the Rift


[JUDGED] I never call it even [Thranduil Challenge]
Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme
#1


"Where worlds collide, blood divides
When darkness falls, fate calls"
Ophelia had been enjoying her time away from the ebb of flow of civilization. She was wrapped in the affectionate glow of mutual love and whispered words more meaningful touched than spoken. Her heart had never known such depths of love like this, such adoration and hope for the future. Truly, she was no longer Forsaken. No longer forgotten. No longer abandoned. No, she was loved and loved in return. She was found, adored and cherished. The highest reaches of heaven could not compare to the peaks she reached tanged in Torleik’s braids, staring in disbelief that his icy blue eyes melted when he stared back.

But this world was not kind to lovers. The world moved, dragging them in tow, and she had to keep on her guard. She knew more than most the dangers that lay in the shadows as she had been one of the predatory wraiths, gnawing hungrily in wait. Her strange, two colored eyes had relied on the darkness to do her bidding, taking with out asking and laying waste to entire herds. Ophelia was not a good woman, not with the blood painting her hide.

And her past would come back to haunt her one day. Ghosts always returned, and she had put so many of them in early graves. Bridges were still burning behind her, and she had to watch her back.

Maybe this was why she caught him sneaking around her bubble of bliss, or maybe she was just lucky. Either way, she recognized the golden coat and two horns that snuck, wanting something off her person – or maybe even her. Ophelia wasn’t sure what good she was anymore to his herd (assuming he was still with the Basin). She was no merchant of knowledge anymore. What did she know that he would need?

Either way, she could not let this attempt at a theft go unnoticed. She couldn’t stand idly by and let this go; it wasn’t in her nature. No, slights had to be repaid in full and them some. Though tempered by her love, she was still the same on the inside. She had the same faults and the same habits that would never be broken. And no love could put out the red fires of her bloodline; it was her cross to bear and her violence to use.

Thus, she walked with the cleft hooves of hell to the center of their world: the Thistle Meadow. Winter’s breath kissed the thick fur of her white hide, and she narrowed her strange gaze at the horizon, wondering where he had snuck off. Such golden creatures could rarely hide well in the stark grit of snow, not like she could. Tinek spiraled overhead, crimson eyes search for their quarry as well.

“Thranduil,” she called, the feminine tones of her soft voice belying the demon beneath. “How long have we left each other alone? Why have you risen now to take from me?” she asked, a sinister glint flashing in her bizarre eyes.

Each muscle trembled beneath her body, aching for battle as her tongue craved the subtle burn of blood. Tinek fell to her shoulder then, opening his toothy maw menacingly as he guarded her back. The sun overhead cast a warm glow on the snowy fields, though there was not a cloud in the sky. Her god was in the sky and there was blood on her name. Fate.

--------------
CHALLENGE FOR THRANDUIL TO LEAVE HER ALONE (up to admin for timeline or enforcement?)
(0/4)  (570 words in word)
- Thistle Meadow in Frostfall
- Bright afternoon with no clouds but snow on the ground





Coding by Tamme with credits to Sevin | Art by Yewrezz


@Thranduil




Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.


Please tag me in every response!

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
#2




Good gods that felt good! His laughter still rolled deep and dark with his high from the sneak. It felt so good, he didn’t even care he got caught. In reality, actually getting the item he sought probably wasn’t even really his main desire. No, it was this feeling. The feeling of being a completely free Golden Thief. No orders. No limits.

For too long he had stood upon the frozen heights, looking down upon those whom he could not touch. Now that was ended. The dogs would be called, and watchmen take warning for the Laurelin had thrown aside his crown of chains, and none would hide from his grasp.

He would settle this day for a near catch, happy enough to be working at his trade once more. Haldir was glad for it as he trotted alongside. Having just reunited after the golden’s rescue of Hotaru, the deer was loathe for harm to come again so soon. So they moved to go, yet as usual, the woman wanted to talk. A smile presses the golden’s lips as he thought, perhaps they could even have a little more than just a cup of tea? Spanish neck curls, shaking his white mane, letting it toss about wild and unruly. In this mood, that was almost a guarantee. So his crowned head turns back and looks for his caller. The stag at his side can only groan, seeing no alternative in the Laurelin’s mind.

