Mind over Matter - A DotA battle between two epic heroes
AN: To those who're following my HP fic: 'The Man-Who-Conquered', I'm not abandoning it or anything. This is my first fanfic that I put up on the DotA site. Thought I'd put it up here too for any Warcraft fans to enjoy.. P.S., try and guess who the two heroes are.
The gentle swish of strong, green trees; The low, steady breathing and creaking of the Ancient Protector; The wind shifting the cape of a Druid of the Talon; The rhythmic scraping of numerous treant feet on lush ground;
None of these escape my notice. I couldn't have known these movements any better had they been my own, yet I feel no kinship.
We cross the lazy river and I immediately sense that the air is different – dead. There is no life on this side of the river. I observe the Spirit Tower standing firm upon the blight. I fancy that I can even hear the anguish of the souls within, waiting to inflict their suffering on the living.
The Scourge arrives. Shambling ghouls driven in front of a puny Necromancer. After so many battles, they all seem to look alike, but I trust my axes more than my eyes.
I throw my stone axe. I see it flying straight to the torso of the leading ghoul. I hear the dull thud of stone on flesh, along with the sharper crack of stone meeting bone. I know where to throw next. As always, my next hit is faster and more precise than the last. The sound of shattering bones fills the deathly air. They feel no pain, only mindless hunger.
My axe hits the Necromancer, and I feel its essence. So feeble, so rotten! My next axe beheads the long-dead creature, freeing the trapped soul from its torment. I feel no pity. Battle, that's all I live for.
Our group turns to the Spirit Tower. The touch of souls hurt the living deeply, yet they trudge forward and try to tear the tower down with bark and staff. My arms itch to get near, so that I can beat down the supports with strong swings rather than with slightly weaker throws, but I restrain myself. The opponent hasn't revealed itself.
I feel slight vibrations on the crumbling blight. The next batch is arriving. This time, I hear the flapping of graceless wings. I move back out of sight, anticipating the real battle to come, watching the Sentinels fall one by one. Well, I'm not here to protect them.
As I move forward with the next batch of poor trees heading to their deaths, I glimpse it. A black creature with a jagged face; a line of spikes running above its head; two thin hands holding a sparkling staff each; a centaur-like body with four hooved legs; It looks too bulky to be lifted by the single pair of black leathery wings.
It notices me and launches its attack. The movement is childishly easy to read, yet I make no effort to dodge the black essence as I throw my axe. Its attack is not particularly strong. I hear the chip of stone on stone! So, this strange creature is made of stone, probably obsidian. More interestingly, I feel its tremendous craving for magic. Yet it is careful in attacking me. A smart one then, but I have felt its weakness.
I throw my next axe to the joint under its wings and it jerkily flies up to evade my axe. It is quick for its appearance. However, this confirms my feeling.
My arms move faster. I enjoy their speed; they move from hard-built instinct. I simply ignore the attacks it makes, as mine are surely the stronger. As I thought, it is too heavy to evade all my axes and I hear the dull, throbbing thud of two of my axes finding their mark.
The creature crashes to the ground, just managing to stand on its four legs. It is not built for the ground either, I observe. I sprinkle the next axe with my trademark dust made from blindweed, and throw it. It ducks to avoid the lethal throw to the head. However, that throw wasn't meant to hit. My dust has settled. I move in for the kill.
It waves a staff blindly. Suddenly, the deathly air, the crumbling ground and the decaying stench are replaced with a world I cannot comprehend: a vast space full of stars and comets; colours, shapes and sounds that overload my mind and senses! I try to calm my mind.
In a matter of seconds, I find myself back on the ground I'm familiar with. That was just some kind of vision, I decide. Yet, my mind does not respond as fast as it usually does.
The creature is back in the air, and it attacks with much more confidence than before. Its attack glows green with some magic, so I quickly jump left to avoid it, while throwing an axe at its flank. It seems to know I would do this. Its next attack is much faster, aimed at the leg I just placed on the ground. I cannot avoid it.
The glow hits me and my mind is jarred more than my leg! That glow contained the insane hunger I felt earlier. As my axe hits its torso, I feel its essence once again. Something is strange! A part of the essence feels identical to my own!
I quickly move back and make my plan. It may have stolen my style when it cast that spell on me. But I doubt that any construct of the Lich King has the skill and reflexes to fully use my potential.
I bring the memories of countless battles to the front of my mind and I enter into a trance. The axes start to fly so fast from my hands that my eyes work hard to track them.
As I thought, the wretched creature knows my style and flies up to avoid my axes. But then again, its body cannot match my speed and my axes rain one after another on its wings. It crashes to the ground again, weakened more than I.
As I approach it, it doesn't try to get up but throws more glowing orbs at me, just as I throw an enchanted axe at its neck. I am too close to avoid them! I brace myself. The mental shock! I have never felt anything like it! My muscles, which I trained hard to resist swords and spears; my hide, which I cured so painstakingly to resist magical attacks; these are of no use at all in preventing these assaults into my mind.
I am close enough. It bats away my enchanted axe with unnatural speed and precision, probably stolen from me. I first strike it left wing, crumpling it. My next strike cracks its other wing, while I take its glowing-orb attack at point blank range. This time, the attack is much weaker, and it corresponds to the reduced essences I sense upon touching it.
I aim for its head, and it is not fast enough to evade my blow. The sweet crack of its stone skull boosts my confidence. Still in my trance, I make short work of its legs and torso before it recovers.
I pull back for my final blow, thinking that this creature had almost been a worthy opponent, when it once again casts the vision on me.
To my weakened mind, this time it is worse than the last and I can feel my trance leaking away amidst the confusing surroundings. I cling to my mind, knowing that the creature cannot walk or fly away, and prepare myself for the taste of victory.
The surroundings right themselves and I instantly throw an axe at its head at the same time it swishes its staves downward, no doubt trying its last trick. As my axe hits the tip of its horn, I feel that its essences have somehow been restored. I feel a strange premonition as I feel its essence descending upon me.
Instantly, my mind is flooded with strange visions and memories of countless intricate phenomenon and beasts. I can only think that it is forcing its entire knowledge and comprehension of reality on my weakened mind. My mind cannot cope with this level of complexity! I throw my arms over my head. My brain gives no command to my legs to resist as they give away. As I fall to the ground, as the blackness of death envelops me, I am left with my final thought.
I CANNOT UNDERSTAND…
