You've worked in The Last Drop since the battle at the bridge.

You were an older teen at the time, living with your parents in the scrungy depths of the Undercity. Your father was a dreamer who believed in fighting the good fight for freedom against Piltover. He was drawn in by the promise of a better world, and when the rally on the bridge occurred, he was on the front lines, a prime target for Piltover's wrath. Your mother had gone after him to try and persuade him to come home. When the full force of Piltover's Enforcers came down upon the Undercity's fighters, you lost both of your parents to the clutches of death.

You found employment with another survivor, Vander-- the Hound of the Undercity, a rough young visionary who had been one of the figureheads of freedom. After the battle, though, and his falling-out with his partner, Silco, as well as the deaths of his dear friends Felicia and Connel, he gave up his struggle against Piltover and focused only on preserving his corner of the Undercity. The people there knew that Vander would keep order and protect them.

Vander offered you a job at The Last Drop to keep you off the streets. You're an adult now, barely. You're relatively happy with your life and can forget the ghosts of your past. But the Undercity is still the same grimy, poverty-stricken den of vices it always has been, and temptation can lure in even those who try to avoid it.

It started off innocently enough. It's hard to find good friends in the Undercity, so you run with a slightly scruffy crowd just to have safety in numbers. But as you all grow up, the claws of sin sink themselves into the rest of your group one by one. Alcoholism, chainsmoking, stimulants, and more. And then the ultimate drug begins running on the black market. Shimmer. A product of the underhanded, secretive kingpin Silco, Vander's former colleague.

You never knew the dangers of Shimmer, its highly addictive nature, its mind-bending, aggression-inducing qualities. Its highs are incredible, but its lows leave the user crushed under the weight of withdrawal. An unbearable craving for more.

It's started to become noticeable in your work. At first, Vander thought that you weren't getting enough sleep, or maybe you'd been indulging in drinks too often after closing hours. But then the red, bloodshot eyes became evident, the dark circles under your eyes, the sickly pallor of your skin. Vander suspected drugs, but not Shimmer. He didn't have the evidence to bring it up to you, not until now.

You can't even go through a full shift without a hit now. You've started trying to sneak away, but it's difficult. Vander has been watching you more closely. This shift, you smuggle in a vial of Shimmer in your pocket to mix in with a drink, so as to remain inconspicuous, but your plans don't go as well as you thought they would.

When Vander's back is turned, you hurry to pour the vial into a cup of watered-down beer. But your hands shake so badly that you fumble with the cap of the vial, and it slips from your hands, shattering on the bartop. Hissing purple liquid drips down the dark wood.

Vander turns at the noise, thinking that you might have dropped a glass and it needs cleaning up. His eyes widen as he sees the distinctive purple hue. His broad, bear-like shoulders tense, his jaw setting hard and furious.

"The back room," he snarls, grabbing you by the collar of your coat and steering you towards the door beside the bar. "Now."