the Rift


Got Your Name On A Matchbook [Auri v. Vol]

Auriel Posts: 122
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.2 Hands :: 3 (Ages Birdsong) HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
prissy
#1
Auriel
A smoky exhale left my lips, dissipating shortly after leaving my lungs. My pale, almost yellow, amber eyes surveyed the thistle meadow, my gaze unyielding and narrowed. It was a clear morning, no clouds scattered in the sky or fog lingering near the ground. The air was cool, not cold enough to leave me with a chill, just brisk enough to rejuvenate my spirit.

When I joined the Edge I made the decision to become a protector, a warrior. I had no qualms with fighting for what I valued, I saw a noble profession to pursue. My family, my small, broken family, was all I had. I wanted nothing more than to protect the little pieces of my shattered family, then one day, put us back together completely.

Unfortunately, my experience on the battlefield was lacking, though I knew both of my parents were skilled in combat. Considering my lineage, I figured I couldn't be too inherently bad at it. I planned for my mother to teach me eventually, but I didn't want to show up to a spar with her completely void of any combat experience.

For this reason, I was there, in the thistle meadow, standing solemnly amongst the verdant. My wings were pressed against my sides, a possible sign of my nervousness. My body was rigid, ears flicked back hesitantly. Anxiety coursed through my nerves, my desire to make my mother and sister proud being the only reason I didn't turn around already.

"Are there any here looking for a friendly spar?" I called reluctantly, my hazy breath billowing around my face, it's tendrils reaching into the air longingly (though the smoke was short lived, it always is). I shifted my weight from hoof to hoof, the ground firm enough for me to do this easily. Doubt and apprehension flooded my senses, making me wonder if I had just made a grave mistake by coming here.



WC: 319
Attack: 0/3
Setting: Thistle Meadow, cool and clear orangemoon morning (around 9 a.m.)
@Volterra
she belongs to the fire
Image Credit
She walks in starlight in another world.
She is far away. She...she is far, far away from me.

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#2


YOU CAN'T STRAY FROM WHAT YOU ARE
YOU'RE THE CLOSEST THING TO HELL I'VE SEEN SO FAR

The wolf recognises this one.

His massive head turns, nostrils flaring to inhale the crisp morning air and the scent of mare. When he first met her, she was a filly, and he a newborn boy. It was his first foray away from his mother and sister, and he'd found himself up in the cold north with a mouthful of snow. She had come, displaying her magic, her wings and her horn, whilst he stood alone. Dragonless, magicless, dull. How times have changed. He has his dragon, and another one still entombed within her egg, which he has stashed securely away in some shrubbery. He has magic, to command and dominate the earth, and he is a boy no longer.

Nor is she a girl.

As the black colossus moves closer, he sees that she is now sporting all the brazen curves of a woman. Shit, she is beautiful, and heat spreads to his groin with all the intent of a stream of lava. And she's asking for an opponent. His thick neck arches, flicking his mane to one side as he takes a small step forwards, debating, deciding. Should he? To clash with his old friend, to exchange sweat and blood, would be delightful. What better way to catch up? Yet, so far, the titan has only fought men, with whom his stallion's instincts do not erupt. Fighting a woman, with his lusts and hunger, will be dangerous. How will he seperate his desire to inflict pain from his desire to rut with the darling lady? If he gets distracted, he could suffer a humiliating loss.

But he simply cannot resist, and, he reasons, he needs practice of fighting against women one day. It will be a stern test, that's for sure, in a different way to his fights with males. Men are all brute force and easy strength, whereas women...they have the power to ensnare the mind and distract the body. The ground quivers beneath his weight as he marches towards her, a hint of a feral smile tickling the corner of his jowls, a wolfish glint in his eye. "Auriel," he rumbles, swinging his tail lazily against his flanks as he scrutinises her. "Goodness, how you've grown." Will she remember him? Surely she will. His gaze roves freely and shamelessly across the hybrid, both out of sheer masculine want and also so he can file away every inch of her for the battle ahead. She is a hand or so smaller than him, although her warrior's build could certainly pack a punch if it wanted to. She is not to be taken lightly.

"I'll be your opponent. Prepare yourself." His crimson dragon screams overhead and the beast feels a spasm of bloodlust from the red, but unfortunately for Vérzés he will not be participating in this particular brawl. No. I want to defeat her, but not decimate her. Stand down - you will have no part in this. The red roars his disgust, swooping low over his bonded with a savage hiss before sailing away into a nearby tree, flicking his tail petulantly behind him.

