Poppyě

ěščřžýáíéúů§ěščřžýáíéúů§ěščřžýáíéúů§ěščřžýáíéúů§ěščřžýáíéúů§While other young yordle girls played skip-step and braided wreathes out of posies, Poppy spent her youth earning calluses and grease stains in her father's armor shop. Blomgrun, her father, was Bandle City's finest smith. The only thing he loved as much as his work was his young daughter, Poppy - named for the sprightly sounds of the sparks that leapt from his ever-burning forge. He welled with pride the day she was first able to lift his trusty hammer, Whomper. Poppy immediately took to his art, demonstrating a natural gift for smithing, which Blomgrun honed with devoted instruction.ůúéíáýžřčšě§ůúéíáýžřčšě§ůúéíáýžřčšě§ůúéíáýžřčšě§ůúéíáýžřčšě

ěščřžýáíéúů§ěščřžýáíéúů§ěščřžýáíéúů§ěščřžýáíéúů§ěščřžýáíéúů§ěščřžýáíéúů§ěščřžýáíéúů§ěščřžýáíéúů§ěščřžýáíéúů§ěščřžýáíéúů§One day, a Demacian general named Florin Berell commissioned Blomgrun to craft a helm, glorious beyond comparison. Blomgrun toiled away on this project, determined to present Florin with his finest work. He let Poppy set the center jewel, entrusting her with the most important piece. When the pair finished, they departed for Demacia to deliver it in person. Word of the general's order, however, was leaked to the Noxian High Command, and two Noxian assassins were dispatched to intercept the delivery. Blomgrun was able to occupy the assassins long enough for Poppy to escape with the prized helm. She watched helplessly from the brush as her father was slain. Instead of fleeing home, she carried the helm the rest of the way to Demacia alone. She refused payment for it, saying that no amount would compensate for her father's life. Instead, she offered it as a gift, honoring her father's final intentions. Florin saw the grim determination behind the tears in her eyes, and requested that the leadership of Bandle City appoint Poppy as the yordle ambassador to Demacia. Soon after, seeking to crush Noxus with her father's hammer, Poppy volunteered for the League of Legends.ůúéíáýžřčšě§ůúéíáýžřčšě§ůúéíáýžřčšě§ůúéíáýžřčšě§ůúéíáýžřčšě§ůúéíáýžřčšě§ůúéíáýžřčšě§ůúéíáýžřčšě§ůúéíáýžřčšě§ůúéíáýžřčšě

ěščřžýPoppy may be small, but Whomper - or her will - is not.žřčšě