HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun
[JUDGED] Buried by the sands of the hourglass - Printable Version

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Buried by the sands of the hourglass - Maren - 02-18-2015



M A R E N


"We've been here forever
And here's the frozen proof
I could scream forever
We are the poisoned youth."

__________________________

With her hooves sinking deeper in the sands as the morning sun moved higher a dull-eyed tiger-mare watched how horses in the distant waddled and splashed through the water of the oasis. She would've joined them if she hadn't felt so unmotivated to do so. Still, she thought of herself as being bored and unachieved - and she felt useless. Sure, she was a disciple, but compared to the warriors, spies and crafters of the herd she was also simply useless when war did come. The sigh that had left her lips got carried away by the traveling winds of the sea. Having looked at the same spot for too long, she blinked and squeezed her eyes, then looked around her. In the golden haze of the dunes a white unicorn crossed her vision. She couldn't help but feel intrigued, for she had not met a unicorn unicorn in these new lands yet. With a new determined strides she crossed the dune that lay between her and her, for she might have found the diamond of the day - as in; the most interesting thing she could think of at this moment of time.

Coming closer, the unicorns features became clearer and she noticed that they actually looked quite alike. As in body-type, not the horn-funzies that she thankfully had not been cursed with. It seeming very unpractical. Since the tiger-mare had approached the frost-skinned from the back, she made sure to be rough with her movements to make enough noise to not make her jump. Having now moved her own tiger-striped body next to the strangers blank one, she suddenly forgot how to pronounce a simple 'hi'. Obviously that was the heat's fault, so she casually kept her gaze on the horizon where the sea waters waved in the faraway. She pretended to chew on a forgotten grassblade when she glanced from the corner of her eye to spot a crimson eye. Suddenly she knew what to say. "You seem out of place somehow."




Setting: A regular morning in the Throat with rising temperatures. Sand dunes made of loose grains and uneven ground. Also a bit hazy, but with still a bright sun.
Teaching spar with @[Ophelia].
[0/3]


|| Notes: || Wordcount: 334 || "talking" ||




RE: Buried by the sands of the hourglass - Ophelia - 02-18-2015

Ophelia
Lost in the shadow of an endless grace...


Explosions had shaken the ground as she remained on the sands, her communication with Gaucho having happened only briefly prior. Strange, dual colored gaze stared out at the horizon, watching rolling waves cresting where the ocean had never been allowed before. Absently, she pondered the ramifications of such a drastic change, and she shuddered at the thought of being trapped on an island. Ophelia, though perhaps owing her allegiance here and there throughout time, was a wanderer - hooves ruled by soul. Being surrounded by waters on all sides was the definition of misery. Fortunately, she was given a key, one currently being stashed by her dragon, Tinek, and she was free to come and go as she pleased. Such were the rewards of aiding the leader in returning his memories, she supposed.

Billowing sand irritated her short, white coat, and she blinked long, white lashes against her cheeks, trying her best to ignore the sun. Ophelia would stay only long enough to made proper appearances before making the long trek north to her home of cascading white snowbanks and effortlessly heavenward mountains. Her heart soared at the thought, fluttering at the possibility of seeing him there. The Sun God’s wisdom had set her on a new course, and she looked forward to the possibility of hope and trust – two emotions wrenched from the icy confines of her soul from years of torment.

Sticky sweat clung to her coat, darkening overlapping skin which appeared almost blue given then dark tint beneath fine, white hairs. Long ago, she remembered this feeling, remembered living in this land under another leader: Kri. She had been so young then, naïve and foolish. Just there at the tree she had denounced Kri, stating her resignation after the warrior-queen’s decree had cost Ophelia her very identity. Mousy, gray lips curled downward in a thoughtful frown, disappearing into the perfect, flawlessly etched tomes of her eidetic mind. Remembering all in stunning clarity was a gift and a curse, and she exhaled heavily, counting the seconds until she could politely return to the land she lead in the north.

Rustling sounds of hooves on sand caught her attention, and Ophelia’s delicately tipped ears snapped back, listening to the interloper with interest. Carefully, she turned her head to look over her back, her silver armor glinting brightly in the summer sun. White tendrils of mane tumbled over her shoulders and caught in her horn, the ends drenched in hues of clotted blood. One eye was a graceful, sky blue and the other a violent, hazy red, and they swept over the mare with curiosity, analyzing the fine details which etched themselves permanently in her mind. This stranger was lovely, unique in color and fascinating all at once. Perhaps the most interesting feature was the two, feathered wings behind her ears – rather useless, but pretty nonetheless.

A single, amused brow quirked at this stranger’s words, her accented voice rolling and bold for her size. Ophelia smiled, not the least bit insulted. Perhaps once, she belonged here, but never once had she called the desert her home. She and the God of the Sun would just have to agree to disagree on the glories of his wretchedly hot desert. “Astute,” she replied, nodding. “I am Ophelia the Forsaken, Lady of the Aurora Basin.” Ophelia’s own tones were soft, chime-like and girlish. A soft hush set listeners at ease, and her tongue enunciated with the grace of a leader. The way she spoke, the lithe edges of her slender figure and her clever tact all made her appear to be an unassuming, non-threatening mare, but she was a shadow, a thief in the night and a spy among spies. Little occurred in Helovia that she did not know about, and on more than one occasion, she had manipulated herds for her gain, but never once had she been caught…

“I am a friend of Gaucho’s, and I came to see if he was all right. While I am here, I pledged to aide his herd in whatever ways I can. Tell me, what can I do for you?” Her question was asked earnestly, an honest interest backing the gentle inquiry.


---------

(698 words) (0/3)
@[Maren]


Credits: Image by Schwartze @ DA



RE: Buried by the sands of the hourglass - Maren - 02-19-2015



M A R E N


"We've been here forever
And here's the frozen proof
I could scream forever
We are the poisoned youth."

__________________________

Pearl white feathered wings quietly swayed in the wind as her eyes looked up and spotted a silhouette of a dragon. She had not yet met anyone here that was bonded to one of those.

"Astute,"

A chuckle left her throat and she smiled into the breeze. She could now only wait for the frost-skinned to say the same about her. She felt as one of the crowd as much as she felt needed. No one wanted to cry their hearts out to a disciple anymore, not these days. Although they should be crying, since those idiots above just let loose an outdated moon goddes. I cry about it. Because it was so stupid. But alas. Living with her must have made their upper world an almighty hell, so she had already forgiven. As was also her job.

