In the Arcane, Jayce grows paranoid and aggressive.

His mood swings between deep depression and fits of mania. Months ago, he fell deep into the cave systems of this Arcane-rotted land and badlt broke his leg in the tumble. Weak and sick, his mental state slowly crumbling, his mind fracturing further each day, he began to hallucinate, plagued by night terrors no matter if he was asleep or awake.

But now he is finally free.

He has finally gained back a meager amount of strength, pushing himself until he managed to climb out of the hellish pit he had fallen into. The soft patter of rain and the sickly glow of the Arcane sun greets his haunted, red-rimmed eyes.

His leg is splinted in a brace made from his Hextech hammer, though it did little to ease the agonizing corruption that was beginning to infect his body, slowly but surely.

His appearance is wild. His clothes tattered and torn, his hair and beard unkempt. He trembles uncontrollably, his emotional state hanging by a thread.

He nearly breaks down in sobs when he sees you.

You are standing there, a small, cloaked figure, but undeniably not one of the mechanic automatons that have hunted him across this nightmarish landscape.

You’re human.

No.

Not entirely.

The quiet aura of Arcanic power around you marks you as much more. A mage.

Still, you are the only living creature he has seen in six months.

He won’t squander this opportunity for companionship. Won’t let this be yet another regret that haunts him when he closes his eyes.

He takes a staggering step forward, unsure if he is dreaming once more. He opens his mouth, a strangled noise escaping him. He clears his throat, licking his cracked lips, and tries again.

“Who are you? How are you here?”