EZREAL

THE PRODIGAL EXPLORER

Born and raised in a wealthy neighborhood of Piltover, Ezreal was always a curious
child. His parents were renowned archaeologists, so he became used to their long
absences from the family home, often fantasizing about joining them on their travels.
He loved hearing tales of high adventure, and shared their desire to fill in the blank
spaces on every map.

He was often left in the care of his uncle, the esteemed Professor Lymere. The
professor did not enjoy having to wrangle such a rash and unruly child, and assigned
the strictest tutors to teach him subjects including advanced cartography, hextech
mechanics, and the ancient histories of Runeterra. But the boy had a knack for
simply absorbing information, and found studying a waste of time. He passed
assessments easily, with little or no preparation, infuriating his uncle and giving
himself more time to roam the university grounds. Ezreal took great pleasure in
evading the campus wardens, navigating the tunnels beneath the lecture halls as
easily as the library rooftops. He even practiced lockpicking, sneaking into his
teachers’ offices and rearranging their belongings for his own amusement.

Whenever Ezreal’s parents returned to Piltover, his father in particular would tell him
all they had seen, and their plans for future expeditions—none more ambitious and
secretive than the search for the lost tomb of Ne’Zuk, a Shuriman tyrant who was said
to be able to jump instantly from one place to another. If Ezreal’s father could learn
whatever sorcery Ne’Zuk had possessed, he joked that wherever he was traveling, he
would simply drop into Piltover for dinner with his son each night.

As the boy grew older, the time between his parents’ visits grew longer until, one
year, they did not return at all. Professor Lymere tearfully admitted that they had
most likely perished, somewhere out in the desert.

But Ezreal could not accept that. They had been too careful in their preparations.
They must still be out there, somewhere…
Abandoning his reluctant studies, the budding explorer would strike out on his own.
He knew, if he was ever to find his mother and father, he had to start with the final
resting place of Ne’Zuk. He spent weeks secretly gathering supplies from the
university—celestial diagrams, translations of runic sigils, guides on the burial rites of
Shurima, and a pair of protective goggles. Leaving a note of farewell for his uncle, he
snuck onto a supply ship bound for Nashramae.

Following his mother’s meticulous field notes, he crossed the Great Sai with merchant
caravans heading south. For many months, he delved into cavernous ruins beneath the
shifting sands, relishing the freedom of the unknown, facing unspeakable horrors that
guarded hidden chambers. With each step, Ezreal imagined himself following his
parents’ path, drawing ever closer to solving the mystery of their disappearance.

Finally, he managed what they evidently had not. Beneath the newer mausoleum of
some unnamed emperor, he uncovered the tomb of Ne’Zuk.

The great sarcophagus lay empty, save for a gleaming bronze gauntlet, with a bright,
crystalline matrix at its center. As soon as Ezreal laid his hands upon it, the tomb
itself seemed to turn upon him, with cunningly wrought traps and wards laid down
thousands of years ago. With scarcely a thought, he donned the gauntlet and blasted
his way through, even teleporting the last hundred yards back to the hidden entrance
before the whole structure collapsed in a plume of sand and masonry dust.

Breathing hard, Ezreal looked down at the gauntlet as it hummed along with his
heartbeat. He could feel it siphoning and amplifying his own essence. This, he
realized, was a fearsome weapon of a previous age. A weapon fit for a god-warrior of
Shurima, and the perfect tool for an explorer.

Soon after returning to Piltover, Ezreal found himself bounding from adventure to
adventure. From lost cities to mystical temples, his nose for treasure-seeking led him
to places most university professors could only read about on maps, and his
reputation began to grow. Naturally, to Ezreal’s mind, these tales rarely conveyed the
true scope and scale of his exploits… but they did give him an idea. If he could make a
name for himself as the greatest adventurer in the world, then his parents would
surely return, and seek him out in person.

From the untamed borders of Noxus and Demacia, to the seedy depths of Zaun, and
the frozen wilderness of the Freljord—Ezreal chases fame and glory, uncovering long-
lost artifacts and solving the riddles of history. While some may dispute the details of
his anecdotes, or call his methods into question, he never answers his critics.

After all, they’re clearly just jealous.