This is my first DOTA 2 story and possibly my last. This is somewhat of a pilot. If people seem to like the premise of this then I will continue. If not, I'll find a way to turn this into a one-shot. Somehow. Anyways, please enjoy and leave your feedback.
The Band of Brothers was camped out in the forest, all five of them sat around the campfire. It was a tradition they had created over years of service with one another. Every night, they'd sit around the fire, watching as the flames dance and embers spark and fly through the air. They'd tell tales, reminiscent about the days of yonder years past or they'd just sit in silence, enjoying each other's company nonetheless. Other nights, they might participate in drunken revelry, linking arms and singing the songs of old but that was from a long time ago. Tonight, they were all attending to their weapons. Each of them had their own stories to tell, each of their weapons had their clouded, shrouded history.
Yurnero. The Juggernaut. He sat furthest from the fire, iridescent sword in his lap, whetstone smoothly skating down the surface of the blade, each pass making a satisfying shlick. Sparks danced from the blade every time the whetstone slid past. The fire gently outlined his muscled, scarred body, every part of him covered in the marks of battle. He attended to the blade with utmost care. The blade, aside from himself, was the only thing that was left of the Isle of Masks, his homeland long gone, disappeared beneath the waves. He was exiled from the mysterious island for defying a corrupt lord but this punishment saved his life. In a night of vengeful magic, the ancient isle simply slipped beneath the waves.
Sven. The Rogue Knight. Short brown hair gently parted to the left, horned helm resting by his side. He sat closest to the fire, hunched over the Outcast Blade, a duel-edged, two-handed broadsword tinged with a blue hue that matched the armour that he wore with such pride. He had no whetstone; instead, he idly cleaned the blade with a rag, careful not to accidentally cut the rag with the blade. This was the blade he had taken from the Vigil Knights, the blade he had used to shatter the Sacred Helm. The blade he had when he strode from Vigil Keep. Born a bastard in the Shadeshore Ruins, he walks the earth following no code of honour besides his own.
Azwraith. The Phantom Lancer. He sat to the left of Gondar. He used to be a simple fisherman. But war took him from his village. In the final battle against the Dread Magus Vorn, he alone destroyed the magus but at a great cost. He was the sole survivor from his village. The pike he so lovingly cared for was the very staff that had pierced the Magus' body and he would never trade it for naught. This was the only thing he had left to show for his victories. He kept the blade sharp and ready, ready for a fight at all times.
Riki. The Stealth Assassin. He sat opposite Azwraith. Born the middle child of a great dynasty, he was always renowned for his ability to slip away. He was small and agile and he cultivated his skill of disappearance. This served to his advantage, as one night, the royal family was betrayed and the whole line slaughtered. Save for Riki. His dagger was honed to perfection, thin enough to slip through the ribs, sharp enough to cut with ease and fearsome enough to make his enemies writhe.
However, there was one brother missing.
Gondar. The Bounty Hunter. His red bandana was pulled off of his face; he had long since stuffed it in his pack. He took great care in sharpening his Shuriken, knowing that it was still somewhat sharp. Not fine as a razor but sharp enough to do some damage should he slip. As he went over the blade, he examined it for any damage and fading in the blade's colouring. He always kept the edge of the blade coloured in a bright orange, for reasons he keeps hidden. Where he gets the pigment though, is an even greater question. Gondar's past remains a mystery to all. Including his brothers. His location now was unknown to them as well.
And so, they went about their business. The sound of sharpened blades filling the quiet forest air. A cool breeze blew across the camp and the fire danced, sending a shower of sparks up into the air, floating through the air until they were extinguished by a stray wind. The moon was full and hung high in the sky. In the foliage that surrounded them, they heard a rustle and this stirred up the Band of Brothers into action. They all prepared themselves for whatever might emerge. But, instead of some unknown assailant, it was simply the missing member, "Brothers! It's me! I've returned." Called out a voice. Emerging from the bushes, Gondar stepped into the light. The band calmed and returned to the business of sharpening and polishing their arsenal.
