| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 4 Buff: NOVICE |
| Sei |
08-13-2013, 04:13 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-26-2013, 02:56 PM by Artemis.)
Her body was like that of a ghost, the mottled snow painting her body rippling like quicksilver under the iridescent glow of lamp lights that became more and more frequent as she neared the World's Edge. Despite her bulky frame, her steps were quiet, dulled by the sodden terrain of the forest floor. The earth was damp from the previous nights rain which had caused an eerie mist to settle over the landscape. Her steely grey eyes glanced sidelong, squinting through the fog toward her companions; their bodies cast long shadows as they passed the lanterns by, only to be cast into darkness once again. She hated the darkness, but she hated the light, dark, light, dark of the lamps even more. Glancing upward, she eyed the semi crescent that glowed faintly from behind the tree tops, almost completely obscured from view. It was as if the moon was laughing, its grin mocking the trail of equines that made their way through the trees in near blindness. It was as if the moon was a tyrant, overthrowing the sun and casting them into darkness; but now was no time to be seething about the moon, for like the moon that had corrupted the skies and defeated the sun, they too were on the assault.
Head arched and blood red markings vivid upon her pale face, the proud mare glimpsed the edge of the forest and an end to the towering tree's. In this forest, she felt very small; insignificant, despite her brutish frame, so she was glad to see the end of it. As she emerged, stopping just beyond the boundaries of the forest, she scanned the area for movement. Her companions of the Basin and her brothers ad sisters of the Grey stood proudly alongside her. Artemis had little idea why or who they were fighting; so little time it had been since her arrival; yet she did not care. Her heart was pumping in anticipation; fast, quick bursts that pumped adrenaline to her body. She was excited, but her training and demeanor taught her to keep calm in the wake of battle. The only signs of her impatience was the flicking of her tail on her thighs, and the alert, forward pricked ears that framed her slightly jagged horn.
She snorted softly. The mist that seemed to have settled over the lands obscured any movement in the distance, making it hard to make out if any figures were approaching, or their numbers. Taking a slow step forward, fully moving from the forest with her haunches close to the trees in an attempt to prevent behind taken by surprise, she waited. Her exterior was the epitome of calm; but inside, she was burning. She cared little for why she fought. It didn't matter. Fighting was what she was born to do.
It was all the mare was useful for.
[Setting: Early morning, misty/foggy. Edge borders, forest.
482 words. Artemis is ready.
0/4 invasion duel system.
0 magic used. 0 companion used.
Edited for judging
no dawn, no day
|
DevArt
"One Day, I Shall Live By the Code of Honor."
----------------------------------------
No….
It was as though the very shadows of the night sky had descended upon the mists; they trudged forward, a unified pounding of marching hooves that bespoke the end and its beginning. Laila watched the shapes move, pulled from her sleep by the rumbling of the coming force; her eyes clear of sleep and full of growing fear, the shadows became clearer, gradually turning into the shapes of horses of intimidating size, their movement deliberate, their intention clear.
No….
Frostfall had ended, but the cold lingered in the Edge. Laila had cursed this place so many times; had cursed her own idleness, had cursed the freezing mists that clung to her coat every morning. The only saving grace was that her hooves had ceased to boil with her temper, but her temper continued to flair. The filly was growing, her blood burning and her limbs growing to accommodate an itch that had begun to fester in her limbs. Exploring didn’t alleviate this strange craving; no, what Laila wanted was change, a shift in the wrinkle of stagnation. It felt as though Laila was waiting on the precipice of fate, that these passed seasons were nothing but a quiet before the storm of destiny decended; the Gods had left them, the world had been blackened, and still Laila felt her limbs itch with something to come.
No….
She had welcomed that change—the thought twisted her gut with sickening shame as she watched the approaching warriors. Laila had wanted, actually wished for something to shift her cold, sleepy world from its comfortable perch of boredom. What she didn’t bank on was the sudden invasion of her entire world in one fell swoop by these monsters. Yes, that’s what she called them. Monsters
……NO!!
The ebony acolyte was barely two, scarcely older than a fawnling, with a body still gangly and growing despite the roundness and robust quality that her features had acquired. It was madness to consider her inclusion in this battle—she had barely practiced her fighting in the time of her apprenticeship. She should’ve left with the other foals and gotten out of harm’s way when she could….and yet. The idea of her running was too preposterous to consider as well. Young she may be, Laila was in no mood to abandon her land to the hands of the fate she had wanted so desperately. No. She would right this wrong.
