[Champion Concept] Muirim, the Mire Shaman
Artwork is by Egil Paulsen
http://i.imgur.com/ofixqkX.png
Heaving shadows and winnowed truths are what beats in this blackened heart; to say I can ignore its tempo would be absurd. Even in this perceived death I am awake, feeling my way through the darkness of life…
#Lore
The mud was cool and damp, a strange presence that endeared him tightly, shielding him from the flies that danced overhead. With a maternal nod it curled around him, a warm and silent embrace that promised him blissful sleep. It was a perfect day, a sojourn in paradise, the peaceful ebb of life flowing through him. Yet, he felt a strange concern, a restlessness that betrayed his comfort.
His eyes fluttered open, confused as he was perturbed. The light was nearly blinding despite the early hour in the morn, adjusting quietly he sought to return to his slumber. Lovingly, the earth reclaimed him, though he lay disturbed and thoughtful.
He wondered briefly, why he was sleeping, or if he was ever asleep at all. He wondered how he arrived here at all, or if he simply came to be. Puzzled, he slowly he churned in his keep, raising himself from its tender grasp, squinting through frozen eyes. He noticed vibrant life surrounding him, in almost cutthroat fashion vegetation had consumed the environment. A luscious shade of green, the leaves held a color richer than gold, their mourning faces perked towards the horizon.
His mind was at ease, yet this only seemed to trouble him more. The world was so cold, yet he could feel his toes begin to sparkle with warmth. Unconsciously, a haggard wheeze slowly slipped past his lips, a ragged breath that brought both searing agony and mental relief. Everything was impossibly new and familiar, even his own body seemed to fall beneath such terms. His hands had grown so much smaller, his frame reduced to a child. Was he a child now?
His legs barely supported him, and with an audible grimace the mire covered the hole from whence he came, the guttural noises of grief bubbling to the surface. The sun peeked behind several iridescent trees, a golden glow bestowed on its brilliant foliage.
The world was perfect, and for that brief moment he knew utter peace; unbeknownst to the man that stood across from him, or how his legs buckled beneath him; nothing could take that away.
He awoke in a small, crooked room. The floor held a thin layer of water; a river ran freely to the side of the door, pouring out through a small slit on the gnarled wall. The room was pleasantly damp, as he turned to his side he was greeted with an assortment of fruits. Vaguely, a faint pain gnawed at his chest, and he quickly grabbed the fruit and bit into it. Tangy, tough; parts of it were rather hard to swallow, but in his excitement he did not care. As he chewed, questions began to pool in his rejuvenated mind; natural actions were glaringly novel, and yet he knew exactly what they’d do. As he pondered this, the door creaked ever so slightly open, an old man standing in the entrance.
He carried a long and rickety staff, his face was weathered and thin; a weak smile curling at the tips. He hobbled over the bed and laid the staff by its side, and taking a seat beside him. The man pricked his fingertip, running the blood down a small wooden carving. Grabbing his palm he gently swept a bony finger over its seams, feeling the caveats of the skin. His touch was warm and faint; an ethereal aura surrounded his presence.
With a single breath he muttered a silent incantation, then dragging his fingers from the palm he drew a sliver of shadowed mist. Gently blowing away the darkness he reached towards his wrist, and placed the fingers back onto his skin. He waited patiently for the pulse, but he could not feel even the slightest tremor of life.
The two locked eyes, and for a fleeting moment a twinge of fear fell onto the child, the thought quickly dispelled with a wave of man’s hand. The man grinned softly, and patted his placid arm with a faint tap of his fingers.
“Hello there Muirim, it’s been a while.”
http://i.imgur.com/TiUZ8Tq.png
The village was carved into a series of trees joined by a network of docks, torches and bioluminescent lights dotted each as the sun struggled to slip through the overgrowth above. The air felt strangled and wet, and as he walked along the wooden boards a sense of fatigue gradually overtook him. The man was seemingly unaffected by the nature of the atmosphere, though his pace never changed from a methodical amble.
