the Rift


so i wield an iron fist | dröm challenge

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
#1

i thought i saw
the devil this morning
looking in the mirror

Kaj had expected dissent. He had prepared himself for bitterness, backlash and brutality. To a degree he was prepared to let some of it slide, the vile words and hateful glances he was sure to garner from the majority. No matter that he'd offered to allow them to stay, their stupid pride kept them from that. The primordial parts of Kaj simply could not understand their desires to outcast themselves, rather than flourish beneath his rule. As they would, clearly, if his forces had been the ones trained well enough to win. It was a frustration he had to deal with, a burden of guilt alongside it on his mighty shoulders. Retaliation had also been expected, but Kaj would not allow that to happen, to slide by unpunished. He would not be displayed into an inadequate Czar; there would be no leeway or forgiveness in attempts against him or his herd. Without Kahlua there to temper the two brutes ruling the Falls, Kaj had quickly grown to decide that the Falls would not have the same problems with throwing around their weight that the Edge had. Yes, they would preach their peace, pride themselves on diplomacy. But his soldiers would rise to the forefront with experience, with confidence. There was little doubt in his mind that Archibald would agree, and with Ktulu at the head of their forces, the Falls was in for an awakening.

So Kaj took his mantle with pride and purpose, and with a few words more growled than spoken to Archibald, Kaj had launched himself to the skies in pursuit of the mousy mare who had so soon attempted to steal him from his new flock. He would show no mercy, no compliance. There was to be no quarter for movement anymore. Kaj would set the floor, lead as example for his herd and his warriors that the Falls was to be weak and malleable no longer. They molded the stone of the land, and they would be made of it as well.

His pursuit of her was swift, resting only when his body demanded it. Though he yearned to put her in her place, as he had when Tonka had acted on Azale Moniet, Kaj would not wear out his body attempting to find her. Her last known location was all his Illusors could offer him, but it was enough. Kaj had voice enough for miles, and he would not let her escape the consequences of her actions even if he had to track and hound her across the continent. He would be relentless, and she would fall before him either in battle or in the stamina she had for fleeing him.

Knightly figure dropped from the sky, massive wings spread wide and trunk-like earthen legs shouldering the impact as he graced the earth. Nippy autumn wind tugged at his mane, and a flash of sky in his peripherals gave him further heart. Cirrus was there beside him, a symbol, and an encouragement. He was proving himself to more than just his family and the thief. An out-of-place smile stretched across his lips for a brief moment. He would show them all.

A symphony of battle cascaded from his lips from powerful longs, shaking his chest with his own vibrato as head cocked back to deliver his challenge to the skies. He would stand on equal ground with her, if only to prove that he did not need his superior blood to defeat her. “FACE ME, THIEF!” he bellowed, the lion roaring its freedom as it leapt from the cage it had been chained inside for so long. Peace had no realm to keep him captured within, on the battlefield. There was no quivering-lipped Kahlua to beg him to see mercy and facsimiles of justice. Kaj would show her the true strength of the new Falls. He would show her everything she had abandoned. And so he would also show the thief what dangers she had decided to play with when she’d targeted him. She had fled the invasion once; Kaj would not allow her to run once more.



Kaj is challenging @[Dröm] for her freedom, after her stealth attempt on him here! If Kaj wins the challenge, he will take Dröm prisoner.

Setting: Expanse of field outside of the Falls, between it and the Meadow. Long, brittle grasses, mild cold wind, afternoon.

Word Count: {684/800}
Attack: {0/4}

Image Credit
Code: Time & Neo

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

Dröm Posts: 114
Hidden Account atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Equine :: 14.3hh :: 5 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
baylee
#2
Dröm ♞
He was a sturdy stallion of about seven, and her eyes were glued on him, watching cautiously. Though she is very little, she is fierce. She had come as a single spy, nothing near a battalion, yet her passion and dedication may just make her as strong as one. The siren-like warrior calls to her, though she is not afraid. His voice is tempting her forwards and without second thought, she is gracefully walking towards him. Soon, though, claws will be unleashed and she will have to fight for her life, her freedom, and in that respect he embodies a siren wholly.

He stands like a wall, unmoving and unmovable. She stops a good distance away, about six or seven canter strides away from him. Dröm knows well why she is here. The girl trembles now, afraid of him and what he will do to her. She is frail now, bones protruding and hide dull. Her ivory markings are darkened with dirt and grime, now an unappealing grey. Her cracked and dry lips do not move, as she has no reply for the brute that has called out to her- the thief.

She tried to recall her motive to steal the stallion, but nothing came to mind. There was no motive. Ridiculous that may sound, yet there has never been a statement truer. The rise of emotions pent up within the gold mare had finally climaxed and in a haze of an outstanding variety of emotions, she had attempted to steal a stallion King.

