Lance, Research and Development
LANCE, RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT
LORE STUFF
"Research Head Lance Frigesco reporting, do you copy?" I speak into the wrist-mounted communicator, my voice slurred and my sight blurry.
"TACCOM here. We read you loud and clear, Research Head. Go ahead."
"I appear to be experiencing some slight vertigo. Test subjects have not reported anything similar - please advise." I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, applying gentle pressure and closing my eyes.
"Recall, Research Head, that you insisted upon being the first to travel as far away and as long ago as you have. Our calculations could not account for the temporal anomalies such a voyage could have. Slight vertigo is, honestly, to be expected."
"Mmm. Research log one, 08M 22D 3245AD. Success. Chrono-Transferal proceeding as planned. Current position... indicates north-north-west of Bandle City, five miles? City within sight. Damage to outer walls indicate... what? I'm not sure. Perhaps a battle has taken place here - though I do not honestly recall one. Interesting. Hypothesis: Chrono-Transferal has delivered me to a point in time incongruous to the timeline I am familiar with. Theory: There are more variables than could be taken into account on first jaunt. Either my appearing here has altered the timeline - doubtful, as I am in communication with TACCOM in my time, or I am in an alternate timeline. Possible. Damage to Bandle City's walls at this time is not correlated to any ongoing battles in this time.
Location... grasslands. Forests. Temperate region. Temperature is a steady seventy five degrees. Nothing anomalous in my surroundings, aside from the damaged walls. Forecast... cloudy. Overcast. I predict rain, soon. Drizzle, more like. It will get muggy. TACCOM, do you read?"
"Go ahead, Research Head."
For a moment, I marvel at how far technology has come since this time - this simple communicator can traverse not only the boundary of time but of... what? Causality? Different timelines, surely.
"Can you get a reading on the composition of the air quality on Runeterra, in Present and in CT-Past, for the area around Bandle City? I'll lift my communicator up."
"Yes, Research Head. It may take a few moments - try not to move."
I stretch my arm into the sky, letting my gaze roam over my surroundings while I wait for the reading. I watch the grass sway with the breeze and I let myself inhale through my ventilator. I know that the air is breathable. I know it - but I can never be sure. There may be an airborne pathogen that my body cannot handle - something simple to immunize oneself to with exposure, but something debilitating to suddenly encounter. It is better to be safe than sorry.
"Research Head - air quality is actually better for you, than us. We are detecting no known pathogens, however, there is a higher than normal amount of carbon in the atmosphere. I postulate that it is smoke from the damage done to Bandle City's walls."
I allow myself to frown. Over the course of many years, I had immunized myself to many countless diseases and viruses. It would have been a simple matter to do so now, and, more to the point, interesting. A sample from a millenium ago would be a rare find indeed.
"Copy that." I rip the ventilator's straps apart(we have come so far yet can't overcome the innovative boundaries of simple velcro?) and take a deep heady breath of fresh air. Yes, the tang of smoke is readily apparent, and so is something more. Something I can only describe as heavy. Foreboding. I lift the communicator to my lips.
"Research log two, 08M 22D 3245AD. I feel a sense of unease. It may be the vertigo, but I feel as though I have arrived on the cusp of something very important. Has fate conspired to ferry me to this moment? I am merely thinking aloud, but I like to think of myself as important enough to merit notice by cosmic forces."
Then there is noise in the distance, and I pause.
"Something new? Screaming? Fighting. The sounds of metal shrapne--" overhead, a blur of motion as something winged shoots across the sky. I duck down behind a rock and wait, before continuing. "Sound of shrapnel." I am painfully aware that I am talking at normal volume, but I was not made Head of Research by pussyfooting around and stalling. "Something with black wings just flew across my field of vision - destination unknown. Hypothesis: Too big to be a yordle. Threat? Not at this moment. Native? Possibility. Theory: Fleeing from something? Simply traveling?"
I face the direction the flying being came from and lift my face in the air, taking a deep breath.
