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the winds of winter [vol vs toulouse] - Printable Version

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the winds of winter [vol vs toulouse] - Volterra - 11-25-2016


V O L T E R R A
IF IT FEELS GOOD, TASTES GOOD, IT MUST BE MINE
HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

He adores winter. The frigid temperatures, the unpredictable weather, the blanket of white that covers the land and turns it into a colourless version of itself - he loves it all. Whereas he spends the summer sweating and heaving, thirsty and fly-ridden and disgusting, he spends the winter in high spirits, with his flesh stung pleasantly with the chill and his muscles thrumming with unspent energy.

Frostfall is his favourite time to fight. When the cold air stings his lungs and the snow lashes against his skin, he's in his element. After almost two years of constant fighting, Volterra feels like he is well on the way to becoming the war machine he always dreamed of. His muscles are hardened from dozens of battles, his limbs stocky and powerful, his stamina heightened and his strength formidable. When he is on the battlefield, he is the Indomitable. But there's always more. He can always become stronger, faster, better. There is no excuse for him to ever rest on his laurels, to grow fat and lazy and satisfied with what he is. He will never settle when he can become greater.

It's early evening when the leviathan comes to the Steppe. Thick snow blankets the area and each step is arduous, but Volterra gets a grim satisfaction from the aching tug on his legs and the sharp shock of cold air in his chest. The dragons love the snow too, and their spirits are high as they dive into deep white drifts with childlike squeals of joy. Sometimes they emerge with lemmings in their mouths, pulled from hibernation by the swift jaws of death.

It isn't long before the stallion halts in an unremarkable section of white wasteland, sunk up to his hocks in snow. In front of him, Vadir gives a joyous scream and uses her fire breath to blast away a roughly circular thirty foot patch of snow, exposing the brown ground beneath like an open wound. Curiously Volterra steps forwards, and almost immediately his foot slips ominously on the black ice that hides beneath. With a grim nod, he decides that this will be his battlefield; the slippery ice will make for an interesting challenge, and the snow that circles his makeshift arena will act as a buffer should one of the combatants stray outside it.

Volterra lifts his mammoth head and screams for an opponent, lashing his tail excitedly against his flanks as he waits.

___________________

Teaching spar for @Toulouse ! Set in the Frostbreath Steppe in a gentle snowstorm. Vadir has cleared a section of snow with her fire for them to fight on, but there's some lingering black ice on the dirt. Feel free to have the first attack! :D

0/3 - 402 words

image credits



RE: the winds of winter [vol vs toulouse] - Toulouse - 11-25-2016

Toulouse
tinker tailor soldier sailor rich man poor man beggar man thief.

Any fight in Helovia would be unmatched to the horrors witnessed in Dorobo, or the bonze pyramids you’d find burning in T’det. The smoke, the ash, the burning among the snow and ice and fire unnaturally mixed. Violence was all too common to the palomino even though it was never exhibited in his stride, his countenance, or even the way her help his newly-crowned cranium.
No, Toulouse did not appear as the kind to have seen true cruelty or turmoil - in fact he exhibited the traits of a boy who had perhaps been sheltered from such soul-scarring things. The parseltongue walked slowly, never with an urgency and always much too straight. He was a man who bore only the scars of a vicious castration and none of battle, and did not walk with a limp or a crippled back like seasoned warriors might.

Upon hearing the contender’s cry, Toulouse found it hard to resist. This pearlescent man was the owner of a new identity and a new reason to prove himself; there would be no harm in a friendly spar to get his blood pumping and a good tune up? A wrestle with a like-minded mutt was what the gelding hoped for at least when his ascent towards the call began.

The flaxen contender stepped fourth, his careful footfalls taking him off the snow and onto the cleared earth beneath. Noting the black ice blow his feet, Toulouse eyed his competitor with a twist in his maw, smiling ever to slightly at the sanguine-eyed brute. His opponent was a similar height, though proudly boasted an abundance of natural muscle - something Toulouse’s genetics had not granted him. However, swiftness and natural endurance was on the akhal’s side perhaps. The pale one was narrow and magnificently slender compared to the bulk of the other contestant.

Then was the matter of the weather.
Having spent the better part of his life slipping over yellow fields of rye, snow and black ice, Toulouse was quite in his element here. Glancing over the earth for higher areas where he might find some traction, then inspecting the lowest and most slippery planes in the arena, the gelded one took note of each. In reality, he was most likely no match for the beast who stood before him, but he couldn’t back out now.
“Sir” The pale one bellowed, bowing to his opponent from across the arena. It was possibly out of mockery that Toulouse did this, but certainly not out of respect. He straightened, releasing his body from the less-than-flattering position of a bow and bellowed another hoot at the challenger.
“Keen to dirty your hooves are you?”
As he spoke this Toulouse took his right leg and threw it in a downwards strike, stomping his hoof with deadly force into the earth and the ice below it. The cracks that resonated below it caused him to grin zealously as he bowed his crown to brace for an attack, though would try his absolute hardest to slink out or under the black beast when the time came.


