The plaguing, bellicose calls of war drummed against her ears, but all she could visualize, see, witness, was the limp, unconscious form of RISHIMA by her feet. Had she committed this act, this strange, sinful atrocity? How far would she go now, for her brethren, for her newfound family? Would she continue to scour the earth in a blinding, seizing rage for them? Demolish for them? Devastate for them? Die for them? Her blazing, ferocious heart gleamed from triumph and sank with sorrow, and she wasn’t sure which one would win out in this anarchic, lawless labyrinth. Her gaze settled upon the crashing battlefield, took in the surrounding clusters of swarming, clashing bodies, some comrades, some intruders, and pondered over how and where to bestow her newfound freedom. Without the former beast driving against her frame, dear Lena was allotted the option to choose her next opponent, to free another patriot from the binds of torture and agony. Her stare searched, rigid and heartless, no warmth kindled in the once compassionate slits, finally deciding upon lending aid to DESCARO.

Though her limbs ached, though her sides trembled with torment, she harried onward, towards the individuals scraping and tearing against her bay herd mate. She unfurled her own savage lament, strong, divine, bold, audacious and persevering in the infested world of campaigns and crusades, pinpointing her movements towards TARES. The familiar hue of FAELENE told her she was attempting to flank LEANDER, so Lena’s pursuit segmented upon the ebon invader. While TARES was distracted by her own assault upon DESCARO, the slender nymph and swan, ferocious, saw the dripping wound upon TARES’S left stifle, opting to segment her precision upon that weakened sector. She aimed higher, lowering her horn and driving it forward towards the mare’s left haunch, then swung it towards her flank, hoping to slash, puncture and lacerate.

[Having knocked out RISHIMA, Lena searches for another target. Finding DESCARO in a desperate situation, Lena opts to go for TARES, driving her horn towards her left haunch, then swinging it along her flank while the intruder is distracted.]

Table by Alex


       A jolt was sent through his body as his hooves connected with flesh and muscle. His hit, though it jolted his small body, did not have the power behind it that he had hoped it would. He did not give up the hope that despite the lack of power, it would leave the mare's shoulder bruised and aching and would hinder her movement. Once she was effectively slowed down it would be easy to end her and leave her nothing more than a bleeding, broken corpse on the battle ground. Just another casualty of war that only few would mourn in the end. Such was the inevitability of being a soldier.

As he turned on the mare he realized his mistake and steeled himself for the kick he saw coming. It was too late to dodge it so he turned more into the kick and threw his body forward so her hooves would hit lower on his body, and they did hit with a solid thunk against his chest. His breath caught in his throat as his muscles seized and spasmed under the force of her kick.

PSYCHE wasted no time in getting away from him. The moment her hooves were on the ground again he could hear her thundering away. Despite the ache in his chest and he weariness that was beginning to set in the stallion forced himself into moving. His right shoulder, an injury he had sustained from a previous battle, plagued him now as did his chest. His muscles were beginning to feel tight, but he steeled his mind against the pain and discomfort he was beginning to feel. That mattered little now. The only thing that mattered was catching PSYCHE and incapacitating her.

And so Ned lurched forward, slowly at first but the more he moved the more his tightening muscles began to feel a bit more loose. As he neared Psyche his head lowered, his bladed horn pointed right at the back of her left thigh where he hoped to sink his blade through flesh and into the muscle where he could slice tendons and leave her leg essentially useless. He was prepared for her to kick at him and if she should a simple dodge to the left would leave him out of range of her deadly hooves.

[Word Count: 385

Turned more in to Psyche's kick and threw his body forward so her hooves would hit his chest rather than his throat. Was left stunned and momentarily breathless at the force of her kick. As she ran he began to feel the weariness of the battle and his tightening muscles setting in. This spurred him into motion, which was slow at first, but he gained momentum as he moved. Aims to stab Psyche in the back of her left thigh and hopes to leave her leg useless. Should she kick at him he is prepared to dodge to the left, away from her hooves.]

Theatricality and deception are powerful agents.
You must become more than just a man
in the mind of your opponent

The best defense is a good offense.

A sweeping amount of confidence had started to fill him once MIRAGE had returned to her equine form. His defense morphed into a counter-attack, he had squared back up to his swarthy opponent and blew a cloud of ash to swallow her face. He meant to keep coming, raining hellish limbs down like a cage over a wild animal. Keep her contained and if the opportunity presented itself, he would end this invasion with one fell stroke. Everyone knew that if you severed the head of the snake, the body died. But then VIKRAM interrupted and quickly deflated his moment of buoyancy. Dragons had so many weapons at their disposal and he didn’t have experience fighting them until now, after crossing Helovia’s Threshold.

Unfortunately his horn missed VIKRAM’s wing and the hybrid would still be able to take flight and attack from above like Akaith. Cineviam couldn’t even spare a second to dwell on that disappointment because as soon as his vision cleared of the copper VIKRAM, he saw MIRAGE (a battering ram in the disguise of a mare that had masqueraded as a dragon) was stubbornly charging him down a third time. He had hoped that the ash would have debilitated her for a couple more seconds but he would need to deal with her quickly. He didn’t want to be double-teamed by her and her mate.

The soot-stained stallion had not fully reared and since he was already descending, there was only a foot between his front hooves and the ground when she struck his side. Under normal circumstances he would have bet that their weight difference (Cineviam being the heavier of the two) and his close proximity to the dirt would have meant that he would need to take her charge full force, but that she would never succeed at knocking him to the ground. However, his right hind leg had already suffered repeated abuse so when MIRAGE collided with him, it gave out and he felt his weight teeter in that direction. In desperation his coiled left hind leg straightened, forcing him higher in the air while his back arched and ribs twisted, bringing his front end into the direction of the fall to save himself.

Since her attack wasn’t entirely successful (Cineviam was still standing) meant MIRAGE had to go with her back up plan, cantering to a spot several metre’s away. Three legs had scrambled to right himself while the fourth dangled uselessly and Cineviam took a moment to test it before pursuing. It was weak, useless to kick but could still bear his weight. He hadn’t thought to where VIKRAM had gone, neither had he seen the coppery dragon hybrid approaching. Cineviam didn’t wait for his surprise; he had turned and started to chase after VIKRAM’s girlfriend. The stream of fire scorched his retreating rump and he hissed with pain as it throbbed – nerves firing off angry protests. The burns he received from the Sun God had been spread out over his neck and shoulder, this time he had just the one large burn near the base of his tail. But the hot ache the delved deep into muscle was the same.

The devil lingered in those red eyes as they zeroed in on MIRAGE.

All he saw was red in the haze of his anger, he loosed a great bellow. Her boyfriend might have saved her from his methodical attack style but he had spurred Cineviam into a reckless violence. He wanted to inflict as much pain onto her as he felt. He charged like a bull, path arching out wide before plunging in toward her side. Head swung left just before he reached MIRAGE and then he braced his jaw and used every muscle in his neck to fling it to the right. Aiming to open MIRAGE up from shoulder to hip – or if she is trying to evade him, whatever expanse of body is closest. He does not stop there, for he no longer cares for retaliation and he keeps coming. Head lowered close to his knees as he followed the black mass in front of him like a heat missile (Cineviam has lost all awareness of the position of her body, he doesn’t care). Then he tossed his head heavenward as if he could toss her like a ragdoll or like a raging bull tossing a Matador.

Then he canters away, red eyes seeking VIKRAM but the dragon hybrid is at the other end of battlefield near Mauja. His head start to clears as he stops and looked back to MIRAGE; the pain begins seeping back into his awareness and he wonders if this is done.