[WIP] A Tale of the River King
[11/7/11] After settling on wanting to tell a Tale of the River King I began to look for any information I could find about him. I found a small blurb on Universe, Tahm's original launch reveal, and champion insights from his development. What stood out was Tahm Kench is a nomad of the entirety of Runeterra. Throughout research and plotting, I have come up with a few ideas and questions. Where does the story take place? What is Tahm's volition? Who else would be in this story? What tone would the story portray? What is the story itself trying to say? What is the conflict of the story? How can I make it short and sweet? And finally, the main point of it What makes Tahm Kench awesome? How can I make it interesting?
[Start of the contest to 12-15-17] Initial brainstorming and Theme/inspiration collecting.
Tahm Kench (antagonist)
Charming yet dangerous.
Whimsical and grim.
Touch on the hat!
Crossroad's demon, Kappa demon.
Dangerous and humorous.
Loquacious, charming, two-faced, slimeball.
(John, underground betting and gambling. Danger and curiosity)
Savors the suffering.
A deal with Tahm, will take you where you want, but you'll end in the depths of despair.
Remi (protagonist)
A leviathan-monger on the slaughter docks he wants a legacy and a child with his wife.
Finding Remi’s personality:
Lives in the slums of Butcher's Bridge.
Where did you grow up? Growin' up ain' easy on the underside of the Bridge.
Who took care of you? It was jus' me Pa, a Slaughter Dockah like his Pa before him.
When you were a child, who did you love? Ah I ain' thought of the fiery beauty of Maeve in a monger-year, I thin' she feel in the waterways... Res' 'er soul.
Who acted as a mentor? Me Pa taugh’ me everthin’ ‘e knew ‘bout workin’ The Docks. ‘E coul’ cut a beast down in ‘alf the time as the next bloke.
Who did you trust? The Slums you can trust yourself ‘n only yourself. Ye mam would sell yeh for a price.
Who betrayed your trust? Tha’ be ma Pa, ‘e lef’ ‘n never looked back.
Who hurt you? How? Me wife, I don’ thin’ I can forget she can’t carry ma legacy.
Did you seek vengeance or are you still trying to please them? A man’s word is what ‘e got in this life, can’t break no bond… Can’t be less a man.
Is there anyone in your life who you currently trust? Nah further than I can toss ‘em.
Is there anyone who you currently love? Ma wife.
Is there anyone who you currently need? How do you feel about this need? Ma son, ‘e would follow in ma footsteps, grow to be a great man… ‘n it hurts, jus’ make it stop.
Do you have any friends? A lover? Ma wife, Mollee.
Who do you desire to protect? Ma legacy fer when I’m gone.
Who is your greatest hero? Ma Pa.
Who is your nemesis? Bilgewatah.
Do you have a pet? What kind? Closest thing ‘d be one them scuttle mutts. Filth bags.
Do you have a hobby? What do you do in your spare time for enjoyment?
‘Take it! You got her, my debt is paid!’
As much as I love an appetizer, ill be coming back for you tasty morsel later.
Rough idea:
The story follows Remi and a chance Encounter with Tahm Kench in the slums of Bilgewater. Remi Confesses to Tahm that he wants a Legacy left in the world for when he's gone. Tahm teases dazzle and wonder to Remi who makes the deal for a child. 9 months later Remi's wife is birthing their child, she dies in childbirth. Remi hits the bottle hard that night and Tahm comes to take his soul, a misstep and a slip and Remi is in Tahm's mouth devoured by The River King. It ends with Tahm leaving the child on an orphanage doorstep saying he'll be back for the kid later
Beat Sheet:
Establish Bilgewater slums late night under the Butcher's bridge, Remi, 2 bits, and his monger knife (this is the theme of legacy we weave in) offer his last two bits to nothing for the health of his wife.
Remi goes home, past the bars, the gambling dens, the brothels, past temptation but not past a small cart of trinkets. Manned by Tahm Kench.
They talk Tahm shares the legacies of the trinkets. Shurima, Ionia, handle city, the void. A fertility ward from the lands of the Vastaya. Offering his monger knife and two bits but Tahm wants more, a life for the life. Something to quench the hunger. And Remi agrees.
Tahm bids him goodbye and fades into the shadows.
9 months later, Remi’s wife dies in childbirth. Tahm has come to collect.
Remi racked with guilt hits the bottle. The more he drinks the more the home he built falls away. Darkness falls and Tahm pays his respects to his departed wife.
