ALL IVERN SKINS 2022 | Including Old God Ivern
All Ivern skins in one skin spotlight for 2022. In this skin spotlight you can see all the Ivern skins which were released till Old God Ivern
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Timestamps:
00:00 Old God Ivern Skin
02:38 Dunkmaster Ivern Skin
05:17 Candy King Ivern Skin
07:55 Ivern Champion
Ivern Bramblefoot, known to many as the Green Father, is a peculiar half man, half tree who roams Runeterra’s forests, cultivating life everywhere he goes. He knows the secrets of the natural world, and holds deep friendships with all things that grow, fly, and scuttle. Ivern wanders the wilderness, imparting strange wisdom to any he meets, enriching the forests, and occasionally entrusting loose-lipped butterflies with his secrets.
In the early days of the Freljord, Ivern was a fierce warrior with an iron will and unflinching resolve. However, he was powerless when the Iceborn rose to prominence and looked down upon Ivern and his kind as hapless mortals who dared challenge their will. He plotted with his kinsmen to overthrow their sorcerous masters. Ivern the Cruel and the battle-hardened battalion under his command set sail from the frozen harbors of Frostguard for a faraway land that, according to legend, was the source of all magic. If Ivern could seize such a power for his own, then he could break the Iceborn. As the fleet crested the horizon, they sailed out of memory and into myth, for they were never seen again, and faded from Freljordian history like tracks in the winter’s snow.
The sea, in abject rejection of their noble goals, fell on them with waves like crushing jaws, and shook the resolve of even the heartiest of men. Ivern, after putting many mutinous cowards to the sword, landed his armada on the shores of Ionia and mercilessly cut down the native resistance. The Ionians surrendered, and led the Freljordians to a sacred grove known as Omikayalan, the Heart of the World. Most of Ivern’s men thought this a gift to the conquerors, a sign of loyalty. But it was there, in that strange and verdant garden, where they met the fiercest resistance.
A mysterious new foe arose. Chimeric beings, half human, half animal, stalked the dwindling battalion, relentlessly cutting down the would-be conquerors. Undeterred, Ivern pressed on until the remnants of his army, battered and few, discovered what the Ionians held so sacred: the God-Willow, a massive tree, dripping with long gossamer leaves that shimmered with golden-green light. While his men were being slaughtered in a final assault, Ivern stood transfixed by the mystical tree. Seeking to shatter the resolve of his foes, he gripped his battle-axe, and swung at the tree with the force of ten men. He felt no impact. He felt nothing. There was only blinding light when he felled the God-Willow and extinguished all the lifeforce within it.
What happened next was even stranger—his hands fused and became one with the battle-axe and God-Willow’s hardwood. His limbs grew in length, and became knotty and rough to the touch. He stood helpless as the rest of his body followed suit. Within moments, he was ten feet tall, staring down over a field of his slain comrades. He could not feel his heart pumping, but he was awake and aware.
He heard a voice deep inside him. “Watch,” it said.
In what felt like seconds, the bodies decayed under legions of colorful mushrooms and buzzing insects. Flesh fed the carrion birds and wolves alike. Bones rotted into fertile soil, and seeds from fruit eaten by the conquerors budded and sprouted into trees with fruit of their own. Hills rose and fell, like lungs gently filling with breath. Leaves and petals pulsed like colorful hearts. From the death that surrounded him, life exploded forth in ways too numerous to believe.
Never had Ivern beheld such beauty. Life, in all its forms, was tangled together like an impossible knot that didn’t want to be untied. He reflected on the mistakes he’d made, the cruelty he’d visited on others, and felt an overwhelming sense of sorrow.
He wept, and dewdrop tears sprang up on the bark and leaves that now covered his newly tree like body. Am I now becoming the God-Willow? he wondered.
Then the voice inside Ivern told him something new. “Listen,” it said. So he did.
At first, he heard nothing. Then: the whimpers of countless beasts, the bawling of rivers, the howling of trees and the dripping tears of moss. They lamented the God-Willow’s death in a symphony of mourning. Remorse washed over Ivern, and he cried out for forgiveness. A tiny squirrel snuggled at his legs. He felt the gaze of nearby animals. Plants reached out for him with their roots. Nature’s gaze fixed on him, and he felt the seeping warmth of forgiveness.
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