Chapter 3: Magina's First Mission
It wasn't because Magina didn't like to fight, he just didn't like fighting a handsome clone of himself, a replicate to be exact. He sparred with his own mirror image, countering its array of swift punches and devilishly attractive smiles with his own. This was how most of the Radiant warriors train, sparring with their replicates to test their own skills against... well, their own skills. Magina weaved smoothly as the replicate jabbed at his head, almost touching his cheek. Magina grinned as he moved in closer, unleashing a barrage of precise strikes aimed at the clone's mana points, which would shut down its mana. However, the clone was an exact copy, able to foresee Magina's strikes with relative ease, and blocked them all with ESP precision. The clone parried a punch from Magina and weaved in, lowering its body and swung an uppercut. The fist caught Magina square in the chin, the knuckles splashed his face as it became water, but its force was still enough to bash Magina's brain in. Magina fell backwards with a grunt, falling on his buttocks on the dirt. The clone grinned at the downed original with a sarcastic smile, imitating Magina's original smile with accuracy. Then the clone deformed into a contorted blob of water and sploshed into the ground, leaving only a soaked patch of dirt.
"Gah!" groaned Magina as he felt his sore lower jaw "Master Morphling! Take it easy on the replicates! I can't bear to bash my own handsome face in!" Magina sourly rubbed the stinging bruise where the replicate had hit him, a blotch of purple on his orange skin. The rumble of gushing water was heard as the Morphling moved towards the Anti-Mage, a freak of nature it was. The Morphling was a being made of entirely pure water, yet its sentience made it no less intelligent than the greatest of human philosophers. Its torso was manlike, with water extending as makeshift arms, its head was a mere extension of its blob body, with sharp eyes of light. It had no feet, but merely supported its fluid body with a vortex of water swirling beneath it, which aid the creature move with fluid motion, coral-like spikes protruded from its shoulders, like crowns of thorns. The Morphling merely shook its watery head in response to Magina, "Young one," it said, it's voice seemed gurgled and drowned by water "Such undisciplined demeanor will only hinder your progress, so do not let your vanity best you during combat, for your life is worth more than a thousand of your chiseled faces."
"But Master, with all due respect you have no face, so how could you possibly understand?"
"Cease your pestering blabber, now let's get on with your training."
Next, Morphling had Magina squat with a condensed bubble of water the size of a man weighing on top of his shoulders, the Anti-Mage gritted his teeth as he struggled to push the immense weight upwards, the bubble made his legs rattle from exhaustion, and finally his legs gave in and Magina fell flat on the ground, with the huge bubble splashing spectacularly over him, soaking him completely. Magina pawed the dirt with his face flat, his breathing was heavy, lactic acid burned his legs as if they were on fire, and Magina growled in pain. The Morphling drifted above him, watching him with a seemingly blank expression, void of emotions, yet the ancient elemental was among the most knowledgeable of the Radiant, for its age was centuries old, and its experience in combat made it more than qualified to train the rookies of the Radiant, alongside Lanaya, to become the next generation of guardians of the Earth, for as long as it needs protection. The Morphling's massive watery form blocked the sun as Magina turned over on his back, he could see the light shimmering through the liquid body, indeed the Morphling was entirely made of water.
"The strength in your human limbs are rather mediocre, though I commend your effort," it said "Few could withstand the weight of a full-grown centaur on their backs."
"What!" exclaimed Magina, he was in disbelief "You made the bubble weigh that much? How could you? I could've snapped my spine beneath it!"
"Ah, but you didn't,which is a good sign, however a centaur's weight should be child's play for any warrior, no matter the reasons. You have much to endure and learn, Magina. Remember that."
"Yes, Master." groaned Magina, he hissed as the stinging sensation in his legs continued, he wished instead of the rough dirt which his face was buried in, he could rest on the lap of a fair maiden with soft, silken skin and a soothing voice, but reality was cruel, and so was Morphling's training. The only thing close to a fair maiden around was the ever subtle Lanaya, who sat cross-legged on a log, overseeing Magina's training. Magina peered at her, her gaze was steely with her purple eyeliners, and the scarf concealed any obvious signs of smirking or frowning, making it impossible for Magina to tell whether she was upset or amused. However, it was certain that she was not at all pleased with Magina's progress, as he was not improving any faster, nor was he bothering to pay attention to the constant lectures that she and Morphling barraged him with, for he was always too distracted by the prospect of burying his face in a woman's bosom. The Morphling extended its arms and sploshed them on Magina's legs, Magina sighed as a cooling sensation took over the pain and soon it was a distant memory.
