| Venomtail | |
|---|---|
 The Creeping Affliction | |
| Max Health | 1950 |
| HP Regen | 35 |
| Max Mana | 1500 |
| Mana Regen | 44 |
| Gold | 1600 |
| Speed | 122 |
| Role | Striker |
| Stats | |
| Attack | 80
|
| Defense | 30
|
| Support | 10
|
| Difficulty | 90
|
| Health | 80
|
Skills[]
- Poison Spit
Spits a gob of paralyzing poison at the venomtails foe, slowing them.
|
Level 1 | Level 2 | Level 3 |
| Damage /s | 100 | 140 | 180 |
| Speed Reduction Amount (-%) | 50 | 50 | 50 |
| Turn Reduction Amount (-%) | 60 | 60 | 60 |
| Chance(%) | 25 | 30 | 35 |
| Duration (s) | 1 | 1 | 1 |
| Mana Cost | 50 | 60 | 70 |
| Cooldown(s) | 1 | 1 | 1 |
- Sting Punch
Venomtail winds up its tail and delivers a terrible sting, injecting slowing poison into the veins of its enemies, to hinder any attempted escape.
|
Level 1 | Level 2 | Level 3 |
| Damage | 200 | 250 | 300 |
| DoT Damage /s | 100 | 110 | 120 |
| DoT Duration (s) | 2 | 2 | 2 |
| Target Slow (s) | 2 | 2.5 | 3 |
| Mana Cost | 0 | 0 | 0 |
| Cooldown(s) | 10 | 10 | 10 |
Tips[]
- They can't flee - Venomtail's poison slows as it applies damage over time, use this to your advantage to overtake your prey.
- Pick off the weak - When the time is right, use Poison Spit to slow your foes' attempts at escape, then get close and administer the kill with Sting Punch.
- Pair with The Harvester - Use the Venomtail's Poison Spit to slow enemies as you close up on them, then pin them with the Sting Punch for the kill.
Lore[]
Dread Astaroth has won many hells since the time of the Pact. Some of these he has held dominion over for so long as to be naught but cinders under empty skies by now. So devastated are these hapless planes as to harbor no more life for the Dark One to torment. Until again they are claimed by Hyperion, these cold, dead world will languish in their desolation. If they are forsaken for too many cycles, these worlds can even be lost entirely, to return to the cosmic foam from which they were coalesced.
Upon one such dwindling sphere, Astaroth's last gambit in his war against Hyperion's forces had been to take a particularly poisonous insect breed and twist it bodily into his own brood of savage predator, the Venomtail. These creatures were made with only one thing in mind, the utter destruction of their foes.
Their shells were hardened and thick with malice, their claws made for holding their enemies fast while their oversize stingers delivered a poison concocted to stop the hearts of nothing less than dragons. These beasts overtook the lesser drakes, born of the world, which fought for Hyperion. In the end, they ravened the land like locusts before the harvest, and their terrible wings blackened the skies. By the time Astaroth moved on to his next conquest, the venomtail had devoured all and the dead plane was left a seething hive. With nothing left to hunt, the venomtail fell upon themselves. Each generation became crueler, more virulent, and more wicked hunters than those that had come before them.
Where he stood upon the plains of conflict, the Dark Lord could see that his own forces, the dog-faced goblin races of this land, were not doing well against Hyperion's holy knights. He cursed, but as his sullen hunger for victory began to swell, he felt again the hunger of his creations echoing his own from across the void. Inspired, the Dark Master of Abominations reached across the void to drag the mother of the venomtail brood, Scorpius, to this battlefield to devour this angelic enemy, as they had devoured that other world, long before. It was only when she had arrived that Astaroth saw what he had wrought, and he laughed as he saw it. The Dark One retired from the battlefield then, the end already a surety.
As Scorpius had coalesced in the very midst of the battlefield, cloaked at first in a haze of noxious brimstone. The venomtail was enraged. Half-starved, she was ready to consume all that lay before her. However, what Astaroth saw as the sulfurous cloud of her summoning dissipated was that upon her back rode unexpected passengers. A doting mother, Scorpius had protected her brood from extinction as she had when they first hatched, by sheltering them upon her own back. When Astaroth had plucked his pet from the other world, she had carried along her children, who would then make more, and more. As the titan stepped away to the next battlefield, he heard the raucous cries of goblin and hero alike as his grim creation began to spread out, and to feed.
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