Nalrok_AthZim

It works better in Poison Gas Trap, if you have it.

Don't know if it's been posted, but the recent interview with War Witch confirmed BaBs is gone.

Drop OG. Use Cloak of Fear instead.

Somewhere way the heck outside of Austin, Texas...


The first thing they heard was the siren. It started low, and exploded into a loud, multi-voiced scream of terror just like it did every Saturday morning when it was tested. Except this time, it wasn't a test. Jayce Walker shot out of his bed, his steely blue eyes locking to his window. Outside was his worst nightmare. Wind, dirt and debris swept past his house at alarming speeds. In the distance was the one thing he'd feared all his life: a Texas tornado. It loomed on the horizon like a giant tear in the sky, warping and undulating and ripping anything in it's path to shreds. The worst part was it was growing, and fast. It was fast, and it was heading toward his plot of land.

At age 30 Jayce was a fine example of Texas cowboy; 6'4", built like a truck, eyes that could send skirts flying to the floor, hair the color of rich soil and a handlebar mutton-stache that could probably stop a train. He was the kind of man who never backed down, never backed off, and refused to change (or let change) his word once it was spoken. His years of raising cattle and horses and building his own worksheds had left him spry and tough, and he was going to need every last bit of that to make it out of this situation alive.

"MANDY! MANDY WAKE UP," Jayce called behind him. His sister Mandy had decided to stay the weekend on her way to Dallas to visit their family. He bolted through the handmade wood halls and found his sister stuffing precious keepsakes into her bag.

"Holy HELL, Jaycey! Where on earth did this thing come from," Mandy yelled above the din.

"Damn if I know babe, but we gotta get the hell outta here! Get up, c'mon, get out to the truck!" Jayce grabbed a handful of her bags and hoisted them on to his shoulder, yanking her out of the room and towards the front door. He kicked the door open, shattering the frame and heaved the bags into the bed of his burgundy Ford F-350, shooing his sister towards the vehicle while he put on a pair of jeans and planted his beloved cowboy hat on his head. He heard the door of the truck slam and he ran to the driver's side.

"Alright, just one last thing," he said as he closed the door. Staring intently into his rearview, he waited.

"Jayce just go, he's too old! We're gonna die if we wait any more," Mandy yelled.

"Dammit Mandy, I can't let him die in that thing!" Jayce swallowed hard. The twister was far bigger now, he could see it over his house. "... damn it all, damn it to hell! Mandy take the wheel, I'm going to get him!"

"Like hell you are, Jayce Kenneth Walker! You drive ri--"

"TAKE THE WHEEL," Jayce bellowed as he ran out of the truck and back into the house. Behind him, the engine roared to life. Though the hall, into the kitchen, into the den. There he was, fast asleep. Tucked snugly into his bed was Mack, Jayce's beloved old Golden Retreiver, and he was as deaf as ever. Jayce shook him awake. "C'mon ol' buddy! Wake up, I said wake up!" Mack jerked to life and let out a surprised "Arrooof!" Jayce laughed and patted Mack's butt. "Git, git outside and get in the truck!" A section of roof tore off and was sucked upward. Mack saw this and wasted no time in dashing out of the house faster than he'd ever moved in his long doggy life. Jayce wasn't far behind, screaming "GO, GO GO MANDY GO! DRIVE DANGIT, DRIVE!"

He watched Mack make a leap of pooch faith into the bed of his truck, landing in a heap among the bags and clothing. The truck was pulling away and he just had to--

Jayce felt himself slip. His legs still ran as fast as they could, scraping the ground frantically. "SON OF A GAD-DANG BRUSH FIRE," Jayce roared as he watched the ground rush away from him, the truck driving away and getting smaller. He looked down and watched his home explode into splinters, and only when he saw that did he realize where he was.

Hand on his hat, being whipped around like a ragdoll, Jayce was in the heart of the tornado having been sucked up off the ground just after rescuing his pup and his sister. Well dangit, I'm screwed, he thought to himself as his carport flew past him. But then his brow furrowed, and he gritted his teeth. "Naw," he said, the noise silent in the roar of the twister. "Naw, I ain't gonna die today. Not today, not tomorrow, not 'til I'm old 'n takin' up space in the old folks home! I ain't dyin' today!" He began to thrash, punching and kicking in every direction, one hand still holding his hat to his head. A chunk of wood smacked him square in the back, and he snarled at it. "No you don't!" He reached out to grasp the board, and missed.

