the Rift


[JUDGED] Teach me your best moves. [Training Spar, Deimos]

Arah Posts: 343
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Wynter :: Royal Griffin :: Draining Clutch Frostie
#1

A r a h

It's not the dog in the fight,
but the fight in the dog




The early morning sun had risen over the mountains. It wasn't the break of dawn but it was still early, only the early birds and a certain young mare was awake. She was tense, knowing just how serious the tension between her herd and another was. Being in a position with a little power, you often knew things you'd rather remain ignorant too until you really did have to know what was going on. Arah had decided a while ago that she wanted to learn how to fight, she was sick of being helpless and a damsel in distress. She wanted to kick some serious booty in her time. So what better way to start then by asking a random for help.

She was nervous, not just she had never been in a one on one spar before. But because she didn't know anybody that could help her. But hey, she had taken on the monster bear that belonged to The Sun God. So how hard could this be? Sucking in a deep breath she collected her nerves and shoved them to the back the back of her chest. It wasn't like this was going to be a real battle! She was simply going to find a teacher and she was going to learn how to spar. Should it come to a battle between The Throat and The Basin, Arah would be there to defend her home. She looked around The Basin for any passing unicorns that could teach her a thing or two about battling. Nobody appeared. Then again, she was the strange unicorn with antlers instead of a horn, she may know a lot of people but others went out of their way to avoid her. "Would anybody be able to teach me how to fight?" She asked at random. Maybe somebody, she didn't care who, would step up to her and help her out.

Word Count;; 317 [opening post]
Setting;; Aurora Basin, early morning.
Type;; Training match
Rounds;; 3 rounds + Closing defense
Others;; Magic/companion allowed. Arah doesn't have either.
Count Max;; 800 words
Notes;; Hope I set it out right. Feel free to add or take rounds.


[Image: 2ng9df4.png]
Thy-Darkest-Hour.deviantart.com | Breathless-dk.deviantart.com

And I ain't afraid to die, I’m afraid of going to hell.

✽ Force and magic permitted. ✽
✽ No fatal or permanent damage. ✽
✽ Please only tag in opening posts. ✽

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#2


There was always temptation for the heat of battle, for the drive to assault, for the yearning to annihilate. The conditions were not adequately met, however, when one was training their own kin. There was some matter of scolding when a creature bludgeoned their brethren, scalding, scarring, and searing the foundation of their bones, their souls, or their existence. Disapproval rang high when one executed a member of their herd. It spoke of one of his few virtues, loyalty, when his sparring partners did not come back to the herd land crippled, beaten and broken. There were other moments where he was (secretly) pleased that some of the ignorant individuals wished to become more acquainted with the art of war, to dip themselves into the paint, the canvas, of a masterpiece’s bloody tapestry, inked with the resonation of drums, growls and screams. To step onto a theater of war without learning one’s lines was a hindrance, weak and foolish, and the very fact that someone, this murmuring, bubbling fool in the distance, was eager to practice their power encouraged the demon to accompany their performance. A leader of warriors must apply his skills to others, had to recommend precise movements, tactics, strategies, so when they drove conquest into the hearts of enemies, it was not defeat they saw, but victory.

He followed the trace of her scent, only a brief familiarity crossing his mind (her name still escaped him, much like everyone else’s), the whim of her pleading voice, and the echoing throngs of chaotic doldrums humming in his ear. Undulating, coiling, taut muscles streamlined through forest, through brush, through valley and springs, decadence poured from the layers of menace and malice, aligned to the cruel fixation of assaults, assailments, tragedy in the haunting outcry of combatants. Deimos stepped from amongst the shadows, blending into the early morning’s threads of dawn and hollowed bits of darkness, scattering the last remaining pleasantries of singsong birds and chattering fauna. Monster, behemoth, General, stared upon her, and grumbled his agreement to her request. “Your move.”


[0/3 (setup). 0/1 magic used. 342 words.
Sorry this took forever. I’ll provide commentary/hints/tips etc. after your first move. Happy sparring!]





Arah Posts: 343
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Wynter :: Royal Griffin :: Draining Clutch Frostie
#3

A r a h

It's not the dog in the fight,
but the fight in the dog




Waiting, waiting. Should she call out again in case nobody had heard her? Shuffling her feet, the Impersonator decided to wait for a few more moments. Her waiting paid off, she only stood there for a few more seconds before the sound of footfalls reached her ears. He approached from the side and she watched him curious as to if he was going to accept. He spoke to her, telling her it was her move, she nodded and passed a "Thank you." The the general of The Basin, well then, this was going to be interesting. She weighed her odds, he was taller than her, stronger than her. Not to mention the fact that he was most definitely, extremely more skilled than her. However now was not the time to be nervous, it was time to look danger in the eye and say come on then! So she did, positioning herself directly in front of him she dipped her head a little and pondered her next move. Where should she aim, somewhere that would do a lot of damage, but at the same time would be easy to block or doge any attack her threw at her. With her horn positioned directly on Arah wasted on more breath in talking. It was her move, he didn't need her to speak any more either.