That leaves just the stallion and the mare to exchange blows, and the behemoth drinks in one swift gulp of morning air before he charges forwards into a ground-quaking canter. He aims to approach head-on, face to face, warrior to warrior. The ground is hard and firm beneath his hooves, easy to grip and boost from - perfect fighting conditions. The black leviathan attempts to slam his thick chest hard into the centre of her own chest, more towards the top of it given his superior height. He aims to use his colossal size to bulldoze her backwards, assert his dominance over her sooner rather than later, and hopefully cause her to stumble in the wake of his power.

She may be his friend, but until this fight is over, she is his foe. A wall of meat, to be defeated. Not maimed or destroyed - hence why Vérzés is sitting this one out - but owned. Conquered.

Simultaneously, his jaws aim a sharp nip for the right side of her neck about halfway up, to try and harshly pinch her skin and cause bruising and pain. He wants to taste that flesh, to see if he can detect the first hint of sweat on it.

If she isn't sweating now, she will be by the time he's done with her - and that thought only aids the electric shock that jars towards his loins. Shit, he will have to control that. He cannot allow himself to get...carried away, not when he has an opponent to defeat. This is business, not pleasure. Not yet, anyway.

________
@Auriel !
I'll start my teaching notes after your next post <33 Good luck! It's up to you if you want magic to be used.

1/3 - 780 words


[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Auriel Posts: 122
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.2 Hands :: 3 (Ages Birdsong) HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
prissy
#3
Auriel
A single pale ear curved away from its companion, my eyes trailed its lead. A small smile crept onto my features, and my anxiety settled somewhat. The stallion that approached was one I knew. It's a faded memory, a wisp of my childhood where he was present amongst snow and smoke. He was a dainty, gangly creature that I had used as a lab rat. But he is dainty and gangly no longer.

As he neared me, his crimson colored eyes swept my flank, a twinge of anxiety poured back into my senses. He looked at me differently than he did in our youth, his gaze was hungry, one of a predators. I took a tentative step back to study his own frame, though in that set of circumstances, I was not pleased with what I saw. He was tall, taller than myself by more than what I was comfortable with. His body was scarred, whilst my own pelt was still free of those imperfections. If he were to be my opponent, then I would be fighting one who claims more experience than I could ever dream of having.

I didn't let the intimidation I felt leak onto my features, though. My pale gaze met his with a sharp provocative gleam to it. "Volterra,"  I purred alluringly as a seductive haze of smoke billowed from my lips. I aimed to use my femininity to its fullest extent. After all, who would dare to hurt a lady? "It's been too long since we've seen each other last,"  I whispered, eyeing the blood colored dragon above our heads. The creature seemed ravenous, but it left as soon as Volterra declared himself my opponent. My brow raised, gaze flicked back to his, intrigued by the notion that he would pick me as a sparring partner.

I rolled my shoulders back, tucked my head and braced for the attack he had in mind. I was beginning to feel anxious again, fear coursed through my body when I saw him come closer. He attacked in a flurry of black and sweat; for in that moment, his daunting form paralyzed me. Before I knew it his chest was against mine, knocking the air from my lungs in a thick haze of smoke. I gasped for air, simultaneously sliding back as he plowed into me. I understood that he would be a capable opponent, but I was not prepared for him to be so directly forceful. My 'act like a lady,' technique did not work as well as I had hoped.

As my chest ached and I struggled to regain my breath, I felt his teeth sink into the right side of my neck. This pain was different from the blunt force that spread through my chest, this pain stung. I gasped sharply, holding back tears as I was sure his bite was drawing blood. My wound couldn't burn that badly and not bleed. But the pain he inflicted upon me was what I had asked for. This would be the price I pay to ensure the safety of my family.  

I can't let anything happen to them.

I clenched my teeth, and attempted to firmly root myself back to the ground. My gaze is no longer entranced by the crimson that colors his eyes or what he looked like two years ago, oh no, I was focused on what was ahead. My tactful mind raced with ideas of how I could switch our situation, though I came up with few ideas. The feeling of his sleek, sweat coated pelt against my own did not help me stay focused at all. He was so close, so alive, so large and so clearly dominating me with his size. His eagerness to control me in a flashy display of testosterone and height was just going to be a factor I had to accept. If he was to use his height against me, then so be it, I would do the same. I attempted to rear abruptly, aiming my right knee for his chest in a way that would push him up and back, away from my side. Concurrently, I tucked my head further and jabbed my split horn at the base of the left side of his neck, though not hard enough for the tips to go deep enough to do any life-threatening damage.

