the Rift

Armed and Free [ASHAMIN v. THRANDUIL]

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

Watching the laurelin rise was like watching a sunset in reverse. Some cosmic force pulling gold back to its zenith, when by all means it should have sunk slowly into nothing. Thranduil would, by Ashamin's intentions, become a faded memory.

Let nothing else like Thranduil rise to take his place. Let the haruspex be quelled, let the black figurine do its work and settle his doubt and rage. Let the golden walk away and stay unharmed, let Ashamin give in and maybe forgive. These were the prayers that were held at a distance, in the mind of a cerndyr asleep in a soft bed of silk. But someday Lochan would wake and know the truth: none of his dreams had come true. He would wake and walk into a nightmare of abandonment.

No, nothing could calm the painted buck's rage, not now. He watched with ears tightly flattened to his skull as Thranduil, now covered in gold armor, spouted insolent words and walked past him--no, ran--out into the open clearing in the valley. The other armor, rejected but more beautiful than anything such a covetous liar could weigh himself down with, rested at Ashamin's hooves.

Through a process that was filled with labor but dripping with pride, Ashamin slowly lowered his body, pulled the armor across his back, stepped into the cannon guards, and prepared himself for war.

Perhaps if Ashamin had seen Haldir, he would have stopped. Perhaps if that companion's kind gesture had been noticed, Ashamin would have reconsidered. Ashamin, though, saw only rage. It burned in his eyes and filled him with untenable adrenaline. Thranduil ran, down into some hellish depths, and Ashamin watched with certainty. He was going to take on the Laurelin. He was going to prove himself once and for all, and the golden would choke on his hoard.

He rushed forward, the trinket offered to him by Haldir unconsciously kicked with his front hoof and knocked down the hill. There it tumbled, a black speck on the ice and snow. Later, such kindness would be found--later, such hatred regretted. But for now Ashamin only charged, (following Thranduil's path almost exactly, deviating just slightly to the left,) not giving Thranduil a chance to command him to attack, not hearing the liar's insistence that would follow.

The seer's tail flew at his back, his coil sparked, his mask's tooth and amulets clanged upon his breast with the beating of his heart, and the weight of an old, stolen armor bore down upon his back. This was the weight of his own emotion, felt, at last, for once. This was the weight of selfish decision, of locking onto the target and galloping towards it with fury.

The haruspex's magic lashed out once again, the clay of his enemy's heartbeat before him in the cold. So brittle Thranduil's heart was, so frozen was its beat as Ashamin tried to twist it into something too slow to maintain its body's systems. Perhaps such a cold thing would be easy to break.

Hoping that he would succeed in manipulating the other's heart, Ashamin then tried to pull himself forward. No burst of speed could come, not beneath a weight still so new, but he did his best. Besides, Ashamin's build and heritage lent him a speed and ability to endure that was perhaps greater than the Golden's; in the end, it was likely to even out somewhat. He continued on his left-ward angle, trying to catch Thranduil's eye. Was he feeling the pain of a heart slowing to stillness, yet? When would the body drop, when would the eyes roll? That was the submission Ashamin searched for, that was the revenge he desired. Too long had Thranduil been unkind, too long had he threatened the integrity of this herd.

With a monstrous cry, a neigh so sudden and loud that it drowned out Thranduil's command to begin, Ashamin the endurant, the armored, summoned his mask from its chain and threw himself to the right, hoping to bite the base of Thranduil's neck. Had they been almost parallel, as Ashamin had projected, it would be the most accessible, painful target without endangering himself and given their difference in height. The armor and the mask together hindered his vision for a moment, but he'd done his best to calculate before trying to strike. Should he succeed, the enchantment of his mask could do more damage than he ever would have wanted before that moment.

But that moment, when his black eyes burned with hate and the dark figurine sat neglected at the base of the hill, was a moment of forgetting. When the haruspex remembered, he'd never again be the stallion he'd once been. At the end of this all, Ashamin would still be lost.



