the Rift


[JUDGED] A Machine for Pigs [Ulrik]

Torleik the Bloodskald Posts: 354
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 11 HP: 66.5 | Buff: SWIFT
Irelyn :: Plain Griffin :: Molten Dagger RedGod
#1



Torleik was angry.

He had figured Ulrik was the type to care little for others, to use them for his own benefit and gain when it suited him, but he had not anticipated the engineer would take on an entire crown just to feed his own ego. Though he considered the engineer a friend of sorts, as he had given him a brief tour and explanation of the Basin and of Helovia in general, the soldier could not stand by this.

Well hidden in his cave in the Basin, Torleik had overhead the entire exchange. Ulrik's admonition of Psyche's failures had apparently been enough to push the mare too far, and much to the soldier's shock, she had simply thrown her leadership title at the engineer's feet.

A title Ulrik had taken all too hungrily.

Torleik's anger had burned as he had slipped out of his cave and taken the long route around the three, curving far to the east near the Frostbreath Steppes, his black bulk hidden behind the swells of snow, not waiting to see the final outcome of their parlay. He could not sit idly and watch a greedy exchange, watch the title of leader pass from weary hands to diabolically self-centered ones. A leader who cared only for his title, for his own power for the pure fucking thrill of it was not one Torleik would follow - not one that would ever truly lead a people.

The stallion's ire took him on a long, circuitous trot, the machinations of his mind working him into a tightly wound ball of indignant muscle. Ulrik would treat this rule like he would treat a machine. Every cog, every bolt and nut would be a stallion or mare, and each would be a part of the larger whole, never an identity. These parts would be interchangeable at the engineer's will, pieces in his grand design, his most glorious invention: a court of controlled subjects.

No. He would not stand for it. Tossing his head and spinning on his planted back hooves, the rabicano stallion returned from whence he came in a far more direct route, finding the shaggy beast of a unicorn alone, the others gone.

"ULRIK!" the blue-eyed demon bellowed, his snarl harsh. Torleik stayed some feet away from him, level with his left flank. "You are not fit to lead the Basin," he stated bluntly, glacial eyes narrowing. "I demand you step down, now!"

@[Ulrik]


[OOC: I apologize now if I do this horribly. This is my first go, and I figure a trial by fire is best.]


TORLEIK

"It make me sick that it's hard to distinguish an honest leader who preaches a cause that's not made, and not based on the profit you'll receive from telling the world. What line divides you from the sinners who sow without growing believers? You point and you judge, forgetting that their faith is molded by your name."



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No man is an island.
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Please tag me in all posts! Thank you!

Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed Tamme
#2



Ulrik had not been a Lord for more than a few hours, but the power had certainly not gone to his head. In all honesty, he felt painfully and miserably distracted from his true love: machinery. He could feel the magic in his blood weaving again, turning him on, making him want to create mechanical mirrors of nature. The title he was awarded fit him more aptly than his current rank, and the Engineer thought on what he needed to do and how best to do it.

And let me tell you, thinking about others as a whole in a herd was not his strong suit. The stallion was struggling.

Torleik was right about a few things though, he did see everyone as cogs in the machine - little, unique pieces that needed to be shoved together in just the right way to work. Seeing them as anything else would require an emotional connection that was far beyond his realm of understanding. Perhaps this view was what the Basin needed - someone who cared less about feelings and more about getting shit done. That was an egotistical thought, of course, but knowing no other way to live, Ulrik thought that it would be welcomed after Psyche's utter failure.

The demon-horned stallion approached, and Ulrik's mad eyes glinted at him curiously. A grimace tightened his lips into a line when his name was barked from that deep voice. Oh that ground all the way down under his hide, being yelled at like a mother would to her child. The stallion blinked, raising a single, dark brow from one of his tawny eyes.

What came out of Torleik's mouth was at least a welcome bluntness. Ulrik respected the fact that this charcoal beast of runes has the balls to tell him off, even though he was bloody wrong...

Seemingly unmoved, the Engineer smiled only just a little. "If I am so unfit then why was I handed the crown?" he asked, his question pointed as he narrowed his eyes. "I have no intentions of leading for more than a day - you will not suffer your doubts in me for long," the stallion replied thickly, his expression sobering. He was honest when he had told Torleik that politics undid him; he had better things to do. "Anything else....? If it's a fight you want, by all means..." he trailed, gracefully bowing in mocking pleasantries.


[Yay! redgod battle]



BRINGING YOU ANOTHER DISTURBING CREATION
from the mind of one sick animal who can't tell the difference

Credits

Torleik the Bloodskald Posts: 354
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 11 HP: 66.5 | Buff: SWIFT
Irelyn :: Plain Griffin :: Molten Dagger RedGod
#3


He expected more of a reaction from Ulrik, yet he was not surprised that the engineer seemed to care little for his challenge. Torleik listened to the dark stallion's words and snorted. "You were handed the crown because Psyche had apparently reached her fill of your bitching at her," he replied. "And why not give it to the one who complains the loudest to see if they can do better? It had little to do with your fitness to rule."

Torleik's words were not cutting, nor bitter: they were factual and flat. Ulrik had been tossed the crown because Psyche was fed up with the shaggy beast berating her for her failure. She charged him to do better, then, if he was so dissatisfied. That was all. The mechanically minded unicorn's next words, however, gave the dual-horned demon a sense of dread. If Ulrik was only planning on ruling a single day...

Deimos. No.

An even worse prospect in the foreigner's mind was The Reaper. Deimos was the only other present at Psyche's abdication and Deimos was mad. Torleik entertained no hope that the deadly male was not power hungry and egotistical. Son of a bitch, Ulrik, Torleik thought angrily. At least Ulrik was a man who would rule on efficiency, productivity and a hard line - but handing the crown to Deimos?