With her head still dipped she picked up a trot which quickly morphed into canter. Her antlers were positioned, aiming for the left hand side of his chest. She wanted a direct hit, and her aim was true although she did not doubt that Deimous would block it or at least be able to protect himself from most of the damage. She did not let this pause her attack though, she was making her move and was being quick about it. She didn't want him thinking of her as weak or cowardly. She was only a short distance away now so she dropped her head more and continued in her run towards his chest. Digging her hooves into the snow, she hoped to slow down her speed just a little before she hit her target. Ears pinned back and a smirk on her face Arah charged towards her target.

Word Count;; 373/800 [1/3 posts | 0/1 Closing defence post.]
Summarised attack;; Charges towards Deimous' left hand side of the chest, hoping to ram him with her antlers.
Notes;; Eek, sorry about the wait. <3


[Image: 2ng9df4.png]
Thy-Darkest-Hour.deviantart.com | Breathless-dk.deviantart.com

And I ain't afraid to die, I’m afraid of going to hell.

✽ Force and magic permitted. ✽
✽ No fatal or permanent damage. ✽
✽ Please only tag in opening posts. ✽

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#4


Deimos’s recent battle with their Thief, Faelene, had forced him into more restraint, more control and more composure. This was not a real battlefield, and he wasn’t allotted his primordial, arcane abhorrence, his slithering, sinuous loathing, his feverish ferocity or his barbaric brutality. Upon the dais of conflict and combat, he wouldn’t be striking against a herd mate, wouldn’t be aiming to assault or siege a loyal member of his brethren. He wouldn’t be designating his contempt, his malice or menace across a comrade’s spine, along their carcass, into their hollowed, hallowed tomb. Yet, here, in these passing moments, he was imposed to conform these callous, heartless sentiments into nuances of mere practice, rehearsal for a larger stage. He wasn’t one to recite miniscule motions, small, minute nips and bites; he lived for the damage, the obliteration and the annihilation of cretins, fools and inferior beings. He’d been gifted with the talent to deny the life of another, and he’d been granted and bestowed the oeuvre, the opus, of devastation and ruin. To shape these calculating torrents, these hostile, hazardous flames, into lenient, mild and humane motions was an offering he didn’t grant often. Faelene had rendered him the opportunity to carve and test tolerance, and this mare enacted the same deliverance – how he deciphered and used the occasion would be a spelling of his loyalty, allegiance and self-possession.

The monster wasn’t aware of this mare’s talents as a warrior, and the likelihood of her lacking in this region was probably the reason he’d been summoned. She was smaller than he, but appeared sturdy, athletic and limber, adept at turning quickly, capable of giving into swifter designs than he. It would be interesting to see how she enacted these advantages; he learned from each and every opponent he faced, and though he recalled the inexperience of Faelene, he also remembered the unsettling rounds with Ricochet, the bloody, savage battle with Lace, the bids of invasion and war. She’d learn from him, press upon his body like a marionette, but what would she bring out within him? What would he bring out within her? What could he spur in her: to drive onslaughts of terror into their enemies, to maim their foe, slaughter their adversaries? What could she compel in his ruthless convictions, in his merciless decrees, in his calculating, precise upheavals?

She started, and his mind churned to the surrounding world, the Basin, the ice, the rime, the chill, summoned to the depths of desecration and destruction. Her charge was quick, rapid, lowering her head full of points, daggers masquerading as antlers, cervine. They aimed for the left side of his muscled chest, so he swerved to the right, attempting to withdraw from the heat of cumbersome damage. Instead of his chest, some of the antlers struck against his left shoulder, streaking across, leaving bright, brilliant rivulets against dark skin. Pewter hair flew into the wind, tiny dabbles of blood caressed along the muscle, and the binding nuance of pain molded into the core of his cranium. A nuisance, to be assailed so early. Then, his opportunity laid in wait. From his right divergence, he swiveled back towards the left, hoping to catch her as she drifted by him in her hasty, swift motions. He yearned to use his own mass, his own weight, his own muscled bulk to flourish into her left hand side, force, ram, a driving wake to her smaller form. Trying to ignore the newfound ache in his shoulder, he brandished his movements towards her, to crash, to collide, to wreck. Would she fall, flail, break into pieces, scatter to the winds? Would she posture a way to stay upright? Towering over her, he also tried to bring his ivories along her mobile form, hoping to scatter teeth along her spine in small nips.

[1/3 posts. 638 words. 0/1 magic used.
Deimos swerves to the left to avoid too much damage from Arah’s antlers. The antlers end up scratching along his left shoulder, taking off hair and leaving a little blood. Despite this new pain, Deimos uses this opportunity to come back towards Arah, hoping to force his bulk into her left side. Due to his height, he also tries to nip her spine as she goes by.]





