the Rift


[JUDGED] Pure blood [Kaj]

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
#1

[[ Setting: Sky island in the late evening turning night, winter weather but no snow just cold, in the sand fighting arena at the center of the island
Type: no time extensions
Length: 3 posts each]]



The Engineer had been intrigued each day in this bustling hub of commerce. Every was selling, buying, meeting, mingling, and the social interaction was just fucking exhaustion. How long did he have to make sure that the madness didn't show through? Day in and day out, he schooled his features, curbed his personality, and that was just tiring - way too tiring. This is why he stayed in his own little world where nature and machines existed in a beautiful, apocalyptic and symbiotic relationship. Alas, others would not share the same emotions pertaining to his vision. As he had experienced before, he would just be labeled as mad, a pariah, and he would become useless to the herd he served.

But, he needed a way to let out the tension that had been building for days, so he left his crafting hut and strolled with a long, loping stride to the battleground in the center. He had been watching it for some time, rooting for the unicorns and grimacing when they got their asses handed to them, and he believed that now it was his turn. He had done well in his impromptu battle against the silent chunk, Archibald and his crazy bitch. Kirchoff was still moody about that, and the hellhound looked up at him with a sigh, able to hear his thoughts and not all that pleased about where they were going.

Large, cloven hooves hit the sand, and he shuffled his toes in the grains, feeling the depth and traction. This was nice - much better than fighting on snow. A large, winter sun had just begun to set over the horizon, its descent slow and purposeful as the Engineer looked at through the faces in the crowd, wondering if anyone was ready to take him on. He stomped one hoof on the ground, striking purposefully as the hair on his chest and face shook.

Kirchoff slunk under a fence and joined Ulrik at his side, grunting a heavy sigh through his wolf nostrils. What an idiot. "Why do you insist on getting yourself into trouble, Ulrik?" The black and silver wolf looked up at his bonded with big, gray eyes of irritation and amusement.

Ulrik smiled down at him. "To prove myself," she replied.

"Prove.... what?"

"That I am a good fighter."

"But... you're not..."

Ulrik snorted and looked down at his friend. "Then I am here to practice."

Kirchoff sighed and decided to stick with him for now, at least to help his bonded not make a complete fool of himself.



[[x words] [0/3]
No summary.

@[Kaj]


(Please tag me in every post)

Kaj The Aurelight Posts: 381
Hidden Falls Conscript atk: 4.0 | def: 9.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2hh :: 8 Years 9 Months HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Arabella :: Common Zephyr :: Wakiya Brit
#2

{the stormbringer}
every day I'm cast away, a vagabond
battle born
</style>


Constant noise assaulted pale golden listeners, a hum of life and excitement, unburdened by the sinking sun and the chill of winter’s promising breath on their napes. A creature far more appreciative of selective company, Kaj was reluctant to visit the bustling Island, to submerge himself in the erratic heartbeat of the area. This was Kahlua’s area of expertise, mingling and delighting in the companionship and amiable smiles that seemed ubiquitous on the faces of all those visiting the magically crafted area. The King shuddered to imagine how he must appear, shying away and offering muttered excuses to evade such constant euphoria. Kaj was no “downer” (was that the proper phrase? Evangeline was a dedicated teacher, but Kaj did not quite grasp her lessons) and certainly he was joyous in the face of peaceful times…but as a King, as a ruler, he was not so easily swayed and blinded. Peace did not last. It never did. And it ached at his limbs, in the marrow of his structure, until he was forced to turn away from the revelry to ease his frustrations and soothe his worried mind.

It was one such moment that led to his inevitable flight to the battle sands of the central portions of the Island. Retreating from the hubbub to find solitude, peace of mind, perhaps even a stretch of muscles to limber up and ease the stress through physical release. Only, as pale blues lifted to the horizon, beyond the gossamer clouds of his breath in the cold air, Kaj realized he was not as isolated as he had formerly hoped. Snorting out through warm nares, the stallion descended into the pit, thick haunches stilted on the malleable substance and wings shuffling to chase away the cold clinging to his golden skin. Bronze markings of the unicorn before him were an eerie, enticing glow in the faded light, the only striking color aside the intermittent rosy blossoms that drifted like lost ships on the sands guided by wistful zephyrs. A brother in arms, perhaps? He smelled of the Aurora crowd, only overcome by the odd twist of…iron? It was something metallic, perhaps even oily? But with Illynx and her flock attending the Moon Ceremony, Kaj certainly recognized the herd affiliation on the stallion’s skin. Their herds were aligned, peaceful. Perhaps he was willing to spar with the foolish King?

Wings flared in inviting display, hooves sinking in oddly cool sand, a silent beckoning of battle. They are fairly matched, of strong build and honed muscle, but the lad is certainly of lighter feet from the view of things. A fair game could be played, should the stag accept his challenge. A dusk dance of exotic breeds, the sun and the moon dancing in their skins. Kaj just wanted to forget a few hours more.



First attack goes to Tamme!

{469/800 Words}


credit bronzehalo
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!
Plot with me here!

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
#3


Ulrik was a muscular fellow, but compared to the beastly opponent who walked into the arena, he looked like a skinny bitch. The Engineer raised a brow, wondering how this man's wings even worked to lift him off of the ground, but he supposed he would find out soon enough. He was all light brown and chocolaty, like a messy coffee hug, but Ulrik didn't recognize him at first. Kirchoff had to sigh in his head and offer a bitingly helpful comment for the Engineer to realize his opponent's title.

