the Rift

eye of the storm (vol vs seanan)

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

The sky is ripped apart, torn asunder by the wrath of the Gods themselves. The storm is fierce, no doubt brought on by the hot spring temperatures that seemed to stifle the residents of Helovia, and there is a certain majesty to be witnessed in the howling thunder and flashing lightning. It is an unusual sight in the otherwise unusually dry Birdsong, but there is no logic to the coming of a storm.

Most horses with brains in their heads are huddled away from the storm, nestled beneath trees or in caves, necks bowed against the wind. Not Volterra. He ascends the path to the Heavenly Fields, his mane whipped around his face by the force of the gale, his muscles quivering with the bone-deep cold. God, it's been months since the last time he was cold, and he finds the sensation quite glorious. His jet-black fur, soaked to a shade of deepest obsidian by the driving rain, clings to each hard contour and rough-hewn line of his body, accentuating the stern rises and falls of his muscles as he prowls up the mountain path.

His dragons fight against the wind, their leathery wings spread wide in a futile attempt to capture the air beneath them. They growl and snarl as they struggle against the storm, both unused to meeting an element that does not simply bend to their splendour. So dense is the rainfall that their scales are simply occasional glints amongst the downpour, the sun hidden behind the black clouds and witholding the rays that would usually have made their red and gold hues gleam like gemstones.

The goliath finally slows to a halt, turning side-on to the elements so the rain crashes against his left side rather than his face. He has come up here in this foul weather to fight, because it's very rare that there's a storm in which to train himself, and this is too good an opportunity to pass up. He lifts his colossal head to the ominous heavens and roars a battlecry that rivals the thunder itself, summoning an opponent brave - or stupid - enough to tangle with him in the storm.


Teaching spar for @Seanan !

Set in the Heavenly Fields during a heavy thunderstorm :D Up to you whether you want Vol to use his magic/companions or not! Good luck! ^_^

0/3 - words

image credits

[ 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 ]

Seanan Posts: 44
Outcast atk: 8.0 | def: 10.0 | dam: 2.0
Stallion :: Equine :: 17 :: 9 HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
This storm finds Seanan in the open, and it makes all the difference.  There is something familiar about the rage of this downpour, though he does not know if it is memory or kinship he feels.  Rose-tinted eyes close as he stands immobile in the pouring rain, head turned up as if in worship.  His body is stretched towards the sky, the rain striking him head on as he revels in the roar of thunder and the brief flashes of eldritch fire that leap down from the angry clouds.  Each time lightning strikes, it turns the water into sheets of quicksilver, as reflective as shards of mirrors and nearly as impossible to see through. Two horses could pass each other in this storm and never know the other existed.

There is a brief lull between the rolling thunder and in it he hears an earthly echo of the storm's music.  It is a challenge.  He turns towards the sound, uncertain for a moment before a flash of lightning reveals a glimpse of a dark silhouette in the rain, closer than he expects but far enough for his purposes.  

He does not see the dragons or he might have thought better of accepting.

Instead he lets the rage of the storm carry lightning to his blood.  The shine of his coat is transmuted by the deluge of water, turning him from a figurine of pearl into a spectre in the dark.  Pale hooves cut into the field and he wheels until the rain is behind him.  The wind seems to push him, urge him forward.  His body stretches, lengthens.  His blood ignites.  The impact of the ground all but disappears in the drum of his heart and the way the storm seems to shake the very air.  His reply is not a roar but a scream like a striking falcon, a sharp crack of lightning to echo the thunder.

The other stallion is not so much taller than him but still Seanan rears his forelegs half off the ground, front hooves striking out at where he believed the other stallion's left side is, the driving rain behind him. His momentum is barely checked by his hind hooves digging into the slick grass and mud.  Quick as a viper his muzzle strikes forward, ivory teeth trying for the muscular black withers he knows must be there somewhere, in the dark, over the broad back.  He is striking for control.

He is under no illusions as to his chances.  The glimpse the lightning showed him was a warrior of the kind that has no place in the desert.  In heat and driving sands, perhaps Seanan would have the advantage.  That doesn't matter right now.  This is a dance and Seanan is eager to perform.

473 words
1/3 Attacks 0/1 Closing Defense

Summary: Seanan comes at Vol's left side, with the driving rain behind him.  He half-rears and lashes out with his front hooves and tries to bite at Vol's withers, barely checking his momentum.

