| Administrator |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
| Official |
09-26-2012, 09:16 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-26-2012, 09:24 PM by Tamme.)
ROUND FOUR
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.
Due to some confusion as to word counters, the Admins recommend Word Count Tool. Please use this to ensure you are under the 800 word limit.
If you have not posted in Round One and Round Two, you are not allowed to post in this round.
ULRIK HAS BEEN KNOCKED OUT BY MIRAGE. - round two
RISHISMA HAS BEEN KNOCKED OUT by LENA. - round three
RICCIARDO HAS BEEN KNOCKED OUT by MAD MASK. - round three
This will close on 9/29 at 9:30pm Central Standard US Time.
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 |
Hooves breezed over his rising body, clipping his withers from the left, but at the time, it was nothing that registered. Flickering fire obliterated everything but the intense bite of flames on his skin, the sickening void in his gut which threatened to turn him inside out. Breathe in. A quivering breath through scorched, smoke-stung nostrils, a mind ensconced in darkness and desperately holding on to what it could. The sheer intensity of the experience threatened to knock him out, and the rhythm of his chest rising and falling was the only thing anchoring him. Breathe out. Somewhere, he heard Tamlin cry out - what was his son doing here? Breathe in- for you. He didn't dare open his eyes again, not even to search out the small, fragile form of his only son. Breathe out- you should run, and all he saw all of a sudden was
- darkness.
The pain ground on for a moment, not quite understanding the meaning of the lack of light beyond his closed eyes. But then, the agony died out like the last echoes of a shout, formulating a question with their ceasing. Every part of him felt raw and ragged, expecting the fierce pain to roar into life again the moment he moved - but it didn't. Only the deep throb on his withers and left flank remained, and the King frowned slightly. If only that pain remained... what of the rest? What of being on fire, of feeling the flames peel away his cracked skin and drying it out, causing it to break and bleed? What of the hot rush around his body, the crackling whispers in his ears, the feeling of his eyelashes melting? Only vacant cool evening air cradled him, and not sure what he was expecting, Mauja opened his eyes.
The sun was setting, slipping below the trees, long shadows cast across the familiar battlefield. The mist which he knew so well was thickening, the bodies a distant blur around him, sounds muted by the water droplets suspended in the air - he could smell blood and fear and anger, he could see the shape of the giant dragon-thing barreling away. Holding his breath, heart pumping in confused elation, Mauja craned his head to take a look at his own flank.
It was alabaster white, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, unbroken, unbloodied - no fire had ravaged it.
It hadn't been real.
Standing there behind the enemy lines he gave a shaking, disbelieving laughter, snorted, and shook his head. Who the hell had caused it? No matter, no matter - it hadn't been real. It hadn't been real! He felt like spinning in joy, but it would be a waste of energy on a battlefield, and instead he just grinned like a fool. Movement caught his attention - to his right, now that he'd spun to face the parade of asses, a gray equine was limping away. Briefly he contemplated filling his blood with ice, but decided against it. He seemed genuinely wounded, so why waste energy on him? He was dead meat anyway.
Instead, Mauja sought out the magic nestled around his bones, and pulled it into his mind's focus again. A cold shiver traveled down his spine, another giddy laugh escaping him. He couldn't see what was going on beyond the line of bodies, but he had his target anyway - had seen his bestially huge shape move off. With a single thrust of his mind, the chill of his power caressed him again. It was in the blood of VIKRAM that several crystals sprung up, magicked into his bloodstream by simple will alone. The magic was a sweet rush through Mauja's body as he fed his creation, wishing them to grow as rapidly as they could, to cut open the dragon's veins and bleed him from within. With that little mischief done, he began to move forward, still grinning like a maniac.
Somewhere to his left, a Pegasus (JAYDAN) crashed out of the sky, and with nothing better to do, Mauja tore off after it. The pinched skin on his flank murmured a protest each time it stretched, but he paid it no more heed than he did the throbbing of his withers. With a merry edge to his step the King nearly bounced across the soggy ground. But oh, damn! His target shot into the sky, lashing out at his poor Deimos, and with a madman's grin the King collected his haunches and pushed off the ground. Arching his neck and leveling his horn with the horizon, Mauja did the stupid thing of leaping up into the Pegasus' path, trying to collide with him - and hopefully penetrate that thick chest with his horn.
Hopefully Deimos would move aside for the landing.
[ 800, 2/2 magic uses ]
( Leander's kick clips his withers as he's getting up, and soon after the flames disappear. He places ice crystals in Vikram's blood before charging for Jaydan, and on a whim leaping up to to frontally collide with him, with his horn pointing for Jaydan's chest. )
Mauja Frosthjärta |
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
As he launched towards the little equine Lucius caught a glimpse of his brother coming from behind their target. For a split second he thought they would land on RICOCHET together crushing both his head and his spine. But the little weasel was too fast for them. ”Shit!” Lucius voice rumbled and then he tried to land a bite on the yellow skin without success.
Apparently it didn’t matter how much the twins tried to lock him between them, he kept sliding past them, took a few hits sure, but then he was gone sending his pathetic little hooves Lucius’ way. But The Bull had moved long before the boy’s halfhearted attack.
”Are you ok brother?” Lucius asked Lloyd. He’d seen the black and white mongrel come, but he didn’t see if it landed a bite or not. Then out of the sky the fucking white winged pegasi came again and Lucius reached for his magic, anger boiling in his body. He closed his eyes and felt the familiar tug within his body. He pictured the magpie colored prick and then he snapped his eyes open and grasped the control of the gravity around MIDAS. With a roar he let it flow through him and weariness found him right away. He knew he could not use his magic again this day, or he would surely die or become unconscious at least.
His magic would make Midas a lot heavier than his wings could take so as soon as the Bull let go of his control he leaped forwards. If the pegasi had managed to keep his body of the ground he would at least have fallen so low that Lucius and Lloyd could get to him and pierce him with their sharp horns. If he however was lying in the mud, then the Bull meant to crash down upon him - breaking bones and organs alike.
Lucius then turned around and thought that Lloyd could handle the pegasi fine by himself. He saw two heavy drafts not too far away and they were both going for the king’s black pet. Well the pet was going straight towards one of them and the other, a painted youth, was going for the pet. Lucius sped off. These where opponents more his size and hopefully they wouldn’t be able to escape him as easy as the dunskin had done.
He threw his body in front of AARON and braced himself for the hit. Thanks to his 2000 pounds body he didn’t fall over when the youngster crashed into him. However he could feel his ribs compress and a stomach turning sound told him that one of his ribs had snapped. Pains shoot though him and the Bull cast his heavy head towards the painted draft, roaring like a mad beast. It hurt with every breath he took, but he managed to paint a wry smile on his lips. I didn’t think to get though this without getting wounded, now did I?
”Die you, fucking hypocrites!” he bellowed and kept thrashing his head towards AARON.
516 words
[Since I totally forgot Aaron in Monster’s post, so sorry for that, I’m cleaning it up with Lucius.]
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| Deceased |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 15.2 hands :: 5 years Buff: BULK |
| Blu |
Ricochet
image by Annadriel @ flickr.com</style>
[apologies to jump ahead but I won't have any other time to post.]
