the Rift


[JUDGED] Here for You [Ashamin v. Zandora]

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#1
Ashamin

Ashamin.

He rolled his own name around on his tongue as the day fell back into a deep night. He watched the sky grow dark and fill with stars that dripped light like tears. And he waited, as promised, for Zandora to arrive.

A season had turned and left the same pine forest where they had once stood covered in a blanket of snow.  Soft flakes fell, settling on the boughs and needles and slowly accumulating enough weight to slide the branches lower and bend them to kiss the earth. And Ashamin stood like those branches, drooping and coated in snow, just waiting for the sun to rise and rid him of his burdens.

Except Ashamin wasn't sure where he'd be when the sun rose this time. Before he had wandered from this wood and found Thranduil. Now he had a home to return to, and the journey there would be direct and clear. He had forced himself to memorize all paths to his haruspex's cave, refusing to get lost on the way home any longer.

It was harder to stay awake during the days, now, with young Lochan so eagerly waking him at night. The painted buck had given up and let his cerndyr dictate his habits of sleep. He was not firm enough, yet. In his defense, the small being was too cute to discipline. Ashamin watched Lochan now, frolicking in the snow, white eyes glittering in the dark. No, there was no way to scold his young 'panion.

Behind him, the tesla coil on his tail arced with electricity that swam through a current of its own creation. The stallion exhaled and let his sarong unravel and fall from his withers to the earth. Let it be his gauntlet thrown down. Slowly he parted his jaw and spoke into the cold, bitter night: "Zandora, the time has come! Let us find ourselves in combat, comrade." Perhaps Ashamin was Haruspex now, but he wouldn't let the warrior in him fall out of practice.

_____________________________________


Tagged: @[Zandora]
WC: 335
PC: 0/? attack, 0/1 defense
Timeline: Standard, no more than 3 weeks between posts.
Setting: Pine forest in the Northwest corner of the Aurora Basin. It is the middle of the night and cold, but the skies are clear. There are occasional gusts of wind and a few flakes falling that may increase in intensity as time goes on.  
Items on hand: Ashamin is wearing his Tesla Coil on his tail, and has cast his silk sarong aside.
Summary: Ashamin waits in the middle of the wood at night while Lochan plays nearby. He calls for Zandora, hoping she is near enough to hear and meet him, as promised in an earlier thread.
Notes: This is an IC judged spar.  It can count as Zandora's Seasonal Spar for the Aurora Basin Seasonal Spars. Shadow, sorry this isn't my best, I'm a little tired and sucky at intros but I wanted to get this up for you as promised. Let me know how many attack posts you want.

Credit


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Zandora Posts: 85
Outcast atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15 HH :: 7 years HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Evara :: Black Leopard :: None ShadowMare
#2
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Pain.

A word that hid behind a thousand meanings, pain was subjective, up for the interpretation of one's own perspective. Pain meant destruction and loss, it meant losing what you worked for and having to start over in a dark abyss. Finding the light is what she had to do now, and as far as she knew it wasn't in her reach. Zandora would need to work for it, and work hard.

Her hooves tread over the light gathering of snow, millions of little flakes all coming together to create one. It was a beautiful thought, but only for those of beautiful minds. She didn't qualify for such drifts of ideas.

Pines began to spot the scene as she neared her battleground, where a stallion whom she held close to her heart was waiting for her. Ashamin had taken on a friend that did not deserve his comfort and his companionship, but yet he had. She owed that too him, and Zandora passionately would give him all she had, even though it was little.

An amethyst hoof laid it's print in the ring of resentment. Here, Zandora had a choice to step away before she got into something she wasn't entirely sure she was prepared for, but here is where Zandora would pass through and meet her temporary foe. Her eyes that lacked pupils, lacked emotion, and lacked spark, settled upon Ashamin. The familiar face bringing bitter sweet memories to her thoughts, tears, joy, brokenness, all mixed together in her cauldron of hidden emotions.

Slowly she shook the silver bangle off her leg, let the metallic band shimmer in the snow, the time had come. A wave of concentration consumed her as she felt at peace, a feeling that was as foreign to her as a sea in a desert.

The time had come.

"Yes, let us join in the practice of our skills." Zandora said with a dip of her head, backing away as if to offer Ashamin the first attack. She felt it was the polite thing to do, so Zandora blinked once and took a deep breath as she prepared her body for what he had to offer.



Word Count: 362
OCC: phone post 0.0 sorry for its crappyness! :(((
Tag: @[Ashamin]
Speech

Julieta on Arkana
[Image: 56a075b49df35]
No restrictions on things that can happen to Zandora, please tag in first posts only.

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#3
Ashamin

And so the young Harsupex's challenger arrived. Zandora appeared to him as a part of the shadow plucked straight from the forest. She answered his call with a customary reply, something he expected from a soldier such as herself. Zandora seemed to have a sort of honor that he admired, even if he had never seen her at work on the battlefield. But now, now he would see.


Lochan, as if sensing his bonded's rising tide of concentration, skirted the scene. Quiet and affectionate, he bounded forward towards his bonded. The cerndyr headbutted Ashamin's hock in the gentlest of ways; the painted buck took it as a sign of good luck.


