|Game 3||Game 3 Outline|
"Hey, wot you think your doin?" comes a beefy voice form behind as you finish buckling your belt. You turn to see a rather large Ogre with one eye, the remaining one bloodshot and irratable. It takes a look at you momentarily loses it's train of thought, as you are not an Ogre, nor a Troll, but apparently it was in the custom of handling 'recruits' and quickly recovers itself, "You think you all big and bad, you get in ring now, or I gets to grind some bones." You glance at the weapon rack, but decide to forgo them, they are too small for you to grip properly, and how they'd hold up against your strength, you didn't want to find out in the middle of a fight. Still, you pad towards one of the fighting rings, the Ogre prodding you in the backside occationally to hurry you along. You give him a warning growl before you find youself in the ring, surrounded by Ogres and Trolls, too occupied in keeping themselves alive to notice your arrival at first. That is until one manages to knock out his opponent. A Troll with a set of war axes stands over the body of his opponent, then looks your way. From the look in his eye you can see he's in a blood rage, for you can think of no other reason anyone would charge head on screaming at a monster twice the size of him.
You kinda wish you had gotten a weapon now, as you realize that a club was one thing, but a axe had a cutting edge, and may well do serious damage to you. As thr Troll swings at you you step back, dodging the first low, quickly moving to avoid the next, in the small opening that follows, you swing your fist hard, connecting with the trolls chest, who is suddenly gone as he flies back across the ring, colliding with a group of fighters on the other side. As the group figures out what hit them, eyes turn in your dirrection, each one filled with blood rage. With that you find yourself being charged by several fighters, each armed with gleaming weapons. 'Crud' you try to growl, but only manage a strange bark.
You do your best to dodge the weapons as they swing at you, knocking back who you can, but you are to large a target and to outnumbered. You see a blow coming that you cant dodge, and throw up your arm reflexively to block it. There is a slight tink, as you feel the edge of the sword blade. You expect to feel you flesh slicing, but as the sword is pulled across your arm, you feel a resistance like wire across your skin, and see the sword glide off, your arm still whole. In your shock an axe hits your side, but besided the actual force of the blow, the axe fails to penetrate your hide, your fur acting as a armor. Namian Lion perhaps? you think to yourself, trying to think of legends with a similar phenomena. Whatever, your not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. You swing your arm in an arch, catching as many opponents as you can and draging them off their feet as you hurl them away from you. "YEAH, THIS IS MORE LIKE IT!" you bellow, though it come out as a huge resounding roar that resounds through the arena. Quickly you begin swinging your fists about, ignoring the weapons for the most part and wading into your oppoents, flinging them about the ring like rag dolls. However, this commotion only manages to pull the attention of the arena to you, and soon you find yourself surrounded by what's left of the ring, all focused on trying to bring you down...
Written by Dream Weaver
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