"What news do you bring Gondar?" Asks Sven, voice deep and bold, words said with a measured grace.
"Nothing Sven. No bounties to collect, no jobs for us to complete." Gondar replied, "There's naught for us to do for now."
"Are you sure?" Asks Riki, eager for action, "Have you checked with Ostarion? Are you sure that he doesn't have a need for hired help?"
"You mean the Skeleton King? No, his lust for souls is sated for now."
"What about Balanar? What does he say?" Azwraith demands, "Surely his keen eyes have spotted prey."
"None. Not even a caravan. They fear to venture through these woods. I suggest we get packed as soon as possible and find greener pastures."
"Have you heard any word from Lyralei?" Sven stands up anxiously, addressing Gondar, "Any letters?"
"Why do you care?" Riki scoffs indignantly, "Why the sudden care for the Windranger?"
"Do you not remember?" Interjects Azwraith, "How could've you forgotten? That night in Misrule Inn?"
"Oh." Riki says, grinning like a madman, "That night. My memories are coming back now. Though, mostly I remember the screaming. Ohh Sven!" Riki imitates, pitch rising to match a woman's, "I love you Sven!" Sven looks at Riki with a look of mild annoyance, shaking his head slightly with disapproval, "What say you?" Riki addressed Yurnero, though he remains silent, still remaining on the task of attending to his blade.
"Don't speak to him when he's focusing on his sword." Whispers Gondar, "You know what he's like."
"Right, right." Riki says, waving his hands about as if to say 'well, of course'.
"Anyways brothers, it seems like we are, once again, left with no work." Gondar says, sighing heavily as he does so, "We haven't seen a hint of gold for months. Nothing. No caravans, no hits, no assassinations, nothing! Not a job!" Gondar groans in frustation. The group is silent. They take their places back around the fire with Bounty Hunter sitting opposite Sven.
"So what are we to do now?" Goes Azwraith.
"Perhaps we should consider talking to Traxex. She's a hunter." Suggests Azwraith, "Perhaps the Drow Ranger will agree to buying some new pelts or animal hide. She might even give us a good price for it." The brothers look at him with a look of annoyance, "What? It's a good idea. Gondar is the best tracker of them all, remember? With his skill, we could find some Satyrs in no time!"
"We could always try…" Riki pauses, thinking over what he was about to say. He looks at the brothers individually. He leans in closer to the fire and whispers, "We could try to kidnap someone." The brothers look at him with a look of disgust, "Think about it brothers. Really think about it. Think of how many nobles there are out there with children. What would they be willing to pay to get their child back? We could be rich! This might actually work!" The brothers mumble to one another. A kidnapping? Sure, they had raided caravans, pulled off assassinations but they had never abducted an innocent child. But then they thought of the rewards. The richer nobles would definitely be willing to pay a hefty price to see their child returned unharmed. They chattered, discussing about whether or not they should do so. And for a second, it seemed like they were in agreement with Riki's idea. In their discussion, they didn't notice Yurnero stop sharpening and stand. Just as they asked Riki for a plan, Yurnero buried his blade in the logs of the fire, sending a great noise through the air. This snapped them out of their thoughts.
"We do not abduct children." He says plainly, plucking his blade from the flames, "We are not simple highwaymen." Goes his deep voice, "We have honour." He shamed them all for even thinking of the idea, "If we starve, so be it." He returns to his position and starts sharpening the blade once more.
"Yurnero's right. We have honour. We don't abduct children, we don't kill innocents and we don't hurt those that don't deserve it." Sven says soberly, ashamed that he would even think of doing such a thing, "We need another idea. Have you checked with the shopkeeper?" He says to Gondar.
"No. But I doubt he has anything. All he does it try to peddle his useless wares for outrageous prices. Nothing will come of it."
"Are you sure?" Sven asks, "Either way, we must check. Get some sleep, we'll set off for the shopkeeper's store in the morning."