“You will not pass me!” Laila called, her voice booming forth with all the power she possessed, her chest quaking with fear and an unidentified quantity as she stepped closer to the cloud of mist, to the shadow-warriors who’s bulk and focus caused her nerves to spike in a way that she had never felt before. Her eyes spotted the crimson battle paint of an enormous specimen of a unicorn, and suddenly the jump in her nerves skyrocketed into a certainty that caused the ebony filly to target the woman with the eyes for combat. Her heart beating a furious tempo in her throat, Laila broke into a charge, directly head-long for the chest of the hulking, dappled creature. This was it; the fires of war had sprung alive in the acolyte’s chest, and there was no turning away from it.
“You will not take my home!!”
[W/C: 560
1/4
Charges Artemis head on.
Editted because I'm a dingleberry and typed the wrong Word Count.]
|
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| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 4 Buff: NOVICE |
| Sei |
08-14-2013, 01:37 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-14-2013, 01:39 PM by Artemis.)
Artemis was not stood idle for long, yet the second that passed felt like a lifetime. Ears pricked forward, the mare shifted slightly from one leg to the other, snorting a hot mist from her nares. The cold bit at her ankles; it was far colder here than the home she was used to. So much was different now; the climate; the persistent night; the equines surrounding her. They were not things that should have bothered her - doubtless, the fight ahead was a much more daunting experience for a mare who had arrived less than a week before - yet the issues tugged at her heartstrings. She missed her mother and her home, but there was no place for her there anymore.
A cry awakened her from the daydream; "You will not pass me!" She turned her head slightly to better see through the fog. The voice put her on edge yet it gave her a warning. Eyes focused on where the voice had boomed as the draft mare arched her crest, tensing her muscles in preparation for an attack. Moments after the cry, a dark form burst from the mist.
The equine was just a filly, not much older than two if Artemis' judgment was correct, though the yearling was a tall one. Not as tall as the draft, but by no accounts small. She was quick on her feet, yet in her enthusiasm to protect her home she did not stop and think rationally. Not only did she give herself away with her shout of fury, yet she charged head on. She was a foolish child, yet Artemis did pity her. She knew how it felt to lose a home. No matter; Artemis did as instructed. She fought, despite not knowing why.
She lowered her head slightly, careful to keep the ebony creature in sight. Her form was easy to spot; the dark ebony was vivid against the backdrop of mist, whereas her own white and silver bodice blended nicely with her surroundings. As Laila grew closer, the dappled mare danced to the left, out of the seemingly blind charge of the filly. Laila made it far too easy for Artemis to dodge, yet as she moved her hooves shifted clumsily over the damp earth. A disadvantage of her tall frame was her weight, which caused her to be slow and cumbersome over more terrains, but she made up for it in strength and stamina. As the filly missed her target, Artemis swept her head around to the right, shifting her body in an semi circle in an attempt to slice her ivory horn over the hind quarters before the filly could turn whilst protecting her own rear end. She focussed her attack toward the quadriceps of the right hind leg, though she would settle for the large gluteal muscles. Both would hamper movement in the leg if she cut deep enough, at the very least making it painful to move.
[Setting: Early morning, misty/foggy. Edge borders, forest.
492 words.
Attempts to slash with her horn.
1/4 invasion duel system.
0 magic used. 0 companion used.
Edited to add correct word count. ]
no dawn, no day
|
DevArt
[/quote]
"One Day, I Shall Live By the Code of Honor."
----------------------------------------
Laila’s ears rang with the claxon siren of her boiling blood; her body moved and charged, and yet the ebony acolyte was breathless with the surge of her own fury. The whirl of panic and indecisiveness was lost in this siren in her mind; it was a call to battle, the first call that Laila had ever experienced in her life. The facepaint of her opponent caused such a savagery in the acolyte’s veins; the vivid red stood proud against the subtle mists, a defiance that screamed its presence and its conquest for destruction. Laila might’ve missed the mighty warrior all together, cloaked as she was in the velveteen fog all around her—she was a ghost, an apparition that could’ve slipped Laila’s notice so easily, but this blood red V denied that. Laila would not allow victory; she would not let her pass.
