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Vainglory Lore: Baptiste

  • Vainglory
  • |
  • Apr 25, 2017

‘The Passing of the Gendarme’

Baptiste is summoned to the outer world…

 

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The gendarme whistled through his teeth as he patrolled the Crescent City on the shortest night of the year, enjoying the scent of sweet olive and jasmine flowers as he traveled the well-maintained streets of the wealthy neighborhoods. The lights dimmed and yellowed as the crescent curved toward the port, dripping at last into murky lapping seawater. The fresh-faced young soldier felt impervious to harm in his smart uniform and cap, on his well-bred horse with its echoing clips and clops, but most of all with the smart, sharp sword strapped to his belt. The sword glowed with imbued blue magic energy, a rare sight in Crescent City. He enjoyed the way the locals melted into the alleyways in fear as he rode deeper into Islander territory. His nose wrinkled with distaste at the stink of old wood, coffee and fried meat there.

Near the end of his patrol, not far from the back of town, he heard singing. He sighed, clucked his tongue and dismounted. He’d arrived none too soon: A band of Islanders in bright holiday dress crowded the neighborhood square. A batterie drummed and rattled out an increasing tempo as the Islanders sang and danced.

At the center of the reverie danced the widow, a troublemaker who had been arrested a dozen times or more. She swayed out of time with the batterie, her eyes rolled up so that only the whites showed, unnatural noises spilling from her tongue. Between her bare feet sat a steaming, bubbling stew pot.

Papa Baptiste! Rejoins nous!
Papa Baptiste! Rejoins nous!

The gendarme shuddered and led his mount back to the darkness of Islanders’ Alley to observe from the shadows. The law allowed for some frivolity among the native people, in particular this far from the capital of Mont Lille, but the gendarme’s belly twisted with anxiety.

“Are you frightened?”

The gendarme startled and turned toward the deep voice, but behind him the Islanders’ Alley was dark and empty.

“Who’s there?” demanded the gendarme, his voice stern. Only echoing laughter answered him.

Rejoins nous, Papa Baptiste!
Rejoins nous, Papa Baptiste!

The gendarme turned back to the festivities in time to see the widow thrust both her hands into the boiling pot. She did not cry out in pain, and when she brought out fistfuls of rice and black-eyed peas, her skin did not appear burned. The rest of the Islanders crowded around to eat from her palms.

“Ils sont tarés,” whispered the gendarme, shaking his head. “Crazy people!”

“Their queen feeds her children,” whispered the voice, except this time it was right over the gendarme’s shoulder. He spun again, releasing his glowing sword from its sheath. Again there was no one.

Your queen feeds no one.”

This time, the voice came from the direction of the square. Beads of sweat spilled into one another down the young gendarme’s spine. He gathered up his courage and sauntered out into the open square, glowing sword at the ready. “I will have order!” he cried.

He was pleased when the chaos silenced all at once. The batterie stopped, and with it the dancing and chanting and the whirl of bright-colored robes and skirts. The Islanders turned to stare at him as he moved through the milieu. “The party is over. It is time to go home.”

“We are home.”

The gendarme pointed his sword toward the voice and saw only the queen’s statue at the center of the square. It had been erected the year prior and, despite the graffiti defacing it, looked strange and new in comparison to the centuries-old square.

“It is you who has found himself too far from home.”

The ground at the base of the statue rumbled and broke apart. Monstrous hands clawed their way out from the earth, and then the arms and skulls and wide-open horrifying mouths of the shade.

The gendarme’s sword shook and spat blue magic. “This… this is unlawful,” he stammered, but his voice carried no authority. “You shall all be arrested for the un… unlawful use of magic and… and disturbance of the peace!”

“Peace, you say?”

With these words Papa Baptiste appeared, dapper in his top hat and waistcoat, an extravagant scythe resting in his hand, sitting at ease on the base of the statue, the dead settling at his feet.

“We are uninterested in peace,” said Baptiste. His lip curled up into a terrifying smile at the poor young gendarme who backed away in horror.

“What are you?” whispered the gendarme.

“A story,” said Baptiste, taking a goblet of wine from one of the spectres. “A story made real by a thousand tellings.”

The gendarme stumbled, spun, and ran for the alley, but there was a blast of sound and light and pain flooded through him, and he felt as though he were plodding through mud. “Please,” whimpered the gendarme. “I… I…”

“…do not wish to die?” said Baptiste, and then he laughed, a sickening echo of a sound. “Whyever not? Life is a bore. It is death that all await with delicious fear. Death is the great drama, the tragedy, the mystery, the show! Life is pain. Death is relief.”

The gendarme wept and tried to crawl, dirtying his beloved uniform, but found he could not move. He called to his horse but it had run away. The Islanders surrounded him, chanting in low tones.

“Your soul is pinned down and your body’s stuck to it, alas,” murmured Baptiste, sweet as a father calming a babe. “No more struggling now. It is not so terrible to belong to me. Together we will end the reign of the queens, mon cher.”

The shade fled from the feet of Baptiste, and the young gendarme could do nothing as the dead tore the sword away from his hands. At their touch the blue glow diminished, and they set upon him, clawing at him until he gasped his last breaths.

At last, Baptiste deigned to stand over him. “Shhh,” he said, and with a last swing of his scythe, he clipped away the gendarme’s soul. With death came, as Papa Baptiste had promised, relief.


