[Champion Concept] Sylva, the Ribbon Dancer
#Sylva ##The Ribbon Dancer
Visual Representation
http://pre08.deviantart.net/58f4/th/pre/i/2016/169/6/9/bound_by_dzetawmdunion-da6o9jj.png
Source: Bound by dzetaWMDunion
Summary
Attack ■■■■■■■□□ - [8] Defense ■■■■□□□□□□ - [4] Ability ■■■■□□□□□□ - [4] Difficulty■■■■■■■■■■ - [10]
#Primary Role Marksman
#Secondary Role N/A
##Gender Female
##Race Human
##Resource Mana
#Short Lore
#Ability Overview
#Base Statistics
Health: 527.7 (+80) HP/5: 5.424 (+0.55) Mana: 300 (+40) MP/5: 8 (+0.6) AD: 54 (+3.5) AS: 0.644 (+3%) Armor: 23.38 (+3.5) MR: 30 (+0.5) MS: 335 Range: 550
https://www.hiveworkshop.com/data/ratory-images/93/93451-9d73022a8891dbb9ca900737fd39e5ef.jpg #Passive ##Dance of Flowing Water
Sylva’s autoattacks utilise the Blue Ribbon. When Sylva autoattacks an enemy, she directs the Blue Ribbon to their location in order to deal damage to the target. Any other targets in the path of the Blue Ribbon are dealt 50% damage (25% against minions). This damage can critically-strike. Sylva can also direct the Blue Ribbon to a certain location by using the Alt+Right Click command.
If given a direct target command, the Blue Ribbon will pierce 100 units past its original target.
Attack commands made without a specified unit target are classified as Free Target and have a slightly increased command range.
Once the Blue Ribbon has struck a primary target or reached a specified location, it will remain at that location until ordered to attack or move.
If the Blue Ribbon is more than 800 units away from Sylva, it is warped back to her.
Ribbons which pass through enemies also deal the Blue Ribbon’s pass-through damage.
Direct Target Range: 550 Free Target Range: 700
Notes:
- A unit cannot be affected by both the direct and pass-through damage
- Sylva does not need to stop moving in order to select new targets for the Blue Ribbon.
- Structures are not damaged unless they are the direct target of the Blue Ribbon.
- On-hit effects are only applied to the target of Blue Ribbon. If directed at a location, only the first target it passes through are applied on-hit effects.
- Windwall will not stop the movement of Blue Ribbon, but will deal no damage and apply no on-hit effects after passing through it.
https://www.hiveworkshop.com/data/ratory-images/77/77997-13d7363a63332b6b474c849474ff61fd.jpg #Q ##Dance of Growing Strength
Sylva unleashes a Green Ribbon which erupts from the ground after 0.5 seconds, dealing 60/100/140/180/220 (+0.6 bonus AD) physical damage and marking enemies initially before flying up and coming down on Sylva.
Sylva's next command will also use the Green Ribbon slowing all affected units by 30% for 1.5 seconds
Range: 800 Radius: 250 Cooldown: 12/11/10/9/8 Mana: 60/65/70/75/80
https://www.hiveworkshop.com/data/ratory-images/68/68379-aa5eeb1d5da44ba601bfaba03facc705.jpg #W ##Dance of Piercing Majesty
For the next 4 seconds, Sylva utilises her White Ribbon which twirls with her Blue Ribbon, dealing 5/10/15/20/25 (+0.05 total AD) true damage while bleeding enemies hit for 10/20/30/40/50 (+ 0.1 total AD) true damage each second for 2 seconds.
Champions and monsters howsoever struck by at least one of the Blue Ribbon or White Ribbon while bleeding extends the duration of the bleed by 1 second.
Cooldown: 10 Mana: 40
https://www.hiveworkshop.com/data/ratory-images/68/68375-af681316c8f0dd4ff337aba7095afe6f.jpg #E ##Dance of Introspective Reflection
Passive: Passing a Ribbon through an enemy grants 3/3.5/4/4.5/5% movement speed for 3 seconds. This bonus can stack up to 5 times.
Active: Sylva creates an illusory form of herself at target location, which persists for up to 4/4.5/5/5.5/6 seconds. The illusion is untargetable, and can be moved with Alt+e. Every time the Blue Ribbon executes a move or attack command, Sylva will also fling a pass-through ribbon at the illusion, which will fling it back after an 0.5 second delay.