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0/3 - 517 words.
nope u go first im scared LMAO never sparred before!!!
summary; Toulou approaches, bows to vol and then braces for the first attack by lowering his horns! (he recently aquired a set of Jacobs sheep horns!)




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RE: the winds of winter [vol vs toulouse] - Volterra - 11-27-2016


V O L T E R R A
IF IT FEELS GOOD, TASTES GOOD, IT MUST BE MINE
HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

The gentle snowfall has already sprinkled a white layer upon the Indomitable's blackened flesh by the time his opponent approaches. The dragons notice the stranger first, as they almost always do, and Volterra narrows his eyes to peer through the snowflakes at this potential contender.

The first thing that hits him is the stranger's smell. Volterra relies on his nose for a multitude of things, from ascertaining the receptiveness of a mare to determining the territorial boundaries of a stallion. This sheep-horned palomino does not possess the heady stench of testosterone, but nor does he exude the heavenly aroma of womanhood. He is....neither. The leviathan's brow furrows as he scrutinises his pale opponent, and he is forcibly reminded of his battle with Kiuaji, when the feminine male's wiles made Volterra's body react in ways that disgusted him. Unlike Kiuaji, this flaxen stranger does not swing his hips and act like a woman, which leads the beast to assume that he is male. However, he cannot possibly be all-male, because his scent betrays him. He is...lacking something.

Sir. Something about the bow that follows the horned one's greeting makes Volterra think that this faux-respect is not entirely genuine, and his ears flicker back suspiciously. "Always," he growls in response to the palomino's question. Forcing aside his musings on the other's gender, Volterra instead begins to scrutinise him as an opponent. They are similar in height, with the Indomitable just slightly taller, and there's little competition for sheer muscle tone. A simple assessment of the palomino convinces Volterra that he edges almost every asset, although his opponent's lean figure suggests he possesses superior stamina. This may play into things towards the end of the fight, as trying not to fall over is going to take its toll on the leviathan's reserves of strength.

He notes the man's magnificent set of horns, and knows he must be careful to avoid them. Cracks spasm outwards from his foe's hoof as he stomps it down upon the ice, and it serves as another stark reminder to Volterra that he will have to be careful upon his feet. One slip and it could twist the fight in his opponent's favour, despite the fact that the leviathan should have the ability to win. He takes nothing for granted on the battlefield - he knows the perils, not to mention the cruel quirks of fate that can sometimes push David to fell Goliath.

The dragons screech and howl above, itching to be involved. Volterra demands that they stay away for now, however. He does not like using them in spars, as he believes in the strength of his body rather than the united power of his assets.

With a savage war-growl, the blackened beast throws himself forwards. Blood immediately begins to pound through his system, threading strength through his muscles and determination through his mind; when he's in the arena, he feels truly alive. Despite the frigid temperatures, a thin sweat begins to glimmer upon the hardened muscles of his monolithic body, a frenetic sheen of excitement that can only be rivaled by the precious few seconds before he mounts a mare. When he's fighting, he is truly the Indomitable. When he's drawing blood or having it forcibly pulled from his own veins, he's more of a man than at any other point in his life.

He loves it. He thrives off it. He is the warlord, the soldier, the dragon-king. His mind is a twisting mass of frantic thoughts and insatiable desire for victory, and it's these delightful things that provide fuel for the fire of his blows.

The stallion attempts to approach his opponent head-on, his eyes gleaming with savage concentration and his hooves splayed further apart than usual to try and give him a greater surface area. He wants to cause as little damage to the ice as possible; the cracks could prove deadly. Utilising his superior strength, the black colossus attempts to slam his chest into the chest of his opponent, trying to make Toulouse skid backwards and hopefully lose his balance.

Simultaneously, his right foreleg lifts then stomps downwards, trying to scrape the tip of his hoof down the front of the palomino's left foreleg from knee to fetlock. He hopes to create a beautifully painful array of scrapes and bruises, not enough to break the bone but hopefully enough to cause exquisite agony. Volterra also contemplates a bite, his favourite move, but he does not want to risk impaling himself on those lowered horns. So he resists, keeping his jaws firmly tucked away like a sheathed sword.