Another figure came into his view, Lanaya stood there, arms crossed with her elegant purple hair blowing in the wind. Magina attempted an innocent smile, but Lanaya glared in return, seemingly sapping away at him with her stern gaze. Magina hurriedly bounced up, collecting whatever dignity he had left. He smiled, a good smiler he was, but wasn't good enough for the fabled Templar Assassin, her fierce glare made her radiate with a torrential aura, and Magina backed away slowly.
"Magina," she said all of a sudden, chilling Magina.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Do you expect to get any stronger with your current rate of progress? Or are you just hoping for your future to be riddled with easy battles that wouldn't even require you to bat an eye?" her words were cold, but they were the truth.
"With all due respect, ma'am, I'm very confident that my past training with the monks of my temple have equipped me well for the battles to come. I've been training under them for many donkey years, and the monks would spar with me tirelessly for hours, some of them even said I was the best fighter amongst them all."
"That may be true, but you're forgetting..." Lanaya paused briefly, she shuddered at the thoughts of the horrors that the Dire brought forth, "You won't be opposing mere warriors, you'll be fighting Hell itself."
"From what I've heard, some of them don't come directly from Hell."
"Don't be a fool, Magina. I've been combating the Dire longer than you know, and from experience I've seen what they could do to us, what staggering powers they had. Magina, you better continue to train." And with those words, Lanaya turned and walked away, leaving Magina speechless, he could only stare at her fleeting form.
"Well now," said Morphling "That went well, so let us continue."
The Radiant's training ground was acres long, with trimmed grass as the only foliage, its landscape was vast and flat, straw dummies on stakes lined symmetrically, while there were still archery targets laden with arrows. Magina was ordered to run laps around the training ground's perimeter, an exhausting task for a average person, yet Magina kept at a constant pace even as he jogged a dozen laps. The sound of arrow feathers whistling through the wind could be heard from the archery area, Magina eyed at a ginger-haired woman, her orange hair was tied into a pony-tail, she was dressed in leather clothes with a waving, forest green robe and point-tipped boots and leather bracers. She was wielding an emerald bow, its surface was smooth and finely crafted with intricate wave designs, jewels decorated the tips and it shined like polish in the morning. Lyralei the Windrunner grinned with every bulls-eye she hit, her arrow shafts zipped like diving wasps, with blinding speed and precision. Magina slowed his jog to watch, admiring her proficiency with her bow, it was almost as if the wind obeyed her, allowing her arrows to fly where she wanted, without the troubles caused by friction. Magina couldn't help himself, and he blinked over to the archery range, with a suave smile dashing across his face.
"How goes thy archery, o' fabled Windrunner?" began Magina. Lyralei cringed slightly at his sudden appearance, almost losing her grip.
"Oh, it is you, Anti-Mage," she replied shakily " Good, how is your training?"
"Oh, going splendidly well as usual. You're looking lovely today."
"That's what you always say, everyday."
"Ah, but today you're looking exceptionally divine."
Lyralei rolled her eyes, smiling at Magina's silly advances. He thought he was the most charming gentleman on the face of planet, with an ego that topped the vainest of gods. Yet, it was nice sometime, for Lyralei to have someone compliment her, everyday. "Aren't you in the middle of training, Magina? Does Lanaya let you casually stop as you please?" Magina walked over to her, until he was only an arm's length away from her side.
"Can't I stop by to say hello, once in a while?"
"Like you usually do while you train? Like, everyday?"
"Er... yes?"
Lyralei chuckled, a sweet, innocent chuckle she had. "Well you'd best get back to training," she said, turning her gaze back to the targets and strung her bow "We're in the middle of wartime, don't forget, Magina. Keep your eyes on the target." she let loose an arrow, straight for the target, speeding forward, but as the arrow was an inch away from the bulls-eye, Magina's hand shot out and caught it by his fingers, he had blinked there. Lyralei sighed, peeved by Magina's antics. The Anti-Mage walked over, with the arrow in hand, offering it to her like a rose, he bowed as a measure.
"I do keep my eyes on my targets, milady," said Magina "I certainly hope you will not miss your next shot."
Lyralei snatched the arrow back, "Thank you, Magina," she said, with a warm smile to mask her annoyance "Now please leave me be before I aim for my next target, and I assure you, I won't miss."
"And what would that target be?"
"Your crotch."
