[November MCCC] Melant, The Second's Hand

EDIT: You can try him out in a really somewhat bad form here (Recommended to use Google Chrome): Melant Test Prototype

Melant, The Second's Hand Role: Bruiser

Note: Lore has been relegated to the back end of the champ, as It's about 2000 words long. Sorry about that.

Passive - Timestream - Melant builds Flow whenever he is moving. The whenever he deals damage to an enemy, some Flow is consumed and his cooldowns are reduced by 1 second. (Room for one additional mechanic here)

**Q - The Clock Strikes **- Melant punches in a direction (Melee Skillshot). If it hits a target it deals X damage and knocks both of them back some distance. If it hits a wall, he is still knocked back. Mobility tool. Low CD, Low Damage.

**W - Earthbound **- Melant gains a shield for X health for 5 seconds that grants Y% of its strength as attack damage. Shield gains health equal to Z% of distance traveled, doubled if against a wall/other terrain. Can additively stack.

**E - Second Chance **- Melant bends time to return to his position one second ago. Doing this restores X% of the damage he received in that second. Also adds one second to the duration of his shield.

R - Chrono Trigger - Melant pulls an object from another timeline into his own. This object will appear at the target location after a short duration, dealing light damage and briefly slowing enemies. It will then remain on the field, and can be hit by Clock Strikes to deal heavy damage, knockback and stun opponents. Can store up to 3 charges.

Still really rough, but that's the short form of the champion. The lore is going to be that he dreams of the original timeline, and is driven by this to flee Kumungu, trek across the Fyrone Flats, and seek out Zilean in Urtistan, who trains him to perhaps fix the timeline.

Yes, I took on three challenges, three zones, so here's the breakdown:

Urtistan - His passive and his E interact with time in some way. His Ultimate does too, but only in theme. Kumungu - His W and Q interact with the terrain, and his Ult creates some more. Fyrone Flats - Mostly his Q, but his E ties in too. He can always just about control distance in the jungle or in melee, but the rest of the time he's in trouble.

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LORE

*I had the first dream in the Spring. I dreamed of the trees and the wild, of my homeland, but without my home. *

The jungle burned with sunlight as the forest awoke from the cold of the winter, the vines already reclaiming much of what the frost made bare. Dozens of clans lived alongside the forests of Kumungu, whole family raised with the jungle, instead of against it. We had learned our lesson from the Rune Wars that tore through the jungle, until the jungle tore back.

You see, the forests of Kumungu fed off of the magical energies of the war, and grew vile and vicious. For years none dared tread its lands, but as the scars faded, the forest needed human magic to sustain its newfound strength. It called to our fathers, brought them to its borders and forged pacts with them. The forest imbued the men with the residual magic, who in turn cultivated it in themselves, and passed it along to their children when they became of age. In this way, the forest's energies would be renewed with every generation, and it would need never suffer at the hands of men again.

And so it was, that today I was to be given the power of my father, as my elder brothers and sisters had been given upon their eighteenth birthdays. I stood before the whole clan, the runes scribed onto my body with ceremonial paints which would soon be the eternal sign of my pact with the forest. My father towered over me, calling forth the full extent of his power, and a silence spread across the land.

We all felt as his power splintered, a single seed forming out of all that he had, and as it passed toward me, I felt something terribly wrong, and dreamed of something worse.

In that impossible mirror world, I stumbled across an untamed and unfeeling wild. Beasts and magical forces still twisted and fought one against another in this land, and all I wanted to do was to go home. As the light quickly slipped from the world, as the shadows grew to stand larger than any beast, I began to panic, to cry, and to scream for help. I should have held my tongue at that last piece though, because something heard me. I felt it rise up in front of me, a force, a will, an energy far beyond even that of my father. I felt it look at me, considering me as if judging some impossible quality. As it did, I stood, transfixed by its immense power. It felt like an eternity that I stood there, but it ended in a flash when I felt it come to its decision. It felt... pleased. And it was at that moment, that it cut my right arm clean off.

I awoke, screaming, writhing in pain. I tried to run, to flee, but it was my father's arms that held me there, calming me.

"Melant, son, can you hear me? Are you alright? I'm right here."

My panic and terror subsided, but the pain was still there. I nodded, teeth clenched and tears streaming down my face. He slowly released me onto my own, weak legs, but kept his hand on me until he was sure I could stand.

Looking around, the whole clan was in shock. A few were sobbing, or comforting each other, but most were simply silent, staring at me as if I was from another world.

I still felt weak, and off balance, but the pain was keeping me sharp. I moved my left hand to nurse pain in my shoulder, when I realized that the dream was more real than I thought, and fell back onto my father's waiting arms.

The next day, I awoke and my mother explained to me the events of the previous day. How the ritual had begun, the runes below my right eye bore proof of that, but the power took root in something else entirely, and the resulting power blew my arm apart. She told me how my father had sealed the wound with his own power, but feared to do anything further, and how he now traveled to speak with the other clans.

The dreams continued, growing in intensity, but also in scope. I would find myself in grand cities known as Noxus and Demacia, or in sweeping deserts filled with forgotten tombs. I never again met the shadow, but I felt her always. At least, I always felt watched by someone, always a her.

It was a few months before my father returned. The other clans saw me as a threat to the forest, the clans, and to their power, and nothing he could do would convince them otherwise. I was to leave the jungle, and never to return.