My actions aimed to send a firm message: 'Get. The. Fuck. Off.'



@Volterra
WC: 737
Attack: 1/3

thank you!! best of luck (even though you don't need it lol)!! magic is fine with me :3
she belongs to the fire
Image Credit
She walks in starlight in another world.
She is far away. She...she is far, far away from me.

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#4


YOU CAN'T STRAY FROM WHAT YOU ARE
YOU'RE THE CLOSEST THING TO HELL I'VE SEEN SO FAR

Her voice is sultry, and the coquettish tangle of smoke that flows from her lips succeeds in ensnaring the brute's senses. His eyes darken, hunger flowing like wildfire through him, until he reminds himself where he is - on a battlefield, not in a whorehouse. Now is not the time for such lecherous thoughts, although it doesn't stop the thrilling tingle in the back of his mind at the notion of this with her. Exchanging sweat, trading blood...it is the most intimate activity that two creatures can partake in, save for sex.

They collide, and despite Auriel's smaller size the collision knocks the wind from Volterra's lungs as well. He coughs, but the damage is minimal compared to what she suffers. She slides backwards a few steps, and the sheer dominance of this act drags a wolf's growl from his lips. Him, mastering her, forcing her to submit to his bulk by backing away from him, unbidden. His teeth, too, find their mark, and when he snatches his skull back he can taste the iron tang of blood on his tongue.

She's delicious, just as he knew she would be.

Hunger taints the hellion's features, a masculine grunt ripping free from his red-tinted jaws. The contact, the slap of flesh on flesh, has tempted the beast inside, stoking the fire that blazes inside him. She is woman, and she is close. He wants, he needs...but this is supposed to be a spar, not his chance to get his jollies through close contact with her. Business, not pleasure, he keeps telling himself. But that's hard to focus on when she's so close he can smell her. He steels himself, remembering that this is precisely why he's doing this - so he can learn how to control himself around female opponents. After all, when he is a king, a warlord, he will not be able to demand to fight only men. Sooner or later he will cross swords with a mare in a true, bloody battle with something more than pride on the line, and he needs to have a tighter hold on his cravings by then.

Else his epitaph will read Here Lies Volterra: Slaughtered Because He Tripped Over His Own Dick In Battle.

Alas, her womanly wiles are working, despite his best attempts to resist them - he's so distracted by her mere proximity that when her knee comes for his chest, it's sheer coincidence that saves him from damage rather than any great thinking on his part. He shifts his colossal weight backwards a fraction, aided by the hard ground beneath his hooves. Her knee whistles past his chest and her horn just misses his neck, to his own surprise as much as anybody else's. A sardonic smile flashes momentarily across his mouth as he remembers silently fuming about Ciceron dodging almost every attack he threw at him, how hypocritical that makes him. But, he reasons, taking a brutal hit so early on would affect his chances of winning, and that's all he cares about.

Because who knows what his prize may be if he rises victorious? On the sidelines, his dragon growls, feeling the familiar and dangerous thrums of lust flowing from his bonded.

The giant sidesteps to his right, aiming to face the mare's left shoulder, then launches himself forwards again with a feral bellow. Once again, he tries to slam his massive chest into her, in an attempt to bowl her over and own her with his weight - this time, he aims for her left shoulder, to try and send her sprawling to her right. His teeth, still tingling pleasantly from their previous impact with her flesh, aim to rain down a volley of bites upon her withers and spine, hoping to bruise and brand her with his mark.

He is, after all, not the most experienced fighter, despite what his fearsome appearance might suggest. He has not yet developed a distinct style or decided which attacks work best - he knows only what his instinct tells him, that his sheer size and brute strength won't let him down. What he lacks in battle nous, he aims to make up for with his fierce slamming attacks and his blatant disregard for his own safety. That, he hopes, will be enough to get him through these early days of fighting, until experience replaces testosterone and lends him a more varied array of attacks.

At the same time, he summons his magic and aims to lift the ground into a small plateau beneath Auriel's left hindhoof. He hopes that this, combined with his attempted chest slam, will unbalance her and cause her to topple over to her right.