[OOC Commentary: Thank you Frostie for allowing me the opportunity to practice with you and share my (limited) knowledge of fighting with you. It takes motivation and the will to learn to want to continue getting better. ☺

Your post was very straightforward. I knew Arah’s positioning (thank you, thank you, thank you – I can’t say enough how much directions need to be emphasized and used), and where she was heading. You didn’t powerplay. You didn’t god mode or tell me how my character was feeling. I appreciate that wholeheartedly. You also attempted to judge the height/weight differences between the two characters, which are essential for how you intend to play out strengths/weaknesses regarding those elements.

However, the post overall was a bit lackluster. I found myself still wondering over Arah’s motivations and emotions. You touched upon them briefly in the opening post, but unfortunately, that won’t be counted as far as the fight. Don’t be afraid to reemphasize why she’s here and what she would like to accomplish. It helps the other roleplayer out a great deal more when we have an idea of what you want to do with your character.

Think of some of these to prompt/inspire: Why does she want to get better? What spurns her towards fighting? Why does she want to improve? How does she feel about the spar or the character she’s skirmishing with? Is she afraid, hesitant, nervous? Does she feel bold, audacious, ready to take on the world and conquer her foes? Has she had any past fights that lead her to this one? How has she changed since then?

You have plenty of words to work with. Fill out your writing, don’t leave it dry and bare-boned. We’re graded for not only our battle mechanics, but also the emotions in our characters. I struggle with the same thing, since Deimos is perhaps one of the most emotionless beings on Helovia, but I still try to manage a way to have him come across as real. In battles, a character strives for something: survival, dominance, supremacy, etc. Mull it over and figure out what Arah truly wants to accomplish.

I thought the attack was fine, simple and concise. She doesn’t want him believing she’s a coward, so she attacks him head-on. The only part that confused me was this: She wanted a direct hit, and her aim was true although she did not doubt that Deimous would block it or at least be able to protect himself from most of the damage... She wanted a direct hit, but figured Deimos would block it? Why would you aim for a spot that you know would be easy to guard or defend? I think it’s just a case of awkward phrasing, but you should definitely proofread over your posts. There are some misspellings (yikes – Deimos isn’t Deimous ;D) and some strange phrasing. Don’t be in a rush. Relax, read over your posts. If it sounds funky or clunky to you, then change it.

I look forward to seeing how Arah defends herself and her new attacks. :D If you have any questions/concerns, please don’t hesitate to ask over PM. Thank you!]

Arah Posts: 343
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Wynter :: Royal Griffin :: Draining Clutch Frostie
#5

A r a h

It's not the dog in the fight,
but the fight in the dog



Her antlers made contact but he managed to avoid a lot of damage from them by swerving. Still, a cruel feeling of satisfaction swirled in her momentarily, hoping the slice her antlers had made would sting him for a while yet. It was gone in an instant through when his bulk slammed into her, and her reflects kicked in. To avoid toppling, she dug her front hooves into the dirt and snow, then locked her lower joints in. Her bulk still stumbled, however she managed to stay up right and strong in her defence to his shove. Her front stayed facing his left hand side, while she slid her rear around with the force from the shove. Out of the corner of her eye, she had saw him coming down towards her spine a little too late. There was not much she could do except to keep the momentum going and try to get out of the bite's way as much as possible. Panic surged through her as she knew she would not make it. In the end she had to choose between stumbling more and risk falling over or taking the bite. She chose to take the bite. His teeth sank into her skin, but with the speed that she was going he was not able to get in too deep. A sharp pain formed around her spine, as the doe tried to pull away as fast as possible, resulting in her flesh tearing away with the nip.

It was only a medium nip, but it still caused Arah pain moments after it had happened. Swallowing back her pain and fear though, she tried to clear her pain clouded thoughts and battle on. Her injuries where now pain from where he had crashed into her side, bruising her entire side, and the nip on her back. Nothing she couldn't handle. She had now ended up, after swinging her body away to avoid most of his shove, facing Deimos' left hand side. She decided to take a risk then. She was trying to think logically in a very short amount of time, fearing if she lingered too long he would get another attack in. As blood seeped into her coat from the nip Deimos had given her, the white mare spun her body around so her rear was facing him. Her line of thought was that her kicks were her strongest attack this close to the target. A rear would normally be fairly strong, but against Deimos' size and bulk she did not think that it would do much good. So instead she had gone with a buck, thinking that at her level this was where she would cause the most damage. Now her back legs where facing his left hand side, his ribs were on display ready to meet her hooves. A broken rib would most definitely hinder him greatly through out the rest of the battle.

Using her smaller height to her advantage, she did not raise her rear too high. Being so close to him would also make her attack much more lethal. She aimed for the middle of his chest, heart pounding and brain working furiously as she tired her best to make her aim spot on. She bunched all of her muscles in, balancing for a slit second on her front legs. Then with all the power and energy she could muster she released her legs, toward's Deimous' ribs. She put everything she could into the kick, it was as if the entire world had gone silent in this moment. All she could hear was her heart pounding and blood rushing through her body. She prayed that she ended up doing a little more damage this time, she wanted to level the playing field as much as possible.

