the Rift


[JUDGED] Their gnashing teeth and criminal tongues [Erebos vs. Weaver]

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#1
EREBOS
Strength and diligence, fortitude and might - a ceremonial plunge of words and phrases that haunted his sleep – because in them he saw his father’s figure, a ghostly slate of power and domination, and it was all he yearned for his herd to be again. It echoed through him now as he searched out for his newest opponent, drowned himself in the wake of the incoming onslaught. He wanted their hearts painted blaze rage red, he wanted their souls etched for abominations and abhorrence, and he wanted them to feast on their enemies, know, understand, and comprehend the feeling of triumph.
 
Most of them didn’t know the stories of the Basin. Most of them didn’t know the history, the faltering steps, the refugee days, the essence of loss and the feeling of the unknown. He’d only heard them too, in his mother’s songs and laurels, in his sire’s impassive features, but didn’t want to relive the notion of defeat, of collapse. Initially, their foundering had formed the Basin’s perseverance, their overwhelming need to conquer and avenge; and nowadays, there was naught holding them back but listlessness, laziness, and complacency.
 
But not them, not his soldiers, not his troops, not his comrades - he’d make sure of it.
 
They would dominate and reign supreme. They would climb the tallest towers. They would march on the highest peaks. They would choke and stab, mutilate and devour, protect and scald. They’d be the lifeblood of the mountain air. They’d be the mercenaries, eager and ready for their missions.
 
So he sought out another, deep in the denizens of the Basin’s valley, where the clouds poured droplets of cascading rain and he smiled in its watery abyss, at home with the tempest, at home with the storm, a pervading piece of the temple himself – born and bred to fight for its empire. “Weaver!” He shouted out in the rain, narrowing his eyes to look upon her painted edges and winged abilities, pondering how far she’d go, what she knew, and what experiences were nestled and tucked between her plumes. “Let’s go!” It was a hastened outcry for violence and vigilance, a skirmish, a practice, a plea, and his companion wisely said naught, irked and irritated by being caught out in the showers, settling by his hooves.
 
Do you trust me today? Erebos thought to ask her, but instead sketched it across his Cheshire grin; wondered if she could read his inquiry there, or ignore it altogether the way he should’ve at her lashings.

[419 words. 0/3. Erebos vs. Weaver Teaching Spar.
Surroundings: In the heart of the Aurora Basin, mid-day. Mild rain, some puddles and mud nearby.
Weaver may have first move!]

Image Credit


Teaching Notes:
 
Whee! Thank you for doing this with me, Kyra!
 
Now, things to think about before we begin:
 
- You mentioned to me prior about your inexperience with the dice rolls/calculations, and I’ll tell you, it takes some time to settle into it. I’ll be along to help you. ;D For now, I want you to take a look and compare Erebos’ stats and Weaver’s, because they’re going to be what sets attacks, defenses, movements, and damages apart.
 
First, let’s look at the main portion, which is used for dice rolls:
Erebos
Attack: 7.5
Defense: 11
Damage: 6
HP: 74.5
 
Weaver
Attack: 7
Defense: 10
Damage: 3
HP: 61
 
We don’t have a huge difference in attack or defense power, which is nice to see. What’s going to hurt is the lower HP on Weaver’s end and the minimal damage stat. You’re going to want to continue sparring (and earning VP), to get that damage stat increased. HP will be increased as you spar and earn VP as well (and as your companion ages, as you gain offensive/defensive items, as you get magic, etc.)
 
Then, let’s take a look at their other stats, which should affect movements, attacks, endurance, etc. throughout our spar posts:
 
Erebos
Strength: 6
Speed: 5
Agility: 6
Endurance: 7
 
Weaver
Strength: 2
Speed: 4
Agility: 4
Endurance: 10
 
They’re not terribly far apart – but take these stats into consideration when you’re using attacks. Weaver can take a lot more hits than Erebos due to her endurance stat (look at that beautiful 10!), but Erebos is stronger, a little faster, and has a little more agility. These can be increased in time and VP too. :D
 
It’ll be easier to understand how to use these and how they factor in when we finally get sparring. :D
 
- Remember to use motivations, emotions, and the surroundings in your posts too. Incorporate them into her movements and feelings. How does she feel about sparring? Does she have any prior experiences fighting? Use these throughout your posts. :D
- When making attacks, if you can use directions (like aiming for Erebos’ left shoulder) that would be fabulous.
 
Happy sparring!

@Weaver

Weaver Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Corporal atk: 8.0 | def: 10.0 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Hybrid :: 15.1 :: 3 years HP: 61 | Buff: Novice
Raven :: Australian Raven :: Terrorize Kyra
#2
Her name rings out in the gloom of the rainy, disgusting day. Of course,. He would pick today, when the ground is slick and slippery and wont to send her feet stumbling. But his feet are as likely to slip out from beneath him, if not more so. She has the added benefit of wings. Even without wings though, she would be here, eager and ready and wet. It has been so long since she’s fought, and for once, someone was going to teach her. She faced the four horsemen of the apocalypse as a child, but she got by on sheer luck. She wanted more than luck on her side.

She faces him, far enough away that his form blurs in the rain. She saunters forward until her view of him begins to clear. He wears a smile so like her mother’s, so like her own. A smile her brother never would have worn. But otherwise, in the haze of the rain, he could be her brother but for the horn on his forehead. Honorable, dedicated, proud.

Do you fight with honor as well? she wants to ask, but doesn’t, wasting no breath. She gives him a pointed look instead. So many unspoken words between one conniving and one honest warrior. What words could convince him that she trusts him? She would not follow him if she didn’t; would not stand here today with her life in his hands (though she has lives to spare). She does not know how to say it because she did not grow up in a world where trust existed.