Wildly spinning thoughts are no place on a battlefield. A well-trained warrior keeps their mind whole and purposeful, clear of any distraction—but Laila was not a full-fledged warrior. Her mind raced so fast her eyes began to throb, and the closer she got to the mare, the faster her mind twirled until she became a ball of confusion. Should I stop? Should I keep running passed? No, I said she wouldn’t pass me! I could slow myself before I get too close to her—could I rear and throw my hooves at her? But what about her horn? How could I get near enough without the horn touching me? What if I—
The filly’s mind was too jumbled for her movements to be precise, and when her opponent easily moved away from Laila’s onslaught, it was a clumsy, half-considered ploy when the acolyte attempted to slow her charge and keep parallel with her opponent. What she was going to do at that point, Laila was unsure—but it seemed important that she kept as close to the invader as she could. As fate would have it, the ground was laden with morning dew, and the sun was nowhere to be found to burn it; the young acolyte’s hooves found no traction and she slipped forward some feet, unable to stop. It was just as well; the horn that thirsted for blood pierced below the point of the filly’s right hip, grazing her skin as the acolyte sailed passed, tracing a line to an area below her dock that beaded crimson droplets. It was in Laila’s favor that she didn’t stop as fast as she wanted to, for the horn’s aim was true, and would’ve traveled deeper into the muscle and cause major damage—but as it was, it was a mere surface wound, and the use of Laila’s leg remained. She cried out, however; the pain and fear of her injury and her opponent left her maw in a sickening scream that left her throat raw and the bells in her mind ringing louder than ever.
The filly stopped thinking after that.
What came next was a shroud of clarity, a pinpoint of precision in Laila’s perspective. Her panic was still there, as well as her blind rage, but it was cloaked with a chilling calm that settled over the acolyte’s shoulders, dousing the flames of chaos and allowing the filly to know what she must do.
Laila did stop, the horn having just released its blood-thirsty tip from her skin; Laila wasted no time and sent an two aimless, lightening kicks for the warrior’s face, her neck, her chest—whatever she could reach. With every movement, pain exploded underneath Laila’s skin, and her right hind leg burned with the furious movements she forced it to make. What was more pressing to Laila, though, was that she couldn’t see her opponent; the large white invader had shifted away from her view, and her attacks were blind. That must change.
Pivoting on her right foreleg, Laila swiveled her hind regions to the left, backing away from her opponent as she did so. It was not a retreat; Laila only wanted to get her bearings together, to be able to see the monolith the the biting horn on her brow, and the rose-madder V that proved to be Laila’s calling to battle. The chilling air washed over her wound, which had begun to bleed rather fiercely with Laila’s furious movements; she could feel drops of blood tracing through the fur of her leg, travelling downwards to become caught in her feathering. She grit her teeth against the pain, knowing there would be more, and knowing her wanted her opponent to experience it as well.
[W/C: 799
2/4]
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| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 4 Buff: NOVICE |
| Sei |
The mare moved her crest down forcefully and purposefully, her eyesight momentarily obscured by the speed of the movement and the tendrils of hair that fell over her face. The length of her mane was the it was braided, but even then her forelock refused to be tamed much like the mare herself. Despite the momentary blindness, she felt the ivory of her dagger connect. The attack felt shallow. Iron-cast eyes shifted slightly to the earth, where deep skid marks from dug in hooves had formed, flattening the dew soaked grass. The filly appeared to have skidded out of harms way, for the most part, though it was not apparent whether it had been simply luck or a well calculated risk on the smaller equines part. Artemis snapped up her head immediately after her attack to survey the damage; her aim was true, yet the dodge had caused only a thin flesh wound that snaked down her opponents back from below her hip, back toward the dock. Had the filly stopped faster, the wound would surely had hindered the movement in the leg. Luck was on the child's side, it seemed.
The filly cried out in pain and the mare felt a moment of hesitation gasp at her heels; she was a filly grown, trained fighter who was maiming a horse a couple years her junior. Her mother had taught her that the weak must be defended, and that had been her sole reasoning behind joining the Grey. Antheia had invited her to join the very herd she was now destroying. Had she made the wrong decision?
Her hesitation hindered her slightly, but not enough for her to ignore the fading of the scream nor the bucking of her legs as the child retaliated. The first hit her chest, her hooves battering the tough muscles of her bodice. That would surely bruise, and indeed it did ache. She grunted, a hiss of hurt slipping from between clenched teeth as the titan reared. The filly lashed out again, this time clipping Artemis's knees and gashing the delicate skin over the joint. As her forelegs kicked out mid-rear, she attempted to strike the filly's dock, where the existing wound would amplify the pain of the hit.