"I think that's a World's Edge lead, idiot." Kirchoff snarked.

"How would you even know that?"

"I use my eyeballs and my hears to watch and hear things - like any other being."

Ulrik scowled and then turned his gaze back to his unassuming, opponent. The World's Edge was his former home before that dragon bitch had taken it from them. Was he one of her sick disciplines? A hypocrite of monumental proportions to preach peace after war had already taken everything from the 'enemy'? The Engineer thought so, or at least he assumed so, and his bronze eyes glittered with a dangerous light as he stared down the stallion.

"World's Edge? He asked, just to be sure. Not like it mattered much. He would bring the pain on this creature for simply of being of ignoble blood, for thinking that he was worthy of this fight. Pride for his heritage and his pure bloodline surged through him, fueling the agitation that had been building as he pretended to smile and be nice for grueling, exhausting days. Being from the World's Edge would just make the taste of blood all that much sweeter.

”Regardless, let the fight begin.” Ulrik said as he lunged forward, using his powerful haunches to decrease the distance between himself and the honey stallion. He would have to keep this battle tight in order to keep the feathered one from using his wings to his advantage while keeping his own weapon in damaging range. The two horns that spiral from his self-crowned brow sliced in the air as he shook his head, thick, black mane flying around his neck.

His breath puffed from black nostrils in rhythmic, white clouds as the temperature dropped, sun tumbling from the sky like a dying firefly. Ulrik tried to decrease the distance between then, lowering his thickly corded neck and snapping his jaws. The Engineer aimed to snag at one of his opponent’s lower limbs or joints, preferably a front knee to cripple any future movements.

In the same movement, he aimed to guard his back with a well-articulated buck, hind legs jerking forward up into the air to deter an attack. ”How about helping?” he grunted in his head.

”How about I watch?”



[464 words] [1/3 posts]
Summary : lungs forward to bite at his knee and bucks to try to deter attacks on his own back Do you want to make this a teaching spar? I can explain why I left alot of the direction open to you in this first post...



(Please tag me in every post)

Kaj The Aurelight Posts: 381
Hidden Falls Conscript atk: 4.0 | def: 9.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2hh :: 8 Years 9 Months HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Arabella :: Common Zephyr :: Wakiya Brit
#4

{the stormbringer}
every day I'm cast away, a vagabond
battle born
</style>


In the dusk, his chosen opponent is but a gleam of bronze and musculature, his hound only visible by the moonlight that exuded from midnight fur. They’re silent as they regard each other, Kaj awaiting a decision on Ulrik’s behalf. Names are meaningless on the battleground. Yet in an era of peace, they cannot afford for words to be eradicated. A rumble of vocals coils like smoke across the clearing, filling the space between the two massive stallions as the stag seeks information. “Indeed.” It’s all that’s necessary, for his rank holds no meaning to Kaj on these chilled sands of glory. It won’t give him any advantage. All he desires is the clench of muscle and burn of pain, to eradicate those thoughts completely until he’s but a honed machine once more. It’s sure to be awarded to him when, in the silence of the darkness, his silent prompt is taken in hand and agreed upon. The dissolving seconds between cessation of words and commencement of attack are brief at best, and Kaj is momentarily surprised, heart leaping at the instinctive fear of lunging daggers. Regardless of the distance between those sickly points and his chest, the adrenaline feeds into his own movement. A memory of Maskan’s brutality, of the ache inspired by his own immobility when the brute had deigned to smash into him, is a sunburst in his mind. Stillness was not an option; the king wouldn’t allow such a blow like the one his mentor had delivered.

A grunt of exertion passed pale lips, clouding in gossamer obstructions of his vision as thick Percheron hindquarters kicked into gear, launching him in the direction of his opponent’s last standing in hopes of meeting Ulrik halfway. Kaj doesn’t have Ulrik’s speed, but he sure as hell can try. An unwitting snarl curls his face in a hideous manner. Private rage is directed at the bronze beast; anger over himself, the world, his helplessness as a military son in a peace herd. His fury is unfounded, directionless, broad. Until Ulrik - the perfect distraction.

The downward curve of pointed horns causes fear to splinter into fractals, invading his anger and absentmindedness like a virus. Thoughtlessly, having never dueled a unicorn aside Tonka (though the child-stealing bastard was hardly a worthy foe to consider, truthfully), Kaj jerked his forelegs up on the next stride, shying to the right as he curved his ankles to poise thick, hardy hooves towards those dangerous weapons. A brief scream of uncertainty, of shame, wells in his chest. What if he broke one? He assumes it’s the same as breaking a wing; devastating. He’s ashamed of his lack of experience with Ulrik’s breed if only for that heart-stopping possibility, but his punishment comes swiftly as blunted teeth scrape and bruise across his left knee, knocking hard.