All she can do is try to prove it.

He is stronger, faster, and more agile than she. There’s little Weaver has at her disposal against him. Only stubborn determination, the ability to take a hit, the fearlessness her resurrection grants her.

Raven circles above, his eyes keener than hers. Though they cannot share words and images yet, he can still offer some aid from above.  Particularly since he finally decided to grow up and fly, since he didn’t want to be sitting in her horns as she got pummeled. But whatever, she doesn’t care why he's finally flying. Only that he is.

She takes only a moment to give him that pointed look, taking stock of the situation. The ground is slick and puddled, but not so muddy that her feet will stay stuck to the earth. Orsino sits by Erebos' hooves, and Raven keeps an eye on the other companion.

Like everything she does, she throws herself headlong into the battle. Excitement and blood pulse in her ears with the pattering of rain. It is only a spar, she knows, but she wants to prove her worth. And besides, she's been fighting all her life. It feels like home.

Her legs move into a canter, wings spread slightly to keep her feet steady on the wet ground. The drag from her wings slows her, but she hopes the ground will slow him in return. She aims head on, risking his horn, turning course to her right when she’s hopefully just out of his horn’s reach.

As she turns, she folds her wings back, digging her feet into the earth for balance. She angles her hind end toward where she thinks his left side to be. Then she digs her front feet into the ground and kicks. His entire left side is a big target. The goal is only to hit something. Ribs, shoulder, rump; she doesn’t care what. She just wants to give him a solid bruise before he retaliates, because she needs him to have taken some damage already. Needs him to be weaker. Needs to give herself some slight advantage. Likely, this is not a fight she can win, but she can damn well make it hard for him.

---
Attack: 1/3 – Words: 639
Summary: Canters straight toward Erebos, turns her course to her right at the last minute to aim a kick with her hind legs toward his left side.

- weaver -

Image


Thank you for teaching me! Please feel free to be brutal, I don't mind :)

Please tag in all posts
Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
Image by AmoretteRose

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#3
EREBOS
Perhaps he placed too much on trust and convictions. Perhaps he wanted too many things all at once, and asking, yearning, pleading for confidence, reliance, and assurance in his capabilities, that he could protect them, guide them, teach them, restore them, was overwhelming. Perhaps it was just the way some things were – the Basin forever harbored the chilling harpooners, more eager to fight amongst themselves than an enemy. History repeated itself through its cold, glacial generations.
 
But he aspired for them to be different, an alteration from the past, a chiming echo in chronicles of failed conquests. They could be more than a collection of assembled warriors. They could be more than wicked, conniving souls. They could be the protection, the brutality, the swords in a legion of might and power, dominance over each and every land, an empire to be feared again.
 
You’re still wounded too easily, was Orsino’s response through the gloom and haze, a sharpened glare sent to the boy, blunt poignancy. How was the kitsune supposed to harden a youth who’d already seen so much, who’d already met death, who’d already faltered and stumbled and crumbled his way into the ground?
 
Because I care? the prince offered, staring into the mist, watching as Weaver approached. He’d been born from a nonchalant King and a loving scholar, and maybe all the compassion his sire rarely showed was now embedded in Erebos’ heart, overwhelming when the rest of the world never bothered. The fox didn’t say anything else.
 
The skirmish loomed, silent, intoxicating. Even in the cascading rain, he sensed Weaver’s inquiry, her questions, her deliberations, and all he did in return was watch, wait, and grin. He’d forbear the world for them, and they didn’t know, wouldn’t be able to see until his soul was splintered and shattered on the rocks: ready for the pain, the anguish, and the torment.
 
Erebos would’ve enjoyed conversing with her, he mused as his muscles kindled, as his brain schemed, as his body became fervent for the impending skirmish. He would’ve liked to have gestured to her wings and spoke of his admiration for them, asked her about flying and what it was like to see the world.
 
But the rain fell into his eyes, and Orsino was muttering something about idiots, and as he tried to shake the droplets from his sight she approached alongside his left, all force and tenacity. He attempted an abrupt shift to the right, aiming to be quicker, faster, and lighter, pressing the agility his mother had granted him into the muck and mire, but it wasn’t enough.
 
Her kick landed directly on his left haunch, searing and scorching for a brief moment, as if fire licked and seared across his flesh, a bruising, smarting demolition – and he gritted his teeth, offered no response except for the glint of his raised lips and a snort of irritation, bearing it all so a student could become a master.
 
Swiftly, because his front end hadn’t received a potent punch, he tried to swivel back towards the left, intending to brandish a snag, a snare, a bite of his teeth along her hind (perhaps on her croup or her dock, using height to his advantage). It’d been on pure instinct, a driving force coiled within his mind, from days spent on the unfreezing lake, striking at imaginary monsters and intangible enemies. Orsino uttered naught, staring out into the misty, foggy void, wondering about the nature of valor.

[1/3. 579 words.
* Erebos tries to get out of Weaver’s way by shifting to the right, but he’s still not fast enough, and gets a nice bruise along his left haunch.
* In retaliation, he swings back to the left, and tries to bite down along Weaver’s hind end, aiming for her croup or dock.]

Image Credit


Teaching Notes:
 
What Went Well:
 
* Opponent Characteristics: I enjoyed this little bit: He is stronger, faster, and more agile than she. There’s little Weaver has at her disposal against him. Only stubborn determination, the ability to take a hit, the fearlessness her resurrection grants her. because it tied in their characteristics neatly, and you can use these later on in your following posts when they start to tire, start to ache, etc.
 
