Quote from acutelatiosHe's already banned forever. He won't be coming back.
Since this happened, I win by forfeit, I guess. That's quite unfortunate, because Shadowolf finished his part and I wanted a real battle, but on the other hand he deserves the ban.
Anyway, here's my battle:
https://www.dropbox.com/s/o299moszo4ihddd/The%20Moloch%20and%20the%20Wolf.docx?dl=0
If the link does not work:
[Spoiler=My Battle] The Moloch and the Wolf
Maxar took a deep breath, as he ran along the road. He enjoyed leaving the city. Being at a place full of noise and fetidness had soon become unbearable for his wolfish senses. He wondered how the humans could stand it. Of course he left his metal shop alone, but it had to be fine. Barely anyone visited it anyway. Instead of just sitting around, Maxar, being hired as a mercenary, now had a mission. Due to the fresh air and finally having something to do, he actually felt quite relieved.
The mission’s objective was to investigate a massacre, which took place in an old monastery. Six people, mostly tourists, died and one man remained dangerously injured from being thrown into a wall. The shocked survivors described the attacker as a pale giant with red eyes and metal gloves. From what Shado heard, it had just been a normal guided tour through the monastery, when suddenly the attacker shattered a wall besides the group and attacked them. A brother had shown Maxar the corridor, the killing happened. The victim’s dead bodies had been still laying around. Most of them looked like something blunt hit them, but one man had a hole burned through his stomach. “What am I facing here? A giant pyromancer?”
Maxar had also found two interesting things at the monastery. One of the dead tourists had been holding a camera and the last photo showed the attacker. He was not as big, as the survivors described, but he was taller, than every human, Maxar had ever seen. Due to the dust of the shattered wall, the photo didn’t give detailed information, but one thing was definitely remarkable. Behind the dust, there were two red lights, shining through. And they had the form of eyes, angry eyes. They looked quite scary. “This creature might be pretty dangerous. I will have to hunt it down but I need to be careful.”
The other thing he found, had actually been behind the wall. Between the other stones there had been a broken stone with runes carved into it. Unfortunately the runes seemed to not be Celtic, but Nordic, which is why Maxar hadn’t been able to read them. He had found, though, that they might be important, so he called Adam, his RHG agent. He had to find out, what these runes meant.
Right now Maxar was following the tracks of the attacker through a field. His target did not seem to bother about covering his tracks. “Am I chasing a Bigfoot,” thought Maxar as he ran on the tracks, which looked like unusually large, bare human feet. His mobile rang. Maxar didn’t want to have one at first, but he recognized, how useful it can be. It was Adam. “Hello again, Adam. Hoo’s it gaun?” Adam ignored the question. “I had an expert figuring the runes out. The runes on the photo you send me are indeed Nordic.” That was, what Maxar liked about Adam. He appeared to be kind of unfriendly sometimes, but he never meant to, while he was an overall calm reliable person. “We’re pretty similar.” Maybe that was why they were getting along so well.
“The first one means withstand. The second one says, catch or detain and the third one says prohibit. I have no idea, what it should prohibit, though. Do you know it?” Maxar had no idea. “Naw, ma frein, keep going.” “Okay. The last few runes mean something like disable growth. Maybe the point of these is to prevent the captive from getting stronger.” “Seems plausible,” Maxar responded. “Not really helping me. It might just mean, that I have to be fast." “Thank ye a lot.” “No problem,” Adam hummed,” just save the people. Good luck with the hunt.” “Guidbye,” Maxar ended the call. Adam was right. It was not the time for Smalltalk, which Maxar didn’t like anyway. His target was getting stronger over time. It killed people. And, making it even worse its path lead to a small town.
Free. Rage was finally free. He had been in the cave for over a thousand years, unbelievable. The sudden freedom was also hard to realize. All these possibilities. Rage felt on top of the world. Never had he felt that good, not even while torturing Leif. It was a warm evening, typical for the early summer. Rage’s elation was hard to control. He almost had to remind himself, that a destiny lies before him, but he would never forget that. Beneath the temporary joy he still felt the pounding of the anger, rooted deep in himself. And after Rage broke free, this anger also wanted to be unleashed, unleashed onto humans.
