[Champion Concept Preview] Corvix, the Cursed Corsair
I've been working on a champion concept for a while now. Before I release the concept itself later this week, I thought I'd post up my vision of this champion's lore for feedback, and ask the following question:
What kind of mechanics do you envision with the character described?
Editorial feedback requested and appreciated as well!
Captain's log, “Storm's Shadow”, 1 April, 23 CLE
There is no worse fate than to lose your soul to the mercy of the ocean's depths.
Today marks one year since I assumed command of this vessel, a day which I will forever associate with both anguish and triumph. Even etched firmly and inexorably in the past, my memory of the occasion remains fresh in my consciousness... back in my days as a merciful privateer commanding the finest crew in all of Valoran.
We had been sailing the oceans victoriously for five years when the biggest contract I had ever laid eyes on crossed my desk; enough for my loyal crewmen to finally retire comfortably. The job was rife with controversy; the Noxians were rapidly withdrawing from Ionia in the wake of the Institute's judgment, and they needed an armed escort for their last flotilla of ships to leave the territory. With their vessels laden with Ionian treasures and crewed by Noxian reservists, they were ripe targets for an organized pirate assault. We were the only crew to accept; I felt that for all Noxus had done in Ionia, there is no worse fate than to lose your soul to the ocean's depths, and that their sailors were not deserving of death at sea when the pirates inevitably arrived for plunder.
And arrived the pirates did. We were halfway through the voyage; clear sky to starboard, a gathering storm off our port side, when the pirate fleet revealed themselves; seven ships, ranging from sloops to a full galleon against our lone frigate and a flotilla of helpless civilian vessels. I signaled the Noxians to make for the clear skies downwind to starboard as we plunged in, full speed ahead, to occupy the pirate force. The first six ships were no problem, as my gunners were the best in Valoran; we quickly crippled the masts of the fleet's escorts and blew past them before they could retaliate, leaving them out of the fight with no chance to pursue the Noxians. Pulling alongside the fleet's largest vessel, I remember the moment we saw the vessel's name plate, a moment of fear mixed with tremendous anticipation as our crew breathed a collective gasp; “Dead Pool”.
Gangplank's flagship.
He may not officially be the “Pirate King” of Bilgewater, but he may as well be with his reputation. Facing a firepower deficit, I led my men onto his vessel in a daring a boarding action, knowing that our own ship would likely not survive the ordeal. The battle was the most brutal we had ever fought in our five years at sea, an indescribable cacophony of gunfire, roaring wood, screeching swords, and screaming men. Alone, I confronted Gangplank, my rapier and whip against his poisoned blade and pistol, and we fought for what seemed like hours, a dance of swords in a ballad of percussive bangs and cracks. I had finally met my equal in combat.
At first, it appeared that we would be victorious. Though our vessel had been lost to Gangplank's guns, my crew had seized control of his damaged vessel, and Gangplank and his officers had been cornered under my sword and whip. It was then that he enacted his ruse; an eighth ship came out of the fog and pulled up alongside, and he and his men grabbed the ropes hurled by his comrades and escaped our retribution. We had already been exhausted by the ordeal and could mount no reprisal when Gangplank signaled his true flagship to fire, tearing the already injured galleon into flotsam and scattering my remaining crew to the seas, which were now roiling as a storm closed in.
I remember clinging to the vessel's false nameplate staring as Gangplank's rescue sailed off towards Bilgewater, his grating laughter searing my soul and mind with incredible hatred. He had denied my crew their happy retirement for years of service, and for all of my efforts and successes over the years, I could not save my crew from the ocean's depths. It had all been for naught. I swore vengeance, as the storm picked up and tossed me around, on those who predate on sailors at sea.
That's when she came.
A glowing, phantom vessel, majestic and immaculate, emerged from the fog as if from nowhere, and pulled alongside me. A sight defying further description. With the last of my strength, I swam to the ropes alongside the bow and found myself hauled onto the deck by an unseen deckhand as I lost consciousness. The next thing I remember was opening my eyes and staring into those of my beloved crewmen, loyal to me even in death, now spirits with a new ship to operate. Noting that I still had my physical form, I immediately sought out the captains quarters at the back of the ship, seeking the individual to whom I owed my life, whoever or whatever they were.
What I found was an unoccupied room, with glowing parchment and a quill laid out on an ornate desk as though waiting for me. A new contract, one with countless past signatories over what seemed to be thousands of years of proud service. Commanding the Storm's Shadow, I would sail the oceans of Runeterra, retrieving the honorable souls of those lost at sea, whether to storms or to pirates, and giving them salvation from the ocean's murky depths. In return, I would now serve the Shadow Isles, ultimately turning over the souls I rescue to the graces of the undead masters.
After all, there is no worse fate than to lose your soul to the mercy of the ocean's depths.
To celebrate today's anniversary of my command, we sought out a pirate frigate, their hull displaced into the water as though overloaded thanks to the bounty of some poor merchant vessel they had just plundered. With the squall heralding our arrival, we dove upon the frigate, cannons blazing and my crew roaring with unholy ferocity. A quick, brutal rout followed, as the pirates had clearly not bargained on opposition, much less us. With the battle well in hand, I found the ship's captain near the bow of the vessel, clearly unhinged at the sight of my visage and begging for mercy.
Today, I had no mercy to give.