Tahm talks the man into handing over his child then devours Remi in a single bite. He places the two bits on his wife’s eye and leaves with the child
He places the child on an orphanage doorstep. Marking him with his tongue. Mentioning how he wants her as a full meal not a morsel of an appetizer. I’ll see you later, child
[12-20-17] After not feeling satisfied with my first take on the beat sheet, inspiration came from reading a writing prompt about waking up and being stuck in the creepiest of silences ever. This made me visualize the story in a whole new way. I decided to abandon the Bildgewater story and the structure of Kench making the deal. It felt lackluster and I was now more interested in the horroresque act of Kench collecting his debt.
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DEVOUR
[Draft 2]
A creeping miasma of chilled despair engulfed the blacked out shacks on the ends of Mudtown. Rows of jagged little rooftops illuminated by the moon’s light of the tiny city on the eastern shores. Nothing exciting happened here, occasionally a ship would dock from Bilgewater unload supplies and become hull heavy with trade, that’s about it. The fishmongers and farmers alike were fast asleep in the dark hours of the morning oblivious to the broad hulking silhouette entering the foggy city.
The shadows of the figure danced along walls of desolate shacks to the cobbled stone, finally they descended across a single rundown door. Long fishlike lips curled into a gargantuan smile while stubby ringed fingers grasped the knob. Inside the locks clicked quietly while they rattled and turned slowly. Click. With a creak as the shadow pushed the door open fog danced into the dank room crawling and creeping in.
Alone in a bed a fishmonger gasped for air his eyes snapping open. He felt a lukewarm dampness glean on his forehead as the room came into darkened focus. He drew his hand up but it didn’t move, a cool panic flooding over him as he became aware of his entire immobile body. His breathing was harsh and jagged while his eyes were screamed for help, yet his voice couldn’t. Internally his mind jumped from scenario to scenario searching for a reason why, even a way out! The thoughts trickled to nothingness leaving the fishmonger to silence. Ah yes the silence... a eerie and utterly unfamiliar silence.
“Come on,” The fishmonger’s thoughts willed to himself. “Jus’ move yeh finger. Jus’ move anythin’.” His teeth were clenched yet his body wouldn’t move. Nothing. Not an inch.
“Jus’ get up!” Still his body didn’t listen. There was a strike of tinder, blue flame sparked into life. The fishmonger’s nostrils filled with a sour burning he could taste in the back of his throat. The vein in his forehead pulsed while he struggled to move any part of his body. “No. Not now.” Bloodshot eyes stretched to the furthest corners of his sockets scanning the room, straining as they fell upon the hulking shadowed outline of a crib in the corner.
The ember orange glow off a wooden carved pipe hanging from the large crooked maw of the wayward demon, his deepest-most-abysmal fear, Tahm Kench. The man’s eyes took in The River King, from that damning smile to his stubby fingers bound in tarnished rings that clicked on the wood of a child’s crib, the fishmonger knew he was here to collect. Tahm Kench slowly rocked the crib back and forth, his beady black eyes fixed straight into the eyes of the paralyzed man for a moment only to be broken by that gigantic mouth breaking into a dangerous grin.
With a dry throat and cracked lips his words clawed their way out, “I-I paid my debt, Kench.” The silence was broken but the foreboding threat remained. The moment was lost in time… Tahm Kench’s fat fingers held his belly and The River King’s bellowing laugh shook the window panes. Yet the infant in the crib barely stirred with the slightest of rustles.
‘I say, if you have paid your debt why am I still here to collect?” Tahm Kench posed this quandary to the frozen man. Ceremoniously he leaned over the crib and scooped the child into his arms. She remained still, silent, and asleep. The fishmonger refused to blink defying the demon to take child, every bit of his being was howling with white hot anger willing his body to move, to do anything. Yet nothing happened. Nothing moved.
The Demon towered over the unmoving man with child in hand. “A deal is a deal, a life for a life.” He pulled a brass watch from one of his two coats and popped it open to a cacophony of hextech mechanics “Do you have any last words?” He shut the watch with a deafening click.
The man’s throat was unstuck, yet his body didn’t yield. His bulging eyes swelling with tears. “My wife… Her life…” Kench’s belly swelled with a booming chuckle and a charming smile that Remi couldn’t help but take as pity, “Her life was not yours to deal for she was a mere consequence to a happenstance of circumstance. As to say a broken egg to our omelette. Meaning the debt is unsettled, and it has yet to be paid... With interest of course.” The tears ran down Remi’s cheeks as he fixed his eyes on the bundle that was his child. The final memory of the wife that passed. A cool Finger ran along his cheek, Tahm smeared the tear as he pulled it to his wide set mouth, sampling it like you would a stew.
“Now that is delectable!” Was the final exclamation that Remi heard while he squeezed his eyelids shut unable to flee from The River King’s mouth as he ravenously tore into his paralyzed meal.
