Stil. Champion style basic attacks clrsch.com · Champion style png · Champion style abilities clrsch.com Kurzgeschichte. KAISA EXOSUIT clrsch.com Die Range ihrer Auto-Attacks wurde auf dem PBE von auf erhöht und auch ihre Q-Fähigkeit Icathian Rain hat nun mit statt Conquering Sands (Q): Sand soldier damage decreased to Attack range decreased to units from ; Draw A Bead (P): Attack range.
League of Legends - Patch 8.5 führt neuen Champion Kai'Sa einStil. Champion style basic attacks clrsch.com · Champion style png · Champion style abilities clrsch.com Kurzgeschichte. KAISA EXOSUIT clrsch.com R. Health Points: Mana: Damage: Attack Range: Armor: (+/per level). (+38/per level). (+/per level). (+/per level). Die Range ihrer Auto-Attacks wurde auf dem PBE von auf erhöht und auch ihre Q-Fähigkeit Icathian Rain hat nun mit statt
Es kann auГerdem Aufschluss darГber geben, mit Kaisa Attack Range Einsatz Kaisa Attack Range Verluste wieder gutzumachen. - Willkommen bei GameStar!Dies kann folgende Ursachen haben: 1.
Additionally, the cooldown is refunded by 50 percent if you hit a champion with it. The triple stack effectively means that nailing a champ with Void Seeker will allow you to ult in and auto only once to proc your percent of health passive.
Not too far away, her village sleeps on unaware, for the most part. Curiosity had no doubt gotten the better of this little girl.
So many stories, fables both frightening and fantastical. The voidling beasts hunting in the dead of night, calling to one another.
She just wanted to see for herself. See what lurks beyond the rocks, see the thing her people both fear and adore at the same time.
She stands up proudly, still brandishing the arrow. I came to protect my family from the monster. None of them do.
All these things her people have done to rid themselves of the creatures, they were just ringing the dinner bell. You need to make them understand.
No more dancing beneath the new moon. And no more animals tied to stakes. The Void has no mercy to offer—it feeds or it dies. The day I came to understand this, was when I knew I had a chance.
I knew they would come. By instinct, the carapace draws over my face. Illi stares up at me. All but two of them are dead.
Only the capable live out here. I can see where she got her bravery. Their torches twinkle in the night. The girl who came back! She looks up at me again, confused.
For every little girl like Illi, there are ten others who would run the other way. Or worse. I know what most people say about me. Ten years ago, I was only Kaisa—very much like Illi, hopeful about a future as limitless as the stars in the night sky.
That future died the day the Void dragged me down. The needles are back. Illi releases my hand just as my luminous weapons materialize over my arms.
I usher her forwards, keeping my eyes trained on the villagers. They will need you. The Void has taken so much from me, but I refuse to let it take everything.
These moments, where kindness and humanity shine through, where innocence and trust extinguish fear—they fill me with hope that we can defeat the rivers of timeless poison that flow beneath the world.
My eyes only ever saw in degrees of darkness, but the sight I now have shows me much more than I ever knew was possible.
The only light is the faint glow smoldering in the bulbous pods growing out of my shoulders. It clings to my skin, all across my body, as if a thousand tiny hooks are digging into my flesh.
I used to think I could hear it whispering in my head as it grew and spread across my body, but I think that was just my own voice trying to keep me from going mad from pain and loneliness.
The rock beneath me is smooth and glassy, made so not by the flow of molten rock, but by the passage of the things that live deep in the earth as they ooze up from below like worms through a rotten honeyfruit.
The passing of years lessens the horrors of the past. When I was little more than a babe in arms, I remember seeing a swarm of pack-hunting kmiros bring down a wounded skallashi.
It was just their nature. The creatures of the surface kill to eat. Their sudden appearance shifts my vision and I see the radiant threads of magic in his blood as it flows around his body.
Wisps of it lift into the air with every panicked breath and every tear that rolls down his cheeks.
It would be a mercy to just plunge my blades of light into his body than to have his soul be unmade by the monsters below.
I push down the murderous urges of the suit, and the glow fades from my stiffened fingers. I take a shuddering breath, closing them into fists.
The rock of the tunnel shimmers like a cave ceiling over an underground lake, rippling with light from a dimension unknown to the races of the surface.
It looks like a glowing ocean of sickly light, swirling in a constant state of unraveling and renewal. Hunched spines unfold, grasping limbs stretch, and hooked claws form in the liquid insanity, lunatic evolution weaving translucent monsters into being with shrieking, piercing birth-screams.
My voice is distorted through the molded mask of the suit—a wet, animal snarl that sounds like no mortal tongue. He shakes his head. With a thought, the chitinous plates of my helm peel back, sliding over one another as they unfold like the carapace of an insect retracting its wings.
The light swells and he turns toward the abyss. The swarming, growing things within it are reaching up to us, and his eyes widen in fear as he finally sees why I brought him here.
Thousands of chittering monsters, rising from an ocean of madness that reaches to the heart of the world and beyond.
All I know is that it births an endless horde of misbegotten nightmares that claw their way up through the rock with the implacable urge to kill and unmake the world above.
I watch the hetman scramble up to the light of the surface, then turn as I hear the scrape of claws on rock behind me. Arms that would be impossible in nature hook over the edge of the abyss, dragging a monstrous horror of rasping armor plates, bony protrusions, and flesh the color of something stillborn.
Blade limbs unfold from its pallid belly, and a lipless mouth tears open across its throat, a wide gash of gleaming white fangs and drooling ichor.
