League of Legends

First topic message reminder :

League of Legends is a game in the DOTA/MOBA genre (Defence of the Ancients/Multiplayer Online Battle Arena). It really good... although, the community is a bit bi-polar (they're either really nice or the worst people you've ever had the displeasure of playing with).

The premise of the game is a cross between RPG (role playing game) and RTS (real time strategy). You have a base that you have to defend, and your enemies have a base you have to attack. Each base spawns minions/NPCs at regular intervals and you need to kill the enemy's to let your progress. Killing earns gold which you can buy items with.

Click here to join up!

It's really fun!

Oh hush up.

Nevar!

They're adding a furry!



Although one of her tails appears to be coming from the front...

Kitsune-based, so right up Morb's tree.

It's Korean, so I expect there may be a lot of people referencing a particular film out there called "My girlfriend is a nine tailed fox".

I'm sure all references will go right over my head.

You got a bigger picture?

Wait, I though the term "furry" was for someone who is a fan of anthropomorphic art, not an anthropomorphic creature.

And you should show him Warwick.

it's both

I show you the newest champion Xerath, the Magus Ascendant

there was a small comic, like they did for Yorick, wich I got saved, but I can't find this one, I saw it and it was cool

Xerath's Judgement:



Candidate: Xerath
Date: 4 October, 21 CLE

OBSERVATION

Aside from the vaguely human shape within the shattered remnants of
his sarcophagus, there is very little indication that the being called
Xerath was ever a man. His presence is cold and unfeeling, with nothing
to be read upon the iron mask one might call his face.

He does not pause to observe the hallway around him. Xerath
approaches the massive doors to the Reflection Chamber and, with a sweep
of his arm, they open before him.

REFLECTION

The doors had only just closed behind Xerath when a sandstorm
obscured his vision. Violent, stinging wind surrounded him, and he
realized in horror that it began to eat away at his very form. The
shattered pieces of his sarcophagus withered into wisps of sand. Worse
still, Xerath felt himself grow weak. As his prison disappeared into the
storm, the arcane energy that made up his form faded with it, replaced
by flesh and bone.

The sands of time had turned against him. He was human again.

Around him, the storm took shape in the darkness. He recognized the
sandstone walls and the statues that rose from the floor to the ceiling.
These regal figures clasped scepters to their chests, and their eyes,
plated in gold, gazed eternally down upon those below them. He was in
the Temple of the Falcon, where all the mages of Shurima practiced their
craft.

The peers of Xerath’s youth sparred beneath their Magi ancestors.
They threw fire and ice and twisted magic into the shapes of blades,
honing the arcane into weaponry. Such was the charge of mages: the
greatest masters of magic would stand victorious over Shurima’s
conquered foes.

Xerath watched silently at the temple's wall, entranced by the light
from their spells. Nothing whetted his thirst for understanding as the
pure arcane. Its dull glow called to him, and in its depths he knew
there lay a thousand secrets.

“Why do you not join them, Xerath?”

The voice broke his focus. Tabia, one of his fellow mages, stood
beside him. Her sudden appearance and the look of her smile made him
stumble with his words for a moment. “Ah... well… we have our
differences.”

"You are a mage of Shurima," Tabia said. She moved closer to him. “We have the same path. What differences do you mean?”

“The way they bend their magic,” he replied, turning his gaze back to the other mages.

“They make weapons of it, but they don’t understand. The more you
force your control over it, the more you lose your true connection to
the arcane.”

"Magic is chaotic. You know the lessons. Without a mage's guiding
hand, we can only hope to control what the arcane does and does not
destroy."

"Yes, but if it's pure power we want..." Xerath cupped his hand. In
the curl of his slender fingers, a blue-violet flame sparked into
existence. He knew he could shape it as he wished, but he simply let it
burn.

On its own, with only the slightest prodding, the flame grew. Soon
it burned fiercely in his hand, its raw power coursing through him and
warming his very core.

“All it needs is a vessel,” he said.

He turned his gaze up from the flame to see Tabia looking at him,
not his magic. She smiled again, and her beauty drew his mind away from
the arcane. Between them, the flame grew stronger…

…and then reality blurred around him.

The temple darkened and Tabia’s face faded from his view. For a
moment he remembered the summoners' trick and the Institute of War, but
pain drew him back into another memory.

Sheer, limitless power set him aflame from the inside out. Deep
within, at his very core, he felt a searing agony where the fire burned
too hot, threatening to burn its way to the surface, to consume and
destroy him.

The arcane needed a vessel… but his frail human form could only hold so much.

Xerath grimaced. “I will not allow this mortal body to stop me." He
held out his hand. Arcane fire sprung from his fingertips, crackling
with power as it formed runes that hung briefly in the air.

The burning, blinding-white magic quickly grew to a tumultuous wind
around him. An ancestral statue shattered, its pieces crashing to the
ground and shaking the foundation of the temple. It took all of his
strength and will to hold the spell. Even then it swelled and flared,
threatening to break free.

But a voice rose above the chaos. “Xerath! Stop!”

Tabia.

Xerath’s hold over the ritual wavered as he turned towards her
voice. She stood at the foot of a Magi ancestor, her dark hair a stark
frame to her pale, beautiful face.

"You mustn't do this," she shouted, her eyes burning fearlessly.
"It will consume you. It is killing you already, and you would only let
it do its work faster!"

"Tabia," Xerath pleaded, his voice hoarse and trembling. "Please, you don't understand…"

The spiraling arcane twisted and pulsed like a storm above them. Xerath felt it slip further from his grasp.