The fishermen were sequestered to their private protrusions, an impressive arsenal of bait and hook lay at their disposal. Sheets of gutted fish and awaiting buckets lay haphazardly in between, making movement impractical outside of the central boardwalk.
Weaving throughout the cast lines and tanged paths they came to a grotto that bore into the swamp’s muddied walls, a burning glow emanating from within. The stark contrast gave an unsettling appearance, entirely unnatural and almost sinister. The man opened the door carefully and stepped inside, Muirim not more than a breath behind him.
All around him lay an assortment of potions and bubbling flasks, mangled flesh and heavily used bone carving were strewn across the floor, only a few pathways between the tables lay exposed. The man felt around the back wall, giving a sudden, yet soft push that caused it open inward, revealing a winding staircase.
“What’s down there?” The man turned with a startle, looking at him with an overwhelming curiosity. He raised his hand briefly before returning it to his side.
“What made you think that?” Muirim paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts and eventually spoke with a mild confidence.
“I don’t know.” The man chuckled softly to himself, then waved for him to follow.
“Quite alright, I didn’t either.”
As they began the descent Muirim wondered why the man was so gentle. A familiarity had grown between, and through that link he felt as if the man’s actions were off putting, even staged. The darkness encroached quickly as they fell, no torches lit the way and Muirim had to resort to feeling his way down slowly, guided by the man’s echoing voice.
“…Feels like only yesterday I rose from these steps, one can never get enough work done in time. Seems the only thing I’ve actually discovered is the frailty of the body, and I hadn’t even progressed much in that field the past century or so. I’ll soon have to find a new way to prolong this weary life, this method grows tiresome.”
“What method?” The wall grew steadily colder, the sticky dampness of the surface grew to a cold, unnerving chill.
“Explaining, would be pointless.” It took several steps before he continued. ”But to humor you, I will say it’s quite painful.” The thwack of the staff and the haunting laughter only served to further enthrall Muirim, as if the strange, forbidden secret that lay at the base was dragging him by the collar; his very own will turned against him.
“How painful?” The man only chuckled louder, and as he spoke a shadowy light began to pool below him, the end of their descent.
“A thousand times painful.” As Muirim reached the final step he was beheld with a large tank of swirling darkness, a miasma of death and agony. It was almost hypnotic the way it twisted and spread, capturing his attention with a domineering aspect to its form.
The staff stood eerily on its own, the man was hunched further without its support, tossing fragrant spores around the perimeter of a wide, white circle. The runes expanded across the entire room, forming figures and designs that escaped his biased view on the ground. The man shuffled over to where he stood, tossed some spores behind him, and from one of his pouches he smeared a mark of paint on his head.
Guiding him to the staff he sat Muirim down in front of it, and after throwing the bag of spores across the room for good measure he sat across from him, the staff dividing their line of sight.
“Strange, I always thought I couldn’t change, but it seems even I find myself changing outside of home.”
“What do you mean?”
“I never questioned what lay in this chamber, not even once, and yet you did. I never observed like you at that moment, and I can only hope that survives this.” At the last word he motioned behind to the swirling chaos behind him.
“I don’t understand-“
“Shh.” The man put a finger to his lips. “I don’t get to talk often, why not enjoy our final words?”
“Our?” Muirim squirmed in his seat, the only calming presence came from the man’s serene demeanor.
“You won’t stay the same after this, and neither will I. We just come out, different. Minor personality things, and besides, the mind’s still all there.”
“But-“ In that instant a bright light burst through the floor, the miasma charging in to smother it. In a horrifying display of strength both sides became intertwined, the chamber and the man disappearing into a blank, sleight void. It sucked in Muirim, piece by piece, and the gaping hole grew ever wider. In turn he watched his limbs pulverized to dust, his chest ripped from his head, and then eventually he met the infinite dark himself.
His mind searched endlessly for something to latch on to, only to find no anchor in the empty plane. He tried speaking, but words failed him, seemingly broken down into useless pieces before his voice could give them life. Here he was truly alone, no mud or men to keep him company, only the echoes of thought drifted among him.