"You would make a poor ruler, but Deimos will become a tyrant," Torleik snarled, spreading his feet a little wider in preparation. "The day is not over yet, and you are still lord. I challenge you, then, for your title, Ulrik." The rabicano stallion raised his neck and stood taller, looking for just a fraction of a moment like a proud leader should. "If you are half the man I believe you to be, you will accept."


[Ballsy Torleik is ballsy!]


TORLEIK

"Lower me down under glorious green. Eternity waits on a broken machine. Exit the soul in a vibrant white, leaving the shell in the dead of night."



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No man is an island.
Pixel by: Tamme :D


Please tag me in all posts! Thank you!

Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed Tamme
#4



[[Battle starts, Aurora Basin, midday with full sun in the season of birdsong]]


The engineer flashed his tail beneath the bright light of the sun reflecting off of the snow, and he snorted a breath of white frost. Ulrik sighed a little petulantly when Torleik told him that the only reason Psyche gave up her title was because he "bitched" at her too much. "I would not expect wisdom to come from the lips of one who just arrived," Ulrik snapped pointedly, his bronze gaze glaring at Torleik in irritation. "Do you truly want a leader who spits her crown at the hooves of the first stallion to challenge her choices? Do you want a ruler to lead you into the oblivion of apathy and failure?" The Engineer snorted and stomped a hoof.

No shit he was unfit to rule. Ulrik explained his plans, and the stallion still had the gall to challenge him, and call out Deimos.

Deimos? A Tyrant? The gray stallion had not spoken but a few words! Ulrik's bronze expression hardened and his lips curled back in a sneer. "You are as ignorant as you are brave," the Engineer hissed tightly. "You, whom we invited into our home, myself and Deimos! Was it not we who invited you from the wandering in the Threshold. Was it not we who showed you the way? Was it not we who gave you refuge among our caves?" Ulrik's voice, normally graveled and thick rose to a new, furious pitch, having noticed that Torleik had emerged from one such opening in the mountains.

"You do not know a leader until he's lead, and Deimos had held the crown for less than a day. The same Deimos who gave you a home. I care not that you challenge me. I am unfit to rule, though I wish to make some adjustments before I step down," he murmured, his mad mind getting sidetracked. Ulrik's leonine tail flashed behind him with the rhythm of a cobra, and he nodded once, sternly. "I accept your challenge then, not to keep my place, but to ensure that Deimos keeps his." The hope Ulrik had in this herd lived with Deimos and Deimos alone.

The Engineer closed his eyes and breathed, blue prints and plans running behind his eyes in nanoseconds. As if summoned by a silent command, the once corrupted metal wolf rose from the snow, red, soulless eyes flickering on. Mechanical movement brought the machine closer and Ulrik's bronze eyes opened, displaying an entirely different, insane creature within. Kirchoff, the living, breathing babe of a hellhound, strode forward, his adolescent body now taking some form. The pup had grown some, though his paws were still much too large for his body, and his strange whitish eyes seemed to almost glow.

Ulrik, now justly armed with companion and magical creation, took stock of his opponent. They were almost evenly matched, though the engineer was built leaner and possessed cloven hooves. Each of them had two horns, but positioned differently along their skulls, but Ulrik had no fear. The stallion approached slowly, neck arched and nostrils flaring as he sized up his opponent, striking out with his foreleg in a warning gesture, hoof hitting the snow and spraying the ice outward. His muscular hips sidled almost sideways as he came closer, hocks snapping with action, prepared to dance if they were needed, and he tilted his horn toward his opponent's throat. The crazed engineer was willing to kill, even though the death of his own blood would be a tragedy.

Both the mechanical wolf and Kirchoff began to circle around the pair, if they were able, ready to attack from the opposite direction of Ulrik's focus as a tactical advantage. "Be safe, runt..." Ulrik muttered in his head to Kirchoff. Much to his chagrin, the pup had found a corner of his heart that still functioned.The hellhound merely rolled his eyes and snorted before summarily ignoring his brutish master, gaze focusing on Torleik now in a predatory way.

Finally, after moments of tension and Ulrik's physical warnings, the black and bronze stallion leaped forward, hind legs acting as a spring and toes splaying as he moved. The stallion curved his body to the right, dipping his arched neck and swinging his head to try and cut Torleik from the middle of his chest, around and up his shoulder if possible. His forelegs hit the ground a second later followed by his hind hooves which then bore his weight as he aimed to reach over Torleik's back and bite along the tender flesh of his opponent's spine, ivory fangs bared.



[[(761 words) | (1/4) | Magic use to revive his metal wolf
Ulrik has bravado as he approaches and strikes out without aiming at Torleik
Ulrik leaps forward, curves to the right and tries to cut Torleik with his horn
Once landed, he goes into a half-rear to try and bite Torleik along his spine]]



BRINGING YOU ANOTHER DISTURBING CREATION
from the mind of one sick animal who can't tell the difference

Credits

Torleik the Bloodskald Posts: 354
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 11 HP: 66.5 | Buff: SWIFT
Irelyn :: Plain Griffin :: Molten Dagger RedGod
#5



He was certainly new to this land, but that did not make its inhabitants any less bound to the cyclical and inescapably similar patterns of behavior that all beings exhibited regardless of time and place. Torleik’s glacial eyes met Ulrik’s glare coolly, unaffected by the snapped response. “I never claimed Psyche was an effective leader. I cannot make a decision – I know nothing of her rule,” he grunted in response, attempting, despite himself, to show that he was not an ignorant fool: Torleik knew he was uninformed about much of this place and the machinations of its political engines.