"Scent of blood. Source unknown. It does not match any of the blood I have imbibed - not a champion? Correction: not a known champion. This timeline may have allowed for any number of unknowns. May be a civilian," I take another breath, before continuing, "but it is definitely no wild beast. Worth investigating."
I glance into the overcast sky, and into the woods, before pressing forwards.
"TACCOM, I am proceeding with caution. Keep a read on my location. Prepare for evacuation protocols if anything goes amiss. Incommunicado from this moment on."
“Research log three, 08M 22D 3245AD. I have come across the scene of a battle of some magnitude. Mangled remains of an older male human – ripped apart. Predator? No. Unlikely. Fresh… no sign of perpetrator. Hypothesis – murder? No. Possibly. I need to more accurately assess this timeline. Bandle City’s current condition implies warfare. Casualty of war? Perhaps. Likely?”
I bend low over the corpse, my shoes stained with mud, blood, and other fouler humors. I gently ease my fingers across the torn chest, “Theory: Blade. Rules out animal. Torn flesh indicates that the blade is not the sharpest – perhaps serrated? Strength is remarkable.”
I place a thumb under his eyelid and tug the thin membrane down a bit, before continuing down to do the same to his lips, “In good health. Well taken care of. Clothes are of good make, good material. Wealthy?”
I look over his hands, “No. Unlikely. Hands are calloused, worn. Theory: Good health and good clothes suggest an affinity with wealth, but rough hands suggest either a self-made man or a civil servant… Could be a pretender. Suit is threadbare – old. Second hand? Perhaps. Worth imbibing blood? Unlikely, but it is advisable to take a sample just in case it later becomes appropriate.”
The ragged wound is warm as I press my index finger into a gash in his chest, “Death happened within minutes of finding the corpse. Let me see…”
Procuring a scalpel and vial from my lab coat, I tilt the head of the man I don’t know left, then right, considering his jugular.
“Blood should still be viable. Heart ceased to beat but fresh enough to carry trace amounts of vitae. Experiments show vitae remains volatile for a period ranging from four to six hours after death. Flavor and texture at that range leave much to be desired.”
I tilt the head back a bit and make a small incision into the jugular – it’s amazing how dispassionate I am when it comes to human bodies. But, then again, they are just meat at this stage. The incision bubbles with congealing blood, so I gently insert a tube into the cut, and thread it into a stopper in the vial. Tilting the head to the side, I let gravity do its grim, sanguine work. A gentle carotid massage should increase blood flow enough to speed this up, so I press my thumb against his neck and begin applying steady pressure and small up and down movements.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
After what seems like minutes, I pull the half-filled vial away and place it under my nose. A long, slow breath confirms what I already know – vitae remains. The primordial energy found in all living beings, teeming with potential few know how to tap into. However, vitae is volatile. Dangerous. If this individual had any skill – magical, physical, or otherwise, remnants of that gift should lie dormant in the vitae; latent traces of what he was. Perhaps this is the vaunted soul? That which causes religions to rise and fall. That which makes a human a human and a yordle a yordle. Perhaps not. Perhaps there is none. Oh. I nearly forgot.
“End log.”
I ease myself up, brushing dust from my lab coat and turn from the corpse to observe the field. A few steps, squelching with bloody, frothy mud, and I begin to take in the area.
I am not alone.
My mind works quickly, deducing what is before me. An individual, wrapped in armor. Material? Unknown. My brain works quickly to postulate the molecular make up of his armaments – difficult at first; further tests required – but something strikes me as familiar. That blade… those spines…
“Greetings!” Casually, briskly, I stride towards the towering figure. I breath slowly, deeply, using my perfect control of my anatomical systems to “dope” my blood with oxygen, as the vernacular goes. I’ve controlled my body in such ways and for so long that the processes are automatic – autonomic. I understand that this man is a killer, so I prepare for possible combat. “Your blade performed the killing blow on that individual, did it not?” I gesture behind me to the corpse.