Shame is swept away in the wake of the pain, his ears buzzing. It tears into him, a poison, as it trails fire up and down his leg. Mockingly, dual horns graze just past the skin of his lower left forearm, harmless. Kaj bitterly wishes he really had broken them for a moment. The instinct to slam his left wing forward is obeyed, hesitation crippling once he realizes those same horns can tear into the delicate feathers. Regardless, the sweep of his shoulder is already in motion, and so Kaj resentfully hopes he at least blinds or disorients his opponent should his face be where Kaj assumes it to be heading. As gravity pulls him back down from his half-rear, Kaj feels his neck halt on his pending attack. Glass is warm against his skin, a reminder of what he’s attempting to evade, of Kahlua and the Edge and all the mistakes he’s ever made. As it restricts his movement, he cannot help but feel that same fury, that helplessness. Maw opened wide, teeth gleaming in the dying light as, without the same range of motion in his neck as Ulrik, Kaj allowed the force of his downfall to put the power beneath his attempted attack. He aimed for the meat of Ulrik’s left shoulder, the bronze marking his guide in the dark that hid his opponent so flawlessly in comparison to Kaj’s color. Kaj can’t hurt his family; those holders of faked smiles and sickly sweet words. But he can hurt this clueless, innocent bastard. He’s nearly salivating for the taste of flesh on his tongue, preparing his left shoulder for the maneuvering he’d have to pull off. If Ulrik continued in a forward movement, Kaj would have to rip his wing to his side away from the horns, and simultaneously fold them close enough to handle the ramming of their shoulders potentially meeting with bruising force. If Kaj could focus on that alone…maybe he could forget everything else.



{800/800} && {1/3}

Notes: Yes please! I'd love a teaching spar. I only have the notes from my past spars getting me through these posts.

@[Ulrik]


credit bronzehalo
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!
Plot with me here!

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
#5


Well this was an enigmatic little sucker, huh? This one word response answered absolutely nothing, and since Ulrik was unaware of his name, he decided to call this stallion in his head by the noble name of “Goldie”. Ironically, Goldie was built a little like his cousin, Torleik, but with massive wings. Both of them had a thicker, muscular build, and since Ulrik had defeated Torleik once before, his confidence was poorly set in the wrong category of ‘easy’. How many times would he have to learn this lesson before he understood humility? Kirchoff would argue never.

Ulrik was conveniently forgetting the fact that he had emerged from the battle with his cousin bleeding and limping, and Torleik had not held the expression Goldie had now. Honestly, everyone here was socially, sexually, and morally repressed. If Goldie had a decent outlet to frequently purge his rage, he would not be making such venomous scowls in the direction of a complete stranger. Of course as they came at each other, the expression became all the more real and Ulrik felt amusement at the anger that was turned on him for little reason.

As Goldie shifts right, forelegs coming up into the air, Ulrik adjusts, opening his jaws to use his teeth instead of risking a skull-crushing blow with those ginormous clod hoppers. Still, the impact on his teeth was surprising, and Ulrik quickly clenched his jaws together to stabilize the ivories as they burned in their boney caverns. A simple tilt of his head and his horn barely grazed along Goldie’s foreleg, compounding with the scream echoing from his opponent’s lips. Did it really hurt that much?

Armor on his opponent’s neck made of glass (how was this effective, he wondered), chinked and clanked as he made his way back to the ground, and Ulrik was distracted by staring to realize one gigantic, abomination of a wing was swiftly moving to push him away. To get dismissed by one of those beastly appendages was nothing short of rude. Ulrik is roughly pushed away by the feathers, and his long legs gather under himself, jumping in the sand and spraying the grains as he glares at the pegasus.

The stallion’s hindered neck gave Ulrik just enough time to move, but he moved in the wrong direction. Instead of backing away quickly enough to send Goldie slamming to the ground from his own weight, the Engineer moved forward. The teeth of this psychopathic bastard slammed into his side, just where the ribs met his spine on the left. Ulrik growled in pain, shuffling away as quickly as he could to get out from under the attack. He could feel blood seep from the open wound, warm against the cool evening air.

Why was it that everyone managed to go completely mental around him? HE was the crazy one! Thoughts ventured back to Archibald and his bloodthirsty bitch, and Kirchoff caught on, growling from where he had been observing and judging. Ulrik was right. For some reason, the Engineer had this curse where in every battle, those he fought let out all of their repressed rage, and he supposed Ulrik had a point when he refused to let social niceties and polite habits rule his social life.

From the looks of this battle, Ulrik was the healthy one.

Swiftly recovering from the bite but still feeling the ache of the ever tearing skin, Ulrik jumped back into the battle, throwing his body left, head low until the last moment when he hoped to be within fighting range again. The Engineer slammed his head up forcefully, hoping that Goldie would open his wing in defense so that Ulrik could stab somewhere between soft flesh and massive feathers. He assumed that defeathering a pegasus would be about as painful as tearing them off of any bird. Hopefully he would return the pain he was currently suffering with every stretch of his back. Backs moved more than you realized until you hurt them.

Trying to keep Goldie close, Kirchoff decided to get involved. The wolf-like hellhound jumped forward, seemingly disappearing, as his speed was too great for normal eyes to follow. He left a trail of silver in his wake, appearing on what he aimed was the opposite side of Goldie. Kirchoff snapped at his fetlocks, trying to keep the stallion’s lower legs occupied in order to protect Ulrik’s head as he daringly ducked low.


-----------------------------------

[2/3] [738 words in Word]
Summary: Ulrik got his teeth knocked from biting Kaj and took a laceration to his left side just at the top of the rib and to the side of the vertebrae. He aims to stab his horns up in Kaj's feathers or wing while Kirchoff tries to keep his legs occupied by biting at them.