The screams of horror pierced the night falling to the void of the night. The hulking figure stepped out into the boggy night. Tahm devoured the last bits of marrow from a shattered femur then tossed it through the air and it clattered on the worn stone of the path. A small cooing came from the rags in his bulbous arm. The River King’s beady eyes watched as the child reached from the bundle grabbing one of his mustache like barbels hanging from his face. Tiny fingers tugged at the golden band binding it, “Oh-ho! Already developing dangerously exquisite tastes.” Kench placed the bundle meticulously on the steps of a small darkened shack. The blue eyes of the child looked to the Demon “just remember kid, everything comes at a price. So if we ever should strike a bargain on crossed paths I’ll will surely still come to collect.” Kench slid his tiny top hat off of his enormous head and gave a low theatrical bow then vanished in the swirling miasma.
[12-28-2018] After getting the second draft finished which was a word one rewrite I found myself happier with the format and the structure. The next pass will be editing redundant words, making cohesive passages, and making a visual structure of the paragraphs.
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Devour
[Draft 2.b]
A creeping miasma of chilled despair engulfed the darkened shacks at the ends of Mudtown City Limits. Rows of jagged rooftops were illuminated by the moon’s light, brightening the tiny city on the eastern shores more than the city lights. Nothing exciting happened in Mudtown aside from the occasional ship from Bilgewater, ready to unload supplies and fill it’s depths with more items to trade elsewhere. The fishmongers and farmers were fast asleep in the late hours of the morning, oblivious to the broad hulking silhouette entering the fog filled city.
The shadow of the figure danced along walls of each desolate shack and the cobbled stone alike, finally ending a single rundown door. Long fishlike lips curled into a gargantuan smile while stubby ringed fingers grasped the knob, turning it slightly with a creak. Inside the locks clicked quietly while they rattled and turned slowly.
Click.
The shadow pushed the door open as fog spilled into the dank room crawling and creeping further with each lumbered footstep forward.
Alone in a bed a fishmonger gasped for air as his eyes snapped open in an instant. He felt a lukewarm glean on his forehead as the room came into focus. The man drew his hand up but it didn’t move. An almost calming panic flooding over him when he realized he couldn’t move.
His breathing was harsh, jagged, and rushed and his eyes were screaming for help; yet his voice couldn’t make a sound. Internally his mind jumped from scenario to scenario searching for a reason why, or maybe how. He desperately wanted a way out, but somehow knew there wouldn’t be one.
Those thoughts trickled to nothingness leaving the fishmonger’s mind silent. That almost numbing silence... a eerie and engulfing silence.
“Come on,” The fishmonger’s thoughts begged for action. “Jus’ move yeh finger. Jus’ move anythin’.” his teeth were clenched tightly together as he fight against whatever invisible force bound him to his bed, yet his body didn’t move an inch.
“Jus’ get up!”
But still his body didn’t listen.
Out of the corner of his eye he watched a strike of tinder spark into life, lighting the area for a moment in a dull blue flame. The fishmonger’s nostrils filled with the sour burning smell he knew well. It was so thick that he could taste it in the back of his throat like tar. The vein in his forehead pulsed as he struggled to move any part of his body, but failed again miserably.
Bloodshot eyes stretched from the furthest corners of his sockets, scanning the room as he strained his eyes further. Finally they fell upon a dark shadowed outline in the corner of the room, just at the base of a crib. “No. Not now...”
The ember orange glow shone off a wooden carved pipe that hang almost lazily from the large crooked maw of the wayward demon, Tahm Kench. The man’s eyes took in The River King-- from that damning smile to his stubby fingers bound in tarnished rings. Each finger rising one by one, clicking the wood of a child’s crib to no end, and the fishmonger knew without a doubt why Tahm was here.
To collect a debt he was owed.
Tahm Kench slowly rocked the crib back and forth, his beady black eyes fixed to the paralyzed man for just a moment before that gigantic mouth spread into a sinister grin.
With a dry throat, and cracked lips his words clawed their way out, “I-I paid my debt, Kench.”
The silence had finally been broken, but the foreboding threat had not. The moment he was suspended in was lost in time… Tahm Kench’s fat fingers held his belly softly, his hand rubbing in fine circles as his wide mouth bellowed out a laugh powerful enough to shake the windows in their pane.
Yet the infant barely stirred.
‘I say then... if you have paid your debt in full, why is it I am here to collect?” Tahm Kench posed this quandary to the frozen man. Ceremoniously he leaned over the crib and scooped the child into his arms. She remained still, silent, and fast asleep in his hands, appearing no larger than a loaf of bread in the mostorous arms.