Relieved that she finally managed to start on a good foot with someone for once, she listened carefully to the mare's soft spoken voice as she spoke. Her eyebrows rose and she couldn't help her smile change into a secretive sneer as her head tilted. Unnoticed by herself, her wings had lifted themselves up a tad, awoken from their depressed, sweltering state. Hello, we've got a big-shot over here. It was simply... weirdly exciting to be talking to the leading mare that would not let any of her kind into the territory of their herdlands - which did bother her somehow.

Of all the mare's that she had not managed to start on a good foot with, she was glad Ophelia was not one of them. So with the swelling sun, covered by a thin layer of golden haze, in the background, the tigermare performed a short bow, ends of her lightweight ivory mane pulled up by the wind and pale wings stretched out parallel to the horizon behind. "Well then, Forsaken Ophelia, Lady of the Aurora Basin, it is I, Maren, disciple of the Throat, who is truly thrilled to meet you." Her velvet voice embracing her exotic appearance. She looked up again at this frost-skinned mare who's identity had been a unusual surprise to uncover.

Having refound comfort in a static stance, she glanced at the Forsaken from the side. "Yes, these times appear to have been difficult ones. But I have faith that the Gods will look down with judicious eyes." Meaning that she wouldn't have to worry, his family would do that for her. The gesture was nice, though, for she seemed a nice mare. Probably a fair leader in their own realm, for principles differ with each culture. That she had learned on her travels, so Maren would not be the one to disapprove of that, discourage or look down on it. No, she found it massively interesting and welcomed the knowledge in her life.

She did ask what she could do for me. But somehow she did not thought that granting her a peak beyond that curtain of theirs would be something she could lay on the table, so she simply chuckled again, and then sighted, eyes remembering the depressing thoughts of earlier and reflecting it at the world. Because, however exciting, her real life did not at all spin around the Basin, was just a mere corner in that endless web of hers. "I don't know what you can do for me." The corners of her mouth had stiffened under thoughtful eyes. Was was probably so much to be done for her, but that meant for her to get creative and she needed inspiration for that, which the heat denied her. So for seconds it was silent. Then, once again, she glanced at Ophelia, taking a deep breath and began carefully. "I haven't really fought in over a year... And I have seen some other horses do it, spar each other for training purposes." She threw a quick glance in the direction of the oasis, as if able to watch a memory. "And you know..." Having refocused on the present, Maren rolled the muscles under her alabaster hide, but still with caution in the deeper layers of her voice: "If our herds will ever turn to war again, I want it to be the blood of all but my own kin flowing." I want to be of use. And I want you to help me learn to protect me against you. She knew that she wouldn't stand a chance in a full fight, though. She was, after all, chosen to be Lady of the Basin for a reason. But that would not matter, for she loved a good rush of adrenaline in the morning, and this would certainly do it. "So what do you say, Ophelia? Would you like to twist and twirl in the golden rush of our blazing sun with me for a change?"



@[Ophelia].
[0/3]

|| Wordcount: 799 -cough- || "talking" ||




RE: Buried by the sands of the hourglass - Ophelia - 02-20-2015

Ophelia the Forsaken
text goes here


Ophelia did not hold her title like a weapon used to beat down the oppressed. She was not a queen at heart. The mare was a spy, used to operating in the shadows and being summarily ignored by society, and though she had run a herd once before – the Foothills – this position seemed much more public. The Grey, her former band, had never allied nor was involved in such politics. The mercenaries and spies she had gathered from the dark corners of the world united under a similar principle of anonymity and violence, but now she was plunged into this political agenda of which she had little practice and understanding. Her saving grace was that deep down, she was a kind and understanding soul, and her loyalty was fierce and unwavering. One day, all would die, and they would be equals once more. The weight of leadership hung on her shoulders, and she was more a servant than a ruler. Her herd deserved her every thought and devotion, and through her actions, she would honor the masses that looked to her for protection, guidance and victory. There was no reason to look down on others – for they were freer than she would ever be.

This stranger’s bow was deep and honorable, and Ophelia returned it swiftly, dipping the tip of her pearly, twisted horn to the sands. Rising, she listened to her introductions, smiling softly when she realized that this mare was a voice for the Sun God. The bright light hanging from her horn bobbed, and she took a deep breath, feeling peace with this encounter. “I am honored to meet you as well,” she replied. “The God of the Sun is magnificent, and you are fortunate to be one of his students.” Perhaps she was a little envious, but she stilled her heart’s frantic clawing. Though, perhaps her faith in the gods was slightly naïve? The gods were many things, but judicious was not a quality she would assign to many. Perhaps the God of the Earth was the most fair, but they were just as mortal on the inside was she was on the outside. Their pain, anguish, heartbreak and joy rippled through the land, unfettered.

Thus, she simply nodded, hoping that they would be judicious but not having faith that they would succeed. Ophelia offered her services then, determined to make a good impression while she was invited beyond the borders, and she observed the striped Maren’s expressive eyes think and consider. The pale princess stood patiently, the brutal sun on the rise, and she began to sweat in the corners of her body. Surprised that this exotic creature’s mind so swiftly turned to violence, her lips upturned slightly, a welcoming smirk making her beautiful features seem somehow even more mischievous. Was it wrong to say that her heart ached for war? That she craved violence and bloodshed like her ancestors of old? The verdict was still out on that case.

“Maren, it would be my pleasure to spar with you,” she agreed wholeheartedly. With a few, carefully placed steps, Ophelia backed away from their close meeting, giving distance to start this battle. Fear of failure gnawed at the edges of her confidence, but she took a deep breath, trying to settle into what she knew. The battle with Deimos had been dismal, and she knew now that she had to be more careful. Each action had to be weighed and considered, and she paused to arrange her first attack. Strange, dual colored eyes swept over her opponent, judging that this would be another even match, most likely similar to her one with Deimos. Ophelia’s height could give her leverage, and her muscles were bound to her form upright and with a tight, steep angled shoulder. Agility would be her miniscule strength, and she would have to use it wisely. Tinek, observing her mind, circled downward, his silver scales shimmering in the daylight, and he sat to perch on a nearby rock. The dragon would not interfere unless necessary, and his hawkish eyes watched the pair. He would not let his bonded suffer again –no matter how much she urged him to let her fight her own battles.