Ashamin did not let Lochan draw his attention for long, however. Though Ashamin watched as the little deer grabbed hold of and dragged away the span of silk he had hatched beneath, the Haruspex turned quickly back to Zandora as soon as he knew Lochan was safe and tucked away beneath it at the base of a nearby tree. On the ground, nothing rested between them now but white and the circle of silver that was Zandora's bangle. He skirted it, wishing to cause it no damage, and approached Zandora's right with kindness. Though she had backed away, clearly ceding the battlefield to him, he wasn't about to let her walk off so easy. The buck extended his cheek, hoping this time she would not turn him away. He whispered her name, a tender greeting, a "Zandora," and hoped to feel her touch. Time had passed and many emotions had been stirred between them--Ashamin doubted she'd reject his kindness now.


But he did not linger, and just as he reached out to greet her he moved past her. He set off first at a trot and then at a quicker canter, running past Zandora and straight into the dark field of trees before them. The painted stallion ran at her back and around where she stood, his body weaving and darting, his adorned tail scraping and electrifying the trunks of the pines that he passed. As he ran he felt the cold wash over him, and with it a sort of blissful calm. It was odd to be making the first move, as if he had some sort of seniority over Zandora. But did he? Now he was of a higher rank, this much was true, but her age brought her the wisdom of experience he could only hope to gather in time. No, Ashamin decided as instinct carried his body behind and around Zandora, gazing at a magical mirror once or twice paled in comparison to living two years longer. And as Ashamin knew, the crooked years Zandora lived had in many ways been harder than his own.


As Ashamin's lopsided circle completed and he charged out of the trees at half of a serpentine right angle--heart pounding; snow flying; appearing as a sudden and (hopefully) surprising ghost on white cloven hooves; black eyes narrowed in focus as he charged for Zandora's left flank--he thought in split seconds of how different this spar would be from his disaster with Torleik. He knew Zandora, and he knew himself, better than he had known Torleik or the faint shadow of the weak painted unicorn who had faced the Bloodskald, then. He caught the central eye of his companion, and knew he rested somewhere in that little creature's heart. He caught sight of the faint lavender lines that traced Zandora's back, and he knew that somewhere she rested in his.


But those moments of tender reflection were brief and short lived. Suddenly all focus was towards the downturn of his own features and the preparation for impact. If his aim was true, he hoped that her body would stop his front and momentum would swing the rest of him to strike her hind. His whole body tensed and he focused on the hope of the hit to come. He did not want to hurt Zandora, but she had said so herself: now was a time to practice their skills.


At the last second he turned his decorated face, bearing his horn so it might make contact with her barrel before the rest of him could, and let his white teeth snap near her girth in an attempt to bite. His long tail waved, a banner and proud flag flung upward, and his heart filled with the song of a warrior at home. For this was his home, and she, his sparring partner, was his friend.


Yes, this would be a much different sort of spar.


_____________________________________


Tagged: @[Zandora]
WC: 763
PC: 1/3 attack, 0/1 defense
Timeline: Standard, no more than 3 weeks between posts.
Summary: Ashamin steps forward to press his face to Zandora's right cheek in greeting, and then is off. He darts past her and straight into the trees, trying to make use of their shadows to hide as he circles around to charge at her left side from a 45 degree angle. He hopes that if she does not dodge him, momentum will swing his back half to collide parallel with hers once the initial impact his stopped his front. At the last second he lowers his head and tilts it to the left to bite at her girth and perhaps scrape her barrel with his horn.
Notes: Sorry for the little wait! Best of luck to you, looking forward to this!
Credit


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Zandora Posts: 85
Outcast atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15 HH :: 7 years HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Evara :: Black Leopard :: None ShadowMare
#4
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Eyes of ice watched with a gentle curiosity in the way her friend treated his companion. The way Ashamin looked at the young cerndyr with delicate softness made her yearn for one to look at her in such a passionate way. Her
heart melted in that moment, the slight and brief moment where Zandora desired to be loved. She felt confident that one day, when she had found the light, that she would be looked at in such a way that the world would slip away, and at that very precious moment, she would feel.

Zandora was surprised to see Ashamin approach her, even after she had given him the field. Equines showing kindness to her was still fresh and new and every time she witnessed the act she couldn't help but be surprised. Zandora knew she didn't deserve to be treated like she mattered, but when someone ignored those personal ideas of herself and cared, Zandora was left confused and surprised. Shaking off the default bewilderment, she reached out her ebonite face and felt the comfort in Ashamin's touch, felt the comfort in the way he said her name. It was a rare beauty, sharing a traumatic experience with someone, it changed everything. She let her face linger near his for a second longer then necessary, drawing from the strength that he gave her. She whispered a few sincere words before he slipped away in his first attack "Goodluck my dear Ashamin." Her eyes once of ice, melted for just a moment as she gave him a serene and soft look, truly wishing her friend the best.