-----------------------------------

Teaching Spar Notes:
1. Okay, the first thing that gets me right away is how much damage you took vs. the roll. Ulrik rolled a 1 in damage, which is the lowest possible damage he could deal out. Instead of having him barely take hair off, you had him take a big bruise his leg which can be a big deal. Make yourself a chart and rank in damage from 1 to 6 with 6 being the most damage ever. For example, Kaj rolled a 6 against Ulrik, so I had the aim move to his back, which is a very sensitive and delicate area, open a wound, and cause bleeding. At the same time, I had Ulrik take some teeth damage from biting Kaj. All of that or more could warrant a 6. A bruised leg, which is still serious, to me, is about a 3 ish. A one is barely anything.

2. Your grammar is awesome, but I would work on being extremely clear and concise in battles. Battle posts are not the ones where you need to be using intense prose or replacing words. Think of battles sort of like scientific writing. Go in order of sequence without skipping around too much. Use very plain words for body parts - like upper leg, canon bone, rib, etc. Using replacement words can get confusing for judges and your opponent.

3. The emotion I am feeling in your posts is what I think is your strongest suit. Kaj is really releasing his past through the battles, which is great. Maybe explain a little more what those battles entailed and how they made him feel? If you work on making your attacks and defenses more concise, you can work a little more on the history and really bring your reader and the judge into Kaj's head.

4. Readability I would rank fairly high right now, but I would be docking points for long sentences. The longer your sentence, the easier it is to get confused. Only use long sentences if you are 100% on with your punctuation.

5. Otherwise, I think that this is really solid. The damage you are taking would be my biggest point of contention. Please feel free to ask any questions in your next post about what you are doing/fixing/trying etc! And think of Kevin from the Office: "why use lot word when few word do trick". Try keeping it down (I struggle with this too).



(Please tag me in every post)

Kaj The Aurelight Posts: 381
Hidden Falls Conscript atk: 4.0 | def: 9.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2hh :: 8 Years 9 Months HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Arabella :: Common Zephyr :: Wakiya Brit
#6

{the stormbringer}
every day I'm cast away, a vagabond
battle born
</style>


Maskan stares back at him from deep eyes. This fellow is too alike his mentor, too strong a reminder that Kaj had failed to keep his family safe. His brother had not returned, disappeared into the mist alongside Mirage. The pain is too much for him, the only thing that can possibly distract him from the throbbing of his knee. Adrenaline pumps like molasses in his blood as the slow of time speeds rapidly back to the present. Kaj remembers his distraction with Confutatis, the fear of her magically induced visions, and curses himself. It’s not the appropriate time to be thinking of his mentor, of the family he’s failed. Even if it gives him the sorrow to fuel his fight, it’s not worth the potential injury. Still, Kaj can’t help but hate Bronze even more for resembling his mentor at all. It’s a cruel memento.

Sweeping his left wing serves a dual purpose then, shielding Bronze’s face and forcing him away in a flurry of feathers. The onslaught of sand stings Kaj’s chest, but the dark glare is unheeded. His attack is unfinished, and Kaj cared little for his feelings anyways. This was a battle, not a therapy session. As if he could see Bronze’s glare anyways with how close they were, how quickly Kaj was moving despite his bulk and size. What he did have was his weight, and it seemed to successfully cause Bronze grievance. Teeth rang with contact, jarring the slur of thoughts. Pain, and then a gush of blood is upon his teeth, thick and hot on his tongue. Sick satisfaction filled him. It was a just punishment for portraying the ghost of Kaj’s mentor through his genes. Bronze was not Maskan, but if Kaj didn’t focus and instead succumbed to the maelstrom of his failures, he’d be felled in moments. A giant tree, prey to the axe of the unicorn’s horns.

Tang of iron on tongue and gruff noise of pain drew Kaj from his drifting thoughts. As big as Bronze was, Kaj was a little shocked to see him retreat so swiftly. Though it was definitely amusing; a giant dog with tail tucked between legs. Puritan bastard. Not so perfect, are you? Blame him for his reverse racism, but Kaj couldn’t care less in that moment. Again with the cursed wandering thoughts! Maskan would’ve beaten him into the ground with a fond ‘duckling’ comment for such airheadedness. He’d done exactly that, in their spar. Kaj ruefully smiled to himself, a further lesson surfacing in his head. Don’t remain still; always move. Maskan had never been wrong. So despite the throb of his knee, Kaj needed only the power of his hind legs to joust himself forth in pursuit. Don’t let him rest, keep him on his toes. Maskan’s voice was thick in his head, as clear as if he was there whispering advice into Kaj’s ear. It was the king’s only comfort, to imagine such. Even as he obeyed the advice from the past, charging forth with a heavy lean to the right. His knee was a vital joint, and he wouldn’t dare to stress it any further. Plus it allowed a freer change of direction to put some space between them.

Curving back in to the left after a sweeping arc to the right, Kaj’s eyes narrowed upon the bulge of keratin from Bronze’s brow, distrustful. Bronze kicked back into motion, and Kaj lost track of the previously apathetic companion at the brute’s side. He was far more interested in the danger presented by those horns. The swing of Bronze’s head caught Kaj off guard only a little. He didn’t seem the type to remain still for very long, after all. So far to the right due to his knee, the threat wasn’t as strong, but Kaj clamped his wings down tight against his belly regardless. At least he could prevent the softer feathers from ripping free, clamped as they were. The curved outside and directional force of the main bone would dissuade the horns better.

