#dotatober

[aditublog]

my writing - dota - fictober day 6

"Adaptable, I like that." The Mogul Khan shouldered his double-edged axe. His muscles bunched with the movement due to its weight. It was more than half of the Khan's body height and it was designed to be held with two hands. Two of his hands. It was all about strength and force but the Mogul Khan was strong and therefore he swung an axe that was heavy enough to cut through the best armour. Through every armour.

Someone weaker would never be able to pick up the axe, much less wield it. Someone as weak as the troll next to him for example. At least the troll had shown his worth otherwise so the Mogul Khan didn't despise him for his puny arms and purple skin.

Carrying the axe on one shoulder, the Khan nodded at the troll shaman to follow him. They were on the search for enemies and though he had initially wanted to go alone, the Khan was glad to have a shaman by his side. He'd never admit it, but the troll had some serious moves up his sleeve. Not only healing and reinforcing the Khan's armour, but also attacking the enemies. Defensive and offensive. Adaptable.

On the other hand, the troll was slightly crazy. When they entered a small clearing, the Mogul Khan walked on with long strides, crossing the clearing and stepping underneath the trees on the other side.

The Shadow Priest stopped and crouched. It took long moments before the Khan noticed the troll's absence, then he turned around and headed back. Stunned at the picture in front of him, he stopped. He had expected that the troll had found something of importance but this was hilarious.

Staff discarded on the ground, the shaman sat between flowers, were picking them, one after the other, taking his time to examine them before taking them. He had a small bouquet in one hand to which he was adding steadily.

“What the fuck are you doing?” The Khan's voice wasn't much more than a growl. Unfazed, the Shadow Priest smiled at him.

“I'm picking flowers. They have so nice colours and they smell heavenly.” He stood up, walked towards the Mogul Khan and held the bouquet out. “I thought they might bring you joy.”

“Me?” That was the strangest thing the troll could've said.

“Yeah, look, the colour is almost the same as your skin.” His smile widened. “Pretty”, he murmured.

The Mogul Khan was a warrior, what was he supposed to do with flowers? And while they were searching for enemies. “I don't want some stupid flowers.” But he didn't knock them from the troll's hand, though it had been his first urge. They were pretty. Deep red on small flower heads, the petals were long and sharp, and their smell scented the air on the whole clearing. He had no need for them but he didn't want to crush them. “Take them yourself, if you like them. And now come, we don't have time to sit around and pluck flowers.”

With swift movements, the troll shaman bound the bouquet to his waist-belt, then retrieved his staff. With every step he took, he smelled of the flowers now. It was nice, in this time of war. Like a moment of joy. It was over too soon, the flowers not surviving the next fight, but their scent lingered even after the troll had discarded the sad remains of the plants. The strange shaman had been right, they had brought joy, if only fleetingly. Unexpected, to get that from something this base.

[anjael]

I made a Dota 2 prompt list for october drawing month, feel free to use it if you like! :D 

If you use it please tag it and @ me so I can see your lovely art!!

[lasanha-do-lidl]

While looking for reference pics for this, I stumbled upon... a lot of... weird pics... so I'm convinced I've just drawn some sort of obscure fetish lmao.

[aditublog]

my writing - dota - fictober day 7

"Check that again, are you sure?"

Irritated, the Warlock frowned. “What do you want from me?”

“Check again, I think something is wrong with the fountain.” Wings flapping lazily, the Dark Willow hovered a few inches above the ground, pointing at said fountain.

“Why don't you check it yourself?”

“I already did but I need a second opinion. Maybe I'm wrong.”

With a sigh, the Warlock turned towards the fountain. He saw nothing that was out of the ordinary but humouring the Dark Willow he leaned closer, until his head was right above the water.

A sudden movement at his back, a push between his shoulder blades, an obstacle in front of his feet that made him trip, and the Warlock was lying in the fountain. He tried to grab something, got the edge of the fountain and pulled himself up.

He spluttered, water in his eyes, in his mouth, his clothes soaking up the wet within seconds. They would be heavy, clinging to his frame and restricting his movements. As soon as he had rubbed the water from his face, the Warlock glared at the Dark Willow. Who was sitting on the ground, holding her stomach and laughing until tears rolled down her cheeks.

Ignoring the Dark Willow, the Warlock stood up and climbed out of the fountain, which wasn't easy with all that cloth clinging to him. Considering the Willow's laugh, it didn't look particularly graceful, either. Then he grabbed his staff which was floating on the water, but it made him almost fall in a second time because the clothes were too fucking heavy and pulled him forward.