Spinning her lithe form around, the young one faced her opponent with rage filled eyes. The badger marking on her face raced down toward her muzzle like a thick, ghostly tear. Artemis's knee ached and a thin line of blood was slowly dribbling from a nick in the skin where the quick footed hooves of the filly had ricocheted from her form. Artemis did not want to hurt the child, yet her choice had been made. Right or wrong, it mattered little. It was a decision she could no longer reverse.
As the acolyte moved back, Artemis shadowed her and took a step for each one the female made, keeping their distance close. Attempting to gallop to close the gap would be tiresome and clumsy. By walking she allowed her size to attempt to intimidate the child; her crest arched and her ears pricked forwards, eyes pinned upon hers with her intent clear and resonating from her optics. Her nares flared and snorted loudly as a cleft hoof dug at the earth like a raging bull. It mattered little that she felt no rage toward the child; all that mattered was the act and the fake role she portrayed.
Then, as suddenly as she could muster upon the slick earth, she attacked. Plunging forwards, hooves slipping slightly on the lubricious dew, she lowered her horn in a charge; seemingly mimicking the foolish choice the filly had made. Yet it was a bluff; Artemis shied to the right of the horse. Forcing herself to a halt just as she reached the shoulders of the acolyte and knowing her mammoth form would be further propelled forward by the damp grass as the filly had, she let herself slide slightly past the black horse as she rotated her body to the right so that her back was to the side of her opponent. As she reached a stop, front hooves digging into the mud, she kicked back her massive hind legs. Her knee ached under the pressure where the child had struck her. The sinewy trunks were forced toward the filly's flank as the titan aimed for Laila's ribs, hoping to knock the equine down or wind her badly. As her hind legs met earth once more, the muscular unicorn attempted to shift her body around to the right in a semi circle, lowering her head and swinging her horn as she moved. She hoped to cut the shoulders of the filly, or to stop her from retaliating by presenting the ivory dagger to the child's hopefully fallen form.
[Setting: Early morning, misty/foggy. Edge borders, forest.
800 words.
Rears back to shield her face during Laila's attack and lashes out with her forelegs. Feigns a lunge but spins around, kicking back with her hind legs.
3/4 invasion duel system.
0 magic used. 0 companion used.
]
no dawn, no day
|
DevArt
"One Day, I Shall Live By the Code of Honor."
----------------------------------------
The invading mare was a hulking thing, an ivory mountain snorting in the morning mists, looming over Laila as she stalked the ebony filly, matching the acolyte step for step. Yet it was the blood-red V that Laila saw, regarding it as though it were her opponent instead of its owner; feeling as though the marking mocked her, coaxing her into battle. Come here, come attack, it whispered in the mist. It didn’t matter that the war-paint framed eyes the color of water, big, dewy orbs that Laila could’ve been friends with in a different age, at a different time, in a different universe where she wasn’t plunged into the flames of war. No, those eyes were a lie. The heat of battle was here, and as that V towered high above the acolyte, Laila didn’t think, and through her forced calm her path was clear.
The front hooves were capable of quick attack; Laila had narrowly dodged out from under their strikes mere moments ago, feeling the rush of wind from their movement against the tender, blood-soaked laceration on her leg. But at this moment it was the horn she must be wary of; face to face with a unicorn, an equine’s weakness was clear, and the thing to do now was to get away from it. However, before Laila came upon a method of escape from under the lethal weapon, the invader bolted forward; flecks and slabs of mud flew in every direction in the scramble of hooves as the grey intruder charged for Laila, and the acolyte in turn dove to the right in an effort to avoid the attack.
It was a trick, though; the invader shifted as well, and just as Laila realized her folly and attempted to stop her movement to give chase, hooves flew from nowhere, whippet quick things that struck Laila’s left flank with the intensity of a battering ram. Laila's body was already in motion though, and other than a jolt and wobble in her legs and a small slide in the mud, the ebony filly was able to keep on her feet. There was a gasp, however--and then came her cry, muffled from behind clenched teeth with tears springing from her eyes. With the kick on her side and the furious throb of her right quarter as she skidded to a halt, pain exploded all throughout her body in a great burst that traveled seemingly from muscle to muscle, vein to vein, bone to bone. There was no refuge from the agony—and for a span of moments, the whirling panic broke through and Laila was convinced she was going to die. Father, please. Father, I’m trying, I’m trying.
No, whispered another voice in her head defiantly. Don’t think. Don’t think.
