| Outcast |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 8 Buff: NOVICE |
| Tamme |
10-30-2012, 03:24 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-30-2012, 05:37 PM by Tamme.)
ARM YOURSELF
Because no one else here will save you and I will replace you
[OOC: Open spar to whomever wants to reply. This spar will be taking place in the Thistle Meadow during Frostfall. Time of day will be early morning. Snow is fresh on the ground. The river is thinly frozen on top. Magic and companions are allowed.
800 word limit, 4 posts each.
Also, this will be a teaching spar with me giving pointers/help to my opponent :)]
Rafe was trained in many arts and fighting was one of them, though he was untried and unseen in Helovia. The crimson robed stallion intended to make his prowess known, to challenge those who considered themselves to be warriors of this land. He longed for an opponent worthy of his skill as he reveled in the challenge of mortality, his entire existence hanging in the balance of a blood dance. Though a thrill seeker he was not, Rafe gained a certain perverse pleasure out of besting his opponents and an even greater pleasure from outwitting those who believed themselves to be great fighters. Watching their expressions and confidence fall as they realized their inadequacies was an experience he would never forget.
However, to have someone best him, to lose would be the greatest challenge of them all. He would have something to work toward; he would have a goal. He would be able to hone his skills to an even greater level of deadliness and become something greater than he was before. Both outcomes were positive, and Rafe could not lose.
The snow yielded easily from his massive, solid hooves, his prints the first to tarnish virgin snow. A quick jerk of his neck backward dislodged thick, ebony mane from his cold, emotionless blue eyes, and he flicked his tail in anticipation, arriving to the Thistle Meadow with his back facing the sun. The golden monster of morning swallowed the sky, bathing the land in harsh shadows and bright light, and a halo of aurate silhouetted his figure like an angel forced to the ground, sinful.
Hooves stopped, crunching icy grass and snow as he shifted his weight, testing his corded muscles with practiced ease. The stallion lowered his four horned brow in a menacing stretch, easing the nightly tension from the tissues and dislodging the roughness of sleep. Like a vile serpent, he twisted his spine from side to side and tucked his haunches, hearing a familiar snap as his joints settled behind his withers, and he grinned.
A sharp strike with his front right hoof and a sharp cry of his deep, loud voice indicated his desire for battle on this day, and he would do all within his power to emerge victorious. "If you consider yourself worthy on this day, face me..." he called, cold, apathetic and remarkably inhuman eyes darting from corner to corner of the massive field.
[OOC: (0/4) ]
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| Deceased |
| Mare :: Equine :: 15.3 :: 15 |
| Alex |
I have been seeking the delight of battle for not very long now, so needless to say, I am pleased to find the art of war so quick at hand. A stallion, calling out to all worthy opponents. If I may say so myself, I am a good opponent, although mainly these days I teach battle and obedience to my many sons who are achieving greatness in their own ways. I linger at the edge of the trees, taking in my opponent. A coat of blood, mane and tail of black, black horns, electric eyes. Not too shabby, a clear warrior from the deft movements. Second, I take in the landscape. The sun is a watery white disk, low on the horizon, although it is creeping up steadily, making to climb to the very peak of the sky. The snow is wet and soft under-foot, which is lovely compared to the frequent hard-packed ice among the Threshold.
I do not say a word as I approach, muscles rippling under silver pelt, eyes of iron keeping a steady watch on my opponent. My nameless Blood-Pelt opponent. My lips are sealed, but my intent is clear. I intend to fight. I pause, a good leap away. "Worthy opponent you have now." I say, my voice distasteful and slightly annoyed. Without further words, I attack, lunging forward towards his shoulder, hooves crunching white snow underfoot. From experience, I've learned that unicorns are formidable opponents for the talon on their heads, and I despite my attack to his flank and shoulder, I avoid his numerous horns to the very best of my abilities. White teeth bare to sink into the red flesh of his withers, hooves are ready to smash into the soft fur on the warrior's red flank.
"Something to say."
OOC:Attack
Mandrake aims for the left flank and shoulder by rearing and reaching out to bite.
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| Administrator |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
| Official |
2 weeks have passed since last response, default win to Mandrake!
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Coldest Blood [teaching spar/open]
