the Rift


david and goliath, archibald challenge

Jackal2 the King of Thieves Posts: 71
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 ½ :: 3 years
zz
#1


A muted sun hides beneath a swath of cloud, demurely illuminating the valleys below in drab colors. It is cold, as if the last vestiges of frostfall have decided to mourn the passing of their season, seeping into his bones like some wicked disease. The mousy dun stands low and crouched against a relentless wind, auburn mane afire as it writhes and dances in thrall. "Dauntless," he hails, sinister and soft, rasping grass with a stone cast hoof. "Fight or kneel, like your Svetlana." There is a taint of irony in his voice; he knows this situation all too well, although he doubts the mighty Dauntless will kneel half as well as the Storm Chaser. He laughs at the image - Archibald will still be twice his height on those clean white knees!

Dei makes smart rounds overhead, outlined by the dull, anemic clouds in a halo of dusky bronze. The black draft had wanted a challenge, and even Jackal could see it in his eyes when they last met. The Dauntless had been disappointed in him, like one whose lover has abandoned them for another, and his words still sing terse and loud against the clangor of his skull. I am doing you a favor, the King of Thieves muses, I am proving your worth, like I did with the pale mare you were so fond of. The dun thrusts his rust-lacquered head upward and regards the sky with vague amusement, a colorless sky reflecting in his colorless eyes like the kiss of a ghost.
He had expected to see more of the brothers (how were they brothers, anyways? One was gigantic, and the other was small and meek and stony) during his patrols and his trips to the Threshold, but they are rare, elusive creatures. Jackal wonders mildly if they are allergic to living organisms, or dead, and raised by some sort of sorcery, or just apathetic. Even Svetlana, with her asinine haughtiness, had made herself known to her people - even in her downfall, she sought them out. The appaloosa remembers the encounter by the waterfall bitterly; it was like a slap to the face when she had returned to rouse the herd, but he is glad no one came to meet her except for the dark brothers, Maskan and Madyrn. Worthy warriors, he decides, not for the first time, and surely not for the last. If half their regiment were as steadfast as them, the Foothills would not be so defenseless - they are like ducks, swimming in a pond with slavering foxes perched on the shore. And at whose fault is that?

The King of Thieves waits for his assailant with all the patience of an electric youth, sorely wishing Dei could still speak to him, and that he wasn't so alone in this desolate, pale world.

(Jackal is challenging Archibald - if he wins, Jackal intends to demote Archibald. If Archibald wins, he has all the rights to demote Jackal. 4 posts each, 1 defense, you can go first. Good luck!)


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
#2
ARCHIBALD

THE DAUNTLESS

ready to ignite



The sky, so dark and so dangerous, growled with a ferocity that paralleled the dark mother of the moving, dark beast. Archibald moved swiftly towards his challenge, head held in a regal position. The Dauntless stood as the Warlord of the Foothills—and he did not receive his ranking without action. Every fiber within the large body of the dark knight deserved this position more than one atom in the make-up of the pitiful, foolish Jackal. This haughty appaloosa was just as din-witted as his uncle, thinking he could take hoof against the Dauntless. Archibald’s lesson would forever be implanted into Jackal’s mind, the searing pain of loss and humiliation just as perpetual.

Loretta danced besides her king, muscles quivering with delight. She could not hear Archibald’s thoughts in any way, because of the eclipse, but she knew that she was going to get to right in this battle. Her red coat bristled and she moved eagerly ahead of her bonded, tail sticking up with its point towards the sky. She would feel blood in her mouth; the irony taste would satisfy her. She had watched Archibald dominate so many in terms of battle, and finally she was able to join him. She was a skilled hunter and by simply play-fighting with her sister, Manhattan, she knew how strong her jaws were.

"You are ungallant and deficient, useless." The black knight hissed as he rolled onto the scene. He stood tall above Jackal, with strength and muscle that far surpassed the smaller stallion. Archibald’s midnight colored ears pinned to the back of his head and his neck arched menacingly, muscles bulging. To not have a fear of the more experience stallion was a foolish thing for Jackal to follow through on—Archibald had killed more stallions and defeated more opponents than Jackal thought. The perfect white feathers that draped around Archibald’s skilled hooves had been stained a dark crimson more times in the past than the rusted appaloosa had even thought about battling.

Archibald’s eyes narrowed darkly as he continued to walk closer to Jackal, ears still pinned and muscles tightening with power. Loretta circled the pair in a wide manner, amber eyes glistening with delight as she eyed the brown dragon. She wondered how dragon tasted, with its tough hide. Ophelia’s dragon was something Loretta could delight in and learn from—this dragon stood as her enemy. Baring her teeth the young dog growled, lowering her center of gravity by bending her legs. She was ready. As Archibald drew nearer to Jackal the Chief pushed his shoulders forward, his feathers swinging with his advancing hooves, muscles rippling throughout his body.

In one swift motion Archibald struck his neck out when he was less than a fox-length away from Jackal. The closing of the space between them with the dark knight’s giant head was fueled with bared teeth, aimed squarely for the rusted stallion’s shoulder. As Archibald swooped in to bite he kept moving his momentum forward, hulking body hoping to crash into Jackal and move him backwards. A faint sound of distant thunder rumbled across the sky as one of Birdsong’s many thunderstorms pushed its way into the Foothills. A shiver went down Archibald’s spine as the cold pushed into him as a gush of air passed the fighting pair. Loretta’s snarling was muted by a new, closer roll of thunder as the storm approached them. The Dauntless was ready for the battle in the rain.