________
@Auriel !
Teaching notes are below the table :D

2/3 - 778 words




THINGS I LIKED:

- I loved reading Auriel in this post, especially the way she's thinking of how to use her 'womanly wiles' to beat Vol! Her emotion was well-written, especially her determination to fight so she can protect her family, and her being distracted by his closeness (he's in my head like ;D)

- Your writing is really clear and concise, which is a godsend for your opponent in fights! I didn't notice any glaring grammatical or spelling errors, which is a sign of good proof-reading.

- You didn't attack too much - two is a nice number of attacks to do. A bombardment of four or more attacks can really get confusing and mess up the timeline of a fight, and it's a trap that a lot of people fall into as they want to cause as much damage as possible. However, I always find that 1-3 attacks are better than 4+, not least because 800 words isn't enough to adequately describe that many attacks. So you're definitely on the right track by doing two well-described attacks rather than more poorly-described ones.

THINGS TO IMPROVE:

- Noting the size difference between them was good, however it's also useful if you can implement how that will affect the fight. Like, will she re-think some potential attacks because he's bigger than her? Will she try to use that against him, or use her superior speed stat to her advantage?

- Having Auriel slide back, be winded, and also have a quite nasty bite wound is a lot of damage considering I only rolled a 1 in the damage section. If you look and see 8 points of damage dealt, it can make you go 'ohcrap' however that's only because of Vol's high damage stat. A 1 roll for damage is the lowest roll you can get (except a miss of course xD). I'd say a 1-worthy wound is slight bruise from either the slam or the bite - the damage you took is probably closer to a 2 or 3.

- It's very rare that blunt horse teeth would be able to draw blood, especially on the thick skin of another horse and especially on a place like the neck, where the skin is tight over the muscle. Chances are, Auriel would have suffered a bruise rather than a badly bleeding cut.

- 'Aiming my right knee for his chest in a way that would push him up and back, away from my side'. Given Vol's superior size (and the weight of a horse), it would be very unlikely that Auriel's knee would be able to push him up and back, and could do a lot more damage to her knee joint than it could do to Vol. Also, the wording of the end of this sentence, about her 'side', is a bit misleading/confusing as they're currently face to face, so he's nowhere near her side. Finally, be careful with the wording - 'in a way that would push him up and back' could be deemed to be PP-ing, as you should probably have said something like 'that would hopefully push him up and back', just so it doesn't seem like it definitely WILL do that if it hits. It's up to the person who takes the damage to decide what it does or doesn't do. Similarly, here: 'Concurrently, I tucked my head further and jabbed my split horn at the base of the left side of his neck, though not hard enough for the tips to go deep enough to do any life-threatening damage'. Words like 'attempt/aimed/hoped/tried' etc can be unsightly and disrupt the flow of a post, but they're a necessary evil in order to keep you from being docked points for PPing c:

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Auriel Posts: 122
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.2 Hands :: 3 (Ages Birdsong) HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
prissy
#5
Auriel
It didn't work.

Nothing I did worked. His skin, so close, so warm against my own, did it distract me? Was that it? I had done my best to free myself from the darkness he had encompassed around me, but my efforts did next to nothing in getting him away. He evaded it all. I was floundering amidst my own failure, but he was still there, still overshadowing me.

There was no end to the force he exerted onto me. It was overwhelming, it was pure turmoil for me. I was weak. The invasion was two years ago, but this proved I was still no stronger. I was still small, still weak, still less than my attacker. A part of me simply wanted to flee, like that day. I glanced backward, looking for an escape from him, hoping that I had a chance to run, just in case.

I could just run away, far away...

And then what? Would Shida care enough to try and help me? What would my mother think of me? I would be a puddle compared to the icebound.

These thoughts rushed through my mind quickly, but he was quicker. Before I knew it, his chest was against my left shoulder. This time hurt more than the last. It stung, it burned, it made my chest ache and ache, but it was not nearly as painful as the ache I felt knowing I was a puddle. My breath was knocked from my lungs in a haze of onyx, swirling smoke, engulfing my vision before dissipating and leaving me to deal with the aftermath of his attack. I was forced backwards again (again, again, time after time, my life was running in circles, I was a broken, repeating record, again, again, AGAIN). I felt his teeth on my neck again, multiple bites, some stinging and some bruising. But after having felt his teeth before, they did not hurt as much as the second time. I figured this attack would be a rehash of the one that preceded it, but Volterra did not let me have that assumption. The earth beneath my left hind hoof moved up and sent the rest of my body falling to the right, the force of his chest aiding my descent.

