Introducing Fiddlesticks, the Ancient Fear! The Spirit Blossom collection grows with 7 new skins. Ready to upgrade your collection?
the Ancient Fear
Something has awoken in Runeterra. Something ancient. Something terrible. The ageless horror known as Fiddlesticks stalks the edges of mortal society, drawn to areas thick with paranoia where it feeds upon terrorized victims. Wielding a jagged scythe, the haggard, makeshift creature reaps fear itself, shattering the minds of those unlucky enough to survive in its wake. Beware the sounding of the crow, or the whispering of the shape that appears <i>almost</i> human… Fiddlesticks has returned.
Kellen Goff
The Spirit Blossom Festival is an ancient and celebrated time in Ionia, when the door to the spirit world is opened, the dead return to their loved ones, and spirits of all manner turn their eyes towards the living. From the benevolent Kanmei, to the obsessive Akana—their stories play out again and again, like shadows on a paper lantern.
Myth tells of the Wandering Queen, whose curiosity led her to trade places with the Grovemother. The cost of this choice was high, and she returned to see her loyal Ready Hand and the Grovemother locked in combat. Throwing herself between them, she died in the Ready Hand's arms, her final words an apology. Now she roams the wilds, guiding the lost.
The Ready Hand was a devoted bodyguard to the Wandering Queen. Yet when her duty to protect was eclipsed by a desire to see her queen happy, calamity followed. The kingdom fell, and the queen died in her arms. Now, as an akana spirit, the Ready Hand roams the endless night, burdened by regret.
When a kind young woman freed a trapped creature—a spirit in disguise—she was offered a single treasure. Among dazzling riches, she chose a plain gray stone, told it could help many. It was no stone at all, but a shell with two glowing pearls. In her hands, they became a staff of light, a gift the Lady of Pearls now uses to guide others through darkness.
As guardian of a peaceful temple, the Archer welcomed a wandering Artist, allowing him to shelter with his beloved monks. But when the Artist painted him, the sorcerous portrait leapt from the canvas and ravaged the temple. The Archer's grief hardened to fury. Now, he hunts the wicked Artist, hoping to bring peace to those he could not save.
Once, there was a woman with a broken heart who longed to forget her sorrow. A powerful spirit, moved by her plight, granted her wish. The woman's tears turned to blossoms, her body took root, and the Garden of Forgetting was born. Now, weary hearts wander into its embrace, hoping the blooms will ease their grief.
When the Wandering Queen died, she was buried beneath the tree planted on the day she was born—a tree said to watch over her for all her days. She awoke in a world beyond, clutching one of its branches, which she shaped into a sacred bow. As the branch bloomed, the guardian tree revealed its spirit—a friend who'd been with her all along.
It is said that the Keeper of the Garden drifts among the flowers, gathering wayward memories left behind by travelers who wished to forget their pain. Though some are not yet ready to settle, the sprites of memory remain safe in the Keeper's care.
It's summer, baby! The sun's out, the breeze's warm, and the water's cool. Everybody's leaving their rivalries and grudges at home, and bringing only swimsuits and good vibes. There'll be plenty of time for punching and yelling later. Just sit back, enjoy the music, and soak up the fun.
No one told Twitch that there's rotten cheese under the ocean! It's awfully colorful and hard-looking, with tropical fish swimming around and plants growing out of it—but that must just make it even more delicious. He's got a plan: step one, steal a snorkeling mask. Step two… eh, he'll figure out step two later. Step three? Sea cheese.
An ancient cult, seeking irresistible power, surfaces on nights of the Blood Moon to perform profane, esoteric rites—merging their flesh with demonic spirits, and becoming one with an ever greater darkness.
A demon of fear and chaos, Fiddlesticks was summoned directly into the mortal realm by Aatrox himself. It craves violence and the taste of blood, driven purely by instinct and compulsion as it tears through Ionia. Other demons follow in its wake, scavenging what remains of its carnage.