“And if I did?” the beast, (for surely no such appellation fits better!) rumbles, his voice like iron on silk.
“Answer me this – did he possess some sort of skill or gift? Something beyond the norm for a regular human?” I am moving closer, my eyes locked on his own but my peripheral vision boring holes into the metal of his equipment. I can hear his heart beating languidly, calmly. It calms me as well. I know he has a heart. I know he can bleed. Whatever he is – beast, demon, or man, he is vulnerable in more ways than I. Realization: Gaps in armor. Opening is possible.
I twirl the corked vial of the dead man’s blood in one hand and the scalpel in the other, smiling disarmingly. Finally, I stop ten feet from the menacing individual.
I can feel his eyes on me. That sense of unease – of dread. But more, that sense of importance. I feel it heavy in the air about him. His eyes briefly scan my coat, settling for an interminably long time on my communicator, and then finally on the blood and scalpel.
“What do you intend to do with that?” The way it is said, it is more demand than question. Despite myself, I quiver. His tone is delicious. I become all the more aware of his heartbeat. If I focus, I can hear the blood coursing in his veins and I become enthralled with the idea to sup it. I am aware of the erotic overtones, and have long since inured myself to the shame of it.
“Oh, this?” I turn the scalpel over in my hands and finally pinch the cuff of my lab coat between my index and thumb, keeping a pinky wrapped around the blood-filled vial. I pull the sleeve up, up, and up, revealing a network of scars – a ladder of pain. I mime slitting my forearm with the scalpel, hovering the blade mere millimeters from my wrist. “It’s my method.”
“Your method is self-mutilation.” Another question clothed in the garb of a statement. Exquisite.
“No, not entirely. This is my method.” I move fast. Quicker than most men – the blood of Nidalee flows deep in my veins, the procurement of which was surely hell. In this timeline, perhaps she lives. But in mine? She died many centuries ago. She required a bit of finagling to find the body and revivify the blood, but it was worth it. Catlike reflexes – the fierceness and speed of a predatory cat! Rengar! I can tense my muscles and react with impossible speed. Rammus! Slow of word, but quick, so quick! The stamina to build momentum and keep going! I cherry pick the traits inherent in the vitae and amalgamate them into my self.
I slit my wrist, dragging the gleaming scalpel across an almost-healed scar, shredding scar tissue and the healing flesh beneath, clearing the clot away with a thought. The blood flows – fast, so fast! But not down my wrist, no, but outwards. Outwards in a conscious stream of movement, a single iron-hard tendril of roiling, viscous blood. My blood. Like a tree, from this root blossoms branches, and from which grow twigs, and from which thorns stab out. In moments I fill the air with this briar of my essence. I grow pale, but I know my limits, and this is far from it.
I react with haste because of this being’s blood. It radiates power. The vitae calls to me, and there is naught I can do but quench my addiction. If I can pierce him, but once, I can take a sample! If I pierce him a hundred times, I can perform a dissection. See why his arm is the way it is. See why he looks the way he does. He is certainly more than human.
My senses are honed to perfection, and not even the finest swordsman could evade every needling thorn. The armor stops some, but I am after the gaps in the armor. The chinks and the tears. Under the arm pit, around the neck, the face, the groin. I am beautifully aware when a thorn finds its way through steely muscles, my blood rejoices, and through it, so do I. A mere iota of his vital essence should be all I need to fully understand him, to know of him, to grasp at his power.
In less than two seconds, the wall of bloody thorns appeared and receded back into my wrist, carrying the information I so desperately cra—oh.
He has impaled me upon his blade. He is fast, as well. Faster than my ability to dim my nerves and temporarily kill my pain receptors. But I am laughing. I’m laughing so hard. He lifts me into the air and I divert all blood flow from the wound – it is temporary, until I can be set down again. For now, I merely cut the pain off at the pass.
