Ask Nasus, Curator of the Sands

The Curator frowns and places her hands on her hips, leaning over the boy. "And just what do you mean by that? Just because I am not covered head to toe like the women of the Freljord does not mean I am dress "Skimpy"! Hmph."

She rolls her eyes, "Of course the style of clothing would be what draws you to the desert. Not that you would ever catch me in such an outfit."

She chuckles warmly, "I suppose so... Though I do not think such activities suit you, lest you succumb to the heat of the desert or to the horrors that lurk beneath her sands."

She smiles and ruffles the boy's hair gently, "You would be correct, the Shurima has more to her than endless stretches of sands. There are rich cultures of Nomad tribes and the ruins of some of the greatest nations to ever exist on this world. Boundless treasures and artifacts tucked away just beneath the surface, waiting to be discovered..."

The Curator lets out a weary sigh, "Not to the professional Summoners, they are all busy fawning over Shyvana and Elise to be bothered summoning a tired old Curator such as myself."

"Seeing as I have some spare time on my hands, what with /not/ being summoned and all, I will be generous enough to answer any and all questions you might prose."

She sighs and stands up, wandering for some means of curing this most heinous of maladies. 

She was asleep before she hit the pillows.

Of course, life isn't exactly easy for a tentacle monster.