the Rift

Cold to the Bone

Sacre Posts: 274
World's Edge Emissary atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 5 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Inari :: Red Fox :: Heal & Ríona :: Common Kitsune :: Electric imi
... and then the sea swept in and left us all speechless

This was the first time Sacre had ever been to the Hidden Falls, the former herd land of those who followed the Earth God, now absent of any great activity. Perhaps he might've felt sadder if he had seen it as it once was, bustling with the life of a family like his own back home, but the gentle fox-boy could only go off what he was seeing now. The crashing falls he could hear in the distance and the hills that rolled out like a carpet of green, all was a feast for his dewy blue eyes as he wandered in from the west, happy to leave the Thistle Meadow behind him. The fact his mother had died there still bothered him and he would avoid it entirely if the Worlds Edge didn't sit so inconveniently close to it. Feeling his thoughts taking a downward turn, he sighed and looked for his two friends only to realise that Inari had disappeared hunting, leaving Ríona to doze peacefully under his chest. Her gentle sleepy noises lulled Sacre into a sense of calmness and he soon found himself going over the duties he still needed to complete. There were herbs to gather, of course, the great chore that never ended, yet always gave the fox-boy an excuse to be out in the wilds without feeling much guilt for leaving the misty herd land. 

There was also, niggling in the back of his mind, the matter regarding his recent spar that he hadn't really given much thought to yet.

In fact, he had been bitterly avoiding the subject as his wounds had healed, itching them with great irritation whenever they got on his nerves too much, and all this whilst trying to forget how naïve he must have appeared. He couldn't help but remember that Toulouse seemed to be almost laughing at him at the time—the way the sneak looked down on him still damped his spirits and left him clutching at what little pride he had left. Yet, more than that, the sick revulsion that had come over him when the spy's blood had dripped down his horn was far more disconcerting for Sacre. Mauja had said it was a necessary evil, something that might be needed, a skill he must learn, but how could he possibly master the warrior art if he felt ill every time he drew someone else's blood. On top of that, it made him feel guilty and it hung over him like a trembling guillotine, bringing to light his biggest obstacle on the battlefield, and yet—it was also the greatest display of his noble heart.

Sacre lingered on it some more, knowing with great chagrin that the answer to his fears must lay in the battles themselves and so he cast about, looking for one who might aid him in overcoming his anxieties.

0/3 | 477 words | standard spar

Setting: Late afternoon in the Hidden Falls, just after a brief rainstorm the ground on the surface is wet. Somewhere in the grassland that closely borders the Thistle Meadow. Overcast.

Overview: Sacre is stood in the middle of the grassland looking for a challenger.

Feel free to start the fight straight away Time! 

For @Time <3

There's something wretched about this
Something so precious about this

❚ Force permitted!
❚ Please tag me!

Archibald the Dauntless Posts: 386
Absent Abyss atk: 6.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Equine :: 18.3 hh :: 10 years HP: 80 | Buff: SHIELD
Loretta :: Alaskan Malamute :: Time Slip Time
   the dauntless

It was not the boy's fault that he had stumbled upon a grieving beast, but he would take the consequences for the unintended action.

The Dauntless stood behind the thick brush, his head low with golden eyes ablaze, a raging wildfire behind his white-masked face. His breathing was low, controlled, and even. With all years he resided in this herdland built up beneath him he still knew how to stand undetected, despite his recent stint as a vagabond among the wilds. The scents that lifted with the diminishing rain gripped his heart, icy fingers tightening around the muscle that began to burn. The tarnished entrance to his once beautiful home boiled a deep, rolling anger and hatred within the titan. There was no herd here. Isopia was nowhere to be found, his comrades gone like the storm above him. Sweat already began to gather beneath the giant's breastplate. A silent rage rolled off of him in waves, scattering small wildlife and quieting the birds. In his brooding anger, he silently watched the boy move from the edge of the great, thick forest where Archibald was waiting to the open, vulnerable grassland. Loretta lowered her body beside her bondmate, hackles standing high. Her lips peeled back to reveal stained, knife-sharp teeth looking to rip into flesh and tear it from bone. The only sound, the only preparation of the oncoming slaughter was the slight rumble of a growl from the cur's throat and the shifting of leaves to reveal the massive, war-hardened figure of the behemoth.