___________________

Teaching spar for @Toulouse ! And you got Vol's 500th post whooo -confetti-

1/3 - 765 words

image credits


Teaching notes

I'll give you proper notes after your first attack post, but here's some quick things to bear in mind before we start:

- We both get three posts each, and I'll also have a closing defense because I'm attacking first.

- I'll go more into depth regarding how the dice roll system works in my next post, but here is where you'll find the dice rolls for our fight. After my post, a dice will be rolled to decide whether Vol's attacks hit - it'll also determine the level of damage you need to take if it does hit. The level of damage ranges from a 1 dice roll to a 6, with a higher roll meaning higher damage.

- When you're attacking, be sure to use words like 'attempted' and 'tried' etc, to avoid any deductions for GM/PP.

- If you've got any questions on anything, feel free to PM me or ask below your post :D As I say, the rest of my notes will be more in-depth, this was just a quick couple of reminders!


RE: the winds of winter [vol vs toulouse] - Toulouse - 12-15-2016

Toulouse


Perhaps the snake need not reach for a crystal ball to predict the outcome of this scuffle. The beast that stood across the cleared plane glared with a bloodlust not even the vampire held in his own sight givers and held a stance Toulouse had only observed in trained warriors, one that expressed sheer prowess and indomitable strength. You mustn’t mistake the serpent’s admiration for complacency however; pay attention and note that the geldings torn flanks quiver and his nostrils scrunch with fear.

The boney structure that was Toulouse watched with a half-smile, dull eyes quaked and watered as he noted his opponents size again…and again.
This beast’s greatest attribute could contribute to a downfall - Toulouse knew all too well that it was the small and compact that could slink with speed and prance with precision without wasting eons of energy. Perhaps a few strikes of this mighty brutes hoof would see him tuckered out? The desert born blood that resided in the T’detan was a different story, one that perhaps needed no explanation. As if forged from fire the Akhal would always maintain fascinating endurance and the same could be said of the other components of his breed. It remained; Toulouse could dally for much longer than Goliath, not spending half as much of that precious stamina that resided in his blood bank.

The snakes thoughts crossed to his earlier attitude, one that would see him stride towards the dark one and strike him right in the flank. Why did he cower now that the time had come to fight? On the threshold of an energising battle was he not, this could be fun!
It was the prospect of losing that had finally found his previously senseless mind. How Toulouse hated to lose, and how he purely despaired over humiliation. One thing was for sure; The serpent refused to be embarrassed, he refused to be struck down on conniving terms or by brute force.
Not again.  Not ever again.

It all began too soon, yet too late. His opponent began a head on charge, feet splayed over the invisible ice as he commanded the ground to his side. Toulouse hardly knew how to respond other than to make himself an even smaller target, keeling back on his own two hocks and spreading his front legs for impact. Low to the ground and spread out there would be an easy opportunity for the warrior to ram him, but worse come to worse he would merely slide right away from him. Knocked like a hockey puck the palomino was sent a small number of yards away, sharp hooves creating an awful scraping noise on the glass-like ice as he skidded. Next came the awful scraping strike of the Indomitable’s hoof, leaving a minimal amount of blood but a soreness in his knee especially. The attack though, it did not cause a cry of pain or any yelp… it caused the gilded one to laugh. He didn’t enjoy it, He was reasonable frightened if anything, yet he laughed.

Already Toulouse’s thoughts were past defence. What would the attack of his own be? How could he keep what he assumed to be an inevitable defeat less brutal? And so he slinked away from the black one and spoke. Perhaps it was to distract him, confuse him even, but mainly he just didn’t want this stag to walk away with such a wonderful victory.
“Might you be so kind as to share what you know about fighting, sir?” The palomino queried. “I could use some instruction.”

It was not a moment later that the gelding took a leap forwards, front hooves landing one after the other parallel to those of his opponent. Without a second passing the brute struck his sharp hooves upwards in an attempt to totally envelop the equine’s neck  and hold him against his jaws as if he were the prey he commonly feasted on. Without any further hesitation the vampire let his hidden weapons attempt the damage. Two wolf-like fangs that replaced his canines were always hidden in his gums, but no longer. Opening his jaws as wide as they could the gilded gelding attempted to throttle the stag with his own teeth and blade-like fangs, hoping that it would pierce the delicate veins that resided in his throat. Leaning over the brute and clamping at his trachea; it was not an easy position to maintain.

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1/3 - 741 words.
Okay! ★ Toulou doesn't want to lose lmao so he wants Vol to teach him as they fight to make losing less bad. You can decide whether Vol does or just gets on with fighting him!
had to change my table bc the other one I don't have saved and i cant edit the post obvs so :SSSS I hate changing tables lmao it looks so silly.
summary; Toulouse braces in the ice but takes Vols attack and skids, then speaks to him and leaps over to try to bite his trachea/throat.