ALTERNATE FATES

‘Scarecrow’ Baptiste

The True Conspiracy

‘Anubis’ Baptiste

Permission to Pass

‘Corsair’ Krul Arrives in a Special Mystery Chest

  • Vainglory
  • |
  • Apr 02, 2017

‘Corsair’ Krul and his undead pirate army has boarded the queen’s galleon in search of a very particular treasure. Read on to discover more about him and how to make him yours! 


CHECK HIM OUT IN GAME: 

 

 


MODEL CHANGES

  • Ornate skull-hilted cutlass
  • New beard style
  • Tricorne pirate hat with feather and parrot skeleton
  • Hook hand & peg leg
  • Treasure: rings on his fingers & gold coin
  • Captain’s waistcoat & striped breeches
  • New weaponry: ship’s cannon & flintlock pistol!

EFFECTS & ANIMATION CHANGES

  • Flintlock pistol crit shots
  • Hook-hand attacks
  • Spectral Smite indicator shows skull & crossbones
  • Cannon effect for Spectral Smite
  • Limping peg leg walk
  • New recall: triumphant sword removal results in sword returning & knocking him off his feet
  • Ghostly sprint when Krul is Empowered by the Shadows!

 


HOW TO GET IT

  • Only available from Mystery Chests until April 19
  • 1-in-20 chance to get this new Legendary skin
  • All Legendary skins replaced with Corsair Krul
  • Otherwise Rare Mystery Chest drops apply
  • Afterward, the skins will be available for direct purchase for 3599 ICE

ALTERNATE FATE LORE

Tommy

On that night, us on the queen’s galleon all woke screaming from nightmares. The navymen shrugged it off but the islanders said it was death come hunting. Me and my lowlife rigging brothers climbed the ratlines and told tall tales to make each other brave: I’d punched the nose of a shark, I said, and another had slept through a hurricane in a crow’s nest, and another claimed he’d out-argued the prosecution at his thieving trail.

That’s when the wind died. The sea went smooth as glass, like nothing we’d ever seen. We swung the bracers around trying to catch any breeze at all, dread pooling up behind our tongues.

Then the water rippled and a corsair ship rose from the sea, a ghost itself, outlined in transparent green, fish flapping away from the churning water.

We watched in terror as the dead spilled off the deck of the ship and walked on the water toward us. They moaned with inhuman suffering, hundreds of bent and twisted horrors on the wrong side of the Netherworld.

“Run out the guns!” cried the captain. He was a seasoned seaman who’d faced pirates before, even wasted one and took his parrot as a prize, but there was terror in his eyes while the navymen manned and loaded the cannons. The blasts split apart the quiet, but the balls sailed straight through the corsair ship, splashing in the water behind.

The dead clawed their way up the side of the galleon and spilled over onto the deck. The navymen drew their swords and the islanders wielded sharp sailing knives, but they were no match for the ghost pirates; against them, gunpowder and blades were useless.

My lowlife brothers and me all went hiding. We’d none of us seen a real fight before, no matter our bragging, and didn’t know the right from wrong end of a pistol. Me, I got to the captain’s cabin and hid, trembling, in a wardrobe, unaware of the damned captain’s parrot beside me until it ruffled its feathers and squawked.

“Never rest! Always restless!”

“Shh!” I hissed at it.

My legs cramped up while I listened to the battle above. Didn’t take long before the gunpowder runners’ steps stopped, and then the pistol and cannon fire died, and then there were only the moans and sighs of the dead, and for sure I was done for the living world.

The parrot climbed the bars of its little cage and poked its head through. “No peace for you! No peace for you!” it squawked.

Then he came. His footsteps were different, one being booted and the other wood striking wood, and me being the shark puncher started to cry as the cursed pirate, him they call Corsair Krul, burst into the captain’s cabin.

Through the cracks in the wardrobe could be seen the terrifying monster limping his way through the cabin, just like the legends said, handsome through the decay, decked in weathered finery, rings littering his bony claws, and that cursed cutlass stabbed straight through his ribcage. He peeked into the captain’s chests but bypassed the gold and the jewels. He turned to go, but then:

“Enter the horror! Enter the horror!” cried the parrot.

Corsair Krul yanked open the wardrobe doors and stared down at me, the sniveling coward rigging boy. “There you are,” he growled. He reached into the wardrobe and filled it with his death-cold so that my teeth chattered when I begged for my life.

But instead of clawing the life out of me, he unlocked the parrot’s cage.

“Tommy,” said the pirate. “How I’ve missed you.”

The bird hopped right out and onto his hat, at which time all its feathers fell out, and its skin too, so that it was just a parrot skelly pacing along the pirate’s tricorne, squawking with glee, “Your mistake! Your mistake!”

And Corsair Krul, swear on my mama, walked straight out, and took only Tommy the Parrot with him while his crew ransacked the rest, and only I and my hidden rigging brothers were left to man the sails back home.


Read Krul’s canon lore:

The Complete Collection


WALLPAPERS

 

Introducing the Rare ‘Elite Force’ Baron Skin!

  • Vainglory
  • |
  • Mar 22, 2017

 

‘Elite Force’ Baron descends with wings of fire into the Halcyon Well to find his scout overwhelmed by Churn Worms! 


CHECK HIM OUT IN GAME: 


MODEL & EFFECT CHANGES

  • Black and gold exo-armor
  • Flight helmet with holographic display
  • Thrusters ignite to create flaming plasma ion wings when Jump Jets are in use
  • Multi-ordinance launcher

 


ALTERNATE FATE LORE

Part I: The Voices

Disarm!