Hooves were light and furious as they tore across the battlefield, body moving like liquid cooper as he bolted away from the bulls. Behind he could hear the scuffle unfold between them and the pegasus, no glance back needed to know they did not pursue him. Although he owed a thanks to that meddling bird, he felt no qualms if the duo tore it to pieces. This was not a field where he had many allies, regardless of which side he chose to stand.
Sights leveled on the chaotic whirl of bodies ahead of him. Paladin was in the thick of things, which was not terribly surprising. The entire mob of PALADIN, GISELLE, PSYCHE, NED, MONSTER, KRI, DELINNE sporting hideous appendages be it horn or wing. It didn't really matter who Ricochet hit, it would be a satisfactory blow for him.
Grinning, he rammed into their fray.
Moving like a freight train, albeit a small freight train, Ricochet ducked his head and used his right shoulder to lead the charge, coming in from left and rear of MONSTER he was most likely to barrel into MONSTER and PALADIN, perhaps also catching DELINNE on the way by.
The use of his own body as a blunt force would come back to haunt him in the form of bruising and perhaps even catching a scrape from a horn or two, since it was practically like crawling through a thorn brush, causing both his shoulders to be fairly even in wear and tear. It would make bucking painful he knew, but he could not resist throwing up a half-hearted shot towards MONSTER with his left hind all the same. He favored his weight on his right side, his left fore certainly more beaten than his right, but it pulsed and throbbed with agony regardless. Nearly stumbling out of the maneuver, sides heaving with either exertion or excitement, Ricochet caught himself and leaned back on his haunches. Hocks dipped for a moment and brushed the grass, his tail sashaying over them like soft butter, before he spun about in a roll back to now stand facing the same group he'd blown past.
With a thunderous bellow he lurched forward, the ground jolting through his forehand bringing a wince to his face, but it only made him uglier as he snarled at the hurt. Teeth flashed as he aimed to snap at MONSTER or DELINNE, depending on who's face was closer at the time, his body thrust unceremoniously towards PALADIN before he lurched into a half-rear. His haunches supported him well, still sound and a stronger quarter of his body than his front any day. Fore hooves aimed to rake at front knees of DELINNE as Ricochet lurched forward, teeth snapping at DELINNE as he went down to land.
The moment his four hooves were back on the ground he shoved with his rear, intending to push through past DELINNE and stride away from the mob, circling back up behind them to face Paladin. More than anything Ricochet needed to catch his breath and give his forehand a rest. It ached constantly now, the grass no longer a kind cushion, he might as well have been running on steel in his opinion.
[537 words :: summary- Ricochet barrels into the fray of: Ned, Psyche, Giselle, Kri, Paladin, Delinne and Monster. He mainly aims his left shoulder at Paladin, Monster and Delinne. He throws a stray buck at Monster. Coming out the other side of the group he spins around and lurches back in, rearing towards Delinne with nips and his forehooves trying to scrape her knees. He lands and tries to break in-between Delinne to escape the mob and breathe.]
a gun in your hand don't make you a man. |
[Sorry to post ahead of some reactions, no other time to do it.]
His mind is spinning. The ring of bodies battering each other and horns locking is like a sickly sweet music jingling in his ears. It makes him sick, but not an illness of the gut, that of the heart. Being in a battle of this magnitude takes him back home, back to Salka. His heart constricts in his throat threatening to choke him as visions of his brothers and sisters seem to replace those strangers fighting alongside him. His wings cup the sky and he can almost feel Luin astride him, urging him on with her lilting voice.
His eyes blur, caught with tears. So much for taking his sadness and making it into anger. All he can do is drown in misery.
His mind is spinning. It makes the world look lopsided, the clouds hazy and the ground a rapid hand reaching for him.
No, it's not his mind, it's the world.
A feeble cry leaves his lips as he spins back towards the cruel ground. His wings slap the wind but the force of MAUJA'S unexpected and athletic interference has can him back to gravity's kingdom. The horn leaves a red, weeping gash across his chest, but this is the least of his worries as his wing crumples under his body weight. The fragile sound brings a hysterical shriek from the horned bird. He staggers like a drunkard to his feet, vibrant blue now smeared crimson.
He sways, eyes fogged with hate and pain and despair, as he regards both DEIMOS and MAUJA.
The Edge of the World is gone. These unicorns are gone.
Jaydan is in Salka again. Jaydan is fighting goblins again.
He loaths goblins.
Blood splutters from his mouth as his lip mutter something in his foreign tongue, reside of a bitten cheek from his crash landing. He bows his neck and holds his horn steady, the bared teeth of a wounded animal pressed into a corner. Yet Jaydan is not alley cat, he's a trained and skilled warrior and though he has little intention of living past today, he doesn't hope to let them leave without adding some more color to them.
Spitting out the blood froth collecting in his lips Jaydan charges. His broken wing flaps uselessly at his right side while his other tucks neatly on his back. His horn is leveled at MAUJA'S chest as he comes at the king head first. He lets his left wing flare up suddenly just before impact, hoping to distract and disorient the king that likely has little practice fighting flying swords.
As Jaydna's head thrusts low he shoves it back up in the hope of ripping MAUJA from the breast to his throat. In the breaths just following that movement though Jaydan does not hesitate, his hooves dancing as easily on the grass as they do the clouds. He swings his haunches left, ideally colliding them into MAUJA'S side so he can press himself against the appaloosa and keep the frosty horn at a closer range. Blue eyes are wary of DEIMOS, teeth poised to snap at the black brute should he draw near while Jaydan's main focus is on humping up and dealing a quick succession of low, short, cow-kicks at MAUJA'S right hind leg. Each rise and fall of his haunches sends a new wave of red flowing out of the grin on his chest. The blood runs down his legs and pools at his hooves, but the madness in his does not care for such trivial things as eventual unconsciousness. He only cares about killing them.
Jaydan's teeth and his hooves flash in almost relentless fashion, his horn kept tucked on his neck like a taut bowstring, ready to gore whoever gets in his way of slaying goblins.
[627 words :: summary- Jaydan is knocked to the ground by Mauja, his chest torn and bleeding. His right wing breaks in the fall. He charges at Mauja's chest with his horn and flares his left wing as a distraction. He swings his hips left into Mauja's right side to buck at Mauja's right hind, while keeping teeth aimed for Deimos if he comes to close. Basically goes into kicking/flailing berserk frenzy.]
 |
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.3 hh :: 38 months |
| Alex |
09-27-2012, 09:56 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-27-2012, 10:00 PM by Official.)
A murderer's blood hits the air and there is a hiss as fire boils it in an instant. I cannot see Arbutus' claws biting into flesh, but I can hear the satisfactory call of a thousand birds singing at once and know that he has hit his mark. There is a mixture of fear and satisfaction bubbling in my breast as I realize how serious this has truly become. What was once a desire to protect has turned into a need to survive, an order and license to kill. The power and control is intoxicating, the rage building, and the desire to kill...
No, surely it cannot be there. I find myself jostled by the horrifying thoughts that have crept into my mind, and when my hooves fail to strike the dorsal of my opponent, I am unsure as to whether or not I am dissatisfied or relieved. My wings feel disconnected from my body as the flames consume Descaro, and I leave myself open to his attack. His hooves find purchase upon my left stifle, and the daggers tear flesh instantly. The pain is searing and all concentration is lost. As I fall to an unsteady landing, I watch Descaro run.