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RE: the winds of winter [vol vs toulouse] - Volterra - 12-30-2016


V O L T E R R A
IF IT FEELS GOOD, TASTES GOOD, IT MUST BE MINE
HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

They collide, and Volterra immediately locks his powerful limbs to stop himself skidding forwards in the aftermath of his attack. His chest aches a tad from the impact but he hopes it's nothing compared to what he intended to inflict upon the palomino - the palomino who is now laughing, as though the Indomitable's strike to his leg is nothing more than a fly bite. The leviathan's ears pin, irritation and the first ebbings of dangerous anger beginning to brew beneath the surface.

His muscles tense and ripple as he warily watches the other male, anticipating an instant retaliation. When one isn't forthcoming, he narrows his eyes, questioning the palomino's game. It is rare that Volterra is surprised on the battlefield, but this odd-smelling creature manages it with one sentence, one request - teach me. For a moment, the Indomitable is stunned into frozen silence, his legs braced against the ice and his face twisted into an expression of comical bewilderment. He is asking for advice? During a spar? What the fuck did he answer the call for if he doesn't know how to fight?! Does he expect Volterra to hold his hand, kiss his wounds and soften his own attacks in order to educate the palomino as he would one of his own children?

Before the stallion can reply, his opponent strikes like a snake. The gelding's hooves reach up, not to kick Volterra but to try and hold him as though in a lover's embrace....the behemoth hisses, recoils, causing the limbs to just miss their mark. He isn't so lucky with the bite, however, as the palomino's lips unfurl and his teeth sink into the bottom of Volterra's thick neck, immediately tearing through the flesh and barely avoiding the hard muscle below. Pain explodes through the beast's brain, along with a healthy dose of confusion and frustrated displeasure - how can the teeth have carved through his flesh so easily? Horse teeth are blunt, created to bruise, not slice. Volterra has been nipped at by predators before, and he can only liken the gelding's bite to that of a wolf; fanged, hard, agonising.

Unnatural.

Still baffled by the blow, the leviathan staggers backwards, his hooves skidding on the ice but just managing to snatch purchase. Blood trickles in fountains from the moderately deep cut to his neck, twin pinpricks that issue copious amounts of crimson down to the white ground below. Toulouse's attack thankfully missed any arteries, but the pain is still exquisite, although the frigid air numbs it somewhat; Volterra's ears are lost in the storm of his mane as his mind still desperately tries to compute what he's just been subjected to. "Evidently you don't need educating," he snarls, eyes flashing at the gelding's deviousness. To lull Volterra into thinking that he didn't know what he was doing, then to strike like a nightmare...so underhand!

Glaring coldly at the fangs that he now knows are lurking under those lips, the leviathan launches his body forwards again. The wound to his neck, whilst sore, does not impact his movements in any way, and he intends to repay the pain tenfold. Volterra fights on the edge, living off his adrenaline and the raw power of the rage that fuels every blow. With his tactics, Toulouse has poked the sleeping bear, so to speak. The Indomitable feels the delicious thrill of anger beginning to seep through his bloodstream, hammering a heartbeat in his ears and making his pulse race like a galloping racehorse. There's an ache in his gut, not of fear, but of pure unbridled fury. He knows this feeling well. He adores it, channels it, wields it like a sword. He is the berserker, the animal, the indomitable force, the walking fortress.

Without warning, the leviathan slams on his brakes again and launches sharply to his right. Ordinarily, Volterra's turns are slow and cumbersome given his great size, but he uses the slippery ice to his advantage as he swings his entire body in a circle until his hindquarters are hopefully facing Toulouse. Throwing his weight to his forelegs (careful to brace them widely against the ice to try and maintain his balance), the behemoth lifts his colossal bulk upwards and flails out his back hooves in a savage, powerful kick. He aims to slam both of his hind hooves like pistons into the gelding's chest, to try and further any damage from his previous attack to the same area and to hopefully cause the entire front of the male to seize up.

___________________

Teaching spar for @Toulouse !

2/3 - 753 words

image credits


Teaching notes

Spelling/grammar/prose - I couldn't see any issues here. I love how you write, your sentences are flowing and poetic and it was a joy to read!

Emotion - I love how you write Toulouse, his manipulation and slyness as well as his overall personality. There's definitely no issues on this front, and you should score highly in this section!

Attacks - I liked him using his fangs to his advantage, but the thing with him trying to wrap his forelegs around Vol's neck struck me as possibly being quite difficult to manage/unrealistic. It depends on the judge really - I personally love unique attacks like this, and some judges might agree, but others might deduct for realism. I can't really advise one way or the other as it really depends on which judge you get, but overall you described the attacks well and they were clear/concise.