Although she desired to sink into the haven of these passed seconds, she had to focus. Now was no longer the time to reflect on memories and seek safety, Zandora had a battle on her hands, and she wanted to prove her worth to the Basin. Quickly, Ashamin darted off past her in a blur of leonine tail and black mass. She turned her head as she watched him with calculating eyes, analyzing, searching, wondering, what his next move might be based on where he disappeared off too. Zandora may be rusty today, but she was a cold-blooded fighter pre-helovia. She was forced to learn how to use her size and speed to her advantage, given that her strength is easily a weakness. She relied on her wit and speed, without those she would be utterly helpless and completely useless. Her narrowed eyes caught sight of faint sparks in the distance, colors briefly raining down from the thick evergreen trees that made the snowy pines. She estimated his attack with haste as she saw her friend glide closer to her with every passing second. Zandora's heart thumped loud in her chest, echoing in her ears as the muscle tightened and released hurriedly. She liked the feeling adrenaline gave her, the thrill, the rush of it all was addicting, it was a renewable drug that kept her always wanting more. A wave of tension crawled over her skin as she prepared her body for her defense. Zandora remembered being young and naive, where her first attack was always some sort of charge, but with seniority brought wisdom, and she knew too well what Ashamin planned to do. As the cloven figure galloped towards her, and neared his target, Zandora enacted her plan.

The world slowed down, and every battle sense she encompassed was heightened. There was no more time to think, to remember, or to wish, there was only time to fight.

Zandora became completely consumed in concentration as Ashamin unveiled his first attack. He tried to thrust his body force on her, taking advantage of the height difference, as well as power. To deflect this, Zandora leapt up on her hind legs and threw her front limbs to the right to turn her body away from his powerful attempted attack. This still left her vulnerable for his next attack, so as Ashamin reached down to bite at her, Zandora snapped her lowered head up as she lifted herself in the air, as she did this she hoped that her razor sharp horn could make contact with his shoulder or any skin of that matter. Then, as she lowered herself back to the ground, she tried to use her hooves to bruise his withers or back as she flailed the amethyst nails, trying to land a hit on his body as she used the weight of her upper body and gravity behind each attempted hit.

She loved the feeling of fighting, but this spar was much different to those of her past, for her opponent held a special spot in her heart. Hurting the only person she held dear felt wrong, whereas before she felt nothing, is this...

what love felt like?

How lovely.







Word Count: 800
OCC: Z's like, feelings? What is this wizardry?
Summary: Zandora greeted Ashamin, and watched his attack and predicted what he might do. As he attacked, Zandora reared and used the force of throwing her legs to the right to turn in the air. For her attack, she attempted to cut his shoulder with her horn as she reared up, her head was originally lowered, so she wanted it to cut his skin while she moved upward. While she was rearing, she tried to pound his back with her hooves, using gravity and her upper body weight to bruise is withers or back.
Tag: @[Ashamin]
Speech

Julieta on Arkana
[Image: 56a075b49df35]
No restrictions on things that can happen to Zandora, please tag in first posts only.

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#5
Ashamin

There was something in the way she said "my."

It was a distraction, to be sure. Ashamin couldn't stop wondering why he voice had carried such an inflection. Was he really hers? Her dear anything, anyone, Ashamin?

The thought had hounded him ever since she had spoken. Never before had he been special to anyone but his father, not really. But here, in this valley of ice, he was making more friends and family than he could count. Zandora was one such friend, an unlikely one whom had chosen to keep his company even after his failures before her. Perhaps, in that way--in their friendship being a choice--she really did own their friendship. Perhaps he really was hers.

But Ashamin didn't have time to dwell on it, for as soon as he turned his head to bite and found his eyes trained downwards, he was startled by an unexpected sight: ground, nothing but snow and dead needles from the pines about them that dripped with ice and vestiges of their life. The purple daggers that had been embedded there, the bright forehooves Zandora bore with such gentility, were gone.

After that, all he could feel was air. The rush of legs turning up and away from him, the sudden speed of his own attack. Without her there to stop him, he was moving so much faster than expected, still building momentum. He felt his whole body swing as if on instinct as he tried to turn to run parallel and shift his angle as quickly as he could. But underneath, the ground felt clumsy. The Haruspex's cleft hooves could dig into the frost as naturally as they would like, but his mind was too unfocused, too shocked by her swift motion. Should he have expected anything less? Zandora was a lot of things, but she was a warrior first and foremost: a soldier of the Aurora Basin.

How could he have thought she wouldn't see this coming?

Ashamin's turn protected him from one attack to come, but forced him directly and unwittingly into the path of another that was more immediate. The stallion watched, head lifting to follow the path of Zandora's motion, as her legs swung as if in slow motion and her head was tossed up. Her mane, a flash of purple obscuring his vision and the scene likely playing across her features, caught his attention before her horn did. And when her horn caught his attention, it caught him through the flesh.

His face turned from an expression of admiration and awe to a twisted grimace. The spiraled dagger Zandora bore upon her brow had met its mark with his own help. He had simply kept charging, perhaps under her lifted frame, he would have been nowhere near the weapon. But as it were, it cut cleanly, delicately, from his right elbow to his shoulder, leaving a thin red line in its wake.