[ WC: 577 | 1/4 | Archibald gets close to Jackal and strikes to bite at his shoulder, all the while still moving his body towards Jackal to push him backwards.]





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

Jackal2 the King of Thieves Posts: 71
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 ½ :: 3 years
zz
#3


Electricity hums and sizzles through his veins, pumping through his mortal heart like the quickest of poisons. A growl of thunder hearkens the arrival of the monstrous black stallion, snarling red bitch hot on pale heels. He is roiling with anger, every monstrous step like earthquakes as hooves meet soil - swift silver eyes judge him closely as he babbles uselessly, much like the pale mare before him. They have much more in common than he cares to admit. The Dauntless is cumbersome and lumbering, no doubt slow to move and clumsy, but his strength far surpasses the nimble appaloosa; one false move, one uncertainty, and Jackal would surely become crow fodder, strewn out beneath the wide grey sky like some testament against the audacity of youthful ideals.

Poor David is overcome with Goliath's shadow as he pulls closer, darkness in those queer wolf eyes of his. Every muscle in his dusty body tenses with the prospect of battle, and he feels it sing in his blood, as if every moment of his life led to this, and his soul wasn't so tattered and broken and he didn't feel so raw. His parents were great warriors, and Jackal only hopes the trait is hereditary. The red dun inhales, sharp and brisk, lungs swelling to harbor clammy storm-air. Archibald moves ever forward, menace etched in every harsh line of his body, as if the artist was angry and choleric, and the only colors he saw in this scene were grey, black and red. Jackal stands tensely, striped hooves digging into the grass, auburn tail slapping his haunch once idly with the sound of an angry whip. High above, a bronze dragon keens, ready to aid his friend with talons and fire and dagger-fangs that glisten with slaver. Vaguely, Jackal wonders if Archibald can fight as well as he can sit on his ass, or whatever else he does in private.

Suddenly, Archibald surges forward, dark lips drawn back to reveal a grin of ugly teeth. When they threaten to pull the skin of his naked right shoulder, the King of Thieves reels frantically backward, weight absorbed deftly onto his rump and rusty ears slick against his poll. Wincing as he feels blunt teeth graze lightly against the skin of his shoulder, Jackal narrowly avoids the Dauntless' bulk crashing against his own with a minute swerve to the left; he takes advantage of the Shire's savage advancing momentum to slip forward gently, brushing past the black with the suavest of touches. The Shire's right flank is exposed with his thrust forward, catching the listless light in rippling bandeaus of dull blacks and drab greys. It's a shame he isn't as pretty as me, the King of Thieves chortles as he reveals his own toothy smile, dry with the prospect of tasting fur and skin and blood and dirt. He strains upward in an effort to grapple the Shire's meaty, sensitive hip and send this trackless train of a man staggering. Painfully aware that his own buttocks are exposed, the appaloosa leans his weight promptly into his forehand, sending striped fore hooves into the sod and letting his heels free of weight, ready to strike backward at Archibald's leering white face, should he turn and strike at the pretty spotted rump.

The ground vibrates and thrums excitedly with their dance, tall blades of grass caressing the underside of his belly like the palms of long lost lovers. Churning with turbulent clouds, the sky purrs with thunder and threatens rain. Fingers of lightning illuminate the darkness, casting a momentary halo around the waltzing stallions.

The skies will cry tonight.



1 / 4
617 words

As Archibald thrusts forward, Jackal falls back on his haunches. Archi's teeth barely graze his right shoulder (you didn't specify a side, so I just picked one) as Jackal narrowly avoids being trampled by veering to Archi's right, and brushing past his charging bulk. He aims to bite Archibald's right hip, heels at the ready if Archibald chooses to turn around and bite his rump.


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
#4
ARCHIBALD

THE DAUNTLESS

ready to ignite


The Dauntless was pleased with how Jackal responded to his initial attack. The smaller stallion scrambled backwards, a frantic desire for escape. Teeth strike and hardly leave a bite, but surely a bruise will form with just the power behind the attack. Narrowed golden eyes took in the overwhelmed stallion as he shifted his weight quickly and then moved forward and to the side. Parallel battle is what Jackal wished for? Oh, he believed that speed would be on his side this day. It was true—Archibald was a hulking behemoth and my nature Jackal would hold speed as strength, but Archibald was skilled in battle beyond the smaller stallion. Many spars with his faster brothers proved to be of worth now, as well as his spars here in Helovia. Leyra had been a quick little unicorn, but Archibald defeated her quickly. He felt Jackal would be no different. Archibald held a quicker reaction time and speed than his draft bloodlines graced him with, and he acquired it through defeating useless flesh like Jackal.

Quickly the shire tucked his chin and turned his head away from Jackal’s back hooves, predicting that the foolish stallion would attempt to lash out at the dark knight’s blazed face. With Jackal on the Chief’s right side, now, feathered white hooves had to opportunity to strike out and demolish something on the pretty stallion’s face.