"Coward!" I cry, speaking out for the first time since the battle has begun. "Your fate will find you, no matter how far you run- You cannot escape your sins!" the cry is chilling, haunted by pain both physical and mental. Pain from my past, from what he and so many others have done. That capacity to kill that lies within any breast, but it is a select, terrible few that ever let it rule them. That is what separates the two of us, what will always make me better than him.
But a monster is a monster- and perhaps I would have let him go simply for that. But it is the unsettling sensation within my gut as the blood begins to flow and Arbutus wheels towards me recklessly before flying out of sight and away from the bloodshed, as I watch Leander await death unexpectedly, that drives me forward.
Every step is brutality. My hocks have never done well on such a land, my legs have always felt weak. Now, with blood draining from my leg at a rapid speed, I find myself further hindered. The world around me feels blurry, the cooling heat of my wings as they flare out odd and uncomfortable. But I do not stop, I never stop.
I come from behind the massive stallion, the strange killer that has haunted me for so long as one of many who wished me dead upon my birth. My body swerves dangerously towards his left flank and my head coils down in an effort to both protect my neck and strike him with my horn. Ideally, I could puncture the tender flesh between the shoulder and the girth, but a weakness from falls and the sound of my own blood falling, falling onto the earth hinders me. Strange how I have never noticed the sound of blood before, strange how in the midst of war cries all I can hear is my own pain.
[[WC: 530 || M/CU: 2/2 (As of last round with Arbutus' second attack) || SUM: Tares is hit in her left stifle by Descaro's hooves and begins to lose blood. She then runs after him, approaching him from behind and aiming for his left girth/shoulder area with her horn pointed down, hoping to puncture the flesh. Blood loss, physical aching of the hocks, and general weakness from her initial fall hinder her accuracy.]]
|
Mirage the DragonHeart Posts: 414
| Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 15.3 :: Eighteen HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
|
Akaith :: Royal Golden Dragon :: Fire Breath
Whit |
Energy was endless, entropy and chaos stirred within the mare. Fatigue may have tried to slow her movements, but still they rolled on swift and accurate. Practise and fitness allowed her this, not to mention the arabic blood that leant her stamina and swiftness, and the draft blood that gifted her with a strength that wasn't always apparent. Akaith warbled above her, reacting to the intensities of feelings roiling within the mare. The sweat, the blood, even the tears that burned behind her eyes, sent her mind into a frenzy. The pain from her change, from the strike he made against her barrel pulled upon her fragile mental foundations, wore her down - she had to focus in order to continue.
So she did focus, upon her chosen target. CINEVIAM moves with her, the attempts she made to strike him down lessening in impact as a result. A normal horse would have expressed the sheer rage - Mirage only flicked an ear, and with nothing more evidenced but cool, collectedness, she decided upon her next move. The rage was her energy, the sheer magnitude of it deadly to caress, who knew what damage could be wrought by it. White glistened around the edges of her eyes, a hint to the madness that was barely contained within the pressure of the battle. The yearning, the desire to obtain this land so strong within her now, the determination and sheer want to prove herself worthy to her allies, her kin, her family all pinned now, upon this stallion of ashen properties.
Her forelegs feel nothing but air as they strike for his hindlegs, and with her proximity she feels his bunching muscles prepare for an act that had the potential to leave her worse than just bruised. He backs up to her, and she mimics the action, sitting upon her haunches and reversing, legs scrambling to make her motion even faster than his own. With a snort she realises her left shoulder is still in range to his sharp kick, and as if in slow motion she sees the inevitable unfold. A sharp hoof catches upon the point of her left shoulder and pectoral muscle, the bruising immediate, the swelling likely to set in once the rush of the battle ceased her bodice from moving, and allowed the blood to clot and grossly enlarge the area. Recovery would be a bitch, if they did not win.
Pain shudders down her left foreleg from the impact, while CINEVIAM threw two hooves at her, only one makes contact, the other floating harmlessly off to the great expanse of space to her left. The little shadow continues to try and back up, leaning further on her hind end to relieve the loss of strength and security that foreleg has to offer her now. It is then she sees the wall of smoke encroaching upon her, feels its ashy claws roll over her form, up her legs, into her nostrils and mouth. Had she been a dragon, this would not have troubled her so; smoke and ash were a dragon's diet when one blew flame, but she was a mare, an equine, with lungs sensitive to the by-products of fire, and with the right side of her barrel wincing and causing the coughs to shudder all the more violently, she convulsed and took several moments to expel the choking smoke from her lungs. The tears behind her eyes pooled into greater droplets, a natural response from her own body to protect the orbs that would allow her to watch as her beloved mate entered the fray.
He protected her, took a hit and laid a strike upon her when she most assuredly required him to. That fury and rage ran rampart within her, but it was cooled slightly by the love and gratitude she felt as the dragon-stallion used his body as a battering ram against his opponent. Not a breath after he passed, while CINEVIAM was coming back to the ground from his rear, Mirage surged forth again, bounding straight into a canter, grinding her teeth against the discomfort felt in her left fore. In VIKRAM's wake, the little shadow meant to use CINEVIAM's shifted centre of balance against him, knock him down to the ground with her right shoulder, and pound him with her legs, notably her right foreleg, given her left side was incapacitated. With the injuries she had sustained thus far, however, her attack was less than it could have been had she been unharmed, but with the weakness of CINEVIAM's position, she might have the advantage. Should her attempt fail, the mare would not make the same mistake twice, and would simply continue cantering onwards, several metres away from the dappled steed, to wait and see what would come.
[798 words.
Summary:
Mirage feels CINEVIAM backing up to her and does the same, attempting to move quicker to lessen the impact. Her attempt to dodge half-works, but she still take a hit upon her left pectoral muscle/point of shoulder area on her chest. This causes her left foreleg to be considerably weaker.She keeps trying to back up, but cannot escape the cloud of smoke he sends out to her, and coughs violently because of it, taking a moment longer to recover due to the aching in her ribs from his previous attack.
She sees VIKRAM enter the fray, and in his wake, she canters forth and tries to knock CINEVIAM over while he is just coming down from his rearing attack against Vikram.]
| Deceased |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 15.1 :: 8 |
| Whit |
Up, higher, faster..
Wings beat furiously at his sides, foamy droplets of sweat forming from the effort to get himself in the air. It was amazing the difference that his now-faulty hindleg made in his ascent, the lesser push off meant he had to compensate for the loss in forceful leap with the greatly accelerated wing usage. The effort to regain the height he had before his plummet to land atop AURELIUS was phenomenal, and left him nearing the point of exhaustion. But he was not there yet. Scanning the vicinity, he watched, with anger, as the little goat seemed to bounce straight back up, and despite being blind, and seemingly unaffected by Azzuen's hard hooves crashing onto his spine, smashed up two others legs. Azzuen was ropable, he thought it was more likely for the little goat to accidently hit one of his own team than one of the Qian's allies, and yet there it all happened. LACE seemed to be the worst affected, though another, TORASIN, whom Azzuen recognised as a steed who directly aided in their invading the Throat, also was injured.
