl's audacity. Then, without warning, she hurled a handful of snow into Vayne's eyes and knocked her flat. As Vayne sputtered and cursed, Frey leaned over her with a grin. "First rule of monster hunting," she said. "Don't play fair."
Yet beneath her amusement, Frey saw something she hadn't expected--an unshakable determination. The girl was no warrior, not yet, but she was relentless. Again and again, Vayne pulled herself up from the bloodied snow, bruised and aching, refusing to yield. And with each fall, Frey glimpsed the hunter she might one day become.
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At last, Vayne pleaded once more. Their families were gone. Frey could spend the rest of her life hunting ice trolls until one of them crushed her skull, or she could train Vayne. Together, they could slay twice as many monsters. Together, they could spare others the pain that had shaped them both.
Frey looked into the girl's eyes and saw the same hatred, the same loss that had burned within her for years.
She agreed.
Disguising Frey to slip past Demacia's border guards, they journeyed south. Once within the safety of Vayne's estate, training began in earnest. Days turned to years, filled with brutal lessons and ceaseless drills. Vayne had no patience for the suitors who came calling, no interest in anything beyond honing her craft.
And in time, she and Frey became more than teacher and student. They became something closer to family.
Frey taught Vayne everything she knew--how to track the traces of dark magic, recognize the marks of summoned beasts, and counter vile spells. Vayne absorbed every lesson, but one mystery lingered in her mind: how had Frey come to know so much about the dark forces she despised?
Demacia's vigilant guards and anti-magic barriers kept most creatures of the dark at bay, forcing Vayne and Frey to venture into the border forests for their hunts. It was there, at eighteen, that Vayne claimed her first kill--a ravenous beast that had been preying on merchant caravans.
Drenched in the creature's viscera, something stirred within her--a thrill, raw and electric. Vengeance burned hot in her veins, not just as duty, but as pleasure.
For years, they hunted together, their respect growing with every slain monster. Frey had become more than a mentor to Vayne--she had become something like a mother. But love, to Vayne, had long been tangled with pain. It was a weakness to be cut down before it could wound her.
Then came whispers from the highlands. A demon, horned and impossibly beautiful, had gathered a cult of devoted followers. They lured lost souls into the hills--none returned. The cult's priests performed sacrifices atop a cliffside altar in their mistress's name.
Vayne and Frey set out at once.
The night was silent as they approached the hills, but for the first time, Vayne felt uneasy. A gnawing fear crept into her mind--not for herself, but for Frey. She had lost one mother before. She could not bear to lose another.
Before she could voice her fears, a figure lunged from the underbrush. The cultist's mace crashed into Vayne's shoulder, sending her sprawling. Pain lanced through her, the world tilting. She barely registered Frey's soft apology before the woman's body twisted, her form warping.
A monstrous Freljordian wolf now stood in her place.
Frey struck with terrifying speed, her powerful jaws clamping down on the priest's throat. A single snap, and the body crumpled lifeless at Vayne's feet.
Then, before Vayne could react, Frey shifted back. Her human eyes--wide, searching--held the same look of sorrow as the beast she had become.
She spoke of her past. Of a ritual. Of a curse she had willingly taken to fight the Ice Witch's horrors. Dark magic had given her this power, but she had used it to protect--
Vayne loosed an arrow before she could finish.
The shaft struck Frey's heart, and she stumbled, shock flashing across her face. A tear welled in her eye, but Vayne didn't notice. The moment Frey revealed her true nature, whatever affection had bound them was severed.
She turned from the body without a second glance.
Dawn was still hours away--plenty of time to hunt. The demon awaited. More kills awaited.
Runeterra's monsters would soon fear her as she had once feared them.
For the first time since her parents' murder, Vayne smiled.
Champion's relations
Vayne's relentless hunt is driven by one purpose--finding and killing Evelynn, the demon who slaughtered her parents. The memory of that fateful night fuels her obsession, pushing her ever forward in her crusade against the dark.
When Viego's Black Mist descended upon a Demacian city, Vayne stood alongside Poppy, battling the endless tide of undead. Steel and silver clashed against the spectral army, as the two warriors fought to protect their homeland from corruption.
Vayne clashed with Shyvana when the half-dragon was possessed, seeing her as nothing more than another monster to put down. Her pursuit nearly ended in blood, but Lucian and Senna intervened, stopping her blade and forcing her to see the greater threat--Viego.
During her time as a Sentinel of Light, Vayne found herself reluctantly allied with Graves. Though she held little patience for his brash nature, she eventually came to tolerate his presence, acknowledging him as an ally in the war against darkness.
Closing Words
That was the tale of Vayne, a relentless force against the darkness. If you enjoyed this journey, don't forget to like, share, and subscribe to Liandrug for more lore deep dives. And if you want to be part of a cozy community of lore-lovers, join our Discord--where the discussion never ends, and the stories live on. See you there!
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