She steps up through the white wonderland, a ghost, visible only by the blood staining her. Ophelia. He moves to join her wondering what hole she now slunk into for a home, and if she bore some darker child yet. She was but another weakling blocked from their potential by love, pathetic honestly (his mood blinded him to his same weakness). Before she spoke again his mind rolled through the checks. She was shorter but younger. Stronger, but maybe not as quick. Oh but let’s be real here, this isn’t a test of strength, it’s a game of tricks. He had only glimpsed from afar hers, yet knew they were powers over the mind, and his guard there rose. His tricks luckily had gained new potency, and he would be lying to say he wasn’t eager to test them.

Cloven hooves walk him silently through the snow, stopping within ten lengths, eyeing the field. Besides a few shrubs and the snow it was mostly clear, lovely. His pact was left elsewhere, but his circlet gleamed threateningly. Haldir had come as well. Honestly the deer was shocked, for usually he was kept firmly away, yet the golden had forgotten him for the moment. With his youth begging him to test the strength of his tines he was careful not to remind the gold of his presence, but stayed at his side.

“Ophelia darling…” The sly voice rings. “It has been so long…and I thought you might need a wakeup call from your lover’s bed.” He laugher rolls, the rush of his venture hitting him in a new wave at the teasing. “Don’t you know you’d make a terrible house wife, sweetheart.” Horned head shakes back high, lifting with his hot blood. “And haven’t you heard? I’m a free agent now dearie.” He spat, then it laughs with the edge of madness. “Now none shall be safe, and all know my name. The Golden Thief.” And it began.

He exhales with purpose on his last line, letting gears click quickly and release. The golden coat then shimmers, and his form corrupts to darkness and grows giant. In the end, Archibald form stands tall. “Now don’t pretend you called just for a chat.” Instantly the golden reaches deep within, feeling the heavy orbs pulsating hotly. He grabs at two of them, his mood making him greedy. Teeth grind with the effort to keep it together, but his smile never falls.

Deep, he reaches within them, and powered by his own emotions rips them open. Through the snow rises shards of rock, hovering for a moment, as the gold within the beast struggles to weld all the forces at once. It may spend him, but he did not trust the security and strength of his mind later around her. The shards begin to hum, then shoot forward like bullets. The other force he could not name, only feel, letting the instincts of the magic guide him. Yet by now, if it was within his control, it should be crawling up her legs, turning bone to rock, just as the flying shards begin to ignite. Would they hit he could not say, the magic being so wild under his touch, yet perhaps, just like his stealth, her broken figure wasn’t his highest desire. Though, it would be such a lovely sight.

"lies damn lies statistics"

OOC::
WC:: 798
ATK:: 1/4
INJURIES:: None, though will be a little slow from struggles with Tingal.
Identities:: Archibald, Erebos, Tembovu
Items:: Circlet (polearm, Spark amulet, Moon amulet(containing Ashamin's heart magic))
SUMMARY:: Thranduil faces Opehlia, then shifts into Archibald, and uses his bullet magic and bone to rock magic.
:: [ Magic: Earth (U) | The ability to turn another's bones to stone, causing immobilization or slower movement ]
:: [ Restrictions | Bones are turned to actual stone; the effects will wear off gradually; in battle, attack lasts for 50 seconds. Can only be used once in a post ]
:: [ Magic: EarthxWind | Able to summon and project shards of flint and with such velocity they begin to ignite. ]
:: [ Restrictions | Projectiles fly 10m from body. ]



[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.
Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme
#3


"Where worlds collide, blood divides
When darkness falls, fate calls"

Haughty. She narrowed her gaze, wondering when he had gotten so stupid. Once upon a time, as most fairytales begin, she thought he was intelligent and an excellent opponent, but now? His ego was stifling, and she could feel it suffocating where she stood with its overly masculine drama. A sour expression curled her lips and her eyes swept over his form dismissively. She was not a creature to pay homage to self-proclaimed royalty, not when she was ascended.