* Surroundings: I thought you touched upon the grounds/weather very nicely here: He would pick today, when the ground is slick and slippery and wont to send her feet stumbling. But his feet are as likely to slip out from beneath him, if not more so. She has the added benefit of wings. Even without wings though, she would be here, eager and ready and wet. It’s a nice way to start the spar, because you can build off of these descriptions and possibilities, use them to your advantage or when Weaver is attacked (she could slip, she could fall, etc.).
 
* Emotions: We get a little touch of Weaver here and there, and I liked the directness and poignancy of your lines, like: It has been so long since she’s fought, and for once, someone was going to teach her. She faced the four horsemen of the apocalypse as a child, but she got by on sheer luck. She wanted more than luck on her side. We get a part of her history, her motivations, and where she’s coming from.
 
Do you fight with honor as well? she wants to ask, but doesn’t, wasting no breath. She gives him a pointed look instead. So many unspoken words between one conniving and one honest warrior. What words could convince him that she trusts him? She would not follow him if she didn’t; would not stand here today with her life in his hands (though she has lives to spare). She does not know how to say it because she did not grow up in a world where trust existed.
 
All she can do is try to prove it.
- I really liked these lines, because it focused heavily on what they’ve said to each other before (ah, bear patrol threads), and it’s interesting that both of them have something to prove – likely something they’ve already granted and given to each other but they’re kinda too numb to actually voice it. ;D
 
It is only a spar, she knows, but she wants to prove her worth. And besides, she's been fighting all her life. It feels like home. - Aw yeah. It feels like home.
 
* Attack: Thank you for including directions! And the whole paragraph was great, because more of her personality came out, the why she’s doing it, how she’s doing it, etc. ( Needs him to be weaker. Needs to give herself some slight advantage. Likely, this is not a fight she can win, but she can damn well make it hard for him.)
 
To Work On:
 
* Proofreading: I caught some pieces here and there, so make sure to take your time, read things out loud, come back to your post after an hour or so, because then your eyes will have had time to adjust, will notice glaring things a little bit quicker, and your ears (when you read out loud), may catch some things your eyes did not.
 
Of course,. - What is this comma/period doing here? XD Pick one!
 
Ribs, shoulder, rump; she doesn’t care what. - When I ran your post through a Word document, it didn’t like your semicolon. XD Perhaps you could try: Ribs, shoulder, rump, she doesn’t care what.
 
You had a couple of fragments here and there, but I didn’t post them in here because I considered a stylistic choice on your part (and I liked ‘em. ;D).
 
 
To Think About:
 
* Will Raven involve himself in the fight? He’s young, but will he resist the pull? XD
 
* Damage Taking: Depending on the dice roll, this portion can be implemented in a variety of ways. She could take his attack, but she could also stumble/trip in the mud, etc. Don’t feel like you have to take a full hit (unless it’s like, a crit hit and pray to the dice gods that doesn’t happen) based on one attack, you can do a number of things. :D

There's a sliding scale of damage taking, from 1 - 6. 1 would be something very minimal, like losing bits of hair from a bite, while a 6 would be detrimental, a giant, gaping laceration, a fracture of a bone, etc. A 3, in the middle, could be a laceration, a bruise that affects movement, and then you can go from there (2 being slightly less than a 3 but more than a 1, etc.). 
 
* Keep using those motivations/surroundings/emotions throughout your posts to support realism! :D

@Weaver

Weaver Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Corporal atk: 8.0 | def: 10.0 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Hybrid :: 15.1 :: 3 years HP: 61 | Buff: Novice
Raven :: Australian Raven :: Terrorize Kyra
#4
She places a lot of stock in her own abilities, but only as they relate to herself. It benefits her to serve the Basin. Deep down she's even starting to like the place, but she wouldn’t stay without a reason behind the staying.  Her mother had served the Chamber out of sheer love for the land, had craved power for her kingdom. Weaver craves power for herself; power in her own body, her own magic, and her own life.

The Basin is a vehicle. One she wants to help. It does not benefit her for the Basin to be weak, for the residents to fight amongst one another. She doesn’t care if it becomes powerful under the rule of another, so long as it becomes powerful. She wants to wield the name of the Basin as a weapon. Wants the name to make others weak in the knees.

If only her and Erebos knew that they fight today, in the muck and mire, for the same end. Would it matter then that their reasons and methods differed? Or could they use those differences to help one another? He could soften her, and she could harden him.

Her feet hit flesh, and she can’t help the Cheshire grin, pleased to have hit him and hoping it hurt. Not too much, it is a spar after all. But enough pain to make a difference. She needs whatever advantage she can get. And if she’s being honest, there’s something wonderful and thrilling about the fight. About the bruises and the pain and the adrenaline that courses through her veins.

She wants to turn and look, wants to see where he is. That’s the problem with the position she’s picked. She has some sense of him, but not enough. All she can do in this stupid mud is try to get herself out of his range without sending herself sprawling. But she’s not fast enough, which doesn’t surprise her, because he’s faster than she. His teeth come down on her croup, scraping skin, though the damage feels minimal. A small bruise, at worst. It doesn’t hurt as she keeps running.

Her feet begin to slip as she tries to look back at Erebos, to gauge his position. It's a damn shame Raven can’t talk yet, can’t be a full set of eyes. But he doesn’t scream a warning at her either as she unfurls her wings. Screw this ground and the Basin’s old prejudice. Oh, if only she knew Erebos’ thoughts on her wings. That he would ask what flying felt like, would admire her wings instead of loathe them. It might, almost, break her heart. Whatever heart she has, anyway.