Azzuen watched as TORASIN used his dragon to round up the little goat, and spying a dash of white above LACE, he called to the silver grulla and his companion, "Have your white work with the brown!" It was an order, shouted in a coarse and rugged warrior's voice, manipulated around the spear he held in his mouth, it was a demand that allowed little deviation. Flapping his wings he rapidly closed in upon where AURELIUS was, wanting the little pipsqueak to pay for his insults. Twirling the spear in his mouth, the stallion grinned around it, now focussing upon his magic again, upon AURELIUS, again.
This time, he found all of AURELIUS' painful spots, the bruises his own hooves had left, the aching his head would surely be feeling after hitting all those targets. And just as he had switched the nerves off previously, he did the opposite now, and recruited all of the nerves in AURELIUS' body to feel that pain. If AURELIUS had a papercut, it would feel like someone was hacking into it with an axe. A large bruise upon his loin? Azzuen had no doubt it would feel like the goat-stallion's spine was breaking, crippling him. This was what Azzuen wanted, he wanted to cripple the pesky little goat that had wrought so much damage.
The charcoal stallion swooped from his position above, and pointed his spear ahead of himself. He did not land, for his leg would not cope, but while the effects of his magic would still linger, and would still hopefully be crippling little AURELIUS, he slashed the silver tip at the goat-stallion, hoping the dragons nearby would also take advantage of the situation and use their flames against him. Azzuen didn't mind if he felt fire against his pelt once more, the beating of his wings usually kept the flames from catching upon his hairs. As his swoop began to pass by AURELIUS, Azzuen kicked out with his good right hind leg, hoping to knock the little turd aside, perhaps render him unconscious… anything would do.
[530 words
Summary:
Azzuen rises to the air once more, watches angrily as AURELIUS runs off and crashes into Lace and Torasin -> sees Kiba trying to round up AURELIUS and encourages Fajira to do the same -> chases AURELIUS down and uses his magic on him to intensify AURELIUS' pain so that the goat is crippled by it -> swoops down on AURELIUS striking out with his spear -> kicks out with his right hind leg before he rises again ]
| Hidden Falls Curiosus II |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 hh :: 15 Buff: NOVICE |
|
Dezba :: Black Jaguar :: Stormcall
Ina |
| |
As she ran after NED, the mare watched as he galloped away. She exposed her teeth as him and hissed in a scream.
"Coward!" The horned mare screamed after him, suddenly aware of the fact that PALADIN was following her. She glanced back just as he tried to bite her in the neck, and almost dropped her jaw when she saw MONSTER appear.
Where did he come from?!
Dell jumped away from both MONSTER and PALADIN, watching as the stallion that was such a faithful "pet" to Mauja got bitten by the damned unicorn. 'Thank you, MONSTER', she thought with a sigh of relief.
The mare turned her head to NED again, though he was too far away now even if she ran as fast as she could. He fought the mare that Dell had tried to protect, attacking her over and over again. She glanced back at PALADIN, careful so that she wouldn't hit MONSTER, and slung her hind legs in the air - aiming for PALADIN'S body. Any part of his body was more than welcome to get hit by her sharp hooves.
Dell had never felt such a rage before the invasion, not even as a youngster. Even though she turned 7 soon, since she was born under the eye of the Orangemoon, the mare felt like it was only yesterday that she had been raped and kicked by the stallions she'd grown up with.
But this was different times, this was a different battle than she'd experienced before.
She hissed at the stallion she kicked at, just like she had at NED. Though there were no words this time.
The wound on her left side hurt, even though the blood had dried long ago. The flesh was ripped, making it hanging down in disgusting strips of skin. It looked horrible, and Dell was pissed because of it.
Both because of the fact that it hurt like hell and it looked so disgusting that you would want to puke.
Even the whitish surface of her ribs were vaguely visible among the strips of muscles and flesh.
'To hell with this, I want to get these fuckers out of here.' This battle had awaken the long hidden dark side of her, a side that she hadn't seen since she was young.
After this, she would never be the same and she knew it.
Word count: 395
OCC: Well.. This sucked.
Walk, walk, walk.
"Talk, talk, talk."
'Think, think, think.'
| | |
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 10 |
| Adoptable |
 Well, fuck that! From the right came something large and dark, topping her own height with a few inches but decidedly heavier, bulkier - very hornless, too. A sneer cut across her dark muzzle, her stride punctuated by the rhythmic exhalations of air from her lungs, even as the quick roan bitch swerved around to the newcomer's other side. Side by side, one so much shorter than the other that it nearly made Alan laugh to glance at, they came towards her, too cowardly to let her deal with this peaches-and-cream bastard alone. With the wind whipping her thick mane into a stormcloud around her head and her bruises aching, Alan leaned into the movement. Gray hooves found traction upon the churned ground, scraped haunches pushing faster and leaking blood as she urged herself into a burst of speed. Her horn slammed into some part of the golden infidel's body, and delight swept through Alan. She had to cherish what victories she could get, because she was a heartbeat from disaster. TORASIN stood poised in a rear, her pursuers were upon her, and she became acutely aware of how unfair it was with three on one.
She flung her head down and without any consideration for what it might to do the poor rearing sod's balance she tossed herself to the right, not caring if her own left side slammed into his belly or hip and upended him. He belonged in the dirt anyway.
Barely had her horn left Torasin's tendon as MASKAN slammed painfully into her retreating hind end, her sprint and slight shift in direction setting his aim off - a good thing that, as she had no desire to be trampled in the muck by his bulk. His chest pushed against her thigh, jarring her left hind leg as she fought to move with him and somehow counter the rotation at the same time. Teeth pinched the skin to the right of her spine, even as KIARA slung some stupid sentence in her face. "Bitch!" Alan leered happily and swallowed the pain. Desperately she threw her shoulder Kiara's way, trying to break out from the circle of bodies. Damn, she was moving in too many directions at the same time - her haunches were still skittering to the left from the impact of the stallion, finding little traction to put force behind her blow towards Kiara. Alan more stumbled forward than anything else which might've masqueraded as an attack. Their bodies collided, a stinging impact upon her right shoulder and forearm as she staggered back to the left, trying to brace against the force and not fall over. Teeth landed upon her neck, and in retaliation, she snapped towards any part of the roan she could reach.
Her escape was quite the failure and her blood kept pumping furiously, haunches shoved back to the right as Torasin impacted on her, forcing her and her aching right shoulder back against Kiara and offering her enough support so she didn't topple to the ground. Damn it, couldn't they make up their minds about which direction they wanted her to go in? At least none of them had managed to trample her feet and sensitive fetlocks, but she'd remember each and every one of these bastards for as long as her body ached, which would likely be a few days. Gritting her teeth, Alan refrained from thinking about her dire situation. Being trapped between Kiara and Torasin's bodies had her feeling quite bruised and deflated, but her sturdy ribs seemed uncracked at least. Something unexpectedly stole the peach stallion's attention and brought a feathered menace with it. Hissing, Alan aimed a halfhearted buck in TORASIN's direction, a quick kick like a farewell kiss to his painted butt, before she tried to push off again, to slam the shorter KIARA aside with her battered right shoulder and break into the open, away from these indecisive idiots caving in on her.