Magina cringed at the unnerving reply, with a nervous smile he waved the Windrunner goodbye and in an instant blinked away, leaving the seemingly satisfied, and relieved archer to do her business. Magina blinked yards away from Lyralei, he sighed in relief, grateful for the ever so useful talent he had for escaping. Yet his moment of peace was disrupted by an ice, cold splash of water to his face, which hit him like a bucket of water, he reeled back and gasped for air. His face was drenched and his hair sagged miserably, he looked to see his master, Morpling, before him in his watery glory.
"Enough dawdling, Magina," it said sternly "Back to your jog, and this time double the effort."
"Yes, Master."
The sun glared into his eyes as he continued his jog, sweat drenched his vest and his feet burned after what seemed like a hundred or so laps around the acres of the training ground. His eardrums throbbed, his mouth was parched, his heart thumped like a beating drum. Yet Morphling ignored his groans and pants as it casually drifted alongside him, tireless thanks to its elemental form. Magina felt his thirst strangle his throat dry, and looking at his master's watery form made it worse. He wished that the Morphling could hit him with a blast of water once more, or perhaps allow him to dive into its liquid body, anything to ease the dryness that tormented him. After a hundred more laps, which took a span of hours to complete, Magina collapsed on the grass like a rag doll, his fatigue made his legs burn and his skin sticky with sweat. The Morphling drifted above the Anti-Mage, from below, Magina could hear the trickling sound of the water made as the elemental moved, like a flowing stream.
"Stamina," began the Morphling "Although I myself am free of its burdens, one should never neglect training it, aren't I right?"
Magina said nothing but let out a few wheezily breaths, he was too exhausted to speak.
"Come now," said the Morphling "You've done all that your body could possibly do, you need rest."
There it was, the magic word that Magina wanted to hear: Rest. With a groan he pushed himself up, the burning sensation still gnawed his legs like a pack of hungry dogs. He dusted himself up and bowed shakily to his trainer, then proceeded to wobbly walk away. It was already close to afternoon, as the looming sun was lazily drifting downwards the horizon. He let out a sigh of relief, glad that the tortures were over. Then he contemplated on what Lanaya said; why was she so fearful? Magina knew the Dire were beasts in battle, but what more could they offer other than demon spawns, spell casters and an occasional rogue or two? He hadn't had the honor of facing them in combat yet, considering he was only recruited weeks ago. Lanaya seemed unsettled when she talked to him, perhaps the Dire pose a greater threat than he thought? Ezalor did point out how insidious they were during the meeting, but how exactly would Magina know for sure? Could they really pose a threat to the entire world?
He made his way into the camps, it seemed that everyone hasn't even stirred since the morning's meeting. The tents were, as usual, stagnant amongst each other, amidst the large clearing, still as red teeth, surrounded by tree lines. He found his own tent, as splendidly red as the rest, with the golden insignia on its side. He stumbled through the flaps, exhausted from the training. He did a little spin and crashed on his springy bed, which squeaked with protest to the weight. Magina filled his face with the plush of his pillow, desiring nothing but rest and relaxation, not even a woman would rouse him up. Beds like the one he laid on he would considered luxurious, he recalled his days as a youth, when all he could sleep on at the monastery was a simple cloth mat on the freezing floor. The monks said that it strengthened their faith towards their beliefs, though Magina would've sometimes got a cramp in very uncomfortable places, he too, did not stray. Compared to that, the tent he had, though much more cramp than the monastery, was much more pleasant. He had a large wooden chest where his things were stored, including his armor and blades, a desk with a chair, and an overhanging, rusty oil lamp that lit the place.
He sighed, despite the comforts he had, he knew the monastery, before it was incinerated into ashes, was his true home. Their screams, the monks', still filled his head, and the image of his burning grandmaster and seniors, flailing helplessly in the flames, still haunted him. Magina was resting his body, but his mind was far from at ease. Their deaths were the reason why he sought out to enlist in the Radiant's ranks in the first place, in order to achieve his goal, his desire, of revenge. Although he was taught not to seek vengeance by his teachers, how could he live the rest of his life knowing that the killers were still out there? They were magic users, sorcerers, spell casters, and they were insidious. The monastery was famed for their magic-defeating fighting style, which made it all the more the greatest target for magic users. Magina couldn't catch a proper glimpse of the murderers that destroyed his monastery, but he recalled vague details, like there was a man who was tall, wielded a flaming scepter and had amber eyes, whilst he remembered a creature, grotesque and stout, with a nightmarish clawed left hand and had a raspy, wicked laugh. They were the ones that Magina sought to bring justice to, no matter what the cost.