Sylva may also reactivate to fling a Red Ribbon at the illusion, causing her to blink to it’s location once the ribbon touches the illusion.
Range: 600 Illusion Leash Range: 600 Cooldown: 24/23/22/21/20 Mana: 60/65/70/75/80
https://www.hiveworkshop.com/data/ratory-images/88/88655-286f77638e679129ad88c6da1211e0ef.jpg #R ##Dance of Essential Form
Sylva releases her Black Ribbon to unleash Graceful Sweep, knocking back all enemies to her maximum autoattack range and dealing 150/250/350 (+0.8 bonus AD) physical damage
Cooldown: 120/105/90 Mana: 100
End note
All icons belong to Hive Workshop.
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#Extended Lore
It was a beautiful day, all things said. As Sylva gently trailed the ribbons around her slender body, twirling lightly upon the hardwood floors, she could feel the cool air drift as she danced and dashed across the elegant stage. It was here that she was truly in her element. To her, this was more than art, a pursuit of her talents, the everlasting search of perfection in that which could not be perfected. It was life, for it was the sole reason she lived. The sole reason she could live, and would continue living. This was everything she now possessed although…in some dark times long ago…
Sylva pushed away the thought, chiding herself with the words of her mentor, Mistress Tsiaryi. Focus on that which you are now doing, not what you wish to do, or what you had done. It is the only path to breach even the lowest form of that which you seek – and that is perfection, a tall hill to climb. Sylva raised her arms as she spun quickly causing the elegant ribbons to dance along the tender currents of the air, sparkling and shining in pure brilliance. She sighed softly, admiring the beauty herself, though not languishing too long on the thought lest it distract her. What wonder there was, what absolute goodness it brought to the world, with the art and beauty even an unlearned peasant could appreciate some speck of.
Despite herself, she glimpsed her assistant Mina, waiting patiently, her notepad ever in her hands. Finishing with one final flourish, she let herself relax somewhat, apart from the poise that she required of herself when performing upon the stage, and beckoned her over. Mina obliged, although she half-walked, half-ran, unsure of the best way to approach. Something that would improve with time, Sylva thought. Young, this one, almost as I was when I began my training, but competent, and likewise eager.
She stuttered her first few words, something which did not escape Sylva’s notice. Perhaps a little longer on this task, to see her limits, before a replacement should be sought. “M-Miss Sylva, I find that beautiful. In every way….I just…I haven’t really seen Ionian Ribbon Dancing at all so…you’ll forgive me if this is somewhat new to me.”
Sylva smiled softly at the girl, watching her brown hair waft weakly against her shoulders, carrying the breeze. “Thank you. It is truly a pleasure to see those who appreciate culture and art. A gift, an admiration lost today.” In truth, she had slipped up on multiple occasions. Minor, although a trained eye would catch it, and she could never truly exempt the presence of a trained eye from her audience. Her third pirouette had minorly imbalanced her, almost causing her to lose control of the blue ribbon, potentially compromising the next pose, the Fury of the Three Graces. She caught herself though. It would not be right to shout at the girl for something she would not know, not least something she could ever learn, or even understand.
Sylva turned to Mina, letting the ribbons fall softly by her side. “If you please, I wish to rest, briefly, before the performance. Please inform me when the audience has fully entered the theatre.”
Sylva stood at the window, admiring the many stars which flickered and twinkled amongst the sky, mired only by the dark, twisted spires which dotted the Noxian skyline. She hated gazing upon them, for in her mind, she felt as if they carried an air of irredeemable evil which plagued those who would live near. She hated that everything about her surrounding, but she had to endure it, for her hour had come. Everything she had worked for had led her to this – to seek justice for a wrong uncorrected. She turned to the warped mirror in front of her, a slight smudge upon her silver reflection. She sighed softly. She pondered whether or not there was time – whether she even should. Surely, at the hour of her deliverance she could spare a few moments…to relive the past – to reminisce of a time long gone – or even to steel her for the actions that were to come. It wouldn’t hurt…
Sylva reached behind her, undoing the thin black cord that hung around her neck and gently palming the shard of crystal that dangled off the loop. It was good to feel it again. The warmth it still had – even as it faded, day by day. She could remember when it was warmest, almost boiling hot to the touch, although then, it had also been slick with a crimson thicker than water. She turned, coming aware of what she had known but it was too late. There was nothing she could do. Relaxing from her tensed state, she lay back, and let the past consume her once more.