[ 659 ]
( Sprints and tries to angle to the right just as MASKAN and KIARA come upon her, possibly smacking into TORASIN's left side/hip as he rears. Maskan hits her hindquarters and bites her next to her spine, and she starts skittering around but tries to "charge" at Kiara, but it's more like stumbling forward. Her neck is bitten, she snaps back, Torasin pushes her haunches back to the right, and Alan fires off a quick kick towards Torasin before trying to escape under Kiara's nose and off on her right side. )
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| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3 :: 8 |
| Epona |
L E A N D E R After all you fell in love with death
"Faelene"
He spoke her name in the fray, hoping. Hoping the emotion in his voice and in his face would be enough to tell her what he wanted to say. To tell her that he couldn't bear to see her die here, couldn't bear to watch her get torn apart by his allies. To make sure that she knew he would never hurt her, no matter what. If only she would get out of here. At that moment, bronze eyes caught sight of a dark form rushing at his side. Haunches spun re-actively, but not quick enough. The sharp, familiar feeling of horn stabbed into his hindquarter and scraped along a portion of his side.
Pain wrought across his visage, triggering memories better off forgotten. Images of a Unicorn looming over him, slashing at him with it's damned sword. The past flashed behind his ivory-ringed gaze, fueling his rage. Turning away from FAELENE's charge, and leaving himself vulnerable to her will, the palomino lowered his head and charged at DESCARO. He was wary of the brute's horn, ready to whip away from the dagger if it came towards his face or vital parts. Ivory teeth were bared and lunged for DESCARO's throat. He might regret it if he killed one of Faelene's herd-mates, but now his instincts were in control. If his teeth managed to find Descaro's throat or neck, he would latch on tight and then rip away hard, hopefully tearing part of the beast's neck open. If Descaro tried to stab him again, he would tuck his head and hopefully barrel hard into the stallion's side. Leander only had a moment to wonder if Faelene would hurt him in the process. He wasn't sure; the golden charger only knew that he would not harm her. Tawny pools saw a onyx Unicorn coming in behind his target, one of his fellow Throat soldiers. Together, he and the black mare (Tares) should have little trouble rendering this horned boy useless.
[Word Count: 340 ]
[ Leander turns his hindquarters towards Descaro, but is still hit by his horn-charge. He sustains a long scrape from his haunch along a part of his side. He turns away from Faelene, leaving himself vulnerable to an attack from her if she chooses. He charges towards Descaro, aiming a bite at his throat.]
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 [OOC: Strictly speaking, Azzuen wouldn’t be able to see Aurelius crash into Lace, because Lace was attacked before Azzuen was.]
The small stallion was panting as the pain spread from where he had been hit by Azzuen’s weight. It was just his luck that his spine had not been hit, but instead the soft part between ribs and hip on the right side. He felt the tissue swell, a nice hematoma forming under the skin and impairing his gait slowly but surely, blood dripping down his side from where hooves had cut through. Aurelius’ sight was now restored completely, and as he cantered on, he tried to relieve his aching right side from some of the weight. Inside his skull, his brain felt like one big, throbbing mush, and his rump had been seared, a big chunk of his once full tail burned away. Left was the cherry-red skin, blistering and tight, wet with blood and plasma and with chunks of burnt hair sticking out here and there. It was probably lucky Aurelius could not see, or he would’ve possibly passed out; the pain had nearly done that for him already.
Suddenly a dragon dropped from the sky above and turned its ferocious face towards him. The glimpse of fire within the frothing jaws was enough to make him shiver inside. Hell no, you won’t get me twice! The dwarven steed thought, hearing Azzuen shout commands from somewhere in the sky above him. So, he has not given up on me yet, he thought, knowing now to watch out for attacks coming from above. Gathering his thoughts, he made a sharp left in his wobbling gait, knowing better than to turn back in the same direction. Mauja had warned him to stay away from the dragons; now he certainly felt on his own body what the consequences of disregarding that command had been.
Suddenly, his headache intensified extremely, making him feel like his head was splitting in two. The dwarven steed screamed in pain, feeling close to blackening out for real this time. KEEP GOING! he shouted at himself voicelessly; if he halted now, it could very well be the end of him. It was pure instinct of survival that kept him moving, the strongest, most basic reflex in a flight-animal. As long as he was moving, he would be alright; that was how mother nature had made him. His gait had slowed to a stumbling trot, vision blurred by sheer pain this time, his world spinning.
The stirring winds from large wings being flapped above him caught his attention, and as he forced himself to fight the headache and look up, the spear was coming right at him. Luckily, as he was still moving, so Azzuen’s aim was considerably weakened, and Aurelius managed to dodge to the side in a nick of time. A nick was what he got on his shoulder from the spear, seeping blood slowly as he bucked up and flung his sturdy hind legs at the pegasus as the black steed was ascending again. The pain from his strained loin made him yelp in pain, but soon enough, he was off again, turned around and kept waddling in hopes to get lost in some of the confusion.
He felt his headache recede slightly, allowing him to think more clearly. It’s okay, nothing is broken. You can do this, keep on moving, one hoof in front of the other. The group with Faelene, Descaro and LEANDER was coming up ahead and the small steed saw his chance to make some sort of damage, even if he was injured. Trotting up behind slightly to the right of LEANDER, Aurelius aimed a hard bite at the stallions thigh above the hock, hoping to hit and draw blood. Stepping back a few steps, he tried to get out of range of kicking hooves, always keeping his attention divided between the present situation and any lurking danger from other sides. The hurt from his loin, the burn and his nicked shoulder made him considerably slower to react than usual, weakening his aim a little.
[664 words]
[Summary: Was burned on the croup by Fajira pretty severely, much of his tail seared away as well. Azzuen’s attack resulted in a hematoma to the muscle tissue in his loin, aside from a bleeding gash, rendering his gait wobbling and considerably slower. Sees Kiba and decides to head in a different direction, thus not trapped as Torasin had hoped. Regains his sight just in time for Azzuen to increase the pain of his headache, which slows him down further and makes him disorientated with pain. Luckily, he avoids the spear-dive barely, getting his shoulder nicked. He bucks and kicks at Azzuen’s legs as he takes back to air, then waddles over and aims a hard bite to Leander’s thigh while said pegasus is busy fighting others.] |
| Deceased |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 16 |
| Whit |
[ OOC: My apologies regarding Azzuen's misconception of Lace being hit after he had laid his attack. I misread when I was backreading. ]
Three against one suited Maskan perfectly. He was all for fair fighting, but all was fair in love and war. And Maskan, well, he loved war. He feels KIARA come to his side, welcomes her presence, adjust his own attacks as she does so. Satisfied, at least minimally by the taste of her sweaty fur between his teeth, he does wish that she had fallen over, so that he could have pounded her properly to a pulp. Never mind, he would cope with what he was given. The personal to-and-fro's between the mares KIARA and ALAN are ignored by the brute, his ears lay plastered beneath his thick mane, his focus upon the bay unicorn who seemed determined to give her all against the painted palomino TORASIN. Maskan pulls back just as ALAN lunges at KIARA with her dull teeth. He moved carefully around to her left as TORASIN peeled away from them, and as a consequence to this decision, Maskan felt the kick that was meant for TORASIN from ALAN. It landed upon his right pectoral, his right foreleg felt sharp, jolting pains fly down it - he was quite lame.