The silence was then broken, the resonating heavy ring of a bronze bell came from outside. That meant there was someone at the watchtower, alerting everyone of something important, and the drill was to immediately flock to the tower as soon as possible. Procedures, Magina thought, were a bore. With a heavy sigh, he gathered the will to get up from his bed. The pain in his legs had faded away, but his steps were still wobbly. 'Damn they should cut the work I have to do,' Magina thought 'Anymore of this and I'm gonna end up shorter.' He peered outside, the others had already stirred from their tents and heading towards the tall tower of wood. Mangix and his barrels of ale passed him, the sloshing of the ale was in sync with his bouncy steps, he appeared more like a furry penguin who had too much to drink, his iron, segmented flail hung beside him as he made his way. Following behind was Rexxar, who had just returned from the Tinker's workshop, hinted by the tinge of metallic smell that came from him. His axes were no longer chipped, and were smooth enough to cut carrots. With a bearish grin, he slapped Magina hard on the back, causing him to stumble, again, and told him to move his lazy behind.
The heroes had congregated beneath the watchtower, a simple structure of grey brick and shilling roof. Magina could see some displeased heroes amongst them, with Davion being the grouchiest, he wasn't wearing his armor, and his shaven head was left bare to behold. His face was gaunt with a few scars, and had a goatee on his chin, he wore a simple brown linen shirt, which seemed much more comfortable then his suit of armor, his red and gold broadsword hung by his belt, his arms popped out of his sleeves with rippling muscles and bulging biceps, damn was Magina envious. It wasn't to say that he was scrawny, he was well built himself but his arms were puny compared to Davion's, or even Yurnero's, and yet those two were very small compared to Rexxar, but the Beast Master was...well, beastly.
The patting of small feet came from the tower steps, and Kardel's short figure came running down. Magina found it laughable that someone that only reached his waist height could participate in a war of large scale, yet who was he to judge? Kardel was the veteran and he was the rookie. Kardel peeled back his goggles, revealing his large, grey eyes that were extremely keen. The heroes looked upon him, waiting for whatever the dwarf had to say. Magina heard a suppressed giggle from behind him, coming from Rylai, the Crystal Maiden, she probably found the dwarf hilarious to see. Traxex was merely looking elsewhere, her cold eyes wavering away, she was still dressed in her dark hood. Mangix was ferociously chugging down his ale, rivers of it spilled from his furry cheeks, and without warning he let loose an audaciously loud burp that even echoed back, blowing Kardel's beard a bit.
Another hero, or rather heroine strode into the crowd. Luna was her name, dressed in skin tight, violet battle clothes that were striped with black on the chest, with silver plated pauldrons, gauntlets and steel boots, her hair was moon, crystal blue and reached elegantly down her back, her deep violet eyes surveyed her surroundings like a hawk would search for mice, fierce yet graceful, was she. Magina gazed at her in awe, trying his best not to peer down too low where people would consider lewd, she was almost the same height as he was, Luna was almost as elegant in every step as Mirana, and from what he had heard, they worshiped the same goddess, perhaps they were close. Almost immediately when she walked into the crowd, the others ceased their talking, and even Mangix hadn't took another swig. Lina blew her fiery hair aside, crossing her arms, she was obviously not in good terms with Luna.
"Eh-hem!" Kardel cleared his throat "May I have everyone's attention? Thanks.
"So to cut a long story short, I have returned from my scouting duties with dire news, literally Dire news. I've spotted a huge gathering of 'em Dire troops not far from the base and Ezalor has told me to pass this warning down to everyone, and also he would soon assemble a team of our warriors to immediately dispatch the troops before they cause trouble. The size of the troop, is particularly small, but we can't afford having enemy ranks in our lands. Whoever is going to be chosen by Ezalor, I warn you, there could be Dire warriors lurking in the shadows, dammit I've just had a scuffle with one of 'em." Kardel sucked and spat on the ground " That's all I have to say, but be wary." the dwarf then turned and walked away, without another word.
The heroes mumbled amongst themselves, the group broke up with warriors accompanied by another, Magina walked alongside Rexxar, as usual. Blitz's caw split the air high above, he still followed the Beast Master loyally, scouting for him high in the sky in case of danger. Curiosity clawed at Magina, if what Kardel said was true, could it be that the Dire are invading? A sudden cracking sound surprised Magina, and he looked down to see Rexxar's white, clenched fist. Rexxar's eyes were fiercely sharp, his breathing deepened and his thick chest puffed, like a bull that had just been intruded upon its own territory. Magina reached out and tapped the larger man on the shoulder, and Rexxar loosened his grip, letting his pressure loose, quickly recovering his composure.