“If we are going to practice, we need to make this real,” she replied. “I will not hold back, and I expect that you will follow suit.” Ophelia lunged forward, dipping her head to her chest as her cloven toes gripped the sand below. Her alabaster body jumped, horn aimed at Maren’s left shoulder. She twisted her neck, keen on slicing the sharpened tip up the tiger mare’s side. The light on her forehead, a gift from the Sun God, flashed with a white light as she landed, hopefully deterring attack from behind.


-------------------------

(795 words in word) (1/3)
- Ophelia backs away then lunges forward, using her horn like a sword and tries to cut her from her left shoulder along her body

I'll start my teaching notes once you reply with an attack :)
Also, don't forget to wait for the roll to reply. Remember that a 1-2 are minimally injuring, but a 6 is full damage from the attack! I find it useful to make a scale in my head before replying so that I know how severe I am going to take damage.

@[Maren]


Credits: Image by Schwartze @ DA



RE: Buried by the sands of the hourglass - Maren - 02-22-2015

(02-19-2015, 06:46 PM)Maren Wrote:


M A R E N


"We've been here forever
And here's the frozen proof
I could scream forever
We are the poisoned youth."

__________________________

She awakened herself from her ever so sleepy mind, turned her senses vigil once again. Only now she heard the sounds of the chirping of birds, coming from the oasis, and felt the minuscule grains of these desert sands under her hooves. Shamelessly the mare stretched her muscles, letting her body be carried backwards as her dirt colored legs stretched forward under her, half gliding away in the loose sands. How did she used to prepare for a fight again? It was a blur. As was everything since the swamp.

With the mare backing off to create enough space to start their battle, she only now noticed how her other eye was different. Blue. It was perfect. Pretty, even. But what stung her vision more was the spiraling horn that gleamed in the suns brightness between her eyes, pointing at the sky and demanding power. A horn might be a curse - and foremost a nuisance to live with, but it was bloody hell fortunate to have one when it came down to fighting. Next to that the mare was wearing light armor. God damn., sure to be cursing a hell lot more in the continuation of this fight. She would confess and forsake her sins when this was over. The tiger-mare took a deep breath, concentrating, easing her heartbeat. "Then I won't, either.", she smiled. The mare opposite her lowered her head, and she did the same, also folding the wings behind her ears so that its knuckles only slightly pointed outwards, and feathery fingers lay stretched against her striped neck.

And then Ophelia, Lady of the Aurora Basin, came at her; horn pointing frightfully. Maren's body reacted as the horn drew closer by letting herself fall to the left at the last minute. Keeping herself steady, in balance like a leaf, by spreading her wings. In her half-rear she attempted to get the pure white hide of the Forsaken between her teeth. A move that had come from instinct and now made the corners of her mouth crack. Meanwhile, she sank slightly through the joints of her back legs to gather power. When her front-hooves came down with a fush in the sand, she let the assembled stress go and threw her hindquarters up, bucking, hoping to hit Ophelia's flank. Along with her buck she had thrown up sand which clouded their imaginary arena, but it was not enough to sabotage their vision. If the sun hadn't been so strong, she could have used her mists to take away her visibility, but for now it was useless. Maren turned around through the heavy sand, intending to keep her opponent inside her field of vision.

They were waltzing on slippery slopes of gold. But even as her tongue dried of the deserts' dust between her now crunching teeth, she couldn't help but forget about the sweltering heat and the aching of her outstretched muscles when the adrenaline moved as her own kind of gold through her system.




@[Ophelia]
[1/3, summary; Maren dodged Ophelia's attack and attempted to bit her in her back, then attempted a buck, aimed at her flanks.]

|| Wordcount: 498 || "talking" ||




RE: Buried by the sands of the hourglass - Ophelia - 02-27-2015

Ophelia the Forsaken
still the raven knows if I fall

Ophelia watched the way her curious feathery appendages (could she call them wings just by shape alone?) pressed against the nape of her neck, and she wanted to smile. They had no real function besides expression of emotion, but regardless, they were beautiful in their frivolity. Maren returned her sentiments on the battle, and she nodded subtly in response, liking this Disciple already. She was as fiery as the burnished orange of her coat and as mysterious as her even stripes. Space between them increase before the battle started a brief pause of palatable tension sparking in the air. Tinek, the silver dragon, remained seated on the nearby rock, observing her bonded engage again in combat. He wished her well by flooding her mind with calming colors, giving hope to her heart.

The pale princess dug her cloven toes into the sand, launching her body forward with spiraled horn wielded like a sword. She yanked her head to the side, intent on spearing Maren across her side, but the winged angel fell to the left, dropping from her attack with such graceful ease. Ophelia swiftly gathered her long, pale legs beneath her, propelling her body out of the vicinity. She heard teeth snap behind her, a bite narrowly missed as she dodged Maren’s attack. Ears tilted back and focus wavering; Ophelia took a harsh misstep onto a sharp rock, bruising the tender sole of her right gray, split hoof. She yanked the leg upward in shock, gasping as the painful sting radiated up her whole leg. Swiftly, she used the toe of her hoof to kick it out of the way, eyes scanning the ground to ensure that she was safe from further stones.

How many bloody times would she manage to injure herself in a battle? The mare’s ears tilted back, her expression curling into a scowl as her thoughts wandered back to her fight with Deimos in which his damage compounded with her inexperience and clumsiness to result in a catastrophic failure. Ophelia had never been so embarrassed or defeated before, and this battle was shaping up to be a similar disaster. Seconds spanned as her thoughts collided, and she spied Maren gathered strength in her hindquarters out of the corner of her left, blue eye. Ophelia set low on her haunches and backed away quickly, relying on her agile, sloping frame to narrowly escape the whispering hooves that wooshed just past her nose.

Long, white lashes flickered against her cheeks, protecting her strange, dual-colored eyes from the offending sands, and Ophelia snapped them back open the moment familiar thuds of hoof to sand alerted her to safety. She took the opportunity to unravel her powers, mental fingers sliding their way to Maren’s brain in the hopes that she could erase the memories of her present position. Battle required too much concentration to dig deep into the past, but she possibly could appear invisible as seconds of time flittered away from existence. Hopefully shielded by memory loss, the pale princess jumped toward her opponent’s left side, jaws wide open and aiming to bite along the tiger’s crest.

