AN: My SPARTAN will have similar fighting styles to those of the Freelancers of Red vs Blue.

SPARTAN-A206

CODENAME: DORADO

LEADER OF FIRETEAM WHISP

(WARNING: GORE)

It was going to be a bloodbath.

All the 'Brass Bears' ran at me at once, their weapons raised, and their jaws split, roaring a war cry. There were thirty or so about them, so this was not going to be a quick fight. I snapped my BR onto my back and charged into one of the heavier warriors, knocking him onto the ground. I snapped out my SOCOM and fired multiple shots into his throat. One down, thirty-three to go.

I launched myself backwards as an axe narrowly missed my helmet, which would have definitely damaged my shields a significant bit, and lord knows I don't need that. I made use of the moves I had utilized at the "beheading", and kicked the axe forward with a fraction of my strength. The man who was holding it cried out in agony, as I had most likely dislocated his shoulder.

I ducked downwards and jumped up, flipping over the man and fired three rounds into the Bear's head using the SOCOM. Blood gushed from the shots as the body fell lifelessly onto another one of the enemy troops. I landed and rolled forward, my instincts directing me. I had managed to avoid a Warhammer. I swiftly turned around, grabbing the weapon by the head and stopping the user mid-swing. One hand lifting the massive armament, the other firing at another person with the magnum, I slammed the Warhammer's handler into the ground, then stomped his head into a pulp.

During the SPARTAN-III training, we had been taught how to use bo-staffs. This was essentially the same principle, except for this I would have to counteract the weight of the head. I tore it out of the body's lifeless hands and swung at three of my attackers, hitting them with such force that I knocked their skulls clean off their shoulders. Bones of their now non-existent necks flew everywhere.

I snapped my sword out, decapitating at least one. I twirled it on my right, in case they got any ideas of flanking me from there. Of course, this idea was short-lived, as someone managed to hit it out of my hands and flint it into another person's head, killing another.

In response, I crouched, and made a leg swing, knocking four soldiers off their feet, supporting myself on one of my arms. I quickly spun around and jumped up, my momentum carrying me several feet upwards. I change my position, so I would land directly on top of two of their heads, and be able to carry the Warhammer onto another's. I did so, blood splattering my shins and boots. I aimed the SOCOM and pressed the trigger, but was met with a clicking sound. "Damn it," I grunted. I didn't have the time nor space to reload without some serious implications.

With that in mind, I snap my pistol to my hip and sprint out of the mass of attackers, spinning around with the Warhammer acting as a counterbalance. At the exact moment, I let go, causing it to zoom right through three of my pursuers. The second after that, I pulled out my BR, firing several rounds into the group, downing around seven men. At this point there were only around ten, so a grenade should do it. I reach behind my back and grab a frag. I pull the pin and throw it into the mass of roadside bandits, and slid in behind a tree trunk for cover.

I cover my head as well, since that is a major weak spot for a SPARTAN. Sadly, my cover had been ill-advised and when the grenade blew up, it blasted through the log, and reached me. It threw me back into a tree, causing it to crack into the middle and shower me with leaves. Apart from a few bruises and a headache, I was fine.

I opened my eyes, only to see a Battle-axe spinning at me, and from the trajectory, the blade would carve right into my head. On instinct, I rolled out of the way a split second before the axe punctured the trunk where my head had been a heartbeat ago. It had an odd design, and didn't seem to be what the Brass Bears would have normally used from my limited experience.

It was composed of neatly forged iron; the handle was wrapped in straps of leather and had some claws at the edge.

I placed a hand on the handle, and effortlessly pulled it out of the tree trunk. Because of the loss of my sword, this'll be useful.

SPARTAN-B401

CODENAME: BOLT

SNIPER OF FIRETEAM WHISP

"There's something in the trees…" I heard Circuit mutter, keeping her pistol in hand. She was glancing around warily, keeping her gaze fixed on the surrounding forest. "How do you know?" I asked, grabbing my sniper rifle off my back. "I just feel it…" Circuit responded, now sounding even more paranoid. "Ey – you're at tin-hat levels of creepiness so just take a mo-" I would've said 'moment to calm down' but I was suddenly interrupted by a wolf-like howl splitting through the air,

"They've got our scent," one of the Stormcloaks said, pulling out his Warhammer. "Everyone – be on high alert and keep weapons drawn at all times!" Blast started barking orders, fillings his role as team leader. "They sound like they're a couple hundred yards away," I murmured to myself, keeping my sniper rifle level.

"Does anyone here know the best way to kill a werewolf?" asked Lily. "It's best to aim for the face. Their mouth or eyes, preferably," a heavily scarred Stormcloak rasped, keeping his sword and shield raised. An eerie howling came again, but this one seemed abnormal and unique from the other. I glanced around, seeing if anyone else had noticed the difference. Apparently, Lily had. "Werewolves are people turned into wolves in this place, right?" she asked over the private COMMs. "Yes," I grunted begrudgingly.

"Then wouldn't their howls all be different, just as every human's voice is different? That could explain the different pitched howling, wouldn't it?" she told me her theory. "Well… that's possible… but not probable, as I imagine that their vocal chords are changed along with everything else of their anatomy," I responded, my sentence punctuated by another howl, this time incredibly low. "They sound as if they're within a hundred yards of us," rumbled Blast, keeping his minigun level and swiveling towards the trees. The Stormcloaks all seemed on edge, "Any of you ever seen a werewolf before?"

One of the younger Stormcloaks with a missing eye nodded, "I was patrolling outside the Stormcloak camp when I ran into one. Their huge mountains of muscle, taller than you! They're hunch backed and saliva falls from their jaws like water falls from a waterfall. They're the reason I lost my eye." I shuddered, picturing the beast. Let me tell you, it wasn't very pleasant.

Suddenly, a tree crashed down to our right. "Everyone be ready to defend themselves!" rumbled Blast, putting his finger on the trigger of the gatling gun. Suddenly, a massive, hulkinh behemoth wolf creature lumbered (get it?) out of the woods, straight at us.

We were under attack.