The appearance of the wolf startled him. Kaj leapt to the right, Bronze’s head swinging past, merely disturbing his wings. Kaj planted his forelegs into the earth, wincing as his left knee protested, and crow hopped a shallow kick at the dog. Using the shortened time span of attack, he resumed his briefly interrupted momentum to swing hard to the left. His left knee buckled on the next full gait, and Kaj didn’t fight it as he thrust hard with his good right leg in an attempt to get close enough to ram Bronze in the injured area, the wolfdog’s fangs lightly nicking his left fetlock. It’d worked well in the past, ramming Maskan in the ribs. Maybe it’d do him well a second time.



{799/800} && {2/3}

Notes:

I wasn't tagged so I missed this, hope the delay is acceptable!

1. I tried to shorten my sentences and be more concise. I think my emotion might have suffered, however.

2. Definitely tried to do better on the damage number! But now I'm afraid I underplayed it too much. It's hard to find a good balance. So I had his knee buckle to cause himself partial pain, and a nick to the fetlock to cover the other half? I don't know if that's acceptable.

3. Tried to be more specific in my attack to bring the battle past in, with ramming Maskan in the ribs being effective and him attempting to replicate it with Ulrik. Is that what you meant?

@[Ulrik]


credit bronzehalo
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!
Plot with me here!

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
#7


Sheer, dumb luck saved Ulrik this time around. The boost to his confidence was utterly unnecessary and rather detrimental to his already inflated ego. With his head low, dangerously close to Goldie’s thickened, draft legs, the Engineer jerked his head upward, barely even ruffling his opponent’s feathers. Balls. Kirchoff decided to get off of his lazy, judgmental ass and help for once, and Ulrik thought he saw his handsome companion actually get a small bite on this blonde behemoth. “Good Job.” The thought was short and praising, and he received snark in response. “Better than you.” And maybe, for right now, that was more than a little true.

Kirchoff watched the kick coming after his bite to Goldie’s fetlock, and he spit out feathered hair before ducking, utilizing his hellish powers to race away from the danger. The hellhound was fast, unnaturally fast, and his markings left a silver glow in his wake, illuminated by the light of the rising moon. Narrowly, he missed a crushing blow from the larger stallion, growling low in response to the threat of danger. Sensations he had only felt once before when fighting Archibald’s bitch began to rise in his blood, gripping his mind like sensual smoke and giving the hellhound lethal focus. He would not be still in this battle long, not with this deep, aching need for blood between his fangs.

With a mixture of luck and being surprisingly light on his hooves for such a large stallion, Ulrik darted out of reach. His skin pulled over the cut on his back, and he grunted in pain, able to smell and feel the trickle of blood as it leaked down his black hide. Whatever Goldie had been trying to do, he watched as it possibly failed miserably. The Engineer skittered in the sand, gritting his teeth together from the pain of getting the irritating little grains of hell suck in his open wound. Well fuck, that hurt. Torleik had tried to run him over once, and if there was one thing Ulrik had learned from his massive cousin as well as his previous home of bachelors, it was to run. Cowardice had nothing to do with it. Ulrik was just being smart.

The bronze and black creature of intellect looked over his shoulder at Goldie, giving him a glorious ‘eat-shit-and-die’ grin that could only come from a well of immaturity and overconfidence. Ulrik lunged after Goldie, determined to end this battle as swiftly as it started, and his calculating mind took in variables like a super computer. Night fell swiftly, and the cold breeze was welcome as it numbed the pain of his movement. The sand was unaffected, still spongy, perfect footing, and his cloven toes which were used to snow and rock were truly blessed. He dipped his head low to his chest, moving to where Goldie had ended up after his previous attack –which had missed nanananaa… The Engineer danced, hopefully, close to Goldie and jerked his head upward, aiming to slash across those massive wings again.

But, full of surprises as always, Ulrik turned his hips, lifting his hind end off the ground and flashing his back hooves out, keen on hitting his opponent in the hock and taking out yet another joint. Poor Goldie might end up with arthritis, but such was life, hm? The battle for both madness and physical prowess raced on it seemed, as Ulrik wasn’t entirely sure that this lead of the World’s Edge (according to Kirchoff) was all that right in the head. Goldie seemed distant and perhaps even a little prejudiced, but that was just a guess, of course. Instead of this fact being annoying like it was before, Ulrik was in good spirits after his skills (luck) had saved him from being flattened.

Much to his surprise, Kirchoff rounded in again as Ulrik moved to leave the vicinity, quickly abandoning his earlier strategy of ‘keep the fight close’. Stab and run was much more his style. To protect his back as Ulrik danced out of the way, Kirchoff leapt from the ground, snarling, aiming to grab at the same wing Ulrik had tried to attack earlier. The hellhound wanted to rip out feathers and leave him like a plucked chicken.

We’re all mad here.

-----------------------------------

[3/3] [713 words according to Word]
Summary: Ulrik ran away to avoid Kaj tying to steam roll him, and then he rounded back, coming up to Kaj and aiming to slash his horn through his feathers and then kick at his hock. As Ulrik retreats again, Kirchoff tries to jump up and grab the same wing.

