In the infamous council building of Piltover, a disabled Zaunite man had worked his way up from the bottom and earned a title as a councilor. His name was Viktor, no last name—Just Viktor. Councilor Viktor was said to be cold, his presence looming over those around him like a cloud of heavy fog. The other councilors were not fond of him much; they believed that he was too negative. Whether it be a small complaint about his leg, or a disapproving argument during a debate, they all collectively agreed behind Viktor’s back that he was becoming a thorn in their sides.

The problem with this was that they had no clue how to resolve Viktor’s negative attitude. He didn’t respond to food or partying like the others did… They’d have to find something, or someone, to come reel him in.