He was momentarily stilled in his motions by the attack that was meant for TORASIN, eyes watching the unicorn mare try and ram her way through the smaller roan belle, KIARA. With what one could only describe as an equine snarl upon his face, he chomped his teeth together with a sharp snapping sound and made to move after her. He jumped straight into a canter, it was unsteady, uneven, but held more momentum than a trot. He approached the mare's left side, angled from behind, but kept out of range of those pesky, powerful hindquarters of hers until the last moment. Lancing out with his flashing teeth, he aimed for the soft, tender flesh of her flank, just where the fur whorled and stretched behind the curve of her ribs and the movement of her stifle. If he was lucky, he might be able to grab a firm hold upon her skin, and pull at it until it ripped open. The stallion wanted blood.
Madyrn was faring less well than his brother. He was being hunted, the predator had turned into prey, the crippled mouse weakly limping before a maniac, grinning cat. It was all he could do to focus upon putting some distance between himself and the monster, the demonic drinker of souls DEIMOS who was so keen destroy his flame. Sculpted ears laid low to his skull, not completely in annoyance, but largely with fatigue, and tried to focus, the clear his head.
But that was half the problem. Madyrn was used to fighting with nothing but a cloud of rage and fury blurring his vision, it was his method, his prerogative as a warrior. Teeth clenched within his jaw, and he fed his anger more, fed his rage, and used it to build up enough energy to face this demon. A bellow echoed from his lungs as he felt the horn pierce his left hind leg, an angry trumpet, mocking his own weakness, furiously opposing the attempts of the stallion to weaken him further. He is falling apart, his right elbow sears with the burn of hot blood dribbling down it, the right side of his haunches feel weak and throb with each stride, and now his left leg gains a laceration, a slice of flapping skin bouncing against flesh and bloody muscle, rendering his stride at best, choppy, slow, and unsteady.
He turns to the left now, unwittingly bracing himself for the flurry of feathers that is JAYDAN. He backs up now, hopping tenderly from one foot to the other, as the scramble of DEIMOS and JAYDAN unfolds. JAYDAN is off again, after a unique attack that only one with wings could ever hope to accomplish, and Madyrn was left facing his demon once more. But Madyrn had several moments with which to compose himself - or rather, allow his rage to build further within him - and surged forth again, prepared for the onslaught of fatigue nearness to this stallion would cause him, and so he attempted an attack that utilised gravity just as much as his own strength. It was a poor choice, he would later reflect, given the weakness of his hindquarters, but still, he leaned back and reared, striking out with his left foreleg to hit the grey DEIMOS on the right side of his nape, flailing with his right one but unable to direct it accurately towards a target.
[761 words.
Summary:
Maskan pulls back as ALAN and KIARA go at each other a bit -> swerves around ALAN and takes the kick she intended for TORASIN on the right side of his chest -> charges after her and aims a bite for her left flank.
Madyrn allows his anger to build up and rally against the affects of DEIMOS' presence -> he gets lanced by DEIMOS' horn on his left hindquarter, but misses the shoulder ram thanks to JAYDAN's distraction -> he turns back to DEIMOS and weakly attempts to rear and strike him, mostly using his left foreleg as his right is quite useless, along with his whole backend! ]
Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE |
| RayoDeSoleil |
You can sleep with a gun but When you gonna wake up and fight?
Sometimes in battle, the world turned red. This was something that was learned at a young age for the shadow-mare. Something that Giselle had taught her, that her father had praised in her. That at some point, the battle-lust and the pain-rage and all sorts of emotions would become more than mere thoughts, mere feelings; they would take over the body, the mind. The sounds of battle – screams of pain, crushing bones, hoofbeats, magic – it all faded away, leaving nothing in the auds but one’s heartbeat, assuring one that life still ran strong through the veins. That even if death was imminent, there was glory for this one moment.
And one moment is all it takes in battle. When the world runs red with spilled blood, time stops; every second holds a different thought, a different strike, a different charge. Some may call it chaos, but for Psyche, it was beauty. This was her element. And she had a few surprises left, yet.
Blood ran from her nape, her side. It was not a distraction, but rather powered her onward. Her pain was nothing compared to what she would wreak on this poor soul. Sure, in days to come, she would wince at every move as skin knitted itself back together. She may have to fight infection. But it this moment, those thoughts were a weakness, and Psyche was not weak.
Her focus was honed in now on NED. Traitorous bastard. There was nothing worse than a traitor to one’s own kind. And he was skilled, too, in this battle – almost skilled enough for her lethal thoughts to be a shame. But no. He was trying to take her home, the sacred place of the horned. And this would not do. She had been following at a full gallop, she was prepared for him to put up a fight. As NED slowed, Psyche tossed her head up and away, her body following in a dodge to the left; despite her ignorance of her wound, it slowed her, and solid hooves met her right shoulder. Considerably lighter than what he meant, she was sure, but it would leave a nice bruise nonetheless.
The steed twisted, the wrong direction; he was to her right now, and it seemed he’d been aiming for her left. A grin spread across her maw as she planted her front hooves and propelled all of her force into her haunches; hooves sliced through air. If NED did not react quickly enough, the way he was turning would lead his throat right into her path. And then her hooves touched down again. Not pausing to reflect on whether or not she had met her mark, the mare was off, getting out of NED’s range.
[W/C 456
Defense:Swerves to the left to avoid Ned's kick, but it still hits her on the shoulder, leaving a nice bruise; Ned completely misses with his horn, having turned toward his right to go for her left.
Attack: As Ned turns, she kicks out, aiming for his throat. Psyche then continues her forward movement, hoping to get out of range.]
Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think.
Psyche |
Some success finally came when Lloyd crashed down on RICOCHET’s forearm; though not the injury he was hoping to inflict, it still was something. Even if he and his brother were powerful, they were not the most agile of things. As the bull aimed another buck at the dunskin, his head was low to the ground, and the filthy pet of RICOCHET’s ran straight for his head. With teeth bared, it lunged at Lloyd’s face. But he was ready. He saw the mutt coming and returned the attack, biting at the dog’s muzzle before it could attack him properly so its jaw merely snapped shut on air.
”Are you ok brother?” he nodded briefly as LUCIUS. RICOCHET then took off, chasing after PALADIN and NED. Lloyd did not follow; he couldn’t of if he wanted to. MIDAS, the painted prick from Dragons Throat returned from the sky. Before Lloyd could even think what to do, his older brother stepped in to help with magic, sending MIDAS closer to the ground, if not down completely.
In unison with his twin, he bounded forward at MIDAS. If the winged beast still remained to hover, Lloyd would thrash his head, trying to slice the Pegasus’ legs and underside. He would then rear up on his hind legs, and grab at the patched stallions throat, trying to injure and bring him down to ground level. If however, MIDAS had fallen onto the floor, then as LUCIUS was coming down on their victims belly, Lloyd would try to trample the wings, disabling the ability to fly, and to hopefully cause a lot of pain for the Pegasus.
[I'm real tired, so if this post is suckish, my apologies]
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| World's Edge Skilled Protector |
| Stallion :: Hybrid :: 19 hh :: 9 years Buff: NOVICE |
| Kachie |
09-28-2012, 11:20 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-28-2012, 11:26 PM by Tamme.)