You also didn't fall into the trap of overmoving, which is great! 1/2 attacks per post is plenty in my opinion, so you did well there.

Also, be careful with sentences like these:

'front hooves landing one after the other parallel to those of his opponent' and 'Leaning over the brute and clamping at his trachea; it was not an easy position to maintain'. Both haven't got mention of attempt/aimed etc, which could be construed as GM/PP. You don't want to give the judge any excuse to deduct for that, so throw in ALL the attempt words :D

Damage taken - Please feel free to slap me if you already know this, but I figured I'd go back to the very basics just to try and clear stuff up!

So, the amount of damage a character does is partly decided by their damage stat and partly decided by the dice roll for each attack post. To compare, Vol's damage stat is 8 whereas Toulouse's damage stat is 4. That basically means that Vol's attacks hurt much more, so you should take more damage from a Vol hit than I should take from a Toulouse hit of the same roll. Think of it as being hit by a normal person compared to being hit by a bodybuilder! The dice roll determines how much damage you need to take - so a 6 roll is maximum damage, 1 roll is minimum damage. You find that in the underlined part of the formula:

Character Name: Volterra
Attack Number: 1/3
Attack: 1d14 rolled for a total of: 1 + 1d2 rolled for a total of: 2 + 8
Damage: 1d6 rolled for a total of: 6 + 8

6 is the damage dice roll, 8 is Vol's damage stat. When taking damage, you need to factor in both the dice roll, and your foe's damage stat. So if Vol rolled a 3, you should take more damage than what I'd take if Toulouse rolled a 3, because Vol's attacks hurt more. The dice roll and the attacking character's damage stat are added together, so 6 + 8 = 14, which is why Toulouse took 14 points of damage.

Given this, I don't think you took enough damage given the fact Vol rolled a 6 (the highest possible damage) and given the fact he has such a high damage stat. Rolling a 6 from a character with a damage stat of 8, you really need to be taking extremely heavy injuries, perhaps even broken bones. As a basic guideline, this is what I use to determine how much damage I take:

1: Very minor bruise/cut that won't impact movement
2: Reasonably minor bruise/cut that won't impact movement
3: Quite painful bruise/cut that won't impact movement/maybe a pulled muscle
4: Moderate bruise that restricts some movement/reasonably deep cut/badly pulled muscle/sprain
5: Severe bruise that restricts movement/muscle-deep cut/maybe a very minor bone fracture/serious sprain
6: Very severe bruise that will restrict movement/severe muscle-deep cut/broken or fractured bone

I'd then tweak this depending on my opponent's damage stat (so even if Toulouse rolled a 6 in this fight, I probably wouldn't take any broken bone damage, as his damage stat is fairly low). Also notice that you need to have battle wounds affect your character throughout the fight if relevant - the judge would dock points if, for example, you fractured your hind leg then reared up to attack.

You mentioned that the chest slam hit, but only mention Toulouse being pushed backwards - realistically he'd also take some bruising to his chest from such a heavy impact, but there was none mentioned. With the strike from Vol's hoof, you say 'leaving a minimal amount of blood but a soreness in his knee especially'. This implies only a tiny wound, not one worthy of a 6 dice roll. Overall I'd say you took damage more fitting of a 2 or 3 dice roll, which isn't enough and could count against you in the final judging :c And you then had him lunge forwards, implying that his forelegs are both unharmed, whereas from a 6 hit he should have enough damage to restrict some of his movement.

Bear in mind you can also spread damage across several attacks! If I was you, for this post I'd have taken severe bruising to his chest and also had Vol's hoof gouge a deep cut into his leg/rip a tendon, impacting his movement throughout the rest of the fight. This would have been enough damage to fit the high dice roll, so definitely bear this in mind for future rolls in fights!

If you've got any questions feel free to PM/skype me or put them in your post :D

Other - You did well incorporating the ice and in mentioning their different sizes, which is great! :D Your post was really good in general, it's just the amount of damage to take that needs to be worked on. For your first spar though that's understandable!


RE: the winds of winter [vol vs toulouse] - Toulouse - 01-19-2017

Toulouse
tinker tailor soldier sailor rich man poor man beggar man thief.

The serpent was most pleased with his blow against the brute, however difficult it had been. All the while the pain delved deep within his chest from the slam he had received earlier - he could still feel it, it radiated up through his muscles and into the very structure and supports of his throat. It was terrifying how quickly his fear turned to admiration for the stallion to inflict this terrifying amount of pain upon him - was it because he solely wished he himself could do that? The power in the black one’s moves against him were truly superior to many other’s he’d battled again in his life.