The fishmonger refused to blink as he watch Tahm rock side to side, his eyes never leaving the child. He fought and struggled to no end within the prison of his skin, every fiber of his being howled with a burning anger. He begged for his body to just move... to do anything.
Yet nothing happened.
The demon towered over the unmoving man with child in hand, finally peeling his eyes from it to the man. “A deal is a deal, is it not? A life for a life.” he pulled a brass watch from one of his two coat pocket, and popped it open to a cacophony of hextech mechanics. “I really should be going… Do you have any last words?”
The moment he shut the watch with a deafening click, the man’s words were finally granted the freedom they so desperately desired; yet his body didn’t move. His bulging eyes swelled to the brim with tears, his lip quivering when he spoke. “My wife… Her life…”
Kench’s belly swelled with a booming chuckle, rocking the sleeping infant softly with each billow of his chest as a charming smile spread. He’d spent enough time as a fishmonger to know that look, and he knew it well. It was pity.
“Her life was not yours to make a deal with. For she was a mere consequence to a happenstance of circumstance… The debt is still unsettled, I’m afraid--with interest, of course.”
The tears ran down the man’s cheeks as he fixed his eyes on the bundle that was his child... The final memory of the wife passed quickly by his eyes as a cool finger ran along his cheek. Tahm smeared the tear away, pulling it to his wide set mouth, sampling it like you would a stew.
“Now that is just delectable!” Tahm exclamation before letting a short laugh release.
The man knew this was it… the end, and even though he’d always thought this debt paid there had been a part of him that always knew… And now, he squeezed his eyelids shut almost accepting his fate as The River King’s mouth tore into him like a five course meal.
His screams of horror pierced the night like hot daggers, falling to the void of the night with agony. The hulking figure stepped out into the boggy night when he was finished, pulling the last bits of marrow from a shattered femur to his long thin lips, sucking it dry with a slurp. When he’d got every last big he could, he tossed it lazily to the side, the crescendo of clattered bone echoing down the stone path he walk.
A small cooing came from the rags in his bulbous arm, the first noise the child had made since he found it... The River King’s beady eyes watched as the child reached from the bundle of blankets to grab his mustache like barbels hanging from his face.
Tiny fingers tugged at the golden band binding it playfully, and to his surprise the child giggled. “Oh-ho! Already developing dangerously exquisite tastes, I see.” Kench placed the bundle meticulously on the steps of a small darkened shack a couple paces away.
The blue eyes of the child looked to the demon as if somehow it understood. “Just remember kid, everything comes at a price... So if we ever should strike a bargain, just know… I will always collect.” Kench slid his almost ridiculously tiny top hat from his enormous head, offering a low theatrical bow before whisking his two-coats in the fog as he vanished in the dead of night.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------[1-11-18]
I feel satisfied with this version of the story. A version close to this will be what I submit.
Replies
Devour
[Final Draft]
A creeping miasma of chilled despair engulfed the darkened shacks at the ends of Mudtown City Limits. Rows of jagged rooftops were illuminated by the moon’s light, brightening the tiny city on the eastern shores more than the city lights. Nothing exciting happened in Mudtown aside from the occasional ship from Bilgewater, ready to unload supplies and fill its depths with more items to trade elsewhere. The fishmongers and farmers were fast asleep in the late hours of the morning, oblivious to the broad hulking silhouette entering the filled filled city.
The shadow of the figure danced along walls of each desolate shack and the cobbled stone alike, finally ending a single rundown door. Long fishlike lips curled into a gargantuan smile while stubby ringed fingers grasped the knob, turning it slightly with a creak. Inside the locks clicked quietly while they rattled and turned slowly.
Click.
The shadow pushed the door open as fog spilled into the dank room crawling and creeping further with each lumbered footstep forward.
Alone in a bed, a fishmonger gasped for air as his eyes snapped open in an instant. He felt a lukewarm glean on his forehead as the room came into focus. The man drew his hand up but it didn’t move. An almost calming panic flooding over him when he realized he couldn’t move.
His breathing was harsh, jagged, and rushed and his eyes were screaming for help; yet his voice couldn’t make a sound. Internally his mind jumped from scenario to scenario searching for a reason why, or maybe how. He desperately wanted a way out, but somehow knew there wouldn’t be one.
Those thoughts trickled to nothingness leaving the fishmonger’s mind silent. That almost numbing silence... a eerie and engulfing silence.
“Come on,” The fishmonger’s thoughts begged for action. “Jus’ move yeh finger. Jus’ move anythin’.” his teeth were clenched tightly together as he fights against whatever invisible force bound him to his bed, yet his body didn’t move an inch.