I don't really care either way about magic or companions :)  Seanan has neither, but I don't really care about this being 'fair', haha.  Whatever you think would be more in character for Volterra ^.^  Also, do you want to be tagged?
All interactions are go, short of death and permanent crippling.

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

The goliath's ears pivot, his nostrils flare, and his eyes flicker; he uses all his senses to try and pick up any sign of an approaching opponent. He is glad he has chosen such tricky conditions in which to fight, because there is a good chance that, when he is a king, he will meet an enemy who chooses to attack beneath the cover of a storm. He needs to be prepared for that eventuality.

When he has sparred in weather like this previously, he has shamelessly stolen the eyes of his dragons to help him see through the deluge. Today, however, he resists that urge. He imagines a scenario where this hypothetical enemy possesses magic that severs his bond to his precious companions; he imagines this enemy approaching him through the storm and catching him unawares. He narrows his mental bond with the red and gold down to the tiniest tendril, and relies solely on his own senses.

It's harder than he'd anticipated; he itches to delve into his dragons' minds and see through their sharp predator's eyes. It worries him how reliant he seems to be upon their senses in conditions like these, and this helps strengthen his resolve to fight without their help. He will not become a true warlord, a living embodiment of steel and invincibility, until he can fight completely independently from his scaled weapons.

He feels like a blind man without his dog; a superhero without his cape. But, he thinks grimly, it will help in the end.

It's his ears that pick up the first sign of his approaching foe. In the lapse between a flash of lightning and the ensuing lion's roar of thunder, there's a moment of blessed, peaceful silence - and in this gap, this abyss between worlds, he hears the squelch of hooves on mud.

Instinct seizes him, and he begins to turn towards the sound. He receives a faceful of rain for his troubles, and growls angrily as he's forced to narrow his eyes against the torrent. His opponent is wily, approaching with the rain at their back. This won't help his dragon-less senses, and he silently begrudges his own damn stupidity about not seizing the initiative to stand with his back to the rain before his opponent could.

Because of the leviathan's half-turn to his right, his foe's hooves strike just behind the region where his left foreleg joins his side. As he's in motion when the hooves collide with him, it's a slide moreso than a solid connection, which lessens the damage he's dealt; his flesh blossoms into a light bruise, painful but not impeding. The base of his neck is dealt a similar blow by his opponent's teeth, but again he's spared some damage because of his movement. The bite creates a small, localized and irritatingly painful bruise akin to a hornet sting, and his tail involuntarily slaps against his flanks as though to dissuade said hornet from attacking him again.

His eyes are blurred by the rain, and his ears are lost in the tangled storm of his mane because of this frustrating fact. He can just make out the general shape of his opponent - tall, only a tad less so than himself, but thin and spindly rather than bulky and powerful - and it takes every ounce of his resolve not to jump into the eyes of one of his dragons in order to take a closer look. No, he will do this au naturel, as though he has no companions.

Turning further right, into the rain driving against his face, is not the most sensible idea he's ever had. But it seems to be his only option - he's a massive, cumbersome creature, whereas what he can make out of his opponent implies that they're slim and speedy. It's unlikely Volterra could turn fully to his left, to try and use his hindlegs to attack, before his foe could move out of the way. So right it is; the sensation of the rain hammering into his face is almost unbearable, and he ducks his head to try and negate it, but he's still damn near blinded by the storm.

He hopes to turn enough to bring himself facing his opponent's left shoulder in a T-shape, violently swinging his haunches and using the slick ground to aid the speed of the movement. He aims to bite the slender stallion's left withers (or the rain-blurred approximation of them), hoping to plant a harsh nip on them as he had to Volterra; simultaneously, his left forehoof stomps sharply down, attempting to grind the tip of the hoof down the outside of the other male's left foreleg. He hopes to create one long, continuous bruise from knee to fetlock, using the colossal weight of his feathered foot.


Teaching spar for @Seanan !

Teaching notes below! :D

1/3 - 798 words

image credits

Teaching notes:

Spelling/grammar/prose - Hoooolyyy damn your writing is beautiful! Sentences like this: 'Rose-tinted eyes close as he stands immobile in the pouring rain, head turned up as if in worship' and 'The shine of his coat is transmuted by the deluge of water, turning him from a figurine of pearl into a spectre in the dark' had me <33333-ing at the screen. I love your use of italics - I'm a shameless ho for italics - and your overall prose was absolute perfection.

