Trials

"Rook, are you sure about this?"

"I'm an elf. Of course I'm sure."

"And you're playing the species card."

"Says the person who's always flying on a dragon."

Rook hoped Bastion would shut up. He'd been hoping that for the last five minutes. But despite that hope, the child kept tagging along, filled with the boundless optimism of his race and age. For a moment, he considered setting one of his ravens on him.

"You really sure about this?"

And that moment dragged on. But fighting his urges, Rook stayed his hand. He kept walking through the halls of the Great Library.

"Rook?"

"We've been fighting in the bloody trials for five years," he murmured. "And no champions for the Army of the Light have been decided."

"But we've got to be the best and all that," Bastion pointed out. "To fight the Dharkwave Horde, we-"

"Have to partake in the Trials of Strife until the Keepers of the Code deem us ready," Rook interrupted. "I know that you little twerp. I just want to make sure they still remember that."

"But-"

"And what about you?" Rook continued. "You're a mortal, and you've lost five years of your life to this."

Bastion shrugged. Either a sign of indifference, or avoidance to the question, Rook reflected. Considering how Bastion was now in his teens, and how Caprice still hadn't learnt to dress modestly, he suspected it was a case of the latter.

Well, let's see the keepers avoid this, the elf reflected, as he approached the door to the inner sanctum. He stood still, and a moment later, kicked it open.

Bastion stared at the elf, aghast. "The door was unlocked!"

"Dramatic effect kid," Rook answered, putting an arrow to his bow. "You might want to learn it if you ever want to bang a girl."

Bastion made a spluttering noise, but Rook barely noticed. Instead, he was too intent on analysing the sanctum.

"Huh."

It was drab, dreary, and circular. At the centre of the circle was a bearded man who looked like every other bearded man that appeared in human literature, as far as Rook could tell. A keeper of the code. An administrator of the Trials of Strife. And as he looked up from his desk, as he met Rook's gaze, the elf decided he was a git as well.

"The door was unlocked," he said.

"Told you so," Bastion murmured.

"Yeah, well, you never answered my knocks," the elf said, walking forward. "Or my letters."

"Hmm?"

"The Trials of Strife you waste of bone," the elf snapped. "Five years. Five bloody years of training for a conflict that never seems to be coming."

"Oh, that?" the administrator asked. "That was solved long ago."

Rook felt a rush of ice run down his back. "What?"

"Oh yes," he said. "The Trials of Strife have ended. You provided us with entertainment, and are honoured alongside the Heroes of Newerth."

"What?" Rook snapped.

"My dear boy, for an elf, you sure are slow," the administrator chucked. "You're here for our entertainment. To fight until the audience tires of it, while we prepare a new arena for a new audience."

Rook put an arrow to his bow. "Tell me why I shouldn't just kill you right now."

"Because then you'd lose out on the merchandising rights."

Rook kept the bow drawn. He tightened his grip as the administrator reached into his desk. Even as the items piled up on said desk, he kept the arrow notched.

"What is this?" Bastion asked.

"Action figures, comics, novels," the administrator said, gesturing to the gear. "All in your image. All dedicated to you." He handed a book to Bastion. "You may like this one my lad. It has you and your…friend, on a certain…adventure."

For a moment, Rook wondered which 'friend' the geyser was referring to. Seeing Bastion open the book, seeing him blush, he realized whom.

"And you, Rook, of the Grey Elves," said the man. He handed him an artbook. "People love dark, mysterious figures. We were able to publish this. An artbook, dedicated to you. You and your four ravens."

"I have five Ravens," the elf murmured, "not four."

"Fine, we'll correct that in the next edition."

Rook gripped his bow. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he slung it over his shoulder. And after that, he began skimming through the pages.

"So…" the administrator asked. "Any questions?"

"One," the elf murmured. "Just one."

He met the man's gaze. Stared at him with the intensity of an assassin. An elf. A participant in the Trials of Strife.

"How much is this stuff?"

A/N

I've noticed certain trends in the MOBA genre recently (as per its sudden influx of games) and that's the no. of times lore is said to be integral to the setting. Dawngate, Prime World, Strife, the latter even getting a comic. Truth be told, I'm kind of meh about it. The presence of developed background lore for MOBAs goes at least as far back as League of Legends. So while transmedia may be the next logical step, I'm holding out for a MOBA with a storyline mode in the game, designed for singleplayer. Practically every game genre has taken steps in that direction, so it'll be interesting to see MOBAs take similar steps.

Anyway, came up with this in the context of such thoughts.