With a furious snort, Laila collected her legs underneath herself and, with an eruption of power, propelled herself to the left and toward the invader, digging her hooves deep into the earth to gain traction. She tried not to think about the growing warmth that ran down her leg, tried not to imagine blood sheeting down her muscle and tangle her feathers in gore; she tried not to focus on the pain in her quarters as she forced them into movement or the sharpness in her chest that blossomed with every intake of breath. No, her focus was her hooves—that she lifted them from the slick earth with as much precision as possible, quickly and efficiently so they didn’t become caught into a slick sort of trap—and her quarry in front of her, who was in the middle of turning her body, horn slashing in the air. The invader was large in body, though, and as much pain Laila was in, somehow the acolyte found the momentum to spring with swiftness and agility befitting her size; her charge furious and her aim set for the right side of the intruder’s neck and chest, Laila made to crash into her before the horn slashed in the way, trying to upset the balance and inertia of the moving warrior as best as she could. Reaching forward with hungry jaws, Laila also attempted to bite the withers of the grey mare as she came close, to sink her teeth into the harbinger of her world’s ruin and cause whatever pain she could. The acolyte wanted justice; she wanted to see that blood-red V fall.
[W/C: 765
3/4]
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| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 4 Buff: NOVICE |
| Sei |
Artemis's first assault had been unsuccessful and the tiny dancer had moved swiftly from the titan's flailing limbs with grace over the sodden earth. It was something the lighter framed creature had over the mammoth; as Artemis' hooves dug deeply into the mud, steps sticking, pulling and slowing the mare down, the filly's feet moved with ease in and out of the dirt. Yet the filly was still at a disadvantage as the steely warrior kept close by. Her strength was her weapon and experience was her shield.
She had felt her attack strike; the filly had gasped audibly and Artemis felt a pang of guilt over her actions, however she would not allow herself to hesitate yet again. The nimble obsidian horse wasted no time despite the pain she doubtlessly felt and as the mares ashen body pirouetted her steely gaze met with the charging form of the badger faced child. It seemed the inexperienced and unlikely fighter had discovered her advantage as her thin legs pushed through the damp earth and propelled her body forwards with relative ease. Artemis tried to speed her own movement as she turned, aiming to pierce the chest of the filly, yet her pity for her opponent got the best of her. She did not want to risk spearing the heart of the acolyte, and she slowed her assault. She had not turned full circle; the filly was too fast and was nearing her with speed. Instead of finishing the rotation, Artemis took a quick, slight step forwards as her body became diagonal to the charging horse, then continued to throw her head to the right. By stepping forwards, it meant that if the attack landed, she would only be able to gash the shoulder of the youngster, but it exposed the side of her own chest to an assault. She still hoped to land the hit, yet she knew her attack - if successful - would not be as deep as she probably should have made it.
She couldn't help it. Artemis fought to protect the weak, or so she had wanted to. Trying to impale the young, beating heart of the child with her slightly serrated dagger seemed to contrast her own beliefs and she refused to do it. Even if it meant a victory now, doing so would only haunt the mare, and even if the horn missed the heart, a deep puncture into the pectorals would likely cause long term damage that Artemis was not willing to inflict. No. She would not do that to a child who fought bravely, who wished only to protect the home she had been born in. Artemis was not that kind of equine.
The filly was agile enough to ram into the stone wall of muscle and Artemis felt herself shudder as she shifted slightly; the impact concentrated into her ribs. She coughed, exhaling suddenly as she was winded from the attack. She stumbled slightly to the left for a moment, but her strong legs kept her upright. From the corner of her eye, she saw the flashing of teeth as the wide jaws of the acolyte lashed out toward her flesh. Sucking in a pained breath, Artemis reared once again, twisting her body to the right to face the mare. As she rotated, she felt ivories catch the tender flesh upon the side of her neck below the crest. Her rear forced the teeth to tug, pulling away flesh and causing a jagged gash to form. Blood quickly rushed from the wound, bubbling over in a thin line that traced down her neck. The pain felt like fire; burning and clawing at her nape yet the warrior could not stop. Her rotation brought her forelegs to to where the fillies head had been and she kicked out, hoping to collide with skull. As her body fell from the rear, the mare sent her own dental work flying forth, hoping to bite the face or neck of the dancer. If she could only snag an ear, she could cause the filly pain without causing too much damage beside an ugly scar or ripped audit.
"Speak."
[Setting: Early morning, misty/foggy. Edge borders, forest.
691 words.
Is winded from Laila's attack, rears up and kicks out, then aims a bite to the face/ ears or neck of her opponent.
3/4 invasion duel system. was wrong last post
0 magic used. 0 companion used.]
|
Credits
"One Day, I Shall Live By the Code of Honor."