Your spelling and grammar were flawless, so overall this particular section of my notes seems rather redundant xDD I always find that if you can get the basics of spelling/grammar down correctly, the rest of fighting is pretty easy to master. Not to mention the fact that there's whole sections in the judging rubric for readability and prose, so you're well on your way to scoring highly in those, which means you're well on your way to getting a good score overall.

I'm not sure if you already know how the judging works (please slap me if you do haha) but your rubric score is doubled and then added to your remaining HP from the dice rolls. This pretty much means that it's very possible to overturn a HP deficit after the dice rolls, as long as you do the writing part well. So whilst having good stats is a great starting point and gives you more room for error with your writing, doing the 'fighty part' well means that you have a great chance of winning even if the dice screw you over! In other words, try not to get disheartened if you ever have bad rolls against you :)

General spelling/grammar is, imo, the easiest way to rack up points in the rubric, so keep up the great work! :D

Emotion - I got a basic grasp of Seanan from this post, but I'd love to see more! I liked his bit about how he might not have accepted the challenge had he seen the dragons, so you could maybe elaborate more on that in his next posts. I love reading my opponent's motivations behind the fight, and their reactions when they or my character land a hit. I personally find that pumping emotion into fight posts can be quite tricky, especially if it's a more technical fight where a lot of your word count is taken up by attack and defense, so what I suggest doing is reading the fight posts of some of the characters who fight often and have a lot of buffs. I'd suggest someone like Gaucho, Ashamin or Mauja, as their fight posts are always full of feels and they can definitely give you a good idea of what judges look for when it comes to emotion.

I wouldn't suggest analysing Volterra's fight posts too deeply - he has the emotional range of a boulder xP He basically fluctuates between anger and more anger in his fight posts, but I've made a rod for my own back by making him such a fight-orientated, fearless and volatile character. I love the challenge of writing that in fights, although sometimes I wish he was slightly less shallow lmfao. For you, Seanan's free to develop in any way you see fit during your fight posts, and I can't wait to read more of him! :D As long as you stay true to his personality and the judge can see why he feels everything he feels, you should be fine in this particular section.

Attacks - I loved the way Seanan approached with the driving rain behind him - this is a great idea and definitely incorporates the surroundings! However I would have liked to see you spell out WHY he's doing this. So the rain goes in Vol's eyes and not his, so he can try to get the element of surprise, etc? Mentioning the surroundings is always a great idea but make sure you really elaborate on how they're going to affect you and your opponent.

As for your attacks themselves, they were really good as a whole! I love attacks that happen simultaneously or in close proximity, as I always find they're a lot more realistic than attacks over a longer period of time. After all, most fight posts are probably only a few seconds in length! So it was a great idea to have him lash out with his hooves and bite at the same time. You were clear where you were aiming for, and I could visualise the attack in my mind.

My only small gripe was that you say Seanan is 'trying for the muscular black withers he knows must be there somewhere, in the dark, over the broad back'. To me, this implies he's reaching fully over Vol's back to bite the opposite side of his withers, which would be tricky given he's half-rearing to attack with his feet. I'd have been inclined to say he leaned across the back rather than over it, which seems more like he's aiming for the nearest part of the withers. This is only a tiny thing, though - overall your attacks were great! :D

Damage taken - N/A

Other - You did a good job of mentioning the surroundings, and you made reference to Vol's height and general warrior-ness. You could also mention their stat differences by looking at their base stats - for example, Vol's stronger, so his hits will hurt more, but Seanan is a lot faster and has greater endurance. You could mention how this will affect them - maybe Seanan could ponder over trying not to take any heavy hits and playing the long game so Vol tires first, or something.

The only other thing I'd say was that your fight post was quite short. You're allowed up to 800 words, and you only used 473. You could have used your remaining 300+ words to cram in some more emotion, or note the surroundings/your opponent some more. Obviously quality is better than quantity, and although your post was short it was still really good, but I always use as many of my allowed words as possible - there's always something I can find to add in, whether it be a more descriptive sentence for the weather or a more specific positioning for an attack.

