the Rift


You think you can hold me? [Challenge - Morir]

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
A lone man loved by none:


How long can he live?


He'd had enough.

Bested by a band of roving trash, coerced into compliance by threat of harm to his bonded, Torleik had been strung along as a thrall of this blind buffoon's for a week. They'd been wandering through an endless forest of trees and it seemed there was no particular destination in sight.

And he would suffer it no longer.

He was a warrior, a freemale, and never had he been subjected to the thralldom of another. At that moment, his discussion with Faelene many seasons ago returned to his mind, her shock and displeasure with his people's practice of slavery. He had defended it, said thralls were useful, were treated like family. If this Morir had treated him like family, would it have assuaged the blow to his pride? To his selfhood?

The experience of once being free and having that forcibly taken away...it made him question what he once thought to be true. The proud stallion felt cold inside, weak, shamed. Guilt that wasn't his slithered into his bond and his bearded muzzle frowned, reaching back to lightly nuzzle Irelyn's feathers, perched on his back as she was. 'It is not your fault, little one. I had to keep you safe.'

Her doubt was clear, and it hurt him to think she blamed herself for this predicament. She was but a child, and still suffered from a child's egocentric nature, thinking everything that happened was because of her or involved her. It was natural, but painful in situations such as these; the child taking responsibility for the parent's misfortune. 'It is not your fault, Irelyn. Would it be my fault if someone tried to hurt me and you wanted to keep me safe?' he queried pointedly, watching her beautiful golden orbs clear with understanding. Slowly, she shook her feathered head, then hopped forward a little to rub against his face affectionately.

It was good that she understood, because that very notion was about to be put to the test. 'Good girl. Now. This vile beast has separated from his friends and we are alone. I tire of being led around and we will be leaving. We are going to fight. Whatever happens is not your fault, and you must promise me you will be careful,' he said gravely, the seriousness of his words holding gravity even without being spoken aloud.

Irelyn's eyes clearly reflected the uncertainty the small owl griffin felt inside, but a ruffle of her feathers gave way to a determined expression. Another nod. 'Yes, she responded simply, as best as she really could. She had more feelings to express, more thoughts in her head, but words were still mostly beyond her in this arena.

A calmness settled in Torleik's chest and he silently indicated Irelyn should take to the constellation of trees that surrounded them. As half-owl, she was almost completely silent in flight. This would prove useful during this battle, even if his companion was still sorely underdeveloped for such a fight. Morir was blind and his hearing exceptional, but nature had brilliantly developed the owl to be a silent, deadly nocturnal predator: and Morir existed in a state of eternal night.

Halting, the ground beneath Torleik's feet froze solid from his continual contact with it, the ice looking menacing beneath this low-ground fog that swirled around them. He'd noticed a particular feeling within over the course of the last season, a sense of...something akin to a tingle in his blood. First the ground beneath his hooves had started to bubble up with water and then freeze when he walked, and now...now he felt a rumbling inside, like a storm. Where this magic had come from the Viking didn't know, but he'd not had time to question or seek answers. And right now, the answers didn't matter.

What mattered was making this hideous fool pay for his actions.

"Morir!" Torleik barked, facing his opponent, anger crawling through his tone, making every muscle and sinew in his thick body taut. "I am done with your idiocy. This ends now! If you can best me in single combat, you may keep me - but I get the feeling you're nothing without your band of cowards to aid you," the Viking snarled.

He widened his stance and narrowed his eyes, shifting so that he was right next to the trunk of a tree. This Morir used his ears. Torleik would use the many trees around to make it as difficult as possible for the unicorn to get a clear read or hit on him. A sneer deformed his mouth as he opened it to speak once more. "Fight me!"


@[Morir]

"talk talk talk"
'Mental talking'
Thoughts


-----------------------------------------------------------------
OOC: This is a challenge for Torleik's freedom.

Setting is the Deep Forest, daybreak.

Morir has 72 hours from the time of this post (1:25pm CST) to reply. Morir can attack in his first post.