Others quickly follow it, smaller, but just as vicious. Their very presence distorts the air, and slivers of dissolving matter rise like black smoke from the rock beneath their claws.
Once, I fought such urges, but I understand now that they kept me alive, that they allow me to fight back. The plates molded to my shoulders shift and reshape as the glowing pods snap up.
Blinding light builds within them, and I shriek as a painful flurry of searing bolts streak toward the creatures. I sprint forward, snapping my arms out and wreathing my hands in blades of light.
I vault into the air, pushing off the tunnel wall to blast the larger horror with pulsing streams of violet fire.
Its body tears open and tar-black ichor spills out. I land in their midst and roll under its blades, rising to a crouch and unleashing another stream of bolts.
They burn its flesh with incandescent fury, as though fire conjured from their own kind is more lethal than any other.
It draws the blood of the smaller creatures up into its limbs, drinking their very essence. Webs of light and twitching matter knit its flesh together, like a weaver sewing a torn blanket.
Its huge bulk convulses, rippling as it reforms wounded flesh and pushes out new limbs, hardening areas of weakness. Burning tendrils of dark light spray from its splitting flesh, cracking like whips against the ground.
Solid rock runs like wax as its very permanence is undone. One lash glances against my knee, and I stumble as a portion of my armor bleeds off in a bloom of black smoke.
I see my skin beneath, bleached of life and vitality, like the blind reptiles that make their burrows beneath the desert crags.
A thing almost twice my size barrels me from my feet. Its claws tear at my chest, its teeth snapping shut over my head.
Its teeth cut deep grooves in my faceplate, and I look down its thrashing, tooth-filled gullet as its proboscis tongue seeks a way in.
I jam my fists against its body and blast a torrent of purple fire into its body until it can contain no more.
It explodes in a welter of bony cartilage and unnatural meat, and my suit feeds on the unleashed energies of its death.
Claws and teeth slash and bite. I roll aside, more violet flame jetting from my hands. I leap and twist away from their attacks.
Sheer weight of numbers works in their favor, and more of the creatures are swarming over the edge of the abyss. They see me as something of their world, but also as something they must destroy.
Its power drives them back, giving me space to breathe. I see a path, and take it. I weave through them, leaving a trail of sundered bodies in my wake.
My speed is uncanny. I sometimes forget what the sun looks like, or how we used to follow the shadows to know what part of the day we were in.
For someone born of the burning sands to forget the sun makes me want to cry. I have memories of its blazing light reflecting on water, of a golden eye in the sky, and joyous heat filling my chest with every breath.
The creatures from the abyss are still after me, filling the tunnels behind me with their screeching, clawing bodies.
I try not to think of their endless numbers. I go there sometimes, just to remember what it feels like to see the sky above me.
The longer I spend there, the more I feel its air start to burn me. If I can just hold on to the part of me that was a little girl once, I can turn the awful things that have happened to me into something good, something noble.
I sense it almost immediately, a turn in their purpose. My armor makes me faster than them, and I move through the tunnels like a ghost, taking the crooked paths that only I know about.
I feel the ferocity of the chase fade as I circle around, climbing back to the surface and feeling the hot tension of the world above.
Beneath me are neat and ordered streets, running between finely made buildings of sun-baked bricks. The sounds of laughter drift up to me on the spire.
The inner surfaces of my armor clamp down hard on my flesh, and I sink to one knee with the pain of it. Then I hear the cries of alarm spread as they see my armored form in their midst.
I showed him! I took him to see the horrors below. I wanted him to feel the terror of their very existence and to carry that terror back to his people.
Men and women scatter before me, terrified despite the weapons they carry. The last time I saw him, he was terrified, but his terror has turned to hate.
Underneath the smells of the settlement, I feel the growing presence of the Void. Wherever you walk, the monsters follow.
I hold my hand up before me, seeing the hair-fine threads of violet light shimmering in the sculpted plates of my armor. I assert my will, and the veins of light fade.
He swings his sword, but I block it easily. I circle him as he swings again and again. The townsfolk are gathered around me, screaming at their leader to strike a deathblow.
My armor responds to his every attack and their aggression, filling my body with the urge to fight, to kill. I feel anger and betrayal harden my heart to them.
Why should I fight to save them? To the young mothers clutching newborns to their breasts. And beyond even them, to the thousand daily displays of love and the small acts of kindness that go unnoticed every day in the world.
But every war requires sacrifice. I turn a full circle. Everyone is looking to the hetman. I block yet another clumsy swing, and as his sword goes wide, I spin inside his guard to hammer my light-bladed fists against his chest.
Searing energy pours into him, filling his body with light. His every vein, nerve ending, and bone burns with searing brilliance for an instant before his body explodes.
I feel the nearness of the Void as a terrible, twisting pain in my gut. Answers go live every other Thursday at pm PT. Attack Range is perhaps the most powerful stat in League of Legends.
The corollary of that, given that every champion needs to be balanced around comparable power budgets, is that the more attack range a champion has, the less power we can give them in the rest of their kits.
Our champions need to be interactive and possess meaningful weaknesses, so being outranged by most other marksmen felt like a reasonable approach.
On the other hand, Kalista and Tristana are two champions that have frequently lacked meaningful weaknesses. Our approach in the past has been to tweak values like base damages or attack speed scaling, which has appeared to work in the short term, but often just deferred the problem to reappear in a few months.
Instead of watering down the strengths of these champions, we opted to preserve what is unique about them and instead create new weaknesses with Attack Range reductions.