They left before the sun had even risen above the horizon. The sky was cast in a dull grey and the forest around them was silent. Not even the insects dared to chirp. Bounty Hunter led the group, occasionally stopping for him to climb a tree, to make sure they were heading the right direction. Juggernaut was at the back, his emotionless mask not betraying any feelings. Every now and then, Gondar would call them to a stop and scout ahead, fading from sight and returning minutes later. They trekked hard and fast, through sunrise till noon.
The Shopkeeper was a pudgy, fat, greasy man. He was dressed in thick, fine fabric of green and white. On his head, a little cap rested. He had set up camp in a clearing and his stall was filled to the brim with all sorts of items and oddities.
"Ahh! My favourite customers have arrived! What do you so require? Do you need to be swift? Then for you, I have speed beyond measure!" He greeted them with his customary monologue, "Would you be strong? Then I can give you the might to overpower any foe! Would you be wise? Then come closer and I can unlock your inner cunning! What does a hero truly need? That is for you to decide." And with that, he gave a little bow and welcomed them to his shop.
"Good to see you too." Mutters Riki.
"Any news?" Sven asks as they all circle around the stall.
"What type of news? Do you require..."
"We're not here to buy. We're looking for work." Azwraith interrupts.
"Oh! Work you say! Well, I have nothing, I am a simple shopkeeper, I wouldn't know of any such things." This sends the brothers into a sour mood and as they prepare to set off after a worthless journey, the shopkeeper speaks, "But I have heard of an artefact, one of great power and value. It is said that whoever wields it will be granted the gift of immortality!"
"What?" Juggernaut demands, "What is this artefact you speak of? What is it's name? Who wants it?"
"Slow down my friend, have patience! It is called the Aegis of the Immortal and as for who wants it, I have no doubt that there are many men willing to bid upon it. After all, who doesn't want to live forever?"
"Where is it?" Gondar asks.
"It's far from here, very far. Past the Wailing Mountains. North West of here. It will take weeks to reach there. But, I must warn you, it is guarded by a fearsome beast. His name is Roshan. Many have tried to take the Aegis. Many have tried but none have made it back. I would strongly advise against it, after all, you are my favourite customers!"
"You hear that?" Riki says, a smile appearing on his face, "Looks like we have a job."
"Perfect! We'll need supplies though, enough to last us for months and a mule to carry it all." Azwraith states excitedly.
"Are we sure about this? There's no guarantee that this 'Aegis' even exists. Even if it does, then what about the problem with Roshan?" Sven says.
"Don't be so negative Sven. It's a long journey. Who knows, we might even run into Windranger." Gondar jests, "Her 'skills' might prove useful." He says with a snort of laughter.
"Shut up." Sven retorts, "It's better than having no one Gondar. But," Sven turns to the shopkeeper, "How much would someone pay for this 'Aegis'?"
"Depends on the man. A rich lord might pay 50,000 gold. A king might even offer a hundred-thousand. An Emperor, maybe a million." The brothers' eyes all grew to the size of saucepans.
"It appears the matter is settled." Yurnero says heartily, clapping Sven on the shoulder, "We know anyone in the Wailing Mountains?"
"Raijin!" Riki immediately replies but the group looks at him with confusion, "Thunderkeg?" Still, they remain silent, "For crying out loud, Storm Spirit!"
"Ohh." Was the collective response. Even the shopkeeper joined in, "Can we trust him?" Was the collective question.
"Last I checked, he was a friendly enough person but I haven't seen him in a while. Many things could've changed." He says, unsure of himself. Perhaps Storm Spirit couldn't be trusted, "But, if not him, we've still got lots of territory to cover. We might meet others."
"Well! Brothers, let's get prepared! We have an Aegis to acquire!" Sven shouts, "Don't forget to stock up on ale!'
Well, that concludes chapter one. Please leave a review stating what you think and whether or not I should continue. Thanks for reading.