the Rift


Invasion Round Three :: Cluster Three

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#1
You have 72 hours to respond to this round. Before the round is over, HERD LEADS can send cluster change request to the OFFICIAL account.

Further information can be found in the Detailed Rules under the Chaos Style invasion section.

Argetlam has been knocked out due to the player's request, those from his cluster assume dual characters aided in his fainting.
Verenia Rinta has been knocked out by Peixos.
Quilyan has been knocked out by Gaucho.
Ktulu has been knocked out by Ariadne.


Ailith
Tharos
Apollo
Archibald
Midas
Kri

Tharos Posts: 37
Banned atk: 5 | def: 8 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.2 hands :: 9 years old HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Loon
#2


Actions | "Speech" | Thoughts

Tharos's respect for his opponents incinerated when they refused to acknowledge his customs. He had attempted to treat them with honor and had been spat on. A rage unlike any the grullo mutt had felt before boiled over inside the stallions heart and he vowed silently to make them all pay for their ignorance. However, he had not the time to act on this rage, because, as he moved forwards to make his move for Midas, a chocolate-hued blur tried to barrel into his side from the skies. Thankfully, he had moved fast enough to avoid the brunt of the dive-bombing mare, but he was still knocked off balance by a glancing blow to his hip, and also the sudden quakes of the earth below his hooves. Tharos was further sent rolling by a blow of Apollo's hooves into his side.

The force of it, while not as damaging as it could have been, still knocked the stallion off his feet and sent the stud rolling over towards Ailith. Getting to his hooves quickly, Tharos stood back to back with his herdmate (or side to side, just facing opposite directions) and he tilted his ears back to catch her words as she spat venom at the large draft she had been fighting. He looked back over his shoulder at her and gave a nod. "These ain't but lawless rogues, ma'am. We can take'em. I got yer back if'n you got mine." He snorted before turning his attention back to the two he was battling with. The chocolate chestnut mare who had joined in on the offense had replaced the gold-tinted pegasus who was now focusing on Ailith. Pain throbbed through the grullo's many bruises and scrapes, and it was limiting to his movement, but the stud tried to ignore them. Giving purchase to his agony would only endanger his life even more than it already was.

Discouraged by how hopelessly outnumbered they seemed, Tharos's heart lifted as his attacks found some Targets. Broken or not, Tharos knew the Overo Unicorn would have a sore neck tomorrow, and that the pulled muscles in his most important body part would inhibit his movements even more than what Tharos's wounds wanted to do to him. However much the painted draft blood wanted to attack back, he realized he had been placed on the defensive. At least now with Ailith at his back, the stallion could concentrate on defending his front and maybe getting a few hits in.

Rearing back on his hind legs, the stallion struck out with his hooves and snaked his neck forwards, trying to hit at Apollo with his hooves, or bite the painted stallion with his teeth. He needed to come up with a better idea for how to get Kri out of the air, but his mind was concentrating on attacking Apollo and it was hard to think straight when your brain was filled with a combination of intense pain and smoldering rage. However, the more pressing matter was Archibald. The Tank was turning his battle partner into mincemeat and Tharos had to do something about him.

And so, Since his hindlegs were already facing the black Goliath, Tharos gathered up his legs to his stomach and bucked out, hoping to find purchase in any part of Archibald's body that his hooves could reach. At the same moment, He felt Ailith leave his side and go in for another attack, circling around the tank and making a move to viciously attack his hindquarters. Tharos did not buck once or twice but several times, making it very likely that his hooves would hit Archibald more often than they would miss, and also keeping his attention front ways so as to give Ailith a chance.

625
Chaos Invasion
Attacks: Tries to rear up and strike at APOLLO from where he stands now at AILITH's side. Also, snakes his neck forwards to bite at APOLLO. Then gathers up his hindlegs and while Ailith moves around to attack him from behind, Tharos bucks out several times at ARCHIBALD, Bronco-style, to keep the giant's attention on him.
Defense: Avoids the brunt of KRI's dive bomb by moving forwards, but is hit in the hip by her wing, and is knocked off his hooves by MIDAS's earthquake and rolled away from all three of them with APOLLO's kick to his side.
Injuries: Bruised side from being kicked by APOLLO, sore withers from the beating MIDAS gave him at the start, cuts on his back from MIDAS's wings, and a sore hip from being crashed into by KRI.