He was dripping and it was uncomfortable. Yet he'd have to let his clothes and hair and everything dry on the air. He made one step and felt water sloshing in his shoes. Under the continued laughter of the Willow he poured the water out, one after the other. Then, head held high, he left. The laughter followed him for a while.

It was his own fault, he knew better than to trust anything the Dark Willow ever said. But she was a good performer, she had seemed so earnest.

A moment later, the Dark Willow was by his side. Whatever she wanted, the Warlock wouldn't react to it. He stared straight ahead.

“Come on, I just wanted to tease you a bit because you are always so tense. Here, I have a towel.”

Still angry, the Warlock didn't answer. It was probably another trick and he wouldn't fall for it again. But the Willow flew in front of him, blocking his way. She held a huge towel out for him. “Take it. And please don't be angry.”

“Why should I trust you with that?” The Warlock indicated the towel without taking it.

The Dark Willow scrunched her nose. “Because it wasn't supposed to make you angry, it should've been fun. You know what fun is, right?” She cocked her head to the side and eyed him up, while still holding the towel.

This could be another performance but a towel would be nice. Carefully, prepared to jump back, the Warlock reached out. Nothing happened. He examined the towel but it seemed ordinary enough. So he pulled the hood from his head and dried his face, his hair. When he looked up, the Dark Willow was watching him. “What?”

She smiled a little. “Admit it, it was funny.”

“No.” He'd never admit to such a thing. It would only encourage her. But his anger was gone. It was too warm anyway in all the layers he was wearing, a little refreshment in form of a dive in the fountain hadn't been so bad.

The smile transformed into a grin, as if she knew what he was thinking. “Okay.” She winked at him and waved, then she left for the direction of the fountain. Maybe to trick someone else, too.

The Warlock stood there, not sure what to do with the towel, but he had to smile at the sassiness of the Dark Willow. Because she wasn't cruel, she was just exuberant and in this world, that was filled with darkness and war, it was nice to see someone in such a good temper.

[aditublog]

my writing - dota - fictober day 18

"I don't think this is your problem." The Bounty Hunter ignored the Bloodseeker next to him as he stared up at the cliff, trying to figure out how to put a ward up there. It was too high for him to reach, yet it was the perfect place to put a ward, to give them vision above a wide stretch of forest and the roads in-between. He only had to get it up there.

For a moment, he debated if he should throw it and hope it would remain standing. If it didn’t, he’d have wasted a perfectly fine ward. He wasn’t that good in throwing things, so he dismissed the idea. Maybe he should try to climb the cliff though it looked difficult.

With the ward in his backpack, the Bounty Hunter stepped closer to the rock and searched for a ledge to grasp and then to put his feet onto. It wasn’t that high, it should be possible. But the wall was smooth and there was nothing for the Hunter to hold on to.

“I disagree. I benefit from the wards you place the same as you. It is only right that I help you and that includes putting the wards into places that are difficult to access.”

The Bounty Hunter smiled, though it was hidden underneath his half mask. He was glad the Bloodseeker was with him. “How are you going to help me but a ward onto the cliff?”

“Get onto my shoulders, then you’ll be able to reach to edge.” It sounded easy but the Bounty Hunter didn’t like heights and it was wobbly on the Bloodseeker’s shoulders. He was nervous and of course the Bloodseeker picked up on it. “I have you, don’t worry.” The words were a soft murmur, a stroke over the Hunter’s senses. He calmed instantly, trusting the Bloodseeker unconditionally.

It was a close thing, but the Bounty Hunter was able to reach the edge of the cliff. He didn’t try to pull himself up, instead he simply dug the ward out of his backpack and stuck it onto the rock. “Down please.”

The Bloodseeker let go of one of the Hunter’s legs, which he had been holding in a tight grip, to hold a hand out for the Hunter to take. Slowly he climbed down from the shoulders. Back on the ground, the Bloodseeker didn’t immediately let go of his hand. They stared at each other, though the Bounty Hunter knew the Bloodseeker couldn’t actually see anything through the cap covering his eyes. But his other senses were good enough to make up for the absence of sight.

“See, this might not have been my problem but together it was still easier to solve, don’t you think?”

The Bounty Hunter smiled again, aware that the Bloodseeker could probably sense it even though it was hidden.

A moment later, the Bloodseeker raised the Hunter’s hand to his mouth, turned it palm upwards and very slowly, while ‘looking’ at the Hunter, licked over his wrist, right where his pulse beat. A shiver raced through the Hunter’s small body, a shiver of delight. A second shiver followed as the lick was accompanied by the slightest scrape of teeth.