-----------------------------------

Teaching Spar Notes:
1. I really enjoyed this post from you alot. I think you did a great job of keeping your sentences shorter and a little easier to read and understand the first time through. While I do not think your emotion suffered, I can see how you would get that sense. From what I was reading, the emotion from Kaj was his past being pushed onto the current battle, which was still emotion and still very good. Throwing in a phrase about how he felt regarding his current surroundings would be a good balance, however. For example: what does he think of the night sky? The cold wind? Would Kahlua be proud?

Sometimes I ask myself after I write a post different things I would want to know if I was not in that character's head, and I usually end up finding some interesting anecdote that I can include.

2. Ulrik only rolled a 1, which is the lowest that he can possibly roll without missing. Taking that damage as a bite to a fetlock was a good call. However, the only thing I was missing was the severity of that bite. Did it bleed at all? Did it bruise only? Did Kirchoff yank out any hairs? Those things help you and your opponent get a visceral feel for the battle. So no, I don't think you underplayed it, but it could have been given a little more description.

3. I REALLY liked the part you brought up in your notes, where he tried to use the same successful attack that he had used on Maskan on Ulrik. I think that was a perfect mesh of past to present, and a very realistic choice on Kaj's part. We are creatures of habit, and we tend to duplicate behaviors that worked in the past and avoid behaviors that had negative outcomes. That he tried it, expecting to be successful, was really awesome. I personally can't wait to read how Kaj responds to the critical miss of this attack choice though. Will he be angry? Frustrated? Depressed? Confused?

4. You did a great job of remembering to carry forward past injuries into the present, which is something that I forget to do alot too. You had Kaj's achy knee even affect his choices in some ways, which is not only a great plus on your points, but it's also nice because it validates your opponent's efforts.

5. The only thing that I would work on now is trying to bring in more of your environment. How does the sand affect Kaj? What about the time of day? The weather? Smells? Is anyone watching them, and does it make him nervous or give him validation? I sort of think of this part of the battle kind of like doing art. Part of making art look good is making the character look as if it is believably in the environment. You should do the same thing in writing in a battle.



(Please tag me in every post)

Kaj The Aurelight Posts: 381
Hidden Falls Conscript atk: 4.0 | def: 9.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2hh :: 8 Years 9 Months HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Arabella :: Common Zephyr :: Wakiya Brit
#8

{the stormbringer}
every day I'm cast away, a vagabond
battle born
</style>


Kaj was getting seriously tired of Bronze consistently running away. He’d been the one awaiting a battle. Was he a coward? What drove him to seek out the exchange of blows if he was going to run away like a damned fool the entire time? With a grit of his teeth he lunged for the insolent child, knee buckling as the bruise throbbed upon his delicate joint. What happened was too fast for Kaj to comprehend, his mind clouded with adrenaline as it was. Bronze was too limber for Kaj to effectively catch, he must’ve evaded somehow. Confusion was an undercurrent to the sudden typhoon of frustration that crested in his head. Why didn’t it work? was drowned out by a slew of curses too profane to be detailed concerning the constant dodging and taunting of the idiotic bronze brute. But his attack had thrown his balance too hard to the left; terror exploded in his mind. Falling on the battlefield meant failure at best, death at worst. The sands were too fast approaching, and Kaj panicked and awkwardly thrust his bent left knee forth, catching himself at the last available second. Massive wings flared to their full expanse beneath the moonlight, attempting to preserve his center of balance. The effect of nearly falling, intending to have hit Bronze and stalled himself, brought the entirety of his weight down on his already injured limb. Biting back a scream was the best he could do to preserve his dignity, sand spraying up and stinging his skin at the sudden crashing of his body to an undignified stop. Clenching his eyes shut against the onslaught, Kaj’s mind was momentarily overridden by pain as he faltered. Completely motionless, driven to a standstill by the abrupt save. Maskan was screaming in his head to get up, to keep fighting. The warm glass on his neck was further incentive to continue. He had to prove to his family that he was able to protect them, was worthy of being their King. Right?

Staggering up, Kaj opened his eyes into slits of anger. His absentmindedness eradicated, there was only the powerful throb of hot, pulsing anger. Cold wind swept over him, further sharpening his mind with the chill. Maskan’s voice was silent. Kaj didn’t attempt to run once more, sensing the pattern in Bronze’s style that would have him darting in and out; using the advantage of his faster frame against Kaj’s lumbering mass. Anger oft made fighters cloudy-headed, but Kaj embraced the clarity it gave him. Quickly dug his hooves into the soft give of the sand, the terrifying near-fall driving him to prevent it happening again.

Bronze circled back, as Kaj had anticipated. Kaj barely regained his stance before Bronze approached from behind. Wings having flared out to catch him, they were half-tucked, shrouding Kaj’s peripheral vision. Bronze, already dark as the night that had swiftly descended upon them, was completely invisible to him. The only alert he got was the spray of sand upon his hocks, signaling the stallion’s approach. His attempt to close the wings in response to the stimuli, remembering how his foe had continuously attempted to target the vulnerable limbs, was not swift enough. Those damnable horns caught on the outermost feathers, ripping free a small handful against the grain as Kaj jerked them tighter to his belly in response to the pain. The main bone was knocked hard as the horns were thrust free, the surrounding muscle swelling with a sure bruise that would leave him dreading flight the next day. They kissed the swell of his left shoulder in a mild scratch before he jerked away to the right. The King hissed through clenched teeth as his left knee objected, stiff and locked. Narrowly avoiding, without his knowledge, the underhanded attempt at his hock.