Dropping the vial of blood and the scalpel to the ground, I grasp the blade and savor the exquisite sensation of my skin parting. I cry out, “O Gloria! What are you?! Divine, but not! Apotheosis from man of flesh to demoniac host!” My glasses slip down my nose, and I instinctively prop them up, smearing my blood across my face.
I bring my communicator to my lips, still hoisted in the air and eyed with curiosity by my erstwhile audience – or am I his? – and begin talking, fast, “Research log four, 08M 22D 3245AD, I’ve found it! Divinity garbed in mortal flesh! His vitae must be exquisite. I must have it – will have it. I wonder, then, does immortality come vested in the nature of the demoniac parasite latent in his being? I have felt it! But… are you immortal? Do you age? That is the fire I cannot quench, try as I might!” I grab the spines of the blade, and drag myself further along it, cutting through innards and spilling viscera. I have the presence of mind to contain the foulness, however, preventing sepsis. I pull myself to the hilt, grabbing on to his collarbone and pulling my face to his. In tandem, though for different reasons, we both say…
“What are you?”
BIO
Lance is inexplicably cruel for the sake of cruelty. If given the chance to anesthetize a patient, or perform s procedure without, he will almost always opt for the more painful. He will defend his decision as a simple matter of scientific study - that any dimming of pain or consciousness will compromise any viable gains from the procedure, but the truth of the matter if that Lance enjoys pain - giving it, receiving it, it doesn't matter.
He is the head of Research and Development upon the Bioweapons Research Ship, Maw of Malmortius, where he labors strenuously to come up with new weapons and tools for the Noxian elite. From time manipulation to genetic splicing, nothing is quite off limits. The current head of Noxus, in Lance's timeline, is General Marcus du Couteau, who has given Lance carte blanche to do as he pleases without moral quibbles and civil sanctions. As a result, most who end up on the Maw of Malmortius are fortunate to consider it a death sentence.
Those unfortunate to draw Lance's eye with a unique trait or a powerful gift earn his immediate attention. The longest one of these patients lasted was twenty four days, as Lance meticulously and painfully dissected the poor man - his scalpel peeling layers and layers of skin from muscle from bone, because Lance is after something.
Vitae. The mystical soul. The font of all life. The substance by which we are made who we are. We are all vested with it, and in it we vest ourselves, but Lance believes, wrongly, that great pain will induce greater amounts of Vitae from the sufferer.
Lance is barely the man he was twenty years ago. His blood is an amalgam of the blood of hundreds of individuals, his own Vitae so inexorably linked and tangled amidst the Vitae of each that who Lance genuinely is can never be said, for he is Irelia, Karma, Annie, Kog'maw, Cho'gath, Mordekaiser, and so many more beings of unique and terrible power.
But despite all this, despite harvesting the skills and gifts latent in the Vitae of hundreds of individuals, there is one trait which evades him. Eternal life. A cessation of time's pitiless march. And if he has to harvest the Vitae of a thousand more, a hundred thousand more, a million? He will. And he will do so gladly. Because he feels so strongly that immortality is just around the bend that he would put the universe to the torch just to see it.
He'd do so much more, so much worse, just to acquire it.
APPEARANCE
Lance is an individual who could be confused for a world weary forty year old or an energetic sixty year old. His features haggard and worn from countless years bent over an operating table, but even his middling age cannot hide the deftness with which he wields his silver scalpel, or the lightness and grace with which he moves.
Around one wrist, Lance wears a silver watch-looking contraption, through which he communicates with others and makes notes. Around the other he wears a black armband, upon which is inscribed a white chain. He promises to wear it until he can break the fetters which keep his body aging.
His features are remarkable in how sharp they are. His chin is pronounced, his nose is angular and aquiline, and his eyes have a probing nature to them which leaves everything bare beneath his gaze. Upon his nose perches a pair of wire frame glasses, which he meticulously cleans.
He wears a white lab coat, and under that he wears a simple set of trousers and a button up shirt - comfortable and roomy. The long sleeves of his coat hide scars along his fore arms, a grotesque latticework of cuts and tears and gouges, some healing, some fresh.