Lightning struck above the stallions, brightening the sky and the terrain around them. Slowly but surely, rain trickled down from thick clouds above even Dei. The drops splatter and destroy themselves over the black hide of the giant beast, and before Archibald could suck in a full breath the sky let loose its entire fury. The rain hit the ground hard, the sound of it like a monsoon in the Chief’s ears, deafening him to anything that was not important. Gritting his teeth Archibald kept moving his body forward for two steps, just as Jackal tilted his head to strike out at his hip. Thrusting his weight forward Archibald threw his heavy, feathered hooves right for Jackal’s face. Jackal’s teeth rolled over nothing, and if he kept his attack moving forward Archibald would surely knock that pretty little jaw of his off balance. Maybe he will starve to death, Archibald mused with the faintest hint of a smirk assembling in his dark face.

After his kicks, aimed squarely for Jackal’s mouth, were sent out his thick pillar-like legs returned to him. With his balance restored the behemoth pivoted his front end away from Jackal, his rear facing the rusted mutt’s shoulder. Once again, Archibald sent out kicks capable of bone crushing destruction. The power behind Archibald’s attacks was undeniable; his body was composed of raw muscle and trained ability. Archibald’s kicks were sent out at Jackal’s shoulder, aiming for his lower scapula, where it connected with the humerus. Jackal’s deltoid muscle that covered the thick bone were in danger—even his supraspinate muscle was in the way of harm—for Archibald was not messing around. Archibald did not play games.

Mandrake had trained Archibald not to lose, and he would not fall today. The key difference between the Stormchaser and the Dauntless was the lack of courage. Svetlana was a coward, one that fled so easily from her position and from her herd. Archibald was not even close to that. He had been here since Gossamer’s rein—he was one of the first members of this herd—and he would not stand for Jackal to ruin his home. Loretta snarled furiously as she watched Dei fly in the sky, body ready to send her magic out towards him and send him to the ground where she could sink her fangs into him. Thunder shook the earth once more, and the ground soaked with rain. The footing beneath the warriors would soon become slick—hooves would slide this way and that. Archibald’s dark hide was wet already, the cold rain sinking down into his bones. His underbelly stayed dry, with the tall grasses unable to reach it with their long, delicate fingers.

[WC: 681 | 2/4 | Archibald tucks his chin and turns his head away so that if Jackal kicks he will not hit his head or face. Archibald moves forward and kicks out with his back feet to hit Jackal’s face, closer to his mouth. Then Archibald turns so his butt is facing Jackal’s shoulder and kicks out again.]





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

Jackal2 the King of Thieves Posts: 71
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 ½ :: 3 years
zz
#5


It begins to rain.

His teeth meet little more than thin air and stray raindrops, clacking together disconcertingly as the dark body slips beyond reach. However, Jackal's face has precious few moment to remain whole as the giant's gigantic feet snap upward to meet it in a vicious kick. Being rather fond of the wholeness of his head, the thick neck, driven by the most primal of instincts, jerks backward sharply, rusty nose narrowly avoiding the most catastrophic of the foot's impact. He snorts harshly, ridding his nostrils of rainwater and stale air and snot, but suddenly, the swarthy behemoth's ass (as big of one as the dun had ever seen, he thinks with a snicker) begins to swerve toward him like a van deprived of a parking space, aiming a rather predictable kick to his shoulder.

Jackal grimaces into the driving downpour, hoping that for the sake of the Foothills, and the sanctity of his body, the Dauntless would drop dead.

Lady fate does not humor him today, and squinting furiously through the curtain of rain the color of his father's eyes, he catches only a flash of white before the Dauntless' hooves become airborne, flying toward the dun's shoulder like a pair of harpies scorned. With little time, the red dun gathers his weight onto the compact muscles of his haunches, lunging swiftly upward, forelegs clawing blindly through the air and water as if searching for wings to escape with.
As the dun ascends, Archibald's kick finds purchase on Jackal's left shoulder; their closeness lessens the effect of the blow, although it is strong enough to push Jackal's body sharply to the right. The muffled sound of horn on flesh conceals his pained grunt, and he stumbles several feet right of the Dauntless' memorable rump. Jackal grits his teeth in an attempt to subdue the pain of the draft's kick, before casting his figure forward through the darting rain, red mane slick against his neck.
The slippery footing, paired with his throbbing shoulder, makes the King of Thieve's charge forward, however rapid or careful, ginger and awkward. Striped hooves send chunks of sodden mud and grass hurtling through the air, like ridiculous downcast angels as Jackal continues ever forward, breathing labored and harsh, fueled by a love of the Foothills, and his own bitter pride.

From the haze of the dark sky, a glistening bronze body zips downward like an arrow toward Archibald's face, finding convenient camouflage in the confusion of raindrops, and the peripheral placement of equine eyes. Although their bond is mute, Dei has no trouble knowing when his companion needs him. The dragon spreads his jaws wide and unleashes a belly full of fire straight into bull's eye of the the Dauntless' starkly striped face, hoping to catch the black stallion off guard while his appaloosa attacks from the draft's right.
Jackal digs his heels into the drenched soil, using the momentum of his reckless headlong bolt to heave his nimble forebody through the air, grunting as his left shoulder aches with agony. He snakes his neck out in an attempt to catch the paunchy Shire's slippery crest between his ivory teeth; perhaps Goliath will be confounded by the dual attacks - after all, giants aren't known to be the wittiest of creatures. He strives to knock Archibald unbalanced once more, aware that his lithe weight may do nothing to affect this hulking slab of horseflesh - it's the least he can do.

