the Rift


bulletproof [vol vs weaver]

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#1
THE INDOMITABLE

HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

The air shimmers, creating a mirage that tangles with the onyx warlord's mind and causes him to squint cautiously at what appears to be an inviting oasis but is, in fact, nothing but swirling dust. The heat is almost overwhelming, the sun an orange ball of fire in an eggshell-blue sky devoid of any clouds to shield Helovia's unfortunate residents from the scorching inferno. It is sweltering, making the stallion's black skin glimmer with a thin sheen of sweat and causing his mane to flop limply around his lathered neck like tangled tendrils of rope.

It is uncomfortable, bordering on the unbearable. It is the kind of weather that makes most horses crawl beneath the shade of their favourite tree and sleep away the long, excruciating hours until the moon conquers the relentless sun and offers some respite from the hellish heat. Most horses, though, are not Volterra. They are not Indomitable. They are not men forged of war, men who push their bodies to the limits and more in all manner of weathers and circumstances in their quest to become the most powerful creature to ever walk the earth. They are not men who take their suffering and wear it like armour, men who hold each scar as a trophy and see each wound through to its painful conclusion.

The road to glory is, after all, paved in blood, and Volterra's massive hooves have carried him a good distance down that particular track. That's why he ignores the mirage, despite the fact his mouth is as dry as the desert that he calls his domain, and turns instead towards the figure in the distance. That's why he hardens his resolve, tenses his muscles, and charges. That's why he turns his mind towards a potential fight rather than submitting to his desire to crawl into the shade and collapse in on himself like a house of overheated cards.

Fighting in the midday sun is bordering on lunacy, but Volterra knows that he must conquer the inferno. Given his southern desert home, there's a high likelihood that one day he'll have to fight against invaders during the heat of a Dragon's Throat summer, and he needs to ensure his body is ready. Living in the Throat has hardened him, but he still knows that he can grow harder still. His stride is a collected canter to conserve energy, unwilling to enter an all-out charge until his opponent is closer; the nearer he gets, the more he squints until he can see that she's a she. Winged, horned, magnificent; her tobiano colouring only accents her raw beauty, and the stallion feels a different kind of heat begin to blossom inside him.

"Another maniac out in the sun?" he booms to announce his presence. Volterra is still trying to get himself out of the habit of not attacking first in fights, but he just cannot bring himself to strike without prior warning; it seems cowardly, dishonourable. He seeks to approach the mare head-on, making no attempt to hide his intentions. "Care to dance?" He takes a moment to assess her properly; she's a good two hands smaller than him, and it is clear that she will be no match for his sheer brute strength. Yet her hardy build, her sturdy appearance....her endurance is undoubtedly far better than his own, meaning she should suffer less in these cruel conditions. It's in his best interests to make it a quick fight, else he expire before her eyes. The ground is hard, firm, sun-dried; if his dragons get involved he'll need to make sure Vadir keeps her fire breath to herself, else she could immolate them all. The surroundings are perfect for fighting upon, but there's an obvious threat in the form of the scorching heat - it will take its toll upon both gladiators, and Volterra knows that he'll be better off moving as little as he can once he's fully engaged his foe.

Without waiting for a response from her, the behemoth lunges. He seeks to approach her face-on, his chest thrust out like a battering ram as he attempts to slam it hard into her own chest. His intention is obvious - try to cripple her with a bruise, bully her with his weight, and perhaps even push her backwards. His jaws snap forwards, attempting to plant a hard, painful bite upon her left cheek in a brutal display of masculine dominance.

_____________

Spar for @Weaver !

Set in the Thistle Meadow. Very hot and dry, possibility of fire ;D

1/3 - 738 words

image by neverr the glorious

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]





Messages In This Thread
bulletproof [vol vs weaver] - by Volterra - 04-10-2017, 02:58 PM
RE: bulletproof [vol vs weaver] - by Weaver - 04-17-2017, 07:36 PM
RE: bulletproof [vol vs weaver] - by Volterra - 04-22-2017, 01:53 PM
RE: bulletproof [vol vs weaver] - by Weaver - 05-01-2017, 07:23 PM
RE: bulletproof [vol vs weaver] - by Volterra - 05-03-2017, 01:43 PM
RE: bulletproof [vol vs weaver] - by Weaver - 05-22-2017, 10:30 AM
RE: bulletproof [vol vs weaver] - by Volterra - 05-24-2017, 12:29 PM
RE: bulletproof [vol vs weaver] - by Blu - 05-26-2017, 08:22 AM

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