The moment was dizzying, tempting to pass me by and leave me to fall. Alone, the resignation I felt was enough to make me feel as if I could let it happen after all. But I harbored more emotions. In that instance, my anger surged over my hopelessness. The time I spent alone, growing up without my sister, losing my mother, being stepped on by my father - I couldn't let it happen it again. I had to be stronger, I had to prove myself as better, at least better than I was that day. I couldn't let him take that from me.

I picked my left hoof up and used my right to launch myself to the left of my opponent. If he wanted me to go right, then so be it, I would go right. I thrashed away from him, bringing my wing up and aiming it at his jaw. I didn't want his teeth on my neck anymore, either. But the motions pained me, the ache he had left in my chest was still present and my breathing wasn't quite normal. Stepping away from him was painful, too. He was still hurting me, still a phantom gripping my nerves despite not being there anymore.

I let him get too close. I let him do this. But there would be no more of that. I would pick up the pieces of the battle the same way I picked up the pieces of my family. I didn't want him to be close to me anymore, I didn't want his body overpowering my own. He had no right to hold his height over me, to throw himself around so carelessly. He had knocked me over one time too many and I had no problem letting him know.

I screamed.

I poured my anger, my frustration, my helplessness into it, and invoked a magic I didn't remember having. But, oh, it felt good to dangle that over him. I turned my scream directly at his left ear, hoping that this would edge him a bit farther away this time. After all, I didn't know what this magic would do to him. I supposed it was possible I could make him deaf, and being deaf did not sound pleasurable to me.



@Volterra
WC: 756
Attack: 2/3

she belongs to the fire
Image Credit
She walks in starlight in another world.
She is far away. She...she is far, far away from me.

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#6


YOU CAN'T STRAY FROM WHAT YOU ARE
YOU'RE THE CLOSEST THING TO HELL I'VE SEEN SO FAR

Flesh meets flesh with a glorious slap, and she reels to her right. His heart pounds at the impact and his loins twitch, the sweet success almost overpowering his senses. His jaws slip into a wolf's smirk, his tail held high and proud as he ploughs into her, peppering her neck with bites. Each time his teeth find her skin, it sends another wave of ecstasy through him, like a great tide of beautiful, scorching lava.

This feeling is the polar opposite to what he's used to in battle. In all of his previous fights, he's been fuelled by rage, powered by the primal fury of war. Each time, bloodlust has devoured him, forced adrenaline to rage through his system and lend greater strength to his limbs. This time, however...he has no reason to be angry. Auriel isn't ninja-bitch-dodging each attack he throws at her, nor is she hellbent on trying to kill him. He doesn't hate her, he doesn't feel the bestial need to annihilate her; he only wants to win, to assert his dominance over her and reap whatever rewards that brings. Without the fuel of hatred to drive him, it's surprisingly easy for his mind to wander - to notice each sumptuous curve of her body, to contemplate how that would feel beneath him as he lavished it with pleasure rather than pain...

No. This is why he needs to practice fighting such attractive opponents, to train his mind to focus, to learn how to win even without his temper fuelling him.

She swings, agile, a swan across the ground, and suddenly he's seeing stars as her wing clatters him squarely on the chin to leave a small, light bruise in its wake. It smacks his teeth together, jarring his face and causing a headache to form in the back of his skull, much to his irritation. A gargling laugh escapes him as he shakes his lower jaw, testing that nothing's broken, ensuring that he hasn't shattered any teeth. "Not bad, for a little thing," he coos, flashing her a flutter of his crimson eyes.

He begins to step backwards, trying to create space between their bodies - space allows him to charge, to throw his weight around, to crush like a fucking freight train. Fighting in close proximity is not advantageous to the monstrous young stallion, who has the turning speed of a beached whale and who relies on momentum to lend his attacks their full force.

It's probably this backwards step that saves him from having his eardrums destroyed by her banshee's scream as it rips through the air like a thousand fingernails on a chalkboard.

His ears slam backwards, slicking flat to his skull as broken glass pierces them. Pain erupts through his head, adding to the gentle throb from her wing attack, multiplying it, exploding it. He bellows, a great roar of dismay bursting free from his jaws like the primal howl of a dying wolf. What is this sorcery?! Magic, of course. What else could it be? What else should he expect from the girl who poured smoke from her nostrils? He would be a fool to think that he could use his own magic and have it go unpunished...