STATS
Health: 400 (+85) Health Regen: 6.0 (+0.6) No Mana. Range: 125 Attack Damage: 45 (+3) Attack Speed: .6 (+2%) Armor: 12 (+3.5) Magic Resistance: 30 (+1.25) Speed: 345
ABILITIES **Passive: Harvest Vitae **
His auto attacks cause him to gain Vitae, as they steal his opponent's blood. This is represented by a bubbly red resource bar beneath his health and is consumed by his Q, W, and E.
Additionally, for every unit Lance personally kills, he consumes some of their blood, increasing his health permanently by 1 / 1.5 / 2.
Numbers: Vitae acquired per auto attack : 2 / 3.5 / 5
Q: Pathogenic Pliability
Lance infuses his blood with an element designed to induce pliability and suggestibility. He then evaporates it and sends it forward. The first foe struck by the cloud of blood is wracked by indecision and stunned. This abilities' effective radius is increased by 100 at the cost of 20 Vitae.
Numbers: Magic Damage Dealt: 80 / 120 / 160 / 200 / 240 (+.6 AP) Radius of Effect: 100 units(200 units) Duration of Stun: 1 / 1.25 / 1.5 / 1.75 / 2 second Health Cost: 4% of current health Cooldown: 12 seconds Range: 800
**W: Sanguine Briar **
Lance slits his wrist, manipulating the streaming blood to form a briar of hardened, sharpened sanguine thorns at target location. This ability has a vector system, in that once you cast it, you can drag it to decide on the angle of the barrier, forming a V, for instance. This slows and damages foes who pass through it. Additionally, this ability can consume 20 Vitae to become an impenetrable barrier.
Numbers: Area Magic Damage Dealt Per Second: 30 / 60 / 90 / 120 / 150 (+.15 AP) Wall Length: 400 / 500 / 600 / 700 / 800 units Duration of Wall: 3 seconds Strength of Slow: 20% Duration of Slow: 1 second after stepping out of the briar. Health Cost: 8% of current health Cooldown: 20 seconds Range: 1000
E: Blood-Borne Aberration
E: Passive: Lance receives 5 / 6.5 / 8 / 9.5 / 11% Lifesteal and Spellvamp as long as he is above 50 Vitae. This bonus is doubled if the Blood-Borne Aberration is alive.
E: Active - If Lance has 50 Vitae, he can activate this ability to conjure a Blood-Borne Aberration beside him for 50 Vitae. This monster spawns with 100 stacks of Vitae. Every second, the Aberration loses 2 Vitae. Every attack it receives makes it lose 5 Vitae. Every attack it deals grants it 5 Vitae. If the Aberration passes through the Pathogenic Pliability's missile, it gains 10 stacks of Vitae. If it passes through the Sanguine Briar, it gains 10 Vitae - this only applies the first time.
Additionally, upon death, the Blood-Borne Aberration reverts to a pool of quickly congealing blood for four seconds. Lance may walk in this pool to regain 20 Vitae. The pool's radius is 150 units.
Numbers: Life Steal/Spell Vamp: 5 / 6.5 / 8 / 9.5 / 11% Doubled: 10 / 13 / 16 / 19 / 22%
Blood-Borne Aberration Statistics: Vitae: 100 Vitae Vitae Regen: +5 per auto attack dealt. -5 per auto attack/ability received. -2 per second active. -50 per Smite/Consume. Uses Vitae: ---- Range: 150 Attack Damage: 70 / 85 / 100 / 115 / 130 (+.2 per AP) Attack Speed: .4 / .5 / .6 / .7 / 8 Armor: Irrelevant Magic Resistance: Irrelevant Speed: 350
The aberration receives half the stat of any items Lance purchases, excluding health, armor, MR, and CDR.
Lance must wait 40 / 35 / 30 / 25 / 20 seconds to summon a new Aberration when the old one dies.