"Don't fret, young friend," he said "It was just that I was feeling a little... well, disturbed by all this. With the Dire suddenly sneaking into our own woods, I felt very enraged by their audacity."
It was true that it was audacious, but Magina felt much more sorrow in Rexxar's words, "Is there something more between them and you, friend? Was there something that happened to you?"
Rexxar stopped in his tracks, and Magina followed. Rexxar paused for what seemed like an eternity, gathering the right words perhaps, he bit his lower lip, as if the thoughts pained him internally. "Well it began when I was just a young lad," Rexxar began "A juvenile, reckless and adventurous, sort of like you, in a way.
"I lived in the vast valley below the feet of the Aurora Peaks, alongside the many beasts that inhabited it. I was happy, racing with wolves, wrestling with bears, climbing cliffs alongside mountain goats, and the aurora lights, wow, that shine brightly in the night sky were spectacular, giant curtains of iridescence. Trees there were enormous and evergreen, and the water, pure as newborn, flowing from the mountains. I had a family, not human, but of a pack of mismatch creatures, there was a mother grizzly with her cubs, a lone wolf with a scar across his face, and there was Blitz, still a hatchling those days, without his flying muscles.
"We lived perfectly in harmony, waking up everyday to see the sunrise that covered the entire valley, then we would go fishing by the river, and go hunting for deer. Then one day, I told my pack I was out to climb the Peaks where no creature has ever ventured to, and the mother grizzly, being wise, warned me about those parts, saying it was a forbidden place, and the beasts never dared disturb there, for a curse laid there. I, being foolish and curious, lied to them and ventured off to the Peaks. I climbed the mountains to their steepest peaks and found what seemed to be a cavern of ice, with a mouth with icicles as teeth, and outside the winds howled like rabid wolves. I sought shelter in the cavern, venturing deeper to explore my surroundings. I ignored my conscience, my instinct that told me to flee the place and leap off the mountain, and went deeper, where I found an inner sanctum.
"There rested the frozen corpse of a dragon, a wyvern to be exact, bony and covered in aeons worth of frost. It was massive, as large as two houses, with gigantic wings that could flatten cottages, and the fangs of the horned skull, each were as long as a man's arm, and razor sharp. I stared into the dead beast's hollow eyes, and noticed an insignia on its forehead, it was shape like a demon's horned head and glowed ominously red, and back then I never realized that the insignia matched the Dire's perfectly. I touched the insignia, and with a flashing light, red lightning jolted me and knocked me into the wall. Then before I lost consciousnesses, the cave rumbled and shook, the roof came apart, and the silhouetted form of the wyvern rose from its frozen slumber, and I heard a roar that frightened the howling winds, the cavern roof collapsed as the beast took flight into the sky.
"I awoke much too late, amongst the rocks of the collapsed roof, I was fortunate to have lived. I scrambled outside the cavern, and it was too foggy to see what had became of the valley. I scrambled down the Peaks, and then when the fogged cleared, I felt myself die inside. The entire valley, what was once alive in spring, all became dead in winter. It was no ordinary winter, towering fangs of ice shattered the earth, trees had frozen, and when I came down, the beasts were all encased in ice.
"All was a frozen tundra, bare of life, and I only had myself left to blame..." Rexxar stopped, he sighed "And my pack was killed by the ice, save for Blitz."
Magina took it in, Rexxar had gone through a great ordeal. He patted the larger man on the shoulder, trying to reassure him yet Rexxar was still heavy hearted. "I know what it's like to lose your home and family," said Magina "You aren't the only one who has lost a part of himself." Rexxar smiled gently in return, "Thank you, young friend."
"So you hope that upon defeating the Dire, the forest would be restored?" asked Magina.
"Hopefully," answered Rexxar "I've heard that the wyvern that brought the dreaded winter flew in the direction of the Dire's base, so perhaps if we win this war, my home would be free from its curse."
It seemed that everyone had their own unique goals in the Radiant, and not just him and Rexxar. They walked further down a snaking dirt road beside a tree line leading to the feasting hall, where they would have their breakfast of the day. Rexxar pushed the heavy doors aside and the two made their way in, the others, save for the reclusive, had beaten them to the food. The Radiant served no meat in the mornings, which the tireless cooks deemed unhealthy to digest, instead there were the aroma-less, but juicy fruits and vegetables alongside pickled eggs, bread, cheese, milk in jugs and grains in bowls. There were seats with laid utensils, and the hall had the heads of game that the Radiant warriors had hunted, and the frost dragon, being the most prominent. Ezalor sat at the center chair, besides Mirana. Magina saw her, conversing with the elegant Luna, whilst munching on an crimson apple. The women sat by each other, and the famed Archer Sisters all sat in a group. Lyralei was there, chatting away with the cold- as- ice Drow Ranger. Traxxex was seclusive, silent wherever she was or whenever she was engaged. Her dark hood concealed her beautiful snow white hair, Magina thought, which was rumored to be silken. Magina quickly snapped himself out of his delusions, he only aimed for one woman, and she was Mirana, he prayed silently in his heart that he would be forgiven by whatever divine force is there.