Tinek snarled, predatory gaze fixing on the stag and locking, slitted eyes narrowing. The dragon balanced on her back, rocking his weight onto muscular, scaled haunches in preparation for flight, keen on keeping those tines away from Ophelia. His bond-mate was strong, and she could fight this gilded bastard; all he would have to do is give her the space to do so.

The Amaranthine was grateful for Tinek’s thoughts, the pair sharing every moment like dancers watching one another in a mirror. His voice was far preferable to the grating tenor of Thranduil’s, and she raised a thin, barely amused brow in response to his silly attempt to get beneath her skin. “Mmm. I would much rather be beneath Torleik than listening to you now,” she replied, not the least bit shy about what she had been doing as of late. “And thusfar, my only chores have been removing the occasional pest, like you…” she trailed, growling.

She had not heard that he left the Basin, though it made sense now. Thranduil didn’t seem the type to want to face Deimos’ wrath if Ophelia came knocking at the sentinels, demanding his blood, and she smiled softly, wondering what he had done to earn his exile. She chuckled in response to his self-inflating proclamations. Maybe this was why he left the Basin. Maybe he gave this same speech to Deimos and earned naught but an eye roll. Oh, a girl could dream…

“Generally if you have to demand a title, you have not earned it,” she replied, sighing. “Pride comes before the fall, Tarnished Thief.” Ophelia was unsure if she would win or lose with how similarly they were matched. Though he was taller, she was slender, built for speed and strength. He was perhaps more agile – that remained to be seen, but as of now, all she could work on was assumption and that was disconcerting. His build reminded her of Deimos, and that battle had not gone in her favor.

But, he played his hand early. Archibald stood before her now, a clever guise, and she smirked. She had fought with and beside this beast before, and she snorted a white cloud of amusement. Ophelia was perfectly content with chatting, but now she very much wanted to pummel his ass into the ground. So, she didn’t deny it. Instead, she prepared herself, watching the snow begin to vibrate as earth was yanked upward. She narrowed her gaze curiously, shirking to the left as a familiar tug pulled at her limbs.

So he could copy magic now? Concerning. She would have to tell Archibald that his powers were being mimicked. Ophelia fought the thickness in her limbs and reached back, yanking a sun amulet from her mane as she mentally summoned her armor. A thousand points of light burst from the metal ornaments, weaving itself into silver armor that encased her body, protecting her from most of the rocks being flung her way while she moved sluggishly. They bounced off with angry thuds, combusting on impact, and she ducked her head carefully as Tinek launched himself toward the deer, his goals aforementioned.

Two of the stones collided with her bare upper legs, and she hissed in an angry breath, feeling the molten projectiles burn her hide. Ophelia quickly shoved the essence of her memory removal magic into the stone and immediately turned it back on Thranduil, hoping to compound the effects from the amulet with direct use of her magic. Thus marked her transition from defense to offense, not a breath of hesitation as she smoothly reached for his mind. She aimed to take as many memories of herself as possible and rip them from his very skull. If he didn’t forget her entirely, then hopefully he would lose her current position, giving her the appearance (or lack thereof) of invisibility.

Beneath the hopeful guise of her magic, she launched forward, feeling the burn on her forelegs as the skin stretched over tensed muscles. She ignored the pain and wasted no time tucking her chin to her chest, aiming to drive the point of her spiraled horn into the meaty flesh of his right shoulder. She wouldn’t go for the heart – not yet. Possessing such a diseased organ as his was punishment enough.  



------------------------
(1/4) (793 words in word)
- USES A SUN AMULET
- tries to compound her memory removal magic to rip memories of herself from his head
- Tries to stab his right shoulder with her horn
- Tinek aims to keep the deer away




Coding by Tamme with credits to Sevin | Art by Yewrezz




Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.


Please tag me in every response!