A snort escaped Torleik’s nares and he lifted his head. “Invited into your home?” he said with a hint of derision that was just honed enough to gouge beneath the skin. “A refuge? You invited me to learn, to follow – and for that I am grateful! But Deimos, no – he conscripted me! I would not be welcome here if I did not have something to give, something that half-shade of a horse could use,” Torleik snarled. He despised being used – and that was why he could not let Deimos rule. A leader needed to understand ruling was equal parts strength and violence paired with mercy and compassion. Torleik had no faith that Deimos truly understood the latter two traits in any form or fashion.

It pained him that he was doing this, that he felt compelled beyond resistance to challenge the one single fucking friend he had in this place. Those who resided here were either mentally or emotionally broken – or some fucked up combination of the two. Where was the sense of community? The emphasis on family? On loyalty? He was removed from his thoughts when Ulrik’s stillness suddenly birthed a mechanical monster from the snow, red eyes ablaze. A shudder he tried to repress still rippled through his skin and Torleik took stock of his footing, making sure it was secure.

And then he saw Kirchoff.

A truly pained light blazed from Torleik’s eyes as he regarded the hellhound’s approach. “Kirchoff…” he said, his voice sounding strangled. “Please…” the stallion trailed. What could he say? He had played with this hound as a furry little pup, frolicked with him and been amused by his flailing, energetic antics. His soft spot for youngling animals had firmly placed Kirchoff in his heart, and Torleik loved the Engineer’s companion with the warmth and purity of love for one’s own family.

Now even Kirchoff was aligned against him. Was doing the right thing worth this? The rock on which his resolve had been firmly seated was beginning to erode. This battle could not be fought and won while he still felt, so the rabicano stallion locked his emotions tightly away and prayed Kirchoff’s participation in this battle would not destroy the walls he hastily constructed. So it was that the shift in Ulrik’s eyes was met with an equally cold and dead stare, Torleik unmoved by the change.

The fiery maw of battle was set ablaze by the demons in men’s souls and the machine of war put into motion by their mortal forms.

It had begun.

Torleik’s eyes roved over Ulrik’s body, taking in his horns set one atop the other, his cloven hooves and his more lithe form. The Engineer would likely be more agile, but his attacks would be more confined to the midline of his body. Both the mechanical wolf and the hellhound began to circle him and Torleik’s tail swished in agitation, a foreleg smashing to the ground in response to Ulrik’s warning gestures.

Come for me, then, you bastard.

The mad Engineer responded as if obedient to the order, springing forward and driving his horns towards Torleik’s chest. As he had anticipated, the black and bronze stallion was quick, and ignorance of a new opponent’s battle habits put Torleik just a split-second behind. This did not worry him overmuch; he was used to battle and the wounds it brought. Keeping his back legs mostly stationary, the bearded stallion pushed off with his forelegs, pivoting and angling his body to the left, away from Ulrik’s initial horn attack. The tip of the Engineer’s cranial weapon caught his shoulder and Torleik grunted as his flesh was torn with both motion and blunt force impact.

As soon as his front hooves hit the snow his wounded shoulder snarled in pain. He gathered his back legs in a small hop to the left, then pushed off the selfsame haunches, angled back in the direction he had come, dropping his head and throwing it even more to the right so as to intersect his attacker in as perpendicular a motion as he could manage. He intended to catch Ulrik’s unprotected and vulnerable underbelly with his horns while the Engineer half-reared, though this attack sacrificed a measured defense against Ulrik’s bite.



[[(WC: 807) | (1/4) | No magic. Only feels.
Torleik is sad but determined to see this through, win or lose.
He takes damage from Ulrik's horn attack on his right shoulder, localized blunt force trauma and ripped skin; mild trauma to underlying muscle.
As Ulrik goes into his half-rear to bite Torleik's spine, Torleik mirrors Ulrik's first attack and tries to lunge and stab Ulrik's unprotected belly with his horns.
As that may alter Ulrik's bite attack, the bite attack will be addressed next post. <--- I hope that's acceptable. Still mostly herp derping my way through this whole battle thing. -_-]]



TORLEIK

"Raise your glass to death, not one second left! Wake the lifeless, die to fight this; stand beside me, storm the gates of hell!"



[Image: 531c0b471919e]

No man is an island.
Pixel by: Tamme :D


Please tag me in all posts! Thank you!

Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed Tamme
#6



Ulrik ground his teeth, the sound squeaky oddly from underneath his muscular jaws. He chose not to further ridicule the stallion for his lack of knowledge about the unicorn's thick history here. Even with this challenge and slight to his temporary rule, the engineer had no qualms with Torleik. He did not fault the demon-horned male for believing in his own heart and choosing to take action - in fact that was far better than sitting idly by and groaning life away. Torleik was doing exactly what Ulrik had done; he was expressing discontent and taking action to fix it the way he wanted to see it fixed.

Nothing wrong with that.

The stallion snorted. "A herd does not operate without each member contributing to the greater good," he growled in response. "If you want a different job, just ask, otherwise, your blood is worth just as much as anyone else. Deimos is the general, the leader of the warriors. He demands just as much of you as he does himself, so I would give that little bite of information a chew..." he trailed, grunting. Ulrik would fight this stallion, for to let him go back on his word now would only insult his brethren. The stallion rose his metal creation from its grave and Ulrik watched curiously as he pleaded to his companion.

Kirchoff's eyes danced between Torleik and Ulrik, snorting slightly. The adolescent was still to young to fully understand words, but the tone was meaningful. "I think you have an admirer," he heard his stupid, beastly horse say in his head. Kirchoff liked the stallion well enough, but Ulrik was mentally handicapped. Did the one with the strange horns not know this? He had to help get Ulrik out of his own disasters; the pathetic brute would probably die of idiocy. Unfortunately, Kirchoff did not know the words to relay this message. Instead, he laid down in the snow, watching, warning.