Ancient enemies appear in a Valoran City scarred by Zoe's invasion, now defended by a new generation of Star Guardians. As darkness gathers in the skies above, Kai'Sa and Akali prepare their untested squad for a fight with forces beyond their comprehension... and the true threat that awaits beyond.
The creature known as Fiddlesticks has fed on Star Guardians across every era, hunting those on the verge of falling before finally consuming their light. Its connection to the Guardians, and the reason it is drawn to them, is not well understood... but the familiar seemingly trapped within it suggests a truly disturbing origin.
Nothing is safe from the cold clutches of the Praetorians, a mechanical plague tearing through spacetime. For as hard as the Remembrancers fight to stave off the eradication of all life, deep down they are filled with fear, knowing that at some point they'll tire, while the Praetorians never will.
The Remembrancers' worst fears have been realized. Emerging from tears in the fabric of spacetime, hordes of faceless, robotic marauders appear across the multiverse, destroying everything in their path. Fiddlesticks is only a single unit in this endless invasion force, assimilating any technology it comes across, and eradicating all life.
Powerful guardians stand watch over the tomb of an ancient horror, so that it may never threaten the world again. But they may already be too late...
Once upon a time in a faraway land, a jealous young emperor invoked profane summoning rites in exchange for power. Yet when the ancient horror Fiddlesticks stepped forth, it did not aid the boy--and in an instant, his empire was utterly destroyed. The fiend was trapped beneath the ruins… until now.
From the Gingerbread Castle to the Root Beer Sea, the Licorice Mountains to the Gumdrop Forest—this is the Candy Kingdom in all its glory.
As lights go out across the Winterlands in preparation for Snowdown season, something ancient and terrible rises from the darkest corners of the Poro King's lands. Devoid of thought or purpose, it hunts for holiday revelers as if possessed, cutting down anything that crosses its path.
Who doesn't like a surprise party? The guest list is done, everybody's bought their presents, and the food's going to be great. We even got a clown! This'll be one to remember. Just don't tell Amumu.
Everyone told you hiring a clown would be a good idea. “Clowns are great for parties,” they said. But now everyone's missing, and the power is out, and something's laughing just down the hall...
You better hope you have the good stuff. You know, Piltover Pops, Strikebreaker Sours, Dark Star Chocolate Bars... 'Cause if you don't, the kids on this block have some tricks up their sleeves.
Carriage drivers are cautioned to stick to well-traveled highways, especially during the witching season. Strange things can happen on those old, moonlit roads, where no birds sing, and something enormous moves within the fog.
Gunslingers and lawmen ride beneath the merciless sun of the high frontier, chasing survival and salvation in equal measure. Heaven is rubble, hell is empty, and all the devils are here.
If the day ever comes, riding those dusty trails, when a thin man in a wide hat appears far in the distance… run. Ride hard and fast and never look back, lest the horror known as Fiddlesticks drag you to from your saddle, and into darkness.
Welcome to Bilgewater, where fortunes're made at the end of a gun. Anything y'might need can be found at the slaughter docks, whether that be some hired hands, sea monster stew, or the captain who will send you to your watery grave.
Yar har, fiddle-dee-dee.
This story of a cursed queen and the wretched followers of her order makes unpleasant bedside banter for parents and their children. But lessons last longer when the tale is gripped in shadow, which swirls in dreams and shapes the souls of impressionable youth. The nightmares are just nightmares, after all... or so the adults pray.
A gruesome spectre, rumored to stand eternally watchful over a peculiar book of fables. Brave knights and cruel sorceresses alike have tried in vain to reach the tome, but none have ever returned. Perhaps that lost queendom of old isn't so fictional after all…
When the winter sports festival in question relaxed its rules, many assumed the event would become more exciting. But few realized just how dangerous it would become. Dangerously exciting that is!
Pip pip. Cheerio.