While his maniac heart throbs uncontrollably in the cage of his ribs, Jackal hopes wildly that this victory will be his; he does not want his ancestors to be known as the blood of a traitor and a thief and a coward, but sing with pride when they receive the wisp of his soul in the afterlife.



2 / 4
637 words

Jackal takes Archibald's kick in the left shoulder and is shoved to the right. He promptly charges forward, and while Dei swoops in and bellows fire into Archibald's face, he rears at Archibald's right shoulder and tries to bite his neck to knock him off balance.


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
#6
ARCHIBALD

THE DAUNTLESS

ready to ignite



The feeling of the vibrations from the successful landing of his kick to Jackal’s shoulder surging up his hind legs was much more pleasing to him than the Birdsong rain that soaked through his coat. The wind blasted and caused the rain to pelt against the black knight’s dark hide with a force only the God’s controlled. The Earth God—the one that graced him with the magical ability he held and his companion—was surely watching now with scornful eyes. The patron of the Foothills probably felt a sting of pain each time challenge for his herd happened. Firstly with Paladin, the true father of the destiny of the Foothills, and secondly with Jackal, the child who only fought for his selfish gain. Archibald’s anger rose and the adrenaline that pumped through his veins and the intense movement of his body were the only things keeping him warm. If he had a choice he would not be out in this rain—but he would not let leadership fall out of his experienced hooves. Archibald was the rightful Warlord of the Foothills—his battle experience far greater than that of the reddened creature behind him—he had defeated many a foe.

Lightning flashed once more, the storm sitting on top of them completely. Thunder was almost instantaneous, booming and deafening the Dauntless. His back hooves returned to the ground and he refocused his balance, narrowed eyes seeming to glow in the darkness of the storm. Archibald remembered his battle with Fence, a test for Fence to become a Mystic Woodlands warrior. Archibald’s back hooves had felt a familiar sensation during that battle, clashing hard onto the white Orlov’s shoulder. Archibald had felt a sense of superiority in that battle as well as a pure joy from dirtying the pristine white coat of Fence. The feeling blossomed in him now, not for disrupting the already clay colored coat of Jackal, but for disrupting and hopefully damaging the shoulder muscles in the smaller stallion.

As Archibald’s body prepared for his next attack something happened so quick and so fierce it sent the Dauntless reeling. His once narrowed eyes widened to expose the whiting around his golden irises, and his hooves scrambled as he pushed his body as fast as he could to the left. His face stayed protected from the spiraling flames because of his quicker reaction time (something his battle buffs graced him with), but the right side of his neck felt the wrath of the small reptile’s fire. This pain was something new for him—never in his spars had he been attacked by a dragon. The flames licked the side of his neck and his eyes closed tightly, pain rippling through his body. Archibald’s legs swallowed earth for several bounds, landing him yards away from Jackal and his companion. His jerking movements had left Jackal’s extended hooves to scrape lightly over his ribcage. The pain from the blunt force to his flank was nothing compared to the white hot pain of Dei’s fire. Shit. The Dauntless sent a loud grunt of pain into the wet air, the sound of the rain hitting earth and stone concealing it.

Raw anger surged through Loretta; an emotion hotter and thirstier for flesh than the fire that spewed from the disgusting lizard’s mouth. Her amber eyes narrowed as she focused on the reptilian creature, a roar-like growl splitting the air. In dark waves the malamute’s power rolled out of her body, heading straight for the bronze dragon. The little bastard sent his fire towards Archibald—she knew all too well the damage fire could bring from the scars upon the faces of Paladin and Ricochet. She did not want any fire to harm Archibald—and she was angry at herself for even letting the gremlin release his fiery weapon on the Dauntless. The time magic that split through the air between the two companions ripped Dei’s life away. Physically, he stayed the same; mentally, he would be reduced to nothing but a babe. Her power, such a strange and powerful thing, would send him whirling back in time. Down below, in her muddled, angry thoughts she hoped that the idiotic dragon would crawl back so far into infancy that he would forget all together to bond he shared with the red dun appaloosa and fly away in fear. Her body shuddered at both the powerfulness that coursed through her as well as the freezing cold rain that soaked her straight to the bone.

Through red-strained pain Archibald turned back around and surged towards Jackal, his body drumming with anger and pain, a dangerous mixture. Archibald’s ears pinned back and he stretched his neck, muscles quivering in pain as he hoped to land a bite—his teeth aiming for the bastard’s jugular.

[WC: 798 | ¾ | Companion/Magic: ½ | Archibald veers to the left and bounds several yards away from the fire, getting the right side of his neck burned up. He turns back around to face Jackal and runs forward, ears back and teeth aimed for Jackal’s throat.]