Overall this was a great fight post, considering it's only your second fight, you're doing great! ^_^

[ 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 ]

Seanan Posts: 44
Outcast atk: 8.0 | def: 10.0 | dam: 2.0
Stallion :: Equine :: 17 :: 9 HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
It's a clash, like waves breaking on rock.  The rain and his opponent's movement prevent the solid lock that Seanan wanted but it doesn't lessen the victory he feels as his teeth hit hair and hide, with solid muscle beneath.  It's only when he feels the mountain he's struck move that instinct kicks in.  His hooves slide and scramble on the wet grass as he comes back to all fours, shoving himself back away from the titan, avoiding the the type of body to body crush that he would undoubtedly lose.  He doesn't have the weight to win that.  All he can see in the intermittent flashes of lightening are the clash of teeth and red eyes blazing in the stranger's white-blazed face.  But he's trying to back away and it's hard to see what is black and what is simply dark.

The blaze.  He focuses on the stranger's white face- with no distance between them he can make that out well enough and even in the dark it is more visible than the rest.  He realizes distantly that he has escaped great harm, and yet it does not bother him.  His blood is high.  Other than thunder all he can hear is the drumming of his own heart, fierce music.  He shakes his head hard to fling his short, water-logged forelock from his face.  For once he does not feel like he is drowning, despite the rain.  The fire in his belly burns his lungs clear and makes the wind he draws in feel like the breath of the desert.  He wonders why he is fighting now.  Storms are the time to wait, a time of quiet and peace.  Waiting for new life to begin.

The rain pounds his back and neck and Seanan knows that if he backs off too far he will lose the advantage of his position.  He may not be able to see, but his opponent must be damned near blind.  He does not sportingly offer to move, to put them on equal footing.  This is not a gentleman's sport.  They do not fight for land or honor or women.  They fight as men.

He doesn't know what the titan fights for.  Seanan fights to lose.  He loses himself in feeling of muscles rippling beneath flesh, the metallic taste of adrenaline on the back of his tongue, the tunnel vision and the blissful focus that makes everything else unimportant.

No past.  No future.

He cannot think of him as an enemy- this stranger has done nothing to wrong him, and indeed Seanan even feels some kinship to him.  They are testing each other, are they not?  There is something to be said for that, in his mind.  Two acts he knows of force two individuals into this kind of intimacy- sex and combat.  

He moves in a quick lunge, trying to close the distance he had put between them and wheel to meet the leviathan head.  He can feel the change in the angle of the rain on his body and he has half a heartbeat to wonder if it is a mistake.  His hind hooves slide on the mud and grass and he does not trust the footing enough to dare anything showy.  Instead he lunges, attempting to come chest to chest with the behemoth and force him backwards.  His teeth snap are the blazing red eyes, striving for cheek or ear- trying to force the massive head up and away.  He does not really think it will work- the other called for this challenge and does not seem inexperienced.  Still, if he can keep him off balance then he has a chance.  His skin still seems to recoil at the though of such physical closeness but he clamps down the instinct.  His fore-hooves strike in quick, sharp downward motions, trying to skim the hard edges down the front of the black beast's canons.  

He has done this before.  For a moment he does not see rain and darkness but glaring sun, amber sands.  In a heartbeat his opponent has a dozen coat colors, a dozen styles of body each slimmer and smaller than the one he truly faces tonight.  Then lightning flashes and his reality is again the storm.  

And he remembers that he fights for nothing.

OOC:// @Volterra
Words: 690
2/3 attacks 0/1 closing defense
^.^  Thanks for the comments!  So I wasn't really sure how to handle this with the roll being what it was.  I tried hard to leave it very vague but I'm a little worried that I didn't acknowledge Volterra's attacks enough?  I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts!  I'm kind of proud of myself for using more words this time XD
All interactions are go, short of death and permanent crippling.

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

Luck is a strange thing.

There are many warriors who swear that there is no such thing as luck on the battlefield. They believe that strength of body and mind will always override fortune's interfering hand; that a true warrior will be able to overcome any unfortunate incidents flung into his path, and rise victorious with bloodied sword and triumphant heart.

To an extent, Volterra agrees. He trains as arduously as he does so that he can crush mitigating circumstances when fighting; minor things like sun, mud and wind have been tested and conquered by the ebony leviathan. Small quirks of chance will not take him down.

But he also believes that sometimes, things are meant to happen. He remembers his spar with Grimalkin, when one fateful slip of a hoof sent him skidding to the ground and nearly cost him the fight. Sometimes luck bites him on the ass. Sometimes, the Gods send him events that are meant to try him, events that no mortal man can hope to plot against.

This is one of those times.