Once more, she was young, watching as her three brothers had left for war. She had not wanted them to, almost begging them, but they were honourable and good men. Honourable to the extent that it had effectively blinded them to what lay ahead. Everyone had known of the invasion by the Noxians and their nefarious forces. Everyone knew of the evils they perpetrated, how they would use even children for their vile means as soldiers to serve in an unjust war. Everyone knew of their black magics, conjured up by madmen in the depths of Zaun. Above all, they had known to fight was to die, but still their foolhardiness overrode any other instinct. To fight, to defend what was theirs, was their only thought. Sylva had lamented that when she saw them ride off. She had lamented it a countless number of times since.
She did not see them again for over a year, although she would hear snippets of information carried through treacherous land by brave resistance fighters who risked everything to rid the land of the foreign invaders who were nothing but parasites, seeking only to leech and destroy which had been goodly constructed by those who wished nothing but a peaceful existence.
It was nothing but unjust when she had heard of the deaths of two of her brothers and the capture of the third by a particularly vicious battalion known as the Scarlet Standard, who were ‘merciful’ enough amongst the Noxians to take prisoners, although she had learned that those who did survived often they had died, living in camps where they were merely expected to die, their evil and dark ideology condemning those they considered weak and inferior.
When the war had ended, her last remaining brother had returned, although he was broken, both in body and mind. Sylva would often the pains and shrieks he would shout throughout the night. He did not last long, as one morning, to surprising quiet, she had found he had stabbed himself through the heart, apparently unable to continue living with the demons that had been forced upon him. She had lost herself that day, almost driving herself to the same fate. But she had calmed herself.
“Think, Sylva, think”, she had spoken to herself, almost as if a mantra. “What would he have wanted you to do?” Sylva pondered this question a long time, her form almost as still as her brother. It was the next dawn before she took action, having taken the body and buried it alone, a single girl, each clod of earth heavier than the last. But she had not been silent in her task. With every breath, every time she dug at the soil, she had cursed the invaders who had taken everything, and more from her. She had damned them every time the soil hit the still body of her brother. And upon the gravestone, she enchiseled her vow of vengeance. When the work had done she kneeled quietly, tired, broken, and cried. What could she do? Those who were responsible – those who were left had long since sailed off for the wretched hive of a homeland. She could not touch them. But as she cried and wept her tears off pure bitterness, something had listened. The spirits of the trees, half animal, half man, known by some name now long forgotten. They had listened to her lamentations, each and every one, and felt her pain. They knew the darkness and the resolve that entailed. Most of all, they had known the pain of their comrades who had fallen beneath the unceasing march of evil which had preceded this all. She could remember the words even now.
“We know the pains that have befallen you, and us, so similar to you, have suffered alike…”
Sylva – her old self, had shivered at the statement. She had heard stories of these beings, so elfin amongst the trees – mysterious in and of themselves. But what had they wanted, she wondered, and why now, why here? Most of all, why her? She was nothing special, merely a broken girl from a family torn to shreds by the war that had waged all around her – a war that she had not asked for, nor profited from. It had brought her only pain, as it has so many others, in the same circumstances all across the land. Why did it have to come?
“It’s true then. For a human, you are surprisingly insightful. We don’t care who, or what, we take from, as long as we get what we require. And if it provides you what you want, does it truly matter?”
She had thought long and hard on this, the mysteries, the possibilities of what they could – should have offered to her. And yet…they would give her what she wanted, the desire that she most wished for…absolutely nothing in return. It was almost spectacular in that way, how they could give her that. But at what cost? They had mentioned absolutely nothing, and she would not give in to them so easily.
Or so she thought. As she pondered their mysteries – the details of their most curious offer, she had weighed the scales. Was it worth whatever price they asked? Could she take it? Definitely, there was more to the issue, but even so…
The figure spoke again, this time, in a measured tone. “You ponder what you have to lose should this bargain come to fruition. You understand how he ‘magical’ creatures work, and it is true. But ask yourself this: what is it that remains for you to lose? Your family is broken and gone, and you, the most broken amongst them. Your home is in ruins, and your heart seeks only pure vengeance quenchable only by bloody, fury and death. Is it not worth it? I offer my power – you offer the hate within – that which drives you beyond what you are capable of. And is that not something that IS worth fighting for, worth competing for, even worth killing for? It will direct you to them. And it will remove them as a threat to you and yours forevermore. There is no contest, girl. Give us your power, and you shall have it.”
