[Champion Concept] Adrean, Terror of Icathia
"Emptiness...
*...Loneliness... *
There is nothing to confide in. No living soul to whom I might confess. I fear I may be lost in this place - doomed to purgatory for my sins. It is dark here... empty... and yet I can see on for an eternity - into the gloom; beyond the tainted landscape of my home. The shadows here move and shape themselves, playing games on the edge of my vision. It numbs me to the cold of this desolate place.
*When they speak, I feel warmth - like memories of the sun on my skin. They've learned that they can trust me; to keep their secrets, to keep this place safe. And so they speak. They reward me. *
*Guide me. *
Without them, I surely would be mad."
#TO-DO!
- Find pictures that accurately portray something similar to what Adrean might look like.
- Character Dialogue in game + at champion select. Special interactions.
- Proofread.
- Somehow make this thread about the upcoming Viktor Rework.
- Dynamic level-up animations and descriptions.
- Proofread.
Ugh!
#CHAMPION OVERVIEW
Adrean draws inspiration directly from League's lore archives. Specifically that relating to the fabled lost city of Icathia. Veiled in mystery, but a crucial part of history (rhymes!), very little is actually known about the city. Kassadin's been there. Malzahar, too. So far, all this has cemented is the fact that occasionally, extra-ordinary people are gifted (or cursed with) obscene powers if they get too close.
But why? Hrm...
Adrean is a shot at something different. He is an attempt to offer some insight into the history of Icathia, and has a rather unique approach to battle on the Summoner's Rift. He is an attempt to break down walls. Which is rather fitting, considering the role he had to play in the early history of Runeterra...
#Playstyle Adrean is an initially frail champion that becomes increasingly potent as the game progresses. Boasting the ability to displace, slow, weaken and siphon from enemy champions (as well as 'counter' their blows), Adrean's relentless assaults can dramatically influence the pace of a game if he manages to stay alive.
#Physical Appearance Adrean maintains a slender, though muscular, frame; wrapped from the neck down in tattered leathers and the remnants of his once shining armour. His long, dark hair is uneven and unkempt, unceremoniously dangling over his eyes and concealing his maddened gaze from the collective view of his would be oppressors. But not even Adrean's tangled mess of hair can hide the unsettling smirk plastered dreamily to his face.
In his right hand, Adrean wields a double-edged blade, saturated and stained an ominous purple due to its prolonged exposure to the Void.
When moving, Adrean paces irregularly; his steps remain out of sync, and he seems to have difficulty remaining upright. When idling, Adrean gradually, though subtly, makes to rest his weight upon the hilt of the blade he grasps in his right hand. At no point during these motions does Adrean even hint a comprehension of his own weakness or injuries; making every move with an air of egotistical confidence.
As Adrean increases in level, his movements become more focused and deliberate. But more on that later...
#Lore
In the plains beyond the mountains, a sprawling city stood. A beacon of human achievement and the crowning jewel of civilisation. From across the seas, they sailed in by the thousands - just to get a glimpse of the incandescent light that shone down from the Spiral Palace. They slept in the gutters, scraped at the walls; strangling one another - suffocating, spluttering, forced to abide by rain and hail and all the filth that lined the streets.
And yet more poured in. For what price would man not be willing to pay... for a glimpse of true immortality?
I had said my goodbyes to my family and travelled far from the North to see the Palace. I was a scholar at the time. Not a particularly learned one - for I was still young - but I intended to change that. My ambitions were alive and burning in earnest, for I had resolved to be the first to document humanity's imminent rise to godhood.
The journey had been difficult, testing at my mind and body with every step that I took - but no sooner had I reached a clearing through which I might see the sky, allowing my eyes to set their gaze upon the enormous tower for the very first time, than I felt its effects. My hairs stood on end and, in an instant, my fatigue slipped away. I had been revitalised in a fleeting moment. And as I gazed upon the glowing spire, I came to know that what they'd said about Icathia was true: It had unearthed the very nature of the gods. The secret to eternity.
For months I must have been there, wading through the throngs of men, women and children alike. Not once did I ever need to eat. Or to sleep. I did not tire; I did not bore. My push was relentless, and as my proximity to the tower increased, my limbs grew stronger. I felt inside of me a surging power, but I was not the only one. For from the streets, I could now see into the palace. Men lived there. Nobles, their wives, their children.... and then I felt it. I felt the cries of frustration welling up inside the mob around me. I turned - for the first time in days - and I saw nothing but men. As far as the eye could see, they had saturated the city; the expressions plastered upon their faces painting a vivid picture of what would come next:
A madness was spreading. And there was no time to prepare.