There was a satisfying thump against his shoulder as the hybrid stud collided with the gray stallion, and Vikram veered away from the reaching horn that sought to rend his left wing into ribbons. The dodge was partially successful, as it saved the relatively fragile appendage from damage, but the tip of Cineviam's horn scored a gash along his side above his wing.
Snorting against the pain, aware of the sensation of blood flowing warm and wet onto the leathery surface of the sails of his wing, Vikram slowed as he continued past, and turned about as well as he could with the intent to come after the unicorn once more. And then cold hit him, out of nowhere, reaching into his veins with icy fingers that sought to tear him apart from the inside out. Stunned, Vikram stumbled to a halt, eyes wide as he processed this strange sensation. It was lucky for the DragonSon that the fire that resided, still untouched, deep within his gut made such a fantastic furnace. It kept the ice from penetrating into sensitive internal organs, warmed the blood in his heart and the air in his lungs. Yet there was still a battle of magic before the ice stopped probing, still precious seconds that seemed like hours while the heated blood eked through ice coated veins. It was excruciatingly painful, and he stood still as a statue to avoid stabbing sensations that ran through any part of him that moved.
Instinctively he drew upon his fire bladder, feeling the liquid flame churn and rise, bubbling up his throat and chasing away the cold that fogged his mind and his eyes. It seemed to speed the heat that raced through him, until even the tips of his wings and the end of his tail were hot. Almost too hot. Golden eyes sharpened, gleaming with the fire within. Gone was anger, replaced with a grim determination. Whoever was responsible for that... would burn. But first, to deal with the fire that had bubbled up to the back of his mouth. He stalked forward, toward Mirage and CINEVIAM, a delivered a deliberate and concentrated stream of fire at the unicorn's left side, away from Mirage.
Then he gave a low growling snarl, eyes lifting to scan the battlers. He knew it wasn't his nearest foe who had done that, and his mind was quick to link the ice spikes of earlier with this recent attack. There. Wings flung themselves wide before he launched himself forward and into the air, ignoring the small pains of wing and side from earlier injuries. He flew, closing the distance rapidly, ignoring all else except the FrostHeart. He swooped, touched earth as he drew up the last of his fire, jaws parting over a massive fireball that raced ahead of him at MAUJA's side, heedless of any who stood nearby (JAYDAN, DEIMOS, MADRYN) that might be burnt. Snapping jaws and sheer mass followed, seeking to catch hold of the spotted stallion and drive him into the ground.
[506 words, 2/2 magic
Defense: Veered right away from Cineviam's horn attack, is gouged on left side above wing. Is rattled by Mauja's ice attack, but uses his internal fire to battle the cold before any serious damage could be done. Is generally hurting all over.
Attack: Uses flame brought up fighting the cold to blast Cineviam. Recognizes the ice attack as relating to earlier ice spikes, and goes after Mauja. Breathes a fireball at Mauja and charges him with reaching teeth, likely to catch bystanders (Jaydan, Deimos, Madryn) with massive fireball.]
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 :: 9 Buff: NOVICE |
| Sica |
09-28-2012, 11:36 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-30-2012, 09:24 AM by ali.)
The worst possible moment, because whatever else would it have been, Leander came in the way of Ázzuen. All her strength and might had went into getting that damned Pegasus, why did he have to dive in front of them now? Sliding onto her haunches, her front hooves would never make it off the ground. Though she could not be sure if her horn touched him or not. It wouldn't seem so, but she was pulsing with anger, letting her eyes memorize the black general. One day she swore to herself she would return the favor. Familiar feelings of despise and hate went hand and hand for him. He was a bloody coward, unable to keep his sorry, pained ass to the ground, escaping to the skies. She greatly wanted to shred his wings, break them, see how long he would survive without them. It was what she loathed more about them than anything. They had an escape.
"Faelene." Eyes would be darkened like an empty void, no gentleness about them as they would meet the familiar bronze for a brief second. She could almost fall into him feeling the weight of the battle sink in. Her body was starting to tell her all it's faults for her strength, and whatever rush were fading with each trickle of blood both at shoulder, and where her burns had torn. How miserable she felt, even more in his presence. How can she be happy to see him as Descaro's screams would break against her jumbled thoughts. It was not hard to see not only did Tares have wings for fire, but she could use them!
May she be damned too, was her brief thought. It did not take much for her to want the pain returned. All too suddenly things were happening in a blur of back,red, and creamy hide of Leander. Faelene can not move fast enough, as the blood coated soldier comes racing toward the Pegasus, he looked ten times worse than what she felt. There was no doubting his purpose to help her again in this fight. Descaro, the first to prove her kindness in this place, and she had escaped far greater injury by the blood that marred his already red toned hide.
Everything hits her at once, LEANDER turning away from her to meet DESCARO. TARES directing herself for DESCARO to give him another blow. Another agonizing lift of her right leg, the sharp shooting pains of soreness and misery give her welcome. A muted sound for her battle wounds would emit in her next breath. Part of her would crumble, in the motion as she followed to keep with LEANDER. She had to dig deep for courage to move, but DESCARO's blood was enough. LEANDER the closest target, it was him she knew she had to stop. Tares would have been better, but everything was against her. Faelene would throw herself toward LEANDER's golden haunches, with an open mouth to nip or hold the skin of his flank, something to keep him from ripping DESCARO any more. It was a very weak attempt, as the fibers in her muscles felt like they would shred.
Word Count:547
SUMMARY
Faelene draws herself to a slide trying not to get LEANDER.
When LEANDER charges DESCARO she attempts to move close enough to bite/hold LEANDER's flank/side.
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The sting of teeth pinching his skin didn’t bother the beast, he’d forgotten the pain as soon as ARCHIBALD’s black form disappeared behind him. But however finished Monster felt with the black shire, the black shire didn’t seem to be finished with the pet. His warrior-magic shook the ground underneath the Monster’s hooves and he lost his balance. Because of that he happened to pull away his horn from PALADIN’s face and fall into the stallion just as a yellow arrow shoot by. Due to his fall towards PALADIN he avoids the back hooves of RICOCHET by half an inch. He can feel the rush of air and anticipates pain, but he is spared.
In spite of the chaos the pet’s eyes managed to find his Master. Mauja is not on fire anymore and he seems fine. The Monster decides to keep battling the horses around him and the magic that follows with his rank as a Conscript begins to rise within him. As the yellow arrow, who is RICOCHET, shoots back in between them the Monster utters a cry that echoes over the battlefield. The roar should affect those around him and hopefully stun them a bit.
The black beast lurches towards RICOCHET as he tried to make his way past the black and white Edge mare. He have no intention of letting the little equine escape. He points his horn towards RICOCHET’s spine and thrust his head forwards at the same time as he kicks with his front hooves, aiming for haunches, hocks or shinbones.
254 words
[Oh my… this is bad.]
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Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
| Deceased |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER |
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Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya
& Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic
Angel |
m i d a s
BEYOND HERE LIES NOTHINGMagic. A blessing and a curse all wrapped into one tight little package. Midas would have normally been a fan of such vibrant abilities, even to the point of admiration. But--right now, in this moment; magic had become the bane of his life. The exact moment it came, he could not tell—everything had been rather sudden. He hadn’t even seen the twin LUCIUS come upon them so quickly. Just as his body had decided to flee skyward—the life power of another came upon him. It swamped his soul and riddled body with weights that his wings couldn’t dream to hold. He didn’t strain against the power, and merely submitted.