"What, you're not going to help me?" Ulrik asked, amused. The emotion he received back told him that Kirchoff would only help when needed, but Ulrik did not mind. Better that the kid not get injured before he had a chance to grow. Thus, Ulrik picked the battle - kicked it off with a wild slash of his own horn. Kirchoff could not stand still. He circled, but kept his promise to himself; he would not attack unless he was needed.

A jarring in his skull was his response to his attack as the tip of the longest weapon caught onto the stallion's shoulder, even despite his attempts to wheel away. The smell of blood hit Ulrik's nostrils sharply, and he wrinkled them in response, not sure about the pungent odor. A small flicker of triumph rocked his mind, but that brief moment of pride was very, very short lived.

Torleik was much faster than Ulrik had originally given the stallion credit for, and their proximity only amplified his abilities. The black and bronze stallion was caught, trapped as his body was was already throw into a half-rear, trying to catch Torleik's back with his teeth. Ulrik felt two horns scrape the underside of his belly, leaving two thick, bleeding gashes on his stomach, but that was not all the misfortune he would face. Gravity and pain decided together that balancing on his hind legs was no longer an option, so he collapsed onto Torleik's horns and rolled off, cloven hooves slipping on the snow.

The Engineer staggered to gain his footing, tensing his gut tightly in response to the pain, not eager to let the abdominal muscles go lest his entire midsection tumble out of his back skin in a heap of blood and guts. Ulrik an engineer, not a doctor dammit! While Ulrik's cloven hooves found purchase on rock beneath the snow, the machine moved in, the motion strange and hypnotic as coordinated metal ran at Torleik. A whirring, crashing noise followed in its wake, and the machine, controlled by its maker, opened its jaws and attempted to crash into Torleik's hind, left leg. The trajectory was at an angle, leaving room to crash into the forelegs as well if given the opportunity.

Hopefully that bought him enough time. Ulrik threw himself back in the battle, reluctant to breathe too deeply. The pain that burned every time his underbelly contracted and expanded was horrible, but some of the snow that splashed up on the wounds from his movement gave relief. Ulrik tried to get along side Torleik and lifting his forelegs one after the other, trying to scrape along the bones of his opponent's legs. Perhaps if Torleik was close, he could not be so injured by those two, curled horns.



[[(787 words) | (2/4)
- bite from before was a little non-existent unless Red wants to write it in somehow :3
- Torleik's horns pierce the layer of skin under his underbelly in two places for each horn and gets caught up under them before rolling off
- as he regains his balance, the mechanical wolf steps in and tries to rambo tackle one leg with jaws open
- Ulrik comes back into the game and tries to scrape Torleik's legs with his own hooves, trying to stay close]]



BRINGING YOU ANOTHER DISTURBING CREATION
from the mind of one sick animal who can't tell the difference

Credits

Torleik the Bloodskald Posts: 354
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 11 HP: 66.5 | Buff: SWIFT
Irelyn :: Plain Griffin :: Molten Dagger RedGod
#7


"I need ruminate on nothing," Torleik snapped in reply. "Refuge implies Deimos took me in out of the goodness of his heart. He did not offer me refuge. He offered a place to exist if I was willing to give him something in return." Torleik tossed his head slightly. "Prudent. But not an offer of refuge. Do not think you gave me a handout. I want nothing lest I have spent sweat obtaining it, including a place to sleep." The rabicano stallion understood more than Ulrik likely did the importance of a herd working together to survive. The Engineer was a loner by his own admission, content to exist on the fringes of the group rather than a true part of the whole. Torleik had been a respected male in his community, an integral part of who and what his people were and how they lived. Community, family, these things were close to his heart.

Their verbal exchange over, the battle began and Torleik quickly found himself in a three against one situation. The odds were not in his favor but his greater concern at that moment was Kirchoff’s participation in the battle. He knew he could not, with any semblance of clear conscience, strike the hellhound pup and injure him. His pleading seemingly reached the hellhound, however, and the pup took an observatory position on the outskirts of the battle. Now Torleik only had to deal with the metal wolf and the Engineer himself.

Two against one. Better odds. Ulrik attempted to pierce Torleik’s shoulder with his horn and succeeded marginally – though his attack utterly sacrificed any manner of defense the shaggy stallion might have had against the rabicano’s counterattack. Torleik’s neck felt the brunt of the impact when his two horns tore into Ulrik’s gut, and a painful strain followed when the stallion was brought down to the ground again – on top of his head. The Engineer rolled off moments later and Torleik snapped his head back up, left ear careening to the side when a strange noise reached his audits.

The damned metal beast. He had forgotten. Shit. Narrowing his eyes as the machine approached, Torleik knew he could not avoid this attack and that it would hurt; he braced himself for the pain. Sidling to the right and eliminating the opportunity for the machine to harm his forelegs, the dual-horned stallion prayed his hastily concocted plan would work – at least enough to get him away from the two of them at once. Gritting his teeth, Torleik utterly ignored Ulrik’s movements and concentrated fully on the timing of the Engineer’s mechanical wolf. This had to be done right. Just before the metal thing hit him, Torleik dropped his hindquarters and allowed his back half to go a little slack.

Instead of finding a lower, more vulnerable part of his leg the metal beast slammed into a meatier section of Torleik’s back left appendage. Everything happened in a tumble of flesh, metal, snow and blood. The demon’s decision to slacken his body contributed to the metal beast’s momentum carrying his back side around in the direction of Ulrik, sending the Engineer’s own contraption hurtling off Torleik’s body without finding anchoring purchase for his jaws. The cry of pain that followed was involuntary and much to Torleik’s chagrin, but he had never before experienced the agony of metal rending his flesh – and he was unprepared. The beast’s jaws had ripped jagged lines across his leg and they had gouged deep at the site of impact, painful punctures that bled.