Irritation budded swiftly, breeding off his anger. Kaj sought his magic, letting it surge to the forefront. Electricity hummed along his skin and feathers, painting him a dull blue-white in the darkness. Yet another pale coloration to his disadvantage. A target in the darkness, a pathetic imitation of the moon he served. Recovering from his spastic avoidance, Kaj lurched back to the left with a kick of his hindquarters and a spray of sand, teeth parting. Aiming for the delicate spine of his foe. He sickly hoped the childish, evasive bastard would feel the electricity deep into his bones, like invasive fingers in his muscles. Again the wolf came from nowhere, teeth ripping into his flight feathers. He hoped the mongrel, too, would feast on the electricity. There was no longer a desire to prove himself, to neither his family nor the ghosts of his past. There was only the desire to teach this idiotic child that his underhanded ways would not be tolerated.



{800/800} && {3/3}

Notes:

1. I struggled a lot with this post, whether because it's been a while since I read through and posted on this spar or because of something else, I'm not sure. My apologies if this makes it any harder on you as a teacher!

2. I understand the 1/2 and 5/6 damage severity, but 3 and 4 I get really lost. So I had some bruising, a mild scrape, and some missing feathers (which I count as very minimal, considering birds often preen their own feathers and can still fly when they are attacked?) I may need some more help on the middle portion damages. Kaj also took a LOT of damage these past two turns, with his Critical Miss and a 3 damage, which I feel made it so much harder to write because I felt like I was writing pain after pain after pain and then I was losing word space like crazy because I wanted it to be realistic?

3. I couldn't, for the life of me, find anything from past spars to bring into this post. And since I specifically wrote Kaj disregarding Maskan's advice since it ended up not working out, I didn't know how else to bring in the past? So I instead used the recent past, of Ulrik constantly targeting his wings. Is that appropriate?

4. Brought in more of the environment through sand, moonlight and darkness, and had it impact Kaj by aiding Ulrik since his dark coloring made it harder for Kaj to pinpoint him. Thoughts?

5. Completely off topic of the previous numbers, but I really personally liked Kaj's half-flared wings blocking his peripherals. I did a little giddy dance, because I thought it was creative. So I hope that was okay.

@[Ulrik]


credit bronzehalo
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!
Plot with me here!

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
#9

If Ulrik had any saving grace in the mountain of character flaws, it was his intelligence. Going head to head with the large, muscular Goldie would do nothing but leave him broken and smashed like when he fought his cousin, Torleik. The Engineer learned from his mistakes, as any good scientist would, so his battle style this time was bounce in for an attack and then haul ass out of the way. This was contrary to his initial plan, but Ulrik was certainly adaptable – out of respect for natural evolution, of course. Socially, he understood that there were concepts such as “honor”, “dignity”, and “a good fight”. Understanding did not make him think that they weren’t bullshit, which, they were. A good fight was a fight which was won, no matter how it was won, so he had no qualms about running away .

The laceration on his back protested, of course, but it was better that the lone injury hurt than have others join it; that would make him weaker. Ulrik felt a rush of wind which could only be from wings opening, and he chanced a glance over his shoulder as he avoided attack, watching as the great beast lost balance and slid through the sand. He seemed to have injured himself further, which was just entirely amusing. Honestly, this was a battle between brute strength and intellect, and the secret was that wits and wiles would always win. At least, that’s what he thought in the over-inflated pride of his brilliant mind.

He took advantage of Goldie’s position and jumped forward again, using his dual horns to aim for those powerful, large wings. Much to his pleasure, he felt the tugging at his skull of impact. Like plucking a chicken, feathers tore free from where his horn clawed, and he even felt it pull against the thick cords of muscle that made the appendages flight-worthy. The aim at his hock did not make it, but Ulrik was satisfied with what he received instead.

The familiar crackle of electricity alerted Ulrik to a very interesting power this Goldie must possess. “Kirchoff! Careful!” Almost as quickly as the hound’s jaws wrapped around feathers, he let go, only receiving a minor twinge from the power as he slinked away. Kirchoff wanted to thank Ulrik, but he was unsure of how to even start to do anything positive toward the genius brute. Instead, he stayed out of the battle, watching now that his help was no longer needed. Ulrik was a powerful manipulator of spark, so Kirchoff was confident that his wild bondmate would be safe.

Ulrik watched the blue sparks which illuminated his opponent like fire, and he saw the hind limb jolting out toward him easily in the darkness. The black stallion dodged impact, feeling the hairs on his mane and his back rise up with the polarity of Goldie’s power, and the laceration on his back protested at his sudden dive. Unfortunately, electricity had this way of traveling and jumping from conductor to conductor, so even though he avoided impact, one of the sparks jumped onto his back. He grunted through clenched, sore teeth as it caused a unique, cold burn to his skin, just around the area where the gash already was. Ulrik was used to that pain, since his machines were sometimes fickle when he shoved parts around with his nose, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Damn.