Once he was in sight, with legs carrying him at an impressive rate of speed for someone his size, Archibald released and earth-shattering battle cry. Loretta was quick on his heels, her amber eyes scanning for the unicorns companions, should he have them. As the pair ran toward the red-stained unicorn, their magics released in unison. Silver tendrils of magical destruction unseen to the eye reached out for the fox-boy, reaching out to grasp his mind and his body. Loretta's magic sought to bring the boy back to his childhood, to his young naive state of mind. Archibald's magic sought to hold the boy in place--for the smaller, lighter unicorn was probably faster than the burly mammoth devouring the earth to close the distance between them. Most of Archibald's opponents were quicker than him, and he automatically assumed this boy would be, but he would not be certain until he watched his movements. The differences is speed between him and his opponents was something the kingly stallion had grown accustomed to, and had also grown to defeat in the heat of every battle.

When Archibald thought the distance was closed enough, he took his first physical attack. His impressively large body turned to attempt to bring him to the other stallion's left side, his legs slowing from his canter to slide slightly on the dewy grass. Archibald did not fear the footing of this area. After all, this was not a territory the monster was unaware of. Every blade of grass, every leaf, every drop of water was as familiar to him as his own being. The Hidden Falls were his and he would forever defend them, no matter if they no longer held together a herd. This boy was trespassing in the golden eyes of the Dauntless, and even though this land belonged now to the wilds, Archibald was going to teach him never to return--as he had taught many trespassers before. Black and white lips peeled away from blunt teeth as Archibald's neck arched and then shot his head forward. Like a cobra striking a mouse, Archibald attempted to place a bite on Sacre's withers. There was no holding back, this stallion was not one of his own, and Archibald was not the wise teacher he often stood as among his warriors and herdmates. No, this stallion was a demon, a warlord, a raging creature with crimson staining his vision. Archibald pushed his shoulder forward, letting his center of gravity drop and his beck legs lift his slightly before lurching forward and toward where he hoped the stallion to be, attempting to ram his massive right shoulder into Sacre's own, left shoulder.

Loretta quickly darted in, snarling as her eyes finally a companion. She tried to stay on the right side of Sacre, snarling and nipping to keep him from balking away from Archibald.

[PC: 1/3 | WC: 731 | Magic:
Loretta: Time slip: another, making them think they are a young child for 30 seconds.
Archibald: Magic: Earth (U) | The ability to turn another's bones to stone, causing immobilization or slower movement  ::  Restrictions | Bones are turned to actual stone; the effects will wear off gradually; in battle, attack lasts for 50 seconds. Can only be used once in a post ]


[I originally was going to pick Abraham, but you had to set it in the HF and Archi had to find out somehow that it was open territory....sorry Sacre ^^; Also how dare you make me break out my "Sad but Violent -- Archibald" Playlist!] @Sacre

Through the ages of time
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.

please tag me

Sacre Posts: 274
World's Edge Emissary atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 5 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Inari :: Red Fox :: Heal & Ríona :: Common Kitsune :: Electric imi
... and then the sea swept in and left us all speechless

Sacre didn’t know what kind of challenger he was looking for as he cast around the dewy grass, gaze keenly scouting around him, flanked by one Kitsune and watched by a fox who sat a safer distance away. By mutual agreement, they had decided that the fox-boy would only ever have Ríona accompany him in battle, Inari was small and had no offensive abilities to defend himself with. So it was the two who were imbued with more than just physical strength that took to the fields, the stage for their violent show, hearts pounding in anticipation. It could easily be said that the Doctor was not quite ready for the demonic mountain that roared out from the forest, his loyal dog on his heels, bearing down on the startled healer who wasn’t quite expecting Archibald the Dauntless. “Wait,” he half whispered, half sobbed at the approaching goliath, he wasn’t ready. By the Gods he wasn’t ready at all, not for this kind of challenge, but perhaps today would be the today he learnt how to survive in the face of the impossible.