Her brows furrowed for a moment, and she wondered if the king was truly going to challenge her. It would surely be an easy win for him, considering her malnurited state. In fact, it may be too easy. Could Dröm end up dead? Caramel gaze falls to the ground, heavy in thought. She wondered silently if they could conjure up some sort of deal. Surely his herd mates would think him foul for using a short, underweight, Arabian as a punching bag.

Her ears remained forwards and her lips were pressed into a hard line as her gaze sought his once more. The stallion radiated power, and she was sure that if he ordered 'sit', her ass would be on the ground in a matter of seconds. Maybe she was more suceptible to meeting his demands now that her health was on the line, for she'd never have previously been so easily ordered around. Not even Midas would've been able to order around. No one had that leverage, no one but this challenger.

She fidgeted awkwardly, wanting to say something but at the same time wanting to stay so quite that it's as if she isn't there at all. Everything around them fell silent, and the mare even held her breath. This could be called the calm before the storm, but she was left to wonder, 'Is this a regular rainstorm or a tornado heading straight for me?'

"If in your desires you seek blood, then it is mine you will surely get, for I have no strength nor knowledge of war to fend you off. I am the farthest thing from a fighter, I only seek to heal, serve the gods as a Storyteller, or perhaps craft. I don't, can't, fight. I hate fighting, I despise fighting. Fighting is cruel, especially since the main goal is to injure, harm, damage, kill your opponent. It's--" She grew quieter and quieter with each word until she just stopped talking altogether. At a loss for words, she just closed her eyes and shook her head, disappointed. Not in her challenger,not in warriors, in herself. She seemed to be on the opposing side of everything. She had grown worn out, always resisting everything. She'd never gone with the flow. "Nevermind," she added quietly. She wouldn't expect him to understand her, no one could. Why would someone who seeks blood and war understand her point of view? Tiredly, she changed her stance to a defensive one and waited for the brute to attack.

OOC: Dröm appears, says a few words, then waits. You may have first attack :) also, Dröm's in a weird mood if you can't tell xp @[Kaj]
Attack: 0/4
Words: 681
"chatting."
shoot for the s t a r s
Image Credit
[Image: 53d6f2ea9010d]
pixel by baylee

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
#3

i thought i saw
the devil this morning
looking in the mirror

She came - a slight little thing, malnourished and pitiful to look upon. Kaj momentarily wondered at her, questioning why and how she had let herself fall into such a state. The grass was plentiful; losing her herd would have done nothing to cause such starvation. Was she sick of the mind? Was that why she had pursued him so uselessly? It was almost disheartening, to see what a lack of an opponent she was. It would be no fight. Kaj feels almost ashamed of her, for whatever childish emotions had driven her to foolishly target him. He had offered her shelter and family, and though she’d turned away from it as many others had, she had also deigned to spit in the face of his proffered aid. She had slighted him ever further, and so he would not feel pity for her state. It was one she had brought upon herself, and so he would not encourage her or her destructive ways.

Instead he awaited her, body tensed and primed for action and reaction. His eyes never wavered from her form, Maskan’s voice still ever whispering in the back of his head. Kaj doubted it would ever leave, but it gave him comfort in that moment nonetheless. Yet she did not advance. Instead she paused, hesitated, fully stopped. Kaj grunted his annoyance aloud, uncaring what she thought of his brutality. She was a grown mare, and she would not be granted the forgiveness that a true child’s mistakes would have brought about from the newly named Czar. If she had the mind of a child, blind to any and all consequences, then he would rip that veil from her eyes and make her see.

Perhaps she already was, faced with imminent destruction physically before her.

The nameless maiden fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable and Kaj felt a frustrated sort of amusement at the intimidation that was plainly inscribed on her features. Good, let her stew in her mistakes. Let her feel the rapidly heating water of the soon-to-be-boiling pot she’d thrown herself into. For Kaj would have little patience with her antics. Not when she’d made an attempt to take him from his new, unstable family. It was as sinister as stealing away a father from his young, sickly foal. So Kaj would treat it as such, his love for his new Falls family already so great in its magnitude. If anyone had been the worst possible candidate to target, it was the Storm Bringer.

As her lips parted to speak, Kaj’s eyes further narrowed. Speaking from a hide once as chestnut as Evangeline’s, it was like staring into a reflection of his once-beloved Emissary. Except the girl who stood before him had only half the spark the Pure did, and apparently half the brainpower as well. Her words did nothing to inspire him, and the guilt he honestly anticipated to build up was surprisingly barren. Evangeline may have preached peace but even she knew that there was so much more to war and battle than what his foe apparently thought. His disappointment only grew into a greater, yawning pit.

“If a warrior stupidly steps into a healer’s tent and someone dies because of his mistakes, then he is punished. And so a healer and storyteller shall face the consequences and be just as firmly punished for stepping just as foolishly in the realm of the thief. You brought this down upon yourself. You let your emotions carry you when we offered you everything you already had. Do not hide from your mistakes like a child, for I will not treat you as delicately as I would a real foal,” he growled, ears half-mast and eyes narrowed. If she thought him a mindless beast then he would show her exactly what she misunderstood. Kaj had battled Evangeline verbally too many times for her pitiful attempts to waver his conviction.