They flooded upon the palace walls in a tidal wave of flesh. Like zombies, they hurled themselves against brick and stone. They knew that the power they had bathed in would make their assault unrelenting. Like me, they did not need to eat, or sleep. They were strong; and growing stronger with every step that they took forward.
I resolved to protect this city from its own insanity, and began felling trespassers in the streets with my blade. As it soaked in their tainted blood, it grew stronger; and I along with it. So many times I should have died on the steps of the palace, but the voice of another guided me and, in time, I persevered.
Daylight broke, and the assault soon relented. The madness that had taken hold of the horde seemed to dissipate under the light of the morning sun, and the horrific wailing from the night before was replaced with the quiet sobs of the survivors. The doors behind me opened, and I was ushered inside the Palace by priests and nobles. I was guided to the uppermost confines of the palace, where the King, himself, allowed me to bathe in the power of the Spire. I was made the city's champion, for this would not be the last assault upon the tower.
Our first threat came from the mountains, where the man-beasts dwelt. They almost certainly conspired to wrest immortality from us, and so I laid their lands to waste. In the West there were tribes of witchcraft, who had long been jealous of our strength. There was no way left to save them, and we crippled their resources with sorcery so that they would starve. The ferrets in the South took water from the tropics in the West, so we instilled a plague unto their water supply and feigned concern as their armies crumbled and their population went stagnant. But with every enemy we crushed, two more took their place. Before long, we seemed at war with all of Runeterra.
And so a grand wall was erected, yet still they flooded in. Refugees, the sick, the elderly, the crippled and deformed. They lined the streets and rooftops. They stood upon one another's shoulders - inexhaustible, unmoveable. And they chanted. And they prayed. The King addressed them as though he were their god, and as I stared down upon the people that polluted the lands beneath me, I was gifted a vision. A picture of the very future that our Lord intended.
And it was... dark. Desolate. Dead.
The King stood upon the corpses of his servants and advisers; Of his subjects; Of his ward. And at the very top of the pile, I could see into my own lifeless eyes. To this false monarch, was I just another victim? I shot back, in a panic - and it was now that I realised that the King could see me. His eyes were bulging, his face contorted. Twisted.
He saw my terrified reaction and began to laugh. It was manic. Infuriating. It got louder, more furious and even more terrible as it went on. Before long, it had begun to hurt me; I covered my ears, but it did nothing to alleviate the pain. I screamed defiance in the desperate hope that I could drown out the sound of his voice with my own, but to speak burned my throat. And so I suffered. I suffered under the crushing pressure of his laughter for what seemed like an eternity before, finally, I broke free.
When my eyes opened, the crowd was still cheering. It was strange... only now had I realised that they had been cheering for me all along.
My gaze fell over the pudgy form of our self-proclaimed Lord. The man was nothing less than a threat to all of our survival, exercising what he thought was divine prominence over each and every one of us. We were to be slaves. Servants. Toiling and wasting away as he grew fat and powerful on the fruits of our labour. The crowd's cries spurred me on - they were begging me for justice, crying for me to right the wrongs of a tyrant who meant only to harm them. The King had denied them eternity for so long; so very long.
But not I.
The false monarch turned his back on me, and I threw him from the very balcony upon which he so callously addressed his legions. As the wastrel hurdled towards the crowd, I could feel his servants bearing down upon me. But I had bathed in the very power of the gods, themselves; it was not difficult to overwhelm them.
The ones that survived begged for mercy. They would have it. I was not unkind.
Indeed, I was their salvation. I could now feel the light at the top of the palace pulsating; calling out to me. Soon humanity would be free to ascend to a plane of existence it could not even fathom. All that was needed was one more thing.
They called my name as I ascended the stairs towards the uppermost confines of the spire, the late King's loyal servants throwing themselves at me to bar my path. Before long, they recognised the futility of their actions and fell into line behind me. By the time I reached the spire's light filter, I had men numbering in the tens - maybe hundreds - watching from on far. Perhaps there should have been a ceremony. Or some magic words. But all it took was a single tear in the filter, and the light had engulfed the room.
And it spread. It flooded over the city; over the crowds, the buildings - even the late King, himself. And then it touched the walls, which glowed a deep red.
It was time.
It was time for humanity to ascend.