Pale ivories bared, she shifted, moving what she intended to be nose to tail, and desired to scrape her maw along the mare’s spine. Not wanting to linger long behind the powerful limbs of her quarters, Ophelia spin swiftly to the right, hip fixed while her shoulder carried her in a semi-circle. Upon the conclusion of her turn, she lashed out with her hind hooves. Very little power thrust with her kick, and she landed nearly as quickly, hoping that her quick actions had staved off any brutal attack. Fighting with the silver armor was slowly getting easier, and its weight and hindrance were no longer crippling detriments. In fact, she barely noticed the light, minimalist weight arcing over her form anymore, and the light hanging from her horn throbbed with the beat of her heart.

Breath came in gasps, the weight of the air pressing on her lungs. Sweat frothed at her sides as the heat of the rising sun intensified.


[[(681 words) (2/3)
- Ophelia takes the crit miss damage by bruising the sole of her right hoof
- She dodges Maren's bite by leaning out of the way and jumps to dodge her kick
- Ophelia uses her memory erasing magic to try to erase her last position from Maren's memory, giving her the illusion of being invisible
- Ophelia then lunges forward, trying to bite Maren's crest and scrape her teeth down her back
- Turns on her haunches and kicks out ]]

@[Maren]

Credits: Image by Schwartze @ DA


Teaching Notes
First I want to say - great post! You had amazing imagery that really brought me into the heat of the environment. There were amazing details included like the sand Maren kicked up that definitely added to the overall picture of their battle. The following are my suggestions for your future posts and battles bullet pointed for ease.

1. How did Maren dodge? I get that she fell to the side, but how did her wings help her balance? This is one of those details in battle where you really want to get specific. Did she stay really close by? Did she narrowly miss Ophelia's horn? Did she miss by a wide margin?

2. Emotion! How does it feeling getting attacked my a unicorn's horn right from the start? Is she purely analytical? Does she not let her heart get in the way of her head? I really want to get into Maren's heart when you write her, and I feel like you definitely had some word-space to add to the over all "feel" of the battle. Why is she fighting? Does she still feel the same way about battle?

3. A few word issues: "fush" - I am not sure if you meant to type something else? "God damn., sure to be cursing a hell lot more in the continuation of this fight." Why will Maren be cursing? I think if you had worded it like this: "God damn! Maren was sure to be cursing like hell during the fight for not being as heavily equipped." If it's an intimate though, you can also set it apart with italics to differentiate between her personal observations and yours as a third person narrator.

4. Description! You had quite a bit of room to had some more description - particularly about your attacks. I know this round was difficult since you did not roll any damage, but you said that Maren tried to bite Ophelia - where? How hard? Also, you said that the bite was out of instinct - why? Is there some bit of history that explains this? Or is it just primal?

5. "...she let the assembled stress go and threw her hindquarters up, bucking, hoping to hit Ophelia's flank." I think that this was your best attack because it gave both description of her physical action as well as an intended target/direction.


That's it for now! I'll have more notes for your next posts <3333


RE: Buried by the sands of the hourglass - Maren - 02-27-2015



M A R E N


"We've been here forever
And here's the frozen proof
I could scream forever
We are the poisoned youth."

__________________________

Her teeth clacked together, grasping only dusty air between them as she had not anticipated enough on where she wanted to hit. She had hesitated, and now she had left them even where she'd been supposed to take the lead. Immediately after the sheer action, she had spread her wings. Although they were useless for the purpose of flight, they did still grant her the art of balance, regulating the air caught beneath them and steadying herself. In the little time that was stretched between these attacks, Ophelia had managed to stumble over a rock, which had lain buried underneath the sand. Coming down on her front she kicked out her back hooves, only to throw up sand instead of the target she had been meaning to hit.

Her vigilant eyes swiftly followed the grey mare as their movements never stopped to take a break. Her opponent was agile and swift. The way she jumped to dodge her buck had definitely inspired her and made her realize this mare would not be surprised so easily.
The sun shone down upon them, heating up their arena with its rising fires and flaring light. But she had been looking into the light already the whole day, so she was as little disturbed by it as possible. By all their continuing moving around, the sandy desert-floor had, however, grown more affected and the golden glittering clouds grew as their fight went on. Maren had already finished her U-turn, half sliding through the grains, and charged at the Forsaken once again, wings folded with knuckles pointing to the sides like horns. With her lips curled and ears laid back, she saw how Ophelia's eyes lay closed, shut tight as the tigerstriped mare neared to bump that white slim body right off her hooves. Her nostrils widened, snorting low. What the hell are you doing?

Something snapped.

She stumbled over the rock Ophelia the Forsaken had carelessly kicked aside, for Maren had lost target.

It came so suddenly that it was almost as if she had simply forgotten she was there, wherever that was supposed to be. Maren could swear that the grey had been in the haziness of the sands; in front of her, a horse-length away just mere seconds ago. Her eyes had now opened wide, shocked as in how she could not have seen her coming - and for dangerous seconds, her movements were still like stone. Ophelia had appeared out of nothing, like a stroke of a brush suddenly made; a white drop of paint spilled on a brightly painted canvas, ruining it. She was not supposed to be here, her thoughts screamed. She was supposed to be thére. But teeth scraped like fires on her frozen body and she was too late to do something about it. Pain biting in her flesh like ice-water in the middle of winter. Confused and hurt she ripped herself away from the absent of motion, and when she had pulled herself together; when the mare seemed close-by enough, she stretched her neck in the direction of Ophelia's quickly moving hindquarters; attempting to snap her irate, frustrated teeth at her white butt. She would not let the girls filthy Basin-breath get blown into her face without her knowing ever again. Frustration grew in the company of the angry thumping of a growing bruise under torn skin.