When the Bloodseeker lowered the Bounty Hunter’s hand he still didn’t let go, instead they walked through the forest hand in hand.

@sxpaiscia

[aditublog]

my writing - dota - fictober day 17

"Are you serious?" Mirana was incredulous. How dare the Troll Warlord talk to her like that? “That is rather misogynistic.”

“It isn’t.” Though the Warlord was fighting, he had enough breath to talk with her. “If I said I wanted you to stand on the side of the road and look pretty because you are female, then it would be misogynistic. As it is, I simply want you to do what I tell you to. Nothing more and nothing less. Now hold some healing salve ready for me.”

He was right, this wasn’t misogynistic, it was pure arrogance. He thought he was better than her because he was stronger, he’d probably treat a male he thought weaker just the same. That didn’t make it any better and Mirana was fuming inside. She was the Priestess of the Moon, she wouldn’t be treated like that without consequences.

Oh yes, she had the healing salve ready for the Troll Warlord when he needed it, he had said he wanted her to do what he told her to. But she did nothing he didn’t specifically ask for. And when he almost died, because he didn’t tell Mirana to help him, had even forbidden her to interfere in his fighting before, she smirked.

She toned the smirk down when the troll stood in front of her, furious. She held a healing salve out for him to take and as soon as it was working, he started yelling. “How dare you let me die? It is your job to support me, that includes helping me when the enemy is about to overpower me. How stupid are you?”

“Oh, I should have helped you to fight?” With round eyes Mirana pretended to be surprised. She wasn’t stupid at all, just too proud to let this troll bully her. “You didn’t tell me to do that so I didn’t know. Maybe you should make sure to call for my help next time you need it, in case I read the situation wrong. Not that I interfere when it isn’t wanted.”

The Troll Warlord narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t stupid as well and he knew what she was doing. Mirana blinked, trying to appear innocent.

With a growl, the Warlord pointed one of his axes at her. “Your job is to support me, do it.”

“But I did and then you told me I did it wrong. Now I don’t want to disappoint my carry so I think it’s best I wait for your command.”

The troll’s skin turned even more red than it naturally was, as if his anger truly burned inside him. He seemed to debate what to do next and Mirana was curious. He could let her do her job as she wanted to or he could actually tell her every single thing he wanted from her. To her surprise, and amusement, he went for the second option. Stupid troll. She was so strong, could be such an amazing support, and he clipped her wings like that. It would end badly, but only for him.

The Priestess of the Moon wasn’t dependent on her carry. Should he fall, she’d be fully able to fend for herself. She was prepared for that to happen. He could die in his arrogance, she didn’t care.

Chin held high, Mirana sat on her mount, unmoving, waiting for the Troll Warlord to call for her. It was the most inefficient method he could’ve chosen, but he had chosen and she’d make him see his error.

When he died, she laughed. And when he reappeared by her side, resurrected by forces that were grander than both of them, she offered him the same deal as before. Let her do her job as she saw fit or wait for his commands.

Skin burning bright red, teeth clenched and hands balled into fists, the Troll Warlord agreed to let her do her job.

Only when he had turned away did she smile in triumph. And then she did her job as his support. Gloriously, as she might add.

[aditublog]

my writing - dota - fictober day 13

"I don't want you to do that." Raijin frowned at Xin. The Ember Spirit was browsing the wares in the shop but Raijin knew what he was looking for. “They will target you, specifically you, all at once. You will be their main focus, they will try to bring you down first.”

If the enemy attacked Xin all at once, they might just be able to kill him and that thought frightened Raijin. He didn’t want to have to watch Xin die, not here, not now, not ever.

Xin’s eyes burned with an uncanny intensity when he looked up. “They can as well try.”

Raijin was very sure of himself, knew how strong he was and that he wasn’t easy to kill. But his confidence was nothing compared to Xin’s. The Ember Spirit was convinced he would win every fight, would defeat every enemy and would never go down.

“This weapon will make me even stronger, no one will have a chance against me.”

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Raijin frowned. The air around him crackled with static energy, due to his displeasure. “To be strong isn’t all. You know that. Don’t buy that stupid sword.”

But the Ember Spirit had found it among the other weapons and ran his finger over the hilt reverently. “It is amazing. I can feel its power even from this small touch. I will be invincible as soon as I hold it.”

“No, you won’t.” Because he could be disabled, stunned or the weapon knocked from his hand. Xin was strong without the weapon, that wasn’t truly a problem. Strong weapons tended to make the wearer reckless, though. Raijin had seen it often enough and he saw it now, as well.

