| Administrator |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
| Official |
09-20-2012, 08:09 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-21-2012, 09:25 AM by Official.)
ROUND TWO
Qian v. World's Edge Herd
This round lasts for 72 hours, the late penalty for official challenges is suspended. Failure to post during this round will result in your character being "knocked out", and unable to finish the rest of the invasion.
There is no posting order. If you are attacking someone, be sure to BOLD AND CAPS their name so that they can easily see you are addressing them. Before you post, be sure to refresh the thread and check to assure there have been no posts added since you started writing. It would be wise to advise the cbox that you are in the process of writing your reply. You are not allowed to edit your posts for the sanctity of fairness - We will know if you edit your posts, and you will be penalized. If you need to edit your post, please contact an administrator to have it done for you.
If you have not posted in Round One, you are not allowed to enter into the Invasion.
Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
|
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
Kri seemed an honorable sort in her own way, and it was just bad luck that he ranked low in her book of "deserving of respect". He gave her a humorless smile, flicking his tail again. "I can see that." Wake up, wake up. Mauja blinked, once, and something dark settled in his gaze as it swept across Kri's body. This would not end here. He'd hunt them all, until the end of time - until their veins were dry and hearts stale and the life gone from their eyes. The beginnings of a growl rumbled in his chest.
A mare was shouting about orders and edges - the cliffdrop was a far ways off, though, and with nonchalance he turned to survey his own ragtag army. He cared little for their lack of formation. Let their enemies see that, and underestimate them. Let them see that and grow bold and stupid, and then let them die when Mauja's army robbed them of the right of the first blow. Why wait? The enemy was here, and his kin thirsted for blood.
Korra slid up beside him wordlessly, her eyes on fire, soulless, dark. He stared at her for a moment, wondering where his own rage was hiding.
"Keep away from the dragons and their fire, watch the skies for attacks from above! Let us be like a tidal wave, like a landslide, a wolf pack - merciless, together. One by one they will fall to our combined might!" His horn, glittering coldly in the dying sun, pointed to each of the targets in turn. "The black unicorn mare, the dunskin with a dog, and the painted draft stallion. Let's start with these!
"They think they can take our home, take our land - they think that they have a right to what is ours! Waste no chances, let death come in the wake of your shadows - I would proudly die for all of you, but let us instead paint these lands red with the blood of our enemies!"
Shouting certainly sent your blood pumping. Finally - finally - his heart picked up in rhythm, adrenaline flashing like a flood into his veins. He stood on the spot for a moment, kneading the ashy, familiar terrain with his front hooves. Root, rock and hole - he knew them, the soft moss and brown grass, the long shadows cast between the trees and the breeze smelling of brine and sea gulls.
A deep breath.
A call which sent ravens and crows into the air, cawing and shrieking, darkening the sky.
From the ground in their midst, centered where MIRAGE, TORASIN, VIKRAM and KIARA stood, the ice came without warning. With only a grunt of effort he pulled them from the earth, mind honed from practice, and he could feel the chill of it in his blood - it always came, welcomed in the heat of battle, stronger now that he pulled five from the ground with a single forceful thrust. Skywards they soared, to reach past Mauja's own height, and he did not wait to see if they hit or not - did not wait to see if bodies were impaled on them, red blood running down the cold pillars. The Ice King charged into motion, muscles rippling under his alabaster skin, and his mind let go of the threads of magic. With no protest but a groan the spikes slipped back into the sheath of earth.
So many times had he run across this ground, but never before with such an intent, such a purpose - nor with such a rage, such a dark, ferocious anticipation. Worry was always at the back of the King's mind, a curse he could never escape, but what was the point of worrying when the fight was not yet lost, barely even begun?
The wind touched him with soothing hands, a blanket across his troubled mind. Let them only know the full extent of his love for his herd - and let them know the consequences of challenging that, of forcing his hand in this way.
I will not forgive nor forget.
His sights were set on AARON, the young draft he'd called as target. A heavy sort, painted brown and white, yet not too tall. Mauja towered above him, a marbled statue carved from ice - silent now, but dark of eye as his horn pointed towards the youth's neck.
He felt the ancient power of the ground thrum up through his legs, the soft whisper of wind and shadow.
For all of you - my family.
Their bodies loomed closer, their line a threat to all he held dear. A step from impact, his dark eyes drifted shut, something akin to peace - bliss - across his soft white face.
I want to feel the warmth of your blood run down my face.
And counter-attacks be damned.
[ 798 ]
Mauja Frosthjärta |
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
09-20-2012, 08:11 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-22-2012, 11:15 AM by Official.)
The Bull shifted his weight restlessly between his hooves. He threw up his head and let his horns swish through the air. His nostrils widened. A loud snort escaped him. Full, black tail whipped behind him. He pawed the ground. His heart raced. Adrenaline pumped though him. He waited...
The sun was setting over their troops and Lucius was pleased to see that they were not as outnumbered as he’d first thought. By his side was Lloyd and it eased the Bull to have his twin there. Together they would have a better chance at surviving this ordeal. If we stick together, he thought. we can pick them off one by one.
He felt like purring when his leader’s voice resounded like thunder in the air. Like a content cat, a very big cat that was, he smiled and let his sulfur eyes drift to the sky. He saw several flying creatures and the sight made him frown, he hated the winged and needless to say he was very pleased that his magic could come in handy against them. His gaze settled on a horned skyrat, perched on a branch. Hello, pretty little blue jay. Lucius smirked to himself. The Bull then dived deep into his own mind. Closing his eyes and imagining JAYDAN, ever so slowly he let the magic flow through him. His eyes snapped open. Let’s see how much weight that branch of yours can take. He was careful not to alter the gravity too fast, he didn’t want his target to notice what was happening and besides he couldn’t just project the whole strength of his magic in a second.
Then came the call he had been waiting for, the bellowing voice of the ice king commanding them all to charge.
Lucius let the last stage of his gravitation magic explode towards the blue jay. If the skyrat had noticed his magic and taken to the sky he would find himself weighing more than his wings was designed to take and if he was still in the tree… well let’s say it wasn’t very likely the branch could hold that immense weight either.