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

Jackal2 the King of Thieves Posts: 71
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 ½ :: 3 years
zz
#7


A brief flicker of victory passes through silver eyes, like the bolts of light that shine so brightly as they wheel and dance around each other. It is not only the deft fingers of lightning that illuminates the darkness, but something much hotter, much more lethal - the sheer brightness of Dei's tyrannical flames cause Jackal to squint, as the black Shire slips from the battery of his blunt hooves to a safer place. Rain hisses and sizzles as they evaporate, and the dun feels pride swell in his chest for his friend, swimming through his veins like a virus and infecting his body with mirth and fervor. For a moment, the Dauntless seems to escaping into the swarthy distance, rendered a coward by the hot kiss of dragon fire. The boy and his dragon hesitate, eyes turned toward the direction of the stallion's exit, with all the attentiveness of an expectant mother. He is elated and soaked to the bone for the better part of a moment, a grin of triumph sliding onto his face by the fingers of victory; Jackal half-hopes for Goliath to dissolve into the drenched atmosphere, like a vampire wreathed with garlic, or a witch bathed in water.

The conquest is short-lived.

He comes back, a murky, scathing demon, jaw wide to throttle the dun's throat in an whore's wet embrace. Instinctively, the handsome rusty head snaps downward to protect the delicate throat. For a moment, they leer at each other, yellow on silver, like the filthy union of piss and argent. Delicate nostrils, distended with exertion, smell sweat cleansed by rain, spittle, and the sourness of his opponent's breath.
For a fraction of a moment, the Shire's incisors manage to fasten upon his soft nose, and Jackal is locked with the Dauntless, breath denied to him by the giant's lethal grasp. However, the rain makes his lean face slippery, so it is with little effort that he slides himself from the grip of the behemoth's foul mouth, and he is breathless with the promise of asphyxiation. Regaining his composure, Jackal snorts rain and spit and snot from his newly aching nose, stony eyes transfixed on the right side of Archibald's muscular neck, licked passionately by dragon fire. With all the quickness of his lineage, the appaloosa abruptly plunges himself once more into the rain, squinting as the water tumbles into his sight. Hooves impale the muddy ground furiously, welcomed by the treacherous mire which smears his fleet limbs with cold brown muck. Cold sinks into his damaged left shoulder, which cries in complaint and hinders him with pain.

It is a good thing their bond is silent; the red dog's magic draws years from the dragon's mind, reducing him to a mere hatchling. The bitch is foolish, though, for the bond between bronze and boy are stronger than she would ever know; Jackal had been the first thing Dei had seen upon crawling from the safety of his egg, and their bond was instantaneous and stalwart.
Dei is wet and cold, a mere babe drenched in rain; he needs warmth to wash the discomfort away, and the only comfort he knows is Jackal. Forgetting the purpose of hovering beneath the shrouded sky, the dragon zips quickly toward his bonded, flight clumsy and laboured underneath the heavy raindrops. The hatchling is surprised when he finds his bonded wrestling with another, their movements vicious and cruel. He feels the need to hurt the assailant, although when he reaches out to the appaloosa, he finds nothing but silence. Discouraged, the bronze resorts to wheel nervously around the combating duo, confused and dejected by his bonded's hush.

Jackal risks a glance toward Dei, rain thrumming mercilessly into his pale eyes. The dragon is circling above them nervously, his flight odd and seemingly unpracticed. Shaking the unease which blooms vaguely in his mind, he continues toward his foe.

Lips of fine velvet clefted to divulge an array of vindictive teeth, the King of Thieves extends his neck forward, ears humming and thrumming with whirling blood and boisterous torrents of rain. He wants to take the awful burn between his teeth and wrench it, like a wolf coercing marrow from bone. It will hurt like hell, he knows, perhaps more than anything the monster has ever felt. Encouraged by the thought, and driven by the sudden, sadistic urge to cause affliction, he wants to clamp down as hard as his blunt horse's teeth allow; the cowardly boy is dead, the man knows, and in his wake is a callous iron dagger.



3 / 4
763 words


Jackal snaps his head downward to protect his throat, and Archibald's teeth find his tender nose instead. As it is slippery and wet, he manages to wriggle out of Archibald's grasp and lunge toward the right side of his neck, where he aims to grab a piece of burnt skin and twist it between his teeth. Meanwhile, Dei's mental state is reduced to that of a hatchling by Loretta's magic, and he wheels around confusedly above them.



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
#8
ARCHIBALD

THE DAUNTLESS

ready to ignite


It hurts. His mind, so focused and trained with battle strategy and composure, is clogged and clouded by smoggy pain. The black knight’s body shakes with adrenaline and pain mixing through his bloodstream and pumping through his heart. The rain, such a monsoon, pours from the dark sky furiously and stings his burn wound. The area around them stunk—sodden earth, burnt hair and skin, anger—it mixed together to create an odor of battle, a violent mixture. The exordium of the fire’s grip was only the short end of Archibald’s pain, and the stallion knew it.

The behemoth’s breathing is rolling out in short grunts as he runs, ears pinned and jaws extended, waiting for a swift kill. The rain obscures his vision, wind whipping it. Rivers flowed down his withers, haunches, and face as the rain collected on his body. The Dauntless felt the earth give way underneath his heavy form, his hooves sliding gently as he barreled towards Jackal. His teeth, instead, are greeted by the velvet of Jackal’s nose. The Dauntless closes his jaws tightly, holding on to the thief’s breath. Slicked by the rain, Jackal slips his velveteen nose from the grasp of the Chief and reels backwards, sputtering like an idiot. Archibald shakes his head quickly, sending water droplets flying to crash into the falling rain. The black knight’s eyelashes were getting a workout to protect his golden eyes from the copious amounts of rain falling from the sky.