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
#4




Hot damn! Where was this mare in the Basin? Gone were the soft spoken whispers, leaving only the darker soul. It made his laughter boom deeper, rolling in the twisted love of this game they played, and to see the Amaranthine in her true colors. Gone were the days when the tension in him saw only fire at the slightest insult. Once more he could laugh.

Would she be surprised though to know the truth about him? Or would she think it another lie to hear how the gold had done no wrong in the mountains, but left, in secret? That he left that vale because it made him sick, and he felt crushed under the weight?  Perhaps the tale would one day be told. But probably not (So perhaps it was better she did not speak those thoughts). Clearing his name wasn’t exactly a hobby. Getting it dirty, now that was a blast.

And get it dirty he did. The black coat of Archibald trembled with effort and began to lather in sweat. The magic lashing out in his blood was untamed, and the effort to keep it all together was enormous. Oh, but the surging power was addicting.

The quick tongue of the mare did not match the speed of her steps, and the willed projectiles took aim. But instead of cries of pain, only a small hiss, and the clink of stone on metal reached his ears. Growling Archibald looked up, preparing to-Wait…who was that white and red mare?

Haldir was ready. The little brave stag would not leave his bonded to face the dangers alone as before. This time they were in it together. A dark shadow passed overhead, glinting with silver, but the deer was ready. He sidestepped quickly away from the gold as dark mists began to swirl at his hooves and tines. Head tosses, threatening, the bold of his youth arming him-but…something’s wrong…Pale eyes glance to gold black, to see confusion on his brow.

Panicked the deer yelled through their connection. ”Thranduil! Ophelia!” She was readying for another attack! Yet only a small “Who?” returned. And the gold exhales, not sure why he was in the form of Archibald anyway, and the black form falls away like dust. Haldir was desperate. How could the gold suddenly forget- Oh! ”Magic!” That did it. Thranduil still didn’t know the mare, but he would not yield to magic. He was losing the memories, and the mare’s form coming towards him was already flickering away, yet the magic must be stopped (no matter who, what, or where it came from). A silver stone awakened in his circlet, and there it swirled dark, shielding.

Then it all broke. The stone shattered as the magic was reflected, and turned against the maker. What it would do the gold did not know. The gold inhaled anew and the devil’s grin rose back on his lips for his escape. Haldir felt the change through the bond, and with his own grin (satisfied to show himself needed here) faced his foe, mists rising now all about him.  Yet with the magic ceased, the blood stained mare reappeared to the golden, and the smile turned wicked again. Ophelia. Clever fucking mare. The gold wasted no time (for there was little left), and whispered sharply: “Anduial.” Metal snapped out, losing the usual grace for the demanded quickness.

As metal plate began to unfold over his eyes, and a multitude of horns grew, the golden’s head and shoulder surged right. His hinds, with shields snapped over them, shoved off, propelling him, putting power behind his blades, and sending snow flying. His body though protested, with the recovery from his fight with Tingal not long past, and the effort of his prior attack, he was slow and already worn. Plus there hadn’t been time to aim, nor chance to find a weak point in the armor. So the gold could only aim low, and jerk up, hoping to hit something, and dig deep and long, or at least shove his weight into her and throw her off.

Only he was hit first. A clack of sounds, as Ophelia’s horn struck his collar, yet his own attack has him moving, and the horn slid, slipping from the collar. Pain stung on the golden’s shoulder as the damn mare’s horn sliced into his shoulder, before meeting metal once more. The cut was small and only deep where it slid off the collar, yet the nerves burned with fire, and red ran freely. Oh but the golden was a twisted man and as the pain singed his shoulder, his own blades still sought revenge and his wicked, smug smile never faltered. This was more like it. No more quiet, tame Basin afternoons. Good Gods he missed this life!