"You do not need this," she said, and there was pleading in her
voice, too. "Stop it now, and you can heal. You can have life again. I
can help you," she paused. "Come home."

Xerath's will faltered. Perhaps she was right. He imagined himself
at home, away from the Magi and the arcane forever, and all the pain it
had caused him. The way it had eaten at him from within, all gone.
Perhaps...

Tabia mouthed something, but Xerath could not hear her. The statue above her shuddered and began to collapse.

"Tabia! NO!"

At the sound of Tabia’s scream, the rest of the statues and the
Temple walls began to crumble with the force of Xerath’s spell. He'd
lost control. At its center, he covered his face with his hands,
shouting her name in agony. His brief vision of home and escape from the
arcane had been lost as soon as he’d found the strength to reach for
it.

It was too late to stop the spell. It would consume him, too, and he
trembled in terror at the prospect. All of his efforts for naught...
everything he'd worked for, lost.

Unless he finished the ritual.

He hesitated. Part of him wished to accept death, but a greater part
still remembered what he'd set out to do—to become something greater.
To transcend the mortal body that held other mages back.

He had nothing left but this. Though his whole body ached with weakness, Xerath steeled himself.

I will become eternal… or I will die.

He raised his arms and the writhing mass of magic above him again
gained some semblance of form, but still it expanded, destroying the
remaining Magi statues and the temple's walls. Xerath pulled the spell
inward with all the strength he could muster, blocking out what he could
see of the temple collapsing around him.

For a moment, in the chaos of the arcane, he could see a reflection
of himself: a pale, emaciated man, aged well beyond his years.

As the spell engulfed him, Xerath's eyes were full of fear.

In an instant, the chaos subsided. Xerath was back in the Reflection Chamber, and a hooded summoner stood before him.

"All that power," said the summoner, "And now you are a prisoner."

"An inconvenience," Xerath replied, his voice echoing through the chamber.
"Yet not what you envisioned when you took control of that spell. Do you have regret, Magus?"

"I do not."

The summoner scowled. "You sacrificed yourself, your people, and the
woman you loved... all for power. Power you can no longer reach."

"As I said," Xerath continued. "An inconvenience. I will be free."

"Why do you want to join the League, Xerath?"

At this, Xerath paused. "The burden of my prison was brought about
because the mages of Shurima could not comprehend what it was I pursued.
I will not allow my goals to be misunderstood again. Consider my work
with your League, summoner, a show of good faith."

The summoner regarded him quietly for a moment before giving a curt nod. "As you say. How does it feel, exposing your mind?"

Xerath turned away. “I am no longer the naïve student you have exposed," he said, "My previous existence means nothing."

Everyone knows werewolves don't count as furries unless doing something specifically furry.

Oh boy I enjoy this game. Still pretty crap when not playing Taric or Kayle, but I enjoy it all the same.

I play a mean AP Kog'Maw. *throws up everywhere*

I've been playing a lot of casters lately, and it's killed my ability to play carries. I can last hit fine, but I suck infinitely at exchanges unless my support does all the work or the enemy is bad too. On the plus, I play a Ezreal pretty good (who is more of a caster than a carry).

My roster is now: Malzahar, Karthus, AP Kog'Maw, Evelynn (Dominion only), Ezreal and Gangplank. My skills with Graves, Lee Sin and Morgana (mid/support) are still acceptable though.

Still can't play solo top (except Rumble, and Gangplank if I get blue) or conventional support, though.

I just picked up Morgana, and I'm trying to get used to the skill-shots, but I generally play as a support character, as it becomes what I'm comfortable with. I can play a *hell* of a Kayle though, mixing AD/AS to create something that by level 15 is hitting 250+ damage twice every second, and with Kayle's specials, it gets really, really good, as long as someone else isn't fed.

Wait, you play LoL.

Oh, what have I missed.

Anyway, I once considered Morgana, but I found myself prefering tanky-mages, like Rumble, Swain, Kennen, and soon Vlad.

Jungle and AD carry are the roles I have trouble with though. Mostly because I can't find an AD carry I like.

You prefere tanky mages... You don't like Morgana? Did I miss something?

He must not like the constant Skill-shots

It's more that I just didn't like her than not my style. I may as well get her some time down the road, but she doesn't have quite the same feel of AoE damage, more than AoE lock down: she uses Soul Shackles, slowing everyone, then does some damage. Mages like Swain, Vlad, Rumble, and Kennen, deal continuous damage.

Champions owned (by role)
Tanky DPS: Irelia, Udyr
Tank: Leona
Mage: Kennen, Kassadin, Swain
Support: Karma

Wanted:
Tanky DPS: Yorick, Maokai, Shyvana, Volibear
Tank: 'Galio'
Mage: Vladimir, Gragas, Mordekaiser, Twisted Fate, Ziggs, Victkor, Xerath, Orianna, LeBlanc (pubstomp), Fizz, Katarina
Support: Zilean
AD Carry?: Graves? Twitch?

I'm a support-esque type of player. I play Taric really well, which is one of my owneds, and I own Morgana, Kayle, and Tristana too. Kayle is deffo my favorite, as boosting her up with AD/AS is rather good, especially in 1v1, and I can hold a lane against 2 with said build as well.



I'm looking into Jana right now, but we'll see what I decide on next. Kayle's just so enjoyable

My roster includes Karthus, and I'd like to think I'm good with him. Once you can play him without R, accidental triple kills are just the icing on the cake.

I feel the same with Rumble.

What's no-skill about him?

The triple kills part.

Yeah, but Rumble takes skill all the time to get triple kills.