Slowly, he began to see bits and pieces of light flicker in the distance, briefly alight and drawing closer and closer. Their glint became the focus of his existence, and as they drew near he could feel a particular chill.
He realized then, that the chill belonged to an arm. The arm grew to a chest, then a head, and then the rest of himself sprouted like a newborn seed. As he became more and more aware, the lights came to him screaming a frantic, shrieking song; a blinding flash that caused him to shield his eyes. Thousands of years of knowledge flooded his brain, memories that found themselves nowhere to go simply restructured the brain that fit them. His mind stabbed ferociously, the pounding only subsided after an hour of writhing on the floor. Once he regained the strength to open his eyes he groaned an eternal moan, lifetimes of pain and joy crashing down on him.
His body had jumped from a child’s to something large and stiff, an adult’s frame covered the runes like a flaccid sack of flesh. At once the voices of a hundred men whispered into his ear, departing as quickly as they arrived, only to return again with a shrill tempo the following second.
Collecting himself proved more difficult than he originally thought, this body did not adjust well to the ritual. A wave of quiet frustration came with this thought, a feeling he knew would stick with the rest of this life.
The chamber now made complete sense in its purpose after all of his own teasing, reincarnation. With a smoldering glare he grasped the staff, peering at where his annoying old self had sat, his being now nothing more than ashes. The shock of the new body was already wearing off as he turned to the entrance. He wondered briefly if he left the fire burning upstairs, and then decided that either way mud burned rather slowly, taking his time with rising to each following step.
#TL;DR
Muirim wakes up in a swamp covered in mud, and cannot remember anything. He realizes briefly that for some reason he was a child, then falls unconscious.
An old shaman comes for Muirim in a hut after he woke up, and takes him to his own hut built underground. After descending down a long stairwell he reveals that Muirim will go through a ritual at the bottom.
After setting up the ritual he reveals that Muirim and he will become joined into one mind, and that he has been doing so for hundreds, maybe thousands of years. Once it began Muirim’s mind was ripped apart, then reconstructed.
Gaining a plethora of knowledge and abilities, along with an adult body, Muirim retreats back upstairs, continuing his experiments/research.
#Base Stats
|Stat|---|Base Value|---|Per Level|--- |- |Health||389||+77| |Health Regeneration||4.8||+0.85| |Mana||250||+50| |Mana Regeneration||8.7||+0.7| |Armor||17||+3.8| |Magic Resist||30| |+0| |Range| |550| |(Ranged)| |Attack| |47||+2.5| |Attack Speed| |0.558||+3.3% | |Movement Speed| |335| |+0|
Role: Support
Friends: 
Enemies:
#Kit
#Passive: Mire Craft
Muirim has extensive knowledge of the natural world, able to harness its strengths and expose its weaknesses. He is able to purchase two items along with Stealth and Vision Wards, each one counting to the limit of that respective ward limit.
Wisp totem (75g):
Muirim places an invisible totem that summons a wisp to patrol the area (2000 range leash from ward position). The wisp reveals in a 700 range around itself, and can wander freely within the range, being able to move through walls.
If a wisp finds a champion, it will stick to them and reveal their location until they escape the range of the ward, or if the totem it is bound to is destroyed.
The totem does not grant sight.
Mire Eye (100g):
Muirim places a visible staff that grants vision in a 1400 range. This ward grants vision over walls and can see into brushes, but cannot reveal invisible units/enemies.
#Q: Murk Essence
Muirim projects a ball of decaying, dark energy in a line, damaging the first enemy it hits for 50/90/130/170/210 (+.3 AP) magic damage and fearing them for 1 second (running away from where the ball hits them).
If this ability hits an enemy, it can be recast within 3 seconds for the same range and cost of the original cast, the ball originating from the afflicted enemy.
If Muirim does not (or cannot) recast the ability, then after 4 seconds the ball will feast on the enemy unit, applying a 2 second decaying (10%/20%/30%/40%/50% missing health)% MS and AS slow.
This ability can be recast 1/2/3/4/5 times after the initial cast for the same mana cost.