----------------------------------------
There was that horn again, fulfilling its job to the best of its ability, cutting just above the acolyte’s right shoulder and just underneath the wither. Laila was in no position to shy away from it, charging as she was into the great behemoth; she was forced to allow the tip to graze her skin, to shred it and give another laceration to the already battered and beaten filly. She sucked in her breath, tensing against the pain; the chilled, salt-bitter air didn’t help to comfort it, biting into it instead with every gust that wafted over the wound. It was shallow—and it was its shallowness that afforded its pain. Yes, it was painful, and as Laila stretched her neck to clamp her jaws into the skin of her enemy, the cut was stretched taught, and the ebony filly’s eyes leaked some in her distress.
Her efforts weren’t for naught, however. Laila’s teeth found their target, and she was able to latch onto her opponent for some time, her teeth clamping down with all the ferocity she could muster in the instantaneous heat of battle. If she had it her way, Laila would’ve aimed to pierce the skin of the invader and wring the life out of her, as a coyote might shake the life from the kitten between its jowels—but this was nothing more than a daydream of hate. Yes; in those moments, Laila hated the mare with all of her young , compassionate heart. It was a fire so corrosive, so all-consuming, that when the intruder reared out of the acolyte’s grasp, Laila reared alongside her in an effort to brutally continue her attack. Keep close, whispered a voice in her mind, the voice of reason and battle-calm, the horn can’t pierce you if you’re too close. Be wary of her teeth! Mind the hooves, watch out--
In her blind rage, Laila had missed the invader’s forehoof lashing out into the mist, a lightning bolt aimed for the ebony filly’s head. With sheer, dumb instinct, Laila shied her head away to the left, and her neck and chest were exposed in those breathless heartbeats; the hoof-tip of the invader battered Laila once more, assaulting her right shoulder and aggravating the cut that had been planted only moments before. If there had been no blood previously, there was certainly some now—tiny droplets blooming against her obsidian hide, before finally spilling over down her chest, further painting her body in crimson. There was a fraction of a second, barely more than the blink of an eye, where Laila attempted to turn back and face the body of her attacker and once more attempt to plant a punishing bite somewhere on that ivory form—
--but the warrior mare beat her to it.
Long, brick-like teeth clamped hold onto the acolyte’s right ear, and the panic burst from Laila’s mind from behind the curtain of calm. She aimed to tear away from the warrior’s teeth, from this pure, mind-numbing agony, but in doing so she only made it worse; a sickening zsnick! resounded in the air, and something in Laila’s mind and body told her that her ear felt different…and that it would forever feel different, ruined by the invader’s fangs. The acolyte had gotten her secret wish; she now bore the mark of a soldier.
What came next was a mess of red haze, a clogging blurriness that left Laila feeling as though she were trapped underwater. Whether it was rage, or the return of her cool intuition, the acolyte could not say--only it felt as though time slowed and her heart took hours to beat. She became uncomfortably aware of the blood that streamed down her leg and the trails of crimson falling from her newest wound; how her left flank throbbed in a controlled rhythm, how she suspected a bruised rib in that area; how her ear, her poor, massacred ear fell into two pieces as she snatched it out from the warrior mare’s maw, one shred falling away from the main body, a flopping, contemptuous allusion to the derelict state of the filly that caused waves upon waves of explosive torture so intense, it didn’t even feel like pain. No, it was a mild buzz, a sedative that sent her mind vaguely numb and sleepy—and somewhere Laila realized she was nearing the end of her game.
Returning to ground and pivoting her body to the left, Laila aimed a kick towards her enemy’s chest once more, but it was a half-hearted attack—for the filly was beaten down, and close to her defeat.
[W/C: 800
4/4]
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| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 4 Buff: NOVICE |
| Sei |
The flesh torn from her crest burned as the mare felt the blood steam to the surface, bubbling over and spilling down her pale pelt like crimson tears that tainted the snowy blanket of fur. Her eyes watered from the pain, nostrils flaring as she sucked in a deep breath. The filly had reared alongside her, forcing her ivories in deeper before tearing the skin. It pained her, but the mare embraced the feeling. it seemed right that she, too, should bear the marks of this fight as a reminder of what she had done; of who she had battered. She was but a child; a foolish child yes, but a child nonetheless. She was green to the art of war, yet Artemis had not simply told her to leave with the other children. She was embraced the warriors scream and lashed out in retaliation at the dancers fury. She needed the reminders; she needed to remember.