"Come on brother! Let us take the little buckskin prick and his mongrel!" Lucius bellowed to his brother and lurched his heavy body forwards gaining as much speed as he could managed. The Bull lowered his thick, black neck presenting his two sharp tipped horns. The ground rushed by underneath his enormous hooves as he closed the distance between himself and the young buckskin. Grass was cast up behind him and his heavy feet left deep prints in the soil. The Bull let a mad roar leave his throat and aimed for RICOCHET’s left shoulder, hoping that Lloyd would take on his right.
It had started. And Lucius was ready. In his powerful charge he even found that he was ready to die. Ready to give his life just so that he could make some of these vermin bleed.
Color the earth a crimson red and let the stars weep for those who are about to lose their lives this night. War… it is an ugly sport.
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[Wahh! The only thing I altered was adding JAYDAN's name so that it was clear who Lucius attacked with his magic, so so sorry for forgetting the no Edit thing ^^']
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 10 |
| Adoptable |
 Despite the annoyance of being invaded, it was a thrilling thing - she had to admit that much, at least. Owe up to her past as a warrior. With a self-important air she inhaled and puffed out her chest, still strutting up and down their line, eying the enemies. So many wings, so many dragons, so many hornless rats... But the ones which made her amber eyes darken the most, were the horned ones who stood there with the rest of the scum, so eager to turn upon their kin. They'd chosen the path of darkness, turned their back upon the glory of their race, and to Alan, they were little more than vermin now. They were disbelievers, weaklings and fools.
Though that bronzed dragon-horse certainly looked strong. Alan paused in her striding, and swallowed. Damn. So many of the flying critters littered the sky, gold, brown, white, the orange light flashing across their scales. She'd been raised as a fighter, unafraid and foolish, but seldom had she had to fight dragons. There'd been none in her homeland.
Arabella, the pretty spotted mare she'd brought home, came up beside her and Alan gave her a roguish grin. Despite her doubts about dragons, this was still a war, a chance to sink the point of her horn into the flesh of a lesser being. It did warrant some sort of excitement, albeit a dark one; with her thick mane in a disarray about her head and that ferocious glint in her amber eyes, Alan looked quite mad. "Ready for this, sweetheart?" she purred in a low voice, for a moment brushing against the mare in a feline fashion. The tension was building in the air, like a climax, drawn out by some invisible wait - until Mauja called out again, orders and words. By now Alan was practically prancing on the spot, muscles taut under scarred skin, mindless, just waiting to be released. Squirming inside her own physical boundaries she wound herself around Arabella, ears flickering and tail lashing. Wait wait wait wait, she repeated like a mantra in her head, until suddenly ice broke from the ground and Mauja's pale body flashed into motion, a streak of white in the corner of her eye.
With a shrill, wordless cry Alan launched herself forward, thick haunches pushing off the soft loam and moss. Her hind hooves nearly slipped on the fog-wet vegetation before she found traction, and with easy grace she charged. Mauja had spoken of targets, but she'd not paid enough attention. Someone had to bash their line open anyway, but she had enough sense of self-preservation to try and avoid the two larger dragons. With madness dancing along the rims of her eyes, an ache in her teeth which demanded blood, Alan flew across the battlefield. Soon the grass would be churned to mud and slick with blood, and the trees would block the sun so no one need get it in their eyes.
She guessed that the Pegasi would take to the skies, and didn't aim for them. Instead, she headed for something dangerously close to Mirage and Vikram. With her exhalation died the war cry, and it was in relative silence, heart pounding in her ears, that she tucked her head. Mere steps from impact she angled slightly right in an attempt to collide with TORASIN, using her left shoulder as a battering ram. It'd hurt, but if she could punch through here, it might cause disorder, chaos- frenzied, adrenaline spiking her blood and her mind nearly ecstatic, she tried to keep her stride with momentum, to avoid falling, and unless something intervened to knock her to the ground, she'd try to charge past Torasin and rake her horn down his left side.
[ 622 ]
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Ultimate horror often paralyses
memory in a merciful way
- H.P. Lovecraft
It was all familiar. The hollering voices cutting through the late afternoon air, hooves trampling the ground and beating grasses into a soil moistened by recent rains. A golden sun stood low on the horizon and set the treetops ablaze, throwing our shadows long and terrifyingly distorted before our hooves - perhaps too low to blind the adversaries that trampled the border. How dare they? They should all disperse and scatter like rats before our might (although I had to admit, the ragtag group that sprawled among the forest edge didn't quite live up to the potential of what they could be) and submit to the noble supremacy that was our birthright.
Ears flattened against the stormy gray neck. My feet tested the earth beneath, listening to the sound of grass and tree roots that coursed beneath the surface and made it sound hollow. I listened to Mauja as he laid out the tactics while eyes pale as death stroked the shape of my idiot brother. How I longed to scar that velvet black coat with my horn, feel the flesh give away beneath my teeth and taste crimson blood upon the tongue. The very thought of it made me shiver from pleasure, an excitement not entirely healthy but oh, so sweet. I heard the instructions, but quickly discarded any intention of adhering to them. There would be plenty of goons to carry out of the orders. My goal had been determined from the very moment the blood-traitor appeared before my eyes.
A final glance along our own lines gave me another surprise. It was with a faint smirk over the lips I met the eyes of my little sister, noticing the hatred with which she looked at me; I laughed, amused by the strength of her feelings toward me. Later, Psyche, we can talk this out however much you want later. Now was a time for pain and bloodshed.
The battle cry of the King signaled the start of the charge, but rather than to rush along headfirst into the flank of the invading force I hung back until the first wave of soldiers had passed. Then I tossed the darkly masked head and snapped sharply at PSYCHE, my voice short and commanding as I took charge over her.
"Come on, sister. It's time we have a little talk with our beloved brother. Use the chaos of the first charge as cover and make your way to his other side, unnoticed if you can. I will draw his attention - mind his blood boil magic and don't be late!"