Xin’s hand lingered above the hilt of the sword, then he pulled away with a start. “You are right. Not invincible.” He focussed on Raijin, his features softer now. “Which sword then, instead?”

Relieved, Raijin grinned and dropped his arms, the static around him receding. “Any sword, as long as it’s not the Divine Rapier. It brings bad luck.” It was too tempting, the damn weapon. Raijin felt it as well, the wish to wield it, to use its power. He had seen too many good heroes fall with the sword in their hands, though. He had seen the misfortune it brought. He wouldn’t want his Xin to be one of them.

“Something swift. Something powerful. Something to cut through armour more easily?” The Ember Spirit muttered to himself while looking at the wares on display.

Raijin moved forward, fast as lightning and took one of the swords. It burned similar to how Xin did, a burning weapon for a burning Spirit. “This one?”

“Almost as good as a Divine Rapier.”  The Ember Spirit took it and swung it. Satisfied he nodded, paid and together they left the shop.

“Thank you for not taking the Rapier.”

“You were right, it would be stupid. It is the wish for power that makes me want to get it. But this fight we are fighting isn’t about power. It is about tactics and merely being strong won’t make us win.” He stopped walking and bowed slightly towards Raijin. “Thank you for making me see reason.”

“Well”, Raijin had to concede, “I didn’t think about tactics and how to win, I was merely thinking about how this weapon makes its wielders die too soon. I don’t want you to die, therefore I don’t want you to buy the Rapier. I might have been a bit selfish, there.”

“I see.” But the scowl that was almost always present on Xin’s features smoothed out. “I don’t mind you being selfish when it is about me. I don’t want you to die, either.”

“Great, now that we have that settled, and you have this mighty sword, how about we kick some ass?” Raijin grinned, looking forward to their next fight.

[aditublog]

my writing - dota - fictober day 11

"Think! For once!" The Beastmaster shouted at his eagle, who had been hovering in the air over the same spot for five minutes. The creature was good for intelligence, technically. Practically it was a nuisance because the Beastmaster had to give it orders in such detail he could probably use the time he needed for it to do the reconnaissance on his own.

The only true advantage of the eagle was its ability of flight. Which wasn't that grand since it was easy to pick it out of the air with an arrow due its lack of thinking. And its lack of a survival instinct. It was frustrating.

The enemy wasn't stupid, they could well see that this was no normal eagle, hovering over the same spot for such a long time. Not that eagles didn't hover, just not like that. So as soon as they saw it they attacked it.

“Stop yelling at your bird. It won't grow a brain because you tell it to.” The Holy Knight, surrounded by several creatures, knew that truth well enough. He enthralled animals to follow his command and he probably had the same problems.

Still, the Beastmaster growled at the stupid eagle, then he gave it the command to fly a few metres forward until it hovered over the forest. Less easy to shoot it out of the sky at that spot. Then he turned towards the Holy Knight. “Your animals seem to do better than my stupid eagle.”

“They don't. I simply never let my influence on them slip. I'm always in their minds, I tell them every single step they are supposed to take. The only thing they do on their own is breathing and I'm very grateful for that. With the power to control them comes the responsibility to take care of them.”

“You are in their minds? Like, mind control?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, that’s gross.” The Beastmaster didn’t do that. He had a connection with the creatures around him, but it was nothing like the Holy Knight was describing. It was closer to friendship.

Suddenly he wasn’t as annoyed about the eagle’s inability to think on its own. It was better to have a stupid eagle who was still itself than to get into its mind and control every single action. Because it wouldn’t be an eagle anymore. There were advantages to that form of control but the Beastmaster decided immediately that he could live without these advantages.

With a last glance at the Holy Knight and the creatures gathered around him, the Beastmaster left. He wouldn’t condemn the method of the Knight but he didn’t have to like it.

[aditublog]

my writing - dota - fictober day 23

"Not on my watch!" The Nightstalker growled and when the Witch Doctor didn't react, he grabbed his shoulder and shook him. Lightly at first, but then harder until his eyes slowly opened.

“What?” The word was slurred, his gaze unfocussed.

“You won't fall asleep. We have to stay alert. Wake the fuck up!” It was annoying that the Witch Doctor didn't take this as serious as the Nightstalker did. They couldn't fall asleep, couldn't let their guard down. There was a demon somewhere around and they had to catch it. Or kill it.

The Witch Doctor yawned and stretched. “Come on, you stay awake and I sleep. I think that’s amazing teamwork.”

