Path of Exile Talent Competition 2018

I've got a talent for finding bugs, does that count?
Well i wrote a short story inspired by the whole making a exile thing, some thing of a back story I guess. Oh and please note that while I tried to to keep lore consistent I did take a bit of artistic license here and there. I also tried to make the character one of the classes the man character so yay for anyone who can pick which one it is :)

anyway.... (you play poe so im guessing its no issue but i had people say the story was a bit... unsettling)

Reading books, that was my crime. "Seeking out knowledge of the past in order to return the world to a state of corruption and chaos" that's what Dominus called it. Why can those fools running church and nation not realise the vast potential held within those marvellous stones, those special gems of virtue? Rumours even say they're conducting research on them in the prisons, but what would I know? I never set so much as a foot in that place before they had hauled me on a godforsaken ship to Wraeclast.
Bitter cold dug its way ever deeper, clawing at my very bones. The least the bastards could have done was to actually take us to the coast, but no. Left to drift in the freezing sea and watch that leaking bucket of a paradise sail off into the night, a final insult by the sheltered scum that didn't want us around.
It took hours to reach the shore and soon dawn would welcome me to a dying land. Slowly I dragged my body up the sand lined shore, coughing up foam and putrid sea water with every wave which pulled me under. My patience wore oh so thin as hate, sorrow, and contempt patched the holes in the tattered fabric of my mind. My life had been simple, rarely leaving Theopolis let alone Oriath itself. How do they think I am to survive? Why not just take my head? Finally free of the oceans grasp I breathed deeply just to find the smell of rot filling my lungs. I stood, shifted my gaze up and down the coast. Corpses, so many corpses. Many with faces I had seen on the ship, none with which I had spoken so much as a word.
Far in the distance I could make out the faint glow of fires, the only clue of life to be seen. It must have been a small settlement as it was too small from a town yet to spread for a single camp fire. However, I knew naught of this land beyond the history given in the libraries and should even a glimmer of it have remained to this day only a fool would take it lightly. I thought that to stay put till the sun was at its peak would be for the best. The towering cliffs were peppered with caves which for now could serve as a place to rest.
Trying to climb with failing strength I crashed across the floor of a lower cave, lost rope and debris strewn by storms long past caught me and spared my bones of fractures. This would do. Here I could rest till the sun rose. Slowly my eyes closed, slowly pain subsided, slowly I felt at peace.
Dreams torn away by a spine-chilling thud I clambered to my feet. The suns glare beaming into the cave momentarily robbed me of sight and as it returned I made out three silhouettes. Indescribable joy flooded my very soul, with others I could find safety, with others I could survive. One step was all that I managed, for in that instant one of the three stepped forwards. Plunging over the ledge into the cave, head first on to rocks. The sound of a cracking skull echoed as their neck twisted and contorted body fell around them. Then I noticed, the first thud had been from another falling, one arm mangled and a branch skewering one eye they were making their way to their feet. The two above shuffled ever forward shadows revealing blood stained clothes failing to cover gouged flesh. Life was not with any of them yet still, they walked.
I turned to run but found only a dead end. slumping to my knees I awaited the death my mind feared was to come. My eyes darted side to side yet to give in, desperate for escape, and there they were. glistening among the debris, one green the other blue each with strands of gold set upon their uncut surface, were the very thing to have me damned to this hellish land through mere knowledge of their existence. Perhaps not the gems adorn with red which held the ancient power of the Vaal but all the same, in that moment the gems became my chance, my sin, and my salvation.
I grasped one in each hand so tightly that metal pierced my skin and as blood trickled the stones felt as though they pulsed. Blankly my gaze shifted back to the four, now all on the cave floor stumbling as they edged towards me. I raised the hand containing the green gem to point at them and with all my might I squeezed.
From the very earth itself corpses, not all human, seemed to form motionless on the ground. The stagnant air began to swirl and glow faintly green as the stench of death grew intense beyond anything I had ever known. The four still walked but as they did blisters formed anywhere the green air touched and flesh began to fall from their very bones. Still they walked. Again, I clenched my fist, more corpse appeared, no change for those who walked. A third time, more corpses, yet still forward the decrepit four stumbled. The green gem fell silent, panic grasped me, was I still to die here?
The other gem pulsed. Not faint as before but like the scream of a lost and ravenous child demanding it be fed. So I obliged. Hand held out a stinging pain shot through my arm. Fear for what was to happen next slowed my perception to a crawl.
Around one corpse, between the walking four, formed tainted crimson rings patterned the likes of which I had never seen. In an instant they grew, almost touching the walls either side of the cave. My veins felt heat so intense my blood might have boiled. hairs hissing and crumbling as though seared by flame. My skin cracked and peeled, bones creaked as they tried to hold themselves together, chest and gut bulging as heart and lungs swelled like balloons. pain beyond pain, agony beyond comprehension or belief. At the centre of the rings the body reeled from influence I could only imagine to be the same.
Then it ended. Not so much as a second from when the ordeal began, my body gave in. First from the tips of the fingers holding the gem, then expanding along my arm and body. Rapidly charred flesh burst and bone shattered with such ferocity to produce flame. All went dark. I thought myself dead. What else could I be?
Moments later I breathed.
Warm soothing air filled my lungs, the stink of rot replaced by the brilliant smell of ash and iron. The glorious sun through the mouth of the cave bathed my newly opened eyes. The blood of others dripped, no... flowed off me as I, I alone, stood where the four had once been. Red stained walls the final mark they would leave upon this world.
Thunderous laughter echoing in the cave I made a declaration. "You Dominus took from me my life and stranded me upon this path. Through it I am born anew! but this will not be our final parting for the gift you gave must be repaid. Do not pray Dominus, for soon... all gods will leave you abandoned."
Last edited by stomatopod on Jan 31, 2018, 6:11:14 AM
''Cyclone Man''

Here's my depiction of my first character that reached endgame and made me truly appreciate Path of Exile .

