Monday, June 29, 2015

stormcaller soul

The Soul of a Stormcaller

The Stormcaller soul plays a part in these purposes:
  • Stormbringer (55pts.)
External Sites:
Stormcaller Guide
Stormcaller Video
Soul Calculator

Each point spent in the Stormcaller tree increases single target damage by .5% and AoE damage by 1%.

Type of Soul
A dealer of strong elemental magic focusing on water and air, a Stormcaller is able to bring down lightning, rains, and harsh winds to devastate attackers.
40pt Talent
“Storm Surge”   damage ability     14 mana    +11 charge
Cast time: 1.5sec.       Range: 30m       Cooldown: 30sec.
Deals X air dmg per stack of Electrified on the initial target. Applies a number of Electrified stacks to each enemy hit equal to the number on the initial target.
61pt Root Ability
“Storm Guard”     12 mana      Self buff      No Global Cooldown
Instant Cast
Reduces damage taken by 15%. When hit, applies Electrified and deals X air damage to the attackers if they are in melee range. Consumes charge while active.
Main Weapons
It’s said that Stormcaller Amunet could stop a man’s heart with the shock of her touch. Yet before she joined Thorvin Sternhammer’s crusade to imprison Greenscale, Amunet was called the Weather Witch of Emerald March. Without the Justicar’s interception, she would have burned at the stake as a heretic and dragon-spawn. In the rich farmlands of the March, Thorvin’s band encountered a land assaulted by harsh storms and persistent frosts that left fields washed out and barren. The March folk laid blame on the Eth woman Amunet, who stood out with her swarthy skin and pale white hair threaded with silver. The crusaders found her bound to a stake in the village square of Smith’s Haven, surrounded by villagers bearing torches. Thorvin stepped forward as the hand of divine judgment and bid them allow him to confront the condemned. “Do you have the power they accuse you of?” He asked her. “I do,” Amunet responded tonelessly. “Did you call the frost?” he asked next. “I did.” She said. “Why?” A smirk curled her lips. “At last, someone bothers to ask why.” As his men kept the villagers at bay, Thorvin untied Amunet. She led the party onto the March, where frost withered the delicate leaves of the seedlings. Durnes the Elven Ranger, wrinkled her nose as she could smell the Planar taint on the plants. The witch explained that she had seen Greenscale’s minions seeding the land with pods from the Plane of Life and had called in the storms to keep them from blooming. Together, they laid a trap for the life-touched wretches. The heavy rains and the frosts receded when Amunet released the spells she had cast on the land. Thorvin’s party hid themselves within the fields. Later that night, human cultists crept through the land, sowing the fields with corrupted seeds. Amunet surprised Thorvin’s crusaders with her skill in weather magic. She stood back from the fray, shielding herself with gales of wind that tossed the cultists like ragdolls.  She encircled the cultists with rings of frost, inflicting deep chills and hypothermia. Lightning danced down from the sky, bursting foes like ripe grapes or arching between cultists like a terrifying game of leap frog. Though each crusader downed cultists, Amunet racked up victims by the score. When it was over, they found a member of almost every local family among the villains. Disgusted, Amunet decided it was time to leave the March and Thorvin offered her a place in his band, the legendary hunting party destined to bring down gluttonous Greenscale.
“Should you feel a chill in your bones or an electric current in the air, you should run very far and very fast. You can no more hide from my lightning than you can block frost with a shield.”
Weaving air and water magic together, Stormcallers can achieve heights of devestation that they would not be able to if wielding these magics individually. Stormcallers are powerful in long fights against multiple foes.
Just as a storm can’t become powerful on one element alone, a Stormcaller has to take time to build up their spells, switching between elements to bring potency to their spells and are vulnerable to those who know how to interrupt their rotation and are capable of massive burst damage.

Friday, June 12, 2015

[Off Topic] Summerfest 2015!


Gather your lures and pack your bags! Summerfest returns to Telara June 12 – July 1 along with scavenger hunts, fishing, exploring, companions, and new cosmetic items fit for a season of fun in the sun.

Dive into new scavenger hunts across Goboro Reef, Draumheim, and Tarken Glacier, complete the Summer Royalty Achievement to earn your Ravensong mount, and check out this year’s all-new gear including Backpacks and Fae Wings!


In tune with the cyclical nature of the seasons, Swarmlord Khargroth gathers those loyal to him and unleashes them upon Telara. Thwart his quest for revenge and loot the treasures of the devilish Fae.


Join your friends for scavenger hunts throughout Telara – ride a barrel down Scarlet Gorge Falls, risk life and lips to plant a kiss on some of Telara’s greatest villains, and more. You’ll have to follow the clues, though – hunt objectives aren’t marked on your map!