Baring his teeth at the shaman, the Nightstalker snarled.

“That sounds like a 'no'. Fine.” The Witch Doctor stood up and stretched again. “Bully”, he muttered and looked around. “It is too dark for me to see anything how am I supposed to be of any help? I could as well sleep.”

“No, because you'll take too long to wake up in case the demon appears. I had to fucking shake you.”

With a sigh, the shaman agreed to stay awake. But as soon as he was sitting again, back leaning against a huge stone, his eyes drifted close.

The Nightstalker snarled but decided to redesign their teamwork: they wouldn’t work together by searching for the demon side by side. Instead the Nightstalker would use the shaman as bait. That was a form of teamwork, too, and he wasn’t sorry to use the Witch Doctor in such a way. It was his own fault for not staying awake as agreed.

With a last look at the sleeping creature, the Nightstalker vanished into the night. He walked as far as possible, until he could barely make out the form of the Witch Doctor. Then he crouched low and waited, not once looking away from his bait, not even blinking.

He felt the demon before he saw it, the sensation of utter darkness even during the night. He didn’t want to chase it away, so he crept closer as silently as possible. He was very slow but as soon as the demon stepped into his field of vision, he propelled into action.

The demon was too dumbfounded by the sudden appearance of the Nightstalker to flee and it was just a matter of seconds before it was captured. The Nightstalker was strong enough to defeat it, he didn’t actually need someone else. Which was good.

Because the Witch Doctor didn’t wake up.

[aditublog]

my writing - dota - fictober day 22

"Who said this is a good idea?" The Drow Ranger sighed. She already knew the answer before five fingers pointed at the Stealth Assassin.

In return, the Assassin shook his head. “Because it is a good idea. Just maybe not with him.” He nodded towards the five identical creatures, who were technically only one with four copies. “He is too flashy.”

“Not everyone can be invisible, I have other talents, as you know well enough. Try to break into the shop, even without stealing something, without my help and you'll find yourself captured, invisible or not.” All five creatures grinned, annoying in their sameness. He'd be annoying on his own, but with four copies he was four times as annoying.

The Drow Ranger preferred the Assassin, at least he was quiet and unobtrusive. He was the perfect partner for a heist. But they needed the Geomancer and his copies this time. He was supposed to be the distraction, with his ability to trap others and to jump to his own copies, no matter how far away they were. He'd create the chaos while the Assassin would slip into the shop. The Drow Ranger was backup, lookout and protection for the satyr thief all at once in the meantime.

The target, some rather fancy and expensive gemstones that held an insane amount of magic, would be well guarded. They couldn't just walk in, not even when invisible, and back out like it was nothing. That was the only reason the Stealth Assassin had suggested to involve the Geomancer. And the only reason the Drow had agreed.

“We made the decision and we are here, so let's begin.” Backing off wasn't anything the Drow Ranger did, at least not like this, not when she hadn't even begun. She wasn't above running when the situation got too dangerous, but not yet. Her lingering sense of unease was more due to the Geomancer being with them, not because she sensed any danger. She didn't like change, didn't like other creatures and rarely trusted anyone. It was an unsettling idea that they had the Geomancer with them but alone they couldn't have done this.

The Stealth Assassin acknowledged her words with pulling one of his knives. His body shimmered a little, the sign that he was invisible for others. Not for her, though, since they were working together.

The Drow took an arrow from her quiver and softly blew onto the tip, coating it in ice. Then she knocked it. She retreated until she stood next to a tree, hiding in its shadows. Taking a deep breath, she then exhaled sharply, sending a gust of magical wind forward to cover their approach. “Go.” The command was for the Geomancer, the Stealth Assassin was already on the move. They had done this often enough.

A few moments later, chaos erupted when the Geomancer did what they had planned. He was a distraction, loud and annoying and everywhere at once. Even the Drow forgot for a moment to look after the Assassin, her eyes drawn to the creature with his four copies.

Yet when someone came running, she reacted as fast as ever, ignoring the ruckus in front of the shop. Her arrows, enchanted with ice, weren't as harmful as normal arrows but they slowed the targets, until they were frozen to the spot. Neither Drow Ranger nor Stealth Assassin were out to kill anyone, they were here to steal. So the Drow stopped anyone who came to intercept them. Killing was the last option.

With the guards distracted, the Stealth Assassin slipped into the shop. He knew to hurry.

More people came running, from different directions. Too many for the Drow to shoot all at once, but that was where the Geomancer came into play. He did his job rather well and the Drow only had to watch for the ones who weren't fooled or trapped by the Geomancer.