His haunches, which he'd violently swung to the right to allow him to turn faster, are the cruel architects of his downfall. He realises he's misjudged even as he's pivoting, realises that he's put too much into the movement, that the ground is too slick to warrant such a vigorous flinging. His right hindhoof hits a patch of muddier ground and slides outwards, sending his whole body into an ungainly lurch. There's a sickening jerk in his stomach as he realises that he's falling, and he desperately throws out his legs to try and save himself. He's Bambi on ice, and he can't stop his hindlegs from folding beneath his weight as they struggle to compensate.

Before he knows it, his rear legs are trapped beneath his colossal hindquarters and he's sat neatly down upon them. Pain spasms through the tendons of both hindlegs - they've been badly jarred and twisted in the fall, and sitting his full weight down on them certainly hasn't helped. With a monstrous roar, the behemoth manages to unfurl his trapped limbs and lunge back to all fours, aching as he realises the true extent of this colossal mistake. Falling over in battle is a cardinal sin. It is a foolish, foolish thing to do, and his savage temper bursts free in an ungodly snarl of frustration. His ears slam backwards, his eyes roll, and he realises that he can see even less now - he's managed to kick mud into his own eyes, he's nearly completely blinded...

CRASH. Did he think his opponent would be gracious enough to allow him to stand before attacking? No, this is not what happens in battle. Battle is bloody, messy and every man for his fucking self, and Volterra would have done the same. Seanan's chest slams hard into his; normally, this wouldn't have even caused him to budge, but he's still unbalanced having stood up less than a second ago. A light bruise erupts onto his chest and he feels the strain of his injured hindlegs as they fight to stop him tumbling again. He throws up his head as an automatic reaction, which prevents his foe's teeth hitting their mark.

Then, the coup de grace; the other's right foreleg misses as Volterra staggers backwards, but Seanan's left foreleg crashes against the leviathan's right cannon bone with a sickening thud. The pain is intense; as well as the hoof scraping down his flesh, it also badly bruises the tendon within. The leg is almost useless now, and the beast immediately shifts to lift his weight from it.

David 1, Goliath 0.

Volterra explodes. Fuelled by frustration and disgust at his own clumsiness, infuriated by the pain rippling throughout his body, he feels a sudden crack in his mane as one of the amulets he keeps stashed there smashes beneath the force of his will. Suddenly, his teeth are coated in something, and he loses no time in lunging his neck forwards in an attempt to pepper Seanan's face and neck with bites. He might hardly be able to see, but he can smell the reek of another stallion, and uses this to aim with. He doesn't realise that his mother's corrosive magic, placed in the amulet at his birth, is clinging to his teeth like a broken promise.

His dragons itch to help, but he forbids it. If he is to lose because of his own stupid mistake, then he will lose alone.


Teaching spar for @Seanan !

Uses his Moon Amulet with Confutatis' magic in:

:: [ Magic: Dark | Induces heavy infection upon biting immediately, causes swelling, pus, sloughing and in extreme cases, loss of limb or tissue ]
:: [ Restrictions | Extreme effects require permission and the infection will progress more slowly in battle; the saliva venom takes time to regenerate, so the subsequent bites will be far less potent ]

2/3 - 752 words

image credits

This is going well, isn't it? Lmfao xD Remember my advice in my previous post, not to get disheartened by bad rolls? It's very, very rare that the rolls are THIS bad. Critical misses are incredibly unlikely (unless your name is Snow) and for your opponent to then roll a critical hit is rotten luck as well. BUT. Sometimes, dodgy rolls actually make battles a lot more interesting. As I said in my previous notes, Vol's got the emotional range of a rock, but when he takes a few heavy hits and falls on his ass, his temper flares up. Angry, berserker-Vol is much more fun to write than oh-yay-another-spar-Vol, so I actually don't mind these dodgy rolls that much. They make things interesting - if you ever get them against you, you can use them to get some character development in, or to really spice up your fight posts. In other words, even shitty rolls can be used to your advantage :)

Now watch me miss my remaining 2 attacks. It's just one of those fights I think xP

ALSO. In this post, I used an amulet. If you haven't already read the Guidebook page on amulets, I definitely recommend you do. I've never used one before (desperate times, desperate measures, etc) but basically they provide a one-off stat boost. So basically, now I've used this amulet, Vol's attack will be 8.5 (instead of 6.5) for one post, and his defence will be 11.5 instead of 9.5. It means his attack will hit provided I don't roll another critical miss (which is actually pretty likely lmfao). Don't worry too much about the defence part - Seanan's attack is so high that he'll probably still hit even with my defence boost. Basically, if you get a nice stash of amulets up, they can come in really useful in battle :D

Spelling/grammar/prose - This part was excellent, again. You'll definitely have no problems scoring highly in this section! I only noticed two typos ('His teeth snap are the blazing red eyes' should be 'at' not 'are', and 'lightening' as no E in it) so it's obvious you proof-read, which is great! I always say that this section is one of the easiest ways to earn points purely by maintaining a high level of writing, which you're already doing. So definitely keep up the good work!