Sylva dropped to her knees, a single silver tear making its way down her perfect face – the only thing that remained of her – her old self – a past she wished she could lie and dream in forever. She knew it was not much of an expression, that countless such tears had dropped, were dropping and would drop for eons to come, but it didn’t matter to her. For Sylva, this was her purest expression at the anguish of the moment – the culmination of her turmoil and pain in one crystalline drop, not some tool to be used in a melodramatic fashion like so many others. And for that, she spoke.
“W-w-what do you require?”, she mumbled, a second tear down joining the first.
It smirked, the half bestial form in front of her rearing up, almost in triumph. Sylva did not care anymore, for the pain was too great. What could this all mean? Could there have been some way around it? It didn’t matter to her, for the hole in her heart – the hole where all her love, her compassion, her ability, nay, willingness to understand the world resided was simply too great. It was unique in its depth, unfillable even if a thousand men spent a thousand years trying. It was a depth that transcended any written – or even feeling that had ever been felt. Sylva wanted to feel nothing – she had done her utmost to do so, but in its place rose only a raging hate.
And with a single short motion, she nodded, accepting unconditionally the offer presented to her. There was nothing more, for what had not been consumed by the hole had been reduced to the few cinders which sparked within her soul – consumed utterly, leaving her nought but a husk – one living dead. And they had made their offer, at last.
They had offered her a means to remove them, carved from some twisted chant enshrined in the memory shard. They had offered her the means for revenge – to cut the one truly responsible from this land so thoroughly that those on nine generations on either side he had known, would also know the pain of death when he would, that even those with a drop of his blood in their veins would have their lives instantly end when it was carried out. And now she had the means to do it.
She would do it. Anything – everything in her power. She had given up far too much for there to be anything left for her that had not been consumed by the hole. No love, no feeling could ever encompass the desperation, the fear, the lust for revenge that remained. Sylva knew that this very quest could be the death of her – that it was too much to ask, or just some foolish forest magic. But she had nothing left to lose.
Sylva snapped from her stupor. She had been entrapped within her delusions too long, such that she had almost missed Mina calling to her. The time had indeed come for her finest performance.
Striding upon the elegant wooden stage, lit every so daintly by the many chandeliers that lit the hall, she saw them all, the adoring audience which can come to know her as the ever elegant Ionian Ribbon Dancer, the last purveyor of the most elegant art, perhaps the purest form there was. She could see the admiring eyes, the looks of wonder, and Sylva enjoyed every moment of it, smirking. How they would all dream of being her, like her, or even better than her.
The foolish dreams of a mortal, she thought to herself. The delusions of the unwashed, impure masses, held sway by a power they knew nothing about, a power that cared nothing for their wellbeing past their capability to serve as pawns. They knew nothing of the sacrifices she had made, the path she had taken, the pains she had endured to reach this point. They would continue to know nothing until it was demanded of them and the true price to be paid for such folly. It was almost humourous to her, almost permitting a smile. Sylva held herself back, for she could not. Never had a moment of joy been allowed to grace her, for the dark, terrible things she had endured.
Briefly turning away, she could see the musicians in the pit below, ready to play to her tune. As she demanded indeed. Here, now, they would serve only to aid her in her ploys, to seek the revenge she sought. And she would take it. Absolutely. That man who had caused her so much pain, so much suffering – was here, ostensibly to appreciate her art. But she knew his name. She knew whom he was. Of the Scarlet Standard, the very same that had brought her to the very brink, having murdered two of her brothers, and effectively causing the death of the third. There was no justice but the justice she wrought, for she knew it was so. She had known how he had volunteered to guard those camps where those within were expected to do nothing but die. Some of the most vile people alive were those of the SS who volunteered to guard the camps indeed. Sylva knew of this, and she held it close.
True, there were more to die that day, for the curse would stretch nine generations on either side. By her guess, perhaps ten thousand would die, all because those who had wronged her would dare lay eyes upon something so pure as her art. But they would deserve it. Sylva looked to herself once more, pondering this question. Was it truly so? Did they really, absolutely deserve that end, and no other, despite any good they could possibly do?
She caught herself on that note. There was no good to come of them. It had ended the day she had taken the bargain, and now there was no turning back. The price that was offered...her ability to feel, to emote. But it didn’t matter to her, for she felt nothing but the emptiness and depths within.
The show had to go on.
And so the curtain rose.
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#Closing Thoughts