Someday, they should talk. If only words were as easy as the fight.

She flaps her wings, the rain not heavy enough to deter her from flying. When her feet leave the mud, she turns to look for him. “Don’t take it easy on me cause I’m a girl, General.” She grins, her amber eyes wild and alive and mischievous. She hopes that he knows she’s teasing. Goading. Playing. That it’s nothing more than friendly banter. That she got damn lucky his attack didn’t hurt more. That she got damn lucky her attack did.

It's a little strange to care what someone thinks. But she does.

She doesn’t climb high into the air, because what good does that do her? He could see her coming, and it’s not like he could follow, so she has no element of surprise. No, she just hopes that she can fly in the rain faster than he can run in the mud. When she thinks she’s positioned behind and above him, facing his rump, she folds her wings and dives.

Using the momentum of her dive for extra power, she kicks her front legs, aiming for his back, though any hit would do. She's not that picky. She spreads her wings at the last minute, trying to avoid a complete crash.

When all is said and done, she lands somewhere in front of him (she thinks, but he could have moved or attacked), because it’s really not a fun fight if he can’t reach her. It’s also unfair, but when does she care about fair? It’s only the fun that matters.

Attack: 2/3 – Words: 716
Summary:
- Erebos' bite leaves a small bruise on her croup
- Weaver flies away, turning in air to try and face his rear. She dives toward him, kicking with her front hooves and aiming for his back

- weaver -

Image

Please tag in all posts
Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
Image by AmoretteRose

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#5
EREBOS
He knew he wasn’t supposed to wonder, wasn’t supposed to drift away from the battle, from the arts of machinations and swordplay, but the youth couldn’t stop his mind from whirling, from pondering, from bypassing the siege. Curiosity was a weighty thing, coiling distinctly over the roughened edges and corners of his membrane, like a web, like a vice, conspiring only to corrupt and condemn the channeling of his muscles, the fire and brimstone of his desires.
 
He wanted to know if she, if all his soldiers, felt him inept, felt him foolish, felt him a poor example of a military commander – if everything he ever did was all for nothing, if she could see how stupid, how ineffectual, how absolutely disastrous he truly was.
 
It distracted him in the midst of showers and droplets, no matter how much Orsino spit, hissed, and howled along their twisted, gnarled, knotted bond, because he wanted to be so much more than what he’d already become. He aspired to greatness, to grandeur, to lofty, brilliant heights, where the Basin would reign and dominate all over again. He wished for them to topple towers, bludgeon enemies, destroy opponents, obliterate, obliterate, and obliterate until the icy columns and glacial chambers were something to be feared once more.
 
Erebos bore the pain, the anguish, the torment just beginning its winding assault, for them. Maybe they did the same. But he feared they’d eventually look upon him in utter disgrace, see his worthless follies, his hopeless ambitions, shake their heads, and leave him for naught on the cold, hard floor. So many had fled, and he’d never asked, never pleaded, never begged for them to stay, but he poured it out of his soul now, as he clambered about in the mud, as he seared and seethed, as he dreamed and grasped. His teeth had barely grazed her, but her assaults affected him far greater, far deeper, than he longed to admit.
 
Her words were just echoes across his ears, and in the thick of his thoughts, he gave her nothing in response. Orsino’s tenacious clutching was finally enough to reignite him (something about fools, and then in sky), so that when he twisted his head to glance along the clouds, he found her above him, using those wings and feathers he’d admired so much to attempt a brutal annihilation of his bones, of his figure, of his valorous efforts.
 
The scion hastened forward, as much as his aching, left haunch dared permit, but in the end, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. The ground was too soft, the world was too slick, and no matter how far he stretched, she’d still have the advantage.
 
He didn’t give in even as her hooves crashed into his hind end, sending him reeling, viciously bruised, barbed, trying to smother a sharp outcry (to no avail, he could hear it drum through his vocal chords, harsh and fast) as he stumbled forward. The General dug into the earth, shifting so he didn’t flounder face first into the dampened terrain, so his eyes couldn’t look into hers, so the shame mottling their surface didn’t reflect back into the rain.
 
The prince only glanced up when he heard her land, gaze hardened now, illustrious and brutal, striving to reach deep down into that stupid, noxious part of his soul, yearning to bring out the warrior from within (not the boy, not the lad, but the General, hardened from his years immorality and recklessness). He reached forward again (but so much slower, his strides lessened by the stroke of assaults, pouring through his mind with throbbing aches), striving for her right side, offering nothing but the glint of his sword, inclining his skull towards her right haunch – hoping, somehow, someway, he wouldn’t always be the jester, the dunce.

[2/3. 635 words.
* Erebos attempts to get out of Weaver’s flight path by running forward, but due to his previous injuries and the ground, he’s far too slow and gets a nasty bruise along his hind for his troubles. He stumbles forward, but rights himself.
* When Weaver lands, Erebos tries to reach her right side and cut along her right haunch with his horn.]

Image Credit


Teaching Notes:
 
What Went Well:
 
* Emotions: I’m still loving getting those little touches of Weaver here and there. She’s a complex gal, and it’s interesting/intriguing to see how she responds to the flow of battle, or her motivations for fighting: She places a lot of stock in her own abilities, but only as they relate to herself. It benefits her to serve the Basin. Deep down she's even starting to like the place, but she wouldn’t stay without a reason behind the staying. and The Basin is a vehicle. One she wants to help. It does not benefit her for the Basin to be weak, for the residents to fight amongst one another. She doesn’t care if it becomes powerful under the rule of another, so long as it becomes powerful. She wants to wield the name of the Basin as a weapon. Wants the name to make others weak in the knees. offer your reader/judges some insight into why she does what she does, and I like it.
 