But the tigermare would not let all her endeavors be swung and slipped aside that easily, for she had her pride to uphold. With the flow of flared adrenaline she kicked up her hindquarters once again in the direction of where the unicorns head was supposed to be. Then, in the same chain of movements, she put her weight on her hind and swirled her body in a rear towards her opponent. While she did, Ophelia kicked out, too. Maren, being in a weird kind of body-curl and mid-rear, took a hit against her own, left leg. It stung, but it faded quickly as it was nothing compared to the red-sweating bruises on her side. Finding balance once again, she then attempted to counter-attack by slamming down her hooves into the hind-hocks of the Forsaken's; all the while keeping her head high, hopefully out of bucking-range. Immediately after the tiger-striped mare hit the sandy ground again, she turned around; finishing her spin to the left, and got on that same side of Ophelia. Trusting that she was fast enough, she tried to slam her own body against hers while flapping her wings in her face to hopefully hit an eye with the outstretched feathers.

Anyone looking from a distant would see a mushroom-formed cloud of sand, glittering in the sunlight, the two competitors almost invisible from outside the walls of dust.





@[Ophelia]
[[ 2/3,
Summary: Affected by Ophelia's magic, she takes the scraping (most of the damage) over her crest after tripping (little damage) over Ophelia's rock. After the scraping Maren attempts to bite Ophelia's butt. Then Maren bucks; aiming at her head, then turns around in a rear at the same time that Ophelia bucks. Maren takes a (little damage) hit on her left leg from that last attack, but counter-attacks by slamming her own hooves into the hindquarters of Ophelia. After, Maren attempts to slam her body into that of Ophelia, after their turning and bucking, meanwhile also flapping her wings, aiming for eyes. ]

|| Wordcount: 760 || "talking" ||




RE: Buried by the sands of the hourglass - Ophelia - 03-01-2015

Ophelia the Forsaken
text goes here

The sands and dust settled for but a moment as the Basin Lady concentrated, moving through her opponent’s mind and slowly erasing her position. This tactic had not worked well on Deimos, but perhaps that was because she had not been as thorough. The mind was a delicate organ and some were much quicker, it seemed, at recovering from her effects. Without hesitation, she shifted, watching Maren charge from while under the safety of invisibility and side-stepping the attack. The second she watched the tiger mare stumble over the rock, Ophelia jolted into action, ignoring whatever confusion her opponent must be feeling. This was exactly why the battle had been prefaced with no holds barred and they had obtained an agreement. War was neither beautiful nor fair, and Ophelia was a realist. She would be doing her charge a disservice by decreasing the potency of her actions. White teeth scraped over the orange striped crest, and Ophelia tasted the bitter tang of dirt and sweat on her tongue. The flavor stuck to her palate, clouding her sense of smell.

Pride washed over her soul at her success, but she did not let the emotion stay for long. The battle would continue on, and ego would too easily tip the scales. A sharp bite pinched the skin on her haunches, and Ophelia swung them outward in a semi-circle, the nip not breaking skin but bruising beneath her white hairs. She snorted indignantly, glad that she had let go of her pride seconds before because that nip would have stung more than just her body. The pale princess focused, working on minimizing whatever damage she took in this close quarters round. She shifted her weight forward, lashing her hind hooves backward at the same time as Maren, feeling the tip of a cloven hoof land against flesh. Ophelia turned to see where, surprised that the tiger mare had done the same and musing absently that great minds do indeed think alike. A small mark on a creamy colored leg was the only indication of her hit, it seemed. She held no ill will for her opponent as her only goal today was to train.

She let her hind hooves come to rest on the ground once more and then side-stepped another crash of Maren’s hooves, but she was unable to move out of the way fast enough to avoid the next onslaught. The Tiger mare’s body hit her square shoulder, now parallel to one another with Ophelia’s withers towering over Maren’s. Her opponent’s lower center of gravity knocked her off balance, and she stumbled, hooves scrambling in the sand and kicking up clouds of dirt. The pale princess coughed, trying to rid her lungs of the irksome grains as her bruised shoulder smarted from being hit. With a lowered neck from her stumble, she yelped as a single feather’s point poked at her right, red eye, and she shut it quickly, feeling tears well up to protect the tender orb. The feather caused no lasting damage, and she jerked her neck upward, trying to use her height to intimidate and avoid further attacks from troublesome head feathers. Cautiously, she opened her eye while simultaneously shoving back with her shoulder, lifting her right foreleg and smashing it downward in an attempt to scrape the flesh from her left fore-canon.

Sweat clung to her heaving sides, the salty foam gathering between her legs and colliding with the sand rather miserably. She twitched her tail in irritation, hating feeling so absolutely dirty and covered in wet grime. Ophelia was not a vain creature in the least. In fact, she thought herself to be rather unattractive and strange, but she did care about feeling comfortable. The sun rising did not help the matter any as the air stilled and grew hotter – hot enough to feel as if she could not breathe. Ophelia spun away again, turning on her haunches and minding the bruise lingering on her fore-hoof. As she moved she realized that the hit to her shoulder was starting to cramp the muscles too, making every movement ache as she stepped. Swiftly, she turned her head and neck, making a quick bend with her body and lunging toward Maren with the spiraled, pearly weapon on her brow. Ophelia winced as her leg jostled when she landed, but she completed the arc of her attack by swinging her head to the side, hoping to pierce along Maren’s body.



[[(741 words) (3/3)
- Ophelia takes a bite on the haunches
- She avoids the kick but is slammed into with right shoulder to Maren's left shoulder
- A feather pokes her in the eye D: owie
- She uses her height to try to shove Maren over and uses a foreleg to try to scrape Maren's canon
- tries to disentangle and turns to use her horn to scrape over Maren's side]]

@[Maren]

Credits: Image by Schwartze @ DA


Teaching Notes
1. I read through your battle quite a few times and still really never was able to see what Maren was doing. Why would she kick out at Ophelia twice? Did she kick out at Ophelia twice? I am going to use this part as an example since this is what confused me:

"Then, in the same chain of movements, she put her weight on her hind and swirled her body in a rear towards her opponent. While she did, Ophelia kicked out, too. Maren, being in a weird kind of body-curl and mid-rear, took a hit against her own, left leg. It stung, but it faded quickly as it was nothing compared to the red-sweating bruises on her side. Finding balance once again, she then attempted to counter-attack by slamming down her hooves into the hind-hocks of the Forsaken's;"

I guess what confused me is which set of hooves is trying to slam on Ophelia's hocks? Her hind ones? Is she trying to kick again? If her front hooves, how did she manage to get that close to Ophelia's hind end? If her hind hooves, then I would make sure to indicate that she is kicking out again and then aiming the kick lower than before. But, in your summary, you said this: "Then Maren bucks; aiming at her head,". If she was aiming at Phi's head, how did they manage to kick each other's hind legs?