Get Muirden from the RIFT Store to unlock a series of Minions Adventures that lead to – what else – 5 more new Minions! Unique and adorable critters have also returned to zones across Mathosia. Catch and befriend special companions from black bunnies to striped prairie dogs and colorful cobras.


Summer fashion’s alive at the RIFT Store: Collect a variety of swimsuits and open Summerfest Party Baskets packed with seasonal items, pets, currencies, artifacts, Essences, or (for the very lucky) Ravensong himself. Meanwhile, our new Backpacks and Fae Costumes are the essence of hotness, with unique appearances never before seen in RIFT!


Camp out to earn the title “the Counselor” and catch Summer Sunfish from special nodes throughout the event. As you complete Summerfest quests, you’ll earn Friendship Bracelets and Merit Badges you can trade in for even more seasonal loot.

Tuesday, June 09, 2015

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The world ablaze

A living fire spreads across Telara, screaming, slaying, setting the world ablaze. Cannibalistic centaurs gallop in herds. Goblins and kobolds lay low village and walled city. Driving the hordes before them come devils and the merciless Dragonians. They never stop to conquer, or even pillage, but burn everyone and everything to ashes and charge on like wildfire across a dry plain.

These are the Wanton, the Cult of Fire. Unlike other Dragon Cults, they have no legendary founder. They keep no records. Permanence angers the Flame Sire, so they worship through conflagration and chaos, fires searing away at the traces of time.

The rampage never stops long enough to allow for scheming or strategy, so there is no grand hierarchy among the Wanton, only individual war-bands that vary in size from ominous to endless. They follow the boom-doom-boom of battle drums. They burn and kill.


The Flame Sire's children

The Wanton are the easiest Dragon Cult to understand. They want to burn you and everything you love to ash. Not because it’s an insult to nature, but because they relish the sight, smell, and taste of flame. They won’t stop to take your valuables, pillage your mind, or rule your lands. They won’t raise you as a slave—but if you rise on your own like the Ascended, they’ll gleefully slaughter you again.

Wanton war-bands will fight anyone except one another, for they are united by love for their dire god. He shows his affection by roasting them in droves and letting them rebuild stronger and stronger. The Wanton seek his volcanic prison far out at sea, beyond the mile-high waves that churn in the wake of the rifts.


Asha Catari led the Defiant against a Wanton horde. The Telaran force looked tiny compared to the Wanton, like a bright cottage on the shore of a vast red sea. But they held the high ground, they had magitech, and they had Ascended, so spirits were high.

On the eve of battle, the Gedlo priests marked out a circular arena as wide as a town, and chanted as a hundred goblins fought a hundred kobolds. They fought to the death, but they fought without weapons, and soon the circle was stained deep crimson.

As the chanting rose, a huge Oni female waded into the murderous sea: horned, fanged, and fearsome, fins running along the backs of her musclebound arms. Her barbed tail flicking in excitement, she began to tear the goblins and kobolds apart, biting off heads and twisting off limbs until she stood alone amidst the charnel. The chanting stopped, and she roared at the Defiant lines, then turned and strode back into her own as the Gedlo began to burn the dead volunteers.

“Why would they slaughter hundreds of their own before a battle?” Asha wondered aloud.

“To please their red god, general,” said Rahn Chuluun, sitting beside her on his yarnosaur. “And to show us they can.”

Thursday, June 04, 2015

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The Abyssal


From the abyss

When the Blood Storm arrived on Telara, and Akylios’s spawn hauled themselves up from the seas, those mortals who were not dragged under the waves ran for their lives. Only one young scholar would not flee, for under the hideous gibbering and piteous screams she heard someone singing a song of infinite knowing.

Stealing a boat, she rowed far out to sea, where miles-long monsters churned the waters with their writhing. She tied a rock to her legs and dove overboard. The weight dragged her into the crushing deeps, closer and closer to the song. In agony she shut her eyes, and when they opened again she looked upon the singer. Akylios gave her but a portion of the dread secrets he kept, and under their weight her mind snapped, her face was worn smooth and her name vanished from memory.

She became the first leader of the Abyssal. Like her, some inquisitive souls refuse to control their thirst for knowledge, seeking answers to questions best left unasked. Others simply seek arcane power, even if they must drag it from the darkness. Only when they face Akylios himself do they learn that such knowledge and power drove him beyond madness eons ago, and he is only too happy to lead them in the same direction.