The mountain of blackened fur, hair and dripping blood soon spoke. It came as thunder without brontide, deep and blocked. Toulouse almost felt like apologising to this great battle-master for wounding him so - surely he would pay greatly for making such a bold move.
"Evidently you don't need educating”
had been the words of the crow, the candescent blood flood staining the porcelain they stood upon. Toulouse’s own lung heaved in and out, pressing through his ribs against the monolithic waves of pain that tightened every inch of his chest.

The blood that fell and flooded their battleground might be perceived by some as a weakness or some disgusting bodily fluid. To Toulouse it was his source of life, and there was nothing stopping the monster from securing his gaze wantonly upon the gash he had created in his opponent’s neck. It trickled and dripped; even his ears quivered at the minute sound of the drops when they pattered upon the snow. The plasma staining his maw had already been licked up, his blank eyes remaining transfixed even as the stag took his next swing.

Toulouse had no time to react - he was frozen in lust for that beautiful sanguine drink, only knocked out of his trance-like state when the Indomitable slammed his coal black hooves once again into his chest.

Staggering to the snow and sleet below, the glassy-eyes gelding let out a howl. Completely winded, choked and shocked far beyond belief, the vampire tried to let out the air from his lungs - only he had none. Gasping desperately, this was when the message finally arrived in his brain of even more pain. A large wound now lay in the centre of his chest, muscle-deep and rippling towards his neck. Clearly he did need educating; on how to control these hideous trances he found himself in so often.

Moments passed and the stag still half-lay on the snow, feeling somewhat beaten - it was his pride more than his body, however. This was a loss he must take it seemed. Or he could try once more?
His dignity would suffer all the more were he to give up now.

With a great heave, a small cry escaping his throat, the serpent crawled to his feet. If there was any deity watching, he hoped they would preserve him just for this one attack to save what was left of his pride, his conviction, and faith. With the air in his lungs only bruising them further and the great muscle-deep gash in his chest, Toulouse knew a head-on attack was not wise at all. He would use his best asset; that of deception.

He began by limping in the direction of the stranger, the one who had beaten him to this state, albeit he did exaggerate quite drastically. He might appear mortally wounded to most - it was as he approached (if his opponent allowed him to) that he gave the slightest groan, trying to pass right under the warriors nose. It was then, hardly a moment later that Toulouse lent all his strength to his back end, leaning on his injured forelegs for only a moment as he attempted a similar move to the one just struck upon him by the tall fighter. Trying his damnedest, Toulouse attempted to strike the creature directly in the eye, the jaw, the face! Anywhere that would call immeasurable weakness. This was not over yet.

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2/3 - 684 words.
thankyou so much, i really cant thank you enough for explaining this to me so much! This has been so helpful, especially the explanation of the rolls and how each number should correspond to like a different level of damage - i had no idea how much was what until you told me!  




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RE: the winds of winter [vol vs toulouse] - Volterra - 01-24-2017


V O L T E R R A
IF IT FEELS GOOD, TASTES GOOD, IT MUST BE MINE
HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

There's something innately satisfying about the collision of hooves against flesh. He knows his attack has struck its mark and struck hard when he hears the air-rending howl of his opponent, music to the greedy ears of the hot-tempered stallion. He returns his rear hooves to the ground, crunching them into snow and ice as he rearranges himself and ensures his balance is at an optimum for the remaining length of this battle.

The Gladiator begins to pivot, using the momentum from his attack to turn and see what damage he has wrought upon the gelding. Toulouse has sprawled to the ground, evidently in some pain, and whilst the ruthless part of Volterra urges him to march forwards and complete the job, he hesitates. Perhaps there is some honour in the black beast, some semblance of mercy beating in that great, powerful chest of his. Whatever the reason, the Indomitable stays his blade for now, staring down at the fallen palomino whilst seizing the opportunity to snatch some breaths of his own during this unexpected interlude. Despite his formidable stamina, the young warlord still tires towards the end of battles, especially when fighting on such difficult ground. The chance to regain some valuable energy is not to be sniffed at.

The gelding rises, staggers towards the monolithic equine in a manner that, had it happened a few minutes ago, would have had Volterra fooled. As it is, he adheres to the once bitten (literally), quite shy motto, and pins his ears suspiciously whilst eyeing his foe with an expression akin to one he would wear if he was being approached by a marauding snake. The brute may not be the sharpest thorn in the thicket but he learns from his mistakes, and he knows he cannot trust this creature as far as he can throw him.