With that I set off. I could feel the legs trembling from blood-lust and excitement, but with the thoroughness fitting for a commander I tucked the hatred and all uncontrollable desires beneath the surface, restrained them and took up the chilly cool with which I always fought. There would be time for passion and adrenaline, but first I had to manage over to PALADIN. Black hooves increased the pace, from a fast walk into a steady trot. As I closed in on the enemy lines I mingled with the bodies of my allies and fell into a sharp canter, muscles tightly controlled as I slithered around the scattered trees with feline agility. White eyes were locked on the body of my idiot brother, took in the familiar shape of his body, the red mane that sprouted short and tainted with the red that was the sign of his nobility. I saw the rippling muscles beneath the ebony skin, the large areas of pink where skin was slowly healing after a massive wound. A burn perhaps? It mattered little, because it was a weakness I would be only too happy to exploit.
"PALADIN!" I screamed and initiated the charge with crimson tail flaring behind me like a crimson banner. Long legs carried my grullo body away from the shelter of my comrades, quickly closing the distance between me and the stallion I had chosen for the evenings dance. Muscles swelled beneath ashen skin as I lowered the head and angled the sleek white spear towards the ribcage of the Foothills leader, hind legs propelling me rapidly towards him with what could be a lethal force.
Of course I didn't count on it. He was well trained and would never allow anyone to spear him with such a blunt and direct attack. That wasn't the purpose either. I would draw his attention, give Psyche time to get to his other side - we had to surround him, because even though I had faith in my own strength, I had no wish to take the amount of injury that would come with defeating Paladin. Psyche would get to share that burden with me, whether she liked it or not.
[Word count: 796]
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| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 :: 9 Buff: NOVICE |
| Sica |
More numbers gathered on both sides, but her eyes would collect to those who would be with her in battle. It was their faces she would need to keep with her. The red maned tipped her head to respect to their mechanic, happy to hear no words of disapproval, but instead the insults thrown to the enemy. Mauja appeared collected as he walked by to stand with the dark stallion despite the soldiers in the distance. A steady stance she listened, and it only made her despise the circumstances more. Everyone seemed ready, the hatred in the air, if they had known it would come tothis. A dark chocolate pegasus mare catches Faelene hearing her call to Throat warriors. It came to her addressing Mauja, it irked her deeply in the manner she chose to speak. As if they should not hold blame upon her. It was only further proof of their dishonesty...who they really served. Her black skull cocked to see a bay mare further Faelene's own thoughts. It boosted her confidence, they were all united in this fighting for a real cause.
So war it would be. It did not bother her it came to this, she realized she did not want to live with the alternative. Caught in a haze she was aware of the rest coming, but stood alone while they gathered. Until her fellow Phantasm gathered to her side. She was pleased to see the lady, and let her eyes drift to her. Faelene long decided she could call her friend, and heard the sigh tear from her lips. The words she spoke was also what weighed heavily on the back of Faelene's mind. Unlike the many others she was holding her tongue. "We will," she answered in a steady tone. Never again, she silently thought would she live in chains. If to assure her, she bumped her shoulder to Delinne's and than let a wicked smirk play upon her muzzle.
In the distance a mare was giving orders, silver irises looked up to meet her King's. She could not see beneath the layers, and her attention went to more Unicorns who further gathered. The distant, pathetic excuses coming from the mare dragon's mouth would only fuel the fire. Rage pitied in her heart, smoldering with a longing to be released to cause destruction it desired. Mauja addressed them for their plan of action. Firmly she set her jaw, and made sure to set sight on their targets. The black unicorn mare caught her eye. Thin, short, and a pathetic horn. There was probably more than met the eye, and she would soon find out.
A shrill whinny trumpets from her ribcage after the Frostheart's own bugle. It builds to give her what she needs. The strength, courage and reckless fearlessness she would need for this battle.
There were spikes of ice in the distant, while the Ice King himself charged forward into the mist, she began to follow. Hooves left crescent marks against the moist ground, and she let the Pegasi play indirectly in her eye. She wasn't sure who wanted more blood among her kind. The rush of speed, the cool air brushed into her face, teasing at her crimson locks. If this was the last time she would run she wanted to make it count. After watching Alan make her way toward a painted one, Faelene, lowered her head, using her horn as her weapon, she put more speed into her limbs. The red mane's target could have appeared to be anyone ahead of her, even breaking in behind Mauja for the same equine. With a swerve, digging her hind legs forcefully into the ground it was in last second choice, she began barreling toward TARES instead. Long horned aim to maim a part of the young mares shoulder, if this failed, she would try to clash her body into hers with the force behind her run.
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R I C C I A R D O
The Sandman.
The thrill of battle dropped swiftly upon the flame-kissed brute's frame, bracing him with adrenaline that surged through his brawny muscles. It was not often that Ricciardo had needed to use battle tactics. Yet now, even as he stood upon the waves of trespassers that dared to cross the borders into the World's Edge, he was almost elated at the chance. For too long now the Sandman had bottled his anger to keep from shaming himself in the sights of his fellow herd members. It had been too long for everything, and now was his chance. With a thud of his front leg dagger against the hard terra firma, he twitched his crown to the right. With sand orbs blaring, he bared his teeth and began to pick his way out of the back of the mass.
Slowing down as he approached the invasion, he picked his victim. He saw that Mauja, that wretched Alan, and a few other herd members that remained unfamiliar to him were choosing theirs in various ways. He paid little attention to their moves, for he was about to enter a world of his own. The scenery of the beautiful Edge became a blur as he focused upon his opponent - Rishima. It was a femme that was a stranger to him, and seemed an unlikely target for the beast. But Ricciardo understood the urgency of the situation. It was better to quickly decide on the opponent for the sake of protecting his homeland than to waste time in the background of the battle. I will not cower.