They know your nightmares

All the Dragon Cults are horrific, but the Abyssal are the most… disturbing. Quests for gold, destruction, or even power over the dead make sense in a villainous sort of way, but the students of Akylios defy reason. They chuckle quietly outside your window at night, moving into the shadows when you come to look. They paint hideous symbols in blood upon the walls of locked rooms, or upon the faces of sleeping children.

The Abyssal are not tightly organized like the Endless Court or Golden Maw, but operate in independent cells. Individual Tidelords remain in contact, concentrating cult efforts to free Akylios and share his senseless gifts with the world. Cliques and factions rise and fall within the cult, feuding rarely. When conflict does arrive, it overturns the entire structure of the cult. Such upheavals are carefully planned by the Tidelords, for tumult pleases the lunatic dragon.

The faceless men

A secretive cabal, the Abyssal are impossible to understand. Yet every Telaran knows the Abyssal on sight by their ornate, faceless masks. A former Abyssal himself, the Faceless Man of Meridian still wears his mask, and while the Guardians decry such an abomination working with the Ascended, even the Defiant wonder what their spymaster is thinking beneath that polished silver.

The truth is, the Faceless are indeed faceless, giving up their identities in a ritual to Akylios. Each must confront the black void where the infinity of all knowledge blends into incomprehension. They cast their true names into the darkness, cut their features away, and replace their rational minds with equal parts insanity and genius. It is tempting to underestimate the Abyssal as barking loons, but remember: Akylios keeps his promise of great knowledge and clarity of thought—knowledge best forgotten, and the clarity of madness.

Wednesday, June 03, 2015

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Orphiel Farwind

Few figures in Telara’s history are as controversial as Orphiel Farwind. Though a full account of his life and times is all but impossible to convey due to spotty records and Orphiel’s own silence, the following documents may shed some light.

Excerpt of a letter from Theo Catari, Royal Advisor in Matters Magical, to Jostir Mathos, King of Mathosia

As regards this Orphiel Farwind, I admit I have heard of him. Of Ethian stock, I think, self-taught, and a prodigy. We have had occasion to correspond, and his thoughts on sourcestone theory and planar dynamics are revolutionary. Note my deliberate word choice. If you are looking for a tutor for your princes, to ground them in sound magical theory and ancient lore, you can do better than Orphiel Farwind by choosing randomly from any graduating class at Quicksilver College. As my daughter Asha currently resides in your palace, I hope for her sake that you do not expose these impressionable young minds to Farwind’s radical notions.

From the diary of Asha Catari, age 12

Master Orphiel today told us about the ancient Eth—like me!—who tamed half the world and created a golden age of magic and learning. Oh how grand to have miniature cities made of crystal where mice are enchanted to walk upright and put on plays, or to ride to war on a mechanical horse powered by lightning. He says that the technology is like a pearl hidden under the sea-bed. You can find it if you dig hard enough, and then everything will glitter. You just have to use it more carefully than the old Eth did, so nothing goes out of control. I was so rapt I forgot to take notes, but Aedraxis offered to let me copy his. Zareph just sat and scowled the whole time.

Overheard discussion between King Aedraxis and Orphiel Farwind, visiting the palace at royal request

“So you say the ancient Eth built war machines?” asked Aedraxis, sipping his velvet-purple wine.

“At first, yes. Sourcestone-fueled wonders that were especially effective against the dragons. This pales in comparison to the engines of prosperity they developed based on these early inventions.”

“War so often is the father of progress,” said the king.

“A shame for progress, then, that Mathosia has known such a long peace,” Orphiel said with an ironic smile.

Aedraxis sighed, his broad shoulders sloping. “It will not last, my teacher. I fear certain citizens who’ve grown too rich in ambition. Like the noble Eth of old, I would have machines to bring a merciful end to my enemies.”

Orphiel leaned forward intently. “I could build you such devices, Highness, given the promise that once war is over, we explore the technology’s peacetime applications.”

Aedraxis nodded sagely, and said, “Only under those conditions would I agree.”

Raj Tahleed, Dean of Planar Studies in Meridian, giving a lecture on the renaissance of Eth technology

Of course one cannot blame Orphiel for Aedraxis’s crimes. Yes, he used Orphiel’s machines to break the Ward, but there is no way Orphiel could have known. Yes, perhaps Aedraxis did turn progressively more obviously sinister as the war ground on, but Farwind had been his teacher when the king was just a lad. It is hard to see wickedness in those you love. Besides, the great mind was never present for Aedraxis’s deadlier tantrums, isolating himself with his work. And it was Orphiel, after all, who rallied the Eth and the Bahmi to march to Port Scion and support Prince Zareph against the rifts. He was the first Defiant, and let no man forget!

