The ShadeOverviewOnce, those now known as the Shades were part of the ordinary inhabitants of Sanctuary, the Nephalems. Then Inarius twisted the world stone, robbing them of their magical powers and revealing their existence to Heaven and Hell. As is known, war broke out in Sanctuary. Heaven and Hell fought for control. What is less known, is that some of the generals of the invading forces of Hell, took back prisoners... For generations, these prisoners were forced to labour as slaves and servants in the darkness, performing grueling work in conditions more miserable than can be imagined.
The chaotic, predatory power structure of Hell ensured that only the most perseverant survived. Bend and twisted by the powers of evil, forged by pain in the deepest chasms of the darkest corners of Hell, they grew stronger or they died. Slowly, out of the darkness, out of the anguish, stepped a new race. The pits of Hell gave birth to the most resistant, diehard people that the world had yet to behold. Having long since been stripped of their magical abilities, they possessed no gift for the arcane or the spiritual. As such, the relentless suffering and hardship forced them to draw on the only resource available for power... Their own life force...
One day something happened. Something that had happened many times before, and would happen many times again. The legions of Heaven launched an attack on Hell, only this time, the location of the strike happened to be where the Shades were being held... With newfound powers flowing through their veins, blood magic, the Shades were more than ready to break their bondage. To their saviors, the Angels, they swore an oath to combat the minions of Hell to the point of extermination. However, whether their true motive for allying with the Angels is one of gratitude is a matter of debate. Some scholars are of the opinion that the Shades are simply corrupted creatures, bloodthirsty, vengeful and even evil, reveling in war and bloodshed and hungering for revenge. These same scholars question what will become of the Shades once Hell has been ultimately defeated, believing that the Shades will always be warring as darkness dwells in their very souls... Lore
... The chain around his ankle was of heavy iron and attached to it was an even heavier ball of solid lead. Rusty and a loose fit, the chain scraped his leg as he walked. Covered in scar tissue and numb, he no longer noticed. He was of average height and built like an athlete. Still, there was something akward about him, about the way he carried himself. Slouched with his shoulders rounded, leaning forward and looking down. His eyes were dead and sunken into his skull. His face was a ghastly shade of grey, a feature attributed to the thick, impenetrable darkness that lay around him, as it had always done in this place. There was no sun here. Pearls of sweat glistened on his brow, before running down across his near non-existent eyebrows, where they came together as droplets, growing larger and larger until gravity pulled them to the hard granite floor, where they landed inaudibly and quickly evaporated. It was hot. Infact, the temperature was so blazingly intense that most creatures of Sanctuary would last mere minutes before succumbing to heatstroke and possibly death. Terrible, deformed monstrosities trudged about as he grabbed a sack filled with heavy objects and began to drag it from one point to another, before doing it all over again. The monsters were of all shapes, sizes, colors and any other traits that might come in useful when attempting to describe minions of evil. And evil they were. When bored, a favorite activity of theirs was to physically torture their underlings, and - as often happens when one leaves all work to be done by others - they were frequently bored. The sound of metal striking metal was almost defeaning as hundreds of smiths swung their hammers against anvils time and time again, the hypnotic rhythm only interrupted by the sizzle of boiling furnaces. The work never stopped. He never slept.
A third scream.
In an instant, everything turned to chaos. From somewhere not far away, the screaming was increasing in intensity. Terrible, penetrating screams. This was the sound of horror, of agony and impending oblivion. They were coming from monsters, that much was clear, judging by the hoarse and demented quality of the shrieks. As soon as a new scream was heard, it ended abrubtly and a new one began. A slaughter was taking place.