When the door opened, she sent another gust of wind to help the Assassin's retreat. In return, the Assassin threw a powder onto the Geomancer, not to harm him but to help him get out as well.

A few seconds later, the three (or rather seven) were running away from the shop, not as fast as they were able to but as low-key as possible. The Geomancer even called his copies back so he only had to hide one body in the shadows they were ducking into.

During the run, the Stealth Assassin threw one gemstone towards the Geomancer. “Your share. Bye.” In the same movement he turned away from the creature, the Drow following him. Together they continued until the Assassin stopped underneath a tree. It looked like every other tree in this forest but it was their tree. Their meeting spot whenever they wanted to do a heist together, whenever there was something to discuss, when they had gotten separated and needed to meet up again.

For two thieves they were astonishingly loyal towards each other but they had relied on each other often enough, they couldn't betray each other now. Code of honour or something, the Drow supposed.

In any case, she was glad to have an ally in the satyr and when he held the smaller of the two remaining gemstones out for her she didn't protest. He did the more dangerous part of their heists, always did, it would be unfair to complain. Instead she nodded. “Thank you.”

They parted ways, because if someone followed them, which wouldn't be unexpected, that would make it more difficult to find them.

All in all, this had been astonishingly easy. The Geomancer had done well, more so than the Drow had expected. She looked at the gemstone shortly. It glowed from within, very faintly, and she could feel its magic. Satisfied, she tugged it into a pouch on her belt.

[aditublog]

my writing - dota - fictober day 25

"You know I'd do anything." With wide eyes the Winter Wyvern stared at the pile of gold coins in front of her. “Anything to own that.”

“Isn’t that very cliché? Since you are a dragon and all?” The frown on the Silencer’s face, who had accompanied the Wyvern on a mission and was still by her side, deepened.

The dragon snorted. “Well, it was that cliché that had me collecting treasures in the first place. I was satisfied with collecting books, but now that I have a cave filled with gold I find I actually like it. Taking a bath in the coins is amazing, they are so smooth and cool against my scales, I could do it all day long. Have you ever tried that?”

“No and I don’t plan to. My skin is too sensitive to enjoy bathing in cold and hard gold coins.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. A bath in gold coins didn’t sound comfortable and in addition he wasn’t here to make friends with the dragon.

“Too sad. We could’ve taken a bad together.” The Wyvern winked and when she saw the human’s eyes widen, she laughed. “Kidding. Will you help me carry the gold into my cave?”

“We can’t. That would be theft.” And the Silencer had rather strict rules concerning the matter of theft.

The dragon laughed again. “So? Whoever it belongs to is welcome to visit me in my cave and demand it back.”

“One day”, the Silencer sighed, “this behaviour will get you killed. One day someone will come into your cave who is fully able to defeat you.”

The Winter Wyvern wasn’t disturbed by the thought. It was too boring most days anyway. Some excitement would be highly welcome and if whoever demanded the gold back was able to defeat her, they could take it, of course. They would’ve earned it. “I’m looking forward to such a challenge.”

[aditublog]

my writing - dota - fictober day 24

"Is this safe?" The Anti-Mage looked at the small sports of light all around them uneasily.

Kael’thas, the Invoker, nodded. “Yes, they are perfectly safe.” To show it, he reached out and touched one of the small lights. It wasn't even warm against his fingertips, just a small round object that glowed.

“But how do they work?” The Anti-Mage was still suspicious and wouldn't touch the lights. He stayed at a safe distance, watching carefully. The lights didn't move, though, they had been stuck to the trees and bushes around them.

“Magina, you know I wouldn’t bring you here if it wasn’t safe. The lights are powered my magic, but it is a teeny-tiny amount of magic and it isn’t dangerous at all.”

It was the word ‘teeny-tiny’ that made Magina relax. Because it was a stupid word and Kael rarely used stupid words. Besides, it was true. He confronted Magina with magic often but never with dangerous magic. Magina had simply been surprised by the amount of small and colourful lights all over the place. Now that he looked again, he found them very beautiful.

Around them night had settled but the small dots of light and colour illuminated an area in which a couch stood. In the middle of the forest, a couch. With Kael being the most powerful of all mages that shouldn’t be surprising yet when the Invoker had suggested a romantic picnic Magina had pictured it as it was done by others: with a blanket on the ground on a meadow on a sunny day.

Of course the Invoker wouldn’t sit on the ground.