WC: 794/800
PC: 1/3 A, 0/1 D
Note: This is an OOC teaching spar (I will be giving Hawk notes), and directly continued from this thread: Armed and Caged
Setting: Clearing in the Aurora Basin in Orangemoon. Gray and misty, daytime.

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

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk

A dark sinister laughter broke the silence as the Laurelin charged up the rise on one side of the clearing. Legs pound as they rise up the earth, emboldened by this long awaited call to act after wasting away in the fetters of the crown. Their strength had been grown under the heavy chains of the past meant not to guard or build a home, but to destroy it. Breaking the faithful Haruspex, being nothing more to him than a faithful dog, was the dark desire of Thranduil’s pride. It was a pathetic attempt made only so that he could say that the Laurelin was still strong enough to break from the Basin and to prove this collar about his neck would not be his own noose. It was the manifestation of a foolish pride, twisted into a growing madness, and voiced in that sick laugh. Haldir, angered by both Thranduil and Ashamin glares from within the cave, unmoved to act.

The gold slows, and turns round to face the Haruspex charging into sight. Eyes glint hard with a cold flame. On that rock floor of the cave Ashamin had stolen the hot flames of rage from him, but the freezing hatred and pain of chains remained. It was a deadly gift to give the gold, for now rage no longer clouded his mind. Of course it was not the only blow the priest had already given. Thranduil’s heart, heaving with the effort to charge up the hillside with his armor, was already half spent. The weight of the metal on his back he could not bear long through the strains of battle, even with his familiarity to it. And yet, for this short coming, and the faster pace of the painted one charging forward, Thranduil smirked, for his mind reminded him that Ashamin was still shorter. It was not a decider of the fight to any other judge but Thranduil’s pride.

Thranduil watches the other charge, deciding his own attack. Yet then the pounding of his heart hesitates. His muscles still, ready to tumble down into stupor. This feeling he recognizes with a flash of anger. He would not be made a fool twice. This lesson he would serve viciously to Ashamin. A purple stone on his collar awakens, swirling with a black force, then sealing, and the golden’s heartbeat gains independence again. The Laurelin does not reveal his hand though. Instead his eyes calm, and body stills. So the threads of the lie were woven, but under the cloth lay the thief and his dagger.

The unoriginality of the Ashamin’s course aided Thranduil, for the gold had made that move before to open a brawl. So he waited till the cretin’s flesh came close then he threw away the mask and sprung. His horns and collar (and the spikes within ready to sing out on contact) were shoved right, where Ashamin should be, if the timing was correct. Yet the golden’s blood drawn first.

The mask of the bear, unseen, nearly hit full its mark. The upper incisors ranks against the metal armor, but the lower teeth sink into flesh. So strong was the bite force that the metal bent under the pressure, and sinew split like butter. The golden sings out in pain yet his own attack does not relent for he would hear the Haruspex’s song of pain now harmonize with his own in revenge.

The spin of his attack, in unstoppable motion wrenches Thranduil from the jaws, worsening the pain and damage. For a moment he does not follow through, the spin becoming mindless as it brings him parallel with the Haurspex again so they faced the same direction, gasping in the pain. It was only the drip of hot blood on his skin that wakens him. Damn that runt! How Ashamin managed to grab so tight a bite the gold could not grasp, but through persistence in pain the gold would prove his greater strength.

Now for the second half of Ashamin’s lesson. The black stone awakens again and releases its captor, shattering. The foolish heart of the priest would now hopefully know the feeling of its own manipulation and be dragged down from the heights. Yet so dark and burning was the golden’s will it awoke and brought forth an unknown gift: new magic. He could feel it stir awaken within him. It was a shock, but Thranduil did not hesitate to put his force behind this new found blade. Now the smoke from the golden’s cold burning flames should blind the Haruspex fully, though his concentration began to slip in the rising pain from his neck. Let the insults of the golden’s ring in that doomed soul’s ears again, for this dog should now be blind and weak.

