Game 3Game 3 Outline| Game 3 |
Game 3 Outline |
A series of roars catch your attention as mist begins to rise, and you hear the pounding of hooves. Crud, you think, remembering a few of the larger creatures in the court. You try to center on where the closest noise came from, however, the rising mist make it difficult to actually see. Only when a figure is almost upon you do you see it, as a massive pair of horns comes hurling out of the grey, a bull-like body attached to it. You turn and throw up your paws just in time to literally catch the Minotaur by the horns, the force pushing you through the soft dirt. Your hearing catches a second coming from the side, but your still dealing with the first, who is wrestling its horns, trying to either impale you of catch you with its fists.
Acting quickly, you push the horns down, while pushing yourself upwards, the first minotaur tumbling beneath you as you jump over it, the second, unable to stop, tumbles over the first, skidding over the ground as it's inertia carries it. You can't focus on that though, come down almost right in front of three more, ready and waiting, armed with spiked maces. You already know that piercing weapons will be able to penetrate your armor like fur, instead letting your momentum carry you into a lunge, taking the middle one off its feet as your roar, slicing the tendons of its arm, before you leap off out of the range of the other two. The Minotaur you wounded drops his club, clutching that the bleeding wound. By now the two you encountered before have gotten up and joined the others, bringing the count 5 to one.
You back off slightly, feeling your back leg hit a fallen tree trunk. You glance at it, and get an idea. As the band of Minotaur charge, you turn and grab the tree trunk, and pull at it with all your bestial strength, tearing it from the dirt and swinging it like a bat. There is a echoing crack as it impacts the group, the wood shattering in your hands. You lose your grip and the trunk drops and spins, rolling off the pile of fallen bull-men, who if non-unconscious, will defiantly not be bothering you any time soon.
Written by Dream Weaver
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