Varion may cast his abilities freely.
Varion overcharges a shell and fires it, dealing 55 / 100 / 145 / 190 / 235 (+0.7) physical damage to the first enemy it passes through and 8% less damage to each subsequent enemy (minimum 60%).
First Cast: Varion tosses a Progress Gate onto the battlefield that lasts for 5 seconds. Recast: Varion instantly teleports to the Progress Gate.
Passive: Whenever Varion uses an ability, he gains 2 stacks of Residual Power for 5 seconds (maximum 6 stacks.) While affected by Residual Power, Varion's Haste is increased by 20 / 30 / 40 / 50 / 60 and his basic attacks consume a stack to deal 8 / 16 / 24 / 32 / 40 (+0.1) bonus physical damage. Active: Varion fires a flare shell, revealing a large area and all enemies in it for 5 seconds.
Varion fires an experimental shell that detonates on the first enemy shaper hit, causing 24 / 38 / 52 (+0.1) physical damage every 0.5 seconds for 5 seconds to that enemy and all enemy shapers near them.
I'll explain about the noodles in a minute. These - these are good times. The merchants, they love to play at war. Good money for folks like me, eh? Those poor bastards who fight for nobles, what do they get for their troubles? We dirty mercenaries, we get good clean cash. Survive enough battles, you buy your own nobility. Live the dream - the Promise of the West! But listen. It's the company that makes it all bearable, yeah? There are some crazy, scary people in this business. Guys in it for the money, or the power, or killing. They don't last. No one wants to work with them. And when you're neck-deep in swords and shit, you want someone you can trust at your back. The good people, you find each other. You stick together. You make each other laugh when the fight's gone grim. Marching past midnight for weeks and months, you hold each other up. Bad employer, you drink and complain together. You hash out where they screwed up over late, cold dinners. You plan better days. The Silver Hounds were a dream unit. Every one of us the best. Every one a great heart. You give us a month, we could take any city. You give us an afternoon, we could charm the peasants over for you. Spirits, I miss those days. They're all dead now. Died when Duke Anzerani sent us to the Heart of the World. A flash of light, and they all fell like sacks of grain. Marzin, Kalla, Viazi. Every last one. Just stopped breathing. Didn't - didn't even have time to-. Ah, hell. Sorry, cousin. I'm going to pour one out for the dead. Then another for me, so I don't remember the good times so well. Then... then I'll tell you about the noodles.