The Orangemoon had been playing with his frame, making it far colder than the sand and sea-bred brute hoped, yet as he felt the adrenaline pulsing him through him, he felt the warmth it brought. Like a fire burning through him, it was glowing out of his pelt and emphasising the furnace building within him. His own pelt made of flame looked equally startling, as the cinders of his anger was reaching its peak. As much as he still believed that this was not truly his homeland yet, Ricciardo knew that it was his duty as a member of the Edge to protect his fellow herd members, and to keep the territory as their own. Too many strangers bore down on them to let this chance past, to prove his worth to both himself and the other herd members. Under his breath he muttered words of encouragement and rage notes to no one but himself, the deep tones of his voice were now rasping underneath the hyperventilating,
"For my herd, my home, myself. Never back down and remain true." he paused as he focused once again on his chosen victim, "The strong heroes are the ones that continue."
He stalked closer through the chaos that was the battleground, eyeing up his victim. All the others seemed of no interest to Ricciardo as he investigated. Short and fast, his pools came upon the one. The dark duchess seemed a worthy opponent, and he suddenly shot his whole display forward into a dance of menacing daggers. Stretching his neck up high, he let his crown do the work. The vixen seemed to possess no real weapon, she was not a winged, nor a horned. He spat with anger at her, orbs flaring. He spoke quietly to himself, with an almost somber, calm atmosphere surrounding him like a shroud. He noticed the bonded of the target, some kind of malformed bird-like creature that he did not recognise as any particular species. It seemed dangerous enough, but the flame-kissed brute knew that he couldn't back out of this now.
Whatever injuries that he would sustain, he would bear them with the knowledge that he had fought bravely. A bellowing war cry sounded from the bottom of his burly chest, deep and dark, sending shivers to what felt like even the surrounding nature, to Ricciardo. The sorrel felt that he and this trespasser were alone in their own brawl, if she decided to take his challenge further.
"So it begins..."
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Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE |
| RayoDeSoleil |
09-21-2012, 02:09 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-21-2012, 02:18 PM by Psyche.)
You can sleep with a gun but When you gonna wake up and fight?
A certain cool fury pooled deep in the shadow-mare, running easily through her veins, igniting her passion for this cause. These rats thought that they could simply join the Edge, the only holy land, as it were, for her race. As Psyche looked around her, she was pleased to see more fighters than she'd originally thought. Pride swelled now in her, mixing with her fury - pride in herself, in her race, in Mauja, in his herd. Despite all that had come between them, she knew that he was indeed a King, and his herd would follow him into battle and fight, hard, for the beliefs that they all shared in.
The ebony fae tossed her head, absorbing the FrostHeart's directions, but ignoring them nonetheless. It was useful to know who the herd would be targeting - but for her, the war had become far too personal to aim for such trivial creatures. Her own brother, fighting on their side - sure, he had always thought differently than Psyche and Giselle, but he had not turned on family. But then, why would he be any different than the rest of her kin? Her bloodline needed cleansing, desperately, and it appeared that Paladin would be the first to fall.
The first battle cry, and then the first line of attack leapt forward; Giselle paused only to shout out commands, as though she were in charge of Psyche. The shadow-mare's anger grew tenfold in that moment, and she longed to ignore her sister's demands; but there would be time for that later, and Giselle had created a good plan. A snort as her frame launched into motion, at first perpendicular to the line of battle, then swinging in a wide arc to get to Paladin's other side. A malicious grin: if Giselle wanted to be the first to approach Paladin, then let her - she would be the first to feel her blood boil.
Psyche's strides lengthened as she made her way into the thick of battle, doing her best to dodge through the chaos. Her amber gaze was focused on Paladin, though her auds swiveled constantly, seeking threats. She had metered her gaze perfectly; Giselle arrived before Psyche, and though the shadow-mare couldn't see if Giselle made contact, it was still an excellent decoy. Lowering her head, her gnarled, twisting horn aimed for PALADIN, she charged, resisting the urge to cry out. Better to be silent, better to sneak up on him, aim for his side, hope to rip his side open and watch his insides pool in the dust.
[W/C: 429]
Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think.
Psyche |
| Outcast |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: 8 Buff: NOVICE |
| imi |
Descaro watched as more souls declared themselves on the battlefield, happy that more of his comrades appeared than the allied Qian forces. Maybe they weren't dead meat after all. Although it was too early to be thinking thoughts like that. Mauja's words pierced the air as he announced their main targets and to attack as a group. That made sense, especially when one had advantage of terrain. A small but morbid smile cast itself onto the lips of the mahogany brute as his King ended his speech, Descaro didn't intend on dying on this battlefield against a disorganized rabble. He laid his ears back and roved his eyes over those from the Throat, these bastards had stolen his friend and the brute wasn't about to let them get away with it. He let a low, husky chuckle ripple from under his breath. The time was now. Time to put some bodies into the ground.
The King moved first, an up thrust of spikes aimed at the four commanding the rear. The advantage of his magic showing all its colours as it allowed their frosted leader to attack from long range. A skill to admire indeed as it also opened up the advantage of attacking another almost simultaneously, which is what the appaloosa steed did as he went for the young Aaron. Descaro snorted, this chessboard was unlike any he'd seen before. Normally one would place pieces on the board to protect their King. However, the ice monarch of the Worlds Edge was not really one to sit behind the lines and watch from a distance. Which is what the Qian leaders seemed to be doing right now.
One by one the defenders of the Edge began to move and defend their homes, each picking an opponent with horns bared. Descaro's heart stopped briefly as Alan charged straight for the leaders, the two deadly looking dragon creatures stood in her line of direction. The idiot! Mauja told us to avoid them! Mouth agape he was sure she had just charged to her death but suddenly the flighty bay veered off and aimed straight for the golden paint that stood a little way to the side. The Conscript sighed in relief and turned his attention back to the battlefield. Clearly Alan had more of a mind than he first thought. A flash of red caught his vision and captured his attention. He watched Faelene, her elegant horn low and dangerous. Descaro turned his eyes on the Phantasm's target and bolted off in the same direction, he was only slightly taller than his comrade but towered over the little Tares. Something about the obsidian femme before him reminded the steed of Iris, was this her daughter? His expression darkened as he remembered the image of Iris and Voltiac. If this truly was their daughter, Descaro felt no guilt charging at her now. He could not and would drown any emotion. Those feelings would only hinder him. This was Tares's own decision to face the Edge in battle.