Word Count;; 633/800 [2/3 posts | 0/1 Closing defence post.]
Summarised attack;; Turns around so her rear is facing Deimos' ribs, where she then bucks/kicks out towards him. She hopes to hurts his ribs enough to hinder him in the battle.
Notes;; 100th Arah post goes to you! <3

I wasn't sure if this; 'His teeth sank into her skin, but with the speed that she was going he was not able to get in too deep. A sharp pain formed around her spine, as the doe tried to pull away as fast as possible, resulting in her flesh tearing away with the nip. ' was power playing? I tired not to over do it, but I want to describe what happened to Arah during this part of the battle?


[Image: 2ng9df4.png]
Thy-Darkest-Hour.deviantart.com | Breathless-dk.deviantart.com

And I ain't afraid to die, I’m afraid of going to hell.

✽ Force and magic permitted. ✽
✽ No fatal or permanent damage. ✽
✽ Please only tag in opening posts. ✽

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#6


Restraint poured into his movements and motions, compelled by the armaments of comrades, of brethren, of kindred spirits, flickering, igniting, kindling against his inherent, rapier sentiments. It breathed in rapacious, hedonistic sovereignty, coiled and rippled against his core – for what if one speck of power drowned her in the wake of his puissance? What if one fiendish touch left her lying upon the floor, anointed and christened by death? What if one demonic blow chained her to the ground, in scattered, broken, weary pieces? Every gesture he made had to be conscientious, diligent, scrupulous, and his cold, calculating mind poured over the rampant shifting, the passage of daggers, struggling to find weaknesses without enacting upon them. It was a privilege for her to not to encased in his full fury, in the raw, biting ferocity of his burning animosity, of his vehement raptures, of his battleground crusades, the satanic compositions of his treachery. His responsibilities greatly outnumbered hers, and he was constantly reminded of this juxtaposition as she advanced her next assault towards his frame. She need not fear for her marks, her sieges, her attacks along his body, but he paid for every single one tarnished upon hers.

Her kick was launched towards his maneuvering frame, the left side of his ribcage. Speed hampered by the smarting ache in his left shoulder, he shifted forward enough, a brief snippet of speed, for his left haunch to feel the encounter of her flying hooves. The impact bloomed into a nagging, devilish ache, but the motions had protected his much more precious ribs, a crack, a break, within those bones would be more than a hindrance; his motions would had to have ceased altogether. A snort quelled throughout his nares, flew into the vapor, marking, pinpointing his frustrations. Were this another enemy he could have damned them across the void, watched them fall, begging for mercy, weeping for forgiveness; but it was a herd mate, and he’d be punished for his wickedness.

Instead, he swiveled closer, not fast, not swift, aching injuries curbing the rapid deliverance of his movements, and orchestrated the crooning depths of his silent munitions. The iniquitous invocations, the savage spells, the dark, tainted malevolence of his violence pulsed from his limbs, slunk in sinuous, serpentine motions. It slid over ice and rime, begging to be collected at the mare’s feet, longing to impact her actions and activity, bring her energy back to their creator. They brewed in unsung warning, a vicious, virulent haze that promised far more power than he’d uttered here; Arah was given a mere, slender dose of his toxic, poisonous enchantments – it would not spell her demise, it would not diminish her breath, it would not grasp her heart and cease its beating. But, perhaps, it would instill an omen of the augured battlefields, of what she could see, of what she could feel, of the pain, the misery, the ailments she longed to encounter.


[491 words. 2/3 posts. 1/1 magic used.
Deimos moves forward enough to avoid Arah’s kick towards his ribcage, but they manage to hit his left haunch. His left side aching, he aims to move closer to her, but doesn’t instill any fiendish attack. Instead, he aims his deadly magic towards her body in hopes that he frames a warning and manages to sap some of her energy (thereby taking some for himself).]






[OOC Commentary: Woohoo! Another battle post over!

To answer your previous question, no, I wouldn’t consider 'His teeth sank into her skin, but with the speed that she was going he was not able to get in too deep. A sharp pain formed around her spine, as the doe tried to pull away as fast as possible, resulting in her flesh tearing away with the nip. ' powerplaying. You’re describing what happened to her after his attack and her injuries. You’re not telling someone that their character is injured due to your assault or something of that nature.

For example, I consider this to be powerplaying: Arah launched into Deimos’s side and ripped a chunk of his flesh out. Can you see why that’s considered powerplaying? You become the dictator of your character and someone else’s, and that’s a huge no-no. What you’ve done is simply mapped over what happened to Arah, and that’s entirely acceptable and what the judge wants.

Now, to your current post.

You did a wonderful job outlining her pain. This is a huge factor for me as well, because sometimes we just get on a roll and we forget where our characters previously encountered some aches and pains and how this could affect them in battle. Be sure to regard this in your next posts as well to continue with consistency.