WORD:: 796/800
ATK:: 1/3
Injuries:: (( prior to battle: a scrapped front knee//a aching chest)) A two inch gash, deep and wide just above his collar, that has curved up into his flesh, like a flap // Bent armor (from the top jaw) nearly cut, bruising the flesh underneath
Summary:: Thranduil uses a MOON AMULET to capture Ashamin's magic, but feigns it works, then leaps right, aiming his horns and collar to strike. Ashamin grabs him just above the collar, but he is already spinning out perpendicular then parallel again. He then releases the MOON AMULET just used, and finds and uses his new blinding magic.

Also note, this is a two week timeline.


[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.

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

Satisfaction rang through the haruspex like a bell. It should have been a warning sign, but the success of his attack was enough to knock out logic. Bite down, his body said, get closer. You can win this. You're a warrior at heart.

So he was distracted. The fact that the Laurelin didn't fall to the ground in a writhing mess should have tipped Ashamin off, but it didn't. Self-consciousness crept up on Ashamin; he second-guessed himself rather than Thranduil. Why consider that the lord was faking the injury when the possibility of his own failure, his own inability to control this new power, was an option? Maybe he wasn't a warrior, maybe he couldn't win this. It was true that Ashamin was more confident than usual--more confident especially with his teeth crunching metal like puddy--but old habits died hard.

Then again, so did new rage. Blood filled his mouth as the metal bent, and he couldn't tell if it was Thranduil's or his own. He felt a small scrape of the Laurelin's armor along his tongue, enough to cause him to pull back sharply at the twinge of pain.

After that, everything happened so quickly that Ashamin couldn't keep track of it. He slowed, ceasing his charge forth and bending his head down as he spat out blood. By chance (what the painted buck would later pass off as skill) the new stance put his already shorter form below the worst of Thranduil's attack. Ashamin felt the air sing above him and kept low; no need to lift himself up and put himself in harm's way. Slowly, no longer hastened by the momentum of his forward motion, the haruspex backed away from where the Laurelin's faint shadow was cast on the ground. The outline was fuzzy and obscured by mist, but clear enough for Ashamin to stay away from the deadly horns of the opponent.

The stag heard what came before he saw it, but he recognized it all; an amulet of the laurelin's had shattered, just like the one Ashamin had used against the mysterious earthen mare. So that was why the fallen lord hadn't hurt more from the magic. Ashamin hadn't missed, the power had simply been stolen out from under him. He let out a wild and furious neigh, dodging to his right like a bull shaking the matador from its horns. No, Ashamin thought with swift decision. This would not be how he would fall. His tail lashed behind him, his hooves stomped on the permafrost, and after aiming to pull himself right and away from the shards of amulet, he tried to draw backwards to increase the distance between himself and Thranduil. What a vile, cheat of a move. Had Thranduil really thought Ashamin would let himself be grounded by his own magic?

The only thing was, the focus it took to dodge the magic coming from the amulet left the haruspex vulnerable. As Ashamin backed away, a darker magic followed him. Smoke filled his eyes with a sudden sting. He could not shut his eyes fast enough, could not pull his face away in time. Suddenly the whole world around him went dark and his eyes burned.

Some part of the haruspex knew it wouldn't last, but every move the laurelin made him insane with anger. The smoke blinding him made him cough, as if it affected all his senses. Still, even blindly, Ashamin tried to back away. He continued on his planned path, seconds ticking away. Not even a minute had passed, perhaps half of one, and already the gold lord's magic was fading. Ashamin blinked to clear away the last of it, made some guttural noise like a snarl, and made a cold, calculated decision.

One of the two sun amulets swinging low beneath his breast spun and glowed, cracking as the magic of another burst from its seams. There, within its confines, was trapped Hotaru's power. It hummed with windsong just as Ashamin regained his sight. Ash fell from his eyelids and left gray trails in tears, but he would not be beaten down. Slowly he turned away from the Laurelin as the amulet tensed and threatened to break; carefully he positioned himself to get clear of the chaos. Ashamin had lived through the hurt of Hotaru's storm once before, he wouldn't let himself be put through it again. Thus, when the amulet shattered at last and hopefully unleashed the power of a fourth category hurricane filled with blades, Ashamin turned fully and ran for cover.

