Archibald’s body pumped, muscles rippling across his taught hide and anger seeped from his pours. His eyes were dark and narrowed as he trotted, head lowered almost parallel to his shoulders. Archibald was angry at everything: at Jackal, at his mother, at his brothers, at everything. His companion loped at his side with her ears pinned back and tail curled over her back. It was easy to see the anger that ripped across the pair, as if it were a dark cloud that surrounded them and all in their vicinity. Anger seemed to do that, to be a consuming fire of destruction and death. Archibald was ready for destruction and, surely, death. His hooves that were so used to the blood of others coating them pushed him forward, anger and a familiar bloodlust pulling at his heartstrings.

The neigh that hit him was like a blessing; soothing his bones and making his body shudder with excitement. So, someone wanted to fight? Archibald hoped that they were ready for what they called upon. With thundering hooves Archibald arrived on the scene, eyes instantly scanning the male. The black behemoth, naturally, stood heads above him; towering over others was not an odd thing for the black knight, as the only two he knew to reach higher than him were his brother Vincent and the Earth God. Archibald’s dark eyes narrowed as he examined the feathered appendages that protruded from the bay’s shoulders, and his mind raced with images of previous spars with his brother Wilder. His grey brother was a skilled flier, and he imagined this Pegasus was as well, but he was prepared nonetheless.

“I am Archibald the Dauntless, and I will fight with you.” Archibald’s voice was low and dark, laced with a whisper of bloodlust and dominance. He did not know anything about this fighter before him—other than what he could assume by his appearance—but Archibald wanted to spill his blood and watch fear enter him. He wondered if the bay was scared of death. If he was not, maybe he would be by the end of this fight. Loretta lowered her center of gravity next to him with her lips curling back to expose her deadly fangs. Archibald sternly sent a silent “No.” and she coiled back, looking up to him sadly. Whimpering gently, she turned and trotted away with her head and tail low. She wanted to share in his spar, but he wanted to do it alone.

Archibald was standing clear in front of the male, only a few feet away, when his body coiled and he propelled forward. Skillfully the warrior’s ears pinned and he stretched his neck out, jaws agape and ready to snap down on tight flesh. The muscles in Archibald’s shoulders flexed and his body shifted to the right, hoping to run parallel to Gaucho. Archibald’s neck rolled and he bit at the back end of the bay’s ribs, aiming between the external intercostal muscle and the transverse abdominal muscles. Archibald wanted to rip skin and see blood, to taste the irony, smooth liquid on his lips. After his teeth flashed out Archibald pushed his weight forward and tucked his head, bucking out furiously with his gigantic hind hooves, aiming for the oddly painted stallion’s elbow or forearm. Defensively Archibald moved his head away from possible flying hooves.

Dust surged into the air around him from the dry and caked earth, his white feathers slowly gaining a reddish hue. The sun beat down upon the two, the earth showing signs of Tallsun in the late reaches of Birdsong. Archibald was not keen to the suffocating humidity that Tallsun generally brought in some regions of the land; he much preferred Orangemoon and Birdsong, with their perfect balance between hot and cold.




[WC: 630 | PC: 1/2 | MC: 0/2; Archibald will be using his magic as well as his battle buffs of bulk and swift. | Archibald comes in and stops just a few feet in front of Gaucho. He introduces himself and runs forward on the right side of Gaucho, biting at the end of his rib cage and bucking at his right forearm/shoulder area. Archibald tucks and turns his head away from Guacho's hooves to protect himself from possible kicks. ]

Archibald’s only fighting experience against pegasi was left on the shoulders of his older brother, Wilder, and the things he had seen during the Qian Invasion. His experience with Wilder proved well, though. The dark knight understood that wings were powerful and could even extend harmful blows should they be thrown correctly, and Archibald intended to keep those wings at bay. As an equine, Archibald had no bodily adornment such as a wing or a horn, and part of him wished to rip Gacuho’s wings off just as he had wished to break Leyra’s horn off during their battle. Without wings, pegasi were nothing special, and without horns unicorns were nothing special. Archibald understood that beneath all of the rough exteriors, there was something that unicorns and pegasi took as pride towards their species specific crowns. Archibald wanted to diminish that pride and bring them to the same level as equines. It was odd for Archibald to have these feelings in real life, as they were reserved for the battle field only. He was not racist in the least, regularly, as he spent his life alongside his diverse species family. But, it is said that war changes someone.

Archibald’s charge is accepted, and the winged creature throws his body into the dark knight’s as he passes. The blow is powerful, but Archibald’s mass absorbs it well. A slight grunt puffs from the mouth of the Dauntless before his bite lands successfully, and a quiver of thrill runs through his body. As the Dauntless, like a machine, continues to attack he feels his back hooves land squarely on Gaucho and his face tightens. Matching the timing of the other stallion as best he could, Archibald pivoted his body to stand perpendicular to the bay, watching from narrowed eyes as he rises into a rear. Those wings, the ones Archibald wishes to dismember, rise into the air and strike down powerfully, and Archibald smirks. Archibald sidestepped then, as Gaucho’s hooves came crashing towards him. The Hanoverian’s hooves just scrape along Archibald’s right shoulder, the one marred by Jackal’s dragon fire. Archibald huffed a breath as the primal stallion landed the blow, the pain running down his scarred shoulder. A bruise, the thought, taking in the damage and pushing past the pain, and he continues his momentum to turn to face Gaucho, and lets his smirk widen across his blaze-painted face. With Archibald’s turn, the bay’s teeth scrape across his mane, and Archibald wonders how the bay feels with a mouthful of coarse hair.