The aberration will teleport to Lance's position if it exceeds 1200 units away.
**R: Unstable Mutation **
Lance drinks a vial of blood, from a champion of old. This grants him a permanent buff, depending on the champion chosen. He can activate this ability to deal damage in a largish radius around him, drawing blood from his opponents to ease the stress of his unstable alterations - healing him and dealing damage to his opponents.
Numbers: Magic Damage Dealt: 200 / 300 / 400 (+1 AP) Healing Received: 10% of total damage dealt. Radius of Damage: 500 range Health Cost: 6% of current health Cooldown: 50 / 40 / 30 seconds
Rank 1 - Choose one!
Xerath - "Dry, yet full-bodied."
Increases the range of all your abilities by 100.
Sejuani - "Crisp, as though on ice..."
Your auto attacks slow your target by 10%.
Taric - "Truly, truly outrageous."
Increases your Armor and MR by 20.
Jinx - "What a heady concoction! Full of vim and vigor."
Your movement speed is increased by 10%.
**Rank 2 - Choose one! **
Brand - "Scalding. Chase it with something to negate the heat..."
Your abilities deal additional magic damage equal to 5% of the foe's maximum health.
Nautilus - "Deep. Textured. A powerful, exquisite taste."
Your first auto attack immobilizes the opponent for 1 second. This ability cannot proc more than once per enemy until 12 seconds have passed.
Zilean - "Aged to perfection..."
Reduces your cooldowns by 10%.
Kog'Maw - "Wild. Acidic. Bitter."
Lance's auto attacks burn away 2% of your opponent's maximum health as bonus magic damage.
Rank 3 - Choose one! - Combat Increases
Lux- "Light and peppy. A very delicate bouquet."
Lance's abilities debuff the opponent with Volatile Blood for four seconds. Hitting an opponent with Volatile Blood with an auto attack deals bonus damage equal to (20 + 10 x Level) and rewards Lance with 10 Vitae.
Blitzcrank - "... this is water."
Lance increases his attack speed by 10%. Additionally, the first auto attack against an enemy will silence them for 1 second. This cannot proc against the same champion until 12 seconds have passed.
Lulu - "It does taste purple!"
Lance may sup this beverage to permanently give him 10% more bonus health from all sources. Additionally, his size increases a little bit.
Malphite - "Marbled and thick - remarkably hard to acquire."
Grants a shield that refreshes itself. This is equal to 8% of your maximum health. This shield refreshes once Lance has gone eight seconds without taking damage.
GAMEPLAY
Lance is a remarkably versatile champion. He can feasibly fill any role in the game, excepting AD carry.
A jungling Lance should strive to get an Aberration quickly, using it to tank jungle mobs until he's sturdy enough to fend for himself. With a strong leash, he can function well on his own until he gathers the 50 Vitae required for his Aberration. Once he does, his ganks are remarkable. A Vitae-boosted Sanguine Briar will wall off egress, allowing for a solid gank. He has a lot of ways to stop foes.
A supporting Lance works similarly to the jungling one, using his various abilities to separate and stop the opposing AD carry. His strongest ability might be his wall as a support, though the stun is no slouch either. Using the Aberration as a walking ward is applicable, as is using it to stand ahead of the line to intimidate the enemy.
A mid Lance has some problems - similar to Morgana in that she has no real "spammable" ability. However, with a reliable jungler, he has enough ways to hold people down to confidently allow a kill.
Top might be his strongest lane. Not only can he get an Aberration out easily, but he can confidently farm with it. Walling an opponent off with his aberration is a strong combo.
However, in nearly every situation, the aberration will die. This cuts out a strong portion of Lance's damage. Though, when dealing with a pet-using class in any game, the best way to eliminate the pet is to eliminate the pet's master. And the aberration does nothing to help stop that.
Most importantly, perhaps, is the notion that he's a lot like Blitzcrank. An AoE ult, and a lot of supportive, disruptive abilities.