Magina sat down, along with Rexxar, whose chair creaked a bit. Across the table sat Davion, eating a small apple, he raised his eyebrow when Magina looked, but continued on without saying anything. Magina looked around to find Rubick, the peculiar mage, but he was nowhere to be found, neither was the Juggernaut, perhaps he would never catch a glimpse of their unmasked faces eating. Magina remembered that the peculiar mage would soon be his traveling partner, and he should at least get to know him better, but the mage never showed himself except for the most unique of events, even Rexxar himself said he was a recluse. But for what reason should Magina get acquainted with a mage? Mages were all just people who hide their mundane abilities behind layers of spells and enchanted armor, and without them, they were just ordinary folk. Magina didn't even like Rubick's personality, pompous and laid back, what a combination! Bah! Mages were all the same.
The doors swung open and the sun rays broke in, behind a silhouetted figure. Magina squinted his eyes, the figure gained color and features, and it was giant. The man, or perhaps orc or troll or whatever he was, stood tall with bulging muscles on every limb. His blue body was armored by tribal bracers, pauldrons, a loin cloth and shin guards, he wore a helm of horned bone, and his face, fearsome, sharp teeth showed and blazing amber eyes, pupil-less and savage, a spear as long as a man hung on his back, it had a brittle, stone spear head, a curved blade protruded from his right bracer, crimson as blood and seemingly smeared by blood. Magina tapped on Rexxar's arm, and leaned in to whisper.
"Rexxar, who's the savage?" he whispered
"He is no savage," answered Rexxar, equally as quiet "He is Huskar, the Sacred Warrior, and one should be wise to respect him, for he has fought alongside us in the most savage of battles for years, and he has sacrificed much in the name of the Earth Mother. He is one of the most fiercest and determined warriors I've ever met."
Huskar sat down on his chair with a thump, almost breaking its legs. He snatched a few apples, grapes, bread and cheese in one fell- swoop, and it was the end for them as he gorged, hungrily chomping away, spittle flew and bits littered his plate. Satisfied, he slumped into his chair and let loose a gurgling burp, making Magina reeled back a little. With a long, brownish fingernail, he picked scraps between his teeth and licked his lips with a large, red tongue. He sighed, and a pungent smell filled the air quickly. Huskar surveyed the table with hungry eyes, searching for more treats to gorge, then his battle-worn gaze met Magina's, and the two froze for a deathly silent moment. Huskar shot out a long finger at Magina, making him flinch.
"You there," said Huskar, his deep voice rumbled like rocks grating against each other "You're the scrawny one that roused everyone during the morning's meeting, are you not?"
Magina was tense, but managed to nod his head in response. "Thank the gods!" Huskar shouted and banged a fist on the table "Someone with backbone in this timid army! Thanks to you, I can look forward to battle once more, instead of walking circles around towers all day! May the gods watch over you!" The Sacred Warrior grinned, with crumbs between his teeth and on his chin.
"Thank you... Sacred Warrior," replied Magina "I look forward to battling alongside someone of your...um... legendary strength and... ferocity."
Huskar burst out in laughter, his earthquake of a laugh could be heard across the whole table, making the women cringe and Ezalor cough while drinking a cup of water. Huskar wiped a tear from his eye as his laughter settled, and with a last giggle he stopped.
"You are a good person, Anti-Mage, and I respect someone with such witty speech," said Huskar "Tell me, what do you fight for, in this war? Glory, gold, honour, women?"
"Vengeance, my friend," Magina replied, "For my fallen brethren."
Huskar withdrew himself, his grin sank away, for a moment, Magina could sense displeasure in his amber eyes. "A very... righteous cause, my friend." said Huskar "I understand if you wish to pursue some unknown murderers to oblivion if needed, but take care, for vengeance is like a poison, that does not stop until it has destroyed your body down to the last drop of blood. Believe me, some of our past comrades, had fallen in their quest for vengeance."
"Thank you for the warning, however I assure you, I am quite the escape artist."