There were a couple things that confused me. One was this line: To avoid toppling, she dug her front hooves into the dirt and snow, then locked her lower joints in. Technically, yes, horses can lock their lower joints, but that’s typically used for sleeping and when they’re standing idle. In this case it would have made more sense to flesh out your details, because for a moment, I wasn’t sure what she was locking into. The snow? The slush? Something like “braced her legs for impact by widening her stance" would be much more vivid and appropriate.

The attack itself had me perplexed for a moment because of your use of “rear”. Words often have multiple meanings, and unfortunately, I dragged myself down into the notion that she was “rearing” instead of it being her “rear-end”. So I tilted my head when she was kicking and rearing, and then it finally clicked in after some re-reads. But you don’t want to confuse your reader. Make it simple, make it concrete. You can say “hind” instead of rear just to make your post that much more clearer. If I have to stumble around in confusion, I’m a sad, rattled roleplayer.

I was also flummoxed as far as where Arah was attacking. You state: Using her smaller height to her advantage, she did not raise her rear too high. Being so close to him would also make her attack much more lethal. She aimed for the middle of his chest, heart pounding and brain working furiously as she tired her best to make her aim spot on. She bunched all of her muscles in, balancing for a slit second on her front legs. Then with all the power and energy she could muster she released her legs, toward's Deimous' ribs. She put everything she could into the kick, it was as if the entire world had gone silent in this moment. All she could hear was her heart pounding and blood rushing through her body. But – a horse’s ribs are not in their chest. They’re not built like you and I. The ribs are located more into the barrel. While I used your summary for guidance and noticed that you still wanted his ribs impacted, your post stated that you were aiming for his chest.

You really, really, really need to proofread as well. I encountered some words like “reflects” for reflexes, “where” for were, etc. After a while, some of these mistakes just ensue more confusion, and you don’t want anyone left perplexed, especially a judge. Take your time, don’t rush. Read over it out loud, or let it sit for a while and come back to it later.

I look forward to your next post!]

Arah Posts: 343
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Wynter :: Royal Griffin :: Draining Clutch Frostie
#7

A r a h

It's not the dog in the fight,
but the fight in the dog



They were both moving with speed and grace, the dance of warriors. Pain flared through her body, however the ivory mare had adrenaline pumping through her numbing the brunt of her aches. Their dance had yet to finish, she wouldn't stop until they took their final bows. Her hind still faced her partner, with the force of a small storm she kicked out and found a mark. No crack was to be heard, he had protected his ribs with amazing accuracy, a more fleshy area had taken her kick. That blow would pack some pain though. Now was not the time to celebrate, a return attack would soon be coming her way and she had to be ready. Her back legs slammed back down to earth. The muddy snow sprayed up and onto her under carriage. Normally she would care, but night now? She felt like a warrior. Still, she was a novice fighter, with little experience at battling and no experience at one on one spars. He was the master of death, the creator of havoc, The Basin's General. Was she crazy for taking Deimos on? Yes.

Slipping in the mud and snow, Arah found herself hindered by the slick surface that they battled on. The bite on her back was now bleeding profusely, the crimson colour left clear trails in her white coat. Her entire left hand side also ached, that side had taken his brute force, she could practically feel it bruising already. He slowed now and she watched him suspiciously, pausing in her own movements. A clever plot? Feeling like she was coquetting with death, Arah allowed the space to lessen between them. For a moment, silence. Harsh breathing could be heard, her breath fogging up in front of her face. Mud and blood dripped filthily off of the now dark grey mare, a shiver ran the length of her spine. Then she felt it, the point of his movements and lack of psychical attack. She had heard whispers of his deathly gift. Gradually it tapped into her energy, little black lights danced before her. Knees weakened and her vision blurred ever so slightly. Weakness grew as Deimos fed himself on her energy, a startled gasp entered through her chops as she stared at him. Fear pounded through her, wide eyed and shocked at his ability. Arah only felt terror as his hulking mass loomed before her. It was only a light meal, a taste test compared to what he could actually do, however she had already spent so much energy on this battle. She didn't have much to spare.

Understanding the warning, Arah knew that more pain was coming her way. This would not stop her though, their fight was almost finished. She would be a coward to back away now.

Movements like a sluggish sleep walker, awakening from a long night, Arah stumbled a few steps away. With the intention to step out of his magic's grasp, she found herself staggering. The time for action was now, though she paused for a moment, shaking her head she cleared it the best she could. Now she started to close the distance between them by moving in a slow trot. Pushing through her exhaustion and tiredness, Arah picked up the pace. Maximum speed was out of the question, the ground and her current psychical state would not allow it. Sloshing through the mud their battle had created, she did some quick strategical thinking. Facing his left hand side, she was reasonably shorter than him. Much easier to reach the more tender parts of his body with her teeth, she was going to use her height to advantage. Still able to clearly see where her antlers had impacted previously, the mare felt a slight growth in her confidence. Golden orbs traveled down further to Deimos' breast which sat neatly just under the point of his shoulder. Target acquired, the white shadow made her way quickly through the muck. She watched the distance close between them, background noise silenced into nothing. Only her hooves stamping the earth and her haggard breath was heard through her own ears, which were pined to the crown of her head. She pushed her misgivings about Deimos aside. Then she counted down in her head, five, four, three, two, one...NOW. Skidding to a slow stop in front of Deimos and showering muddy snow everywhere Arah began to make her move. Extending her neck as far as possible, she aimed to bite his breast. His tender flesh that protected his heart. The part of Deimos that could break. Her teeth protruded her mouth, as her lips pulled back in aggression.