Gaucho turns and brings his rear end towards the Dauntless, but the tide changes then. Backing up just a few paces, narrowly missing the buck, Archibald plants his hooves firmly, lifting his head some, mane tossing and forelock covering his pinned ears. Archibald’s golden eyes fall on to Gaucho’s form sadistically, and his magic rushes forward, gripping the stallion before him with all of its might. Archibald had yet to use this gift from the Earth God, so righteously given to him, and he deemed Gaucho a fitting gerbil. The Earth God had given Archibald the ability to turn his opponent’s bones to stone, and the Dauntless grew with the new power. The Earth God had blessed him so greatly in his time here, first with Loretta and his tremor magic, and now with this. It was perfect, in Archibald’s war-driven mind, to use against opponents faster than him. Gaucho was a large stallion, with some bulk, but by nature could outrun the Dauntless easily.

As Archibald’s magic grappled Gaucho the black knight rushed forward, closing the distance between the two. Archibald’s neck stretched out again as he approached on Gaucho’s left side. This time Archibald aimed for his downcast head, hoping to grab onto the bone that pierced his soft nose and diminish the primal pegasus to nothing but a whelp with the pain he caused. If Archibald’s bite was successful, he would pull to the left hard, hoping to rip the bone and Gaucho’s face with him. In the back of his head he could hear Loretta cheering him on, but he could not pinpoint her location. Her encouragement kept him driving, for she wished the same thing as Archibald: to bring pain to this bay at all cost.

The land around them was warm in the infancy of Tallsun, and the sun baked on Archibald’s dark coat. Gently, sweat started to seep through the chest and inner thighs of the Dauntless. The dust the kicked up between the two stole the purity of Archibald’s white feathers. Mildly, Archibald commended this stallion for choosing a good battle ground, with the earth packed hard beneath their feet. His hooves tingled, body aching to send the earth into spasms and throw the already magic-attacked bay off balance.




[WC: 798 | PC: 2/2 | MC: 1/2 | Archibald turns to stand perpendicular to Gaucho and Gaucho kicks Archibald's shoulder and bites a chunk of his mane. Sidestepping, Archibald turns to face Gaucho as he turns his butt towards him and backs up quickly. Archibald then uses his magic, which turns an opponent's bones to stone for 30 seconds. Archibald then runs forward and bites at Gaucho's nose piercing and pulls to the left.]

A wave of pleasure washed over the Dauntless, crashing his body to shiver, despite the growing heat. Archibald was used to the sensation, having toppled many others in battle before. The victory over Birch, Leyra and Romani, however, had not been satisfying in the same manner. In this moment, from the wake of his dethroning, Archibald is thirsty for pain and suffering, and today his thirst was quenched.

Archibald feels the stallion go immobile underneath the powerful grasp of his magic and he smiles sadistically. His pull to the left brings the bone, firmly between his teeth, as well as Gaucho’s head. Opening his jaws and releasing the bone, now only hanging there by a mangled piece of flesh, Archibald curves his neck and head to survey the damage he has done. Blood pools from the wound, the scent like iron filling his pale nostrils. Grunting, Archibald decides against attacking again. He is fulfilled—this primal, bay creature writhes in pain and the Dauntless stands with merely achy muscles and bruises. Tossing his head Archibald turns his body away, his butt now facing Gaucho’s left shoulder, and as Archibald prepares to leave with all of his pride and glory, the pegasus’ wings move and down and wash over Archibald’s scarred and dark rump. Snorting, the Dauntless bucks upwards, nothing but a warning, with no back hooves flashing out to strike. The attack would have been more powerful had the bones, even hollow and light, not been hardened. The weight of Gaucho’s wing leaves his body as he moves his body into a trot, tail flicking behind him as flies swooped in to lunch on his sweaty hide.

“You will not forget this day,” Archibald stops, turning his head over his shoulder to watch Gaucho in his own sweat box, “I am Archibald the Dauntless, master of war.” Archibald repeats his name, voice booming in the open space. Lifting his head towards the sky, Archibald wonders what the God of the Earth is thinking now—was he proud of the things Archibald did, or was he ashamed of gifting the ex-Chief with so much power? Archibald doubted the deity was proud of the pain Archibald dealt, for the master of the Earth was a peaceful and loving creature, compassionate down to his roots. With that fact, known to anyone, why had he gifted Archibald so? Finding the questions trivial, Archibald decided he would venture to the veins. The walk could go well for his aching muscles. Gaucho had quite the power behind him, and the bruises and dusty hoof prints that marred Archibald’s hide were true monuments to show it.

The sun beat down on the giant as he stood with his head tilted towards the sky. Sweat soaked his body, especially his joints that rubbed against other parts of his body. Lowering his head to its normal state, the Dauntless turned his body and trekked away from the battlefield the pegasus had chosen, Loretta running and panting to catch up to him. Neither of them were bred for this heat, it took tolls on their bodies. Loretta was made for the height of winter, he coat thick and water-safe. Archibald fared well in the colder weather as well, his ancestors living in very mild climates. But, the choosing of this battle field was wise, and a small part of Archibald respected the stallion for his efforts.

[WC: 566 | Closing Defense | Archibald releases Gaucho's nose piercing and turns to leave. Gaucho's wings hit his rump and Archibald bucks up in defense and warning, but he does not kick. | Thanks for the spar, Aud! I will be contacting you to go over the spar with my last notes/teachings so we can go back and forth!]