Twenty meters down the Halcyon Well, Baron’s navigation and communication systems malfunctioned. He watched the HUD on his visor flash with readouts as he descended, his thrusters burning, into the glowing blue crystal cave. “Manual override,” he said, and the rocket launchers, porcupine mortars and ion cannon blinked online.

“Surface scan,” he said.

The HUD flashed warnings, revealing movement everywhere. “Locate scout,” said Baron.

“Go back!”

The HUD pinpointed Idris’ location in the center of a mass of what looked like glowing, spiked worms the size of his arm, their heads all mouth. His spear swung and his chakram flew in a whirl of hot glowing blood. “Idris!” Baron called. “Hang on, we’ll get you out!”

“No.” The chakram flew and returned again, but Idris sank into the sand, the Churn worms’ mouths locked onto his armor. “I should not have tempted the Churn. You must leave me and abort the mission.”

“I don’t leave men behind.” Baron’s jets lowered him onto the soft ground. Churn worms wriggled and writhed, bursting through the sand and slithering out of the hole at the center of the cave. They snapped their jaws and latched onto his exo-armor, spiraling their long spiked bodies up his legs as he trudged toward Idris.

“It is too late,” Idris said, his calm voice eerie and alien through his mask. He sheathed his spear and chakram and allowed himself to be pulled down.

A Churn worm snapped at Baron’s visor, its mouth stretched wide, so that his vision was blocked by the beast’s glistening maw. He peeled the worm off and threw it.

Idris mumbled to himself as the Churn worms encircled him.

Baron dug through the sand and found the rope secured to Idris’ waist. In the reflection of his visor his mouth was set in a grim line, marred by glistening worm mucus. “Listen to me, buddy. You with me?” He leaned back and pulled. “I can obliterate everything in here, but you need to get behind me. I can’t pull you out unless you fight your way up.”

Idris shook his head with violence, as if waking from a dream.

“Arm Ion Cannon,” said Baron. The HUD flashed:

CANNON ARMED.

“Lock target,” he said, and a countdown blinked on the HUD.

Baron pulled the rope fist over fist, but Idris was too deep. “Fifteen seconds!” Worms wrapped around his armored hands and the rope fell. “Don’t give up on me!”

“I cannot fight.” Idris unclipped the rope from his waist and tossed it aside. He unwound a worm from his neck, stared at it face to face, then pulled it apart with a spray of shimmering blue blood.

“Disarm Ion Cannon!” called Baron. The HUD flashed, scrambled, turned to static.

The countdown continued.

“Disarm all weapons!”

The HUD flashed:

CANNON ARMED.

MULTI-ORDINANCE LAUNCHER ARMED.

“Disarm! Disarm!” But the countdown continued to blink down.

3… 2… 1…

The cannon’s recoil knocked Baron back. The sand where Idris had been lit up with the power of the orbital strike. Rockets launched and porcupine mortars arced high, falling with deafening power. Crystal stalagmites burst into shards; stalactites cracked and fell from the ceiling. Worms, blasted to death, rained down from the cave walls with sickening splats.

Baron found his feet and cursed, scanning the killzone for life. Smoke escaped down the hole in the cave’s center as if inhaled.

“That was close.”

Baron whirled around as Idris jumped off his back. The desert warrior surveyed the damage, kicking away a pile of dead worms, unearthing a Shatterglass.

“I thought… how did you…?” Baron stuttered.

“We should not linger here. I will take however many of these I can carry.”

“The Churn is creating an electromagnetic field that is disrupting my armor functions.” Baron stomped into a gruesome mess of dead Churn worms. “If my jets function, I can -”

From deep down, far below them, came a roar full of smoke and mist, a sound that froze them both in place.


Read Baron’s canon lore:

The Complete Collection


WALLPAPERS

 

Introducing the Rare ‘Elite Force’ Idris Skin!

  • Vainglory
  • |
  • Mar 15, 2017

 

The Churn whispers to ‘Elite Force’ Idris as he scouts inside the most mysterious place on the Fold: the Halcyon Well. Will he succumb to the evil that lives within him?


CHECK HIM OUT IN GAME: 


MODEL CHANGES

  • Three-pointed glowing spear
  • Environmentally sealed ballistic armor and mask
  • HMD combat helmet with multi-spectrum optical cameras
  • Geometrical armor patterns

 


ALTERNATE FATE LORE

The Voices

Idris…

The tech alliance gathered at the Halcyon Well, their somber faces hidden behind masks. Idris climbed onto the lip of the well and stared through his own tactical mask into the well’s swirling mist, shaking his head to remove the voices from his mind.

Come down to us.

A mercenary clipped a rope to his waist and gave instructions. “I’ll hold onto you. Pull once for stop. Two pulls for all’s well. Three for more slack. Four or more for emergency.”

Idris climbed inside the well without a word and dangled as the rope lowered him into the mist, leaving the alliance behind. In the fog he could not see his gloved hands by his face. His helmet mount displayed only fog, and he was glad for his sealed armor.

He expected darkness, but instead a faint blue glow shone through the mist, and the whispers grew louder:

We have waited so long for you.

The mist dispersed as the well opened into a large cave, stalagmites and stalactites jutting down and up from the floor and ceiling, all pure blue crystal, glowing with the power that flowed upward from a hole blasted in the center.

He swung to land on a jagged stalagmite, then switched on his multi-spectrum optical helmet camera. The rope slackened; he pulled on it once and it stopped.

Nothing but tendrils of mist moved on the helmet display. He climbed down to the floor, yanked three times for more slack on the rope, and scouted around the crystal teeth of the cave. The voices echoed off of the walls, coming from every direction:

You left us too long. Never leave us again.

