DotA Conflicts

[DogOfHavoc]

I wrote this for some fan fic on dotastrategy.com and figured I'd post it here. All comments are welcome.

Part 1
Rikimaru crouched low in the bushes, peering into the surrounding darkness. The forest was alive with the sounds of movement, some benign, others more sinister. His sword was slung across his back and his hands were slick with sweat. Eyes darting around, he waited for danger. He was not dissapointed. Through a swathe in the bushes he had a clear view of a moonlit clearing. As he watched, an ominous silhouette loomed into view. As Rikimaru's eyes adjusted he could see the creature's features in better detail. It was a tall humanoid, over six feet tall. Head to toe it was covered in a dark red fur, with a long black cape winding down its back. Its eyes were a blazing dark orange, they seemed to soak in all the nearby light. As Rikimaru watched the creature let out a bloodcurdling howl, chilling the very air Rikimaru breathed. Heeding the call, two massive wolves came loping out of the woods, their dark black fur glistening in the moonlight. Rikimaru was more frightened then he had ever been in his life. Afraid for his life, he began to slowly slip away. Then the creature did something that made the Stealth Assassin freeze. Sniffing the air, the creature turned and looked to the very spot where Rikimaru hid. It's eyes pierced the darkness and it let out a low growl. Then it dropped on all fours and pounded towards Rikimaru, its wolves in tow. The Stealth Assassin sprung into action. Hopping up, he crooked his elbows and slung himself into the tree above him. His sweaty hands fumbled in the branches, but he continued to climb. Banehollow was not amused. Sinking his deep claws into the heart of the tree, he began to propel himself up the tree. Seemingly hurling himself upward rather than climbing. The wolves circled around the base of the tree, sharks eager for a meal. As they climbed higher, the canopy thinned and the cold whipping lash of the nigh wind began to berate them. The Lycan held fast in the driving gales, but Rikimaru struggled. His slight frame was whipped around and he struggled to keep his footing with his cumbersome satyr hooves. Glancing down he realized Banehollow was closing in for the kill. Thinking fast, the satyr whipped one of his smoke bombs into the wind. It exploded in mid air, and the whole tree was shrouded in a dark cloud of smoke. Seizing his chance, Riki spun around and dove down from the branches. As he fell he unslung his sword and holding it tightly plunged towards the blurry shape of the werewolf. At the last second the smoke cleared and the Lycan saw the hurtling assassin, but it was too late. The cruel sickle satyr blade plunged into the Lycan. It tore all the way from his shoulder to his lower back, leaving a gaping gash down his spine. He grasped for Rikimaru, and together they feel intertwined to the earth. The Satyr was able to stay on top, and Banehollow broke his fall...and his own back. Unhurt, Rikimaru stumbled off of the limp body and hurtled back into the forest, intent on completing his mission. Back at the tree the shadow wolves had found their master. They let out a mournful cry and nudged him gently. Banehollow let out a moan of pain, and gasping for breath fumbled for his pouch. Withdrawing a small vial of healing salves, he hurriedly placed them on his wounds and slipped into a feverish sleep.

 

[XeNiM666]

let me guess....

you played Dota, you used Riki and you enemy was Lycan and you won.

Anyways, good short story!!

 

[DogOfHavoc]

No you guessed wrong, I just made that up.

 

[Halahan]

I liked it.

 

[Chao]

I think I'm going to write one, too.. this ACTUALLY happened, and I was less than happy about it.. hehe...