Confused, half-blinded with pain and badly disorientated, the hellhound lunges forwards again, aiming to cover the small patch of ground that he'd just vacated with his backwards step. His ears ring, his head screams. He can't see, can't think, and he relies soley on his memory of where she is - he aims for her left side again, for the shoulder he'd just crashed into with his chest. When he's close, or when he thinks he's close, he throws his weight to his hindquarters and leans back on his haunches as he lifts into a rear, hauling his already massive body upwards with a considerable huff of effort. He flails his forelegs forwards and down, aiming to crunch them down onto her withers, to try and make her entire front end bow beneath his weight and bring her to her knees. He wants her to be forced into submission beneath his weight, hoping his hooves will smack into already bruised flesh and cause the evil, ear-shattering scream to change into a gargle of pain.

But, despite the way his heart thunders and his ears scream like burning witches, another laugh escapes him. Shit, this is what a battle's all about. Unexpected attacks, being tested, being met blow for blow. For a girl, she fights like a fucking tank, and he loves it. The pain distracts him from his lust for her, but there's still a distinct throb between his heaving thighs, a dryness in his mouth and a thirst in his heart.

________
@Auriel !

3/3 - 788 words




THINGS I LIKED:

- Again, I loved Auriel in this post. You've already got a great grasp of her character and she's a joy to read! Considering you haven't played her very long, it's really exciting that you already play her so well :)

- And again, your grammar and spelling was excellent. There were a couple of sentences that seemed to jar ('The moment was dizzying, tempting to pass me by and leave me to fall' was one of them that just didn't read quite right to me) but overall you do a really good job of proofreading and removing any little niggling errors! 'Readability' is one part of the judging rubric and as long as you proofread your posts and make sure there's no tense changes, typos etc, it's really easy to rack up the points. So it's good to see you're already along the right lines!

As a side note, you've had some pretty shit dice rolls in this fight. Believe me, I know those feels xD To roll a miss and have your opponent roll a really heavy hit can be so, so disheartening and make you want to go 'screw it' and just cobble together the bare minimum of a fight post. BUT always bear in mind that the writing part of the fight gets doubled, meaning it is actually fairly easy to overturn a dice roll HP deficit as long as you're good at the writing part. Like, say you have 10 less HP than your opponent after the dice rolls. It seems like a lot and can be intimidating. BUT if your opponent scores 2 in the writing part, this is then doubled to become 4, and added to the total HP. In this case, they'd now have a HP advantage of 14 over you. HOWEVER, you only need to score 7.5 in the writing part in order to win - that would get doubled to 15, and victory is yours :D 7.5 is easily achievable by the vast majority of fighters, so always stay confident and fight until the end even if the dice screw you over, because you just never know! I try and go into every fight thinking 'right, so long as I write to my highest capability, I can basically overturn anything up to a 10-point dice roll deficit'. Once you've got that positive state of mind down, it makes you not want to dropkick your computer quite as much when the dice are feeling mean xD

THINGS TO IMPROVE:

- This time, compared to last time, I don't think you took enough damage for the dice roll. A 6 is the highest you can roll save for a critical hit, so a 6-worthy wound is basically the ouchiest of the ouch. You're taking broken bones, ripped skin, massive bruises etc. It isn't mentioned what damage she takes from the chest slam (it mentions that it hurts more than the last, but try to describe wounds in more detail - light bruise, small bruise, heavy bruise, bruising over a large area?). His teeth hit, but less so than the previous time, and even though it's mentioned that the earth plateau hits, it isn't clear if she falls from this or if it even hurts that much. Overall, that's probably about a 4-level of damage.

If it was me in your shoes reacting to Vol's set of attacks and a 6 dice roll, I'd probably have done something like: Had the chest slam hit, creating a deep, widespread bruise that caused my character to stumble badly to the right and pull a muscle in their right foreleg as they desperately flail it to stop themselves falling over, aided by the earth attack under their back foot. Had a couple of the bites hit, but only a couple due to the stumble taking the character away from the bombardment. Remember, if your opponent's attacks don't seem to warrant such high damage, you can take it from literally any environmental source you want - tripping, walking into a rock, pulling a muscle, poking yourself in the eye, anything! You also don't have to take damage from every attack, as long as you take heavier damage from the attacks that do hit.