"It is not the enemy you should be worried about, but rather, your own darkness." he said, and Huskar pounced on a stray loaf of bread and tore into it, ripping it apart in a frenzy of drool and teeth. Magina leaned back a little into his seat, afraid that a strand of drool might fly astray. He and Rexxar watched on as Huskar gathered more food in a messy pile, munching on every last bit until there was none. Then the Sacred Warrior slunk back, satisfied with the meal, and patted his muscular abdominals. "A bit of advice, Magina," said Huskar "When the time comes, a sacrifice may be in need, and what you may need to sacrifice might cost you heavily. I have sacrificed much for this war, and it was never the physical scars that healed away that pained the most, it was always the pain of losing a comrade or friend that scarred me more." Huskar snatched a tankard of creamy milk and swigged it down, gulping it all in a flash, Magina was amazed by the warrior's appetite, and pictured him wolfing down an entire pantry of food in a messy flash. Huskar's amber eyes turned to Rexxar as he dropped the empty tankard, milk dripped from his broad chin.
"Take care of this feisty one, Beast Master," said Huskar, he even snickered a little, then turned his gaze to Magina, and for a moment, locked Magina in it "His tongue might be the end of him."
A resounding clap of hands turned their stares away from one another, across the table, Ezalor had stood from his seat, with his wrinkly hands clasped. Ezalor commanded respect easily from his allies, immediately turning all their attentions to him. Relieved that he had everyone listening, he began. "My friends, I believe you've all been informed by Kardel earlier about what is to come soon," announced Ezalor "On this moment, a team shall be assembled immediately to tackle a spotted Dire scout party scouted within our borders. I shall pick a team of three to lead a force of our own to track down the invaders and destroy them before they can do any harm, now after some discussion with my co-general Mirana and strategist Lanaya...
"Magina, Huskar and Rylai shall lead the troops in battle."
Time stopped for Magina, the mention of his name and the word "battle" was a combination he hadn't heard ever since he was recruited. A true battle, at last awaited Magina. He could prove himself then to Lanaya and the others of his competence as a fighter, prove himself as no weak rookie, but rather the Anti-Mage, the bane of all mages and demons. He was eager, and his heart leaped with excitement, for a battle was what he desired for some time, a true test of his skills against the so-called powerful Dire. Ezalor motioned the chosen warriors to stand from their seats, Magina rose first, followed by Huskar and Rylai. When they stood, Magina sized up Huskar with himself. Huskar was no taller than Rexxar, dwarfing Magina by a foot tall, his chest was squared and his corded shoulders stretched with visible sinews of muscles, his arms popped with veins, making him appear monstrously strong, as if even a single flick of his finger could send Magina flying yards away.
Rylai however, was petite and beautiful. Her golden locks peeked out of her withdrawing hood, her pink lips smiled, her visage expressed a calm and modest composure, as if she was not at all worried by the prospect of blood and death that was to come. A maiden by appearance, but warrior at heart. Magina recalled a few accounts he had heard from others, about the Crystal Maiden freezing unwanted suitors and enemies alike in frostbite and that she was equivalent to a blizzard raging over a tundra when she entered battle. Her Blueheart Glacier scepter, an arcane staff tipped with an edged, azure gemstone and frost sheeted the scepter down to its golden body.
"Rylai," said Ezalor "I trust that you would be fit to support your allies, today?"
"As unchanging as permafrost," replied Rylai "Always, sir."
Ezalor nodded to her and called the trio upstairs to his office, where Magina and Rylai sat on velvet chairs whereas Huskar stood and listened, Ezalor explained the team's strategy. On his desk, he spread out a map of their base's area, he marked each of the enemies possible locations, and where would've been the best places for a well-planned ambush.
"Across the stream was where Kardel reported the presence of a Dire hero," said Ezalor "Beyond there, is where Kardel spotted the troops and warded, on the lookout hill.
"If we aren't mistaken, the troops should have passed the stream by now, if that's the case, you three must cut them off at the scouters' pathway, the road leading to one of our structures. If they aren't, then it is possible that they've stopped by the lookout hill, which is in the forest. If that's the case, proceed with extra caution, there's no telling what monstrosities the Dire have sent to engage you. Are we clear?
"Yes, sir." they replied in unison.
"Good. Now the matter is the equipment you'll be using for this mission; you shall find a courier waiting for you by the mouth of the base, it'll give you what you need. Magina, you'll find the armor Boush had promised you with the courier, too; I had him sent it. Huskar, I trust that you will cover Rylai from the front while she covers your back. Magina, since you're the most evasive of them, you will initiate by leading the enemy away. understood?"