Range: 900 units
**Cooldown:**8 seconds (starting after the ball feasts)
Cost: 50/55/60/65/70 mana
#W: Pulse
Muirim channels a black spell on an ally champion (cannot cast self) over 1 second, then draws in the life force of enemies within 450 range of that ally champion, dealing 60/110/160/210/260 (+.45 AP) magic damage and healing that ally champion for 60%/70%/80%/90%/100% of the damage dealt (max: 100/300/500/700/900 health). Minions only heal for 30%/35%/40%/45%/50% of the damage dealt.
The channel time goes down .1 seconds each time the ability is recast within 4 seconds, down to a .5 second channel time.
Range: 850 (ally can move out of range after initial cast)
Cooldown: .2 seconds
Cost: 100/105/110/115/120 mana
#E: Hex
Muirim casts a Hex on a target enemy champion, applying the Hex debuff for 1/1.5/2/2.5/3 seconds after a brief .75 seconds delay.
Hex Debuff All ability bindings are mixed together, an example includes
- Thresh activates Q, but instead casts his E (E icon shows on Q slot)
- Thresh activates W, but instead casts his R (R icon shows on W slot)
- Thresh Activates E, but instead casts W (W icon shows on E slot
- Thresh activates R, but instead casts Q (Q icon shows on R slot)
Looking at your abilities on the HUD will show where the abilities have been jumbled. The abilities are not arranged in any preset pattern (that means randomly, at a very small chance, you could have nothing change).
Range: 1050 units
Cooldown: 28/26/24/22/20 seconds
Cost: 50 mana
#Ultimate: Ruin
Muirim gathers the spirits of all dead champions in an area around him (2000 range), channeling their latent power into his staff. After .5 seconds of cast time, Muirim will crush the target enemy champion with the dark energy he collected, dealing 150/300/450 (+.4 AP) magic damage for the first champion corpse used, and an additional 25/50/75 (+.2 AP) magic damage for each champion corpse used beyond the first.
If this ability kills that enemy champion, then all allied champions that had their corpses used in this ability will be prompted for 3 seconds that they can be revived over the dead enemy champion that Ruin killed.
Allied champions that choose to be revived have 1 HP and 15% of their mana, along with the following debuff:
Revenant Debuff: This champion is afflicted with a decaying 40% MS and AS slow over 6 seconds as well as being invincible for 1 second upon revival as they readjust to the living. During this time, if they are killed the enemy champion that kills them will only get 50 gold.
Range: 800 units
Cooldown: 120/110/100 seconds
Cost: 100 mana
#Quotes
#Selection
“Death, life’s greatest inconvenience”
#Spawning
“Bah, much too bright.”
“Hmm, yes, this will do.”
“Ah, new volunteers. Wonderful.”
“Perfect, this hex won’t invoke itself.”
#Respawning
“You cannot stop me with those cheap parlor tricks.”
“Rise of the fallen…”
“Reborn anew.”
“I rise again.”
“You’ll have to do better than death to get rid of me.”
“Eh, I’ve had worse.”
“Death is not their ally.”
“Keeping me down is like killing a corpse, it doesn’t work, and believe me I’ve tried.”
“Time and time again, when will they learn?”
#Movement
“You want to see real magic?”
“Oh yes, this is just the beginning.”
“My methods aren’t exactly, pure.”
“Death had its fun, now its my turn…”
“A hex would do them good.”
“If its death they want, then its death I shall bring.”
“A dark flame flickers, just for you.”
“The mire is never wasteful.”
“I shall reveal their fear for what it really is.”
“Darker arts are simply the world’s most horrible secrets.”
“One whisper is really all it takes…”
“Destiny is hogwash, every string can be broken.”
“I think I have a doll that really captures your features.”
#Attacking
“The pain will subside...eventually.”
“Mind if I say a few words?”
“Don’t worry, death is quite relaxing assuming you don’t twist yourself.”
“Waste away…”
“Your life will do just fine.”
“Return to the earth.”
“If you could die with your arms by your side, that would be great.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take excellent care of your corpse.”
“You shall make excellent wormfood…or fish bait.”
#First Blood (Global)
“You rang?”