“Sacre” a duo of foxes cried in unison, their panic filled his mind and he wanted to move, he really wanted to move, to run away from this menace and give in to the shuddering fright that caused his heart to stumble over itself. Yet, he couldn’t even do that, something routed him to the spot, his bones like hard stone, he could move only barely, not enough to escape the fate brought down on him by an angry warlord who looked ready to deal out the fox-boys violent end. Something in his mind pulled him back in time, way back in time, to the moment when he had only been a leggy colt in the embrace of the cold mountain. He felt like a colt again and the memories it stirred were old and mundane, forming a ball of constricting nostalgia in his chest. In the memory, his father was mulching around in a cave, playing with some strange smelling concoction he had made up, a maddening grin slapped across his mouth as he hummed almost whimsically. d’Artagnan had always been just a little bit odd. Somewhere behind him he could hear Roux playing, it was such a childlike happy sound that Sacre couldn’t help but laugh, merrily, briefly unaware of how insane that seemed in his current timeline. 

Then there was pain.

As Archibald’s teeth caught against his withers Sacre let out a grunt, grimacing as his happy memory disappeared, leaving a lingering feeling of disappointment to mingle with the more sudden sharpness of his pain. He still felt like he was just a boy with his heavy bones routing him and if it wasn’t for Ríona, he might have given up all hope there and then, as the Kitsune suddenly sprang forward to the defence of her trapped friend. Sparking to life her electric whips that danced from her four tails, swirling about her as she directed them with a great lash, swooshing them through the air and aiming to slap them against the great chest of the Dauntless before moving after his dog who was snarling at Sacre's side. “Move” she pleaded of her frozen friend, attempting to distract the dog so Sacre, who was still ensnared in the enchantments, might have a chance as Archibald descended upon him again, but this time he managed to move a little. He shifted his body weight slightly onto his right side, tucking away his left shoulder as it glanced against the raging mammoth, even that was enough force to knock him off balance, and he struggled to keep his feet with his heavy bones as he tried to angle his horn so it might have a chance to cut the great beast whilst he was nearby.

Come on, he pleaded to his own demoralised self, looking to grab at any advantage he still might be able to salvage as he reached for his magic, eyes burning with pain and a fired up anger as they sought his great opponent. “Bleed” he spat with a rare showing of irrational spite as he unleashed his magic, hoping it would find its way to the Dauntless, and leech the blood from his body. He might be stuck here, the fox-boy, a colt with heavy stones for bones, but he didn’t need to move a muscle to make his adversaries bleed. 

However, even as the magic left his body, with the aim of finding its target, Sacre couldn’t stop the same feeling of great revulsion that always seemed to come over him whenever he was in a fight. That he could possibly hurt someone, even someone like Archibald, still made him feel disgusted with himself.

1/3 | 796 words | 

Ríona: Electric: lightning can manifest from the tails and be used as whip-like weapons

Sacre: :: [ Magic: DarkxWater | Can slowly leach blood from other's body, leaving them dehydrated, anemic and weak ] 
:: [ Restrictions | Causes the effect of sweating blood; power only lasts for 30 seconds, weakening opponent ]

*note; only Ríona is fighting, Inari isn't taking part.

@Archibald good lord haha I wouldn't wanna be you Sacre xD <3 lmao b'awww poor sad Archi D:

There's something wretched about this
Something so precious about this

❚ Force permitted!
❚ Please tag me!

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Time limit exceeded, Archibald defaults to Sacre, Sacre earns 0.5 VP.
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode

Forum Jump:

RPGfix Equi-venture