To Ulrik’s credit, he was already close and trying to harm him again, but Torleik’s position had shifted from the machine’s attack as Ulrik had approached. As they stood now, Ulrik was nearest Torleik’s hindquarters on his healthy side at an angle – not quite parallel. If he did not act now, not only would the pain prevent him from moving but Ulrik would realize he had a better attack opportunity than merely scraping at his legs: he could jab his horn freely into Torleik’s right leg or right side. Fueled by desperation and his draining reserves of adrenaline, Torleik bucked and drew his hind legs into the air, kicking out viciously with his healthy right leg, attempting to catch Ulrik anywhere near the face.

This meant he landed harder on his injured leg and, for a moment, Torleik went down, growling audibly in pain. He scrambled to right himself and his eyes caught a glorious sight – the never-frozen lake in the Basin. Though every step was agony, he beat a calculated, hasty, limping retreat to the water’s edge, and turned to face his attackers once more.

Let Ulrik throw the mechanical beast at him again. Torleik would make sure the Engineer lost it in the water.



[[WC: (794) | (2/4)
- Ulrik's a fatty and his weight strains Torleik's neck a little.
- Ulrik's mechanical wolf attacks and hits, deeply puncturing Torleik's left hind leg upon site of impact. The rest of the wound is much more shallow, superficial tearing across the leg. The pain from this trumps his shoulder scrape at the moment.
- Torleik's single attack is to buck and attempt to catch Ulrik in the face with his healthy back right leg; the positional shift and this attack basically negate Ulrik's attempt to scrape Torleik's legs.
- Torleik then scoots to the edge of the Basin Lake to take a more tactical position, hoping to prevent further use of Ulrik's mechanical wolf.]]


TORLEIK

"I owe you nothing; I've given everything and more. I stand for something - the blood on my hands, the broken bones, I live it."



[Image: 531c0b471919e]

No man is an island.
Pixel by: Tamme :D


Please tag me in all posts! Thank you!

Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed Tamme
#8



Ulrik could feel his heartbeat in his gut, throbbing dully, quickly. The stallion had scraped his knees as he tumbled and scrambled back to his hooves, and the smell of blood hit his nostrils strongly. So akin to metal... It was almost comforting, except for the fact that it was his own blood dripping down the long, soft hair on his chest and stomach. The stallion tilted his ears back against his skull as his metal wolf went on the attack, and the whirring hum of the engine was a comfort to his rattled mind. He needed to focus on this fight as if it was a huge machine, but the throb of pain in his guts blurred the blue prints with every thrum.

The engineer cracked open a bronze eye and looked as his wolf collided with Torleik's hip. He winced slightly at the crunch he heard of grinding gears as forward motion was suddenly halted - like the noise of a clutch jamming in a standard shift vehicle. The impact was enough, it seemed, to shove his opponent's body over, and the metal wolf rolled away, sliding on the gravel and locking into place as the red eyes motion sensed the stallion it had just attacked. Those red eyes glowed lifeless, soullessly; it was a very disturbing sight for most sentient creatures unused to seeing such realistic dopplegangers without a soul.

Hard, white breaths shoved through his nostrils as he suddenly pushed from the ground, bronze eyes playing through the scene like a movie on a lower frame rate. Cloven hooves carried him closer, his teeth clenched as he tried to ignore the groaning of his punctured skin that moved across ribs and abdominals in his motion. As he neared, he tried to scrape his hooves along Torleik's legs, but his plan was quickly diverted. The shift of the battle had driven him closer to the other stallion's hindquarters, and Ulrik threw his body to the right when two, massive hooves thrashed into the air. Instinct grabbed hold and he turned his head away, but that did not save him entirely.

Torleik's uninjured leg flew out and collided with the tense, upper portion of his neck, pushing him over despite his own significant size and weight. The impact of his entire body around the one appendage was like whiplash, causing the muscles all along his spine to clench tightly. Ulrik's hooves struggled to keep him upright again, and he tumbled onto his front, right knee as he fell. The joint hit the rock that surrounded the cool lake, slipping open the skin and burning through his leg. Ulrik exhaled a thick groan of pain, trying to stand but yelping as his back seized. Bronze eyes tracked Torleik as he limped to the edge of the water and turned around, and Ulrik shoved his body forward.

He favored his front right leg as he trotted over, the sway of his back lessened from the tension of his muscles. Blood ran down his belly, neck and knee, but it was almost invisible against the darkness of his black, oily hide. Water and electronics would not mix, so he commanded the wolf to stay where it was, but Kirchoff may be needed. Ulrik trotted into the crisp water, coming at him from the side after making a narrow loop, parallel to the water's edge. The stallion dipped his head, though the severity of the angle was hindered by the bruises that now formed under his skin on his neck.

The engineer wielded his horn like a sword, leaping forward and lunging into Torleik, hoping to spear his opponent on the end. Ulrik was not a fool; anyone could have seen that attack coming, but he was not done. The stallion swung his entire body, hopefully into Torleik, slicing upward with his neck and horn. He could only hope he succeeded. He did not think that his neck would survive any more wild swings. At least the cool water felt good on his knee... Silver lining? Was there such a thing? Curious... he would have to observe the clouds more carefully...


[[(689 words) | (3/4) | permission from red to post since it's a few hours past 72 hours.