- On the topic of describing wounds, it was really unclear whether or not Auriel actually fell over as a result of Vol's attacks. 'The earth beneath my left hind hoof moved up and sent the rest of my body falling to the right, the force of his chest aiding my descent' isn't clear whether or not she actually falls over, or just stumbles badly. If it's the latter, then you could have put in some more description of exactly WHY she didn't fall over - did she rebalance her legs, spread her weight? Try to be clearer when describing the results of attacks, otherwise the judge will have a field day taking points off you for lack of realism/adequate description. You were 44 words shy of the maximum word count, so definitely try to milk as much of that word count as you can in order to fit in more detailed descriptions!

- I was really confused with some of the action-y parts of this post. 'I was forced backwards again' - this is misleading as he's attacking her left shoulder, so she'd be pushed to the right rather than backwards. 'I picked my left hoof up and used my right to launch myself to the left of my opponent' - which left hoof, front or back? Which right hoof? How would lifting the left hoof help with her movement? When she launches herself towards Vol's left, is she trying to face him in a T-shape, or run parallel to him? Also, there should be a mention of 'attempt' in this sentence! Even though it's not an attack, it's PPing to say she definitely ended up on his left. 'I thrashed away from him, bringing my wing up and aiming it at his jaw' which wing? Which one of his jaws, upper or lower, or both? Remember, try to describe your rights and lefts as much as possible and be as specific as you can!

Sorry for the huge notes but at least you're getting your money's worth! ;D

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Auriel Posts: 122
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.2 Hands :: 3 (Ages Birdsong) HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
prissy
#7
Auriel
For a handful of moments, I felt satisfied, a flicker of twisted pride. My wing hit his jaw with a force that jarred even myself, making the skin beneath tingle and bruise. I had to hold back a cry, not just for the bruises on my wing, but for the ones on my chest and blood on my neck. Everything throbbed and stung, I wasn't used to be hurt, to seeing crimson mixed with the pale saffron of my coat.

But hearing his praise, seeing that flash of crimson pools aimed at me made the pain worth it. It made me believe that however many wrongs would be thrown at me, I could take it. I smirked to myself, the simple expression strained by the ache in my chest. I suppressed a flicker of panic that shot through my mind, sparked by the possibility of my chest hurting forever.

Would training with my mother first prevented this? I found myself distrusting her still, even after her apologies, her promises. Apologies could be faked and promises empty, broken. But could she make it all stop? Could she still kiss my bruises and make it all better? Could she wipe my tears and blood off, and hold me till I don't have to scream anymore?

Hold me till it's over?

My scream ceased to be in a final haze of smoke, billowing around my features before dissipating into nothingness. When he charged towards me, I tried to flee out of the most basic instincts. He was a streak of black against the verdant of the meadow, his face etched with what I could only assume was something like pain. His movements were reckless, impulsive, and chilled me to my core. We were, in that moment, primal creatures, driven forward by nothing more than compulsion, our actions (our wounds) caused equally by each other and ourselves.

And so when his hooves struck my withers, I did not feel sorry for myself. My knees buckled under his weight, the sheer force of his strength too much for me. It stung, it burned, it sizzled up and down my spine; I didn't know whether it was more comparable to lightning or fire trapped beneath my skin. That time I didn't hold back my cry - I yelped as soon as his hooves made contact with my body. My breath was forced from my lungs once again in a short huff of smoke as I fell further, my hind legs falling to meet the ground with the rest of me.

I felt practically immobilized, every part of my body hurting like it never had before. To move was to hurt more, to send more flame through my withers, but there was nothing I could do. I wasn't ready to admit defeat yet, but lying there, I was about out of ideas on what to do. No matter what I did it would only cause me more pain.  

I decided on what would require me to move the least. I threw my head back, a (mostly likely in vain) attempt and thrusting my split horns into the flesh of his left leg. I immediately regretted this, as moving my head at all caused more pain to sear through my withers and up my spine. I stifled a cry, flapping my right wing lightly, pulling it up to wave around near his face. It wasn't a menacing gesture, just one to hopefully confuse him, and persuade him to get off. That hurt just as much as moving my neck and head. The motions were slow and sloppy, all of it put forth with weak effort.

I only wanted it all to stop.



@Volterra
WC: 613
Attack: 3/3
so so so sorry for the wait ;-;
she belongs to the fire
Image Credit
She walks in starlight in another world.
She is far away. She...she is far, far away from me.