He would fight this: fire with fire, winner takes all. He would win.


WC: 769/800
PC: 2/3 A, 0/1 D
Note Ashamin has used a SUN AMULET containing Hotaru's storm magic:
:: [ Magic: DarkxWind | Can create storms up to the size of a Category 4 hurricane that hold invisible blades that create lattice cuts of varying depth on the victim's body ]
:: [ Restrictions | Storms limited to a radius of 10 meters ]

What worked:
  • Thranduil's personality came into this spar consistently--not just through your writing, but through the attacks and tactics. It makes sense that a character as sneaky as him would fake taking the attack (which by the way was super clever!)
  • You took/avoided Ashamin's attacks very well and realistically without confusing timeline or anything like that.
  • Use of items was great. It seemed to slow Thranduil down and when Ashamin bit down you not only took the enchantment on his item, but you had it affect your own in a very realistic manner. A lot of the time people play down the strength of Ashamin's mask's bite, so you did a great job with this in a way that also took the damage well. You maybe could have taken a little less of a hit from Ashamin since he has a low damage stat, but it worked pretty well for a 4. You'll want to keep in mind the armor's new shape for future posts too. :)
  • Good mention of size and stat (speed) difference. The variation in Ashamin and Thranduil's experience was also smart. Thranduil is older and wiser--I really liked that he saw what Ashamin was doing, and as a result wasn't surprised. Since Thranduil was able to anticipate Ashamin's movement, you were able to plan Thran's well around that. His personality really came in here as well, when Thranduil started calling Ashamin a fool. Harsh, but true! Ashamin's move was not the smartest, it was good of Thranduil (more experienced) to note that.

    To work on:
  • In general, some of your sentences sacrificed clarity for style. As a result you have beautifully written prose and some very clearly Thranduil moments, but there are some moments where I'm confused as to what's going on. For example, you mention Thranduil's mask at a time where I thought you were talking about Ashamin's. Keep the super stylistic stuff for the moments in between the actual fighting.
  • The spin attack. I'm not 100% sure what Thran is doing here, position wise. He started out parallel to Ashamin, but you say he spins and ends up parallel to him again. Is he making a tight circle and ending up on Ashamin's other side? Is he circling in place, or going around Ashamin? If I understand the motion correctly, it would take even a fast character some time to do it simply because of a horse's pattern of movement. Overall I was just pretty confused. I didn't end up taking this attack mostly because you rolled a low damage and I was taking enough damage from his blinding magic, but as a rule your attacks should be very clear. Sometimes the language will feel a bit technical and weird as you write that out, but believe me it doesn't sound as weird to another reader or judged as it will to you as a writer. Including things like direction and exact planned position in relation to your opponent will help. And these have to be in your actual prose, not just the summary. Judges won't use the summary, and as an opponent I try not to either (which is also why I don't write them myself.) It works fine for your own organizational, but no one else should need it. If your post doesn't say it clearly enough on its own, it can't be considered. I think of attacks like a good joke--it has to be funny without explanation, otherwise it falls flat.
  • The feigned heartbeat attack needed some more description/explanation for me. How exactly did he take it, did he just loosen up? Compared to how Thranduil took it in our thread, I was surprised by how little he seemed to respond. It wasn't the most convincing feign.

    Little things:
  • When sparring, pick the easiest to read table you have. It helps judges so they don't have to copypaste your text. Perhaps my vision just isn't great, but I found the contrast of text color and background sort of low.

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

    Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
    Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
    Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
    Thranduil defaults to Ashamin. Asamin earns 0.5 VP. +2 EXP for teaching.
     HP: 1100

    Helovia Hard Mode

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