Kip Bayne, graverobber, current member of the Unseen, in his cups

I brought the man a fragment of bone from a fresh grave like he asked, and watched as he lay it on his fancy slab. Took a whole lot of sourcestone (must’ve cost a king’s fortune) and built a figure of a woman. He pulled the lever and there was a flash, brighter than anything I ever thought I’d see. For a while, nothing happened. The man kept tugging nervously at his dozen collars. Then, a voice came, a pretty woman’s voice: “Orphiel?”

She formed around the sourcestone frame: bone, then meat, then skin, and then these bright tattoos blazed to life on her dusky flesh. I knew that girl. Asha Catari, she was. She sat up and stared at Orphiel, who just laughed and laughed and laughed.

Activity transcript from Rusty, primary automaton assistant to Orphiel Farwind

REPORT: Currently operating at 98% exertion at the master’s bidding.

REPORT: Attempts to complete alternative Ascension Process 0% successful.

REPORT: Have inquired of the master why such steps are necessary, as Sylver Valis and other Defiant have perfected the process already. Master claimed that alternative means would make Ascended far more common and allow Defiant to overwhelm Guardians and riftspawn. Not having to rely strictly on temporal travel, according to the master, is also highly desirable.

REPORT: Instance of visitors to the master’s study has lessened by 65% since the first Ascension. Most visitors now seek council of Asha Catari and other Ascended.

REPORT: The Master stands at his tower window for hours at a time. Mutterings included the following: “I must perfect Ascension. Could I even assign it to a living mortal? Test it on myself, of course

Tuesday, June 02, 2015

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Delicious Hedfell Farms Recipes
Darkmoon’s Birthday Cookies

1 cup butter, softened – from cow’s milk! No nightmares here!
1 ½ cups packed brown sugar
2 large roc eggs, plus 1 egg yolk
1 tablespoon dreamy vanilla
2 ½ cups flour
2 teaspoons baker’s power
½ teaspoon purifying salt
½ teaspoon baker’s soda
12 oz. bag miniature chocolate bits

Make a batch of chocolate brownies or purchase some from a reputable baker in Choreburg.

Mix butter with an Empyrean Handheld Mixing Apparatus until creamy. Add brown sugar and continue to mix until smooth. Add eggs, yolk and vanilla. Mix again until smooth. Combine flour, baker’s powder, soda and salt in a medium bowl and stir together with a wire whisk. Add the dry ingredients to the butter mixture and heat until combined. Stir in chocolate bits. Seal the dough and let it sit in a snow drift for at least an hour. Thankfully, Tarken Ascent is a short walk from Headfell Farms.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Take ½ cup of chilled dough and roll it into a ball. Make an indentation in the center with your thumb and place a 1-inch square piece of brownie in the center and roll the dough around it. Dwarven parchment creates an excellent surface to work on and bake for these cookies.

Place six cookies at a time on a large baking sheet covered in parchment and bake for 18 minutes. Keep the remaining dough balls chilled while the others bake. You may need to bring some ice with you from Tarken for this but it’s worth the trouble. Cool cookies on baking sheet for a few minutes and then cool completely on a wire rack.

If your cookies start to get too brown on the edges before they are done baking, you can place a sheet for foil over top for the last few minutes.

Enjoy, Ascended!

Hedfell Farms Cooking Book
Greentoe Squash Bread

1 cup snake oil
2 cups fae tear sugar
1 tablespoon racid butter
3 rotten eggs
1 teaspoon Draumheim royal vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon bitter almond extract
1 teaspoon ground cinnamaim stick
½ teaspoon ground nutmeg heart
3 cups bone-white flour
½ teaspoon dried tears
¼ teaspoon baked alive powder
1 teaspoon baked alive soda
6-8 tablespoons blackhearted cocoa powder
2 cups finely grated greentoe squash

Pre-heat oven to 325. Grease and flour 2 small loaf pans or one large loaf pan; set aside.

In a large bowl, cream together the oil, butter, and sugar. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Pain is good for the soul.

Add the extracts.

In another large bowl, sift together the dry ingredients. Alternating between the two, add the dry ingredients and the grated greentoe squash to the egg mixture; about ½ cup of each per addition. Scrape the sides of the bowl often, making sure all ingredients are well blended. Nothing must be allowed to escape.

Pour batter into the prepared loaf pan of pans. Bake about 45 minutes if using small pans and an hour and 15 minutes for one large pan, or until an inserted toothpick or knight comes out clean. Allow to cool in the pan on a cooling rack for about 20 minutes.
Carefully remove from pan, allow to cool completely before slicing.