At the edge of the hole in the ground, blasted open millennia ago by the seraphim, Idris stared down into the foggy, roiling abyss of the Churn. There, half-buried in sand, he saw what he had come to find, what would power their tech for far longer than the shards mined from the surface: a crystal worn into smoothness from constant pressure of the Churn at its origin, infused with so much energy that it shone like a beacon.

The Shatterglass.

Idris plucked up the Shatterglass and then, a step closer to the hole, found another. Then another.

He yanked twice on the rope for All’s Well, and the commander’s jets stirred the glowing fog as he descended into the well.

The voices danced with his mind, beckoning.

You’re so close.

The closer he came to the edge of the hole, the more Shatterglass he found. His foot slid and one of the precious crystals slid into the hole and disappeared. Idris gathered his wits and stepped back.

Don’t go.

The sand quivered under his feet.

Movement played in his peripheral vision. He spun around and something broke free of the sand by his foot, then another, and then more burst from cracks in the cave walls and fell from the ceiling onto his shoulders: a mass of wide-mouthed worms, pulsing with blue energy, their spiny bodies as long as he was tall.

The voices.

They opened their greedy, toothless mouths and clamped onto his feet, pulling him down.

We’re bringing you home, home…

Clearing his mind, he willed himself there, traveling in a blink toward a stalactite with handholds, but there was not enough slack in the rope and he was yanked back. He landed just shy of the sharp point of a stalagmite below and fell onto his back, the worms threading up through the sandy surface and whipping their glowing spiked tails. His breath came fast and hard as he pulled his chakram from his back and swung. The worms on his feet split in halves and the blade returned to him covered in blue goo, but hundreds more replaced them as he yanked the dead monsters from his armor, bursting from every surface to hiss and sing:

You belong with us, with us…

Above, the commander appeared below the mist.

“Go back!” cried Idris, yanking on the rope, one-two-three-four-five-six; he yanked and yanked and it was too late. The commander dropped down into the cave.

Read Part II: Disarm!


Read Idris’ canon lore:

The Complete Collection


WALLPAPERS

 

Vainglory Lore: Halcyon Days!

  • Vainglory
  • |
  • Apr 07, 2017

Egg decorating, flowers blooming, water splashing, Blackfeather crooning under maidens’ windows — Halcyon Days are upon us!


Celebrate Halcyon Days like the Carnies do with a Vainglory Water Party!

From 5PM PDT on April 12 until 12PM PDT on April 17, grab these Opal discounts on ‘Summer Party’ skins!

  • ‘Summer Party’ Krul: 250 Opals NOW 199 Opals
  • ‘Summer Party’ SAW: 250 Opals NOW 199 Opals
  • ‘Summer Party’ Kestrel: 250 Opals NOW 199 Opals
  • Get ALL THREE ‘Summer Party’ skins for just 597 Opals!

Don’t miss Skaarf’s Halcyon Days Egg Art Contest and watch the app for upcoming Halcyon Days promotions!


ALL THE HALCYON DAYS

The titanback barge glides through the choppy water at dawn, the Halcyon Fold a shadow in the distance. Joule and Skye sit by the mech parking area eating sunflower seeds. Glaive and Ringo play the Hand Slaps game… well, Hand and Paw Slaps. Rona sits cross-legged, sharpening an axe, Fortress’ big head resting on her leg. Koshka holds Skaarf’s tail so he won’t jump into the water. Petal and her munions glare at the seed-eaters. Ozo surfs on the titanback’s tail. The corner where Phinn stands dips lower than the others; Blackfeather strums a mandolin.

“Almost herring funeral season,” muses Phinn.

“What are you talking about?” sings Blackfeather.

“You know, Halcyon Days, when you have the herring funeral.”

“Ah, Halcyon Days,” trills Blackfeather. “Snow melting, flowers blooming, days growing longer and warmer, and of course: the kissing contest.”

“The what now?” says Joule.

“The kissing contest, where the men line up to kiss the lady judges, and the winner is the year’s Kiss King. Of course,” brags Blackfeather, “I have held the title of Kiss King five years in a row.”

Joule spits a shell out over the edge. “Ain’t no kissing contests in the Lower Quarter,” she says. “For Halcyon Days, we build robots! Then we have a robot parade, and on the last day, we fight them.”

“Doesn’t that break the robots?”

Joule spins around, dropping her handful of seeds. “Who said that?”

“Over here.” Taka’s fluffy tail appears from under a box. He peeks out, grinning.

“Oh! Well, yeah, the robots break. Fighting breaks things. But we build all new ones the next year.”

“Where I’m from, we do spring cleaning and we get haircuts,” says Taka, and crawls out of the box to reveal a freshly trimmed tail. “The Halcyon Days start when the first cherry blossom appears. The rest bloom soon after, and we all go to the orchards to have picnics under the trees.”

“We hunt for eggs,” pipes up Rona.

“Do eggs hide where you’re from?” asks Glaive, whipping one huge paw over to slam Ringo’s knuckles.

Rona sticks out her tongue. “After the Long Dark, we get a few days of thaw. We dye them bright colors and the Halcyon Skvader hides the eggs in the longhouses…”

“Skuv-what?” says Joule.

“…and the children search for them.”

One of Fortress’ legs kicks in his sleep.

Glaive slams Ringo’s hand again. “During the Halcyon Days festival, Grangor kits team up to test themselves on the War Path. They may not leave the Path until one team is beaten all the way back. It is a good warmup after months of being stuck in our caves during storms.”