OOC:: USES A SPARK AMULET
WC:: 799
ATK:: 2/4
INJURIES:: Slow from Tingal, Small shallow scratch 4" long on shoulder
Identities:: Erebos, Tembovu
Items:: Circlet (polearm, Spark amulet, Moon amulet(containing Ashamin's heart magic))
SUMMARY:: Thranduil drops Archibald's form confused by Ophelia's magic. Haldir, preparing for Tinek, tells him its magic and the gold summons a spark amulet. He sees Ophelia and calls out his armor, and tried to lunge toward her, but gets scratched between collar and armor.




[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.
Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme
#5


"Where worlds collide, blood divides
When darkness falls, fate calls"
Though not particularly known to have a sense of humor, Ophelia failed to see the source of his amusement in all this. First, he threatened to steal her or something of hers (she wasn’t sure which), and then he professed himself to be the be-all-end-all of spying (even though he failed at it). Now, he was laughing, and she saw no reason for his amusement. He was not in a lofty position to find humor in the plebeians. By his own admission, they were both outcasts and he was acting a fool.

Perhaps it was the thought that she was not being taken seriously which chapped at her pride, but she flung the thought away, having never cared much about others’ opinions. No, truly this was about vengeance: the ever burning fire of her soul; red hot and violent it licked at the sides of her throat, tendrils curling up into her irises as she planned and executed her first attack.

She kept her cloven hooves moving, making a concentrated effort to never stop lest he overpower her in her complacency. Blood began to trickle like whispers down her forelegs, the damaged flesh beneath her pale skin groaning under the tension of movement. Ophelia sent the dual forces of her magic from two sources upon her enemy and approached, gasping when she watched a stone shatter upon his brow.

“Amulet!” Tinek yelled through their bond. Her mind began to grow weak as it folded in on itself, the paradox of forgetting oneself generating dimensions of cacophony. She suffered seconds of torture before she was able to summon the magic to block her own mind, but this time from herself.

Those seconds were too long.

Her rattled mind was shaken to its very core, and pain greater than a physical knife to her head stabbed its way between her ears. Clouds blocked her vision as tears leaked from her eyes, the agony in her head screaming and echoing in her own ears.

The oath she made for herself kept her vessel in constant motion despite the fog of pain in her head, and she felt her horn hit soft, tender flesh before bouncing off… metal?  Wasn’t he trying to hit her earlier? She missed it somehow, but perhaps only because she had hit him first… Metal? He had armor on?

The query was answered in pain, but it was both a blessing and a curse. As her horn slid free, she moved forward, his shoulder rocking into her right one, and the pikes along the plating jabbed cleanly into the meat of her withers. Ophelia stifled a cry and instead praised the Sun God that this exchange of agony cleared the throbbing in her skull. She wanted to laugh in pleasure at the ecstasy she felt upon being released from her own migraine, even as she tried to limp away from Thranduil.

With a deep breath she glanced down at her own body, seeing evenly spaced but deep puncture wounds in her right shoulder. Blood leaked from the holes and spiraled down her shapely leg, warm and treacherous as it left her body for another host. She snorted indignantly, anger filling all the voids of her soul. Dark red rain began to fall upon her pelt from the cloudless sky, invisible until the drops hit her white skin and slid down. Crimson tears curled over her cheeks and hid her injuries in the very tint of her pelt as she moved toward Thranduil, a slight limp in her gait from her right shoulder.

Not even the bitter chill of the snow could cool her temper now, and she squinted her eyes against the wan sunlight bouncing off the white ground. Tinek growled, keeping track of the deer-thing as he flew over Ophelia, exhaling static and frost at the ground around the back of his bond-mate to keep her protected as she danced her way into her next attack.

Curious about the amulets still, she took another one out of her mane, quickly stuffing her own memory magic in again. As she hoped to be within range of his armored, golden body, she unleashed the powers within the light dangling from her forehead, closing her own eyes quickly lest she be blinded. Simultaneously, she utilized the amulet with her memory magic within, hoping that the light caused him to be dazed and give his mind less fortitude against her powers. Her body was too injured, so she assumed the role of mage instead of warrior.

Unable to wait to see if her plan worked, she tried to sidle closer sideways, sending her uninjured left side in first as she protected her right. With bared teeth, she reached out and snapped at his lower neck, hoping to find it unprotected.