Jackal’s hesitation as he watches Dei is Archibald’s chance. Jackal’s challenge could have only been derived from a potvaliant state—the younger, thinner horse being drunk with the thrill from driving out Svetlana--but Archibald killed Svetlana; she fell under his hooves, such a weak, disgusting creature, not unlike the foolish stallion he faced now. Hooves, fueled by gall and power, pressed into the wet ground again as Archibald dashed forward. Golden eyes watch as Jackal finds himself in battle again and comes closer, teeth aimed for Archibald’s neck. Snorting, the Dauntless turns his head and opens his jaws wide, neck muscles pushing his attack forward. Blunt teeth aim for the left side of Jackal’s neck—much in the same area that the dun aims for on himself—and hopes to snap closed and rip skin away. With their closeness Archibald feels the heat of Jackal’s body, smells his stench heavier than before, and his ferocity heightens.

Archibald, with his bite, had stopped his advance, and was now meshed close with the appaloosa. Mudded, heavy white feathers swung and stuck to his legs as the Dauntless struck out with his left fore, the leg coming up high and rolling powerfully towards the sensitive legs of his challenger. Gargantuan hooves slam towards Jackal’s radius, hoping to cause damage directly above the knee joint. As Archibald kicks and bites, an almost simultaneous task, a raw, white surge of pain rips through his body. Archibald’s golden eyes clamp shut, as if to block out the unwelcomed feeling, and Archibald rips his body to the left once more, burnt skin full of dead cells staying in the grasp of the King of Thieves as he steals it from the Dauntless. Archibald shakes his head to try and rid the pain, and with anger unmatched by anything in the entirety of Helovia, his hooves slam against the muddy earth precisely.

The ground shakes beneath the two creatures and Archibald bends his knees skillfully to lower his center of gravity and protect himself from his own magical ability. It is not thunder that booms in the sky, nor lightning that illuminates the dark world around them, that shakes the earth now. It is power—hand crafted from the Earth God himself—racing through Archibald’s cells and out through his white hooves, rattling the ground so hard it threatens to rip open and expose the fiery core of the earth. Archibald’s ability held all the raw possibility of sending Jackal off balance, and the Dauntless hopes it does. Birch, had been caught completely off guard by the dangerous quake Archibald caused. The white draft had been quick to react, but Archibald had gained the upper hand and defeated the tree-creature with ease. With bended knees, Archibald waited for his assailant, head low and ears pinned, to work a deflection into his favor.

Loretta watched as Dei flew about clumsily, her rain-soaked pelt sticking to her like she, too, had just rolled from the safety of an egg. Her growl, something seeming so continuous throughout this battle, continued even further. Her amber eyes broke away from the reptile, however, as the earth shook beneath her and took her balance. Stumbling back, further away from the dueling duo, Loretta lowered her body down to the ground, legs stiff to hold her in place.


[WC: 800 | 4/4 | Companion/Magic: 2/2 | Archibald goes forward and bites at Jackal's neck whilst kicking out at Jackal's left leg, aiming for his radius. Jackal bites Archibald's neck and he pulls away, leaving Jackal with a bit of his burnt skin. Archibald then slams his hooves on the ground and uses his magic to shake the ground with the intent to throw Jackal off balance.]





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

Jackal2 the King of Thieves Posts: 71
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 ½ :: 3 years
zz
#9


Before he can taste the Dauntless' crisp skin on his ever craving tongue, the behemoth halts abruptly, striking out powerfully with his muddy left foreleg while an abysslike mouth, wide and hungry, barrels toward his neck like a starved bottom feeding fish. In a chaos of rain and stink and hooves and instinct, the agile dun explodes to the right, a patch of burnt skin between his teeth like some grotesque playbill. However, the appaloosa is not entirely unscathed. Although Archibald's incisors only brush his slick neck, the draft's deft foot catches the muscle above his left patella with a slick smack as the dun reels frantically away, mud splattering perilously over his heaving sides.
Hooves dig into the slippery mud as he skids to a stop; the King of Thieves seems almost small beneath a halo of water, head thrust downward, near leg held aloft painfully against his chest while his shoulder throbs with effort and cold. Quietly, he glances heavenward, catching the circling dragon's eyes with a grimace.

The bitch's magic sloughs off like love gone bad, draining from the bronze's mind as easily as it had corrupted it, leaving a sting of resentment in the back of his throat like old bile.