Sometimes what helps me is bullet pointing my attacks and defenses to help me get through some of the confusion. For example, I can take our last few moves/counter moves like this:

--- Ophelia managed to bite Maren's back which means that they have to be close. So, since Maren is biting, that has a chance of landing. Since they are parallel but nose to tail, that means that the bite would land on her butt.
--- Ophelia kicked Maren in the back leg which means that their butts are facing each other. That means that they would be somewhat apart, so Maren hit her shoulder and put them back together again.

Bullet pointing and doing a flow chart with arrows really helps me out and get the grasp of the sequence of events.

2. "She stumbled over the rock Ophelia the Forsaken had carelessly kicked aside, for Maren had lost target. " I love this damn rock! It's really awesome that you take small details from these posts and incorporate them back. It really makes the battle seem quick paced and very rounded out.

3. A few little grammar things here and there: " girls filthy Basin-breath" should be girl's since it's possessive.

4. I was super impressed with how you distributed the damage, but I do want to add that a "6" is the highest dice roll that you can get. So when it says this....

"Damage: 1d6 rolled for a total of: 6 (6) + 6 (character's damage stat)"

That 1d6 is a 6 sided dice, so the max it can roll is a 6. This means that Ophelia dealt the maximum damage possible. Typically, I like to make sure that there is some blood/open wounds with a 6, even if I did distribute the damage. I'll leave it up to the judges to decide that part, but if I were judging this fight, that is something that I would note under the "realism" section.

5. Otherwise, AWESOME FIGHT! I love how fast paced and awesome this is. It feels very real and tangible. I also love that you incorporated more of Maren's emotion this time around. I could definitely feel how she was thinking and reaction which made this battle a pleasure to write to.

6. Please feel free to ask any questions! Even though you are posting your 3/3 next, I will write another teaching note when I post back with my closing defense.


<33333333333333


RE: Buried by the sands of the hourglass - Maren - 03-07-2015



M A R E N


"We've been here forever
And here's the frozen proof
I could scream forever
We are the poisoned youth."

__________________________

The dust fell around them as if the desert was falling apart. She had managed to bite the frosted mare's withers, pinching the flesh between her frustrated teeth. But Ophelia moved away to swiftly for the tigermare to cut through. Her left hoof felt heavy with the thumping muscles above her pastern, weighing it down. She had once again found ground again, then moved to bump her body into her opponent. Her wings were not meant for flight, but with their size and weight she imagined them being much easier to control than the big-shots that could be sweeping through the currents, high up in the air. No, her wings were meant for the subtle and crafty – surprising purposes.

As she was now brushing her feathers along the melting ice that were Ophelia's sweating cheeks, there was no caring intention present, no timid, careful stroking. These long feathered fingers could be a soft caress, a touch of the sweetest kind - They were able to hold what felt lost, cold and anguished with comforting grace. But not right now. Right now she could only hope she had punctured something with their pointy ends. Whether they had or had not, she could not know, for as much as they impersonated hands, she could still not feel anything with them but the air they moved.

The tigermare had managed to bring Ophelia to a stumble by having her knocked out of balance for a moment. Unfortunately straight after, the sly Forsaken used Maren's own move against her, bumping into her, almost as if she was trying to make the point that her height still overpowered hers. In a sudden movement, the striped mare's leg jumped up as one all but soft hoof clashed and ran alongside her earlier dirt-colored canon; now adorned with a texture of red sprinkles and ripples... – Stings and bruised muscles included. She gasped as the impulses broke through in her brain, breathing in the dust. As she coughed against the desert dust in her dry throat while she moved on with a limping left fore-leg.

The hit earlier combined with this one had taken its toll. With her slowed movements she was obliged to think more carefully about her attacks, for bucking and any swift turns would only work against her. But alas, she could not take her fine time thinking strategy in the heat of the battle, so whilst she was still next to the taller standing Ophelia, Maren's chapped lips parted once again to reveal teeth. She lowered her head, curled her neck where ears lay flat, and with eyes sparkling fierce, attempted a new bite. This one aimed at the muscles around her windpipe above her shoulder.

Then Ophelia the Forsaken suddenly moved herself from the tigermare's side and turned around in a rear. In the swiftness of the moment Maren's eyes glanced upwards and saw the unicorn's weapon glimmering in the sunlight, the spear's narrowing ending barely even visible against the light. Then the Forsaken came down. Maren tried to move away, but she was not fast enough for the sword that cut into her flesh, drawing a whole new red, but horizontal, stripe-marking on her shoulder. She groaned, pained, as she moved her body away, but by doing so only making the cut worse. Red leaked from the wound, mixing with the sweat that covered her thin summer-coat. Having finally escaped and having created just enough space between them, she glanced over her shoulder with eyes now crowned by a frown. She forced herself to overcome and forget the wounds she would have to bear with, for she would not let herself lose focus because of them. Scrambling together resulting energy, she took a deep breath. As she started to move again, she let out her mists, for she hoped, with the already present clouds of sand, they would mix together; forming a veil the tigermare could hide under until she could attack in surprise. So while charging, she let out her breath with the thick fog it now carried, let it spread out and mix with the dust as it left her lips. She knew it would evaporate quickly – was already doing so. So she acted quickly while she continued to add to the disappearing mists. And then Maren just went for it, as it was – as much as she hated to even think it – her last resort. So jumping out of a - hopefully - thick enough curtain, she put her weight on her back-legs and reared towards the mare. Her front hooves (but mostly her right one) desperately hoping to hit the right-facing hips of the pale Lady hard, for she wanted – No, needed to return the favor for the ugly, stinging and burning shoulder-wound.





[3/3, @[Ophelia]
Summary: • Got shoved by Ophelia and then scraped her left fore-canon, causing her to limp. • Attempts bite at the muscles around her wind-pipe (not at her windpipe, that is too severe if it'd hit - I guessed - for a training spar) • Got punctured and cut by Ophelia's horn. • Used her mists, mixed it with the already present dust to hopefully create a surprise attack: Leaping at her and slamming her front-hooves at her, aimed at her hip. ]

|| Wordcount: 794 || "talking" ||


Thanks for the teaching notes! They are quit helpful! <3 She did bleed by the way from Ophelia's last bite: "It stung, but it faded quickly as it was nothing compared to the red-sweating bruises on her side." Maybe it was to vague, though.