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
#3

Archibald felt his hooves strike against AILITH’s right fore-elbow, hearing the breath rip from her lungs once more. Perfect. Gathering his hind legs back underneath him, the tank moved forwards and circled wide out to the right, turning back to face AILITH perpendicularly. The muscles that were bruised from her strikes at him pulled uncomfortably against his will, but the pain would pass in time. These injuries were nothing for the Dauntless to fret over. They were mere dwarves compared to the giant scars that ripped across his body from Dei’s fire—now those had been catastrophic wounds. The warlord’s mind flashed with memories of distant battles, watching as AILITH moved like a mixture between Smoke the Wildrose and Locket. “I am a warlord, princess, this is what I do.” Archibald spat at her, voice dripping with venom. All of the malice that Mandrake drove into his heart and all of the power he had built on his own bursting forth onto the battlefield. Archibald cared little for this mare’s words—she was soft and sad and broken, and the Dauntless had made her so. In this moment, he was victorious. He was raised to be a machine of war, a murderer, a guillotine. The draft had grown to be a powerful one; the truth of his power was unquestionable at this point. Mandrake did not raise him to feel things, like compassion, but only raised him to wield power and glory. He was becoming what he was bred and raised to be. Archibald was Mandrake’s perfect soldier.

In a moment, AILITH moved and another came barreling towards them. Snorting, Archibald focused on AILITH’s movements. Her jaws opened wide and she came, aiming a bite for his left side. As quickly as he could, the Dauntless shifted his weight back and bent his hind legs, making it easier to strike out furiously at her own shifting forelegs, attempting to strike anywhere on either leg. His feathers danced wildly as his hooves struck, his thick legs propelling them with enough strength to break bones. He knew he could break bones, for he had done it so easily in the past. He had struck down Roanne the Sentinel, a stallion equipped with much thicker legs than AILITH, and he had crushed the skull of Svetlana the Stormchaser. His hooves were powerful weapons of mass destruction. As she neared her neck flew out, her teeth meeting his thick own neck. Unlike her other bites, this one was relentless and powerful. Hair and skin ripped from his body, and he sucked in a breath as pain filled his eyes. Rapidly, the Dauntless struck, his neck arching towards AILITH to propel his open jaws for her left side, not exactly knowing where his bite would land because of her forward momentum. Archibald then repeated himself, focusing his weight on his front end to lift his hind end and buck out at the passing AILITH, hoping to strike her with his powerful hooves once more. His target was just as vague as his bite, and he would be pleased if they made purchase no matter the area. He did not need a bull’s-eye for these attacks to be successful.

The sand arrowheads went unnoticed by the Dauntless as he landed all of his hooves on the grass, for his attention was drawn up to THAROS, the grullo that had barreled towards them, as he flailed wildly. The grullo stallion’s hooves, which Archibald had predicted were aimed at his long gone positioning, struck nothing but air. The Dauntless could have laughed deeply at the grullo’s idiocy, but instead he flashed and image of the flailing brute to Loretta. Eyes flicking to Loretta, the malamute leapt forward. Her jaws opened and she snarled viciously, sending her magic spiraling towards the grullo stallion like she had done to AILITH. The invisible tendrils reached and grasped, fingers twisting to rip the stallion back in time. She hoped to pull him into infancy, just as she had AILITH at the begging of the battle, and Die during Jackal’s challenge to Archibald. AILITH and Dei had both fallen confused, like newborns underneath her power. Loretta sent images of what she could see to Archibald—Kri and Apollo—the stallion’s other targets. Snorting, Archibald flicked his ears slick back and turned his head to search out AILITH once more. His neck throbbed, a warm sting that tried to pull his attention away from battle. No. Archibald was a warlord, a machine, and he did not fuss over flesh wounds. He knew the wound was bleeding, but it was not rapidly gushing. In fact, the blood was not even pooling out of him. Blood was thick, and it painted his dark hair even darker around the wound itself, but it did not trickle down just yet.

Archibald’s muscles were tight, body ready to react. As he focused on AILITH, anticipating her coming attacks, or lack thereof, the sun raised high above them. The ground beneath his hooves was dry, the dew sucked into oblivion. The Foothills terrain was a good battlefield, though only in the dry months. The last time he had battled on this soil it was a mud trap. Smirking, Archibald slammed his left forehoof into the hard ground underneath him, sending powerful tremors radiating out in all directions, hoping to know those on the ground off balance, particularly THAROS and AILITH


[WC: 900 | Buffs: Endure and Swift | Magic: 2/2 | Companion: 2/2 | Attacking: AILITH and THAROS | Summary: Archibald moves to circle and face Ailith perpendicularity after he kicked her elbows. When she advances him, he kicks at her front legs with his own front legs. In her passing, she bites his neck. He then strikes out with his own bite, but does not know where it would land because of her movements. He presses his hips into her and kicks out his back legs, again with vague aim because of her movements. Loretta uses her magic against Tharos to turn him mentally into an infant. Archibald uses his tremor magic to shake the earth and throw anyone he can off balance.]