Last edited by Filipiaszek on Jan 31, 2018, 12:25:46 PM
Malachai - The Black Core

This is my fanart entry to the path of exile talent competition 2018.
It displays malachai in the inner core. Sculpted in Zbrush, composition in Photoshop. Hope you enjoy;)

Hello GGG. Thank you!
Last edited by Vezorx on Jan 31, 2018, 1:33:42 PM
My Mjölner. After 5 days work.

Hey guys! Here's my submission :)

The title is "Bonewarped".

Last edited by Grimous on Feb 1, 2018, 3:24:09 AM
Triumphant At Last

The twitching corpse of the undead Emperor rested on the platform upon which he had emerged from the depths. The cacophony of grinding machinery started to come to a halt. The saws stopped, the spikes vanished into the ground, and the poison darts stopped shooting from the walls. Shattered bones of what were once the Emperor's minions lay scattered all over the chamber. Static electricity crackled around their bits and pieces, remnants of the power expended by the sole breathing occupant of the room.

The witch herself could barely stand; blood oozed from half a dozen wounds, her heart pounded in her chest, and the knowledge of how close she'd come to death weighed down on her. She stared down at the grinning skull of her defeated adversary. `Triumphant at last,' Izaro had said before he collapsed. The words echoed in her ear. They bothered her. They sounded like Izaro had wanted her to prevail all along.

The thought made no sense to her. Not after the assorted traps, the lava pits, the hordes of zombies, skeletons, necromancers, giant porcupines, and walking statues, and especially not after the fury with which Izaro had thrust himself into battle. Why, then, were those his dying words?

She was not even certain that Izaro was dead. Not truly. She had faced him and his Goddess of so-called Justice twice before, in two other incarnations of the Lord's Labyrinth. She slew Izaro in both, yet she would go on to face him again, and each time he'd be more deadly. This, the third, had been by far the worst. She had attempted to face him in this merciless incarnation of the Labyrinth on fifteen separate occasions. Always, she had to retreat. She simply couldn't handle the old bastard. Until today.

Her investment had paid off. The shiny red sadist garb she wore empowered her lightning spells like nothing she'd encountered before. With it, she made short work of Izaro's minions throughout the Labyrinth, and when they came to his aid in the final battle, their violent demise contributed to the Emperor's fall in no small way. Whoever Inpulsa had been, the witch owed her a debt of gratitude.

As the rush of the battle started to settle, her eyes shifted from Izaro's remains to the wide open door leading into the Ascendancy Chamber. She took a cautious step forward and glanced at the traps around the room. Everything was still, as if frozen in time. She took a final glance at Izaro. Nothing; the corpse didn't even twitch any more.

`Trust completely,' Izaro had said the first time she heard his voice. It was time to trust herself that she had finally done her job, and it was time for the reward. She turned her gaze to the door and willed herself to walk on. Every step she took sent spasms of pain through her body, but she moved on. Across the door, she saw the familiar sight of the treasure chamber.

It all looked exactly like in the previous two incarnations she'd visited. Massive treasure chests scattered across the room, just begging to be opened. Her gaze ignored them, along with the Divine Font to her right, and focused instead on the only thing that mattered: the Altar of Ascendancy far across the room. Its power called to her, and once more Izaro's words resounded in her ear.

`Be singular of purpose,' he had said to her, on numerous occasions. She had taken that particular advice when she spent her entire stash of Chaos Orbs on the armour she wore. She chose to heed Izaro's words of wisdom once more, and walked straight towards the Altar. She never even glanced at the chests, she hadn't even taken the key from the Emperor's corpse. The power was all that mattered.

When her fingers finally touched the Altar of Ascendancy, she felt revitalized. Power like nothing she felt before coursed through her veins. She felt like she could take on Izaro all over again and put him down in the span of two seconds.

Her sudden confidence passed when the Altar spoke to her. Not in words, but with a sensation. And that sensation told her, like it had twice before, that there was more. Even more power to be had, somewhere, in an even deadlier incarnation of the Labyrinth. Guarded by an even more lethal manifestation of Izaro.

A sudden itch in the witch's throat urged her to open her lips. Unbidden laughter emerged. She had to support herself on the Altar as the violent fit of cackling laughter shook her very being, and her voice echoed across the chamber.

`Triumphant at last,' Izaro had said. Now she understood why. He had been mocking her all along. Triumphant? Hardly. And when she considered how much more dangerous the final incarnation of the talkative Imperial corpse would be, or if it would even prove to be the last, she knew with absolute certainty, that there was no such thing as triumph in the Lord's Labyrinth.

Still laughing and utterly unable to stop, she stumbled away from the Altar. She headed back the way she came, to loot the treasure key off Izaro's corpse.
Here's my submission of fan made trailer, "My Righteous Fire Marauder".
It is base on my gameplay, from moment to moment of creating RF Marauder.


GRINDING in PoE is FUN, also feel more rewarding, especially in solo self-found hardcore!
Last edited by dohh2008 on Jan 31, 2018, 7:17:23 PM
People put way to high standards for a normal pleb like me

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