“Let’s celebrate this, shall we?” Rage smirked. Now he only had to find some victims. It wouldn’t take long, because he just entered a town. The streets were surprisingly empty. He just passed a young couple walking in front of him, laughing and holding hands. They didn’t laugh much longer. But apart from them, no one was there and no one took notice of him. “Where are the people,” asked Rage to himself, before he suddenly heard chatting and laughing from his right. He went through a gap between two houses, just to find himself facing a huge backyard, about 20 meters wide and 30 meters long. It was full of humans standing at tables, talking and drinking the beer, they bought at the little bar in the backyard’s right side. At the End of the backyard, behind several rows of benches, there was a little stage. A colourful poster hung at its background. It said “Town Fair”. Rage felt a big smile spreading over his face. “Today is really my lucky day.” About two hundred pairs of surprised eyes turned towards Rage, as he closed the gate. There was no other way out. Many jaw’s dropped, as the people mustered Rage and saw the huge body and the martial gauntlets with the coagulated blood on them. The mad sadistic smile and the eyes, glowing in the colour of fresh blood made the nearest ones already take a step back. “Who or what are you,” asked one man, giving Rage a disturbed look. Rage baled his armoured fists “I am the special guest.”
Maxar hurried. It was harder to keep the track inside a town, but his wolfish smelling sense wasn’t easily tricked. “Come on,” he thought “I need to be faster.” He ran around a corner and saw the first victims. A young couple, as it seemed. The guy looked like he was just peacefully laying at the ground, watching the sky, until Maxar realized, the body would lay face-down, if it weren’t for the neck being brutally twisted around. Maxar glanced at the blood splattered asphalt. The blood came from the girl’s pounded head and it was relatively fresh. It gave him chills. Time to stop this murderer. He checked his surroundings, while running, sensing lots of people nearby. They seemed to be in fear. And between them there was a strong unknown being. Maxar’s head buzzed from its strength and aggression. “What am I dealing with, here?” His sixth sense recognized fewer people around his target. The reason was obvious. “Ow, shite,” it just broke out of him. He had to be faster. He had to stop it. A huge wooden Gate cut his way, leading through the wide gap between two houses. “Do I open it or just climb over it,” Maxar asked himself, when it suddenly opened and panicking people ran towards him. He had to press himself against a wall, so they didn’t overrun him. He fought his way forward until he passed the gate.
Once it was a town fair, but now it turned into a bloodbath and the pale mad brute loomed in the middle of it. In his fists, covered by thick gauntlets he held a little girl. Her loud scream barely drowned the snatch as she got ripped in two. Carelessly the giant threw the bloody halves behind his back, to pick up her crying brother.
“Stop right there,” Maxar yelled. The murderer's head turned towards him. A surprised grunt was the only answer. Shado materialized his buckler with the two guns beneath it. The barrels aimed onto his opponent “Stop it or I’ll make you.” The killer looked amused. He began to gently pet the boy’s neck. Then he spoke with a deep gravelly voice: “And who are you to talk to me like this, little dog?” Dog? No one called Shado a dog. “They call me Shadowolf. I am probably the deadliest RHG combatant right now.” He didn’t like talking to this evil creature and he certainly didn’t like to brag, but daunting his opponent was worth a try. In the best case it might even save the boy, his age being about seven years, who was struggling to come free, but of course he had no chance. “And what does RHG stand for? Rightfully hopeless garbage?” taunted the giant, not impressed at all. “No,” answered Maxar. He had to stay calm. “It means “Rock Hard Gladiators”. It’s kind of a fighter’s league for people or beings with superior fighting skill or special abilities. Now let this boy go or I will shoot you.” A swift thought and his guns were filled up with bullets. He was ready to fight.
“Will you,” asked his opponent, as he suddenly threw the boy towards Maxar. The body of the braying boy hurled through the air. Could he catch him? No. The boy was not the only thing speeding into his direction. The opponent followed him, charging towards Shado, pounding the ground with his weight.
Letting the boy fall to the ground, Shado took a step to the left to not hit the falling boy, and fired a burst out of his machine gun, which hit the right side of the giant, who got slower, but did not stop. Did he even care for the bullets? Maxar didn’t know, as he dodged the charge. He focussed on the opponent’s metallic gauntlets, but he couldn’t control them. They were made of steel, refusing to be melted, because it was protectively enchanted. Too bad, and making it even worse, Shado wasted an opportunity to shoot the giant, who just turned around and started to close the distance between them.
Maxar materialized a spear made of tungsten in his right hand. He passed on including the dangerous plutonium, because there were too many people around.At least the spear granted him a range advantage in the inevitable close combat. He lifted his buckler, blocking his opponent’s first swinging blow. It hit hard enough, to leave Shado’s arm shaking.