My father returned with the grave news, and I heard him arguing with my mother about its necessity before he ever made it up to me. I knew, from the first time I stepped outside the forest in my dream, that this was coming, so by the time the argument died, I was already gone, traveling north to Fyrone Flats.

Whatever happened to me, it wasn't over. Every step I took in the dreams strengthened my body in the real world. I was strong, fast, and realized I could go days without eating, sustained by whatever this power was.

I sped along, through the Forest that no longer accepted me as its own, and made it to the edge by nightfall.

A tower stood alone and forgotten. It was the Great Clocktower of Urtistan, but the city was nowhere to be seen. My father told me about the city when I was a child, how he had ventured from it so many years ago when the Forest called to him. I stood at the tower's base, and felt once again the presence watching me. In an instant, the day fell away and the shadow rose again, rising with her in tow. Her power swelled, but I stood against its immense tide, and its waves broke. I felt its judgement pass over me again, but this time it passed without a conclusion. Instead, as quickly as the day fell, it rose again, and the shadows fled to the peak of the clocktower.

The trek across the Flats was grueling, even with my newfound endurance. The sun beat down hard during the day, and the night's winds ripped away whatever comfort the cool had offered. I began to see what should have been mirages, but I knew in my bones were something else. I saw structures out of the corner of my eye that would flee my direct gaze. Boulders and caves, even bones of great beasts, all of which were never there. These lands had been flattened years ago by the Rune Wars, but sometimes, in these glimpses, they weren't.

The nights offered no reprieve either. My rest was worthless as my adventures across this mirror world were replaced with that damn Clocktower. Every night I saw it, stood by it, studied it, screamed at it, but nothing. Even my shadow admirer refused to show herself. It was just me and the tower, alone.

At long last, I stumbled to the gates of Urtistan, hardened by the cruel nothing of the Flats. A man stood there at the gates, waiting for me.

He told me he was the Chronokeeper, and his name was Zilean. And he told me he had dreamt of me.

We spent hours wandering the city as he told me about the world of my dreams, but all the while not a second passed for anyone but us. The world finally began to spin again when we reached the clocktower. With a wave of his hand, it opened for him and we entered.

Inside, it seemed to go forever upward, perfectly machined gears spinning up and up, without so much as a sound. I followed the Chronokeeper as we rose through the clocktower on a perfectly spiraling staircase. He grew quieter as we neared the top, his stories beginning to give way to a somber silence.

He paused for a moment just before the top, and the look on his face as he turned to look at me was one of deep regret.

"What you are about to see. What you have seen. It changes a man. It is not too late to forget all of this and go home."

As he spoke though, he turned and continued to the top of the tower, knowing his words were only a wish, and that the truth had already made its mark on both of us. And so I followed him, and he showed me of my dream.

I saw time spread out unthinkably vast, but so much of it was hazy. So many possibilities cluttered with endless noise from the smallest of changes. However, one timeline shone clear as crystal before us. Free from change, paved by choice, it was the world of my dreams. All the places I had seen were once real. All of the champions and cities rose up and I knew them all. I watched as they began, as they rose, and then, as they fell.

"The Black Mist," Zilean explained to me as the world crumbled, "It came for us. And, I fear, it is still coming."

I watched in horror as a familiar shadow spread across the land. I felt a burning pain in my right shoulder as I realized what it was. It was her.

Then, across time, and against all hope, the shadow turned to us, and both the Chronokeeper and I were transfixed, frozen in terror just as I had been on that Spring day. The shadow rose and it rose, taking on clearer shape than ever before until it stood before us, as real as I was.

"Vengeance..." she bellowed, her voice like an open wound, "Vengeance will come." Her words struck me like drumbeats on my chest, as power ripped from her world into ours. I doubled over, the pain in my arm burning through my body like a thousand ropes of flame.

"A Gift."

At that moment, pieces from the Clock Tower in her world shot into ours, collapsing and compacting onto my right side. Each piece carried another tragedy from their dead world, and I watched as millions died.

I lashed out, my new arm pulsing with power, and a need to see those deaths avenged. I charged her, a massive punch to drive her into the wall, but I missed and sent myself hurtling backward instead.

I watched as I made the same attack, and understood. I drew on the new power of my arm, and time slipped back just long enough for me to adjust my strike, landing a devastating blow. I felt stronger, faster, and satisfied that I could now fight what had terrified me for so long.

As I stood over her, I felt that power within me surge again. I could feel both her world and ours, and it was the simplest thing to forge a bridge between them, to send her back.

The space around her shifted and began to lose its focus, as the details became subtly different. I pulled the space from her world into ours, sending her back in exchange.

"Avenge us." she cried between the cracks of the world as she vanished.

I stood, looking to Zilean, but his face was vacant. Too many tragedies had marked the man, and he couldn't bear another.

So, there I stood, the Vengeance for an entire world, and the safety of a second, entrusted into my hand.

His skill names are rough, and they're numberless, but I'm blandly prototyping him right now, so it's starting to work out. I don't want to make you read through pages of lore just to realize the concept stinks, so I won't yet. I'm trying to make the idea work, then we'll play with the rest.

Let me know what you think, and I'll be sure to review whatever you've got for me too.

Thanks, TheDeathstalker

Edit: Added a picture. I picture him a bit older, but the rest actually fits pretty well. Stole it from Deviantart right here