The painted buck made no sound. He only crashed his teeth together, his bite empty, his aim poor, and his tactics suffering from inexperience. Where she had so easily dodged his strike and cast one of her own, he had fumbled. And now he darted before her, a shallow wound dripping red from his shoulder to the snow.

For a panicked moment, Ashamin felt hopeless. His shoulder strung and he feared he'd be struggling with it for the rest of the spar, unable to fight back with his true strength. But Lochan stood watching, third eye unblinking, and as soon as fear came to Ashamin, so too came an overwhelming sense of encouragement flooding from the heart of the cerndyr to his bonded.

With that feeling, that message, came a calm focus. Ashamin cast his gaze back and watched as Zandora reached for his back with her hooves as she fell, comforted with the knowledge that his speed and maneuvering had at least carried him out of the reach of those blunt strikes.

Ashamin knew it was the time to strike. As he slowed, his body positioned directly in front of hers, he felt his blood slow, too. The spirit of the warrior... was this the magic that Deimos had mentioned to him after the meeting? Was this the benefit of his rank, focusing his heartbeats, dulling the pain in his shoulder, and lifting him now to rest his weight on his forelegs? The haruspex felt unaware of his movements, as if he were being pulled along on strings. But those strings were powerful ones, those jerks of the muscle filled with intention. As he bucked, then, his pointed hooves aimed for Zandora's chest as she fell, his adorned and sparking tail striking out towards her neck, he knew this was instinct.

This, this focus, was what he had been searching for.


_____________________________________


Tagged: @[Zandora]
WC: 798
PC: 2/3 attack, 0/1 defense
Timeline: Standard, no more than 3 weeks between posts.
Summary: Ashamin sees that his attack will miss when Zandora starts to rear and turns as quickly as he can to run mostly parallel to her left side. This moving along with his continuous run puts him in front of her, so that her horn is able to cut his right shoulder up from his elbow. He keeps running so that he is not under her when she tries to hit him with her hooves and that attack misses. He slows down in front of her, uses warrior's spirit to dull the pain in his shoulder and allow him to put his weight in his front, and bucks back at her chest. His tail waves behind him and sort of blindly he aims for Zandora's neck area--if his tail hits she might receive a small shock from his tesla coil.
Notes: Sorry for the little wait!


Credit


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Zandora Posts: 85
Outcast atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15 HH :: 7 years HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Evara :: Black Leopard :: None ShadowMare
#6
[quote pid='147950' dateline='1436117778']
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Warmth spread across Zandora's chiseled face after her hooves had landed back on the icy forest floor, her last attack attempt falling short to Ashamin's speed. The feeling was so strange she was not sure what it was at first. She thought, for a second, that the sun had risen early and it's rays were casting onto the delicate curve of her face. Unfortunately, as the sensation dripped off her muzzle she quickly put a name to the past familiarity. 
 
Blood.
 
The sickening tang infiltrated her thoughts mid-battle, and the emotionally unstable mare involuntarily succumbed to the memories that went along with the wretched liquid. It was everywhere, the vile substance had become a splattered art masterpiece on her violet nails, and her horn had become stained with a dark pink. The similar sensation of blood seeping down her face was fresh and ever real, but where she cringed at the smell and warmth of blood, in this memory she loved it and wanted more. She had claimed so many deaths, broken so many families, that her existence today had been damned by those that she ended, her every breath undeserved and selfish. This was her payment, it had finally loomed over her and broken the seal she had created against it, now she was completely helpless to it's horrors. This, she deserved. 
 
Distraction equaled destruction, this she knew. She was reminded of her own theory as two white dipped nails found their way towards her chest. Zandora attempted to shift right, to evade the powerful attack, but she was much too late. Pain racked her body, as a crack whistled through her small Arabian frame. Her breath was quickly knocked out of her and she gasped, tasting blood on her tongue as she tired to regain her breath. Still working on instinct her body shifted right, evading the golden coil that Ashamin had gained with his new rank. Surprise and agony consumed her, he had most definitely broken a rib or two. For a moment, Zandora just sat there; the battle paused as her tattered thoughts and battered mind caught up with her physical situation. 
 
'Yes Zandora you a broken, perhaps now physically too, but you are strong. You have come this far-- it is time to finish what you started, with what you started with; vigor and determination.' The mare said to herself, whether she was actually talking about the battle she had in the physical or the one she had mentally, she wasn't sure, but she did know this; Zandora wasn't going to let herself loose any fight. Tally wise she didn't care if she won, although she wanted it with every fiber of her body, she merely wanted to beat the demon that was begging, taunting, for her to give up. She knew it was within reach, and Zandora would prevail. 
 