WC: (777) | (0/4) | Magic & Companions allowed
Credits: Image by Eagle
[Image: 531c0b471919e]

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


Please tag me in all posts! Thank you!

Morir Posts: 79
Up For Adoption atk: 4.5 | def: 6.5 | dam: 3.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 4 HP: 54 | Buff: NOVICE
Arwydd :: Raven :: None Adoptable
#2


The black stag stopped as his name was called and turned around, a slow, gradual motion that expressed mild surprise in conjunction with some measure of irritation. He had been pretty certain that this would happen, but it was annoying none the less; hadn't he been generous, allowing this prisoner to greet the lady goddess despite his captivity? Hadn't he been kind, to refrain from inflicting pain and injury upon the feathered creature that clung to the stallion like a cub to its mother, frail and vulnerable? Torleik too was free of injury, something he decidedly wouldn't have been if Morir had done what he ought to have and left this valuable source of information under the watchful eyes of Tyradon.

Chiseled ears pinned down against ebony poll and with a grace that was surprising considering Morir's large bulk and youth that had yet to fully master control over this premature vessel he moved to face the shorter opponent, guided as usual by sharpened senses.

"If it were up to me I'd let you go" the skull-masked strider said quietly, arched neck swelling as he lowered the triple spears towards Torleik in quiet warning. "As it is... I'm afraid I will have to stop you. Won't you reconsider, before anyone gets hurt?"

Even as he spoke the blind giant stepped closer, highly lifted knees guiding the way in towards the other. Judging by the sound of this fellow's footsteps that he had listened to ever since the stallion was captured he was both big and heavy, not as much as Tyradon or himself but more than Confutatis; Morir believed himself to be taller, yet his fathers blood had created him a tad lighter in built. It was hard to gauge the level of experience this person had. The charcoal hellion was unable to see scars or honed muscle, unable to estimate age or witness determination should it glow from the eyes of a challenger... but he did pick up on the confidence in the tone of that angry voice, and knew he had quite the arduous fight ahead of him.

He didn't wait for Torleik to reply however. Once he believed himself close enough with the rabicano on his right side, head to head with naught but a horn length separating their bodies, Morir acted. With the suppleness of a dancer he dug the hind legs deep into the snow and ice of the ground for traction and heaved himself half a stride forward and slightly to the left, caught himself on massive forelegs and allowed the rear to skid around as he hoped to aim the horn towards the others left side, trying to scrape the tips of his long horns from flank to neck. The pallid death-mask dislodged slightly at the abrupt movement but Morir payed it no heed, too accustomed to the annoyance to be bothered. It wasn't as though any vision of his would be impaired anyway.

Truth be told, he didn't feel anything in particular about this challenge. It was naught but a slight annoyance, an arduous task he wished to complete as soon as possible. The taunt fell flat to the forest floor as the swarthy heathen refrained from paying it any heed - he knew his own worth, and felt no desire to prove himself to this nobody, this idiot foolish enough to let himself get caught by a blind. If any of his brethren had said the same it would have been a different matter, but right now... Morir simply wanted to get this over with so he could take Torleik back to the Rotunda.

Even as he initiated his attack the young stallion tried to map out the landscape with his senses, listening intently as the echo of their voices bounced between the trees. It was unfortunate that they had to be in a forest of all places, the obstacles were many and the ground uneven. While the layer of snow and ice might be less thick due to the canopy, the hidden roots and rocks would make movement challenging, perhaps even downright difficult. He would have to be careful not to hurt himself, careful not to get himself caught in any clever traps. For now it seemed that the closest trunk was located on the opposite side of Torleik - but how close Morir couldn't quite say. It would be good if he could make the other step closer to it though, trap himself between this immobile obstacle and his own menacing attacks.



ooc:

PC: 1/4 + closing
WC: 751

"I embrace the thorny rose to my chest and
fall into the crimson sea
I continue dancing upon the
piled bodies until I die"


♦ Please tag Morir in all replies! 