“FLAGGR VTHR BARF,” says Skaarf.

“True,” says Koshka, patting Skaarf’s head. “Those kids do sound scary.”

Glaive grins. “Well. It’s not just fighting. We also have a kissing contest.”

“Really?” cries Blackfeather, the mandolin music stopping short.

“No,” says Glaive.

Ringo shakes out his hand, all red and scratched from losing. “You all have tame Halcyon Days celebrations. Haircuts? Eggs? Carnies go crazy for Halcyon Days. We have singing, dancing…”

“And a Water Party!” calls Ozo, swinging up from the tail to land on Ringo’s shoulders. “We throw water at each other all day until we’re sopping wet as spring flowers.”

“Drenched buffoons will never be as pretty as spring flowers!” yells Petal, her leafy fist pumping. “For Halcyon Days, us plants play Explode The Munions!”

“What kind of a celebration is that?” asks Skye.

“A crazy one,” mutters Ringo.

“Rude,” says Petal. “It’s to ensure a lucky harvest. Here, I’ll show you…”

“No!” the other heroes shout, scattering away from her.

“GBBBBL!” blurts Skaarf.

“Those seem like very nice celebrations,” says Skye, distracting Petal from her spring party trick, “but where I’m from, we eat sweet rice cakes, play games, give gifts to the elderly, and the Butterfly Keepers tell our fortunes.”

“How do you tell a fortune with a butterfly?” asks Joule.

“The Butterfly Keepers have gardens enclosed with netting,” says Skye, her arms arcing overhead. “You stand in the center, and whatever butterfly lands on your nose first has a meaning. If it’s red, you will fall in love. Yellow means fortune. Blue means bad luck. White means death. Black means life will change.”

“I knew that butterflies had powers,” whispers Koshka.

“But wait!” cries Blackfeather. “We never discovered why Phinn’s… people, shall we say, hold funerals for herrings.”

Phinn chews on his bubble pipe as all eyes rest on him. “I don’t remember. ‘Tis the end of herring season, so maybe we’re just glad it’s over.”

The titanback claws its way onshore. Morning fog lifts off of the Halcyon Fold; flowers burst open all over the jungle and baby birds screech for food in the trees. The heroes disembark and wish one another luck.


 

Introducing the Rare ‘Gangster’ Gwen Skin!

  • Vainglory
  • |
  • Mar 08, 2017

 

‘Gangster’ Gwen took out the mob, and now the boss wants payback. The seedy world of organized crime has never known a more dangerous dame!


CHECK HER OUT IN GAME: 


MODEL CHANGES

  • 1920’s style tuxedo style dress
  • Garters & boots
  • Wiseguy fedora
  • Crosshair ponytail accessory
  • Modernized weapons: sawed-off tactical shotgun & suppressed semi-automatic pistol

 


ALTERNATE FATE LORE

Out of Ammo

“I got a story for ya,” says Tiny, stalking into the room where he’s gonna die.

The dark room is full of woody cigar smoke; poker chips litter the ground (along with a scattering of gold cufflinks and wedding rings); and wiseguys in good suits slump over in awkward, bloody poses. The dame sits on the edge of a billiard table, legs crossed, shuffling a deck of cards with one hand. Tiny, the mob boss, is worth three of the dame, size-wise.

Tiny closes the door behind him. “A farmgirl came to the big city with grit under her fingernails, nothing but table luck and good aim,” says Tiny. He stops to nudge one of the dead wiseguys with the toe of his two-toned wingtips. “She thought she’d leverage that into a high-rise apartment so high that her view would be the other half of the world.”

The dame swings one foot to no particular rhythm. Her suppressed semiautomatic pistol rests on the felt alongside her leg. Her sawed-off shotgun’s in her other hand, its one eye staring Tiny down. The cards split, turn, shuffle, stack, split, turn, shuffle, stack, in her other palm.

“She caught the attention of the wiseguys,” says Tiny. “Made a name for herself. Worked her way up. And when she’d proven her smarts, the boss put her in charge of the game rooms, because he trusted her. That boss being me.”

Tiny is worth half of the dame, smarts-wise, but he doesn’t know it. Dumb people all think they’re smart.

“That farmgirl spent all her time in dark basements, taking pool hustlers out by their collars, threatening gamblers who couldn’t pony up, breaking up fights. She did all the bean counting and distributing. She made a lot of money for a farmgirl, but it was never enough. That high rise apartment was always a floor above hers, until she was right under the penthouse. The penthouse belonging to the boss, the boss being me.”

The dame smiles. Her eyes are dark under the brim of her fedora, so that smile is all that shows through the smoke. One of the dead wiseguys is sprawled out on the billiard table beside her, an 8 Ball shoved between his broken teeth.

“So that silly farmgirl took out all the boss’ best guys, and now she thinks she’s gonna take out the boss too, and move into his penthouse. That boss being me. That penthouse being mine.” Tiny moves through the mess of money and blood and broken bodies toward the dame, whose shotgun aim stays true.

“But the farmgirl underestimated the boss – and I should warn you that this story ends sad – and used up all her ammo on the wiseguys. Which I know, because she’d have put a slug in me at the door already if she could’ve.”

The cards split, turn, shuffle, stack. Split, turn, shuffle, stack.

“So the boss, that boss being me, is gonna choke that poor farmgirl to death, and throw her useless body into the river with concrete shoes, and no one’s ever gonna think about her again.”