Emotion - Good again! :D I love how he has a kinship with Vol over fighting, and how he remarks that sex and combat are both forced types of intimacy. Vol would definitely bro-fist him about this....if he wasn't currently getting his ass handed to him xD I also loved the little hint of his past, when he mentioned seeing golden sands and a smaller opponent.

Attacks - Your attacks were great, really well described and easy to understand. As I said, I love simultaneous attacks, so these were really effective and clearly-written. I also loved the brutality of his hoof attack. Overall this was a brilliant post attack, defence and grammar-wise, so great job!

Damage taken - Critical misses can be a pain to react to, so I can definitely understand why you weren't sure how to respond to it. What I always do is err on the side of vagueness. I explain why my character took no damage (aka they moved) but make no mention of damage the other character might take - I leave that up to their writer. In other words, just focus on how you avoided the attack, and let your opponent worry about how they're going to take their critical miss damage :)

You did well reacting to it, I think. You explained why it missed (some people just say it missed, which borders on GM/PP as there's no reason WHY it missed) by having Seanan move away from the attacks, but didn't risk PPing by mentioning how Vol hurt himself. So you did the right thing!

Other - You did well mentioning the rain ('He can feel the change in the angle of the rain on his body and he has half a heartbeat to wonder if it is a mistake'), and also that he's struggling to make out Vol against the dark landscape. Incoporating these things into your posts is, I find, a really good thing to do because it gives a sense of realism that isn't often mentioned in RP fights. So definitely keep doing it!

[ 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 ]

Seanan Posts: 44
Outcast atk: 8.0 | def: 10.0 | dam: 2.0
Stallion :: Equine :: 17 :: 9 HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
In a flash of sky-fire Seanan has a sillouhette of his opponent, half crumpled to the earth and yet too large to overrun.  A thill of triumph flares in his chest and explodes into a stallion's squeal.  It is nearly involuntary, a vocal expression of the singing in his bones.  It is not like he is trying to be stealthy as he throws himself into the face of his opponent.  In the lapse of quiet between breaths of thunder, he hears a queers crack.

Then like a tidal wave, a force of nature himself, the dark behemoth rushes up and towards him, eyes blazing.  Seanan tries to jerk back but it is like fighting beneath a waterfall.  His hooves scramble and churn the earth as he backs up to avoid the snapping teeth but he is not quick to dodge in such close quarters.  He feels the scrap of hard ivories tearing the thin skin over the bones of his cheek below the left eye and he throws his head up and away in a desperate jerk.  The wound is fire and agony though he did not at first think it was so bad.  

Not even the rain can cover the sudden stench of sickness so close to his sensitive nostrils.

Again and again the brute's snaps find purchase, now on the right side of his exposed neck as he tries to curve the injured side of his head away.  He bleeds from half a dozen wounds though none as agonizing as the one on his face that soon begins to swell.  The inflamed flesh begins to force the eye closed, obscuring his vision already compromised be darkness and rain.  It is not natural and somewhere in the back of his rational brain he wonders if this is something like the magic that threw up walls in his path in other, more friendly spars.  Is this similar, this insidious, subtle thing?

Then he knows where he has seen something that he thinks would feel like this.  Black and rotting skin sloughing off the dying body of a horse, sprawled in agony on golden sands.  Nearby, the dead body of the dragon-winged pegasus who would have made off with her child.  It's fangs still leaked venom, though the head was smashed to pulp by the enraged hooves of the herd stallion.  He was young then.

He has not been a child in many years.