War never changed, yet never before had it felt so bitter.
Her hooves had lashed out, making contact with flesh, but in the mist and gloom the steely gaze did not see where. Before she knew it, he hooves touched earth and her neck forced forward; her ivories finding flesh and latching on. Her neck throbbed in agony from the movement as she tried to tug her head back, teeth firm upon the fillies skin. Despite the pain, she managed it, and with eyes that widened she felt the familiar tearing of flesh. Stumbling back a step from the momentum of the pull, Artemis felt a small piece of flesh hanging from between her lips. Her mouth exploded from the taste of copper and she swiftly spat the meat down onto the dew masked grass.
Through the mist and the gloom, she could see blood oozing down from the mares ear. it was difficult to see on the ebony fur, but it stained the badger mark crimson much like her own war paint. The ear was torn, one piece flopping over like the pages of a book. That was a mark that time would not cover up. Artemis lowered her head slightly, breathing heavily from the sudden clash. The bruise on her side was throbbing furiously as her rib cage heaved, and her knees quivered from the shallow wound that marked the joint of her right foreleg. From the movements of her rearing and kicking, the wound had bled more, causing streaks of angry red to taint her dark sock. Yet that was nothing compared to Laila.
The dancer pirouetted, yet her movements were no longer darting or graceful, but fatigued and hopeless. The mare half reared as hooves raised to meet her chest, feeling them clip her knees and cause her wound to split open further. She snorted in pain, but her lips clamped shut and refused to cry out. As her legs met earth yet again, she favored the leg, unwilling to bare weight upon the battered knee. The filly had her back to the misty shrouded mare. She had given up. Artemis could feel it, resonating off her young body. There was no honour in attacking now; she had no blood lust, no need to induce further pain upon the filly. She took a step back, gently prodded her horn upon her rump away from the existing wound, and sighed. A tangle of creamy white fell over her crimson marking. "You fought well, little warrior." She murmured. She had no right to speak to the girl, she knew. She had a feeling they might meet again, and when they did, she knew Laila would be stronger. She knew, her own ear might be marked for the taking. Turning her back on the bloodied filly, she turned her attention to the fighting forms of her companions. With a pang of guilt, she realized she was unsure of who was friend and who was foe.
Was it worth it?
Word Count: 657
Ended, unless Laila wishes to take her final post.
"Speak."
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Credits
"One Day, I Shall Live By the Code of Honor."
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Given up? No. If it were up to the ebony filly, she would still be scrapping, still be throwing her hooves and lashing out with bared fangs toward the ivory spectre who dared cross her herdlands. Alas, it was not the lack of will that kept Laila from acting on pure, blinding, rage-filled impulse; her body shook with its failure, because it was done, and no amount of willpower would get it to move with a warrior’s grace and precision. To attack now would mean a flurry of meaningless, sloppy maneuvers that would tire the filly even further with no apparent reward.
And so, the acolyte learned the wisdom of cease-fire.
Her limbs shook, the most violent of which came from her rear right leg; she could apply weight, but every time she did her cut screamed in protest, and every movement sent sticky blood further into her feathers. It didn’t feel as though she bled too much, from either her two cuts or her poor massacred ear—in fact, she wasn’t even sure if her ear bled at all, such was the gentle pinpricks that tentatively breached the surface. No, it wasn’t bloodloss that caused Laila’s head to swim. The pain in her quarters, her chest, her ear pounded so hard, her sight shattered before her; she closed her eyes against the debilitating agony, against the kaleidoscope of images and the hot tears of frustration that began to well inside her lids. She wanted to fight, not sit here stewing in the pain of her own foolish injuries!
*"You fought well, little warrior."*
Laila’s eyes remained closed, but she sucked in her breath, tail lashing in irritation at such false words of admiration from her enemy. Laila didn’t want to be met with any sort of respect from her adversary—she wanted to hate her. “Not well enough,” she murmured, trying her right hind leg once more and wincing at the buzzing sting that issued from her wound yet again, “You’re still here.”
Sharing in the quiet of her enemy, Laila stood there flooded in the noise of the battles around them—somewhere her father must be protecting their herd just as she had attempted to herself. Both warriors, filly and mare, were peaceful in those moments, sentinels carved from marble and obsidian, erected in the mists to witness the chaos that was mindless conquest. However, while the ivory pillar may look on with regretful confliction, Laila’s own boiling emotions had solidified into a cold, hard ore of certainty. She may have not been looking into the visage of her enemy at that moment, but her closed, tear-soaked eyes were beset with images of a blood-red V, the warpaint that screamed for her attack, that mocked her childish weakness, that beckoned the ebony filly forth into the flames of vengeance.