The dame raises the shotgun as Tiny approaches, squeezes one eye shut, pokes her tongue out of one corner of her mouth.

Tiny stops an arm’s length away, close enough that the dame can see his jaw tightening, his teeth grinding down on his jowly grin. His fist pries open.

“What makes you think I’m outta ammo, Boss?” drawls the dame. Split, turn, shuffle, stack, and…

click. click. click.

An ace flies from the hand Tiny isn’t watching, slices through the air leaving smoky curls, and embeds itself nice and deep into the middle of Tiny’s forehead.

His eyes cross trying to look at it as he falls backward.

“It was a good story,” says the dame. She hops down from the billiard table and roots through his pockets, pulls out the silver key to the penthouse. “But I prefer happy endings.”


Read Gwen’s canon comic:

Guns & Sun


WALLPAPERS

Grumpjaw Abilities & Splash Art Reveal

  • Vainglory
  • |
  • Feb 16, 2017

1000x500_grumpjaw

Grumpjaw is a durable fighter, able to last in battles while maintaining stacks of his Living Armor through basic attacks. Grumpjaw can charge headlong into a fight, heavily damaging and slowing enemies at the end of his charge. Once he breaks through enemy lines, Grumpjaw can easily turn the tides of battle by devouring one of his enemies and briefly removing them from the fight.

Read on for Grumpjaw’s abilities…


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HERO ABILITIES

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Grumpjaw - Perk

Living Armor (Heroic Perk)

Grumpjaw’s hardened carapace grants him increased defenses. Every few seconds and every time he basic attacks, he gains a stack of Living Armor, up to a maximum of 5 stacks. Each stack grants bonus Armor and Shield. Enemies can remove stacks of Living Armor by dealing damage to Grumpjaw. He loses one stack per second while taking damage from basic attacks and abilities.


Grumpjaw - A

Grumpy (A)

Grumpjaw charges to a target location, dealing crystal damage and slowing enemies in an area upon reaching his destination. Grumpjaw deals bonus damage for each stack of Living Armor.

 


Grumpjaw - B

Hangry (B)

Grumpjaw leaps toward his target and attacks them. Afterward, he gains bonus weapon damage and attack speed for several seconds.

 

 


Grumpjaw - C

Stuffed (Ultimate)

Grumpjaw lunges forward, grabbing the first enemy hero in his path and devouring them whole. While the enemy is inside Grumpjaw’s belly, they are unable to move or act and their vision range is reduced to zero. After a few seconds, Grumpjaw will spit the enemy out in the direction he is facing. Grumpjaw can reactivate the ability to spit the enemy out early in a direction of his choice. If Grumpjaw is stunned, killed, or otherwise interrupted while eating, he will release his victim early.



Keep an eye on the in-game News section for more Grumpjaw info and guides. He’ll be devouring everything on the Halcyon Fold in Update 2.2!

Change a Hero’s Fate for World Book Day!

  • Vainglory
  • |
  • Dec 25, 2019

 

 

What if Ringo had won the bet? What if Daisy had a happy ending? For World Book Day, you choose the fate of your favorite Vainglory hero! From April 21 to April 27, 2017, submit your Vainglory Alternate Fates Lore Comic to Facebook or Twitter for a chance to win FOUR EPIC MYSTERY CHEST KEYS! 

Not an artist? No problem! Like, retweet & share your favorite submissions for a chance to win THREE RARE MYSTERY KEYS!


HOW TO ENTER

Unleash your imagination! Draw a 1 to 5-page comic story for your favorite hero. Your masterpiece can be created manually or digitally, but it must be your original work.

Submit your comic to Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram, following the rules below.

OFFICIAL RULES

FACEBOOK

  • You must like our official Facebook page.
  • Reply to the World Book Day Contest announcement post.
  • Include your comic in your post.
  • INCLUDE YOUR IN-GAME NAME.
  • Enter as many times as you like!
  • Not an artist? Share, like & comment on your favorite entries for a chance to win THREE RARE MYSTERY KEYS!

TWITTER & INSTAGRAM

  • You must follow our official Twitter account.
  • Tweet your original Vainglory comic.
  • Tag it: #VaingloryArt.
  • Mention @Vainglory (but do not begin your tweet with the @ sign).
  • INCLUDE YOUR IN-GAME NAME.
  • Enter as many times as you like!
  • Not an artist? Retweet, like & comment on your favorite entries for a chance to win THREE RARE MYSTERY KEYS!

PRIZES

  • Up to five submissions across all platforms will win FOUR EPIC MYSTERY KEYS EACH!
  • Up to ten players who have retweeted, liked & shared entries across all platforms will win THREE RARE MYSTERY KEYS EACH!

For more contests and exciting events, check out the community tab in the Vainglory app!

Introducing the ‘School Days’ Skin Series!

  • Vainglory
  • |
  • Feb 15, 2017

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‘SCHOOL DAYS’ LYRA (rare)

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‘School Days’ Lyra rules her school, and she’s here to teach you how to be one of the cool kids. Do you make the cut?


SEE HER IN-GAME!

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MODEL CHANGES

  • School uniform with matching overcoat & school emblem
  • Bows, bows, bows! Bows on shoes, necktie and hair
  • Twisting horns
  • Gold glasses
  • Fancy book with embedded Halcyon gem
  • Googly-eyed kitty bookmark

ALTERNATE FATE LORE

The Class President

So you want the best lunch table. You want teachers to step out of your way in the hall. You want everyone in school to know your name. You want to be class president. Hah! Everyone thinks they can be in charge until they’re herding a bunch of unruly sheep-eyed adolescents with raging hormones, questionable morals and underdeveloped prefrontal cortexes. But I’ll give you a few pointers if you think you can make the cut.