- Ulrik falls over and injures his knee as he takes Torleik's kick to the neck
- follows him into the water and tries to impale him and then slash him with his horn ]]



BRINGING YOU ANOTHER DISTURBING CREATION
from the mind of one sick animal who can't tell the difference

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Torleik the Bloodskald Posts: 354
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 11 HP: 66.5 | Buff: SWIFT
Irelyn :: Plain Griffin :: Molten Dagger RedGod
#9



The sensation of his hoof connecting solidly with Ulrik’s neck – was it neck? He couldn’t see what he had hit but it didn’t feel like bone… – was satisfying. Satisfying until the jarring of that collision made his right front shoulder groan and the impact of hitting the ground again returned a tidal wave of pain to his back left, sending him to the ground. Torleik had no idea the injuries Ulrik had sustained from his kick and frankly he couldn’t have given less of a damn. As long as neither the Engineer nor his metal demon were following, that was enough for the warrior at the moment.

The peace he was so blessedly assured from his retaliation lasted only seconds as his glacial eyes watched Ulrik limp towards him. Front right, then. It seemed his plan to avoid the metal wolf was working for the time being because the beast stayed put, its glowing, soulless voids of red gazing at him with a burning, unwavering intensity. Torleik felt his skin crawl when he met that lifeless stare and quickly diverted his attention to his wounded and approaching attacker once again. Is this over yet? Yield, you fool… he grunted in his head. But with Ulrik’s strategic positioning, Torleik knew the Engineer was not done.

Perhaps challenging the interim leader had been foolish if Torleik had not been willing to try to kill him – but he did not think the situation had been quite so dire. He had assumed, naively, that Ulrik operated as his people had, that battles were fought over honor and reputation – though, he mused bitterly, challenges for leadership were fights to the death.

This male was not an enemy. Torleik did not want to kill him.

The acrid tang of blood renewed its vigor in his nostrils and he knew Ulrik was hurting just like he was. They were both bleeding from more than one hole. Yet despite his injuries, the mechanically-minded stallion pushed on. The glint in those bronze eyes was not matched by Torleik’s blues; the challenger feared he would have to seriously injure Ulrik before the Engineer would step down. Torleik noted he was approaching from his wounded side and that was smart; Ulrik was also, by use of this angle, protecting his own injured right foreleg. Torleik gritted his teeth in annoyance. He could not use his wounded hind appendage to strike out even if the angle presented itself to kick Ulrik’s injured leg.

Tired, in pain, the rabicano stallion stayed in place, easily able to discern Ulrik’s opening attack in this proverbial round of the battle. The attack was far too obvious and Torleik braced himself for whatever else the mad Engineer had planned as best he could. Given more than enough time to react, he swung his hindquarters to the right to avoid Ulrik’s stab, grunting as the more lithe male’s body crashed into him. The impact made him stumble a little and he could not gather himself in time to avoid Ulrik’s slash with his horn. The attack caught Torleik in the soft, sensitive place where his belly met his back leg and the upward movement pried open his flesh all the way up his side.

A second of comprehension was allowed during that attack, and it almost seemed as if Ulrik had intended to castrate him; that thought, coupled with the sudden and intense pain of his flesh being peeled, ignited a furious, cold-burning bloodlust within the larger stallion. Torleik’s vision tunneled and all he saw was his opponent.

His opponent and his vulnerable back.

Torleik's avoidance of Ulrik's stab attack and subsequent movement after Ulrik slammed into him had placed the dual-horned demon on higher ground, with the Engineer now in the water and Torleik out. This gave Torleik a fractional height advantage he did not have on even ground, as Ulrik was taller. Utilizing this to his advantage before his opponent corrected the situation, he attacked. His left hind leg practically useless now, Torleik put as much of his weight as he could on his right. An angry roar erupted from his throat and then he began to ram, tilting his head to the side. With the higher horn, he intended to hit somewhere along Ulrik's spine, but if he missed, the lower horn was positioned to hit anywhere along Ulrik's left flank. If his aim was unsuccessful, he planned to hit him and drive Ulrik deeper into the water. If he could not injure his opponent the way he wanted, then he would drive him to ground he could not hold.


[[(765 words) | (3/4)

-Torleik avoids Ulrik's stab, but takes full damage from Ulrik's subsequent slice attack
-Ulrik's slice hits a little low and in the haze of battle, Torleik takes this as an attempt to castrate him
-This sets him into a very brief sort of rage that will last the duration of his retaliatory attack (his energy reserves are too low at this point to sustain it much longer)
-In return, Torleik tilts his head to the right and aims to drive his horns into Ulrik's back to hopefully hit his spine. If that doesn't work, he doesn't care - he then just wants one of his horns to hit somewhere painful and drive Ulrik deeper into the lake.]]


TORLEIK

"To my last breath I am someone to hate! I will spit upon the idol for which you stand! I will carry the weight - I will bury your deception with a wrathful hand!"



[Image: 531c0b471919e]

No man is an island.
Pixel by: Tamme :D


Please tag me in all posts! Thank you!

Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed Tamme
#10



Ulrik felt his body collide with Torleik's after the stallion had shifted, and he pondered on the wisdom of his choices. The pain that shook already tense and screaming muscles along his back and neck cast a white, blinding light upon his vision, and his attack was done wildly - without the careful, mechanical precision of his normal behaviors. This pain transferred through the mental link connecting him and Kirchoff, and the hellhound snarled, lips curling back over large, white fangs as he cringed, starting in toward the water. Ulrik did not command him, but the engineer's mind was all that he knew. Kirchoff both feared and reveled in being released from the thoughts of the mad man, but now?

Perhaps the fear of loss had done something to his soul, but Kirchoff's affections for Ulrik grew enough to want to act. The hound barked viciously from the sidelines, trotting up and down the bank but unwilling to drown in the cold waters.

The sound of barking brought Ulrik back to the present, cutting a way for his mind through the pain. He felt the tip of his horn slice through Torleik's hip with the ease of unzipping a zipper. The tang of blood smell filled his nostrils, and he found himself parallel to the water with Torleik having turned to the higher ground. Ulrik cracked open his bronze eyes after taking a deep breath and backed through the cold, gimping on his bad leg.