Word Count;; 770/800 [3/3 attack posts | 0/1 Closing defence post.]
Summarised attack;; Stumbles away from Deimos' magic but is unable to escape it. When she clears her head a little she rushes toward's Deimos' left hand breast, hoping to bite him and possibly even tear some flesh.
Notes;; I thought really long and hard about this post, took my time in writing it and tried to incorporate everything you had already said.
I sincerely hope it's better than my last couple of posts and more enjoyable to read! <3


[Image: 2ng9df4.png]
Thy-Darkest-Hour.deviantart.com | Breathless-dk.deviantart.com

And I ain't afraid to die, I’m afraid of going to hell.

✽ Force and magic permitted. ✽
✽ No fatal or permanent damage. ✽
✽ Please only tag in opening posts. ✽

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#8


A warrior exploited their courage, their bravery, their audacity for loyalty, for protection, for security and vigilance. They harnessed their sinuous designs upon opposing forces, lashed against kingdoms that threatened their own. They grew cold, heartless and remorseless as bodies sunk into the floor. They became restless, fervent and rapacious without the turbulence of war crooning, ghosting into their ears. They felt pain but ignored it for another moment, tossed their joints, limbs, muscle and sinew into disaster and decay for just one more taste, one more relish, one more delicious savoring of beast against behemoth. As he watched the Impersonator, he thought that she encountered the mimicry of a soldier well, struggling not to flounder as the savagery of his attack met her frame, leant what little strength she had left to his own aching body. She refused to fall into ice and rime, into slush and debris, into the Basin’s calculated barbarity, continuing on in pursuit of his hide, maybe to show her worth, her credibility, her muster and valor. At this, he gave her the shortest of acknowledgements: the slight dip of his head, a brief, cordial nod, and the hasty flicker of pride in his sinister stare.

Then it vanished and the glacial world enacted its fray again. She stumbled a few strides away, and he began his own motions to avoid some of her, undoubtedly, building tenacity, gaze focused upon her wayward motions. Despite some of his energy coiling back within him, his left side still brandished aches and pains, tirades from her former attacks, left shoulder still dabbled with blood, haunch still ruminating on a bruised and swollen sentiment. However, perhaps with the meager lessening of soreness and discomfort, he could manage to evade some of her intended marks. Her slow charge gave him ample opportunity, and as mud, ice and droplets of snow flew into his sights, so did her snaking muzzle, ivories ushered towards his chest. Did she aim for his stony heart?

He twisted his frame to the right, attempting to protect the layers of muscle and tissue gathered along his chest. Arah’s teeth managed to scrape along the lower point of his already injured left shoulder, and a frustrated snort quelled through his nares at the hot onslaught of pain and fresh swelling. It was another nuisance plagued upon his frame, a nagging juncture that, had he not been the paragon and epitome of composure and control, would have altered him into ferocious, acrimonious tirades. Instead, he offered her another attack to try and defend.

From his swerving, right-directed position, he altered his head’s movements, the rest of his body achingly following suit. His cranium swung back to the left, towards the mare’s own left side, hoping to encounter her flesh (even if she continued moving). He brandished his sword in a long, sweeping arch, aimed to lightly scrape it along her side, perhaps at her shoulders, her barrel or her haunch – whatever he managed to encounter and incise. There was no intent for it to be a wicked, damning wound, but another reminder of what she could face upon the fields of battle. Such was his duty to bestow: education, insight and cruelty in distorted kindness.

A soldier carved their heinous pursuits into mercenary wakes, but a General encouraged his people. He roused them from their beds to steel, to steal, to arms and alms, whispering strategies into their ears, inciting devilish mantras of assaults and assails, strengthened their cores until they become fiendish fixations of power, brawn and might, warriors in heart and mind. Perhaps this encounter with Arah would make her rise to the challenge, to become part of their proud regime, to no longer cower in the shadows, but don the sable cloak, the Stygian armor, and join them in defending their home.

[637 words. 3/3 posts. 1/1 magic used.
Some of Deimos’s energy has returned, sucked out of Arah from his previous enchantments. As Arah’s teeth come towards the left side of his chest, Deimos attempts to swerve to the right. Instead of snagging at his chest, her teeth scrape along his already injured left shoulder, going down to the lower point.