I even enjoyed this particular passage, which makes me want to kinda kick the both of them in the head (you’re right, we’ll definitely have to thread them outside of danger and stupidity sometime ;D): If only her and Erebos knew that they fight today, in the muck and mire, for the same end. Would it matter then that their reasons and methods differed? Or could they use those differences to help one another? He could soften her, and she could harden him.
 
* Species Advantages: I thought it was clever to use her wings – hey, why not? She’s got them! It was a realistic approach to anyone in battle – you want to use your abilities to help you, so attacking from the sky, where he really can’t reach her, was a fair method and mode to attack. Be sure to continue including advantages/disadvantages throughout the fight too – especially when attacks actually begin to accumulate and both characters might be hindered, slowed, etc.
 
* Attack: Again, smart of you. I thought it was simple and clear enough to understand, which is exactly what we want for both judges and roleplayers. We don’t want people confused or muddled about what we’re trying to do! ;D You were also careful to include attempting and trying as key words, allowing my reply/response to be of my own choosing, and not godmoding/powerplaying.
 
* Damage Taking: Since I rolled the ever lovely 1, you lucked out! ;D His teeth come down on her croup, scraping skin, though the damage feels minimal. A small bruise, at worst. It doesn’t hurt as she keeps running. is a fair response to the minimal damage, and truly shouldn’t hinder her much.
 
 
To Work On:
 
I really didn’t see anything glaring, worrisome/bothersome. I thought it was a well-written post, hit key portions, and displayed Weaver’s intentions. I would advise to continue proofreading/going back over your posts, just to get rid of any potential issues (there were fragments, but again, stylistically, they worked).
 
To Think About:
 
* Damage Taking/Realism: In case Erebos does actually land a significant roll, be sure to include it throughout movements/attacks/defenses, and how it affects them. Erebos has now taken a 3 and a 4, which has slowed him down – you want it to make sense with where her injuries might be located. And hey, maybe you’ll get lucky again and it’ll be nothing to worry about! XD

@Weaver

Weaver Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Corporal atk: 8.0 | def: 10.0 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Hybrid :: 15.1 :: 3 years HP: 61 | Buff: Novice
Raven :: Australian Raven :: Terrorize Kyra
#6
She would smack him upside the head for his ridiculous thoughts if she could hear them. There’s a trick to making others think you are everything you aren’t. Act like it. That’s it. That's the whole trick. Walk in like you own the place and people will assume you own the place. They don’t ask. It’s a magic trick that doesn’t require any actual magic. You don’t need to fend off stupid fire cheetahs, or beg the Gods, or strike a bargain with Kaos for this particular skill. You just fucking decide you own the place.

Because really, look at her. What place does Weaver have on the battlefield? She is small and delicate and built for running around, not for trying to pummel someone into the dirt. But she does it anyway. And does anyone doubt that she belongs on a battlefield? Nope. At least, not that they’ve had the balls to say to her face. Because she acts like she belongs here. She’s reckless and vicious and throws herself into a fight so completely that no one second-guesses her. How could they? If you second-guess yourself, you are shit out of luck.

Erebos cares. Even she knows this without the ability to read minds. She’s seen the way he bristled and broke when she asked if she should trust him in that moment. He cares. And that caring goes one of two ways. Either it makes you stronger, or it shatters you. She would tell him to wear all his cares on his sleeve, to turn caring and worry into pride and determination. To wave it around like a flag everywhere he went. To scream to the Heavens that the Basin will be something, that his army will be unstoppable. And then, do you know what happens?

Magic.

She already follows him for her own reasons, but then, she might follow him for his. Attitude is infectious. If he told her his dreams, he might find that she wants to be a part of this glorious ideal he’s created. Worry doesn’t get you shit. But determination does. Determination is how she lands any blow. It's how her feet manage to find Erebos' hind end, leaving what she hopes in a nice bruise on that pretty ass. There are other things she’d love to do to that ass, but ah, he's hardly the type. They are so different, but not in the ways that matter. They both fight to prove themselves, to strengthen their herd.  

She thrills at the hit as she always does, feeling alive and powerful despite the fact she is neither. She has died twice, and should not walk among the living as she does. She is not powerful either, in comparison to others. But would you doubt either of those two things about her? That she is alive and powerful, that she is something to remember? No, because she doesn’t let you doubt it.

She doesn’t think as he charges her side, but reacts on instinct. She moves forward, her feet worthless and slow in the mud. Why did she land again? Oh right, so he could actually reach her. But the mud sucks at her hooves and she can’t escape his attack, that blue sword slicing across her right haunch as she moves away. It feels like a surface wound, annoying but it doesn’t slow her down (unlike the damn mud). A slew of innuendoes come to mind, but she keeps her mouth shut. He's not that type, and besides, she should focus on the fight. Just because she’s gotten lucky and only has a few scrapes doesn’t mean the rest of the battle will go that way. They are not done, and she’s hardly proved herself at all. Luck doesn’t last.

She turns to her right, letting her back legs skid through the mud. She tries to use the skid to her advantage for a little extra speed, because he's faster than her, and she needs the help. It’s a gamble, because she could end up sprawled in the mud instead, but everything Weaver does is a gamble. Life is a risk, and the odds are usually worth playing. She scrambles to get her legs beneath her as she starts to move forward, aiming for Erebos' right side. At the last minute, she ducks her head, aiming all seven of her horns for his ribs on his right side. Might as well use his own attack against him. Maybe Lady Luck is still on her side.