“You have two choices. Submit to me now, unharmed, or fight for your freedom,” he snapped, punctuated by gnashing of pearly teeth. Bulky body never once relaxed even an iota, prepared ever still for her to make her choice. It was her only chance.



@[Dröm] - I couldn't tell if she would submit or not, hope you're not bothered by another round of posting first!

Word Count: {692/800}
Attack: {0/4}

Image Credit
Code: Time & Neo

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

Dröm Posts: 114
Hidden Account atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Equine :: 14.3hh :: 5 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
baylee
#4
Dröm ♞
He is quick to counter the girl's argument, narrowing his eyes and speaking like a wise elder he pretends to be. Though he may be a King, Czar, Warrior, Leader, those titles do not reflect the amount of intelligence one possesses. In her day, the mare has witnessed many vacuous individuals attempting to lead herds, and perhaps the stallion before her is no different. Though he spoke with authority and command, his words were not clear to the Sweddish mare. She too, narrowed her eyes. The Berättare flicked her golden tail, snapping it against her grey hocks. A cloud of dust left her hide and drifted away on the wind within seconds. The small girl was focused and determined, her eyes glued on his. She was prepared for the worst, as she was sure now that the stallion would not leave without her on his hip as a prisoner. She will be in ankle shackles within minutes. It was as if she could already feel the cold metal knaw at her gentle hide, ripping hair from skin and rubbing the raw area until blood surfaced. She wondered if the bite of cruel metal against open wounds would hurt as much as loosing her freedom, a thing she's loved since a filly. Well, that and her virginity. Those things made her different than the neighborhood whores, who no doubt slept around to get their way out of chains and locks. Dröm, however, would never succumb to such a low that she uses dicks and balls to get her way.

"Do not chastise me, Czar. You may be a king who is strong and attractive with words that demand to be heard and a presence acknowledged, but you have no right to scold me. I am not part of your herd, nor do I wish to be. You may think me scum, but I am still as much of a horse as you are. Fight me, if that is what you wish, but do not tell me what and what not to do, for I find that I have a little itch that only goes away when I do the opposite of what kings say." She finished her little speech with courage and confidence, mentally patting herself on the back, even giving herself bonus points for that little rhyme towards the end. What she spoke was not totally true, for she did usually listen to commands given by leaders, regardless, she wanted this king to expect attitude, sass, and comebacks for everything. She stood still, and though she looked as if a gentle breeze would knock her clean off of her hooves, it was clear there was still fight in the bag of bones known as Dröm.

Her once-velvet upper lip twitched with anxiety. It was clear that he sought blood, his brutality unwavering, but it was unclear how he would come about it. She knew well that his bones were hollow and wings delicate, like any pegasus, whereas her bones were solid through and through, seemingly unbreakable. His body towered over hers. It was a body built for war, a cruel body that could obliterate everything in it's path. The fact that he was so large, also meant his speed was not great. Dröm had leverage here, there was no way such a hulking form could be quicker than the lean Arabian. She has great stamina, something she hopes he doesn't have. Perhaps she can just tire him out then escape. Yes, that will have to do. There is no other way to go about this. Unless, she gives up and allows him to take her to his land as a prisoner.

With an aggravated flick of her tail and a sort of moan that indicated her annoyance and frustration (most likely towards herself), she decided. Her decision might be seen as foolish, cowardly, but it was the right choice, especially when there is a fit beast challenging such a frail and small girl. "You seek to cause damage on me, but I seek injuries not on you. Take me prisoner, I will not fight." She wanted to be brave, she wanted to accept this for all it was, but it was hard giving up, it was something she rarely did. It was defeat. The fire that had bloomed within her soul has died away, leaving just a broken heart and a tattered soul in a flaxen body.

Like some sort of scolded hound, she hobbles towards him, her head hanging low and steps cautious. The sensation of a hunger so great it was nearly painful, had vanished in time, as if her body stopped demanding it and therefore gave up trying to get it. It felt as if she was full, even though her body was deteriorating away with every second. The mare had high energy in the morning, right after waking up, but would grow weak and tired by midafternoon. There was no fuel to keep her going, and she knew she was withering away, but she had no motivation nor desire to feel healthy and well, not when the inside of herself felt as if it had been tossed into a dryer and set on 'tumble mode.' This wasn't a case of anorexia nor any other illnesses similar to that. This was depression. Maybe? Actually, no one is sure why she has stopped eating, stopped trying, but she has.

ooc: originally, I was going to have Dröm fight, but I've decided to have her just not try. Dröm gives up. @[Kaj]

"chatting."
shoot for the s t a r s
Image Credit
[Image: 53d6f2ea9010d]
pixel by baylee

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#5
Kaj is victorious by default. No VP awarded due to no attacks.

Kaj takes Dröm prisoner.
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode


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