With ease, the immense Shire takes a kneel, and for half a heartbeat, Jackal feels the kiss of victory sting his blood - but something is wrong. Worry creases ugly wrinkles over sterling eyes, and the dun begins to feel a faint quaver whispering in his bones. What had been still and calm a moment before leaps suddenly to life, bucking and leaping beneath three striped hooves like a capricious child. Velvet lips pucker with uncertainty as the trembling increases; he had trusted the earth for so many years to remain stable beneath his feet, and only now it begins to throw tantrums? Jackal feels the impact of the word earthquake in all its splendor as never before. A dark-rimmed ear tilts backward with unease before his balance is thrown, injured leg cast down to help support him, clattering clumsily onto the mud. Teeth grit furiously to staunch the scream which threatens to burst from his chest like some shade from his past; in something of a foggy epiphany, he realizes why the Dauntless kneels. With the massive center of balance lowered, he does not convulse or fall as much as if he stood. Fitfully, Jackal allows his forelimbs to slide through the soft mud, body leaning forward in something of an awkward cat-stretch, although he still rocks and shakes as if taken by a seizure. His harrowing leg begins to tremble under pressure, throbbing angrily like lips before a passionate kiss.

Slowly, the dun lifts his head upward and sterling eyes meet jade with steely resolve, understanding passing through their fleeting glance like electric impulses in the brain. The dragon glides downward from his high circle with predatory grace, fire boiling in his belly and threatening to burst from his throat. He creeps silently toward Goliath's prodigious rump, a sinister reptilian grin unfurling across his slender face before the flames licking his throat are delivered under the hissing rain, a prophet reborn. They roll relentlessly in the direction of the big dark arse before it. Orange traces the dragons' face, hardening his languid features until they seem cast from bronze and fire.

And the King of Thieves kneels under a shroud of rain, quavering before this god of fire, this ravenous flame, the manic pulse of his heart drowning out the earthquake and the rain and his own niggling doubts.




4 / 4
600 words



Jackal balks from the bite and strike; Archibald's teeth only graze his neck, but his hoof manages to catch the tendon above the left knee whilst Jackal escapes. He manages to limp to a stop, but the earthquake takes him unaware, and he almost looses his balance before following Archibald's example and kneeling. Meanwhile, Dei comes from behind Archibald and unleashes fire onto his rump.





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
#10
ARCHIBALD

THE DAUNTLESS

ready to ignite



It is not without pain the Chief accepts his small victory. Jackal’s leg firmly clamps underneath him, and Archibald has successfully deterred the male from damaging his heat-throttled neck further. His neck has gone numb with dead cells, but his body quivers and shakes uncontrollably to remind him of the treacherous trials he has just been put through. The rain that stings his body and seeps down to his bones to freeze him entirely, he guesses, has something to do with the numbness of his burn. The splattering of the precise and harsh rain drops no longer bothered the intense wound that covered him.

Archibald’s magic dies down and the Chief lifts his body up again to a prideful stature, though his face is masked and marred with pain. His bright golden eyes have dimmed and his wet forelock clings to his blazed brow in cold, stringy strands. Thankfully his mane naturally flops onto the opposite side of his neck, to coarse fibers keeping themselves out of the mess. Flicking his tail behind him, whips of water flying off at its end, the male took careful strides towards Jackal. His ribcage ached as he walked, taught black skin pulling over it and stretching the bruised muscle. The Dauntless moves like a wraith, stained feathers sticking to his ankles and large hooves falling soundless over the muddy earth. It is not nearly two steps the Dauntless takes before he hears the familiar hissing sound.

Panic fills his heart and lungs and he instantly started forward at a canter, pain rippling through his body. His limps scream for him to stop but all he can think is run. Run, to save yourself from the flames. Alas, his running does not save him. The heat hits first and Archibald closes his eyes, but keeps running blindly. For an instant, he is thankful Jackal’s attacks stayed clear of his pillar like appendages that now were his only form of safety. The heat is quickly followed by a pain he had not forgotten—it consumed him as the flames licked over his dock, focused more on the right side than the left. Archibald’s teeth clenched and he finally came to a halt, breathing heavy. His skin boiled and bubbled—the burns on his rump not as severe as the ones on his neck. Archibald’s muscles quivered as he bit back a scream of pain. His golden eyes were held shut by black lids, veiling his pain as he tried to regain composure.

Loretta stands wide-eyed, heart seemingly stopped in her chest and stomach in her throat. Her ears pin back and she runs quickly for Archibald’s side. She does not dare touch him—suddenly afraid of his massiveness and anger—but merely stays with him for support. Hearing her muted bond mate take one, deep breath she lifts her agile paws to follow in his steps. The Dauntless turns to face Jackal now, lifting his head proudly and opening his eyes to match the stormy gaze of the Spanish mutt. Rain sputters and attacks his rump, and as he turns he limps with effort and exhaustion—even with his battle buff of endure he felt tired. The storm raged above the heads of the Chiefs—now finished with their battle—and Archibald stood like a statue, eyes cold and ever-challenging.



[WC: 555 | Closing Defense | Archibald runs away from Dei's fire but it catches his rump, more on the right than the left. The burn is not as bad as he one on his neck.]





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

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#11




J a c k a l | A r c h i b a l d
- - - - -
By my verdict JACKAL is the winner.

ARCHIBALD -- post 1 (attack only)

[Realism]
0| Attack: Biting at Jackal's shoulder. You failed to mention which side you were attacking.
+ 1| Attack: Crashing into Jackal's body is a smart move for how large Archibald is.

[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Ease of Read
+ 1| Flow

JACKAL -- post 1

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Pulling back onto hindends to soften the blow of the bite.
+ 1| Defense: Slight swerve to the left to avoid crashing weight.
+ 1| Using your opponent's momentum to your own advantage.
+ 1| Attack: Biting at the hip.