He immediately stopped what he was doing. His muscles became tense, his posture straightened and alert. His ears were on edge, trying to take in every single bit of information available. He felt... Awake. Something was happening here, now, that would forever change his life. Of this much he was certain. For the better or for the worse, he had no idea, though he suspected that it might not actually be possibly for his quality of life to decline any further. He hissed at his brain, telling it to shut up. This was no time for deep philosophical thought. If monsters were dying, being killed, then that had to mean that someone else was there... But who? Must be more than one, must be many. Must be many and powerful. Incredibly powerful, actually, is what they would have to be in order to take on such a massive congregation of monsters, demons and other hellspawn as was to be found in this place. Or perhaps they were just incredibly insane. At the moment this train of thought came to an end, a massive spherical object of pure light burst into existence behind one of the nearest buildings, its top towering above the roof before imploding with an electrical snapping sound, as if a whip had been cracked. Severed body parts and mutilated torsos came flying through the air, quickly followed by a crimson shower of blood that rained down on everything in the vicinity. For a moment there was complete silence. From behind the building, a figure appeared. A massive, awe inspiring figure. His hulking body covered in golden platemail, sparkling brilliantly in the dim light from the furnaces. The mans face was hidden under an elegant hood of greyish silk, not even his eyes were visible. Additional warriors appeared, some of them female, all of them dressed as divinely as the first one. The monsters seemed to have fled. The angelic looking warrior approached the lone slave.
"Who are you?"
"I... Am a slave... Who are you? Are you going to kill me?" he asked, his voice monotone, entirely devoid of fear or intimidation, which seemed to slightly unsettle the man in the golden armor
"That depends on your answer to the following", the giant man paused for a moment and sheathed his bloody sword before continuing, "On which side do you stand?"
"Are you an imbecile? The eternal conflict, the war between us and them!"
"I don't know who you are, but I assume that by them, you mean the creatures you just massacred a bunch of, and I'm certainly not on their side... "
"Well, th-", the giant man stopped mid-sentence, spun around at lightning speed and raised his arm straight out from his body, pointing forward with his palm. An arrow stopped a couple of inches from his hand, hang suspended in the air for half a second and then fell to the ground, "Fight with us, or die!" the man snapped as he drew his sword, muttered an unintelligible word which seemed to cause his blade to burst into a serene white flame with which he with a swift jerk of his arm cut the chain around the slaves ankle in two, before returning to his comrades to face the incoming horde of foul monsters.
He just stood for a moment, watching the brightly colored warriors clash with the frenzied brigade of abominations. The warriors fought as a single unit, each protecting the person next to them from incoming blows and projectiles. Everything they did was perfectly synchronized down to the smallest detail. Every time a monster came close to them, it was immediately struck down with a precision blow to the neck or skull. When several monsters rushed forward at once, they had their bodies torn apart by flashes of magic. The monsters stood not a single chance. It was a bloodbath. He looked around him. At the nearest forge was a weapon rack stacked with swords, maces, daggers, flails and a couple of shields, one of wood and one of metal. He had never held a weapon before, much less used one. Yet he found himself fascinated, standing not a hundred yards from a minor battlefield, carefully fondling the different lethal tools before him. He picked up a mace, it seemed clumsy and impractical so he let it back down and grapped a sword. Its handle was steel with some sort of strong leathery yarn wrapped around it, to allow for a comfortable aswell as firm grip. The blade was long and slender with a tip like a needle. It had an elegant feel to it, powerful and exhilarating. He liked it. Moving on, he decided on the shield of metal, believing the wooden one to be too fragile. The metal was obviously heavier, but he was strong enough for it to be of no concern. Right as he picked up the shield, he heard an alarming noise behind him. He turned around and instantly spotted the source of the noise. An ugly red creature was growling at him. It was about half his height, had red skin and long black hair. Two long horns were protruding from its forehead. It was carrying a dagger. It growled again.
"Rakanishu!" it yelped as it charged at him, swinging wildly with its little blade.
He took a stance, bend his knees, placed his shield infront of him so that it covered the entirety of his body leaving only his head exposed. The creature came closer rapidly. He felt surprisingly calm, considering that he had never been in a fight before. He had been beaten up, even tortured, but never had he offered any resistance as it would have only led to him suffering that much more. He tensed every muscle in his body, clenched his sword in his right hand and drew it back to prepare for a swing. The ugly little creature continued its charge. He had his eyes fixated on it, ready. His heart sped up. He felt a strange new sensation, something that he had never before experienced. His senses seemed to sharpen. Everything around him appeared clearer than ever before. His breathing increased. The creature raised its dagger above its head as it reached him. He coldly observed its movement, calculating when to strike. He waved his shield to the left as he swung his right arm forward in an arch. The sword hit its target at precisely the right angle, when it was straight out infront of him, at the point of maximum momentum. He felt the blade hit the thick skull of his opponent, felt it shatter the bone and slice the soft interior. The creature fell to the floor with a thump. He relaxed, letting his sword and shield hang loosely by his side as he examined his first kill. He had cleaved the top of its cranium clean off. Dark blood and a thick yellow goo was oozing out of the dissected brain matter and onto the floor. He studied it with interest. He had won his first fight. This pleased him greatly, while also puzzling him. He had never received any kind of training, yet his mind had been so at ease, his body executing his commands with perfect precision. He decided to not dwell on this, and even if he hadn't he wouldn't have had time to, seeing as a group of four much larger and much more fearsome looking monsters was running straight at him, wielding massive claymores and axes.