One of Torleik's horns pierced the air right above his crest, but the other drive into the fleshy part just above his neck. Had he jumped forward instead of back, he may have been permanently crippled, and he praised his good wisdom, in this case. Ulrik did not believe in divine intervention, otherwise, he would have been thanking a god. The engineer ducked his head and lowered his neck, turning on his haunches with his forehand going more into the water. With the swiftness of his turn and the duck, Torleik's horn slid out of the bleeding puncture hole, and he gasped in pain. Then, he continued his spin until he had done a full 180 degree turn, hindquarters now, hopefully, facing Torleik.

Without much warning, Ulrik flashed up his back hooves, kicking out behind him to ward off any attack, but if he managed to hit the devil-stallion, well... Ulrik wouldn't complain. Kirchoff barked and run to where Ulrik was now pulling his body from the water as fast as he could manage with a limp, turning to flash his teeth at Torleik who had already assumed a position of higher ground. The engineer lurched forward despite the ache, trying to clamp his teeth on any part of Torleik he could reach as his leonine tail flashed around his hind legs.

Kirchoff came around to meet Ulrik, but still did not attack. He would not. Ulrik seemed to be holding his own, and... well... this black and silver stranger was his friend, right?




[[(499 words) (4/4)
- Took a horn to the crest of his neck and spun around
- Kicked out at Torleik
- Tried to bite Torleik
]]



BRINGING YOU ANOTHER DISTURBING CREATION
from the mind of one sick animal who can't tell the difference

Credits

Torleik the Bloodskald Posts: 354
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 11 HP: 66.5 | Buff: SWIFT
Irelyn :: Plain Griffin :: Molten Dagger RedGod
#11



Kirchoff's first round of barking and snarling didn't quite register in Torleik's mind - he was mildly preoccupied with his skin being unzipped from his body by Ulrik's longer horn. The dual-horned demon's retaliation was short and violent, thrusting the bony swords that topped his head in the Engineer's direction in an attempt to cause a wound that was serious enough to end this battle. His top weapon missed but the lower one connected, punching a hole through Ulrik's skin and continuing into the crisp midday air.

His opponent ducked and turned, disengaging himself from the impaling horn and Torleik heard his gasp, feeling some satisfaction in his ability to cause pain. Fighting was something he could always do, even when everything else fell apart, even when his home was razed to the ground and his family burnt to ashes.

There was a cold comfort in that.

The Engineer's sudden lashing out missed Torleik by mere centimeters and the rabicano stallion took this as a godsend. Unlike Ulrik, he did believe in divine intervention and sent a brief, grunted Appreciated, in the general direction of all the deities. Whoever was watching over him, be it the God of the Sun, the Earth, Time, or the Goddess of the Moon, they had his sincere praise. Torleik was spent, and he did not think that he could suffer another vicious attack from the black and bronze stallion.

He no longer had the will to push through the pain and the exhaustion to lash out with intent to draw blood. The frigid water lapped at his ankles and he remained rooted to the spot. It felt so good, the cold. If he could just submerge himself in the lake, it would numb the pain, reduce the ache, dull his senses. This round of the hellhound's barking caused Torleik to snap out of his reverie, his gaze flicking over. A heavy pulse of dread made his body feel as though it was suddenly holding up a mountain. Kirchoff, don't be a fool... he silently pleaded, steeling himself as he saw the companion, barely older than a pup, coming running in his direction.

What if he was forced to harm the hellhound? What if Kirchoff left him no choice? Would the pup forgive him for that? Could he forgive himself?

The much more substantial Ulrik demanded the stallion's attention again as he lunged, teeth snapping in a feral attack. Torleik felt strange, like this battle was now taking place outside of his body. He did not remember thinking to do it or acting it out, but he felt like he watched himself draw his head back to avoid Ulrik's bite while simultaneously striking out with his healthy front leg, intending to simply smack the Engineer away. Whether his hoof connected with Ulrik’s chest, his leg, any part of his body, Torleik didn't really care. It was more a gesture intending to tell the mad stallion to cease their fight. Realizing perhaps mere physicality would not convey this, he summoned the energy to speak – noting that Kirchoff remained by Ulrik’s side and did not close in for an attack. His tired mind registered this and a feeble warmth spluttered and died in his chest, grateful for the pup’s neutrality.

"It's...over, Ulrik..." Torleik said, his voice akin to gravel being crushed, his throat raw from sucking in the cold air. "Let it...be done..."




[[(565 words) | (4/4)

-Since the stats rolled Ulrik critical hitting himself, his attacks miss Torleik
-Torleik's only retaliation is to strike out with his healthy front leg in an attempt to smack Ulrik and keep him away]]


TORLEIK

"I'm waiting for the call, the hand on my chest; I'm ready for the fight and fate."



[Image: 531c0b471919e]

No man is an island.
Pixel by: Tamme :D


Please tag me in all posts! Thank you!

Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed Tamme
#12



Ulrik felt a strange sensation take over his body as his hooves lashed out behind him. A tingling more like the sting of a thousand bees bubbled from his back and down his back legs, seizing the muscles tightly. His body was determined to get him not to move. The internal workings of over stretching muscles and a pinched vertebral nerve compounded to cause this painful prickling, and then the very sensation of his hooves seemed to disappear. As the leaden, cloven hooves landed, he felt as if he was stepping on some sort of invisible club attached to his hips, and he stumbled.

