To My Dearest Gertrude,
My grandfather has told me the tales of old. Even his grandfather has never seen the mythical Caitlyn played in the fields of justice, though he has heard of the great maiden's power: An attack range as far as the infinite horizon, a trap as deadly as a Peruvian Puff Pepper, and a hat as mad as the Hatter himself.
We are in desperate times, and in need of a new hero. Perhaps humanity will one day find a niche of luck and see the fair lady for themselves. In this League of Legends, the legend herself remains in the abyss of the unknown.
Gertrude, I am afraid my letter must come to an end, as shall humanity. The only savior for us in this bitter cold may come, or she may not. I am not a man to gamble, especially of myths. I can however, hope that Lady Caitlyn saves us from the approaching terror of white. In my final words, I may never see you again Gertrude, but just know; Winter is coming.
Harold A. McHarrington IV