ARCHIBALD
The world is a scary place
Now that you've woken up the demon in me

Image Credits


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
Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
#4
Honor had a place on this battle field, you held your honor by hosting a good fight; and struggling for a reason that was believed to speak justice. Some fought for their pride, others for a chance to start anew. You showed mercy and respect to worthy warriors; honoring their strength and courage with blood and sweat. I watched without sympathy as the stallion THAROS fell to the ground, beaten and bruised from all sides. Utter chaos is still happening around us, but for a moment I find a brief second of relief. Earth magic had prevailed when coupled with help from brethren. It’s a false emotion though, apparently we weren’t the only thick skulled warriors fighting today.

The oversized mutt draft moved to rise, turning toward the mare I had struck with my arrows moments ago. He sought her side like a suckling babe not yet weaned from mother’s milk. My dry lips curl back with a snarl of frustration vibrating through me. Did this fool honestly not know when to just stay down? Why wouldn’t he shut up and stop? My questions wouldn’t receive an answer and he apparently didn’t know when to stop. Because the moment THAROS was up he started pressing offense again. By now our day had fully begun, the night sky was faded and warmth caused my skin beneath this armor to heat up like boiling water. Beads of sweat pooled between withers and across my stomach; rising temperatures did nothing to improve my mood and THAROS certainly wasn’t helping.

Wings fold inward toward my barrow, when air stopped moving past feathers to keep this body aloft. I fall forward in a rapid descent just as THAROS starts to buck at ARCHIBALD. The ground approached and my limbs extend to absorb the shock of impact. Wings extend at the last possible second to buffer the blow that could be received from a rough landing. Which thankfully again prevented me from becoming a red stain of unrecognizable mush. The ground seems to pivot when I finally touch down, golden dagger shred the soil and grasses that lay beneath my onslaught. My direction is aimed for THAROS and his exposed side that was hopefully unguarded by all the flailing he was doing. Purposely I tuck head towards throatlatch, armored shoulders tense beneath my steel in readiness for this much slighter bulk to hit at the front half of THAROS’S barrel in a passing charge attempt.

Hopefully I would shove this idiot aside and slice that fat head open in the process. For in the same instance of my charge, feathers open—their primary blades shinning in the sun. Right appendage opens at an angle, craving the chance to sideswipe THAROS and feel the sticky sweetness of blood once again. I was going to shut this fool down, or die trying. There was no reason for this mongrel to still be standing, firmly and assertively I strike.

Word count:: 490

Buffs:: Endure

Magic:: (2,2)

Summary:: Dives down and lands, charges for THAROS'S front half, attempts at butting him in the shoulder or anything slightly ahead and behind. Right wing is extended to swipe his neck/head/chest in passing.


[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Kri the Resolute Posts: 243
Hidden Account
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3hh :: 10 Buff: NUMB
Boom Boom!
#5

speak of all the love we lost and what it cost us</style>
left us to beg our breath would stop, but we kept on</style>
AND WE WERE STRONG.</style>

The slam of my knees into his hip, I felt it clearly. I was surprised by his speed, considering his stupid ass had just been standing one leg up in the air like a flag waving for me to knock him down. He swiftly adjusts so that my aim falls short, smacking heavily into his side and sending him careening outward, an ugly stumble of a gait. My own body shakes with the impact, my feathers shivering in the early morning air like leaves in the wind. The shockwaves of a crushing force which sends pain in my bones as well. Still, I would hate to think how that magnified in his own body. I hope it hurts.

I cannot tell in the jarring sensation covering my entire body if my teeth had made impact, or if the vibration in my jaw is just a deflection of the quivers originating in my knees. I do not have time to think about this. For, just as soon as I had made impact with the brute, I was scrambling with my wings, clawing upward, trying to tear out of the range of his blasted hooves in case he decides to kick them upward at my gut. Thankfully, Midas has sent the earth after the ass of the idiot, and I see the large draft stumble under the quaking earth that cannot touch me. In the air, I am unaffected by the land.

I am master here, for I control the wind. I pull the strings, decide its path and its speed. In the air, I am invincible.

I continue straight and upward, the wind pushing gently at my back even as the sun obscures me from the eyes of those in front of me. I rise, gliding easily upward and I begin to curve. I soar up and over, the sun greeting my dark eyes painfully even as it continues to rise as I do. Then, in one easy, fluid motion, I am headed back down, my eyes scanning the terrain for possible targets as the wind snaps violently at the gashes on my back legs. I breathe easy, for this invasion has been easier for me than others. Here in the sky, I am safe from most attacks, and it seems that our opponents are not familiar with the magic of old blood. Those who have been within the borders of Helovia long are almost certain to have magic, and these whelps seem to have a decided lack of it. A pity for them, for the weak ground-bound maggots are having a difficult time reaching me here in the safe loft of the air.