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
Torleik
A lone man loved by none:


How long can he live?



Morir had no inkling of the wisdom in showing restraint in his actions towards Irelyn. Had the blind beast chosen to harm the owl-griffin… Torleik did not often consider torturing another being, but Morir would have earned it tenfold. As it was, Torleik did not wish to maim or kill the other unicorn, despite his affiliation with what the rabicano stallion was beginning to think was some sort of insurrectionary group – though as to their purpose or creed he had no inkling. One thing Morir was not was a monologuing villain. Thank the gods.

That this blind, skull-masked male had some decency in him was not lost on Torleik, and despite himself, the dual-horned demon was apt to try to reason with his captor. Luckily, his pride did not allow it. Nothing less than a challenge would suffice, and it pleased him to see his challenge was met. He said nothing when Morir asked if he would reconsider. There was nothing to reconsider. He would not attempt an escape like a coward. Blue eyes, hard like frozen ice chips watched his masked opponent’s movement, taking a few steps back as Morir advanced.

The attack was sudden and surprisingly without much telegraphing; Torleik felt an electric surge of adrenaline explode through all of his limbs, giving him an extra fraction of a second in swiftness. Helpful, since Morir was already close and time was short for allowing any manner of dodging – and dodge Torleik did not. It worked against him that his right side was flanked by a tree, as it disallowed him to move laterally without first moving further backwards to avoid the girth of the trunk. Still, the moment Morir lunged was the moment Torleik shoved his weight backwards off his forelegs and reared up and to his right, attempting to offer as little of a target as possible for this unseeing fighter. The stallion grunted in pain as the longest of Morir’s horns caught his ribs just anterior to his flank and scraped a jagged laceration across his middle in a downward sloping diagonal slash.

Torleik landed facing away from Morir, the trunk of the tree now between them and blocking both stallions from reaching the front half of the other’s body. As quickly as he could manage through the pain, the rabicano fighter lashed out with his hind legs, kicking backwards and hoping to violently smash his solid hooves into whatever back half of Morir’s body they could connect with. His only options were his opponent’s flank and hindquarters, and he would take either area as his prize; it would hurt, no matter where the kicks landed - if they did.

A flare of fiery anger bloomed through the bond the Viking shared with Irelyn, distracting his thoughts from the immediate battle for the briefest of moments. She was still so young and should not have to experience this now, this fright and anger and violence. But fate had brought them here, and though he fretted for her safety and desperately wished to send her away to protect her, Torleik accepted the youngling needed to learn how to fight, to learn how to do the right thing even when her bonded was in pain.

At the moment, the right thing for Irelyn was furiously descending in a majestically silent arc, dropping like a tiny, plumed meteor from the flat, grey sky. Her target: Morir’s ears. The owl-griffin was young and could not understand things at the same complexity as her bonded, but it had become clear to her that Torleik knew this beast relied on his hearing.

That meant she would hurt it as much as she could.

She aimed to slam into the back of Morir’s head with all the weight of a handful of feathers and fury, attempting to find purchase on this gigantic, dark monster by clutching viciously at his mane with her front talons. Her goal was not to damage the much larger thing; she could not do that. She was too tiny. But his ears could not neglect to hear, and her avian voice was powerful. Letting out raucous, deafening screeches for all she was worth, the owl-griffin wanted to disorient this bad spikehead so her bonded could be safe. He was already hurting and that made Irelyn mad.

No one hurt her bonded.

-----------------------------------------
WC: 714 | (1/4) | HP: 54.5


"talk talk talk"
'Mental talking'
Thoughts

Credits: Image by Eagle
[Image: 531c0b471919e]

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


Please tag me in all posts! Thank you!

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#4
Torleik is no longer prisoner by the stealth rules: "In the event that the guard goes on absent for longer than 5 days, the prisoner is immediately released unless the guards are switched prior in character."

This may be continued for VP.

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#5
Default win to Torleik. 0.5VP has been awarded.


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