Attack: 3/3 – Words: 753
Summary:
- Erebos horn leaves a small cut on her right haunch
- Weaver turns to her right, aiming her horns for Erebos ribs on his right side

- weaver -

Image


@Erebos

Please tag in all posts
Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
Image by AmoretteRose

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#7
EREBOS
The tip of his horn merely glanced off of her hide, didn’t run rampant, didn’t seethe, and didn’t split apart her flesh. It was almost nothing, a paltry, trifle, minor cast of power, barely worth noting in the parting of ways, in the flash of falling drops – just like him - inferior, inadequate, and deficient.
 
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He’d thought of so many other ways it would’ve gone, trading blow for blow, savagery for savagery, but he couldn’t unwind a single potent tactic. He slipped. He stumbled. He fumbled. He trudged on and on and on, grimacing in pain, in aches, because determination carried him forwards, seared across his skull, and scorched his soul. Again, he thought. I’ll just try again. 
 
However, then she came at his right side, and he attempted to lean towards the left, but the mud was too soft beneath his feet, made it difficult to push off the ground, to maintain any semblance of escape. Each one of her horns rampaged, became piercing, keen needles, grazing across his ribs, peeling back portions of hide, leaving rivulets and lacerations in their wake. The longest one did the most damage, puncturing down his side until the edge of his barrel, as if she’d written a lengthy opus to his stupidity, sanctioned it with her bloody signature.
 
The pain ran into all the other agonies, and they were bright, vivid, screeching howls pulsing through his core. Each one offered a blunt tune, a belligerent cacophony, until they were all discordant slides of misery: you’re a failure his bruised haunches claimed as he hung his head, as he took a breath, as he tried to dig into the muck and mire. You’re pathetic, one of his cuts spouted as he turned his head to glance at her, seeing through the shards of water pouring down upon them, all hazy and gray.
 
Eventually, the gnawing notions seemed to combine forces with Orsino’s hisses and snarls, and together they were wicked and wild, feral and ferocious. He ground his teeth together, clenched his jaw tightly, and maneuvered towards her – stitched, sewn, with tales of fortitude forged in his veins. It was all he had left.
 
I’ll show you, the mighty prince began, mind roaming past the edges of torment. He’d done too little too late – had played it safe, had kept it neat, clean, and tidy – offered honor instead of abhorrence. The damage had been done in his lapse, in those moments of virtue, goodness, and decency. He knew he couldn’t shove against her, his body hurt too much to justify much of an impact. The mud and injuries had stolen away his speed. Any little advantage he’d orchestrated at the beginning had been bludgeoned and swept into the rainstorm, gone until he’d healed and rested. But there was no opportunity for that now.
 
There was just the boy, the General, in the hallowed hollows of his own machinations. So, he opted to burn.
 
Watch me, he nearly spoke, he almost roared, one last surge into annihilation. He didn’t want to fail. He didn’t want to falter. He didn’t want this image, his broken, languished form, to be the picture of the Basin General – all talk, all vigor, all fiasco and catastrophe. The fires of his invocations funneled within his veins, luminous and twisted, a vigilant course of violence; pushing past all the sensibilities, all the valor, all the courageous whims holding them in place, until he felt them graze and settle along his skin. There they waited as he reached for her right flank, as he tried to extend his ivories in a massive bite, as he attempted to emblazon her flesh in a rush of fire. All he wanted was one fiendish touch, one glorious, infernal course of brutality and ferocity. He could be devastation. He could be ruin. He could be the monster of the mountains.
 
Finally, he heard Orsino whisper, and the youth began to grin.

[664 words. 3/3.
* Erebos receives several small cuts from her horns down the right side of his ribcage, including one long laceration that starts at his ribs and goes to the end of his barrel.
* In retaliation, he attempts to use his fire magic and bite at her right flank at the same time, hoping to burn her if/when he touches her.
 
Final Injury Report:
* Severely bruised left haunch and general hind end area. XD
* Several small cuts on the right side of his ribs, with one long laceration extending from his ribs to the end of his barrel.]

Image Credit


Teaching Notes:
 
What Went Well:
 
* Emotions: Weaver still makes me laugh! She’s so dry. You’ve got her pegged down very well, even in the midst of battle, which is awesome. So many roleplayers, myself included, struggle here – depending on their character – because the situation is so strange, or because they have a difficult time balancing emotions within fights (if their character happens to be very cold, indifferent, or nonchalant). But that doesn’t seem to be a problem with you, and that’s awesome. Keep it up! Embed it into every fight post you do. Some of my favorite segments were:
 
She would smack him upside the head for his ridiculous thoughts if she could hear them. There’s a trick to making others think you are everything you aren’t. Act like it. That’s it. That's the whole trick. Walk in like you own the place and people will assume you own the place. They don’t ask. It’s a magic trick that doesn’t require any actual magic. You don’t need to fend off stupid fire cheetahs, or beg the Gods, or strike a bargain with Kaos for this particular skill. You just fucking decide you own the place. Yes, please, sempai Weaver, teach me your ways.
 
He cares. And that caring goes one of two ways. Either it makes you stronger, or it shatters you. She would tell him to wear all his cares on his sleeve, to turn caring and worry into pride and determination. To wave it around like a flag everywhere he went. To scream to the Heavens that the Basin will be something, that his army will be unstoppable. Amen, sister.
 
She thrills at the hit as she always does, feeling alive and powerful despite the fact she is neither. She has died twice, and should not walk among the living as she does. She is not powerful either, in comparison to others. But would you doubt either of those two things about her? That she is alive and powerful, that she is something to remember? No, because she doesn’t let you doubt it. Okay, I’m done fangirling this post, I swear. But all of this is what I like about Weaver. She doesn’t care what anyone thinks about her, and she’s not going to let anyone walk all over her. Rock on, girl.
 