Blood runs black on the ghostly paleness of his hide, matting the thin, opalescent fur until he looks partly a creature of darkness himself, as if the demon's corruption has spread to the white wraith and begun to corrupt his corporeal form.  Fingers of fire- no, acid feel as though they stretch into his veins from the wounds, burning and eating away at the flesh.  There is no time for thought.  This is not a playful bout in a brightly sunlit meadow where he can easily pick and choose his actions, trying to hold back and not savagely injure his play partner.  This is primal and all he can act on is instinct as he screams his anger and throws his body up and forward.  His hind hooves find brief purchase cutting into the muddy ground and he lashes out with both front hooves in the direction the gnashing, cutting, burning teeth came from.  

As gravity drags him down he lashes out blindly with his teeth for poll or ear or blazing red eyes.  He no longer cares that this may leave him open- such concerns are beyond him now, lost in pain and anger and blood lust andthe lingering taste of triumph buoying him.

OOC:// @Volterra
620 Words
3/3 attacks 0/1 closing defense

I would love to do an aftermath thread or something if you're up to it, once this finished up XD The rolls have been so weird!
All interactions are go, short of death and permanent crippling.

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

His bites land, again and again and again. It feels delightful to finally crash a blow onto this wily opponent, to give the thinner stallion a small taste of what Volterra himself is suffering. The blackened goliath is no stranger to taking heavy damage in battle, but this sensation of utter humiliation is quite new to him. To slip and fall, and to then have his foe's hoof almost peel the flesh from one of his legs and render him hardly able to is a crushing blow not just against his body, but against his ego, too. This is a fight he could have and should have won with ease, and yet he's limping over the finish line, aching, bruised, stiff, sore and burning with embarrassment. Of course, he could still win, but even if he does, he thinks it will be a hollow victory.

This simply will not do. He thought himself nigh on invincible; a warlord, a beast, the Indomitable. This fight shows that he has quite a way to go before he earns the right to wear such a title. He needs to iron out these mistakes, rid himself of these infuriating acts of God that condemn him to wanton tumbles and humiliating slips. Of course, a part of him reasons that they are just that - acts of God, unable to be planned for. But he needs to work on how he handles such accidents, such quirks of fate; he cannot allow himself to be hamstrung by them.

His redemption must start now. In this howling storm, with rain driving against his skin and his muscles screaming for mercy, with the savage roar of the thunder that mimics the heavy beats of his heart and the lightning flashes that he can hardly see through mud-filled eyes, he must begin to crawl along that path to success. He cannot fall, even though he hurts everywhere. He cannot stop, just because this fight hasn't been easy, just because this opponent hasn't crumbled beneath his ire like so many others have. This cannot be his end - this has to be his beginning.

The beast can hardly make out his opponent's face through his mud and rain-filled eyes, but he can smell the hideous stench of corrosion-afflicted flesh. He knows that acrid odour, because his mother had used it to rupture his own skin so many times during his youth. Somehow, inexplicably, he has channeled his dam's magic into his own jaws - he attempts to do it again, but there is nothing across his teeth but saliva. He files this wonder under things to study at a later date, once this fight is done.

It is quite by chance that the blackened monolith stumbles backwards; instinct tells him that Seanan will not take his poisoned bites without rebuke, and he is correct. Air fizzing past his whiskers shows him that his foe's hooves have missed his head by a fraction; then there's a sting and an ache as the older male's teeth bite down upon his sensitive muzzle, leaving a light but painful bruise in their wake. It is nothing compared to the constant agony of his almost-crippled right foreleg, or the war-drum pulses of pain through both his badly jarred hindlegs, but it is certainly noticeable and certainly displeasing. He hardly has the energy to move, let alone fight back, but he cannot submit. He will not bend. He deserves every ounce of pain that he suffers through, deserves to break and burn for his stupidity. He will finish this battle, and in the coming days when he can hardly move from the agony, he will grit his teeth and know that this is his pennance. This is his self-flagellation. This is what he will learn from. This is how he will become steel.

With a monstrous scream that rivals the thunder ripping the sky above, the monolith extends what feels like the only part of his body that doesn't ache - his muscular, thick neck. Using his sense of smell (the rotten flesh reeks with the corpse-stink, combined with the stallion-stink) and hearing (in between the thunder, there's breathing), the leviathan aims to sink his teeth hard into Seanan's already-injured face and neck. He knows how much it hurts to have recent wounds abused further, and it is the only attack he can think of that doesn't involve the use of his three injured legs. He itches to rear up and thrash his forehooves at that corrosion-marked face, but does not trust his injured hindlegs to hold his colossal weight.