Faelene appeared to have aimed her horn for the shoulder, her long and twisted branch looked deadly. Descaro pounded his hooves harder into the ground, a toned front end stretching out further. The incredible stride powered by the bulk of his hind end. His horn was not lowered like his comrade's however, instead Descaro went for sheer power. Commit yourself. He gritted his teeth in determination and attempted to power the weight of his body into Tares's right side, hoping his brute strength would be enough to unbalance the Throat Soldier. "Let's finish her quickly, Faelene!" He cried to the red head before bolting a short way, allowing himself some space to construct his next attack or defence.
Blood pumped at a rapid rate around his body and the beat of his heart drummed inside his dark lobes. Turn. Think. Fight. The words chanted in the vaults of his mind, the rhythm keeping him calm and allowing the steed to think. It was still early on and this Throat child may not be all she seems. Fur bunched together on his neck as he made the sharpest turn the bulk of his body would allow, oculars snapping to his opponent and comrade. Worried for Faelene's safety but eager to see the extent of the damage they had made. Soon the air would be full of the screams of battle and the stench of blood. The stallion just hoped their forces would be efficient in their attacks and remember the teamwork Mauja had commanded.
[w/c: 758]
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| World's Edge Protector atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 6 Years HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Alanna :: Common Hellhound :: Energy Drain
Emily |
With shouts and calls, the battle began. One glance around told of the magic some members of the Edge held. Five pillars of ice burst up from the ground where the leaders and a few others stood. He quickly looked away, knowing he had to focus. The knight moved slightly forward, staying close to Paladin and Achibald. He was touched by how protective the large stallion was. As the unicorns of the Edge began to charge, it was only then Aaron realized he was one of the first to be targeted. The Ice King himself began to charge right for him. Aaron pawed the ground, his body tensing up to move. Dark Mahogany eyes just watched as the lead of the Edge took him as a target. Did he really think the youngster as that much of a threat, or just trying to pick out the weakest first? Either way, Aaron was ready for him.
The close the king got, the angrier Aaron became at the fact the spotted one picked him. That anger, he used to awaken his own magic just as he had defending the Pegasus mare on the beach. With deadly focus Aaron used his magic to make the Ice King think he was on fire…. Well to anyone looking the stallion would look to actually be on fire. However the fire itself was only an illusion. The pain however would not be. With a smirk the brown and white draft leaped to the right side avoiding the head on charge, his own head snaking around to try and bite Mauja’s left flank. With the momentum of the leap Aaron turned to face the Ice King, ready for the next attack. This was not exactly what the young warrior had in mind when he had joined the forces coming to invade. He could only thank his mother, for all her teaching in both the Oasis and the Foothills. She had prepared him for this… Now he wanted to make her proud.
Word Count: 334
Korra thrilling to think, poor child of sin - it was the dead who groaned within
Mauja’s voice resonated clearly through her mind, the only sound she was able to hear over the sound of her blood roaring through her veins. Her fiery gaze shifted between the appointed targets, muscles flexing visibly under her raw skin. Though small of stature, the garron was pure, refined muscle under her shaggy coat, and a cunning mind as well. This was what she had been born to do, the adrenaline pumping harder for every passing moment. Tossing her head in impatience, the savage kept her eye on her king next to her, ready to move whenever he would give his signal. Ice spikes thrusted up from the ground in the midst of the enemy, and when Mauja charged, Korra uttered a hoarse, shrill battle-cry of her own before lunging forward next to the marbled frostheart.
Chaos ensued all around, but she blocked it out, moving with a surprising agility and surefooted steps to the painted youth in her crosshair. Suddenly, the figure running next to her seemed to catch fire, flames engulfing her king compltely. She did not halt, if she did, she would possibly suffer the same destiny. Instead she leapt to the side powerfully, approaching AARON just as he was focused upon burning the king. When the bicolored youth leapt to the side to avoid Mauja’s charging horn, he chose the side on which Korra was coming closer. The softness of his barrel stretched out in front of her, like a canvas waiting to be painted red. Knife-sharp antlers were aimed directly at the colt’s side, and she hoped to rip open his side all up the belly, from his flank to his chest. She kept her head low, so should he want to chomp at her face, all he would get would be a mouthful of those same antlers.
Without hesistating, she flung her back hooves at AARON’s hindlegs, hoping to land a blow forceful enough to shatter his cannon bone, the most fragile part of the leg. The youth was of heavy heritage, which could potentially spare him from some of the intended harm, but the barbarian did not stop to analyze. She was closer to him than she liked, but the closeness could also be an advantage; from where she was standing, he would have to move away to aim a proper kick at her, and that would give her time to dodge his little antics.
The smell of blood filled her nostrils, lobes pinned firmly down her neck as she landed on the ground, spinning on the spot to face flank of the young stallion. This time, she bowed her head, aiming her sharp antlers for the softness of his barrel. Yes, he was not much more than a child, but this was war; if he was big enough to get himself into a battle, he must be ripe to die.
[475 words]
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| World's Edge Skilled Protector |
| Stallion :: Hybrid :: 19 hh :: 9 years Buff: NOVICE |
| Kachie |
They gathered to her call, Qian and Foothills and Throat and Edge. Three groups linked by alliance against the fourth. Golden eyes studied the unicorns who accumulated amongst the forest's outskirts to stand against the gathered forces, pupils narrowed as he appraised them coldly. His ears tilted at the sound of familiar, feminine voices, dimly listening to the instructions shouted out. Distantly acknowledging them with only the slow sway of his tail. He hadn't a problem with lingering near his mate and the center of the the forward lines, but found it pointless to have these instructions given out now, last minute and before their opponents. He knew that the plans would only work until the moment passed from tension-wrought waiting into adrenaline-fueled battle. Then all would dissolve into smaller battles.