His wariness proves quite correct as Toulouse suddenly breaks from his injured lurch and flails his hind hooves at the leviathan's skull. Volterra is prepared for such a move thanks to his lack of trust in the smaller male, and he launches his weight backwards with a savage snarl of displeasure. The hooves whistle by just in front of his face, leaving him undamaged but incredibly pissed off by his devious foe. His desire for revenge is instantaneous; it is no longer enough that he has already caused colossal damage to the unfortunate palomino, because he wants to complete the job. He wants to bring the gelding to his knees, send him crashing to the snow once again and ensure that this time, his submission will be absolute.

After giving Toulouse's hind legs time to stop their bucking, Volterra lunges forwards and rears up. He'd tried this move against Kiuaji with painful consequences, but it is a favoured attack for the feral stallion to use against foes that he wants not just to defeat, but to humiliate. To be mounted by another man must be demeaning beyond belief, dominated in the most primal way possible using a posture reserved for mares, but this is precisely what Volterra attempts to do to Toulouse; he aims to slam the meat of his chest down hard onto Toulouse's rear end, his forelegs seeking to hook around the gelding's hips and force him to the ground under his sheer colossal weight. The mammoth man's neck arches and he attempts to pepper the palomino's lower spine with painful bites, his own weight braced carefully across his thick, muscular hind legs.

There is nothing sexual about this posture, despite the deeply erotic connotations that it carries. No, this move is purely about domination, about teaching this vampiric little bastard his place - Volterra's injured neck drips slowly to the ice, reminding him exactly why he is so determined to ensure his victory is absolute.

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Teaching spar for @Toulouse !

3/3 - 633 words

image credits


Teaching notes

Spelling/grammar/prose - Perfect, it all flowed great and I didn't see any typos, so great job :D

Emotion - Perfect, as above. I love his deviousness and Toulouse-ish-ness, and you write it really well. Definitely no issues here!

Attacks - I love bucking attacks, and you described this one well. However, my one main problem is what I said in my previous post, about needing to have your damage affect you. Toulouse has just been kicked full force in the chest hard enough to knock him over. His chest should be in absolute agony, bruised and almost impossible to move to the point where even walking is probably difficult. To then lean his full weight on his forelegs, even if only for a second, would be super difficult given his injuries and the unrealisticness of this would probably see you get a hefty points deduction D:

To add to this, he's bucking towards Vol's head, and given Vol is tall that's quite a high buck for him to manage at the best of times, let alone when his chest is so badly injured. The attack itself was fine, but be careful of things like this, especially when he's just taken two 6 damage rolls. You'd have been better off trying a bite or low foreleg kick rather than a buck that would realistically be impossible given his injuries.

Damage taken - You did really well taking the damage this time, which is fab :D The rolls in this fight have been really unlucky for you with Vol rolling two 6s and you getting a miss, but try not to get disheartened by it. It's rare that the rolls are so one-sided, and once Toulouse is buffed up a bit, they should improve. I always say not to get too disheartened if the dice are against you, because if you do the writing bit right, you can overcome a decent sized HP deficit!

BUT ANYWAY /tangent. You did well taking the full impact of the damage. Just one small thing: 'A large wound now lay in the centre of his chest, muscle-deep and rippling towards his neck'. Try and be more specific on the wound type - reading this makes me think it's a cut, which is unlikely given the blunt nature of hooves, so I'd say a bruise is more likely.

My one major gripe is Toulouse's attack, but see above for that. The damage taking itself though was good, a huge improvement :)

Other - You're doing well overall, it's just the fiddly stuff of attack and defence to work on. I'm glad my explanation helped, feel free to ask me anything else you want :D


RE: the winds of winter [vol vs toulouse] - Toulouse - 02-03-2017

Toulouse
tinker tailor soldier sailor rich man poor man beggar man thief.

A grimace now resided upon the palomino’s face, his bloody eyes searching for a trace of hope among the blood stained ice they battled upon. His jaw agape, perhaps even swinging loose, the gelding had passed right by the last thoughts he had of saving his dignity - for now he damn near fretted for his life.
The indomitable who's footfalls crunched the skeleton-like ice behind him only spurred on his will and need to stay upright upon his marble hooves. The gelding was keeling and soon began to lurch forwards and staggered a pace or two from the iron stallion, an entire blood flood now escaped his body and drenching the slush below.

Defeated was he, the Specter of the west, though he would not give in as easily as any other might.
Like a tidal wave the next attack had come - a thud upon his rump causing his teeth to grit against an uncontainable cry, and the crawling of hooves upon his already bludgeoned sides. The sheer weight of the onyx warrior was enough to make his hocks buckle, yet the bites that came with it were simply too much to bear.