He felt no fear gripping him, telling him that this was bad. He felt no anxiety tingling in his spine, comprimising his mind and body. He felt a tide of calmness rising within him. He closed his eyes, allowed his neck to loosen up. He took a deep, cleansing breath, felt the air in his lungs as the oxygen was passed into his bloodstream where it was send to his brain, granting him clarity. He opened his eyes. The four monsters were nearing. He met their enraged stares with a cold gaze. His shield and sword still hanging by his side, his mouth formed a smile. He felt it now. He knew what it was and what it could do. Letting out a maniac laugh, he felt invincible. The monsters jumped him. He smashed the first one in the face with his shield, sending it sprawling to the floor with blood squirting out of what was presumably its nose. His body was faster than theirs. His thoughts were quicker than theirs. In what must have looked like a blur to any spectator, he danced around his opponents, slashing with his sword and either avoiding or blocking their every blow. With a steady thrust, he pierced the heart of one enemy, withdrew his blade and spun around to cut the throat of another. Remaining was the one with the smashed nose and one with a large axe. They didn't attack, instead they just stood there, staring, open mouthed and in shock. He walked to them and jammed his sword straight into the eyeball and all the way through the skull of the one he had previously smacked in the face. There was one left. He felt like an eagle soaring in the sky. Like a wolf circling its prey. Blood drunk. The monster looked helpless despite its massive size and imposing weaponry, and of course it was. He walked slowly, enjoying the power play. It stared at him pleadingly, but did not actually mutter any words. He lifted his sword, pointing it at the creature's belly. He looked the monster in the eyes as he poked his blade through its skin and into its stomach, and swiftly made a large horizontal incision, out of which the monster's bowels fell. It fell to its knees, making pathetic whelping sounds, bubbly foam spewing from its mouth. He decapitated the disgusting creature.
He quickly scanned the area. There seemed to be no incoming threats. With the fighting, he had moved out of sight of the main battle. He went back and found that it was still raging. New monsters and demons appeared to have joined, while the holy warriors were as few as before, and one even appeared to have fallen. He was no longer certain of the outcome. He rushed to their aid. Not sure he could adjust to their peculiar way of fighting as one, he placed himself at the very edge of the group and started hacking and slashing away. As the fight wore on, there seemed to be no end in sight. There was a seemingly endless mass of monsters just itching to be made into corpses. He was happy to oblige them. Being new on the battlefield, he made a mistake. He drove forward too eagerly, pushed too hard until he found himself trapped with horrible monsters all around him. Slashing left and right, spinning around as if possessed, he fought as hard as he possibly could. Enemy after enemy fell under his blade, the ground was awash with blood. No matter how fast he fought, how many he slay, they just kept coming from all directions. They were closing in on him and there was nothing he could do. He felt a tinge of desperation. No, this could not be it. He violently denied the presence of any emotion that threatened his pristine mental landscape of cold, calculated death dealing. He needed something drastic to happen. Anything. The distance between him and the wall of monsters was closing. It would not be long before they reached him. He sped up his slashing, but it only served to slightly delay the inevitable, and he knew it. Feeling his muscles beginning to tire from the relentless onslaught, he reached deep within himself for strength, for power. Somewhere, buried beneath his memories and dreams, hidden away in a place that only unwavering determination could unlock, he touched upon it. That special something that he had felt a glimpse of earlier when entering into his first battles. It was not an altogether pleasant sensation, infact, simply poking the surface caused his mind to retract in painful convulsions, but he needed it now. He lashed out ferociously and killed several enemies, but as soon as they had even hit the ground, new ones had taken their places. He grit his teeth and found the place within his mind once more. Biting down hard, he made his decision and tapped into it.