That moment came sooner than some would have been expecting, led by magic and its worker. Spears of ice lanced upward from the ground, one erupting between the towering steed and his dragon-formed Weyrleader. His ears swept back and he shouldered roughly into the ice, listening to it crackle beneath his weight. Another shot up on his other side, clipping his right wing hard enough to bruise but not enough to break. His leftward movement had allowed him to escape getting his wing speared, and he kicked out at that pinnacle of ice, ignoring the small pain. He could have melted either with a breath of flame, but found more satisfaction in listening to them break beneath the blows he delivered instead.
He was aware of the presence of three other pinnacles of towering ice, but was more focused on the unicorns that raced forward. Most surged past, for targets on either side of the center group, but one drove in toward Torasin, on the other side of Mirage. "Kiara!" His eyes latched on the red roan who stood behind and to his left. "Aid Torasin." His gaze softened only when it shifted to Mirage. "I go to aid the Foothills."
He had not missed the flux of unicorns that charged the small group there, including the FrostHeart. He surged away from the fractured ice that had risen around him, trusting the ebon mare turned golden dragon to fill in for him when so many of the Edge didn't even bother to attack there. Heavy trot shifted into rolling canter as he crossed before the Qian's front line and barreled after his foe. His eyes were for KORRA, and the antlered unicorn would only have the vibrating of the ground as warning before the DragonSon was towering over her with maw agape to display razor-sharp fangs, ready to bite down on the back of her neck as she moved to charge the young painted stud who faced off against the FrostHeart. Even if he didn't bite her successfully, the mare would be hard pressed to avoid Vikram's charge... and all of the weight behind the hybrid that towered easily over her.
[492 words]
Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
| Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath
Chan |
He was as ready as he could be, and in the agonizing moments before the charge he found himself struggling with a fear that grasped for his throat and tried to suck the moisture from the mouth. Breathing deeply Lace looked around, took notice of the position of the sun as it lowered over the sky. It reached the treetops now, and would soon dive down beneath them and lay the battlefield in shadows. Would the fight draw out into the night? He prayed that it would end before that, so that he wouldn't have to battle with poor visibility among trees in a foreign land.
A battle cry tore from the throat of a stallion and rang out across the sparsely forested borderland. It cut through the air like a trumpet and in its wake followed a surge of movement as both sides moved in on each other. Through the eyes of the dragon Lace noticed how the defenders were somewhat quicker to react - they were the first ones to reach an opponent, but soon enough that would change. Soon everyone would be engaged in a fight for survival, for glory and for land, for beliefs and revenge and simply for the fun of it.
Nostrils flared, feet trampled. He felt bodies closing in on him and carry him forward through the allied forces, faster as more and more soldiers became engaged in combat. He didn't resist, only altered his course according to Fajira's instructions to reach a place where he was needed - ready to aid anyone who seemed outnumbered, prepared to take on any opponent. Soon enough, an opportunity arose to aid and with a deep breath and steady grip on his nerves the grullo gathered speed, dug black hooves deep into the soft earth to find traction. Wiry muscles swelled as he thundered forth in a swift but controlled gallop, ducking and veering for the battling figures around him. Honey-colored eyes narrowed upon spotting KORRA aim the sharp antlers toward the side of a young warrior that was already engaged in combat.
Lace picked up the pace, laying all the force and the entire bulk of his healthy body into a leap that carried him forward, intending to slam into the left side of the shorter warrior. She looked sturdy, but he had the force of momentum on his side to make up for it. Where she was broad he was tall, his longer legs gave him better reach - but then there were those antlers, that effectively protected the neck and ears. He would have to watch out for those, stay close to her body and aim for back, withers, flank and legs at the best of his ability.
Hoping that his charge would bring her out of balance or at least distract her enough to forget about the colt, Lace quickly regained his balance and reared, allowing the momentum to carry him to the right and forward so that he ended up right behind her rump - or if she turned, by her side. Blunt ivories bared, the silver knight snapped towards the ragged mare in hope of capturing flesh, scrape through the skin of the dock (or the whithers) of his opponent.
In his mind he felt the dragon seethe and coil, blood-thirsty and eager to join in. He held her back. Not yet, might need you in a better place still. The order was sharp and absentminded, the stallion distracted by the opponent before him and the deafening clamor that was battle. His blood pumped quickly and provided necessary warmth to aid movement, though still the muscles felt cold, the coat dry. He had yet to feel the scorching heat of anger and pain and there were no blood dripping down the metallic hide. Not yet, but soon it would come. Was it a sign of madness, that he longed for it?
[Word Count: 651]
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♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden
| Deceased |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 8 |
| imi |
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there's no such thing as heroes
From his vantage point, Torasin looked out across the field. Their adversary would have the advantage, defending could be so much more easier than invading. All the unicorn force would have to do was knock down enough of their enemy to drive them from the land. However, an invading force had to crack the enemy line and fight their way into the land. Terrain would not be to their advantage either, traps may of been set or ambushers positioned. This was not going to be a walk in the park. He laid his ears back as more of the Edge showed itself, not expecting their numbers to be so large. Not a walk in the park indeed.
King Mauja had made his speech and appeared to be on the move. However what he didn't expect was the first attack to be aimed straight for them. The ground moved beneath his hooves and before he knew it spikes of gigantic ice towered up out of the earth and into the air. Torasin struggled on the uneven surface as his legs bolted skywards, struggling to maintain his rear as the ground rumbled under him. The paint felt the rush of the wind and the smack of the ground as his unbalance took him to the floor. A sharp pain throbbing the inside of his left leg, the area he hadn't managed to pull away from the ice in time. It took concentration, the steed lay on the ground with his eyes closed and allowed the magic to flow through him and into the wound. Quickly, the blood stopped and the cut was no more than a scar now. Get up and find the others! Torasin grimaced and rose to his feet once more. However, he wasn't allowed a single moments rest.
