First story, because my writing is poor.

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In the icy plateaus of the far north, Lissandra glided swiftly along on her imposing mount of ice. She scanned the area, searching for the distinct golden glow of a particularly rare medicinal herb which could cure even the most severe cases of frostbite. Though undoubtedly important, the task was basic, dull, and would usually be handed off to some nameless henchman - if not for the fact that some of the most dangerous predators known to man happened to roam this expanse frequently. It was while mulling over this very thought that Lissandra spotted movement out of the corner of her eye.

Instinctively, Lissandra raised her arms, ready to unleash a spell that would raise the ice before her miles into the sky, preventing whatever attack the still unknown figure had in mind. Before initiating such a bold move, however, she caught a full glimpse of what it was that first startled her. At first, it appeared to be a fiery yet dull humanoid figure. Upon closer inspection, Lissandra realized that it was merely Zyra, another champion in the League of Legends. Zyra's vibrant and very out-of-place appearance had caught Lissandra off guard in this landscape that was permanently awash in grey and white alone. But it wasn't only the complexion of her skin that was out of place; it was Zyra herself.

"You shouldn't stray so far from home, my dear," Lissandra started. "It gets chilly up here, and not all plants fare so well in the cold." She glanced down, gesturing vaguely to a group of dying brush to her left.

Zyra approached briskly, arms wrapped around herself as one does when they're freezing. "Lissandra, I need your help." The desperation in her voice was evident, but Lissandra grew wary. Illusions and mirages were dirty tricks that her enemies were not above using. Just before Lissandra could warn Zyra to back off, she halted her approach. "There are..." her voice wavered, "The void creatures have been after me. I need to... I mean, they're trying to get m-"

Lissandra took a step back, preparing the spell she had in mind earlier. Zyra was never this 'to the point' in the few conversations they'd had. While Zyra fumbled on her words, Lissandra interrupted, "State your business quickly. I have my own dealings here, you know."

Zyra, shivering from the now-beginning snowfall, cleared her throat and made herself more audible. "I need you to... help protect me - in ice, if you would just..." She glanced down, shaking her head. "I have to be hidden. Does your magic work such that I'll be safely..."

Lissandra scoffed at the woman's incompetency to produce her demands vocally. She thought it obvious that this was some ridiculous prank now. "No. I cannot aid you in your... escape from society, or whichever deluded plans you've conjured," she spat harshly. After a short thought, and seeing the shocked reaction on Zyra's face, she continued, "The cold would do a fine job in taking your life, might I add. A better one than it is doing now. I suggest you start the walk back from whence you came."

Though apparently initially taken aback, Zyra's expression switched now to anger. "I suggest you do the same," she growled, her voice thick with malice. Lissandra was now the one taken aback, noting these previously unseen new sides to Zyra. "Though I don't suppose you will ever be walking again, will you?"

Lissandra stared at the woman opposite her, trying to hide her shock. That was something that had only been known by herself, her closest aides, and the head of the League of Legends. "That" being the reason Lissandra had to use her mount, a dais of ice. The reason she donned such a thick yet impractical set of armor. Lissandra had lost her legs all the way up to her hips in a battle five years prior. She used the mount and her armor to hide this thing she had been so ashamed of. The thought of her people knowing and judging her new physical capabilities constantly plagued Lissandra's mind. And if someone as inconspicuous and uninvolved as Zyra knew, who else knew?

Buried in these thoughts, Lissandra only caught the end of what Zyra had been saying, which turned out to be, "Okay. Go ahead now."

Before Lissandra had the opportunity to ask what she had just said, there was all of the sudden the strangely loud sound of cloth flapping in the wind, and then a burning flash of pain in her left shoulder. Jumping back, Lissandra tried raising her arms, beginning to cast the spell that would encase her in ice and consequently protect her from harm. But she could not.

Looking directly in front of her, Lissandra could see only her right arm poised for the spell. The sudden confusion caused her to spin around in panic, looking for what had just happened to her left arm. What was going on? But even before she could figure out what happened then, the same flash of pain took hold of her right shoulder, and the next thing she knew she was staring into the face of some madly smiling woman.

A pair of hands shoved roughly at Lissandra's chest, and a peculiar yet familiar clicking noise let her knew that she was being removed from her mount of ice. It was weirdly the one thought Lissandra had time to process during this attack that had taken place in less than a couple of seconds.

Her back hit the ground with a thud, and her neck craned from the resulting whiplash. Though she tried to prop herself up on her arms, she realized she yet again could not, and it had been as she feared.

Glancing to the left, Lissandra saw the distinct horned shoulders of her body armor, holding the arms that had fallen from her body. The image before her began to grow hazy, and she had enough sense still to realize she was bleeding profusely from her fresh wounds. Spending the last of her energy, she cast a spell to close her wounds, and almost felt herself fall into unconsciousness because of it. It was the sight of that same smiling woman that stole Lissandra awake. A second's-long glimpse, and she now knew who it was - Katarina.

And without the chance to ask what was going on, or to demand an explanation, Lissandra was brutally yanked by the hair and dragged along by her attacker. She needed no explanation to know that she made an ineffably massive mistake in not letting herself bleed to death there on the ice.

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After having not written properly for some time, I had some difficulties. I wasn't sure whether I should just jump into the juicy goodness or have some ridiculous exposition full of prose, and or whatever. I suppose I ended up choosing the latter. It's also been strange in that I've never written a story of this nature ;)
ehh. Feel free to continue the story, although I have had a set plotline in mind. Feedback would be appreciated.