He twists his aching body back towards the left, turning his head and horn toward Arah’s left side, hoping to sweep the sharp edge down along her body.]






[OOC Commentary: Well, wasn’t I a happy camper after I read your post. You took my advice and composed a battle post that held emotion ( Understanding the warning, Arah knew that more pain was coming her way. This would not stop her though, their fight was almost finished. She would be a coward to back away now.), appropriate pain and listlessness from prior attacks ( Gradually it tapped into her energy, little black lights danced before her. Knees weakened and her vision blurred ever so slightly. Weakness grew as Deimos fed himself on her energy, a startled gasp entered through her chops as she stared at him…Movements like a sluggish sleep walker, awakening from a long night, Arah stumbled a few steps away.), and was overall very pleasing to read. I wasn’t confused or bewildered by anything, and it became very noticeable that you took your time, didn’t rush, included directions and read over your post. I’m so proud. :D

My advice now stems to you from this sentence: Pain flared through her body, however the ivory mare had adrenaline pumping through her numbing the brunt of her aches. In general, you should avoid using adrenaline. Its so easy to say and use, and has become more of a cliché in battle posts. Instead of saying “adrenaline”, it would be much more realistic to state how she’s feeling, where the pain is, and how she’s willing to ignore it, or push it aside for the moment. It will still hinder her, just as it has done with Deimos (because trust me I still need work on it ;D), and you won’t lose points for appearing overpowered.

Also this error, those sneaky little things that are spelled correctly but not used correctly: which were pined to the crown of her head.

I’m very impressed with how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time, Frostie. The only thing you have left is your final defense (and remember – no new attacks! ;D). Make sure to include how Arah is feeling at the end of this battle too, including current aches and pains, new ones, and any lingering thoughts she’s had on the situation. A job well done!]

Arah Posts: 343
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Wynter :: Royal Griffin :: Draining Clutch Frostie
#9

A r a h

It's not the dog in the fight,
but the fight in the dog



It was coming to an end, the epic conclusion to their battle. It was time for Arah to make her final move. Stretching her neck to it's full length, teeth also extended, the doe did not miss a beat in her attack. He saw her coming, she should not have been so surprised. He had training, experience and more natural instinct when it came to the battle. With speed and expertise he swivelled, turning his fleshly underside away from her. Her teeth made contact with his already injured shoulder, the scrape that her antlers had made bled and unfortunately for Deimos this would make it rather worse. Her teeth entered the cut, she could taste his blood, sweat and his flesh, the elements that proved him to be mortal. Quickly she dragged her teeth down his skin, injuring his shoulder as much as she dared. Finally she felt enough damage had been done, she pulled away. Knowing how this little game worked, Arah watched him carefully as he began moving, it was his next attack.

She did not have the energy to do another attack, her energy was expiring quickly. Aches and pains covered her entire body, with every passing second she just hurt more. Arah did not feel like she could handle another attack from the General, but she would have to. He was already in motion, his horn moving down to the land hand side of her body.

He twisted his head to the left, and from the corner of her golden eye she could see his battle movements, the determination and his power. His deadly weapon comes down and pierces her skin. The horn enters at her shoulder's height, like a doctor vaccinating a patient of his. Crying out in pain, the white doe is, at first, far to shocked to react. The blood that runs from the quickly growing wound is thick and a bright crimson. With the delayed reaction time his horn dragged down along her left hand side, the scrape was long and deep. Arah cry was short, startled and breathless. The exhausted mare could not do much else, other than watch the horn run down the side of her body. She was frozen with pain and shock, he would be able to use her frozen state to his advantage. The horror and the size of the injury frightened her, she had to stop it, she had to get away from this deathly pain.

With a aching side, the Impersonator began to work to stop his vicious attack. Her bite had been successful, so it wasn't a wasted effort at least. The pain was worth it because she knew, even if it wasn't quite as much as she was, he was hurting as as well. She remembered the taste of his blood, the taste of weakness. It was enough to get herself moving again. Her golden orbs studied him, his position looming over her body and then her mind began to think of possible ways to avoid the rest of his attack. The ivory mare did the only thing that made sense, she began to twist her body away. Her legs stumbled sides ways while the fresh crimson blood ran down her filthy coat. She manages to stumble away so his horn only ends up reaching the middle of her stomach. As soon as the horn had left her flesh, the wound began to sting and burn. She would not cry though, she would not show him anymore weakness. The impersonator wanted to impress him, show him that she wasn't a coward.

The movements were slow and painful, but as she backed off, the sense of relief filled her. It was over, she was done. Arah could not psychically nor mentally make herself attack again. The result of their battle had left her with wounds that would take months to heal, but a more confident mare.

Word Count;; 652/800 [3/3 attack posts | 1/1 Closing defence post.]
Summarised defence;; She twists her body away enough so his horn can no longer scrape along her side. Arah's reaction is slow though, Deimos is able to do substantial damage.


[Image: 2ng9df4.png]
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And I ain't afraid to die, I’m afraid of going to hell.