Kiba trilled in a harsh warning and Torasin turned to catch the appearance of ALAN. Shit, shit, shit! It was all happening too fast, the paint almost fell over himself sidestepping out of the way of her body and horn. The fall from the ice attack, using his magic and now being charged at, Torasin really did feel disorientated. Luckily for the frilly steed he had a rather idiotic and angered dragon who sent a barrage of claws snapping towards the retreating end of ALAN. Screaming his complete outrage soon after as Tor shook himself and regained some composure. The brown was not using his flames right away, he was still just a babe after all. Those beginners flames of his were not complete nor could he use them for long, all the more reason to save them for later.
"Kiara! Aid Torasin."
The rumble of Vikram's voice entered his golden lobes as he realized for the first time what a state he must look to be in. Although he did appreciate the help. With Kiara aiding him and combined with Kiba, they'd make a team hard to beat. First thing first though, get rid of this witch who though it wise to charge straight for them. He moved quickly, hoping that Kiara had made her way to him, and charged after ALAN. Wishing to the heavens and above that his speed combined with Kiba's claw attack was enough to allow himself the time to gain the ground to counter with a flying buck, angled to the side and aimed for her barrel. Hooves lashing out with the momentum from his run. His front legs took the impact from slowing his speed as vibrations ran through his muscles, causing Torasin to wince in pain. Keep... Going. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to complete attack, Kiba having flown skyward.
Hoping the target had been hit, his rear hooves struck the ground and sent another shock through his body. The healer was breathing heavily and knowing full well he could only heal himself once more. Even then, using that power now would be foolish. He needed it for others. A nagging need stole over him to look behind and check to see if Mirage was okay. However, Torasin held his concentration and instead offered a thought.
Come back to us alive, Milady.
[w/c : 691]
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olympic-ferro.deviantart.com | night-fate-stock.deviantart.com | art by alais-photography.deviantart.com
Kri the Resolute Posts: 243
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3hh :: 10 Buff: NUMB |
| Boom Boom! |
K R I the R E S O L U T E
it's not the petty imperfections that define us, but the way we hold our hearts.
As quickly as I exhale, the battle had started, yet I do not fall into the wave of assails. Instead, I make myself useful by shooting further in the sky, out of the reaches of blasted horns and mouths, and let my dark eyes watch the scene unfold. I watch with amusement as a pair of unicorns break off to attack a singular target, ganging up on them quickly. My sharp eyes watch each movement like a hawk, noting how one such pair heads toward Paladin, even as another such pair edges toward Aaron. My first instinct is to aid the younger stallion, yet I can easily see my allies moving in to help.
Shoving down the distaste in my throat for helping such a self-righteous bastard, I tilt my wings and push hard in the direction of PALADIN, for he is my ally and brethren here on the battle field. The first mare, GISELLE, abruptly calls out her target's name, which I find to be little but child's play in distraction. I do not bother with her body, but aim to collide instead with the side of the other mare sneaking her way toward the leader of the Foothills, a malicious look in her eyes. My large brown feathers tilt in the air, catching a nice stream downward. I plunge my front legs forward, extended like blunt knives, as I aim for the midsection of PSYCHE.
With any luck, I would beat her in speed, knock into her barrel upon the left side. The speed which carries me through the air would likely lead to a puncturing of her skin, but even if my hooves were to graze, they would hopefully knock her off balance in her mid-stride charge, allowing Paladin to deal with the bitch who would have his attention. As I meet the cross of PSYCHE's back, I stretch out my neck and snap with open jaws toward her neck, hoping to tear out some flesh, and at the very least some mane. The pain would distract her, and I could easily fly away with no worries of Paladin getting hurt. I found myself marveling that it was odd - my want to protect another who I did not care for, but within the din of battle, our heartbeats were the same. We were allies. We were kin. I would protect him at all costs.
Judging by the fact that best case scenarios never played out, I was expecting this invasion to cost me dearly.
[ WC: 418; Round Two; 0/2 Magic uses; ]
Venomxbaby, EveLivesey, humblebeez and ali00p
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Arabella stood perfectly still next to Alan, awaiting orders. Her breathing was slow and deep as she stared straight forward eyeing up The Qian. "Ready for this, sweetheart?" She gulped and gave a very brief nod. The leader finally spoke, giving out orders. Let us be like a tidal wave, like a landslide, a wolf pack - merciless, together the words echoed in her head. This was going to be a hell of a fight. Alan curled herself around Arabella fidgeting in anticipation of what was about to come. The King was silent for a moment. Without warning, huge spikes rose from the ground on the enemy’s side, encasing some of the horses, then the king himself led the charge. Alan, after giving a piercing whinny, raced after him, and completely ignoring the leaders warning, ran straight into the middle of the battle. Was she crazy?! Well, probably.
Arabella had taken too much time watching the other head into battle and was still stationary. Everyone else had gotten the targets that the king had asked, so she quickly sought out a herd mate in need of some help. There. The mare sprang into a gallop, heading to help out a stocky, bay unicorn with antlers. She could not do anything about the tall, dragon-like creature that loomed over the small mare, but hope to distract him as she set her sights for a steel coloured equine.
Arabella leant down her neck so it was same height as her back, and so that her sharp horn was pointed straight forwards. Travelling at top speed, she aimed her horn for the stallion’s outer thigh, just above his knee. If she did not hit his leg, then the mare was sure she would manage to pierce another part of his body.
[Attacking LACE]
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3 :: 8 |
| Epona |
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Suddenly, the silence of waiting ended. The battle crashed into life. Great spears of ice tore out of the ground by the dark leader of the Qian, a dark magic from their enemy. Leander lifted into the air, not wanting to wait around for the spikes to strike up again. He scanned the fray briefly as he ascended, bronze eyes finding a sight he wished they hadn't. The image would be branded into his mind; the sight of Faelene rushing into war. For a moment, all he could do was stare breathless. She was a part of the Edge? In their meeting in the Arch, she had not mentioned what herd she hailed from. A faint, sorrowful call emanated from his throat, but was lost in the chaotic noise below. He wanted to stop her, to turn her around, tell her to run. But it would be useless. She was fighting for her home. Silently, he pulled his eyes off of her midnight form. Gods protect her. Frustration, utter anger filled his sooty chest as he found his target.