But he grabbed something else. He looked up, and saw what looked like a strand of the tornado gripped firmly in his hand. A wild grin slapped itself on his face, and he yanked on the strand as hard as he could. The twister began to howl, as if he'd found it's heart and was causing it pain. Jayce's heart was pounding, his adrenaline at max, his eyes wide and his smile as big as it had ever been. He swung one leg over the strand of cyclone and straddled it, holding on for dear sweet life as he tore his hat from his head and spun it in the air. With the tornado being viciously ridden like a six-story bucking bronco made entirely of mother nature's fury, Jayce could think of only one thing to say as he stretched out the arm holding his hat and arched himself backwards.

"YEEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAWWWWWW!!! RIDE 'EM COWBOOOAAAAAYYY!"

And then it was gone. The sun broke through the clouds, the debris fell to the ground, and Jayce found himself flying through the air like a bottle rocket on the fourth of July.

"Dangit," he said just before smashing through the roof of a barn he'd never seen before.

-------------------

The light woke him up. It was a streak of angry sunlight that had been inching it's way across his face for a few hours now, pouring through one of the many splinters he'd made on his way into the barn. Under him was an enormous bale of hay, and a few broken boards. Surprisingly, he seemed to be alright.

"Well hot-dang there boy! If that wasn't the most incredible thing I ever seen in my life, I don't know what was, I tell you what," a voice said. Jayce looked up to see a man in his late 50's with a very impressive mustache dressed in leathers and denim holding his beloved hat. "This fine hat yours, son?"

"Y-yeah. Thankya sir, but... what'n the Sam Houston heck happened out there?" He plopped his hat back on his head and groaned; he was sore and stiff.

"You don't know? Hee-heeeee-yah, you rode that twister like a champ! I heard that 'yee-haw' of yours from here, and then a few seconds later you smashed a hole in mah barn!" The old man laughed, sitting down on a stool and grinning from ear to ear.

"Well I'm right sorry sir, I didn't mean harm. I don't know what happened, I just remember grabbin' on and holdin' on."

"Son, I ain't seen twister-wranglin' like that since I started doin' it back in the good ol' days. Now, I think you may have what it takes to be a legend like me."

Jayce's eyes went wide. Now he knew why this man seemed so familiar. Images of storybooks, of pictures, of dreams went through his head. Tall tales his pappy had told him as bedtime stories, books he'd read when he was a teenager, the old movie he'd kept on his shelf. "Holy shoot, you're--"

"Pecos Bill, boy!" The man laughed and clapped Jayce on the shoulder. "Yessirree! Hah! Bet you thought I was just a story, yeah? Nope!" He laughed still, and pulled Jayce to his feet. "C'mon out here. What's your name, son?"

"Jayce Kenneth Walker, sir. Had a ranch and raised horses."

"Well Mr. Jayce Kenneth Walker, I think you're gonna be the next legend of the Old West. You see that little speck way out there on the horizon?"

"Yessir."

"That's your place. You got thrown two counties, Jayce! And ya lived! Heheheh! You're quick, boy! Quick like the wind, and you got fire! Just like a good Texas summer!"

Jayce turned around to reply, but Pecos Bill was gone. So was the barn. So was everything. He was in the middle of a sandy wasteland, miles from civilization. He held up his hand, and watched in awe as fire the color of sand rippled up from his elbows. In seconds, his whole body was engulfed, burning like a torch. But he was fine. His clothes were fine, and he felt no heat. His eyes traveled up, where he noticed a chunk of his house falling towards him.

With a lightning-quick leap, and a spinning kick, Jayce shot up like a rocket and broke the large chunk of wall clean in half with a solid kick. He landed, ablaze with desert flame and stunned by his sudden quickness.

Quick like the wind, and you got fire! Just like a good Texas summer!

A burgundy truck drove by. Jayce grinned and took off sprinting towards it, gaining on it like a windstorm.

((Texas Rattlesnake, my MA/Fire Scrapper.))