With a newborn fire of hot, molten, determination, Zandora quickly put her feet to work. The few passed seconds and thoughts she had previously were now buried underneath smoldering vigor, as she charged Ashamin's right hand side. She was forced to attack from the side, as she couldn't do anything reasonably harmful with his rear facing her. Zandora was going to re-attempt the third attack she did earlier, but with more focus which always proved to be critical in her personal improvements. Muscles coiled as she charged, her back legs powering up to jump in the air. The small space between them was quickly closed as Zandora leaped onto her feet and shifted her weight onto her left side, she then used this weight to crash into Ashamin's right side. Her teeth bared as she attempted to bite his crest as she thrust her weight into Ashamin's barrel and withers. Although this could be a very painful attack, attempting it had a toll on Zandora's broken bones. Her body was once again enveloped with a sharp aching, blackness dotting her vision. Zandora didn't have time for this though, she swallowed the pain and refocused on what was important; prevailing








Word Count: 674
OCC: SORRY FOR THE WAIT! You know why :/ I'm not sure what to say about this...
Summary: After a few seconds of realization, Zandora charged Ashamin's right side and reared, as she did so, she shifted her weight onto her left side, so Ashamin's body would be impacted by the momentum of her charge as well as the force of her body weight. At the last moment, her teeth tired to latch onto any neck muscle, his crest the nearest muscle.
Tag: @[Ashamin]
Speech

Julieta on Arkana

[/quote]
[Image: 56a075b49df35]
No restrictions on things that can happen to Zandora, please tag in first posts only.

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#7
Zandora please include your attack number 2/3

TY
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#8
Ashamin
 
 
Boom, crack, fall.

A perfect collision, the sensation of two cleft hooves striking true and making purchase. The impact sent a shudder through his whole body and he stumbled forward and down, away from the target at his back. Ebony met ivory, strength made hurt, and the heart began to crumble.

Ashamin had felt the warrior's spirit rush through him and quickly forgotten one thing: this was a spar. How often would he make this foolish mistake, and strike with more strength than a battle of practice required? The snap of bone had been loud, and though perhaps he could have imagined it, and maybe he wasn't certain, the possibility was horrifying. His body finished its shaky fall back to the earth, four legs rooted in the cold and wise mind suddenly frantic. He felt nothing at his back, but Lochan flashed the sight: stillness. For a moment, the fight was in delicate pause.

Find a mender, Ashamin thought to his bonded, sending him off firmly with a nod. The haruspex watched, panting, thin red line on his shoulder dripping, as the black cerndyr bounded off. Whenever this spar ended, hopefully soon, hopefully now, a healer's touch would be required.

Just as the painted buck turned to look at Zandora, opened his mouth to speak, apologize, and beg that the battle be forfeit, he felt her force. She had taken him off guard, taken advantage of the blindness of his remorse and his moment with Lochan. The turn of his head, a harmless glance to the left and his back, suddenly became his only defense against the snapping of her teeth as they missed their mark--a lucky shift.

But her body, her body still struck. And though she was just shy of his height, and though the purity of her breed provided her a lightness where his mixed heritage had thickened his frame and curved out his nose, the surprise was enough for her smaller frame to knock him down. Ashamin called out, his cry a tug on the tether of his bonded, a physical jerk he felt in his heart as Lochan stopped, somewhere distant now in the woods, and turned to look back. But go on, the haruspex thought through the pain as he fell. Don't stop, little eye.

And so Lochan ran and the Haruspex fell on his side, the shock of Zandora's body forcing him to the earth, the pounding of her hooves against his barrel and--given the angle of his decline--cut shoulder, relentless. He groaned as a hoof struck the tenderness of the cut, widening the gash and spraying red up towards the purple that aimed to strike him. Was this her fury, then, so strong that she could fight through the full force of his pain? He felt something like a fracture (if that even was the pain, as if he could tell what hurt's source was, now) radiate through the first bone of his injured foreleg and gasped as the marks that would be bruises began to spot his barrel.

The warrior buck struggled, planting his hind hooves in the earth and digging the clefts of his hooves in to penetrate the thin surface of frost. His long tail struck out, lashing wildly at the two hind legs that were Zandora's support and hoping their sparks might shake her resolve or her stance. With all his might, then, Ashamin leaned to his right to straighten himself, out from under her hooves and into the shadow cast by her underside, and stood.

It was a feeble motion at first; his right foreleg shook as pain radiated from his shoulder, which was hopelessly battered and certain to soon be purpled. But he still put all his strength into the act, standing on three legs, lifting his injured one up to bend it away from the weight of his body crushed against earth. At least he was not unaccustomed to the sensation of being lame, thanks to Torleik. If he had any luck, perhaps he would be fast enough and able to throw her from his back. He pushed further to his right, aimed to press harder against her left and underside, driving her to the clearing's edge. There, a firm tree stood. A target and a bullseye, upon which to cast this mare warrior's right side as a dart, against which to hold her fast and strong.

That is, if only he had the speed left in him, if only the weakness would overtake her. Somehow, with pain shaking him so badly he could no longer focus his spirit or mind, Ashamin forgot to feel guilty.
 
_____________________________________
 
 
WC: 775
PC: 3/3 attack, 0/1 defense  
Timeline: Standard, no more than 3 weeks between posts.  
Summary: The buck lands and Ashamin thinks he hears Zandora's rib crack, shaking his resolve. Ashamin falls back into a stand and tell Lochan to leave and find a healer. He turns his face to look back at her and ask her to fight, avoiding her bite, and is taken by surprise and as a result hit with the full force of her body. He falls to the ground, exposing his right foreleg/shoulder and barrel . He strikes out to hit her hind legs with his hooves, maybe shocking them. Zandora's hooves hit, fracturing his right humerus and widening the cut from earlier. He the attempts to gather his strength and stand (on three legs) quickly enough, moving to the right, so that he can throw her off of his back, her left side hopefully crushed against a tree.
Notes: Almost done!
 