The ivory Ice King was charging straight for a younger draft. The young paint was also being aimed for by a shaggy antlered mare. Some of his fellow allies were heading for the mare, but the Edge King was left uncovered. Mahogany wings tilted, sending Leander down towards MAUJA. He came out of the sky slightly behind the monarch, wanting to avoid the brute's damned horn at all cost. He tensed his brawny form, aiming to slam his shoulder into Mauja's side, hard. If the hit connected, it would likely take the King off guard, since he was already dealing with Aaron. The weight of Leander's shoulder would be heavy, especially with the reinforced speed of his descent. It might also send Leander to the ground if he hit the Frostheart full on. But the winged palomino wouldn't mind landing hard if it meant he'd hurt the white beast. Why would Faelene follow such a monster? Fury burned within him as he poised the attack. Take out the leader, the foundation, and the rest would likely fall to pieces.
(word count: 362)
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The battle began and one after another bodies collided, horns locked, blows landed, blood ran. The small stallion's ears tilted forward, straining for the sound of someone coming his way, but there was naught but the sounds of fighting and the scream of names. A mare screams Paladin's name and Ned turns his head in her direction, already seeing the dark mare coming for Paladin. But there is another one coming when he looked the other way. Did she think that her movement would go unnoticed? Did she think that everyone would be far too caught up in their own fights to defend their own brethren? The mare was a fool if she did.
Muscles coiled tight as springs under the stallion's scarred white hide. Without the utterance of a single word he launched himself in PSYCHE's direction. Paladin would have to worry about the other mare that attacked from the other side. He would take care of the other.
Solid hooves thundered across the terrain as he charged the dark mare. His head lowered and with eyes as cold as the grip of death itself he angled his head at PSYCHE's side so that the bladed edge of his horn would lay waste to the flesh that protected muscle and bone.
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| Absent Abyss atk: 6.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 8 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 18.3 hh :: 10 years HP: 80 | Buff: SHIELD |
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Loretta :: Alaskan Malamute :: Time Slip
Time |
The battle erupted around Archibald and it made his heart flame. Blood pounded in his ears as he watched the unicorns assemble to guard their home. Archibald stood strong with his allies, tail swishing behind him in growing anger as the leaders all had their speeches. With the closing of the Ice King all hell broke loose. Unicorns rushed in and the others started their defenses. The giant's golden eyes darted to each of the equines Mauja had picked out as targets. Anger flared through the black when the king ran towards Aaron. Coward, he though, picking out a child. You are a weakling, and I will end you.
Archibald pushed forward on white hooves, the massive, fur-covered daggers pressing into the soft earth. Before Archibald could reach the Frostheart Aaron retaliated and another horse moved in. Archibald turned his head and watched an antlered mare move in on Aaron. Archibald swung around quickly, but too slow. Another came in to aid the young painted draft. Relief flooded Archibald and he turned the opposite way, watching people go in for his leader. Gritting his teeth Archibald watched Ned go after one of the mares. Archibald knew Paladin could handle himself against one now that the other was taken care of. Sweeping his gaze again Archibald thundered towards an advancing unicorn.
As the giant picked up speed his body became an incredible weapon ready to throw each of the smaller Edge members out of his way and into submission. His golden eyes narrowed as his muscles tensed, ready for impact. His sights were set on ARABELLA. The shire coiled his muscles as his hooves drew him closer to her. He was coming from her side, hoping to catch her off guard as she advanced towards the silver equine. Archibald tucked his chin and lowered his head, ears pinning back against his neck. The mammoth ran forward and turned his body just in the nick of time. His large shoulder jutted out, hoping to knock into the smaller mare's rib cage and break her stride--possibly even knock her off of her own hooves.
[Archibald gallops towards ARABELLA and tries to slam his shoulder into her rib cage. | WC: 352 | Magic: 0/2]
"Speak"
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GreenHammock.deviantart.com | PirateLotus-Stock.deviantart.com | SephirothXer0-Stock.deviantart.com | by: Time
| Hidden Falls Curiosus II |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 hh :: 15 Buff: NOVICE |
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Dezba :: Black Jaguar :: Stormcall
Ina |
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Sound of war surrounded the Friesian and she watched as her herdmates started to attack the others. The blue orbs of hers observed each member, watching as the blood spilled on the dirty ground. Faelene attacked a black unicorn mare together with a stallion Dell didn't recognize. But since he didn't attack Faelene, she guessed that he was one of the warriors belonging to the Edge.
This was wrong. This wasn't the way she fought. One and one, maybe three pairs of eyes against one horn as well. But never four whole herds attacking each other.
The mare looked out over the field of war, and saw a familiar face among the coldblooded murderers. 'Lace!' She widened her eyes in shock for a moment, before the tone in the eyes changed to something else. Betrayer.
The stallion that had been nice to her, changed her opinion about stallions for once - he was now an enemy to fight. But the small dragon next to him made her sad. She couldn't attack Fajira.
Dell looked around for her King, and found him fighting with a young draft while being attacked by a pegasus. He would make it. He would survive. Right?
Once again she turned her head to watch every fight that played out here, and a white, horned stallion caught her eyes. Her eyes lighted up as if they looked straight at lightning, and with a scream she headed for NED. He attacked a unicorn that she had seen inside the Edge-area and her eyes turned even darker.
Her black horn were pointed against him, pointed so if it hit it's target - it would impale him. The mare ran as fast as she could to him, wanting to see his blood running down the easily spiraled horn. She wanted to taste his red fluid.
Suddenly, a vision appeared in her mind. Herself attacking a stallion that had tried to mount her when she slept. She kept that vision in her head to encourage her.
This was so wrong. But it still felt so right...
Word count: 345
OCC: -
Attack: Delinne attacking Ned from the side, hoping that her horn will wound him strongly.
Walk, walk, walk.
"Talk, talk, talk."
'Think, think, think.'
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