* Attack: It was easy to understand, clear, and concise, and you incorporated the setting throughout. A+! She scrambles to get her legs beneath her as she starts to move forward, aiming for Erebos' right side. At the last minute, she ducks her head, aiming all seven of her horns for his ribs on his right side. It truly is a blessing when someone uses directions, especially ones that are feasible and aren’t suddenly all over the place, and your fellow roleplayer will thank you immensely for it. Sparring is a two-way street after all. ;D
 
* Damage Taking: You lucky ducky, another 1! I thought your response to the dice roll was the right amount, only giving another miniscule cut. It feels like a surface wound, annoying but it doesn’t slow her down (unlike the damn mud). That’s sufficient, and you didn’t go for the dramatics or try to take more damage than necessary. Good for you!
 
To Work On:
 
Again, I didn’t see anything major jumping out at me. Your grammar/proofreading was well done and orchestrated. You included your surroundings throughout your post. What on earth did you need me for? :P
 
To Think About:
 
Since this is going to be your final post, you only need to include your defense (if any, with the luck you’ve had with dice ;D). Usually I try to incorporate a final injury report (though Weaver doesn’t have much! XD), and reflect back on how the fight went, how they feel about it overall, where the aches and pains are, if they’re fatigued, etc. The judges will be looking for realism, so any pain should carry over into the last post.
 
Excellent job! You really took any notes I gave you and ran with them! I don’t think you needed me at all, but thank you for the opportunity anyway. :D

@Weaver

Weaver Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Corporal atk: 8.0 | def: 10.0 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Hybrid :: 15.1 :: 3 years HP: 61 | Buff: Novice
Raven :: Australian Raven :: Terrorize Kyra
#8
She is almost disappointed by Lady Luck’s kindness through this battle. Almost, mind you. She enjoys that her attacks hit, not because she wants to harm her General, but because she wants to leave this battle having proven she is worth something. That tiny little Weaver isn’t a waste of time, that she has a place in the Basin’s army. Because she’s built more like a sneak, thinks more like a sneak, but stealing is far from the same as fighting. One feels like a child’s game (hard, but still a game). The other feels like living.

But she is, in a strange way, disappointed that she’s managed to escape his attacks. It feels wrong. How can she prove anything if she’s fighting a battered and bruised opponent when she’s nearly fresh as a daisy? Sure, the mud sucks at her energy, but she had more endurance than him to start with, and he’s fighting the mud too. On that, they are even. To  prove herself, she needs to bleed as well. She needs to show him she can fight through the pain, that she won’t give up when the going gets tough. It’s beautiful to escape harm, but it’s not how most fights go.

Her horns scrape against his flesh, tearing it apart. His blood tips her horns in crimson, though the rain is quick to wash it away. It is satisfying, as it is always satisfying, to land a blow. The cut from her tallest horn is long and beautiful. But it’s beginning to feel like a hollow victory. Unfair. Don’t get her wrong, she’s not against playing unfairly, but that hadn’t been her intention today. Well, not unless she had been getting her ass handed to her.

He’s the one with lacerations in his side and bruises on his rump and he’s still fighting. He’s not a failure. He is anything but a failure. And if she knew his thoughts now she’d fly about and try very hard to kick some sense into his head. Literally. Because he’s hurting and sluggish and she is not, but it doesn’t stop him. He’s the one proving himself right now. He is a General, he is a warrior, and she doesn’t doubt it.

He comes at her again, teeth barred toward her right flank. She’s already moving forward so she does her best to speed up despite the mud. At this point, she’s hoping his injuries have slowed him enough she can outrun him. The gamble almost pays off. His teeth come down along her tail instead, grazing her rump. The pain is instantaneous, a burning fire she didn’t know he possessed. But most of his bite gets her tail, and worse than the pain is the smell of burning hair. Her tail sizzles, the hair dying beneath whatever magic he wields.

A hiss of annoyance escapes through closed teeth. “I like my tail,” she growls, wanting to turn and attack him for the sheer fact he burnt away her tail. That would be the injury she’d have Mortuus fix. Not cuts or bruises, but her burnt tail. It makes her vain, but she doesn’t care, she is very fond of her wild beauty. And now she’s just charred.

But she’s got to hand it to him, that is an impressive bit of magic. The edge of her right butt cheek burns. It’s the worst hit she’s taken, but still, not very much. It doesn’t slow her down. No, she chooses to slow, turning to try and face her General, nodding to him in respect. Perhaps Lady Luck had helped her escape his attacks, but that didn’t make her the better fighter. It made her lucky. And she wasn’t trying to be lucky. She was trying to be impressive, to be worth something, to be fearsome. This was a start, but it was nothing more than a start. She could do better. She could get pummeled and sliced as he did and keep going.

The cuts sting in the rain, her rump still feels like it’s on fire, but as a whole, she is unscathed. Just tired, but she should be tired. Yet despite being largely clear of wounds, she feels like she’s the one who lost. It was not enough. She is not enough. But she will be.

***
720 Words
Summary:
- Erebos bites her rump/tail, burning the edge of her right rump but largely burning her tail

Final Injury Report:
- Small bruise on croup
- Small cut on right haunch, slightly burned right rump, burnt tail

- weaver -

Image

Please tag in all posts
Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
Image by AmoretteRose

Official Posts: 847
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Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#9
By my verdict: EREBOS is the winner!