 
Credit


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Zandora Posts: 85
Outcast atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15 HH :: 7 years HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Evara :: Black Leopard :: None ShadowMare
#9
(07-05-2015, 12:36 PM)Zandora Wrote:
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Everything slowed, frozen by the breath of regret and guilt. Ashamin's cry sliced through her like sharpened diamonds, she had hurt him. Truly hurt him. Suddenly this spar felt wrong, utterly wrong. A rush of emotions heated her body, each emotion strong and bickering with the others to take the title of causing Zandora to back away, to give up. Her eyes looked down, pain and fear lacing deep within them, crimson splattered against a wall of amethyst. Her memories took advantage of her in this moment of weakness, the demons inside her chuckled, chanting the words that used to be her motto. 'blood on you; just where it belongs.'  They echoed as she tried with whatever she had left, to continue, to win. 

It was shock that brought her out of her delirium, a literal shock. The pain of high voltage traveled up her hind legs with ferocious speed, stunning every inch of her muscles. The Haurspex's charm had made it's mark on Zandora as the wave of quick, strange, pain further diffused up her legs. The mare who was so emotionally wrecked on a seaside of pain and nightmares, let out a gasp. Many things could to be heard with the inhale of air; hurt, surprise, the depth of pure brokenness-- perhaps the most evident. Although the shock was little compared to the crushing feeling in her chest that made each breath labored and hoarse, it was enough to cause her to loose her balance, her violet daggers crashing to the ground. 

A turn of her head was seen then, eyes that were usually void of the toxic things that the world worked around, now expressed too many of those toxic things. Her continued moments of pause and weakness would surely be her downfall though. She wasn't sure whether Ashamin saw the regret and agony inside her amaranthine eyes, but she was sure that he hadn't paused and that he was still fighting. Her body was lifted as Ashamin stood, her tender ribs being crushed all over again. The pain was sharp, piercing, as if something had stabbed her lungs, it then quickly hit her that her lungs were stabbed by her own broken ribs as blood collected in the back of her throat. Still on Ashamin's back she spit out the thick crimson liquid, his black skin now painted with a touch of red. "Ashiman-" Zandora cried out, trying to stop him, trying to let him know that she physically could not continue. The cry for mercy was useless though, as she had been to late. 

Zandora's body slipped off his back and the rough feeling of bark cut through her skin. Her ribs that were battered, bruised, and broken felt the force of the solid tree, her attempts to hold her tongue from her whimpering were lost, a pained shriek booming over frozen fields. The warmth of Ashamin's body was pressed up against her, pushing her body into the pined predator. Her eyes closed, she could no longer bare to see anything. It was if each spec of the world held some sort of trigger, and that trigger would burst into unwanted recollections of her past. Zandora felt her body slide down, her legs crumpling as her thin arabian frame gave out. Every breath she took consisted of the same stabbing feeling as well as the smell and taste of tangy blood. 

Her body was now of little use to her, she had no strength left to rear or charge Ashamin, nor did she really have the desire to finish what she started. Zandora had people counting on her though, she had a rank to withhold, a herd to prove her worth to, and herself. With these thoughts in mind, the ebonite mare, who had blood running down her nostrils, red smeared on her lips, crimson splattered on her hooves, and liquid dripping off her horn, stood and opened her eyes. The burning in her lungs and the ache in her bones quickly became irrelevant, she didn't have a second to waste, the time was ticking.   

No longer letting the pain be the master of her thoughts, Zandora renowned her body and begun her last attack. She quickly spun on her forehand counterclockwise, using her untouched rump to move Ashamin out of the way as she turned her body. Zandora then pretended like she was going to continue turning, but instead she thrust her weight onto her front hooves and kicked out, aiming to hit Ashamin's side. Her attempt drained the rest of her energy, and she hoped that this buck would have enough power behind it to register with her target. She hoped a lot of things, but above all she hoped that Ashamin would be okay. In the end, it was all the mattered. 







Word Count: 800
OCC: DONE!
Attack: 3/3
Summary: Ashamin lifted Zandora off her feet and successfully threw her onto the tree. This act caused her immeasurable pain, due to the fact she was being crushed against a solid tree and she has broken ribs as well as a punctured lung. (her lungs are filling with blood, hence as to why she is chocking on blood) Zandora lost her balance and fell underneath Ashamin at the base of the tree trunk, but she then got up. Turning left she moved Ashamin away so she had the space to kick out, then she bucked and tried to hit Ashamin's barrel or side. Depending on how he moves. 
Tag: @Ashamin
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No restrictions on things that can happen to Zandora, please tag in first posts only.

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#10
Ashamin
 
 

By the time Ashamin heard Zandora call out his name, it was too late. He had felt her underside press against his back as he had weakly stood. He had thought he would crumble and fall, even with her frail weight, but somehow he had risen far and fast enough for her to fly through air and strike that tree, just as he had planned.

