The Rustshaper
Enemies hit with rust abilities gain stacks of Rust. Rust stacks reduce enemy resistances by 5%, up to a maximum of 5 stacks.
For every rust stack within a 10 block radius of you, gain 5% increased energy regen.
Toss a rusty object towards your cursor, dealing damage and applying a stack of Rust to target.
Drop a hail of rust objects from the sky, dealing damage and staggering enemies within the radius. Apply a stack of Rustworn to all enemies hit for each shot.
Blink forwards 5 blocks. You cannot blink through terrain.
Target an enemy, explode all the rust stacks on them. For each stack on them, deal damage in a 5 block AoE around them. The target receives half that damage.
Open a chasm in a line in front of you, rooting all enemies touching it for the duration. Rooted enemies take damage scaling with the amount of Rust stacks you have applied to the entire enemy team.
Farrick was raised beneath the groaning cranes of an industrial city built upon generations of discarded iron. Its furnaces had long since cooled, but mountains of broken machinery still towered over the streets, staining the rain red as they slowly decayed. While others scavenged the ruins for metal that could still be sold, Farrick listened to the quiet pull passing between every nail, chain, and shattered blade.
His gift first revealed itself during a scrapyard collapse. Pinned beneath a fallen beam, Farrick reached desperately toward anything that might free him. Every loose fragment in the yard answered at once. Rusted tools tore themselves from workbenches, iron plates peeled from the walls, and thousands of corroded nails rose into the air around him. By the time the dust settled, the beam had been ripped apart—and the men responsible for the collapse had fled beneath a storm of flying metal.
In battle, the Rustshaper carries a staff assembled from an old pneumatic tool, though it serves less as a weapon than as a conductor for his will. With a gesture, he hurls jagged debris across impossible distances or calls down clouds of corroded iron like crimson hail. Every wound leaves behind flecks of living rust that spread across armor, weapons, and flesh, weakening each layer until even the strongest defenses crumble. The longer Farrick fights, the more metal surrounds him—and the more oppressive his control becomes.
Farrick insists that he does not create rust; he merely reminds iron of what it is destined to become. On battlefields saturated with his corruption, the ground splits beneath the weight of buried chains, broken swords, and forgotten armor clawing toward the surface. Those caught within his grasp often hear a low metallic groan moments before the earth opens and the wreckage of older wars rises against them. To Farrick, nothing made of iron is ever truly lost. It is only waiting.
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