#Adrean Braen, the Terror of Icathia
Primary Role Fighter Secondary Roles AP Assassin, Jungler.
|Base Stats-------------------------|Growth per/level|-----------------------|Stats @ 18| |- |Health: 360| (+104.5 | | 2136.5 | |Mana: 150| (+55 | | 1085 | |HP/5: 4.25| (+0.5 | | 12.75 | |MP/5: 4.25| (+0.5 | | 12.75 | |Range: 125 (Melee)| (+0 | | 125 | |AS: 0.600| (+4% | | 1.008 | |Armor: 12| (+4.2 | | 83.4 | |Magic Resist: 30| (+1.25 | | 51.25 | |Movement Speed: 330| (+2.25 | | 368 | .
#Passive: Champion of the Spire
If Adrean defeats a hostile unit, he will begin to regenerate; gaining an additional 6(+4 per level) hp/5 and 2(+1 per level) mp/5 for up to 20 seconds. Champion abilities and standard attacks that successfully damage Adrean will cancel this effect. Neutral monster hits will halve it. Successive hostile kills will refresh the regeneration effect (it will not stack).
#Q - Aimless Vindication
**Active ** Mana Cost: 20/25/30/35/40 Cooldown: 7/6.5/6/5.5/5 Adrean's next standard attack will deal an additional 20/40/60/80/110 (+0.3 AD, +0.65 AP) magic damage and briefly displace the target struck.
Passive: If Adrean is struck by any ability or standard ranged attack (anything over 175 range - dives and ignites count!!), he will fly into a manic frenzy, focusing his powers and frustrations and gaining a one-time 375pt standard attack range increase (500 range total) for 6 seconds. Each ranged attack Adrean lands within the time limit will refresh this effect, but lower the duration by 0.4 secs, to a minimum of 2 seconds. Once expired, this effect cannot reactivate for at least 10 seconds.
Thematic Note: When striking from a distance, Adrean's blade swings will distort the air for a brief moment before a purple 'slash' particle strikes his target. These strikes count as ranged attacks and, as such, do not benefit from any melee modifiers (such as Hydra's passive).
#W - Agnosing Dismay
Initial Mana Cost: 30/35/40/45/50 Deactivation Cost: 35/40/45/50/55 Initial Cast Range: 500 Deactivation Cast Range: 425 Cooldown: 16/14.5/13/11.5/10
Adrean attempts to create an endurance-sapping conduit between himself and the target enemy champion, increasing damage dealt to the target with his attacks and abilities by 20% for 4 seconds. After a 1.5 second delay, Adrean can choose to deactivate Agonising Dismay and shatter the conduit prematurely; removing the initial effect, but slowing his target's movement speed by 15/20/25/30/35% for 2 seconds and dealing 60/100/140/180/220 (0.825AP) magic damage.
Thematic Note: While the conduit is active, Adrean's target will be engulfed in a bright white light. Adrean, by contrast, will be encircled in dark, void-like particles. Even after shattering the conduit, the aura on Adrean will persist for another 2.5 seconds. This is to increase his odds of successfully pulling off:
#E - Siphonic Barrier/Entranced Advance
Initial Mana Cost: 30 Secondary Activation Cost: 30/35/35/40/45 Entranced Advance Dash Range: 725 Cooldown: 20/17.5/15/12.5/10
Siphonic Barrier: Adrean surrounds himself in a siphonic barrier, nullifying the first ability used on him within the next 2.5 seconds and granting him 20/24/27/31/35 armour and MR for the duration. If a spell is successfully nullified, Adrean will be able to cast Entranced Advance.
Entranced Advance: Adrean traces the ability he siphoned to its source, refreshing the armour and MR buff and dashing at the target to deal 55/110/165/220/280 (+0.4 AD, +0.65 AP) magic damage. Targets struck in this way will be Marked for Sacrifice for 7 seconds. If a target is defeated by any source while marked for sacrifice, Adrean will restore 30% of his maximum mana and 50/90/130/170/210 (+0.65 AP) HP over 5 seconds.
#R - Twisted Eclipse:
Mana Cost: 100 PBAoE Range: 525 Cooldown: 160/140/120
Adrean exposes the light of the spire, pulling surrounding foes inwards before shattering the power source and distorting space around him. Hands rise from the rapidly darkening terrain beneath him, slowing all hostiles in the area by 35% and dealing 40/65/90 Damage (+0.25 AP) every 0.75 seconds for 3 seconds before dissipating.
