- Phantom Blade
- The Harvester lashes out in ghostly form to scribe a wide arc before the Rider, slashing at foes with vicious power. All hits now have 60% life steal.
|Level 1||Level 2||Level 3|
- Grim Harvest
- The Rider may throw the Harvester before them in a long straigt shot, but the demon blade will always return to his hand.
|Level 1||Level 2||Level 3|
|Damage / 1 hit||250||325||400|
|Speed / s||300||300||300|
"The reaper's blade be as cold and as sure as the grave!"
In the darkest ages of the southern provinces, the Vordighol Empire, in a brutal campaign, subdued the Southern Reaches. They subjugated each city in turn, and at last came to the peaceful lands of Marseinne. When the Vordighol finally breached the city walls, they lay waste within. They left the stricken city in ruins, and its people broken and bitter.
In Marseinne, the youngest daughter of a merchant family, Katiana, sat with her dying brother. Stricken by a marauder's arrow he lay dying in their small farmhouse. Their mother had been cut down in the field, and their father at the walls of the city, but Katiana had hidden in the attic when she saw the marauders take her mother and by some blessing or curse, Katiana she been left unharmed.
Now she was the last. Her brother passed in the night, and Katiana took him to the fields to bury him with their mother. Delirious with sorrow, she brought them both to the middle of their fields, where in the stark moonlight stood the family's tattered scarecrow.
The grim figure stood watch over her as she shoveled, and as she finished burying her family, Katiana looked to the cold, bright Duskstar and prayed for vengeance.
The spindly figure before her seemed to sway in the wind, then, and the dancing shadows made the sackcloth face seem to writhe. A cold wind urged Katiana forward toward the thing, and then it spoke. "Poor wretched girl!" said the scarecrow in a voice that seemed to come from as far away as the Duskstar itself. The face contorted into a freakish smile. "If only you had the power to avenge your family, would you? Would you give anything?"
Her life had been stolen from her by the murderous Vordighol. Katiana had nothing left, of course she would. She nodded dumbly. The terrible wicker man held its hand to the sky and a wicked demon of Astaroth came to him from the darkened heavens. It bore a wicked scythe that it lay at Katiana's feet before departing. "Go now to the village, and avenge your family!" spoke the scarecrow, and then burst into flames.
Katiana took up the cruel sickle and was lifted with the power of her hatred and desire for revenge. The very light of the Duskstar seemed crawl and dance across the scythe and her form and she ascended towards Merseinne, empowered by the dark lord to do her vengeance.
When she arrived at the city, the doors stood wide, and the Vordighol army, in its arrogance, was reveling in the ruins of her peaceful city. With a wicked determination Katiana slew them all, and when she was done and the empty city ran with blood, she returned to the graves of her family, but she was not alone. The demon herald of the Dark Lord Astaroth was waiting for her.
"You have had your vengeance, and now, in return, our Master will have your service!" cackled the thing, its red skin glistening and hot. It then took her by the wrist and hauled her into the skies, to bind her in unending service to Astaroth. The Harvester, as it has come to be called has been seen since in the hands of Riders fighting for their masters in the Eternal Lands, one must wonder what they have paid for the privilege.