Perhaps it is cowardly to hang in the sky as I am, but I have just witnessed my ally control the ground and make it unstable. I would rather not wrestle for footing when I can navigate much more easily here in the air. The groaning of the earth begins again, and I see that our two defenders have come to stick close to one another. In response, I begin to hover, my eyes focusing in on AILITH and THAROS, releasing my magic into the air surrounding them. Invisible yet dangerous, the air begins to weigh down more heavily. I push, trying to increase the pressure to squeeze their wounds with the invisible grip of the air. They have fought valiantly, but I was getting tired of the foolish attempts to conquer those who have clearly outnumbered and outpowered them. Perhaps, if I am able to squeeze the air from their lungs, they will simply passout and save ARCHIBALD the trouble of conking them over the head.

Still, if I have learned anything during my time in battle, it is that the foolish have an impossible amount of luck. I hope it runs out today.
""

[ WC: 670; Magic: 1/4

Kri uses her wind pressure magic on THAROS and AILITH during the quaking of the earth. ]


KRI the RESOLUTE</style>
MY FRIENDS, I'M ONLY FLESH AND BONE, BUT I WON'T LET YOU DIE ALONE.</style>

image by vinothchandar @ flickr.com

Apollo the Merciful Posts: 251
Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 11 HP: 63.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zola :: Black Cat :: None Sparrow
#6

"It gives me strength to have somebody to fight for;



Feeling his blow collide with its intended target, Apollo allowed a smirk to pull at his lips as his rear hooves came back to the ground, the sound of his weight muffled by the dense vegetation that was the Foothills. Bracing his rear haunches then, the stallion whirled around to the right, watching as THAROS was thrown off balance by himself, Kri, and the quaking earth used by Midas. The quakes in the earth caused Apollo’s form to falter, however, and his hooves scrabbled slightly for purchase for a few moments before the black and white Paint found balance. It was a team effort, but that didn’t mean it was yet over… Hopefully, however, THAROS would now understand the seriousness of the situation.

This wasn’t a game; it was war. In war, one didn’t have time for leisurely ‘breaks’ or moments to make chit-chat with your opponents. If THAROS was a warrior in his past, he was a poor one at that, and that was coming from someone who had refrained from fighting unless his life depended on it. By nature, Apollo was a gentle creature… He preferred to help and heal others rather than inflict pain and kill. It was times like this, however, fighting for his family and those that he loved that he found those morals flying out the window. For now, he would do what it took, even if that meant sticking his horn into THAROS’ flesh for a kill. Apollo gave a snort, the pain in his neck a constant reminder that he would need to plan his next attack carefully. The black and white overo watched with uncaring eyes as THAROS rolled head over tail and came to a stop beside AILITH. The grullo mutt pulled himself to his feet, preparing himself for battle once more, and that’s when Apollo made his next charge, albeit slower than his previous ones.

Pulling his weight together and inhaling sharply, Apollo pushed off the ground with his rear haunches, forehooves coming off the earth for the briefest of moments before he found himself barreling towards his opponent. Once more, ears tipped backwards, teeth gnashing, and Apollo slid to a stop before THAROS, bracing his weight upon his rear legs. Pushing himself into his own rear to meet THAROS’ head-on, Apollo lashed out with his forelegs, the sharp dagger of his hooves aiming to strike at THAROS’ head.

In the midst of his rear, Apollo felt THAROS’ teeth latch onto the high crest of his cheekbone, ripping away hair and skin. A rivulet of blood trickled down his cheek, and despite the pain it caused, the wound was trivial. It wasn’t near as bad as the wound that Apollo hoped to inflict upon his opponent in the next few moments… Landing roughly upon the ground, the unicorn tucked his head close to his chest. Hopefully that would pull him from the path of THAROS’ thrashing hooves. Just then, Apollo lashed out, aiming his horn at the sinewy tendons of THAROS’ neck. If THAROS happened to move out of the way, the stallion hoped he could at least land a scratch or two upon the grullo’s chest. He wanted his opponent to bleed, to feel the Grey’s wrath, for fighting for a hopeless cause…

Couldn’t this fool see that they had no hope? Their leader had abandoned them! The Foothills was condemned to failure before the fight even started. It would have been easier on everyone if they had simply given up peacefully.

[Wordcount: 582. Attacking: THAROS.
Summary: Apollo charges THAROS and rears up, aiming to smack him in the head with his hooves. Apollo takes a bite to the cheek, then tries to gouge his horn into THAROS’ neck/chest area.]



I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill."





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