Thematic Note: The spire light, once shattered, will unleash a deep purple over the AoE before fading back to normal. Miniature spectral walls will frame the zone, criss-crossing through the city (did I mention the hands symbolise the people who were sacrificed?) in a pattern resembling a sigil (ohhhh. NOW the lore's ending scene makes a little more sense!)
#Dynamic Level-Up Effects
Adrean is very weak during the early game, but can become quite the force to be reckoned with due to his obscene stat increases. For this reason, he goes through a couple of changes as the game progresses.
Upon entering the Summoner's Rift, Adrean is starved of power. He sways, he wobbles, he hobbles. Upon reaching level 9 - the halfway point - he's built himself up quite nicely. He's, more or less, as strong as any other summoner on the field; and he's only going to get stronger.
From 9, onwards, Adrean will stand fully upright. He'll walk deliberately, confidently, and - most importantly - without nearly falling over. This will also carry over to his taunts, jokes, standard attack animations and even his death animation. In addition, Adrean will begin emanating light from level 13, onwards. This is, by my calculations, when he will begin to get dangerous - and his power source becoming clearly visible should help players grasp that he's no longer a squishy defensive cs-abandoning pushover (He just makes me so mad!)
Plot Holes
This section is devoted to me making a point of getting the things I couldn't fit into the already irkingly large lore section across to you, the surprisingly patient reader.
There's a lot of confusing vagueness in Adrean's story. Who's voice guided him to safety during the revolt? Was the crowd really 'mad' during said revolt? Or was Adrean the insane one? Is Adrean REALLY 1000 years old? And what on Earth could have possibly provoked him into poisoning the Yordles' water supply?
Shhh... in time, my pet.
Some things have been left deliberately without answers. The voice talking to Adrean? Yeah - you're not going to know who that is. The source of the light? It's a secret. Man-made or excavated? Dammit, man - show some restraint! I said it was a secret!
But there are some things I want to clear up. Firstly, Adrean is immortal. Ageless, timeless, and completely bat-feces crazy. This happened as a combined result of regularly bathing in the light, and absent-mindedly siphoning the power from the people he slaughtered on the palace steps. He was definitely being groomed to become a champion - but it wasn't by the King (who didn't plan to kill everybody, by the by). It was by the aforementioned voice in Adrean (and everyone else in Icathia)'s head.
Icathia's power source - the spire - attracted this voice. But it is weak. It can play on emotions, or twist thoughts, or suggest solutions - but it doesn't really exist, yet. It's... like gravity. A natural force that can be very powerful, yes - but without a 1 million ton rock floating through space at lightspeed to put it to use, it's just kind've... there.
The void, in effect, I would argue is the same thing. It's not a natural plane of existence. Rather, a point of origin. It didn't always exist as a traversable plane. How could it? No, it was made. It was fed. And it became so large that a person could live inside of it. Trapped. For centuries.
Enter Adrean. The only true immortal of all the people sacrificed to the voice in his head. He was discarded after his duties were complete, left to wander the blackness in maddened isolation. One day, however something strange happens. A portal opens. Adrean has no idea how this came to pass (Kassadin), or how it could have been accomplished (KassadinKassadin), but he's so far gone by this point, he doesn't even care to think about it. Out he wanders, into Runeterra once more.
He then proceeds to start killing stuff and being generally antisocial.
He is eventually apprehended by some non-descript group, and studied by some non-descript enterprise. During a particularly painful session, he kills everybody - evidently much more dangerous than his apprehenders gave him credit. He can taste the power of the people living on Runeterra. He is still human, but so deeply is he saturated by the void, that he craves. He's not entirely sure what, but he's sure he can find it by siphoning the life out of things.
At some point, he is introduced to the League of Legends. His clarity is slowly returning, and he's now capable of legitimately thinking about his future. A little, at least. He recognises the benefits of diplomatic immunity. The benefits of redeeming himself in the eyes of others. But mostly the benefits of legally being able to siphon back his humanity from his opponents in the Rift and piece together the shattered remains of his past.
But don't let him fool you with the 'I only want to be normal again!' angle. He's permanently twisted. Being able to think coherently would just make him dangerous. Like a cute little puppy that grows into a vicious, rabies-infected attack dog who steals my lunch every time I walk past him (the owner won't even admit there's something wrong!)
Also, the war was a plan to draw refugees into the city. The walls were a giant sigil of sacrifice. So if you didn't understand the ending, there you go. :P