So he settles for biting, trying to use the power of jaws and teeth to mask the throbbing shame within his body.


Teaching spar for Seanan !

3/3 - 783 words

image credits

The joy of amulets! If I hadn't used one, Vol's attack would have missed, so they are actually mega useful! As I say, it's always good to have a stash of amulets around, as they do come in handy when you're in a bit of a pinch :)

Spelling/grammar/prose - Pretty much perfect, again! You've done great on that throughout the fight, which is really good to see. There were a couple of small typos:

'he hears a queers crack' should probably be 'queer' crack
'He feels the scrap of hard ivories' should have been 'scrape' I think?
'obscuring his vision already compromised be darkness and rain' Compromised 'by'
'andthe lingering taste of triumph buoying him' Space between 'and' and 'the'

Again, you had some really amazingly descriptive, beautiful sentences, such as 'Blood runs black on the ghostly paleness of his hide, matting the thin, opalescent fur until he looks partly a creature of darkness himself, as if the demon's corruption has spread to the white wraith and begun to corrupt his corporeal form.' I really like your writing style, and you should score really strongly in this section. Your descriptions of the landscape and your opponent are fantastic and vivid, so well done! :D

Emotion - You've done really well with this throughout the fight, and Seanan is a mega interesting character to read. I love the glimpses of his past, as well as his reaction to Vol's poisonous bites. I loved it so much I would have loved to read even more of it, and as I say in the 'other' section, you could have used your remaining words to cram in some more about this. What you did have was great, though, and you should also do well in this section with the judge.

Attacks - I loved both attacks, and you described them brilliantly. I could picture them clearly in my mind, and they were definitely realistic given the positioning of our characters. One thing you could have done with your bite attack is say that you're using your downwards weight to add extra force into it, which is a nice little quirk to add to your attacks to make them more difficult to react to. Throughout the fight, though, your attacks were pretty much spot-on. There was no confusion with directions, no impossible moves, which is lovely to see :)

Damage taken - I thought you took the damage really well, incorporating the amulet's magic as well as Vol's high damage stat. He rolled a 4, which when added to his 7 damage means it's a pretty hefty blow for him to land. My only tiny quarrel is that you describe the wounds as bleeding when horse teeth are too blunt to really be able to draw blood, however this is only a minor thing and everything else was absolutely spot on!

I'm not sure how much you know about the way damage works - you've done really well with it but I figure I'll throw in this little bit in case you're not 100% clear, as the dice system can be quite confusing. Vol's damage stat at the time of this fight was 7 (it's now 8 because of his buffs, but that doesn't affect this fight). 7 is a fairly high damage stat, so even if he rolls a 1, it's still going to hurt more than if Seanan rolled a 1. Seanan's damage stat is 2, which is really low, and basically means that even when he hits heavily, it doesn't hurt as much as when somebody like Vol hits heavily.

Normally when my character has a critical hit land on them like happened in my previous post, I'd maybe have them break a bone or some other very heavy damage. However, because of Seanan's damage stat, I just had his leg get quite badly hurt - enough to compromise his movement for the rest of the fight, but no lasting or crippling damage/broken bones. It can be tricky to know how much damage to take, but just make sure you look at the damage roll as well as the damage stat. You did really well with this though! :D

Other - It was a great fight thank you! And yes we need a thread afterwards :D You did great, to be honest - I really struggled to find anything to criticize in any of your posts, which is really good considering you're quite new to fighting on here. It made my notes quite hard though lmao because I was like CAN'T FIND ANYTHING BAD TO SAYYYY.

As I said in my first post, you could have used some more of your allotted word count in this last post. Although you fitted everything in nicely, and it's definitely about quality over quantity, you could have used your remaining 180 words to cram in some more descriptions, to really sell it to the judge when they're reading it. It's only a tiny thing and I'd much rather see a shorter post full of goodness than a longer post full of badness, but I think you could have used your remaining words to elaborate more on Seanan's reaction to the bite. What you did have was good - so good that I wanted more! - but remember you can use those remaining words to really add the finishing touches to an already great post :D

Overall, you should be proud of yourself, you did a brilliant job and you dealt well with some weird rolls (even though the rolls were good for you, it can still be quite hard to react to sometimes!)

[ 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 ]

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Timeline exceeded, Seanan defaults to Volterra. Volterra earns 0.5 VP + 0.5 VP for 3+ teaching posts.
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode

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