Just as he had planned.

Back to the moment when he heard her call out his name, back to the moment when blood sprang from his dear friend's lips and covered his back in dim misery. Back to that moment when he stopped, froze, and felt himself filled with regret. What had he done? What had he done?

Out of the corner of his eyes, so filled with fear for her that their rare whites showed, the buck watched Zandora slide against the tree. He didn't think she would get up. He wasn't sure she could. And his own heart pounded heavy in his chest, his own pain was heightened as the magic of the warrior's spirit that had instinctively reached out to protect him fell away. His leg... Ashamin stared down at its white sock, now covered in blood. Was it his, dripping from the wound Zandora had left on his shoulder, or was it hers?

The Haruspex thought of himself as a monster. Maybe he was a monster. Only a monster could so fatally injure a friend. How had this spar, this practice of skills, come to this? How had it all gotten so out of hand?

Ashamin shivered. He waited. He stared down at his shuddering leg that curled up in pain from the earth, and he prayed for Lochan to return, for this misery and betrayal to end. But somehow, Zandora still stood.

And the painted stallion with the crooked horn, this soldier's confidante, was frozen in fear. It was fear for her more than himself, but fear nonetheless. Ashamin watched her as if in slow motion—perhaps, though, he was only seeing the truth: the dulled, aging motion of the injured. When she stood he couldn't move. When he saw the muscles in her front legs bunch and tense to hold her weight, he couldn't move. And he remembered his first spar, his display of failure before Torleik the Bloodskald, and how he couldn't move.

The memory was enough; though he did not have the strength left, Ashamin ran. He ran as best as he could, stumbling in a chaotic direction somewhere away from her attack—anywhere away. He pitched forward every time the slightest weight was thrown upon his injured foreleg, he coughed and he sputtered, and he turned to watch Zandora's last flame burn out. He was looking, when her hind-hooves clipped his hindquarters, threatened his balance and shoved him aside, and caused the start of an ugly bruise; he was watching her, only her, as his run faded into a fall and he landed in the snow, the pine needles, and the blood. Everything was cold, and everything was hurt. Slowly, the snow filled the gaps in his horn.

Ashamin never let his eyes leave her body: once blessed, now broken and bleeding. He had done this, and he couldn't forgive himself. He remembered to feel guilty, and then suddenly he could feel nothing outside of that heavy, moral pain.

What had he done, and how could he have done it?

"Zandora..."
 
_____________________________________
 
 
WC: 575
PC: 1/1 defense  
Timeline: Standard, no more than 3 weeks between posts.  
Summary: Ashamin stops short when he feels Zandora's weight leaving his back and takes a moment to recover as he falls. When she stands he remembers his fight with Torleik and begins to run forward and to the left, away from Zandora's attack. He is not quick enough to evade it completely due stumbling on his injured right foreleg, but angling left allows the buck to hit his hindquarters rather than his already injured side. The force of Zandora's buck Pushes further to his left and he stumbles, eventually laying down on the ground to await help from a healer.
Notes: In the summary of my last post I mistakenly identified Ashamin's final attack to be crushing her left side against the tree, though the prose indicated right. I meant to type right in the summary, to clear up any confusion. Thankfully you still understood me Shadowmare, sorry about that. The setting of this spar will be continued in a thread in the Aurora Basin, set directly after, as the pair wait for healers sent by Lochan.
 
 
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Official Posts: 847
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#11
By my verdict: ASHAMIN is the winner!

ASHAMIN
Realism [+1]
You do well at explaining your methods, but they do not always work within realistic limits. For example, you charged at Zandora’s left flank, and said you hoped the momentum would swing the rest of your body into her making you parallel. Running into her however would be most likely to cause her body to swing away from yours, not make your rear which is driving the attack, swing into her, you’d have to do that. Additionally you attacked with your chest at her flank, but then in the same fluid movement try to bite her girth and horn her barrel, which would not be within his reach, nor likely capable if he’s running full force into her.

Similarly in your third post you are pushed over somehow by her charge attack, but this is with them being in fairly close proximity (meaning she has less momentum, overall she has less strength stats, and she was just injured…) and without you being unbalanced. Just being rammed is difficult to unbalance a horse with, usually it only happens with slick conditions, or when they unbalance themselves like with a buck or a rear. You then receive fractured ribs, which are passable with a crit hit since they’re somewhat better than broken bones, but still didn’t seem necessary given the fact he just fell after being rammed. It’s also unlikely he’d have been able to stand up beneath her and lift her up. He’s at a huge disadvantage on the ground. A horse just getting up normally is awkward and slow, so trying to lift another horse at the same time is practically impossible.

You finished the fight down, after taking her buck (which I’m not sure how that knocked you over again for everything I said above), which makes it really unlikely for him to win the fight. He’s on the ground, she’s standing, everything else aside, it seems like she wins; that’s how fights are won in nearly every part of nature. This is accounted for with -10 hp deduction, and is not scored in your realism area (aside from the fact her buck knocked you down), I just wanted to explain it more under here.

