the Rift


Blood In The Writing[Thranduil x Déodat spar]

Déodat Posts: 174
Absent Abyss atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17 hands :: 12 HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Odette :: White German Shepherd :: None Minx
#1
DEEP ROOTS ARE NOT REACHED BY THE FROST

Déodat could feel that familiar yearning burn within his chest. He had not tasted the thrills of war since his failures against the general Torleik. There was no point in drawing forth a challenge that would bear no fruit. Instead, he sought out one of his brothers and sisters in arms. Of course he would take any that came across his path if they chose to accept his challenge. Even civilians should know the basics of defense for the sake of their herd and herdmates. One never did know who lusted for their homeland. Once the unicorns of Helovia had lost a home, it very well could happen again.

In the warmth of Tallsun, he called out in a loud whinny. His challenge echoed through the air hoping to summon his opponent. In silence he watched, in silence he waited for them to come. Déodat shifted his weight from each foot as a hungry light began to glow in his eyes. Already he could imagine that familiar adrenaline rush pumping through his veins as he tore flesh from his enemy’s bones. He had to settle the thoughts of death and carnage. This would be no rival or sworn foe. It would be a brother beneath the icy banner of the Basin. There would be blood, there always was in such rough training, but there would be no death. Déodat would have to control the beast that roared beneath skin and bone.

Through their mental bond, Déodat beckoned Odette away. The Blood Prince had realized the youth of his companion and wished for her to be nothing more than a pup. Odette nodded slowly and waddled off most likely seeking out his daughter as she always seemed to do when bored with him.


"Speech"
Tag;; @[Thranduil]
Words;; 292
Notes;; This is short and gross sorry.
Setting: A clear spot within the Basin beside the lake. The sun is out and shining.
0/3
Companions and magic permitted. You may have the first attack if you'd like.]

Credits: Whit's tables were an inspiration | Coding by Schwartze | Image
[Image: QV8O7HU.gif]
Cut from the cloth, of a flag that
Bears the name of "Battle Born"
con by aihnna@dA




Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#2
Don't forget to post a thread on stat rolling!
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#3

It had been a long time. Wind stirred. It had been far too long. Sun reflected off its twin. The time had come. The golden son was ready to do battle again. Ready to feel the sweat and strain. Ready to breathe the fire of rage and taste the bitter crimson of life. Lost power and skill from a two year’s avoidance of a battlefield had left the golden youth, in his own eyes, unfit. The mountains had cured that though. Rising high and solid their icy challenge was met by the gold. Climbing their heights the golden had stolen from their supply what he had lost. Now, feeling each muscle pull and give with the fluidity and controlled power of a hunting cat, the day, he felt had come. Pulse pounded down in his chest, lungs breathed in deep, anticipation rose. It was time to return. Time to raise the battle cry and let loose the power he felt tingling in his blood. The golden was returning to the brawl. Returning to the fires of war.

Such does his mind tell the preparing body. A general’s speech to his soldiers. Wait though, something is amiss. Those are fresh faces, cleaned just that morning by their mother’s handkerchief. They stand with fresh packs, clean clothes, and new guns. They have never seen war. When the general turns from them his assuring smile of pride and faith falls. He knows. The golden knows. It has been a long time. It was a faraway place from the sand dunes where he once earned his metals. Time breaks all things though. Not even stolen strength and vigor from the mountains can gain those dependable skills back. No, they must once again be earned. Blood and sweat paid in anew. Loans on life and body made. All these things the golden knew and feared. No one in this land of harsh ice, and unforgiving earth would give him the easier test. Nor, for that matter did the gold want that version, for he like the general, knew the truth. The soldiers must go on to full battle regardless of those truths. Mother’s sons must become solider men. So the forgotten golden must become the solid warrior. Both through the pain, sacrifice, victory, and loss of full battle.