First: Fashion must be on point – within the confines of the school uniform, of course. Right now, bows are in. Bows on shoes, bows in hair, bows on blouses. Also acceptable: embroidered satin bomber jackets, old school tech and high top sneakers. When I decide something is in, the student body follows, or they can take a portal away from my eyeline.

Second: Excellence. There is no such thing as a B. You don’t skip extra credit assignments. You don’t sleep. You do not get the sniffles or the flu. You don’t join clubs, you start them.

Third: You know everything. It’s all in the book: birthdays, who’s dating who, which rival school the soccer team is playing next week. And if the president of the Glee Club gets a C on her chem midterm, the glare of disapproval in your eyes will banish her to some other lunch table… and encourage her to study more next time.

Fourth, but most important: For high school, you’re going to need a squad.


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PHONE WALLPAPERS

 


‘SCHOOL DAYS’ VOX (epic)

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‘School Days’ Vox throws the best parties. Read on to find out how he secured his place in the school’s top squad.


SEE HIM IN-GAME!

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MODEL CHANGES

  • School uniform with matching overcoat & school emblem
  • Satchel and backpack with scifi tubing
  • Old school tech headphones and cool new haircut
  • Throwing stars
  • Big zippers, belt and fingerless gloves
  • Futuristic high top sneakers

EFFECTS CHANGES

  • Flashy yellow skids on Sonic Zoom
  • Throwing star basic attacks
  • Volley of throwing stars on Wait For It

ALTERNATE FATE LORE

Leader of the Band

If you’re in this game to be liked, back out now. No one is going to like you; what you want is their fear. But every tyrant needs a sweetheart who will say things like, She’s super nice when you get to know her. A charming, front-facing party guy.

Vox is that guy. Straight A’s, big grin, great style, hair flopped over one eye, one fist dug deep in his pocket, starts every conversation with “Huh?” while pulling headphones away from his ears, has no idea how good looking he is, always has the coolest tech, the best dancer. Head of the DJ Club and band leader. Kids like him. Teachers like him. Pets like him. Everyone likes him.

He turns streamers, a school gym and a punch bowl into a mindblowing homecoming dance, and he throws all of my parties. He manages the guest list, he spins the remixes no one’s heard yet and he breaks up fights with calm words – or throwing stars and sonic zooms.


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PHONE WALLPAPERS

 


‘SCHOOL DAYS’ TAKA (legendary)

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‘School Days’ Taka keeps the student body honest. Cheaters beware – that isn’t just a takeout box!


SEE HIM IN-GAME!

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MODEL CHANGES

  • Kendo club katanas
  • Eyepatch
  • Maroon satin sukajan jacket with dragon embroidery
  • Silver dragon belt buckle
  • Futuristic high top sneakers
  • Takeout box

EFFECTS CHANGES

  • Glowing red and green effect on katanas
  • Green and red Kaku smoke bomb
  • Banging katanas together makes menacing sparks!

ANIMATION CHANGES

  • Katanas now detached from Taka’s arms
  • Brand-new combat poses and attack animations
  • Out-of-battle blade flourish
  • Dramatic new recall and death animations

ALTERNATE FATE LORE

Kendo Club Master

The class presidency isn’t all studying, campaigning, scheduling, scheming and partying. Teenagers get out of line. Every school has its low-level bullies, ditchers, spraycan outlaws, lunch money wranglers, name-callers and angry jilted lovers. It’s not their fault; they just need guidance.

And that’s where Taka comes in.

Taka is a personal success of mine. I found him running a black market ring of cheat sheets and plagiarized essays. I took that bad boy under my wing, made him head of the kendo club, and put him to work fighting the unscrupulous students he’d once rallied. He’s cute, in a furry-eared way, always with a big belt buckle and the perfect comeback.

He once popped out of the shadows in a poof of smoke right in front of someone ditching trig. The terrified kid ran back to class, got an A on a quiz, and joined the math club just to be safe. Taka breaks up PDA with his one-eyed glare and one time, when a freshman had his lunch stolen, Taka burst out of the shadows and stabbed the lunchbox right out of the thief’s dirty hand. Sliced the PB&J inside right in half – diagonally. The school is so safe now that the principal had katana holders installed into all of Taka’s desks.

All he needed was a little direction. He barely remembers his mischievous former life.


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PHONE WALLPAPERS

 

 


Read Lyra’s canon lore:

The Consequence and The Inception
The First Mistake

Read Vox’s canon lore:

Impossible Decision
Above Boiling Bay
The Masker Rage
Vanguard Up!
Escape to the Fold Part I
Escape to the Fold Part II

Read Taka’s canon comic:

Blade In Shadow

Introducing the Epic ‘Gladiator’ Catherine Skin!

  • Vainglory
  • |
  • Feb 10, 2017

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A painful reunion with ‘Gladiator’ Ardan turned into a bloody battle with ‘Gladiator’ Lance in the sands of the Gythian arena. This pulse-pounding story ends with the epic ‘Gladiator’ Catherine, fighting to save the life of her enemy.