“Ah yes, now let’s use something a little more, potent.”
“Ever wanted to see what your inside looked like? Well, there you go.”
“You could have waited until I finished the incantation.”
“The darkness you feel is but a window to my twisted soul.”
“The horizon beckons.”
#Taunt
“You will know me, as you know the reaper.”
“I know of countless of ways to put that useless body of yours, to use.”
#Joke
Muirim pulls a giant necronomicon out of nowhere
“If you’ll look right here in my necronomicon...hmm, yes, you are dead.”
“Let’s see...add the four….carry the two….yes, it seems you’re dead.”
“Ah, my favorite bedtime story: ’...and then the Harvester killed everyone.’ The end.”
#Interactions
“Ah Karthus, enjoying your copy of the Necronomicon Centurial I hope?
“Yorick, it’s been far too long. How’s the family? To shreds you say?”
“Always potions, never hexes. Has ANYTHING else ever entertained a thought in your vat for a brain?”
“You cannot purge darkness just in the way I cannot snuff out the light.”
“Undeath is merely a beginning, it is not yours to end.”
“Allow me to introduce to you what Runeterra truly feeds on…”
“Unfortunately I am not beyond time, but I know someone who is…”
#Item Purchases
(Wisp Totem): “Fragile spirits make for the perfect slaves.”
(Mire Eye): “To pierce the fog, to rise beyond the trappings of this world.”
“Your purpose will not go unfulfilled.”
“What a trivial trinket, yet surprisingly effective. Hmm.”
“And do what, hobble faster?”
“Hmm, a few incantations and this could almost be useful…”
“Drink from the grail of death!”
“Let’s see, what secrets are you hiding?”
“Bah, even I can outlive this.”
“Now doesn’t this look familiar…”
“A guise for intent, perfect.”
“The eyes of a thousand souls…”
“A river to cry, a river to ward.”
#Death
“I shall return…”
“I retreat...to the black.”
“Death, your embrace beckons.”
“Ah, the void, such a desolate darkness.”
“Now to find the way home…”
#Extras/Animations
How to pronounce Muirim
Me-ur-im
Recall animation
Muirim raises a sturdy plant from the ground, the crushes the plant and drains out its lifeforce. Afterwards he throws several wooden runes on the ground, animating them with the dark energy of the plant. As soon as the runes position themselves in a circular pattern around him, Muirim is covered a shadowy mist and is transported back to base, faint wisps of the plants energy remain briefly after the animation.
Death animation
Muirim arcs back slightly, his body turning into a shadowy mass. The shadows seep into the earth, disappearing entirely. His staff remains, standing rigidly on its own, marking his grave.
#Skins/My Other Concepts
Like Muirim? Check out my other concepts below:
My previous concept
My previous support
Contains my first 5 concepts
#Skins
Classic Muirim: http://i.imgur.com/ofixqkX.png
Poromancer Muirim: Even the blackest heart turns white as snow in the face of Poros! His staff has a poro sitting atop of it, his attire turns to icy winter gear, chilling frozen particles (including a poro for his Q), and Mire Eye has a diligent Poro watching over the landscape on its icy watchtower. Gets a new VO that expresses a kinder side to Muirim.
Master Villain Muirim: This eccentric villain is beyond even your league, and he shows it well. Carries a cane instead of a staff, a fashionable top hat, monocle, and a sinister, velvet bathrobe. His Mire Eye is now the eye of Sauron (tweaked slightly), and his wisp is a tiny robot.Recall animation includes him relaxing in his chair, gesturing to the faces of his smited enemies with a nice, warm cup of tea.
Court Necromancer Muirim: Lose the rags, get rid of the animal pelts and the voodoo witchcraft. If he’s gonna perform dark magic, he has to do it right. Gets ceremonial black robes, a better crafted staff, and his wisps get a darker glow.
White Mage Muirim: Who says Muirim can’t turn over a new leaf? Fighting for the forces of good, he heals and confounds his enemies with brilliant light. Gets white robes, a more regal staff, and all dark particles are swapped with a warmer texture (more light, less dark and gloom).
