dick cleave, a dota 2 short story

	"Roshan has fallen to the Dire!"
	An ephemeral voice boomed throughout the fields of the ancients, bellowing the the grim news. Roshan, the ageless beast whose very visage grows more twisted and deadly with each passing era, once again tasted death. Somewhere, there were a group of scoundrels and thieves, gorging upon his life-preserving blood to find their way to his undying heart.
	"Immortality!"
	It had happened. Someone now held that still-beating relic of never ending life, and they would be using it to assault the Tree of Life and bring about an age of darkness and decay. The voice belonging to the new immortal was deep and echoed unnaturally. It was as if it belonged to several identical people.
	The Rogue Knight, Sven, gripped his sword tightly and looked at the Tree of Life, Yggdrasil, beating in harmony with the pulse of the world. It provided the lifeblood of all living things not touched by the dire corruption, just as his own heart kept him alive. If it was destroyed, the earth would no longer be able to breathe the wind across its peaks and valleys, rivers and lakes would dry as the waters blackened, and no land would be capable of providing life to plants and animals.
	Sven was pacing back and forth between the towers protecting the tree's grounds. His thoughts drowned out Lyralei's calls for action. Yumero's piercing stare could not phase him. The forces of the Radiant were waiting for Sven to decide what should be done, but there was no time for him to decide. Just beyond the fields leading to the tree's stronghold, the thunderous beat of marching steps could be heard, and the troops of the Dire were spreading corruption with every step. A disturbing fish that walked on two legs and whose blade was covered in its own blood, an undead abomination whose body was frozen and stiff, a dark wizard who held a cursed book of black words, an enormous spider who seemed to fade from sight into its web, all lead by a being pulsing with power. Sven witnessed him, and there could be no mistake. He was the new immortal.
	He was a creature encased in red armor, holding a burning blade, riding what could only be one of the four horses of the apocalypse. Though humanoid in shape, the holes in his armor revealed twisting and spiraling chaotic energy. This was not a man, this was a demon. This was something that threatened all life, man and mer alike. He lowered his head, feeling corrupted simply by gazing upon the twisted monstrosity, and fell deep into thought.

	Upon a tall mountain there was an order of knights. They followed a code of honor, each member of the order were family, and wore ceremonial masks, as their former identity and humanly shape were of no importance here. The greatest among them would lead them into battle when the great war of the ancients rocked the earth, adorned with a sacred mask and blade.
	There was among them who might have taken this role. However, it had been learned that he had left the order and found an unnatural mate, a wild woman who dwelled in a lake. His brothers saw this as a treasonous act, of being disloyal to the people he was meant to protect, and removed his head from his shoulders.
	The woman was with child, and due to the nature of their union, he was unable to dwell with her beneath the water. He was given to a nearby village, who, perhaps in an iron twist of fate, gave him to the very order that had slain his father. He would not know of this until many years later, when he was to become the grand master of these knights...

	Sven felt something heavy tap his shoulder. Rousing himself from his thoughts, he turned to see a man in a strange hood poking him with a gem-studded scepter.
	"There is no time for magic tricks, crazed old wizard." Sven stared at the horizon, watching the horde approach.
	"You misunderstand, Rogue Knight." The wizard garbed in green spun the scepter between his fingers. "This is no ordinary magic. This is my father's legacy. An artifact that brings out the greatest potential in its owner. It may be the only chance we have." He pressed the scepter into Sven's arms, urging him. "Take it."
	As Sven gripped the scepter, he felt something awaken in him. A power that had always been there, but was merely dormant. It rose from deep within the greatest bowels of him, and he knew what must be done. His sword, so heavy that, to anyone but Sven, would require two men to lift, he now held easily in one hand and could swing it to and fro as if it were a twig. He was ready.
	"They are here!" Lyralei, perched like a bird upon a protective tower, cried out. She fired an arrow with a rope attached and bound the rope to the tower. The arrow struck deep into the fish man's body, and he was bound. Yumero, hiding behind a tree, leapt upon him and, in a rapid flash of movement, struck him with immeasurable speed with his eastern steel, which was said to be folded nearly a thousand times. But this demonic fish dissipated into shadow and floated away, and beneath Yumero a terrifying fiery glyph of evil incantations manifested itself. There was an explosion of hellfire, and Yumero was set upon by abominations of the burning hells. They held him in a grip he could not escape and burned him with their flaming bodies, but Yumero made no sound.
	Sven was kneeling before the tree, his sword held before him, the scepter gleaming with power in his hand. Beneath his breath, he prayed. All around him were shouts, the clashing of steel and stone, the sound of weapons sinking into flesh. He concentrated, and asked for strength. As he did, his armor, his body, began to change color. His entire body, save for his sacred mask, turned red, a symbol of great strength, and as it did, the scepter seemed to burn with energy. Before he knew it, his sword was moving of its own accord, and he felt a searing pain as it attached itself to his body. It was now firmly lodged to his nethers-- no, the sword had BECOME the great weapon of his body, replacing his previous great spear.
	Sven leapt into battle, his every step rocking the ground beneath him. Swinging his hips in a wide motion, he cleaved through the forces of the dire attacking the tree's defenses, their stone and metal bodies like butter to his engorged swordhood. The red creature of chaotic energy stepped before him, and a bolt of strife flew from his weapon into Sven's body. He became dizzy, could not see what was around him, could only feel a thousand blades stabbing him all around. There seemed to be many chaotic knights, trapping him in a circle of anarchy and death. He concentrated, and swung in a great circle all around him-- and the many knights dissipated, cut betwixt by his piercing strength. The chaotic creature staggered, but did not relent. Back and forth, his burning blade and Sven's huge tool clashed and their battle sang a song of clanging metal and practiced steps. With each thrust, Sven's hips swung wildly back and forth to better control his weapon.
	"Enough of this! Taste death, rouge knight!" The creature's horse leapt high into the air, and he trained his sword to his red target as he fell flaming through the air back down.
	"You... You! Damn it!" Sven's muscles pulsed with anger, his veins popping so large out of his head you could nearly see them through his mask. He squatted, concentrating all his remaining energy into his legs, and leapt with all his might into the air. His crotch jutted straight upward, his sword standing tall in the heavy air of the battle. He screamed, "It's ROOOOOOGUE KNIIIIIGHT!" and his great tool sunk deep through the creature's horse, into his body. His leap was so powerful the collision did not step his ascent, and he began to fly through the air toward the Dire's encampment around the portal leading to the burning hells. With great speed they fell upon it, utterly destroying it.
	The chaotic knight gagged and moaned in pain upon Sven's steel shaft as he pulled him off of it and threw him into the rubble. The portal was collapsing upon itself and the creature was falling into the hole below, the twisted molten lava of the dire corruption utterly consuming him.
	Traxex, who had been watching from the shadows, revealed herself to Sven and joined him in watching the creature twist in agony.
	"He will never die until the heart is reclaimed," Sven groaned, cleaning the black blood off of his blade. "He will lay in that pit, suffering a fate worse than death." Traxex rose an eyebrow at him. "But not worse than being called a rouge kni--" she was cut off as Sven covered her mouth his one of his large hands. "Do not finish that sentence."