The stallion furrowed his brows and hissed through the pain, dragging his back legs out of the water in a strange crouch until the feeling once again returned. Blood dribbled from the puncture wound in his neck, and he felt heat rising like steam from the blackness of his oily coat, but he could not let the young upstart win, not so quickly. He would support Deimos unto the end, at least... as long as he kept his ideals on the pure and righteous track. Ulrik's loyalty was whole and complete as long as your alignment was with the unicorn blood, and he was certainly not afraid to share his opinions.

He tried to keep a position as dominant in his battle, flashing his teeth out to attempt to catch Torleik in the water, but he had grossly overestimated his body's compliance with his brain's decisions. The muscles in his neck refused to release, tearing as he forced against the clenching of fibers. The engineer groaned loudly and quickly backed away, narrowly avoiding Torleik's hoof flailing in his direction. Breathing heavily, the bronze-eyed monster flashed his leonine tail behind him, wet, thick tendrils of hair curling over the bone like that of a thoroughly irritated cat.

Compared to his body's total ache, the stinging cuts along his underbelly seemed almost like a soft prelude to the chorus of the aching knee and the opera of muscular soprano. He looked to Kirchoff who whimpered once and came to stand at his side, and the engineer was touched somewhere in the battle beaten soul. Ulrik turned his gaze back to Torleik when he spoke and nodded only once, instantly regretting that decision. In fact, if he could just not move for a few days, that would be great...

"I know you," the mad engineer said finally, his voice deep and thick with pain. But, the words were true. Ulrik did know this stallion, from a past so deep that it was almost a dream. Would Torleik remember?




[[[Closing Defense of Derp. (400 something words))]]



BRINGING YOU ANOTHER DISTURBING CREATION
from the mind of one sick animal who can't tell the difference

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Official Posts: 847
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Official
#13
By my verdict ULRIK is the winner!
Ulrik receives 1 VP and retains his title as Basin Lord

TORLEIK
Realism [+2]
  • Borderline power play: throwing it even more to the right so as to intersect his attacker in as perpendicular a motion as he could manage. This is written very declaratively. -- Post 1
  • Dropped attack: No mention of Ulrik's bite. Just for your information, I see that in your comments you noted that you didn't address is, as Torleik's motion might alter Ulrik's attack. This is why all attacks are written as 'attempting to' (or some such variation), so that if something is written than alters them, they can compensate later. However, were Tamme to 'change' her attack, she would be penalized for power play, for 'going back in time' as it were, and re-writing an attack. -- Post 1
  • Powerplay: ... sending the Engineer’s own contraption hurtling off Torleik’s body without finding anchoring purchase for his jaw. You cannot say what happens to Ulrik's machine, any more than you can say what happens to Ulrik or his companion.
  • Dropped Attack: You don't clearly state what becomes of Ulrik's attack. You say that Torleik bucks towards him, but there's no mention of what Ulrik is doing, other than that he could have perhaps attacked Torleik in a more painful way. -- Post 2


Emotion [+2]
Really great emotion throughout!

Prose [+3]
-1 Going over the word count in attack post 1. We have word limit restrictions for a reason. I would say almost all of us at some point, need to cut out a few words here or there to make the word count. Because you knowingly did not, this has to be a deduction. There were also a few of your sentences that were worded very awkwardly for me - I believe you major in english, so I very much doubt that they were grammatically incorrect, but they still felt very awkward on a first read.


Readability [+1]
I had two main concerns with the readability, and I think that largely stems from your inexperience with battling. The first concern, is with the timeline: In your second post, you were still responding to things that had happened much earlier in the time line. That made things difficult to read, because Ulrik's post ended, and Torleik's reply started two steps back, as it were. It really threw things off for me, because I lost the intensity of Torleik's actions, since the flow was moved backwards in time, and then brought forwards again. My second problem, had to do with your attacks. Often, you would explain that Torleik did something - a dodge or a kick - but not explicitly state how this would affect Ulrik's attack. Because it is YOU who decides if an attack hits or misses, it's crucial that you do in fact state the outcome. For example, this was really awkwardly written for me: His left hind leg practically useless now, Torleik put as much of his weight as he could on his right. An angry roar erupted from his throat and then he began to ram, tilting his head to the side. With the higher horn, he intended to hit somewhere along Ulrik's spine. You never actually say what Torleik is doing here - only that he shifts his weight and begins to 'ram'. Does that mean lunge forward? Rear?

Final Comments: Really great ! I loved reading Torleik in this spar. You are a really fantastic writer, and I think you connect with the character you've created very well. Since it sounds like you are newer to the 'sparring' system, I wanted to say what a great job you did. As a whole, your part of the battle was well done.I do think that there might be a few areas of opportunity for you to improve on, such as declarative writing, and responding (and describing) whether an attack hits or misses. Because your opponent's job is to accurately respond to what you have written, you need to ensure that you clearly state what becomes of their attacks.

Finally tally: 13.5 + 8 = 21.5

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

ULRIK
Realism [+3]
  • Powerplay: ...the engineer wielded his horn like a sword, leaping forward and lunging into Torleik
Really great job otherwise! I always check to see what damage was rolled, and what the number was in relation to past rolls/injuries sustained during the fight. You did a wonderful job of consistently writing believable injuries based on the roll!

Emotion [+2]
Really great throughout! Especially the dynamic between Ulrik and Kirchoff!


Prose [+3]
Some Typo's.
YES. THIS. "think you have an admirer," he heard his stupid, beastly horse say in his head. Kirchoff liked the stallion well enough, but Ulrik was mentally handicapped

Readability [+3]
No comments. Very clear and visual writing.


Final Comments: Your spars are always wonderfully clear to read. I always chuckle when Ulrik is funny, because he's so dry and mechanical most of the time. The dynamic that you created between him and his companion was phenomenal - I can't say that I've enjoyed reading bonded/companion interactions quite as much as I enjoyed this one. Great spar!

Finally tally: 11.5 + 11 = 22.5


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