“Jus’ get up!”
But, still his body didn’t listen.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched a strike of tinder spark into life, lighting the area for a moment in a dull blue flame. The fishmonger’s nostrils filled with the sour burning smell he knew well. It was so thick that he could taste it in the back of his throat like tar. The vein in his forehead pulsed as he struggled to move any part of his body, but failed again miserably.
Bloodshot eyes stretched from the furthest corners of his sockets, scanning the room as he strained his eyes further. Finally, they fell upon a dark shadowed outline in the corner of the room, just at the base of a crib. “No. Not now...”
The ember orange glow shone off a wooden carved pipe that hangs almost lazily from the largely crooked maw of the wayward demon, Tahm Kench. The man’s eyes took in The River King-- from that damning smile to his stubby fingers bound in tarnished rings. Each finger rising one by one, clicking the wood of a child’s crib to no end, and the fishmonger knew without a doubt why Tahm was here.
To collect a debt he was owed.
Tahm Kench slowly rocked the crib back and forth, his beady black eyes fixed to the paralyzed man for just a moment before that gigantic mouth spread into a sinister grin.
With a dry throat, and cracked lips his words clawed their way out, “I-I paid my debt, Kench.”
The silence had finally been broken, but the foreboding threat had not. The moment he was suspended in, was lost in time… Tahm Kench’s fat fingers held his belly softly, his hand rubbing fine circles as his wide mouth bellowed out a laugh powerful enough to shake the windows in their pane.
Yet the infant barely stirred.
‘I say then... if you have paid your debt in full, why is it I am here to collect?” Tahm Kench posed this quandary to the frozen man. Ceremoniously he leaned over the crib and scooped the child into his arms. She remained still, silent, and fast asleep in his hands, appearing no larger than a loaf of bread in the mostorous arms.
The fishmonger refused to blink as he watches Tahm rock side to side, his eyes never leaving the child. He fought and struggled to no end within the prison of his skin, every fiber of his being howled with a burning anger. He begged for his body to just move... to do anything.
Yet nothing happened.
The demon towered over the unmoving man with the child in hand, finally peeling his eyes from it to the man. “A deal is a deal, is it not? A life for a life.” he pulled a brass watch from one of his two coat pocket, and popped it open to a cacophony of hextech mechanics. “I really should be going… Do you have any last words?”
The moment he shut the watch with a deafening click, the man’s words were finally granted the freedom they so desperately desired; yet his body didn’t move. His bulging eyes swelled to the brim with tears, his lip quivering when he spoke. “My wife… Her life…”
Kench’s belly swelled with a booming chuckle, rocking the sleeping infant softly with each billow of his chest as a charming smile spread. He’d spent enough time as a fishmonger to know that look, and he knew it well. It was a pity.
“Her life was not yours to make a deal with. For she was a mere consequence to a happenstance of circumstance… The debt is still unsettled, I’m afraid--with interest, of course.”
The tears ran down the man’s cheeks as he fixed his eyes on the bundle that was his child... The final memory of the wife passed quickly by his eyes as a cool finger ran along his cheek. Tahm smeared the tear away, pulling it to his wide set mouth, sampling it like you would a stew.
“Now that is just delectable!” Tahm exclamation before letting a short laugh release.
The man knew this was it… the end, and even though he’d always thought this debt paid there had been a part of him that always knew… And now, he squeezed his eyelids shut almost accepting his fate as The River King’s mouth tore into him like a five-course meal.
His screams of horror pierced the night like hot daggers, falling to the void of the night with agony. The hulking figure stepped out into the boggy night when he was finished, pulling the last bits of marrow from a shattered femur to his long thin lips, sucking it dry with a slurp. When he’d got every last big he could, he tossed it lazily to the side, the crescendo of clattered bone echoing down the stone path he walks.
A small cooing came from the rags in his bulbous arm, the first noise the child had made since he found it... The River King’s beady eyes watched as the child reached from the bundle of blankets to grab his mustache like barbels hanging from his face.
Tiny fingers tugged at the golden band binding it playfully, and to his surprise the child giggled. “Oh-ho! Already developing dangerously exquisite tastes, I see.” Kench placed the bundle meticulously on the steps of a small darkened shack a couple paces away.
The blue eyes of the child looked at the demon as if somehow it understood. “Just remember kid, everything comes at a price... So if we ever should strike a bargain, just know… I will always collect.” Kench slid his almost ridiculously tiny top hat from his enormous head, offering a low theatrical bow before whisking his two-coats in the fog as he vanished in the dead of night.