Overall, he was fairly okay. One laceration, one burn, sore teeth… Not bad for a go against this golden behemoth who seemed to be dealing with some sort of combination of anger issues and psychosis. Ulrik trotted sorely to a halt, glancing around and noticing once again the night sky and the open air. Something about battle was suffocating, and now that it was over, he was free again. The Engineer raised a brow at his opponent, wondering what he could even say given the drama of their encounter. He was never one for tact, but this situation deserved some thought. “Thanks, Goldie.” He was not one to comment on another’s mental state, so he would let it go.

-----------------------------------

[Closing Defense] [693 words according to Word]
Summary: Ulrik was shocked/burned on the back and Kirchoff's mouth was lightly shocked.

-----------------------------------

Teaching Spar Notes:
1. I actually liked this post! I thought it read very clearly and concisely, and I actually didn't have any issues getting through it the first time around.

2. Usually what I do is take my opponent's attacks and make a scale for myself. So, for example, this is what I did with Kaj's kick and shock attack toward Ulrik.
1 - minor burn but avoid the kick
2. - slightly more tough burn, but avoided a kick
3. - a shock and scraping the hair off of his back
4. - a shock and maybe some sort of laceration (actual skin splitting)
5. - a shock and a deep bruise and laceration
6. - the kick landed 100% and caused severe muscle/skeletal damage and was shocked

So that's generally how I respond with the 3/4 range. I base it between the two extremes. I think you did take the damage really well. You had some severity because flying would be difficult tomorrow (like you said in your post), but you also didn't make Ulrik compromise the entire wing like a 6 probably would have done.

I can see how the damage after damage would be difficult to write, especially with the word limit. But, I think that you did a good job. I don't really have an answer on how to do this other than to gloss over past injuries and just have it affect their future movement.

3. You don't have to bring something from past spars in every time! It's just another way you can add some evidence to any claim you make in writing. For example, if you say "Kaj knew that this attack was a good one", then you should follow up with the fact that he knows because of a prior battle. But, if Kaj is trying something new, naturally, you wouldn't have to bring in anything from the past.

4. The darkness stuff was spot on! Awesome! I actually got bonus points for doing the same thing in a test battle once.

5. I think that was great! You really brought in the power of wings as well as their detriment in battle. Such big appendages could be really good or really bad, and using that as a natural reason to take damage was really, really realistic! A+!

6. Honestly, I think that this was your best post yet. I found 0 grammar or other issues. Nothing stuck out to me as being "weird". Everything fell in line with the dice rolls. I really liked the anger and emotion. This is 100% solid! I have nothing more to add.

Thank you so much for letting this be a teaching spar.
AND MAY THE ODDS BE EVER IN YOUR FAVOR!
:D We will see if the judging lines up with what I have been saying.


(Please tag me in every post)

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#10
By my verdict: ULRIK is the winner!

ULRIK
Realism [+4]
:: I’m waiting to see how it plays out, as I think this could be a very lasting injury in battle, but I think you could have taken slightly more damage in your second post in response to a dice roll of 6.
:: Good job keeping your terrain in mind at all times, and how it affected Ulrik.
:: I really enjoyed Ulrik’s change of strategy half-way through the fight as he realized his original plan wasn’t actually that great.


Emotion [+2]
:: Good job with the relationship between Ulrik and Kirchoff in the first post, it gave nice balance to Ulrik’s contemplations on Kaj and the Edge.
:: Everything about Ulrik is calculating and distant, which comes through really well when you write him.


Prose [+4]
:: Ulrik tried to decrease the distance between then, lowering his thickly corded neck and snapping his jaws. Them
:: It seemed superfluous in your closing defense to go back and reiterate your attack that had already been defined in post 3, but since this is the defense I can’t remove any points for it.


Readability [+3]
:: No comments or concerns

Finally tally: 46 + (13*2) = 72HP

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

KAJ
Realism [+3]
:: It was great that Kaj was going back and remembering old fights while considering how they differed from this one with a unicorn.
:: I think the amount of pain described from a dice roll of 1 was a little too high in your first post.
:: In your post 2, I think you inserted more time into the battle than Ulrik had intended between backing up and re-entering, since you gave Kaj enough time to do a seemingly rather large circle.
:: Great addition of recognizing the terrain in your final post.
:: I think you were taking damage well in your final two posts, but I wish there was more description beyond just ‘bite’ for the two that Krichoff gave. The description of the feathers I found to be much more satisfying.


Emotion [+1.5]
:: I definitely got the sense that you were trying to put emotion into Kaj in your first post, but it all felt sort of disjointed, and some of it was confusing. Especially this quote: “Kaj can’t hurt his family; those holders of faked smiles and sickly sweet words.” It seems confusingly unlike Kaj to think that way about his herd.
:: Noting it here too, since it continued so nicely into the next post, great job with Kaj comparing past to present and his past battles.
:: Likewise, great job with Kaj’s anger at his critical miss affecting his reactions for the remainder of the spar.


Prose [+2.5]
:: In your first post, the writing was clear and easy to follow, but it felt just a little… disorganized, maybe? There was just a feeling about the writing that maybe you weren’t entirely comfortable while you were writing the post that is difficult to put into words but that came through in the writing.
:: After reading your other two posts, I think there were a lot of fragmented sentences, which was giving your writing the disjointed sort of feel that I recognized early on.


Readability [+1.5]
:: Through post 1 and 2, I’ve found your attacks to be somewhat confusing and requiring several read-throughs.

Finally tally: 35.5 + (8.5*2) = 52.5HP


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