[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Ease of Read
+ 1| Flow

ARCHIBALD -- post 2

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Kicking at Jackal's face in defense of the bite.
+ 1| Defense: Leaning head down toward neck to defend face from a possible kick.
+ 1| Attack: Kicking at Jackal's shoulder.

[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Ease of Read
- 1| Flow: You separated the first thought of the kick by a paragraph of rather irrelevant details before actually completing the attack, which ruined the flow of the post and got me confused.

JACKAL -- post 2

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Jerking backward to avoid kick to the face.
- 1| Defense: Rearing in defense of a kick is not a good idea. Jackal would be very unbalanced, and would likely have toppled over on dry ground even without the kick being at full force due to close proximity.
+ 1| Attack: Dei's fire directed toward Archibald's face and using the attack as a distraction.
- 1| Attack: Rearing at Archibald's shoulder. You do not clearly dictate this attack outside of your summary, and you also do not mention the side you are attacking from.
+ 1| Attack: Bite to Archibald's neck.


[Prose]
+ 2| Emotion: Jackal comes to life during this post, and I enjoyed reading it very much.
- 1| Ease of Read: Unclear attack.
+ 1| Flow

ARCHIBALD -- post 3

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Scrambling left to avoid flames to the face.
+ 1| Defense: Movement causes Jackal's hooves to fall upon his ribcage.
- 1| Defense: No mention of Jackal's bite.
+ 1| Attack: Using Lorretta's magic to return Dei to infancy.
+ 1| Attack: Biting at Jackal's jugular.

[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Ease of Read
+ 1| Flow

JACKAL -- post 3

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Moving head down to avoid bite to the jugular while taking bite to the muzzle.
- 1| Injury: You fail to mention damage or much pain for the aforementioned attack, which is odd considering how sensitive a horse's muzzle is and the ferocity behind the attack.
+ 1| Dei's response to Loretta's magic is realistic and accounted for.
+ 1| Attack: Biting at the burnt flesh of Archibald's neck.


[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Ease of Read
+ 1| Flow

ARCHIBALD -- post 4

[Realism]
+ 1| Attack: Biting at Jackal's neck.
+ 1| Attack: Kicking at Jackal's leg with his front leg.
- 1| Taking Jackal's bite to the neck could have been easily avoidable, and I am not entirely certain why you would put your character through so much agony purposefully by allowing a severely injured area to be further damaged.
+ 1| Attack: Use of War Stomp to throw Jackal off balance.
+ 1| Experience: Connection to Birch's fight with Archibald.

[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Ease of Read
+ 1| Flow

JACKAL -- post 4

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Running right immediately to avoid bite, resulting in a graze of the neck.
- 1| Defense: Taking foreleg kick to leg above the knee. I'm not sure why you choose to avoid the bite but take the much more dramatic injury to the leg.
+ 1| Defense: Stretching downward to avoid falling to the ground during the earthquake.
+ 1| Attack: Using Dei to attack with fire while Jackal is rendered immobilized was smart.


[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Ease of Read
+ 1| Flow

ARCHIBALD -- post 5 (defense only)

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Wiser to Dei's flames, Archibald tries to run to minimize damage.


ARCHIBALD

[Bonus]
+ 1| Surroundings: Archibald mentions rain and has it affect his sight and sting his wounds.
+ 1| Breed Comparison

[Injuries]
Nothing.

[Creativity]
Nothing of note.

Comments: I would suggest to you in the future that the judge knows about your Battle Buffs and your elevated level of experience. It is part of a judge's duty to count off for an opponent ignoring your Buffs and experience, but it is not your duty to enforce them. If nothing else, it will spare your word count and allow for more important details. I wanted to comment about the Speed Buff mentioned in Archibald's second post to prevent possible future blunders. This Buff does not grant your character super speed, but merely enhances their natural ability. You may want to consider the words "faster than your opponent" as applying only to those opponents who are of similar build. Archibald is a massive draft, and regardless of how much experience he has, his movements will still be slower than that of Jackal's, who's breed is built for rapid bursts of speed and graceful movement. Anyway, you are well experienced and understand how the mechanics of fighting work - it shows. Your attacks were all realistic, well aimed, and usually clearly written. Good job and great fight!

JACKAL

[Bonus]
+ 2| Surroundings: Jackal always mentions his surroundings and has them effect him in his posts either positively or negatively. I also loved that you used water to make his muzzle slick.
+ 1| Least injured

[Injuries]
Nothing.

[Creativity]
+ 1| Defense: The slick of his muzzle reducing the damage he sustains.
+ 1| Incorporated sustained injuries throughout the fight realistically.
+ 1| Recoil of the vibrations to his injured leg during the earthquake.

Comments: You were the less experienced fighter, but you handled yourself very well. Jackal kept his injuries in mind throughout this battle, responded acccordingly, and used his surroundings to his advantage. Your writing was well worded and free of noticeable errors, filled with emotion packed words and a strong sense of Jackal. In the future, I would try to avoid injuries to the legs of your characters. They can be crippling in the wild and in battle. You had wonderful posts! Good fight!

TOTAL
Jackal - 76
Archibald - 73


Image Credit: dirkjankraan @ Flickr


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