Kael took Magina’s hand and pulled him towards the couch. They settled on it, then the Anti-Mage stared at the lights. “They are beautiful.”

Some of the lights were yellow, almost white, and these were the ones to give actual light off. But there were others as well, in all possible colours. They were all around them, hanging in the trees, even above their heads, like colourful stars. It was very romantic and even though it couldn’t have taken Kael much effort to create this place Magina appreciated it.

He pulled his knees to his chest and snuggled against the mage, who was still holding his hand. He was comfortable, seeing the benefit of a couch in the forest. He forgot about the picnic part.

It was a nice evening, cosy and quiet. And when Kael smiled, Magina was caught by it. He leaned over, wanting to capture the smile with his lips, wanting to feel it in addition to seeing it. It was rare enough and he wanted to sink into it, into Kael, until nothing in the world remained but him.

Kael couldn’t stop smiling when Magina was this cuddly. After his first shock he had relaxed and was clearly enjoying what the Invoker had prepared. When Magina leaned over to kiss him, he was happy. Content to sit here, in the soft glow of fairy lights, with Magina by his side.

[aditublog]

my writing - dota - fictober day 19

"Do we have a deal?"

The Queen of Pain leaned forward with her hands on her hips. “I don’t think you know what having a deal with me means.” She smirked, delighted that the Silencer was talking to her, even though he was his usual uptight self. He had stopped to ignore her. Okay, it was only to discuss some tactics, but still.

The Silencer’s features darkened impossibly. He looked so serious, it was amusing. “Yes or no?”

“Honey, we have a deal.” Flipping her hair, the Queen of Pain walked past him, deliberately brushing her wings against his shoulder. He didn’t move away.

She loved to tease him, couldn’t stop with it. He was like a drug to her. It probably was because he wasn’t easy. His eyes had never, not once, strayed to her tits or her arse or anywhere at all. When he looked at her, he was focussed on her face. If he looked at her at all.

It made her want to get him to look. She was sexy, of course she was, but the Silencer was strangely immune to it. It was a challenge, one she couldn’t ignore.

Hips swaying, just in case, she stalked away. She could’ve blinked forward but that would’ve been boring. She always tried to walk around the Silencer so she was longer in his vicinity. He had to look, eventually.

Further on the road, just behind a bend, the Queen of Pain stopped. They would prepare an ambush here. An ambush in which she was supposed to be the bait. The Silencer, together with a few others, would watch over her and then spring the trap.

That was the deal. She stayed as long as possible to lure their enemies here, to make them see her as easy prey. Only in the last possible second was she supposed to blink out. In return, the Silencer would make sure she would be able to get out, would never leave her out of his sight, would protect her if necessary.

The Queen of Pain didn’t feel like she needed his protection but with this deal she had gotten him to look. Not just at her face, but at her. She swore she could feel is gaze, cool and calm. She wriggled her hips, then she stretched lazily, turning this way and that to give the Silencer a good view on her body. Playing with him was fun.

When she sensed danger closing in, she didn’t stop her show, that would’ve been too obvious, but she was ready. She might be sexy but she was deadly dangerous as well. No one who had ever underestimated her due to her appearance lived to talk about it.

The Silencer had never underestimated her. He had suggested to use her as bait because he knew that she’d come out of it alive. He knew she was strong enough, fast enough, to make this ambush a success. She liked that about him.

Damn, but she liked him. Now she just at to find out how to get to him, how to make him like her in return. She hoped that was possible but as long as the Silencer didn't tell her to back off (which he hadn't, no matter how much she had teased him), she'd not give up.

[aditublog]

my writing - dota - fictober day 9

“Sounds like a you problem.” Small eyes kept staring ahead, not bothering to switch focus.

“If it is my problem, it is yours as well.”

An amused snort. “That's what you say.”

“Fucking shit, we share a body! How can anything be a me problem?” A growl that had no effect, though it rumbled menacingly.

“It's a you problem when I say it is.” “And when I say it is our problem?”

“You are wrong.”

Before the discussion could continue, they were interrupted. “If you don't stop arguing, I will be your problem.” The Troll Warlord couldn't stand the constant bickering. It was making him crazy because it never stopped. The Ogre Magi with his two heads was never quiet and the two heads were rarely in agreement.

While the Troll was trying to concentrate, the two voices were like a spear through his head.

The first head directed the words at the second. “Sounds like a you problem as well, because I didn't start this discussion.”  

“I'm sure the Troll Warlord makes sure it is our problem.” The second head was more intelligent than the first or simply more perceptive. In any case, they were both annoying. Because they still didn't stop.