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#8


YOU CAN'T STRAY FROM WHAT YOU ARE
YOU'RE THE CLOSEST THING TO HELL I'VE SEEN SO FAR

He doesn't know his own strength.

In his flailing, frantic state, his hooves hit their intended target - her withers. She crumples like a sack of shit, prone at his feet, and his eyes widen. "Shit, Auriel!" He'd wanted to bring her to her knees, to own her, but he's unprepared for quite how fragile her body feels beneath his colossal hooves, how easily she tumbles to the ground under his brutal ministrations. Her yelp, her admission of pain, doesn't arouse him as the rest of the fight has, due to the sudden searing guilt that stabs through him. He hadn't meant to hit her quite so hard, hadn't meant to decimate her - he wanted to exert dominance, yes, but not to this extent.

At least it makes the screaming stop, but his ears still ring in the aftermath of her banshee's cry. He shakes his massive head, stumbling backwards and away from her so as not to injure her further, because there is no pride or glory to be found in crushing a woman already on her knees. As a result, her horn misses his leg quite by chance, and her wing flaps just in front of his face with a tickle of wind. He hardly notices - his concern is too great. Even his dragon appears perturbed by the beast's sheer brute force, and Volterra feels his bonded's rapt, intrigued attention.

With aching ears, the giant moves towards her again, but makes no move to attack. The fight is over; he is remarkably unharmed save for his ears, and the thought makes him feel dirty. A battle is only proper when both warriors end up bruised and bleeding, and he is neither. His old friend, on the other hand....He stands sentinel beside her, a sweating, heaving wall of power, and offers a shoulder for her to lean against when she rises so he can help her walk away from the battlefield if she so chooses.

________

Closing defense - 324 words




THINGS I LIKED:

- Emotion again! You've done really well with her throughout the fight, she's a really interesting read and I'm definitely excited to see more of her. I ended up feeling really sorry for her, whilst also getting a sense of her strength and determination.

- Once more (you'll be sick of me saying this haha) your spelling and grammar was fine, only the one glaring error (see below) that I could see. As I say, proof reading is your best friend in these fights, so keep up the good work ^^

- The distracting wing attack was interesting to read and a good idea. It's always good to see 'different' attacks like this - feints, distractions etc, and as long as it's not too outlandish, it'll usually earn you decent points!

THINGS TO IMPROVE

- The major thing is make sure you don't end the fight lying down! This immediately results in a 10 HP penalty, as it's a gesture of submission and admission of defeat. You got really unlucky with me rolling a critical hit, especially when Vol was attempting such a devastating attack. What I personally would have done is, rather than having Auriel take the damage to her withers where he aimed for, I'd have perhaps had her scoot forwards so his hooves smashed onto her rump instead, where it's fatter and more padded. This could have caused her hindlegs to crumple and scrape on the ground, but without her falling down completely. You could have had severe muscle bruising and scratches, without having to end up lying down.

- 'I threw my head back, a (mostly likely in vain) attempt and thrusting my split horns into the flesh of his left leg'. As good as your grammar and spelling was overall, I'm guessing the underlined 'and' should have been 'at'. That one typo changes the whole context of the sentence, as it could be interpreted as GMing by saying she's thrusting her horn into his leg due to the 'and' coming after the 'attempt'. Try to be careful as little errors like this can really cause the points to tumble away.

- Although you were much better at being specific with attacks in this post, you could also have added in where exactly on his leg she's aiming for - the bottom, the top, the side? You had lots of words left that can be used to describe the attacks even further, so the judge can get a real picture of what she's trying to do. This post was much better for that, though!

Overall, you did really well in this fight. You've suffered some awful dice rolls, but as I said in my last set of notes, try not to get too disheartened and never give up because you just never know! :D You've got the makings of a good fighter and the basics are all there - spelling, grammar, and the 'feel' of your character. If you can get down the technical parts, the nitty gritty bits, you'll do fine! Well done!

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Time the Dice Queen Posts: 144
OOC Account atk: 50 | def: 50 | dam: 50
Mare :: Other :: 5'7 :: 22 HP: 5050 | Buff: DROPKICK
Time
#9
HP gap greater than 20 :: Volterra earns 1 VP + 0.5 VP teaching bonus. Auriel earns 1 EXP.

Volterra HP: 60
Auriel HP: 30
30 HP difference


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