I doubt it will ever happen.

Now we know where BaBs went.

Was it really that hard to tell us? We had to get it from an outside source?

I'd love to see the Kheldian PPD death emotes, but colorable. Example: My Dark/Dark/Soul brute faceplants, but starts smoldering with nether tendrils. Then, Soul Transfer.

So what you're telling me is that a Stalker could potentially 2-3 shot an AV with your mechanic?

I don't think so.

EDIT: By the way, a team initiating an attack doesn't knock the stalker out of Hide unless they get hit with a random AoE.

I was a Main Tank in World of Warcraft. I had some of the best gear and mitigation stats for the time I'd put in, but I looked like a troupe of gummi bears decided to vomit all over my clothes. I could tank Onyxia, Ragnaros, and Nefarian, but if I took on two even-level mobs outside of a raid instance I'd be cut apart.

Then Warsong Gulch came out. The game swung harshly towards PvP and I found myself (as a tank spec) utterly useless. Even speccing in to the much-adored (and later nerfed into oblivion) Fury spec I couldn't keep up with the push to get 'Grand Marshal' which took weeks of 20-hour-a-day play and a posse of up to 9 people to help you.

So I cancelled my sub and went to find a new game to keep me occupied. Like others in this thread, I bought the game solely on the Character Creator description etched on the box. I bought City of Villains the day it came out and I have never, ever looked back.

I think the moment I realized this game was truly right for me was when I first took on a cluster of 15 Council in Nerva on my Dark/Dark Brute, who was 29 at the time, and won with 90% of my health intact. He was my first 50 and will always be the most fun character I have.

Or it could have been the 9 other characters I made after my first one, all of whom I still have:

Der Wahnsinn (50 SS/Elec Brute)
Neuronomicon (see sig)
Andret (45 BS/Regen Scrap)
Human Air Horn (38 Sonic/NRG Blaster)
Irrevocable (32 AR/Kin Corr)
Blackjack Anderson (41 MM, deleted and remade as a DP/Dark)
Darwin Terrance (40 Stone/EM Tank)
United Guardian (38 Arch/Dev Blaster)
Korolv (43 Shield/Axe Tanker was originally named Argus Rithdelian)

I haven't crashed yet since installing 10.6.5.

To the tune of Dream Evil's In the Fires of the Sun

My inner power is released
My powers touched by epic win
In this city we've revived
Now the time has come for our first...

Alpha Slot!
Alpha Slot!

With Incarnate power one
We will have our fun
With the 50's we have done right
Our hands will part the skies
The Storm will realize
Like Gods we will become

We've been in the shadows of two beings
One for good, and one for not
They are no longer alone
For we are gods, we will not fear them!

Unlocked!
Alpha Slot!

With Incarnate power one
We will have our fun
With the 50's we have done right
Our hands will part the skies
The Storm will realize
Like Gods we will become!

(Epic freaking guitar solo here)

You can hear, we outcry: the Alpha Slot is nigh!
You can hear, we outcry: the Alpha Slot is mine!

The Alpha Slot is mine!

With Incarnate power one
We will have our fun
With the Alpha Slot we'll rise
Our powers scorch the skies
You now realize
Like Gods we have become!

---

Had to.

Dual Blades, to represent the wings that sliced through the sky.

I say this because I actually made a retro-future DB/WP Brute, with full flight garb and everything, and he was an absolute blast to play. One Thousand Cuts is a great power to tie with propellers.

I would want four Demons. Two Hellfire Gargs, two Ember Demons.

Four Enforcers.

Four Spec Ops.

Six Genin.

I'll throw my hat in here and say I wouldn't want it removed. I have two arcs I'm damn proud of on there, and one of them is still a WIP. I love using my tickets to get random recipes that really make a difference on my characters and I like showing off my work.

Now I'll also admit to PLing at one point in my CoX career.

But, in my defense, have you ever tried getting a Warshade through the low levels? Ugh!

But bear in mind you WILL experience the damage crash.

Mercs/Dark is very strong. Buddy of mine has his at 50 and he's a monster.

Earth Mastery is great for annihilating your target's defense. It's not great for the offensive, but good for a little control and making your opponents easier to hit. I still prefer Energy for PP and SC.