CHECK OUT HER 3D MODEL: 


MODEL CHANGES

  • Eagle helm
  • Pauldron with deadly eagle talons
  • Feathered bodice with golden eagle skull clasp
  • War belt with gold talon buckle and feathered skirt
  • Eagle inspired arcshield
  • Gladiator sandal boots
  • One-armed manica armor
  • Halcyon gem embedded in arcshield

EFFECTS CHANGES

  • Glowing eagle emblem flies out of Catherine’s arcshield when she strikes with Merciless Pursuit or Blast Tremor

ALTERNATE FATE LORE

The Second and the Third

Read Part I: The Reunion
Read Part II: The Champion

From ‘The Champion:’

There was a rumbling, and the floor split apart. The crowd went quiet, so that the great metal wheels cranking to pull away the arena floor could be heard. The gladiators had to jump to one side or another, their eyes darting left and right, crouched in defensive postures. Dark water appeared from under the floor; the sand fell in and sank. The fans who had fallen into the arena scrambled and grasped for handholds wherever they could. One fell in with a splash, and the floor continued to roll away, separating the fighters farther and farther while the man in the water screamed for help. And then he disappeared, fast as if pulled under, and screamed no more.

Three small boats were lowered down from the stands and pushed through the dark water toward the gladiators…

Out of the water rose a long-tailed sea beast, its jagged curved teeth overlapping, its fat head as wide as a man was tall. An appendage grown from its forehead dangled a single glowing orb. The gladiators stepped into their boats, no larger than canoes, and struggled for balance as the beast slithered through the water toward The Champion’s boat.

The massive jaw opened and water rushed inside, pulling the boat close. The Champion leaned back, shield high, shoulder back, and sank his weapon into the beast’s horrid face. He yanked it out with one eye attached; the beast screamed and dove and the people’s stomps and shouts shook the arena. The Champion raised the dead eye toward the podium where the young emperor, Samuel, stood to cheer his favorite fighter.

While the beast hid underwater, Catherine scanned the crowd under an eagle-faced helm, her eyes narrowing on the podium. The public death of the Stormguard captain would be the emperor’s wedding gift to his bride. But the empress’ passionless expression betrayed the farce: she was as much a captive as her father, whose murderous eyes Catherine was glad she could not see beyond his ancestor’s mask.

Celeste was the very image of her mother. For one dangerous moment, Catherine’s eyes filled with tears.

The impatient crowd booed, so that guards rushed to thrust long pikes into the depths to antagonize the beast. With a grand splash that soaked the lower seats the beast surfaced, whipping its wide head side to side. The crowd screamed with horror and pleasure when three of the guards were snapped up, torn apart and swallowed.

The Champion marked his opportunity and took it, shaking the detached eye free of his weapon and aiming toward Ardan’s boat.

“Help me keep my promise, Julia,” Catherine whispered. “It is all I have left.”

She rode the wave that the beast made, gripping her shield with her bare arm, leaning forward for speed, and collided with The Champion’s boat, bashing her shield into his chest. The stun froze him in place, the bloody point of his weapon an arm’s length away from Ardan’s exposed back. Knocked off balance, The Champion fell, rigid, into the murky water.

Catherine twisted to turn the boat toward the sea beast; it loomed over Ardan, the crowd’s streamers plastering to its glistening black scales. The teeth clamped together a hair to the right of Ardan’s shoulder as he wound up and punched his caestus through the top row of the beast’s curved teeth, leaving them dangling and spraying oily black blood.

The crowd erupted with appreciation, the entire arena singing as the beast screeched and arched away.

Sanguis!

Ardan pointed his caestus at Catherine. “May pain follow you into the Nether!” he cried.

Violentia!

“Blood for blood!” he screamed, his voice breaking.

And he jumped, caestus first.

Catherine caught the strike on her shield. Her shield arm went numb, her neck snapped back, and the two enemies fell together into the water, sinking under the weight of their heavy armor.

Her feet hit the floor of the arena. She felt around in the dark and caught Ardan by the hair; he struggled and she flanked, forcing her eyes open, refusing to panic from the pressure tightening her chest and throat. He struck again and she took the hit in her belly, forcing the last of the air out of her lungs.

In the distance, she saw the light. It grew larger, and it was beautiful, glowing, mesmerizing in the deep dark, ever larger, and she thought it must be light from the last door through which all must step, and beyond it, Julia would be there, or it would be as Ardan had cursed her: full of pain, and she thought even that would be better than life as she had known it…

And then, with the last of her wits, she recognized the light.

Her eyes rolled up and the power flowed downward from the sky, through the cursed water, into her, making her shiver, into her shield, and in slow motion she raised her shield and slammed it into the arena floor.

The tremor blasted the water away, and with one breath Catherine crouched and leaped, planting her feet on Ardan’s shoulders, burying the blade of her shield into the sea beast’s brain as it glided up behind him.

The waves hit the edges of the arena and rolled back, hard and fast, tumbling Catherine and Ardan back under, and for many endless seconds they spun in water and blood without knowing which way was up.

It was The Champion who pulled them onto the arena floor as it closed. Dripping, coughing, they struggled to their feet. Ardan lurched toward Catherine, but Lance held him still.

“Do not dishonor yourself,” he growled. “She saved your life two times.”

“Three times,” whispered Catherine, but no one heard.

All eyes in the arena turned to the podium where the emperor stood, fuming, as the roaring crowd awaited his decision.

Read the canon Stormguard Saga:

Kestrel’s Test
Catherine’s Mission
What Must Be Done
The Right Tool For The Job
Impossible Decision
What Krul Seeks
The Shield and The Bow
The Coup D’Ètat
Crossing The Bridge
Alpha
The Destruction
Daisy, Daisy


WALLPAPERS