Never fear the fear. The twin horn’s ego was enlarged greatly by the recent successes of his work. No, not the work of the herd in which he now labored. His work of chaos and manipulation. Advancement in this made only last night as his lady tasked him as Phantom. It gave silence to the worries his absence caused, and pushed his pride ever larger. Ego could quickly be broken in battle, but time will demand him know these things later. For now, the golden boy shook his body loose in a low extending two paced trot, those earth eyes a spark with gold, looking for a challenger. Fate wasted no time, perhaps she sought to see the truth in his eyes. A call rang across the lake shores, echoing upon the mountains, and in the twin horned’s core. Pausing in mid step, the cat tail lashes about his hocks. Decisions are being made. Cloven hooves step towards the call. Lips lift and twist in a wicked grin.

A red sleek creature he finds by the lake. Beat slows in viewing the challenge, coming to face it head on. Well built, sturdy, yet toned, crowned with clear red blade, and pierced by ice in the eyes, is the stallion the golden finds. One hark leans back, while earth eyes narrow and discovers hidden among his coat splashed with white, scars crisscrossing about him. Grin did not falter though, just as the previous worries were laid aside, so now the higher experience worn by this red was laid to rest with them. The golden’s pride was much too large to worry about such small matters. Feeling twenty feet tall the gold shook about that Spanish head and threw into the air a wild, fierce battle cry, letting it echo on the mountain tops. Returning the gold dusted gaze to the red, one gold forelimb was struck out in challenge.

His mind begins its work. Many think battles time for automation, gut reaction, and instinct. A time for slowing down the mind. The golden sees another world. What courses they choose, what pain they feel, is all a conversation, just not with words. So his skills to read, theorize, and understand are the lenses he views through. As he faces the red warrior his mind is not turned off, but the opposite. It is on overdrive. Whirling. Buzzing. Ready. It’s been too long, so don’t make him wait any longer.


"speech"
TAGS :: @[Déodat]
WORDS :: 790 (this is going to be hard XD )
ATTACK :: 0/3
NOTES :: First attack to you my friend, and good luck!
SUMMARY :: Thranduil feels swelling pride and ego from recent successes, and so decides to answer Déodat's challenge and fight once more. Facing him head on he calls out an answer and strikes out his right foreleg for a moment in challenge, then ready's for attack.

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Image by the AMAZING Vossity

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#4
Selkie and Hawk have agreed to extend this spar.

Sevin the Sucky, I mean are you a # or vacuum? Posts: 161
OOC Account
Mare :: Other :: 5'5" :: 25
Sevin
#5
@[Déodat]- Is this still continuing?

Déodat Posts: 174
Absent Abyss atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17 hands :: 12 HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Odette :: White German Shepherd :: None Minx
#6
DEEP ROOTS ARE NOT REACHED BY THE FROST

The Blood Prince danced on his hooves in anticipation. Just as they always did, one came with his call. An unfamiliar face arrived. It was a stallion painted in a coat of gold. He noted to two horns protruding from his head and he knew double the horns may lead to double the damage. The golden was smaller than the Blood Prince. Arrogance radiated off of the other stallion. Was he getting cocky before the battle even begun? Let the golden boy puff himself up in his arrogance. Déodat was no exception to vanity, but, he knew better than to so swiftly assume his opponent was incapable. Pride had led to far too many falls for him to ever let himself assume he had the upper hand.

With a slow dip of his head, Déodat declared the start of their dance. He pushed himself forward with his hindlegs and moved at the stallion at a slow canter. There was no need to unleash his full fury upon something that would be nothing more than a training spar. It would be foolish for him to get lost in his rage and bloodlust when he was to fight one of his own. Even strangers to him were still under the sanctum of the Basin and they were those he swore to protect. Besides, it would do no good to maim those with able bodies. There was no need for dead weight especially among soldiers.

As the Blood Prince hoped to drive himself closer he shifted his body slightly so he came upon Thranduil’s left. Once he believed himself within range he thrust out his shoulder aiming to strike his opponent’s own left shoulder. As he went in he swerved his head seeking to strike a light blow along his foe’s sides. It was time to see what the golden boy was capable of and whether that pride would serve him any good.