A snarling gasp rose and a silent string of fruitful choice words followed forth, wings snapped shut to ride close to sweaty hide. Body angled toward dirt with forelimbs bending for hard impact. Amidst falling, weight shifted to his rear. Hidequarters bunched up as the centering part of his weight landed the bottom half of his body first before slamming the front half hatefully down. A small part of his mind registered the pain that only a knee shocking blow could absorb. No doubt. He was going to be sore by this time tomorrow.
Only when he was totally grounded and gasping for breath did the weighting power suddenly leave his frame just as quickly as it had come. Skull twisted up, yellowed teeth bared with renewed budding spite for the beasts that seemed to favor causing grief. Plus, to make matters worse, he hadn’t felt connection for a single attack upon LLOYD thrice he had attempted to cause damage, and thrice been denied. Despite the disheartening knowledge, such thoughts had to be pushed aside; he didn’t have time to dwell on what had passed on the battle field. Actions could only focus on what was to come.
LUCIUS came, charging forward like a rouge ram, following right beside LLOYD, who twisted to join. Mostly unscathed.
They shouldered hands taller than him; lucky he wasn’t as small as most. Undaunted by their unfair actions of two against one, he surged forward; totally unwilling to be tamed by such sinful beasts. Golden orbs ablaze with fueled anger, Midas aimed for LLOYD choosing not to target LUCIUS for first round of counter attack. The choice was rewarded with the ebony twin veering off to find other prey. Leaving him and LLOYD to dance steps as old as time.
Using smaller size to an advantage, Midas kept head low to protect neck as he slide up like a striking snake. Ears sliced along his skull, and wings tightened their hold across his side until they had formed a second skin of white. They met headfirst; he twisted to the side and reared up to connect teeth with the side of LLOYD’s skull. Weight set backwards to offer firm balance, he lunged only long enough to offer good chance at savage raking of teeth. Frame twisted round in a half stepping dance until his rear was semi pointed at LLOYD, kicking amidst twist he aimed sharp hooves in the general direction with hopes colliding with a large jaw or throat; knocking the air from his chest would also be nice.
Words: 538
Attack: Pissed that ALL his attacks missed LLOYD, so, he continues to target LLOYD even with another target coming for him. Midas landed on feet with wings tucked close to his body, targeted LLOYD amidst the charging and lunged forward at him with head lowered to the ground. Reared up to attack LLOYD’s head with skull slicing up, directly after lunging Midas fell into a twist and halfway met LLOYD with a kick of both hindlegs. Forelimbs bent to absorb the weight of his attack with only mild protest and discomfort.
Defense: Wings tightly tucked during gravity pull, body leaned back so frame landed upon the ground butt first to absorb shock. Skull lowered during first attack, teeth bared and ears slathered against skull. He is focused upon keeping firm balance upon limbs.
Wounds: Sore knees and limbs from landing roughly to the ground.
 ![[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5388c9b80fe59)
| Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB |
| Heather |
The chaos continues its perilous onslaught, and amongst the twisting mayhem, he was home, breathing in the fanciful whims of foolishness, of predator calculation, of sovereignty and power. From the wicked, deceitful corridors, he stalked his prey, ghosting over rubble, soot, and ash, feeling the ground ache beneath his deadly, carnivore splendor. The ruler and the killer, he relished his catlike pursuit of MADYRN, batting at his prey, fueled by rapacious opulence – then a shadow drifted over the field. Wings, feathers…Pegasus. Swinging his hind, rapidly, quickly, he still didn’t garner enough time to truly escape the crashing, scraping ache of thundering hooves heralded from the sky. JAYDAN’S limbs clipped his left hind, and a tremulous, quaking ache replaced the once dull ailment. A sickening, throbbing pain that would have eclipsed a less formidable being, he scraped against the earth, driving his hooves away, slower, tender. After a safe distance, he doesn’t wait for the being to regain his mobility, swinging, turning, his behemoth body back towards the air-ignited creature, using precious seconds to lower his cranium from the slashing, winding hooves of JAYDAN’s buck. They hit him briefly along the right side of his neck, but otherwise, he remained unscathed. Twisting his head and sword towards the meddlesome, contemptuous beast (for it was certainly spoiling plenty of opportunities for him to unite MADYRN with hell), he swung the long, pointed horn en route of JAYDAN’S hanging hocks. The teeth are another ordeal, but his aching neck allows him to bend and contort away from the crashing ivories.
But the world is once again coated in bedlam. Moments after the Pegasus appeared, so did the icicle sovereign MAUJA, rising to meet the fray of JAYDAN’s clashing daggers. For once, the darkened, nefarious beast is grateful, and swiveled his attention unto the rearing MADYRN. How weak is he now? How crippled has he become? Would one more strike leave him ruined, shattered, disheveled amongst the wreckage of the Edge? His aimed strike knocked against the cretin’s left shoulder, but the licentious demon uses MADYRN’S weakened body to his own devices, shoving, ramming, forcing his bulk into MADYRN’S side. With any luck, he’d topple the intruder into the ground; bear witness to the failed pursuits of a vacuous stranger. Yet – another problem emerges amongst the strangling hellhole. Fire.
The massive ball of flame from VIKRAM licked the ground, racing towards its intended victims. Despite the strain of his limbs, Deimos doesn’t allow the singeing, scorching heat touch his skin, moving away from the precarious fire. But thereafter, he swallowed the distance, glorifying in the close cluster his enemies had formed near him. How beautiful, how splendid, how utterly perfect it would be to watch them squeal in pain, in gut-wrenching agony, in portended torture when he unleashed his wicked, unholy armaments. He extended one warning nod to MAUJA, a sinister bob of the head that fed his designs through the shining duct of his blue gaze, then unchained the vibrant, exotic, nefarious plunge of his baleful, haunting requiem. The noxious, plunging reel of death exuded from his core like a frothing, foaming monster, longing for the chase, yearning for the taste of flesh. Rippling, it curved away from his body in an intangible web of destruction, touching the ground and cursing its livelihood, sinking, slinking, exuding until it cast its lethal shades towards the bundled mass of MADYRN, JAYDAN and VIKRAM, toxic fingers ghosting, whispering, crooning requiems over quivering, quavering hides.
[As JAYDAN flies towards him, his forelegs clip his left hind, reigniting the pain in his left side. He lowers his cranium, hoping to avoid most of JAYDAN’S buck, but feels the hooves make a mark on the right side of his neck. In return, Deimos swings his horn towards JAYDAN’S floating, swinging hocks. He swings his head low enough to miss JAYDAN’S teeth.
When MADYRN closes in, Deimos takes the rear to his left shoulder, but uses this chance to swing his weight into MADYRN, hoping to knock him into the ground. He manages to avoid VIKRAM’s fireball.
He then uses this opportunity to warn MAUJA of impending enchantments, as he unfurls his deadly magic to suck the life out of the nearby cluster (MADYRN, JAYDAN and VIKRAM.]
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