The Morphling charged out from the base. He'd had his essence in the fountain of health, rejuvenating the materials that comprised his being; he'd stayed to heal, and as he did, the Necrolyte, Rotund'Jere, had swept in with a cadre of ghouls and lesser necromancers and begun tearing the life from the ancients that had for so long stood on guard, mothering the treants that marched to war against their enemies, teaching the druids the lessons of the claw to prepare them for the fight to come; the ancient protector, its roots firmly in the ground, lay asunder, its leaves floating dead in the breeze.
The Beastmaster had failed, in Morphling's eyes. He was in the woods, claiming himself a champion over his latest kill, a large centaur, when the Necrolyte attacked. Now, he returned, but it was almost too late; the Morphling was almost in range, the ancient of war groaned for help, its life force almost diminished, the Beastmaster was still too far away, it was up to the Morphling, now...
Angered, every millisecond a factor, the Morphling suddenly stopped, concentrated for but a moment, then burst forward, an angry torrent of the seas aimed at the lesser creatures before him, and every ghoul caught in the swathe loosed a cacaphonous, gurgling cry as they were swept away. By some miracle, as the Morphling reassembled his components, a lone necromancer still stood, badly injured, his ability even to remain standing waned, but before he fell to the tides released by the Morphling's fists, he loosed a single ball of deathly energies at the ancient of war; his life force flickered out before he even got to see the spoils of his efforts, as the ancient of war toppled, releasing a moan of finality to the circumstance.
Rotund'Jere, who had thusfar avoided the wrath of the Morphling, released an unearthly howl, sending death energies flying every which way. Morphling took the strike and responded with a devastating barrage of tidal fists, launching wave after wave at the venerable Necrolyte. The Beastmaster's imminent arrival frightened Rotund'Jere further, as he came into view around the buildings at the south end of the World Tree's encampment. Rotund'Jere began to run, his vitality still strong, his tactic wise in retreat. But Morphling would have none.
The elemental ignored the next wave of ghouls, passing through them and allowing the few treants remaining to clean up the mess. But Rotund'jere was faster.
The old Necrolytle looked back and saw clearly that the Morphling could not hope to keep up and chuckled to himself. When he turned forward again, he was staring at - himself. He tried to dodge the illusion, but it struck him, and was very, very real. A moment later, the illusion burst into a torrent of water, like a water balloon striking cement, and in its place stood Morphling. Eyes wide, Rotund'Jere could not muster a scream once the watery essence of his opponent filled his lungs...

 

[thewrongvine]

No you guessed wrong, I just made that up.

Which means you lost to him.

Nice story. Very descriptive, so good job with that. You should use some spacing so it isn't just that huge clump like it is now, and are you going to lengthen it? It seems pretty short right now.

@Chao, haha, could use some work.
You made each sentence too long. It isn't "childish" or "unprofessional" or whatever to use seperate sentences. I'm not saying to completely eliminate the use of periods and commas, but use more sentences. Your second sentence has like 10 commas, 5 semi-colins, and is like 4 lines long.

He had his essence in the fountain of health, rejuvenating the materials that comprised his being. He had stayed to heal, and as he did, the Necrolyte, Rotund'Jere, had swept in with a cadre of ghouls and lesser necromancers and begun tearing the life from the ancients that had for so long stood on guard, mothering the treants that marched to war against their enemies, teaching the druids the lessons of the claw to prepare them for the fight to come. The ancient protector, its roots firmly in the ground, lay asunder, its leaves floating dead in the breeze.

How's that revision? I added 3 periods, I think. And you have a typo for that first part with the "He'd had". Also, just an opinion, where it goes "He'd stayed to heal...", would be better with "had" instead of the... forgot what it's called, with the ' to combine two words... Anway, just an opinion.

MEH, this is DogOfHavoc's thread! I talked too much for you, Chao. ^_^ Perhaps you should start your own thread.

Good job to both of you. :thup:

 

[TheDamien]

I think this is in dire need of a rewrite. I'll start you off:

The Rikimaru's stand animation played as the small unit idled between the environment doodads. The unit's facing angle was aligned towards the fog of war, and the forest was alive with the sounds of 'ForestTrollDeath.wav', 'AxeMissileLaunch1.wav' and 'AxeMissile1.wav'. Rikimaru's scythe was permanently attached to his hand, and one of his alternate stand animations began to play.

Anticipating an easy kill, Rikimaru waited for an enemy hero unit to appear. He was not disappointed. Through a gap in the environment doodads, his LoS extended over an empty expanse of 'Cdrt'. As he watched, the 'Lycanthrope' hero unit entered his LoS and began to play its cast animation.

 

[Chao]

lol, I'm sick. I've been sick all week... I noticed what you're saying shortly after I posted and was like.... "awww ___ it." hahaha thanks though!
And mine actually happened.... I was sooooo pissed at that Necrolyte...

 

[DogOfHavoc]

Thanks for the comments everyone, I found Damiens to be quite funny. Also Chao I would appreciate if you could make a separate thread. I did like your story though. I was planning on making this series and it doesn't make any sense with your story between Part 1 and Part 2.

 

[Chao]

Sorry *shrugs* the thread title was "DotA Conflicts" and that S on the end led me to believe it was an open post for little snippits of DotA conflict fun!