Aside from your attacks, your defenses were solid and your damage followed the dice rolls well. I would have liked more description of his injuries and how they affected him throughout the fight though. You mentioned some breed differences and surroundings periodically, but rarely used them to explain why an attack/dodge was done or how it was affected. For instance, rather than falling over when she rammed you, say because he was stronger her hit caused intense bruising, but his greater strength and height managed to keep him grounded, or something. Or if he did slip, was it because of the ice that ultimately felled him? It just really helps make the fight come alive. Nice use of your rank magic!


Emotion [+2]
Your emotion fluctuated in each post, being lowest in your first post and highest in your second. I really enjoyed it when you gave it to me, helping me feel the connection between Ashamin and Zandora, explaining his motives, his past experiences, his companion bond etc.


Prose [+2.5]
Lovely writing all throughout with great flow and word usage.


Readability [+2.5]
Very readable just some minor errors.

P1:
“As Ashamin's lopsided circle completed and he charged out of the trees at half of a serpentine right angle--heart pounding; snow flying; appearing as a sudden and (hopefully) surprising ghost on white cloven hooves; black eyes narrowed in focus as he charged for Zandora's left flank--he thought in split seconds of how different this spar would be from his disaster with Torleik.” (run on)
“...had faced the Bloodskald, then.” (don’t need that comma)

P2:
“...why he voice…” (her)
“His shoulder strung…” (stung)


Finally tally: 40+(8*2)-10(for ending fight not standing)= 46 HP

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

ZANDORA
Realism [-2.5]
You had overall some good sense of fighting mechanics, but what really hurt your score was power play and over dramatic damages! Power play can be just a very minor twist of words to make or break the deal. Just never, ever assume or say that anything for certain happened to a character that is not played by you, so use words like: might, hoped, aimed, attempted…

Your timing throughout the fight worked well, and there were a few instances where you did bring up some breed differences - though you didn’t really use them to explain how an attack/defense was made because of those differences, or how it helped, or failed because of those differences. Surroundings were hardly ever mentioned, much less used, so it made it hard to visualize the fight well and terrain really plays a role in explaining attacks and defenses, particularly when you’ve got something like snow.

I wanted to run through most of your attacks and defenses because that was where I struggled the most with the realism. In your first post you reared up to avoid Ashamin’s charge, but he was aiming for you flank, which is not explicitly moved just with a rear, so I don’t see how that helped her dodge it at all. You then say she lifted her head to avoid his bite, but in rearng the would have already lifted her head, and since Ashamin’s attacks were all fluid and closely timed together, her horn could not have struck him and yet her flank managed to avoid him all from this one rear at the same time.

In your second post Ashamin kicked at her chest, which you took, but then you said she broke ribs. Ribs would be impacted if she’d been hit on her side, particularly back by her flank, but she wasn’t. Additionally breaking bones, even fracturing them, is never really a good idea and is not super likely to happen. I know you rolled a 6 damage, but even a critical hit I wouldn’t suggest breaking bones - a 6 damage doesn’t need to mean death, nor does it need to come all from one attack (unless a crit hit), or even from Ashamin at all (can be injured from surroundings). So even with a 6 damage you can take a bunch of little hits, or a strong hit but not a crippling hit. You can see the dice guide which has some damage examples in the Battle boards. Further in your second post you mention her hooves are bloody but I’m not sure how that blood got there, you do not mention Ashamin’s horn attack - even if he missed/you dodged it needs to be specifically stated so it doesn’t seem ignored. You go on to charge into Ashamin on your left side, right where your inured ribs were - pain is there to keep us from injuring that same place, and something as painful as broken ribs would definitely make anyone think twice about using that same area to attack with.

In your third post you take Ashamin’s tail strike to your legs, which unbalances you. A tail could not be strong enough to unbalance you, even with the mild spark of his item. It could startle out, perhaps cause you in being startled to unbalance yourself, but in and of itself that attack could not have unbalanced you. Being lifted up by Ashamin was unrealistic on his part (addressed in his section), but it would require a ton of strength on his part, giving you enough time to slide off or move to the side and not get pinned. It’d be very difficult to hit an exact point of balance that she wouldn’t naturally slide off one way or another based on a horse’s body.

So I suggest you watch how horses naturally fight, read through some other spars and just consider the physical ability of the horses in order to judge the attacks you take and make. Be cautious with over damaging your horse and remember to include surroundings more often!


Emotion [+1]
I wanted to feel more of how Zandora felt for Ashamin, what this dark side of her was that you hinted out, and how especially as the spar progressed to such injuries, her warrior siden influenced her more. I felt told a lot of things she was feeling, but hardly ever given a chance to experience them with her. What are her thoughts, her motives?


Prose [+1.5]
Good flow and verbiage throughout the fight!


Readability [+2.5]
Overall understandable with locations and general wording, just some minor errors.

P1:
"Goodluck my dear Ashamin." (space between good and luck)
“disappeared off too.” (to)
“Zandora may be…” (tense switch)

P2:
“..it's rays were…” (its)
“...you a broken…” (are)
“...said to herself, whether…” (...herself. Whether…)

P3:
“Zandora renowned her body…” (renowned doesn’t work here)


Finally tally: 40+(2.5*2)= 45 HP


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