The pain was unreal. His blood felt as if it had been brought to a boil, as if liquid fire was coursing through his veins. He was shaking violently and bit his tongue. This was way beyond any physical torture he had ever endured. He faced the sky and roared in agony, the monsters nearest him stopped in their tracks. Suddenly, he felt the pain being overwritten by an overwhelming sense of power. The pain was still there, but the almost euphoric rush of power masked it to a degree. It was enough that he could focus once more. He could sense every living being in his vicinity, monsters aswell as allies. They were easy to tell apart. With ease and great speed, he mentally marked all of the enemies in the area while continuing to lay down a storm of steel in a circle around him. Mentally holding on to his targets, he allowed the smoldering energy within him to seep out and reach his enemies. He could feel their surprise at his touch. He could feel their discomfort that slowly grew into searing pain. He heard their screams and saw them fall to the ground, one by one, writhing in agony, their every cell feeling as if it had been lit on fire. The entire horde of enemies collapsed. He felt his life force being drained, converted to death and then channeled into their bodies and minds. Blood began to leak out of their pores, their noses, eyes and mouths. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, he grew weaker by the moment, but he had to persevere. Focusing his mind, concentrating, meditating on death he continued his mental assault. The Angels had stopped fighting, as there was no one left standing. Instead, they stood still in their places, marveling at this former slave who was at this very moment standing in the midst of a hundred writhing monsters, his eyes closed, face turned to the ground, trembling violently. He felt on the verge of passing out, but he knew that he could keep going, knew that he was capable of enduring for as long as he had to. He focused harder, letting the concept of death complete fill his mind as to increase the intensity of his channeling. Sensing that his victims were on the brink of death, he pushed harder, forcing himself to give in completely, using every last resource his body and mind could muster to quench the life of his foes. A brilliant surge of pure escstasy ran through him as he finally pushed it over the edge. All around him, the bodies of monsters, demons and other hellspawn let out high pitched screams in beautiful synchronicity, it was like music to his ears. In a macabre eruption of blood and guts, the entire horde had their bones ripped from their bodies. Flesh, skin and muscle tissue ruptured as the bones splintered and came flying out in all directions. A gigantic splashing sound was heard and then all was quiet.
He took a slightly wavering breath. Breathed out. Took another breath, this time more controlled. With a sinister, satisfied grin, he turned to face the Angels. Combat
As strong and physically adept combatants, Shades stride into battle covered from head to toe in heavy platemail, often boasting the colors of black and red. They usually prefer a sturdy shield and a one-handed weapon, as it complements their uncompromising and durable nature. When engaging their enemies, Shades generally do so in close range, swiftly cutting down some foes and sacrificing portions of their own life force to destroy others. Sample AbilitiesDark Meditation:
When activated, this ability stops your total passive health regeneration. Instead, you now deal 200% of your total passive health regeneration as shadow damage to all enemies within 10 yardsMisanthropy:
A powerful channeled attack that strikes your target with your weapon for 150% weapon damage at a 100% increased attack speed. While channeling you are immobile and exceptionally vulnerable, having your armor decreased by 50% and all magical resistances decreased by 40%All Or Nothing:
Instantly smite an enemy with a burst of shadow, dealing 400% weapon damage as shadow damage. If All Or Nothing does not kill the enemy, you take 800% weapon damage as shadow damageShield Bash:
Violently bash your opponent in the face with your shield, dealing 120% weapon damage and stunning them for 2 seconds. This skill has a 15 second cooldownGrit:
When carrying a shield, increases your armor by 200% and all magical resistances by 80%Bathing in Blood:
Gain 5% of all damage done as health. In addition, every time you kill an enemy, you gain 5% of your maximum health over 5 seconds. This ability stacks up to 3 times for a total of 15% of maximum health regenerated over 5 seconds. Every time Bathing in Blood becomes active, it resets the timer on the previousConcept Art*Jeg er desværre ret elendig til at tegne. Dette er første forsøg siden 5. klasse eller deromkring. Besluttede at inkludere den alligevel, da jeg går ud fra at det i det mindste ikke kan trække den generelle vurdering af bidraget ned