For a second, the Troll Warlord debated if he should truly shut the Ogre up. But they were allies, he couldn't kill him and short of killing, nothing would stop the two heads. He lengthened his strides but though the Ogre Magi was clumsy he was tall enough to keep up. Running away didn't work either, it seemed.

Instead, the two heads were arguing again, their voices painfully loud.

No killing, no running away, no threatening, nothing worked. It was time for more desperate measures, preferably something that didn't involve the Troll having to kill himself. While walking, the Troll Warlord searched for the right place. He was becoming more and more desperate. He just wanted the voices to stop. He wanted some quiet. There, finally, his nerves on edge, he found what he had been looking for.

It was a nest, from some kind of bird, but it was huge. It was up in the trees, high enough not to be in the direct line of sight but low enough that the Troll Warlord could reach it with a jump and a bit of climbing. He had to be fast, this could as well go wrong.

“Ogre Magi, look over there, I think I saw movement.” The Troll pointed in the opposite direction of the nest and as soon as the Ogre turned, he slipped behind the tree with the nest.

“Movement? I see nothing.” “That's because you are stupid.”

The Troll Warlord put his axes into his belt, then he jumped and grabbed the lowest branch with both hands.

“Stupidity doesn't make anyone blind, does it?” “You are the living proof that it does.”

The Troll Warlord swung up and onto the branch. The Ogre was still staring into the woods.

“Do you see something?” “No.”

“Then you are stupid, too.” “Maybe there was nothing.”

The Troll Warlord climbed higher.

“But the Troll said there was something.” “His eyes are probably better than yours.”

The Troll Warlord scrambled into the nest and curled together, making himself as small as possible so he wouldn't be visible from the ground.

“Hey, Troll, you sure you...” The Ogre Magi had obviously turned to where the Troll had been standing a few moments before.

“He is gone.” “I can see that.”

“I wasn't so sure, since you seem to be too stupid to see.”

The Troll Warlord closed his eyes and wished that the Ogre would stop talking finally.

At least the head didn't react to the further insult. “Where did he go?” “How should I know?”

“Of course you don't know. We have to find him.” “Yes. We do.”

And then, after what seemed like an eternity, the voices of the Ogre Magi died away. Still the Troll Warlord waited, to be sure. Then he carefully peeped over the edge of the nest. The Ogre was gone. The forest around him was blissfully quiet.

Not caring about how daft it was to hide in a tree to escape an annoying ally, the Troll Warlord hurried in the opposite direction from where the Ogre had gone. He wanted to be as far away from him as possible. And he had absolutely no bad conscience that he had left him alone in this forest. The only emotion he felt at the moment was relief that the voices had stopped.

[aditublog]

my writing - dota - fictober day 5

"No, anything but that." Zeus cursed under his breath when he saw the flickering of a flame on the road, a flame in the shape of a human. Or at least of a creature resembling a human.

He was a god, why did he have to meet the one creature who could again and again show him that he wasn't invincible? He hated it, he hated the Ember Spirit but no matter how disgusted he was by himself for admitting this weakness, he turned and moved away from the flickering form as fast as possible. Because the Ember Spirit could appear at this exact spot any time. And then Zeus would be doomed.

Behind him there was a second flame that must've appeared just now.

The form made of fire wasn't dangerous in itself, it was merely the fact that the Ember Spirit used them as anchor points he could move to with lightning speed. Zeus could pass the form without any harm. He wouldn't dare touch it, it consisted of fire after all, but the heat of it didn't reach very far.

That the Ember Spirit had him between two of these forms spoke of the fact he knew that Zeus was here. And he either wanted to threaten him, or to outright kill him. If it was the latter he could've acted by now, could've already been here. It meant it was mockery, to remind him, the Lord of Heave, the Father of Gods, that he could be defeated the same as everyone else.

Angrily Zeus balled his hands into fists and then, not because it had any effect but because it released some of his anger, he threw a lightning-bolt at the flame in the shape of the Spirit. He almost expected the Ember Spirit to appear in answer to his stupid action. Zeus held his breath, but nothing happened, the flame glimmered slowly and steadily.

Since the chance of him meeting the Spirit increased with every second he stayed here, Zeus hurried past the form and along the way. He was angry at himself that he let his fear rule him like it did, even though it was justified. He was a god! But the Ember Spirit was stronger than him. He was only glad no one saw him fleeing like a mere mortal in the face of danger.

[lasanha-do-lidl]

Day 3 is for Agility! The type of hero I play the least lol