She would remember that V.
[W/C: 499
4/4, 1/1]
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| Administrator |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
| Official |
L A I L A | A R T E M I S
- - - - -
By my verdict Artemis is the winner.
Artemis receives 1 VP and earns one point for the Grey Invaders.
Laila -- post 1 (attack only)
[Realism]
+ 1| Attack: Charging at Artemis.
[Prose]
+ 1| Easy Read
+ 2| Emotion - Lots and lots of emotion here, I can really feel why Laila is doing what she's doing.
+ 1| Flow
Artemis -- post 1
[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Moving to the left to avoid Laila's charge.
+ 1| Attack: Turning right and aiming horn for Laila's hindquarters.
[Prose]
+ 1| Easy Read
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
Laila -- post 2
[Realism]
+ 1| Injury: Taking Artemis' horn from the point of the hip to near the dock.
+ 1| Attack: Stopping and kicking out at Artemis.
[Prose]
- 1| Easy Read - You had some slip-ups in this post, like putting 'the the' and mixing up 'her' and 'she' once, as well as what seemed to be a random 'an' in one of your sentences.
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
Artemis -- post 2
[Realism]
+ 1| Injury: Taking Laila's kicks to the chest and knees.
+ 1| Attack: Rearing up and striking out at Laila's dock.
+ 1| Attack: Kicking out at Laila's left side.
+ 1| Attack: Semi-circle to the right and swinging horn for Laila's shoulder.
[Prose]
+ 1| Easy Read
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
Laila -- post 3
[Realism]
+ 1| Injury: Taking Artemis' kick to the left flank.
+ 1| Defense: Ramming into the right side of Artemis' neck/chest.
+ 1| Attack: Biting for Artemis' withers.
[Prose]
+ 1| Easy Read
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
Artemis -- post 3
[Realism]
+ 1| Attack: Aiming to slash Laila's shoulder with her horn.
+ 1| Injury: Taking Laila's charge to the ribs.
0| Injury: Bite to the crest. If Laila's charge had gone into her ribs and this bite was after that, then wouldn't the bite have landed on Artemis' rump?
+ 1| Attack: Rearing up and striking out at Laila's head.
+ 1| Attack: Biting for Laila's ear/face.
[Prose]
+ 1| Easy Read
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
Laila -- post 4
[Realism]
+ 1| Injury: Artemis' horn to Laila's shoulder.
+ 1| Defense: Rearing and jerking head to the left to avoid being stricken.
+ 1| Injury: Hit in the chest/right shoulder by Artemis' hooves.
+ 1| Injury: Ear go bye-bye
+ 1| Attack: Kicking out at Artemis' chest.
[Prose]
+ 1| Easy Read
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
Artemis -- post 4
[Realism]
+ 1| Injury: Laila's hooves to her knees.
[Prose]
+ 1| Easy Read
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
Laila -- post 5 (defense only)
[Realism]
No attacks or defenses were made; nothing of note.
Laila
[Bonus]
+ 2| Breed: You always used Laila's smaller, more agile size to your advantage.
+ 2| Surroundings: You were always aware of your surroundings, mentioning them often.
[Injuries]
Nothing of note.
[Creativity]
Nothing of note.
Comments: Can I steal your ability to put emotion into posts, please? The way you described Laila's will to protect her herd, even though she is young, was remarkable. Emotion is what most people struggle with when it comes to battles, but you have it down to an art. You did well at keeping Laila's age and inexperience in mind. All in all, you have the mechanics of a fantastic fighter, just keep it up; awesome job!
Artemis
[Bonus]
+ 2| Breed: You were constantly aware of Artemis' larger size and used it to your advantage.
+ 2| Surroundings: You were always aware of your surroundings, mentioning them often.
+ 1| Health
[Injuries]
Nothing of note.
[Creativity]
Nothing of note.
Comments: As a relatively new player here, you're an astounding fighter! You described both your attacks and defenses great, and I loved the way you described Artemis' internal struggle of not really wanting to hurt Laila. You kept your injuries in mind throughout the entirety of the fight, describing them and playing them off well. You're an exceptional fighter, just keep up the good work!
TOTAL
Laila - 76
Artemis - 78
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image credit to Paulo Brandão
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[O] No dawn, no day [Judge] [INVASION]
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