Collapsing under the weight of his opponent, Toulouse let out a gruff, panting sigh of pain and exhaustion. He cared not where the Indomitable ended up so long as he was not trying to hold him up with what little strength he had left.

The gelding attempted to turn onto his side and tried to kick the deadweight from off of him should the warrior of fallen onto him. His glassy eyes searched for those of the one who stood victor, the one who had beaten not only his bronze body to a pulp, but any confidence he had left along with it.

Toulouse immediately found himself wondering if he really could just give up now. Would one final attempt to scrape back some dignity earn him a fatal blow in return? Most likely.
But how would he cope knowing there was a man out there who could vouch for this sort of weakness displayed today? Toulouse would forever refuse to be seen as weak. He had journeyed too far, seen too much and conquered too many demons to be granted such a hideous title.

So it was with a great grunt that he aimed his sharp foot, his back right hoof, and attempted to strike it right into the face of his own conquerer. A great gasp escaped his mouth as he did so, striking with most of the might he had left within him before he made an attempt to scramble to his feet - one which caused him an ineffable amount of pain, and also came incredibly close to failure. As he plunged out of the snow, for a moment he felt an overwhelming sense that he simply was not strong enough to pick himself up. Too weak to continue.

With the very last of his might the gelding pulled himself to his feet and stood before the gladiator, his legs trembling and eyelids calling for rest. He would not be struck down today, and he announced this by straightening his neck as much was was possible and raised his head high with any pride he had left. The blood dripped, the bruises flourished. Volterra had won the fight, yet no trophy would be stolen from Toulouse; his life and his dignity remained.

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3/3 - 570 words.
Thank you again! <3 I now know what I need to work on for next time!
Well done, you got some super rolls but would have smashed me anyways in the writing HAHA.
you and your freakin 50 point difference.
 




x



RE: the winds of winter [vol vs toulouse] - Volterra - 02-04-2017


V O L T E R R A
IF IT FEELS GOOD, TASTES GOOD, IT MUST BE MINE
HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

His opponent crumples beneath his weight, and a spasm of satisfaction burns its way through the leviathan's skull. To mount another man is a whole different level of domination; although there is no sexual undertone, he would be lying if there wasn't a slight twinge of something due to the primal thrill of utterly crushing another male. The gelding folds like a house of cards, and Volterra jerks himself backwards out of the way of the crumpling form of his foe. He meets the fallen one's gaze with his own victorious crimson one, holding it and reveling in it.

It would have been easy - sensible, in fact - for the palomino to submit here and now, accept the defeat and walk away. It earns a measure of begrudging respect from Volterra when, instead, the gelding lashes out a hoof towards him. There's little chance of the Indomitable escaping it; the kick strikes him squarely in the chest, momentarily knocking the wind out of him and resulting in a muffled grunt that bursts from his jaws. A perfect hoof-shape bruise forms on the onyx flesh and the leviathan forces a smirk, glad that he has a memento of this fight in addition to the unnatural fang-scars on his neck.

There is no need to attack again; the fight is won. Breathing heavily from the exertion but with eyes glowing with success, Volterra stands strong in front of his fallen foe. "You should seek a healer," he growls as the gelding staggers to his feet. The behemoth's posture holds the assured confidence of the victor, yet it makes it clear he is not going to attack again. There is no pride, no honour, to be gained in further attacking a clearly defeated opponent, so the Indomitable simply stands in the howling blizzard, a black totem of strength against the howling snowstorm.

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Teaching spar for Toulouse !

Closing defence - 308 words

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Teaching notes

Spelling/grammar/prose - I didn't notice any errors and I love the way you write. You did well in this throughout the fight, so great job!

Emotion - Likewise, I love reading Toulouse especially towards the end of the fight when his pride took a hit. You wrote him really well and he was a pleasure to read!

Attacks - I liked your attack, it was feasible and realistic considering his position and since his hindlegs are uninjured. My only gripe is that given his position and Vol's height, it would be unlikely that he would be able to kick Vol in the face - his chest would have been a more realistic target.

Damage taken - You did a good job taking the damage, and you also did well to have him stand up before the end. Ending the fight lying down can earn a 10 point deduction so it's best to stand up even if it's painful for the character!

Other - Thanks for the great fight Neverr :D And I hope it helped! You did well overall, especially in the writing/emotion part, it's purely the nitty gritty of attack and defence, but even in that you improved as the fight went on so I think it's just a matter of practice :)


RE: the winds of winter [vol vs toulouse] - Blu - 02-04-2017

20+ HP gap, Volterra defeats Toulouse.
Volterra earns 1 VP + 0.5 VP for teaching
Toulouse earns 1 EXP