WEAVER
Realism [+3]

You touched on their breed differences, and did really well consistently mentioning the surroundings and their effect on her. I liked how she spread her wings to help balance herself, as this was a good way for her to use her assets and also incorporate the surroundings. I liked her taking off in your second post and remarking on how she can fly faster than Erebos can run in the slippy conditions.

Your attacks were clear and concise, although I'd have liked to see her be more specific with her first one on where exactly she's aiming for instead of just his whole left side.

You did well taking damage throughout. Given that Erebos rolled three 1s, you were right to only take minimal amounts of damage and not have it hinder you in any way.

P2: 'When she thinks she’s positioned behind and above him' - I was torn on this, however it does read a bit like a PP due to not having a mention of 'aimed' or 'attempted' etc. The 'she thinks' is probably intended to be taken the same way, but would have been better with aimed etc.

P2: 'When all is said and done, she lands somewhere in front of him' - Be careful with this, as it can be classed as overmoving as well as GM/PP. It's assuming that Erebos didn't attack you whilst you were in the air, which is unrealistic as in the time it would have taken her to attack him and then land, he could have tried to bite or kick her.

Emotion [+1]

In your first post I didn't really feel much of Weaver, and couldn't really get a grasp for her motivations or thoughts. Her comparison of Erebos to her brother was interesting and left me wanting more, which unfortunately didn't come. I enjoyed her mention of the battlefield feeling like home, but again, I wanted to see more. Your second and third posts were much improved in this aspect which brought the score up, with your third post being your strongest I felt.

P2: 'The Basin is a vehicle. One she wants to help. It does not benefit her for the Basin to be weak, for the residents to fight amongst one another. She doesn’t care if it becomes powerful under the rule of another, so long as it becomes powerful. She wants to wield the name of the Basin as a weapon. Wants the name to make others weak in the knees. ' - Love this!

P3: 'Walk in like you own the place and people will assume you own the place. They don’t ask. It’s a magic trick that doesn’t require any actual magic. You don’t need to fend off stupid fire cheetahs, or beg the Gods, or strike a bargain with Kaos for this particular skill. You just fucking decide you own the place.' - And this!

Prose [+2]

Your posts all flowed well, so no issues here. For the most part though your writing was consistently good, with a nice variety of language used.

Readability [+1.5]

Overall your posts were fairly easy to read, with only a couple of minor typos that didn't really detract from the overall quality. I did notice though that you had a lot of short, snappy sentences. These are great to draw emphasis to certain things and to make a point, however there were so many of them that it made your writing a bit jarring and broken up. You also started a lot of sentences with words like 'but', and 'and', which is grammatically incorrect even though I'm fairly lenient on it as long as it's done for the benefit of the overall writing or to draw attention to that sentence. This was sometimes the case, but often I felt you could have used a different word in the same way.

P1: 'Of course,. He' - A comma and a full stop used here when there should only be one, and 'he' shouldn't be capitalised as it's part of the sentence

Finally tally: 40+(7.5*2)= 55 HP

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

EREBOS
Realism [+3]

You mentioned the rain getting into his eyes, but didn't really mention the surroundings much apart from that until your very last post when it contributes to him getting hit by her. You touched on his superior agility and height in your response to her first attack, but other than this you didn't really mention their breed differences or use them to your advantage. Having read a couple of your fights in the past, you do usually mention this so I was disappointed to not see it here.

Erebos took a few big hits in this fight and mostly around his hind end, and you did well mentioning these and having them affect him. His attacks were all clear and concise, so as I said the biggest disappointment was the lack of breed and surroundings mention!

Emotion [+2]

I got a good feel of Erebos throughout, and could definitely understand his motivations and reasons behind fighting. Your second post was your strongest, with so many amazing insights into his personality that I had to refrain from listing every single one of them here. His feelings of inadequacy came across really well, making me want to jump through the page and give him a big hug.

P2: 'He wanted to know if she, if all his soldiers, felt him inept, felt him foolish, felt him a poor example of a military commander – if everything he ever did was all for nothing, if she could see how stupid, how ineffectual, how absolutely disastrous he truly was.' - Oh, Erebos, my feels! :(

P2: 'He wished for them to topple towers, bludgeon enemies, destroy opponents, obliterate, obliterate, and obliterate until the icy columns and glacial chambers were something to be feared once more.' - This as well, loved it!

P3: 'All he wanted was one fiendish touch, one glorious, infernal course of brutality and ferocity. He could be devastation. He could be ruin. He could be the monster of the mountains.

Finally, he heard Orsino whisper, and the youth began to grin.' - And this!

Prose [+3]

I really enjoyed your writing in this. You're extremely poetic in the way you portray Erebos, which is lovely to read and helped give me a great insight into his mind and the way he thinks. My only minor gripe is that sometimes your wording can be a bit confusing and unnecessary, making it difficult to get to the point beneath all the poetry, but it's a decent trade-off for the beauty of the writing.

P1: 'They could be more than a collection of assembled warriors. They could be more than wicked, conniving souls. They could be the protection, the brutality, the swords in a legion of might and power, dominance over each and every land, an empire to be feared again.' - I loved this!

Readability [+2.5]

No issues here, only a small handful of typos that didn't detract from the overall flow of the post.

P1: 'You’re still wounded too easily, was Orsino’s response through the gloom and haze, a sharpened glare sent to the boy, blunt poignancy.' - This just didn't seem to flow for some reason, likely because 'blunt poignancy' at the end seems sort of tacked on. It may have been better with a word in front of it to explain why it's there, such as 'full of blunt poignancy' or 'displaying blunt poignancy'.

P2: 'hardened from his years immorality and recklessness' - Years of immorality?

Finally tally: 55.5+(10.5*2)= 76.5 HP


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