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#10


A r a h | D e i m o s
- - - - -
By my verdict DEIMOS is the winner.
Deimos receives 2 VP.

ARAH -- post 1 (attack only)

[Realism]
+ 1| Attack: Horn ram to the left hand side of the chest.
0 | Sidenote: "her aim was true although she did not doubt..." -- You go on to make this not powerplay, but I wanted to emphasize that typically true aim is a phrase used for an attack that will definitely land. You should not use this unless your attack does land.

[Prose]
- 1| Emotion: This post had so much potential for an overdose of emotion, but I think you undersold it a lot. There were few emotion words at best, and ultimately I just think it was dry and confusing. Rather than just stating things, make your reader feel them.
+ 1| Easy Read
0 | Flow: You disrupted your flow with this strange slow down of her speed, which was unexplained. Why is Arah slowing down?

DEIMOS -- post 1

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Swerving to the right, moving damage to the left shoulder instead of chest.
+ 1| Attack: Attempting to charge into Arah's left hand side. At first, I was going to count off on this because I thought you got confused on directions. However, if Arah attacked from the right side of Deimos and crossed over toward his left side, you could be hitting her left hand side. Arah's post did not dictate which side she attacked from, so this checks out.
+ 1| Attack: Bite to the spine.

[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion: Keeping the fact that Deimos is about as emotional as a rock, this is a pretty good post emotion-wise. Deimos is a little bit arrogant and doubtful in Arah, while still maintaining his very cool, Deimos face.
0 | Easy Read: I struggled with the direction, but I sort of feel that was the fault of both of you for not clarifying completely, so I just awarded a 0.
+ 1| Flow

ARAH -- post 2

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Slamming hooves down to avoid toppling over from the ram, rear end swinging with the motion.
+ 1| Injury: Bite to the back.
- 1| Borderline Powerplay: "Now her back legs [were] facing his left hand side, his ribs were on display ready to meet her hooves." -- You may not be definitely facing your opponent, as Deimos may have moved in this time frame. By wording your sentence like this, you make the determination that he has not attempted to move and trap your opponent.
+ 1| Attack: Buck to the left-hand side, middle of the chest.

[Prose]
+ 1| Easy Read
- 1| Flow: You separated damage from the initial injury in the case of the slam, which made it more difficult to read and judge. You also had several distracting grammar and spelling errors throughout the post.
0 | Emotion: This was almost there, but through parts of this post you completely lost emotion.


DEIMOS -- post 2

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Launching forward to redirect the kick to the haunches.
+ 1| Attack: Small use of his magic.

[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy Read

ARAH -- post 3

[Realism]
+ 1| Injury: The energy drain in response to Deimos's magic. Taken well.
+ 1| Attack: Biting toward the chest.

[Prose]
+ 1 | Easy Read
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Emotion: So, so much better in this post!

DEIMOS -- post 3

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Moving right to redirect the bite to the chest.
+ 1| Attack: A quick sweep of his horn with a broad aim toward her side. You do not state which side you are attacking, but I assume right since Arah approached from the left hand side.

[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy Read

ARAH -- Closing defense
[Realism]
0 | Defense: Moving away to lessen the impact of the horn slash. You took this injury too far, based on the description of it in the former post. "He brandished his sword in a long, sweeping arch, aimed to lightly scrape it along her side...." This would not make a deep cut. You also should have taken this injury to the right side, considering they are standing parallel (sort of) when Arah bites out at his chest, but I did not take off because Deimos's post did not specify a direction.

ARAH

[Bonus]
+ 2| Breed comparison: You keep the height and build differences between Deimos and Arah in mind, even including them in one of your attacks.
+ 1| Surroundings: You really only mention the surroundings a few times, accurately and making Arah slip, but fail to use it constructively in your battle.

[Injuries]
None.

[Creativity]
Nothing of note.

Comments: You really improved as this fight went along! I did not read Heather's comments, but I feel like you listened to whatever tips and critiques she was feeding you. I especially saw leaps and bounds of improvement in the area of grammar. I think you have a good grip on realistic maneuvers and fighting. Make sure you draw out directions and positions, making them as clear as possible - it will help you out a lot. Great job!

DEIMOS

[Bonus]
+ 1| Breed comparison: Only use Deimos's imposing height once during this fight, but fail to bring it up much in this fight.
+ 1| Health: Least injured.

[Injuries]
None.

[Creativity]
Nothing of note.

Comments: As far as fighting mechanics go, you have it down solid. However, I think you would do well to be more explicit with your attacks and defenses when your opponent is being vague. This can help direct the judge and your opponent, aiding in a less confusing experience to every reader overall. I enjoy your expansive vocabulary, but sometimes the large words in such big quantities can weigh down my thinking cap a little. I believe you have found a good medium between Deimos being emotionless and going out of character for battling by being too emotion. Good job!

TOTAL
Arah - 61
Deimos - 67

Image Credit: dirkjankraan @ Flickr


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