RE: Buried by the sands of the hourglass - Ophelia - 03-24-2015

Ophelia the Forsaken
text goes here


Oddly enough, Ophelia realized that she did not think of Maren’s extra appendages as wings at all. Rather, they were feathery ears of sorts, and never having flown or experienced wind through feathers, she could not imagine that they would be in any way useful. Even as one of the feathers poked her eye, she found it to be more of a nuisance, and she felt tear stains leak down her cheeks, gathering the dust their hooves loosed until it was a streak of blackish brown marring the skin beneath her crimson eye. Irritation like a thousand gnats humming in her ears overwhelmed the pale princess with a singular urge to retaliate, though she justified her actions with the preface of the spar: no holding back. Their collision, though rough on her joints, was worth the pain. A pawn for a queen. One of her cloven hooves gained purchase on a slender canon, sliding down the bone until she hit sand again, and Ophelia did not let emotion cross her face. The worst mistake she could make would be to take pleasure in another’s pain and be distracted from her enemy’s counter strike.

Wise words proved advantageous. Ophelia jerked her head downward as she prepared to spin, narrowly missing ivory jaws gnashing at her throat. She curved her body, coming down from a towering, white height and swinging her horn, feeling the tip catch on the familiar protest and release of splitting flesh. Curious, how the skin seemed so eager to encase the body until the point it groaned, unable to take the strain of bloodthirsty weapons to reveal soft, red meat inside. Each of them had such fragile shells, barely capable of holding together the bones and blood, barely any protection against the wills of power-hungry fighters. Fortunately, her skin was fortified with silver bands, encasing her in an armored shell not unlike the crustaceans she had watched on the shores of the Moonlit Tides as a child. Vicious little creatures they were – so eager to pinch curious children.

Together, the two created distance, her horn dripping with blood that snaked down the spiral and stained the white of her face. Crimson liquid curved down her eyes like war paint, catching in her white lashes and collecting in beads of garnet. The color, coagulating to muddy red, matched the deep tones that tainted the fringes of her hair, making her look positively and gorgeously lethal. Liquid still leaked from her red eye, glossing over the surface with a fine mist that blurred her vision on her right side, and she swung her gaze around, narrowing her eyes when she saw blood on the ground but did not see Maren.

Ophelia glanced into the dust, turning and surprised that she had lost such a striking opponent when the mare suddenly emerged from the dust like hellfire. Through the haze of her right eye, she saw a flash of orange and then felt the pressure of hooves colliding against her hip. Startled, the pale princess tried to move out of the way, but the force, pain and pressure all combined, forced her downward, and she grunted as she felt her skin split, unwilling to protect her any longer – even beneath the silver bands of armor. Unprepared legs gave way, slipping in the sand until her left hip hit the dust, and she scrambled for her footing, feeling injuries groan in protest. Ophelia jerked her body upward then, taking a step onto her right hip and immediately hissing in pain, unable to take her own weight as the muscles cramped under the strain.

The sun, at the apex of its cycle, bore down heavily upon their backs, and Ophelia panted for breath, lungs heaving to keep her body awake. She blinked, ridding her eye of the glossy film and stopping, looking at her opponent with a fair, even gaze. Ophelia had a heart, deep and pure, but it was buried beneath a life time of abandonment, pain and betrayal. Rarely now did she let her soul shine through the icy walls that surrounded her heart, and she offered a pained smile. “Well done,” she rewarded Maren. “Your final attack was brilliant – well planned and executed.” The pale princess breathed heavily, limping her way to the watery oasis. “You are a worthy partner, Maren. Thank you.”

[[(closing defense) (724 words in word)
-- Ophelia dodges Maren's bite but takes the full hit on her hip and falls over!


Credits: Image by Schwartze @ DA


Teaching Notes
You know honestly, I am trying really hard to find something in this post, and for the life of me, I can’t.
So instead, I will focus on the points that I think were excellent.

1. I really like your fast responses – like Maren’ s bite – which keeps the battle very fast paced
2. The way you had Maren guarded by the sand both of us had been writing as being kicked up with her mists was very clever and an excellent way to hide yourself. Great realism points!
3. I tried to find grammatical or spelling errors, but I really couldn’t. As a general rule of thumb, you should try to never end a sentence with a personal pronoun. So saying “…. This was difficult for her” is technically considered improper English. But, that’s getting nitpicky and rather ridiculous, so I am just bringing it up for your knowledge and to have something to say since your post was otherwise flawless.
4. I also think that you took the 5 damage very well and I really like how you separated your attacks into clear, concise units that were surrounded by description. That really helped me place Maren in space and in relation to Ophelia, so KUDOS THERE!
5. I’ll let the judges take on the rest, but I really have nothing I can teach. This was great !


RE: Buried by the sands of the hourglass - Official - 04-07-2015

By my verdict: OPHELIA is the winner!

OPHELIA
Realism [+4]
You had consistently good attacks, dodges, injury, and timing all throughout the fight. You also incorporated the scenery (that damn rock!) and utilized your breed/stat (using her height to stay above Maren’s wings). The little details you use, like bending to help with her shoulder stiffness, really help bring that realism up into awesomeness. I especially enjoyed the damage you took in your last post.


Emotion [+2]
Your first post has some really magnificent emotion, which did carry into your second post as you struggled with the critical miss and reflected on the Deimos fight, but it felt weaker in your third post. There was good emotion here, but I still felt myself wanting more, wanting to understand Ophelia’s motives more as the fight continued.
“Ophelia watched the way her curious feathery appendages (could she call them wings just by shape alone?)“ - lol


Prose [+3.5]
Beautifully well written all throughout.