------------------------
(2/4) (797 words in word)
- USES A SUN AMULET
- mind magic turned back on her causes massive head pain
- takes full, direct damage from his shoulder armor and has a right side limp now
- Puts her memory removing magic into the amulet again and uses it at the same time she flashes the light from this item:
:: [ Item: Sunlight Essence | Offensive. An orb of sunlight tied around her horn that can emit blinding light when needed. ]
:: [ Restrictions | Can be used to temporarily blind opponents - effects lasting 10 seconds. ]
- Reaches out to bite at the underside of his neck



Coding by Tamme with credits to Sevin | Art by Yewrezz


@Thranduil




Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.


Please tag me in every response!

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#6
Thranduil defaults to Ophelia. Ophelia earns 0.5 VP and being left alone by Thranduil.

Partial judging requested
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#7
By my verdict: OPHELIA is the winner!

THRANDUIL
Realism [+2.5]
Firstly, I will say that you seem to have the mechanics of battle down. It has been fun watching you grow as a fighter!

For something you could improve on, make sure when you're comparing characters you are accurate to their given stats. You write that Ophelia might not be as quick as Thranduil, when in fact Ophelia's speed stat is higher than his. Always make sure to check profiles and the stats sheet to back-up what you write. I would have also liked to see you incorporate the surroundings and environment of the battle more.

I thought it was very realistic to have Thranduil's use of Archibald's magic be so hard to control and wild. For something foreign to Thranduil, especially a magic that is upgraded AND wielding two magics simultaneously, I thought you wrote this very well. Thranduil struggled with the magic and did not fully understand it, which was great! If he had fully understood or wielded it perfectly, I think that would have been stepping into meta-playing and you did a great job at keeping it realistic and within the game's parameters.

I also liked that you reference Thranduil's spat with Tingal and how it affected his movements in post two. Great job!

Emotion [+2]
The emotion throughout your spar was present. I loved Thranduil's manic humor and his passion for being a free man. It shows that you are really connected with this character!

Prose [+2.5]
You are a great writer with a unique style. However, try not to start sentences with “and” as it is not completely gramatically correct. You only had one error that I could find, listed below:

P1: “He laugher rolls” – His laughter


Readability [+2]
Throughout both posts you had some tense changes that made readability a little difficult. Coupling with that, you also went from writing actively to passively a few times, and that was distracting.



Finally tally: 50+(9*2)= 67 HP


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


OPHELIA
Realism [+2.5]
It is obvious you are an advanced fighter and know the mechanics of battle. You did well in comparing Ophelia and Thranduil in stats and history—having Ophelia compare Thranduil to Deimos was an excellent and realistic use of her battle-knowledge and history. Good job. You also did well in responding to Ophelia’s reverberated magic, and I really enjoyed reading it.

One thing I found to be in err was that you did not mention his companion’s magic in your second post. Make sure to respond to everything your opponent writes, even if it does not affect your character in any way. You mention the sun reflecting off the snow in post two, which actually would have been hindered some due to the Dark Mists. Read carefully!

Emotion [+1]
Ophelia was great in this partial spar. It is apparent you know her well. Her emotion was present in more than just the manifestation of her Passive Magic, which was nice to see. Her responses and feelings were incredible to read.

Prose [+3]
You are a great writer, with only one error I could see, regarded below:
P1: “And thusfar, my only chores…” :: thus far

One line that you wrote which made me begging for more was in post two, where you wrote: “No, truly this was about vengeance: the ever burning fire of her soul; red hot and violent it licked at the sides of her throat, tendrils curling up into her irises as she planned and executed her first attack.” The imagery of that was amazing.

Readability [+2]
Your posts were easy to read and fluid. It was obvious you proofread.

Finally tally: 54+(9.5*2)=  73 HP

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#8
Thranduil's final HP after the addition of the rubric should be 68. Ophelia's should be 54+(8.5*2)=71. The outcome remains the same.


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