Figure Anti-Mage

Dota 2 Hero Figurine — your favorite hero in real life!

The pictures you see are images of already made figurines, but we can make another figurine of the same hero for you

Are you a Dota 2 fan? Now you can hold in your hands not just a hero — but a unique figurine, crafted to match your taste, style, and imagination!

Why you’ll want this figurine:

• Height from 15 cm and up — choose the perfect size for your collection
• Photopolymer resin — sharp details, smooth lines, premium quality
• Any hero style — arcanas, sets, skins, colors — we’ll create exactly what you envision
• Multilayer hand painting — each figurine is painted by hand with maximum precision and attention to detail
• Gift packaging — a ready-made solution for an awesome gift
• Your nickname on the figurine — we’ll immortalize your gaming legacy

Want a unique Juggernaut with an arcana and a golden set? Or a badass custom Pudge in cyberpunk style? — Anything is possible. Only your imagination sets the limit.

The price is calculated individually depending on complexity, availability of the model, and size. Currently, the price starts from 180 160 $.

Treat yourself or surprise a gamer friend.

Order your own custom Dota figurine today — and claim a true trophy from your favorite universe!

Order 2 or more figurines and get a free gift!

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About Hero

Should Anti-Mage have the opportunity to gather his full strength, few can stop his assaults. Draining mana from enemies with every strike or teleporting short distances to escape an ambush, cornering him is a challenge for any foe.

The monks of Turstarkuri watched the rugged valleys below their mountain monastery as wave after wave of invaders swept through the lower kingdoms. Ascetic and pragmatic, in their remote monastic eyrie they remained aloof from mundane strife, wrapped in meditation that knew no gods or elements of magic. Then came the Legion of the Dead God, crusaders with a sinister mandate to replace all local worship with their Unliving Lord's poisonous nihilosophy. From a landscape that had known nothing but blood and battle for a thousand years, they tore the souls and bones of countless fallen legions and pitched them against Turstarkuri. The monastery stood scarcely a fortnight against the assault, and the few monks who bothered to surface from their meditations believed the invaders were but demonic visions sent to distract them from meditation. They died where they sat on their silken cushions. Only one youth survived--a pilgrim who had come as an acolyte, seeking wisdom, but had yet to be admitted to the monastery. He watched in horror as the monks to whom he had served tea and nettles were first slaughtered, then raised to join the ranks of the Dead God's priesthood. With nothing but a few of Turstarkuri's prized dogmatic scrolls, he crept away to the comparative safety of other lands, swearing to obliterate not only the Dead God's magic users--but to put an end to magic altogether.