The searing arrows burned cleaned through his body. Cauterizing the wound immediately leaving little to bleed or even a chance for infection. All this would have mattered if not for the fact that the arrows took out his heart with them.
As his crumpled body fell at the still raging battlefield, his spirit rose into the heavens...
The desert warrior wakes up in a daze, feeling strangely out of place. As he gathered his senses he found himself in a somehow much duller world, the colours more subdued, grayer. He was resting on a gigantic desk of a very puzzled human wearing strange clothes staring at him as if in disbelief.
"Hey, aren't you Sandking? What are you doing out here? You are supposed to be inside DOTA!!!" The strange human said.
"Are you my maker? My God? I thought you don't exist!" Sandking asked in disbelief.
"Funny, I could say the same..." The man mumbled.
"But, but, what about the ruins, the fossils! The proof that evolution exists! All the evidence that the world is older that 80,000 years old!" SandKing screamed in outrage.
"Oh, that! Those were just doodads." The man nonchalently.
"Doo-what?" Sandking said.
"Doodads, painted backdrops to make the background more interesting." came the reply.
"And oh yeah, the world? Warcraft III is pretty old for game, but its more like 3 years rather than 80,000. We just added all that for the backstory to give the game more depth."
Sandking stared at his maker in awkward silence for moment and reached a decision.
His tail whipped suddenly and he screamed in typical anime fashion, "Burrowstrike!" followed by a "Epicenter!".
"AHHHHH!!!!!!"
****
The moral of this story? Game programmers usually have very little hp and do very badly against agi, str and int heroes. And creeps as well. Maybe even the little sheep you turn into whenever you meet Lion...
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