"Speech"
Tag;; @[Thranduil]
Words;; 320
Notes;; Aaah so sorry this took me forever and how hideous this is ;-;

Credits: Whit's tables were an inspiration | Coding by Schwartze | Image
[Image: QV8O7HU.gif]
Cut from the cloth, of a flag that
Bears the name of "Battle Born"
con by aihnna@dA




Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#7

The golden son’s lips curl as the blood brute dips his head in acceptance of the challenger. A cool wind blows between the two, as a lady’s favor given in the last peaceful moment, caressing of the gold’s Spanish neck. Tassled lion tail curls and flicks back in forth as the energy builds in the prideful gold. He was ready for the dull peace of this place to end in a clash of hooves, sweat, and yes, even blood. Blood was not a savoy taste but oh how could you deny its bitterness when it is so viciously won. Did the gold rationalize it also meant his own blood might be shed? Of course that was stored somewhere back there in some deeply buried file, but it could not come forward when he was so blinded by the coming red.

All powers focused on that coming brute. Every muscle and nerve begging for the first crash. Waiting for the beginning of it all. It kept waiting, and moments dragged on. Front cloven hoof paws at the permafrost ground, as the blood brute came in his own time. Harks flick back, impatient for it all to begin. Earth eyes found their target focused, but there was no edge, no blood lust. A tension rose in that golden breast. No! Nares snort out his dissatisfaction. Whether from cockiness or disinterest this red’s rolling pace, set to his own time would not do. Proud twin horns shook out and called out a bitter sound of war. Herd-mate or not, fight hard damn you. If you’re not on the edge of your seat then you don’t belong here.

Red body shifts, and the Spanish neck of the golden son curls. Heart races and rasps against its walls, while breath comes fast and hard already to fuel the adrenaline. Now the warrior races to the left of the gold. Legs begin to dance in anticipation, ready to set loose. If that red fighter wouldn’t up the stakes, then the golden would drag him up with him. Even in their dancing the golden remains in the same place, ready to show the red just how serious any fight with the gold would be. Seconds tick down to, three, two, one. Blood coat comes to his side, but before the solid scarred shoulder can find the gold’s coat, the gold one is raised beyond its reach. Fore hooves push the solid youth off the ground and raise him above the earth.

Attacks fly at the same moment. A sting like a bee hits the golden barrel, then slides down, unzipping the flesh, and letting the precious red begin to flow. The gold’s mouth opens in release at the first blood stolen from him. Stabbing pain radiates up his spine and out to his cloven hooves. It was a shallow blow, a scratch really to what it could have been, but it was enough when combined with the need for a ramped up fight to push the gold’s intensity up to its maximum. What was going to be a planned, precise strike on the white patch of that stallion’s back becomes a pain fueled full hit. It blinded him to its aim, but not to its power. Full force was sent to snap out those cloven hooves with such viciousness. All in a manner of seconds the calm of this piece of the Basin was gone in a flurry of horn and hooves.



"speech"
TAGS :: @[Déodat]
WORDS :: 575
ATTACK :: 1/3
NOTES ::
SUMMARY :: Thranduil rears just in time to avoid Deodat's shoulder, but still gets scraped on his barrel. In retaliation and hoping to escalate the fight, he strikes out for Deodat's back, hoping to hit it before the red runs by.
INJURIES :: Shallow slash along the side of his barrel of his left side.

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Image by the AMAZING Vossity

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#8
Deodat has requested a default. Default win to Thranduil. He earns 0.5 VP
(Hawk, you can request 'partial judging' in order to win the full VP if you want)
Apologies, partial judging requires 2 attack posts per opponent, not total. This fight doesn't meet those criteria.

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#9
I would like a partial judging please, as I spar mostly to get the feedback anyway. I know theres not much here, but still.

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.


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