Writing Sample 2

The crowd murmurs died down when the announcer’s booming voice cut the atmosphere so suddenly.

“It’s time for the final event! Hurry up and set your wagers as we bring in our fighters! We have a challenger to the champion’s title! Three hundred pounds of pure muscle, he has come from the deserts of Orgrimmar and now seeks to conquer the ring! Give it up for GOREFANG!”

The crowd cheers as a massive orc stomps into the large arena. This individual is dark green, nearly all muscle, one of the tallest orcs around, and a death knight. This orc had no armor on, he wore cloth wraps around the fists and arms and were bare chested. The only clothes on this fighter are some thick dark pants and a decorative belt lined with various skulls. A brown raptor mask upon Gorefang’s face to hide their real identity. The man did not have a weapon on him as he let out a war cry and pumped his muscles in a show of strength.

“Now welcome our five time champion, here to defend his title, the Black Dog!” Equal amount of cheers and hollering can be heard from the crowd as a raven haired elven death knight stepped silently into the arena. Just like the orc, Achiru came in with no weapons and no armor. He is topless, exposing his pale chest for all to see. Wearing dark pants and boots along with a black dog mask. Raven hair tied into a messy man bun to help keep it out of the way as he fights for his unlife. Right hand and forearm were wrapped in bandaging as well, but the wrist still had that shape as if he was wearing a thick bracelet underneath.

Before Achiru settled and focused on the task at hand, the orc charged the smaller elf. Arms swiping at the Black Dog to make a grab at the opponent. Achiru was rather quick however as he dodged the grapple, ducking and moving to flank the orc. Swinging a fist at the large orc, it didn’t get far as Gorefang caught the fist mid swing.

The death knights seemed evenly matched as they fought without spells. Only using their physical strength for the time being. The orc immediately cranks it up a notch, showing just how much stronger than Achiru he is. The elf is thrown like a rag doll to the ground by his wrist. Achiru has much more agility as he picks himself up and manages to get free of his opponent’s grip. The orc let loose a flurry of strikes, only for the damned elf to dodge and weave around. Unable to land another blow, something had to give.

Gorefang became impatient as they began to look around their environment. Channeling magic to raise some of the corpses of the previous fighters from the dead. These recently deceased zombies would lunge at Achiru when he tried to stop the orc from searching the bodies. Busying the elf long enough to find an axe.

The elven death knight used his own hands to rip the heads off the bodies and render them dead once more. His body became stained with deep reds and wet with cooling blood. It was all so raw and brutal the way he took out the zombies. Sinue and strings of muscle hung around his fingers like grotesque laces. The crowd became animated with cheers as the elven death knight ripped heads off with spinal cords still intact or digging his hands into flesh and tearing the neck bone right out. By the time all the additions had been taken out, the orc reengaged with his new found battle axe and a horde of new zombies. The deadly weapon sliced high with the intention to decapitate.

Achiru’s eyes were ever sharp, dodging and backing from the weapon as the attacks became relentless. The zombies closed in with their own weapons, even one of the dead hydras hissed and stirred. The giant creature that was half eaten climbed to its legs, missing two of its heads, allowing it only one head that is lined with jagged shark-like teeth.

The crowd appeared enthralled with death knights fighting since most had never seen them in action before. It’s the nature of the beast that they are really thrilled by. The raw horror and brutality.

A pair of ice stalagmites shot up from the ground, impaling two of the zombies. It didn’t put them out of commission, but it stopped them from engaging in combat. Once again, needing to create distance from a furious orc that sought his demise. Achiru focused on the remaining humanoid zombies with magic, his eyes turning red as a crimson aura enveloped him. His hands extended towards the zombies, they suddenly shuddered violently and roared. It sounded like a bomb going off, with a boom so loud, those zombies exploded into slabs of gore. Those seated on the lower parts of the arena were in the splash zone. A few of them got blood or stray body parts on them.

Once more the crowd went wild at the spectacle, some names were being chanted. A mix of Gorefang and Black Dog.

The orc used his dark magic to pull Achiru to himself, keeping the elf from running. Forcing the pair into melee range for strikes. The axe is stopped mid swing as Achiru caught it and contested ownership of the weapon. Both death knights fought for the weapon, baring teeth at one another. Gorefang head butted the elf in an attempt to get the upper hand, it seemed to work as Achiru’s hold slackened a moment of daze. The axe’s blade sunk into Achiru’s chest as the elf growled.

In a swift motion, Achiru got himself out of that sticky situation. Sporting a gash on his chest that formed an ‘X’ with his existing death scar. Just as the elf created a healthy amount of distance from the orc, the hydra’s maw came down on Achiru. Unable to react as he became lost in the massive creature’s mouth, swallowed whole, the crowd gasped at the sight. Cheers dying down now that things are becoming intense.

The orc smirked as he raised a hand up in the direction of the creature, just as Achiru had done earlier, the orc’s hand began to glow red. With so much pent up energy applied to the hydra, the creature ballooned before exploding with a boom that actually sent a tremor throughout the arena. The hydra is no more, all that is left in the arena are chunks of flesh and mangled organs. With no movement in sight, Gorefang shot his axe into the air and roared with vigor, celebrating his victory.

About half the crowd now sprayed with blood and gore. Some of it even reached Madam Green’s booth, thankfully a magical barrier stopped any of the spray from hitting the VIP booths. It was hard to see what was happening after that, it took a while for the magic to fade back into idle mode, letting the blood drip down and out of view.

There wasn’t any sign of Achiru anywhere as the orc chose to celebrate with bellowed laughter. The hydra’s remains scattered along the ring with no signs of life. The crowd began to chant Gorefang’s name in celebration, and it looks like he is the new champion. Madam Green wore a slightly perturbed expression upon her powdered face, but for the most part remained calm. The magister in the other booth loudly laughed, as if trying to gain her attention and rub it in her face. Both on betting on opposite opponents.

Arri and Iver were the only ones in the group that seemed torn about this. Granted, neither were really close to Achiru, but he was known to them. It felt like a shame that Achiru would meet his end in a place like his. Anger boiled in Arri’s blood as the magister laughed. Before he could unleash any words on the nobleman, the crowd gasped loudly at something. Their attention was drawn back to the arena as movement is seen within one of the large chunks of hydra.

The Black Dog freed himself from gore with a black barrier surrounding him, it broke apart when he collapsed onto the ground on all fours. Covered from head to toe in body fluids and bits of hydra. The orc froze mid victory to search the arena, spotting the disgusting elf with a growl. A battle cry erupted from his throat as Gorefang charged onwards with an axe high in the air.

It all happened so quickly, hard for any onlookers to comprehend what they saw. Achiru’s form grew larger but it was hard to see his shape, like a dark shadow. The orc got five feet within the elf’s location and suddenly the mass of black that was Achiru launched onto Gorefang.

Before a pin can drop, the orc’s form falls to the ground, the black form standing tall on fours with a head in its mouth. The crowd was silent as they tried to make sense of what they saw. There, the last creature standing in the arena is a large black dire wolf. It had fangs that point downwards instead of the typical ones that jutted upwards from the lower jaw. The creature’s eyes are the bright icy blue like a death knight’s.

With a jerk of the head, the orc’s head is tossed up into the crowd for some unlucky onlooker to have it dropped onto their lap. The lady screamed as she jerked away from it, the shrieks of the lady triggered the animal. Wolf eyes glowing crimson, ears flicking up in alert as it looked around as if suddenly aware of the crowd around it. Baring bloody fangs, tail puffing up and held high, the wolf felt threatened and looked dangerous.