Readability [+2]
Was mildly confused at the end of your first post about the light you were talking about, since I was familiar with Maren’s halo, but not Ophelia’s glowing horn ornament. Replacing “her” with a name would have cleared that up for me! Using names is generally more helpful than not, and costs just as much word-wise, especially when two of the same gender are fighting. I also found post three very confusing about positioning of both fighters, so please remember to really detail left, right, parallel, perpendicular etc. For instance you had Ophelia on Maren’s left side, stomping down with her right hoof on Maren’s left leg, and then you said Ophelia spun away (how, where??) and attacked Maren’s side (which one??) with Ophelia’s horn. Otherwise your posts were very readable, with few grammar errors except in post two (detailed below).

P2:
“...between them increase before the battle started...” (increased & could use a comma after started)
“...observing her bonded engage…” (his?)
“...Maren gathered strength…” (gathering)
“...Ophelia spin swiftly to the right…” (spun)
P3: really confused about positioning this whole post. Need more lefts and rights please!


Finally tally: 47+(11.5*2)= 70 68 HP

*******************************************

MAREN
Realism [-1.5]
I think that you have some excellent attacks and dodges here, and you are especially excellent at detailing and using the scenery, but in regards to timing and description your realism starts to fade and affects everything else. Although not required to use the entire post limit, it can help if you have extra words left, to read back through and thoroughly explain yourself. Judges do not read summaries, so everything must be clear in the post body, and that’s where I struggled the most with your posts.

In your first post, for instance, your dodge in and of itself was good, however I’m not sure how dodging to your left, the same side Ophelia is attacking on, would evade the attack? Additionally, Maren is suddenly half rearing, but you don’t say how she goes into it and from which point she goes into it. You also forgot to mention Maren’s reaction to the blinding light on Ophelia’s horn which Ophelia specifically mentioned as being a method to stave off immediate counterattacks from Maren. Good buck attack and use of sand though!

In your second post, you mention Maren completing a U-turn, but I am clueless as to what u-turn you’re referring to as I don’t see one previously mentioned. You also use a lot of attacks in this post, which although there is no limit, the more you use the more difficult it is to explain them in regards to timing and positioning. For instance, your ram/charge attack on Ophelia backtracks her post a lot and makes it difficult with the timing of the thread. You did respond really well to Ophelia’s magic though, and great mentions again of the sand and Ophelia’s greater agility. You take Ophelia’s bite, and your bite-counter attack works well enough with timing, but then it gets really sticky here.
Ophelia has greater speed and agility, she mentions in her post that she pivots on her haunches, keeping them at Maren for her buck attack, which we can assume happens quickly based on the pacing of these attacks and Ophelia’s speed. Yet you describe Maren as having the time to also turn (never really mention a turn), bucking out at Ophelia’s head (is this before Ophelia turns? If not her head would be too far away) and then to also turn around and rear at Ophelia’s hind end, which is when/where you take Ophelia’s buck attack to your leg (you never say if it’s your hind or front leg). That is just way too much for Maren to be doing at once, especially given the moment being described and your opponent’s stats. You go on to say Maren pulls up alongside Ophelia, but I’m not sure how you do that if Maren was just behind her (which she must have been if Maren was hit by Ophelia’s buck and for your rear to strike Ophelia’s hocks), not which side (left, right?) Maren is on. That in and of itself is a lot happening, but you go on to also do a bodyslam and try and poke Ophelia’s eye with your wings. Additionally, for a damage roll of 6, your injuries were far too light. Since a damage roll of 6 is the maximum, I definitely expect blood if not a fall/twist/sprain/near-break/lameness/useless leg etc.

Post 3 is an improvement though! You did a great job mentioning an injury sustained earlier in this fight, and you take Ophelia’s stomp with realism and good injury/damage. Your bite at Ophelia’s neck would have been improved with more detail as to your positions - I can assume you are on ophelia’s right side, and this biting the right side of her neck, since Ophelia used her right front on maren’s left front leg, but I shouldn’t have to make assumptions, it should be very clear for me. Similarly the slice that Maren takes, is it left or right? Your end with a really strong attack and great strategy with your magic there.


Emotion [+1]
Although at times I was given glimpses of how Maren felt, the posts were mostly mechanical with description of actions and setting, rather than feelings, motives, and thoughts. I want to feel like I am the character itself during a fight, completely engrossed by them while they struggle for victory!


Prose [+2.5]
You have some beautiful writing, especially some of your descriptions in your third post were gorgeous. You struggle a little bit with flow, your sentences and paragraphs transitioning subjects a bit too choppy for it to read really fluidly.
“The dust fell around them as if the desert was falling apart.” - gorgeous


Readability [-1]
As mentioned earlier, more description for her positioning and attacks/defenses would be very helpful - left, right, parallel, perpendicular etc. Also although there were some grammar issues detailed below, most are repeated mistakes, and minor mistakes, so given that English isn’t your first language you did really well!

P1
“Blue. It was perfect. Pretty, even.” (fragment)
“...in the suns brightness between her eyes…” (sun’s)
“God damn., sure to be cursing” (period or comma, not both)
“....either.", she ….” (either,” she - punctuation goes inside speech quotes)
“Keeping herself steady, in balance like a leaf, by spreading her wings.” (fragment)

P2:
“She had hesitated, and now she had left them even where she'd been supposed to take the lead.” (This sentence is confusing to me. What had she left? What lead? Rephrase to even when she was supposed to take the lead?)
“Immediately after the sheer action, she had spread her wings.” (I think you mean to imply sheer amount of action, but the way you use sheer here makes it read more like the thin fabric type of sheer.)
“In the little time that was stretched between these attacks, Ophelia had managed to stumble over a rock, which had lain buried underneath the sand. Coming down on her front she kicked out her back hooves, only to throw up sand instead of the target she had been meaning to hit.” (I take it you’re talking about Maren’s attack in the second sentence, but as you only use “her” and Ophelia was the only name used prior, it reads as if it’s about Ophelia. Choppy flow here.)
“By all their continuing moving around…” (continued)
“...from the absent of motion…” (absence)
“...let the girls filthy…” (girl’s)
“...where the unicorns head was supposed…” (unicorn’s)
“...hind-hocks…” (hocks are only part of the hind legs, so the hind part is unnecessary to include)
“...around; finishing…” (comma rather than semi-colon)
“...body against hers…” (her’s)
“...from a distant would…” (distance)

P3:
“...away to swiftly…” (too)
“...still overpowered hers” (her’s)


Finally tally: 41.5+(1*2)= 43.5 HP