The sharp spearhead rushed towards Rage’s stomach, but his left steel-covered forearm was there in time to swipe it out of its path. Rage stepped forward. The cheeky wolf dived under his next right-handed swinging blow, just to get back up again. This time the spear stabbed into Rage’s chest. However, this did not save his opponent from his left handed uppercut, which, barely blocked by the buckler threw him backwards. The spear left Rage’s flesh leaving a nasty burning pang. It aroused a wave of anger in Rage. “I am the one bathing in their blood. I am the one dealing pain here.”
Rage dashed towards his opponent, but again Shadowolf was not there. A blink later he felt the spear digging into his left side. “Not again.” By turning around he snatched the sticking spear from the hands of the surprised wolf. “What now, fur ball,” shouted Rage, when the fresh wound suddenly felt like it was in flames, overwhelming Rage with pain. “Aarhh!” He looked down. The spear was melting inside Rage, but it was not the spear, he had to worry about. It was not the spear, which had to die.
Shadowolf pointed the gun towards Rage, who attacked again. Rage’s opponent avoided the straight punch, by jumping back, but at least he did not get an opportunity to fire. The wolf tried to widen the gap between them. He would have been too fast, but Rage had a trick. He pumped his anger into his leg and stomped on the ground, hard enough to cause it to shake. Shadowolf almost tripped. Rage found the waving tail exceptionally funny. “Dance for me, little dog!” His opponent tried to shoot once more, but Rage pushed the small buckler away from him, eventually grabbing the wolf’s left arm. Another slim spear surprisingly appeared in his right hand, though. “How many of those does he have,” thought Rage. The stab came quick, but as expected. It hit him in the stomach, but Rage didn’t care. He only wanted one thing, the opponent’s furry spear-arm, which he now also held in his fist. “Got you,” shouted Rage, while Shadowolf’s dangerous fangs snapped shut too far away to hurt Rage. “Now I can do whatever I want.” The moloch began charging forward, barging his opponent into the massive wall about three meters behind him. Shadowolf crashed into the wall, before Rage crashed into him with his full deadly weight, bruising his opponent, while pressing his arms against the wall. Something scrunched and Rage let out a celebrating roar. “Time for payback.” Rage’s knee brutally kissed the wolf’s stomach.
“How heavy am I injured,” Shado wondered. Fortunately he managed to coat at least his head in steal, before he hit the wall, but the heavy body hit his chest like a train, breaking multiple ribs. However, the scrunch came from the guns under his buckler. They had to be repaired or swapped, but Shado had greater worries anyway. Like his opponent’s knee. It dug deep into Shado’s stomach. After that he instantly coated his belly and crotch, but the kick still left him vomiting. The foul puke mostly hit the giant, but Shado did not expect that to have any effect. The old rags were sprinkled with blood anyway and it has also been a wonder, that the brute’s sour stench did not kill Maxar’s nose yet. The next nasty kick hit Maxar. He was protected, but it still hurt him. “What if he tries something else?” He had to get out of this quickly.
Shado was locked down onto this wall. The only weapon he could use were his metal powers. A whole lot of little sharp pointed iron spikes materialized, behind the giant, who, once again, kicked Maxar into the stomach, angrily roaring, as if he wonders, why the attack didn’t work. “Now, before he attacks again.” Hundreds of spikes bolted into the murderers flesh. The pressure on his left arm decreased and that was all Shado needed. Pulling his left hand free, he instantly dematerialized his buckler, replacing it with tungsten claws instead. They left four red lines on the giant’s left forearm. Now his other arm was free. He felt the familiar steel growing around the unprotected parts of his body. His fangs and claws were tungsten. He was a metal wolf now, a beast. The wolfish instincts told him to attack, and he did. Before his opponent could react, Shado was next to the giant. The tungsten of his claws sliced in a pattern, Shado tried to fully understand, as he danced around an elbow strike. Two more slashes. He was faster. He was the wolf, the hunter. His feet left the ground, his fangs speeding towards the opponent’s neck, ready to deliver death. Something was on the border of his view, but the neck was in front of him. The neck....
Maxar suddenly sat on the ground. His back leaned against the wall. The giant’s thick arm that hit Maxar turned towards him. Shadowolf’s ribs hurt as he stood up. The armoured palm, pointing at Maxar started glowing. [B]“This