Magina nodded, though he knew he felt somewhat placed in an uncomfortable position. Nevertheless, he was sure he had nothing to fear, for no clumsy Dire warrior could ever dream of catching him. Besides, he had the Sacred Warrior and a living, and very attractive, blizzard on his side. What more could he need?
"Now then," said Ezalor "If everything is crystal clear, you must be set out immediately, and be wary, my comrades, for when it comes to the Dire, you may never see what's coming, before it's too late."
The sparrows chirruped in the tree tops, bushy brown squirrels chased one another from branch to branch; the forest was always so strangely serene, Magina noticed, almost too serene. Of course such ambiance was the perfect set up for ambushes, making the forest which he and his comrades were in a deathtrap from all sides. A blade could stab out of the bushes, a snare could spring from the grass, and the obscuring trees were a haven for would-be assassins. It was as if the forest that they themselves had allied with was turning against them in the favor of the enemy, and because of that, Magina's skin would crawl even at the snap of a twig.
His new armor somehow assured him, though. It was a purple battle vest, made of a malleable metal that was so flexible, it was more or less like clothing. It was sleeveless and its shoulders spiked out, the chest was a light-weight plate, chain-mail covered Magina's shoulders. Boush promised him it would shield him from a claymore to the chest, at least that made him feel a lot safer. Huskar on the contrary, chose to go bare-chested, without any further protection other than his thick muscles. What a man he was! Or orc... or troll, whatever. Rylai wore her signature cape and hood, light weight and seemingly fragile, but what more protection could a ice mage need when she has the elements to fend herself.
Trailing behind them was their squad of Radiant soldiers, or creeps for that matter. "Creeps" was a more impolite term to refer the brave, or rather near mindless soldiers of the Radiant, earned during a time when heroes treated them like cannon fodder and nothing else, but thanks to the Earth Mother's blessings, they've gain more sentience since then. A bird chirped above and fluttered away; Magina tightened his grip on his new blades, steeling his nerves. A twig snapped somewhere, and everyone turned their attention around them.
The tension was unbearable.
"I'll scout ahead," announced Magina, then Huskar grabbed his shoulder, stopping him.
"As much as I like to see some action," said Huskar "Let's not get reckless."
"Come now, Sacred Warrior, I thought you were a man of action? Or orc or...troll..."
"I was, as a matter of fact, and I've lost a good deal of allies because of that."
"Don't fret," assured Magina, and he took Huskar's hand off "I'm more elusive than a water sprite in the sea." and off he blinked to who knows where.
"Should we go after him?" asked Rylai. Huskar shook his head.
"He'd be too far ahead, that fool," said Huskar "Let's just hope he'll be fine."
Magina brushed aside the leaves of a bush as he took a peek, his intuition was right indeed. There they were, crowded all together like bees on honey, the Dire creeps. They were hideous, scorched walking corpses, like the damned on earth. Each were hissing and growling like animals, their skin was horribly burnt and stretched like leather. Their eyes were empty, blazing white balls of fire and their crooked human teeth still remained. They were armed with black broadswords and shields, breastplates and helms, each differing in design. Disgusting creatures. Magina resisted the urge to blink in and cleave them all asunder, he knew he had to report back. He got up and dusted his pants, ready to go.
Snap.
Went a twig, Magina's instincts flared. Yet he saw nothing, heard nothing more as well. Then he smelled something, a tinge of rotting flesh filled the air. Magina brushed his nose and thought perhaps the creeps were what caused the smell, then it made his eyes teary and he lightly coughed. All of a sudden, he heard the subtle rattle of chains, long chains.
Magina turned his head to face an incoming bloody, chained meat hook, flying straight to his eyes...
Author's note: Whew! Finally done with this! My apologies for taking too long, but it was worth it. I had to consider a few things and it took quite awhile (plus the burden from my schoolwork and DotA career) but eventually here it is! Recently I've had a thousand over views and some followers and favs, and I thank you all for your support! I would look on to some of the reviews and lol at some of them, considering they made sense. Anyways Dota 2 has recently introduced Phoenix and Terrorblade, which... kinda disappointed me design likewise, cos i was planning on having Terror in my story. Dota 2 so far has been an amazing (and f***ing frustrating) game and I hope there will be more endorsement on the franchise. I like to thank you followers for your support and encouragement and I hope to have more kind people supporting me for the next chapter. I can't really say when the next chapter can be released, but I'll try my best to release it sooner. Thank you readers, and have a good game.
