the Rift


[OPEN] I'll Burn the Heart Out of You [Invasion]

Tolio Posts: 110
Deceased
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.3hh :: 6 Years 8 Months Buff: NOVICE
Brit
#1
MADNESS IS LIKE GRAVITY. ALL IT TAKES . . . IS A LITTLE PUSH
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They call him to war.

A light gleams in his mercury gazers, a feline who has caught the scent of a target that tries helplessly to hide from view like a coward. Like silent, unseen ghosts they invade, splitting apart and lining the borders like an impenetrable force, awaiting their fog counterparts. Tolio may not have lived within the misty reaches, but he remembers. Remembers the burns upon Mauja and Faelene, remembers Faelene’s crumpled face when she guided him to the Steppe instead of the Edge. He remembers, and even if the demon inside had not howled for blood, he would have wished to sink his teeth into the flesh of those who had put such weathered expressions upon his two beloved people. There is nobody within the dark trees who he loves, no death he will mourn or regret. Deep inside the scarred body, a hellish being is unleashed, a devil screeches and roars in triumph as the collar is undone and the leash dropped, fangs bloodied and eyes shot with blackness. Unaware, its prey lies within those misted trees, and the devil howls in delight and desire at the knowledge that they will fight today.

Beneath two bloody and two snowy hooves the earth is slop, but he does not falter. The air is crisp and icy off the ocean, even Birdsong refuses to warm it. Short mane is ruffled in its breeze, and in the pale lighting of the tainted land’s patron Goddess his teeth glint sickeningly as he grins sadistically. Already envisioning the crunch and snap of bone, the terrified eyes and fleeing forms, already imagining the hot rush of blood inside his mouth and the pound of adrenaline through his black sludge veins. Slip, slide, skid through the mud. Stand tall, glance about for prey, eyes crazed and shining with bloodlust. Whoever faces the stallion on this day of war will not face something sane. Death has long since befriended this bloodied bastard, and Tolio does not fear it. Nothing to lose and everything to gain, he is ready for battle. Pointing his rump towards the borders where they slip in, he stands firm between two trees, ensuring those who wish to attack him will have to do so head on, from above, or from behind. On his pale face, the manic grin remains, and he awaits his opponent.

They will reclaim what they had lost so long ago. The light would return to the faces of his loved ones. They would show the scum that had forced them into homelessness that they were not to be toyed with, that they were far more powerful, that they were beasts from the murk that all innocent souls avoided. The Aurora Basin was making its move, and Tolio knew with sick glee that even if they did not win, they would make their mark, show all the lesser species that whined and preached peace in their weakness that they were Lords, unbreakable. Long ago they had thought they had taken them down, but they would always regroup, always grow stronger, and they would always take their revenge.


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Word Count: 524
0/4 invasion duel system. Time frame window to start an invasion or defense is until 8/18.

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Madyrn Maskan Posts: 87
Deceased
Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 16
Whit
#2
It was time to release the dogs of war.

Drums pounded into the earth, hoofbeats drummed a rhythm that sung of things to come - bloodshed, fractures, challenges to the peaceful living they had taken to in these misty, wooded lands. Well, peaceful was perhaps, not the correct term. They had stirred the metaphorical pot, they had been privy to the plan to provoke, to tickle, to irritate those who would see their beloved members murdered in cold blood.

They had succeeded.

Grins split the maws of the brothers. They nodded to each other, as one left to join the foals of the lands in a journey South, to the Throat, where they could be safe - and where he could help protect those southern lands should the invaders think of taking advantage of their distracted state. But who was left behind?

Forelegs of crimson sunk into the earth below, as mist and fog danced around him. He was alone now, the buffer of his twin gone - the fires that lived within his soul crackled just beneath his skin. Steam already rose from his back as the chilly night air clashed with his warm hide - it was rare that he ever stood still, for immobility gave his aged bodice a chance to grow stiff, and stiffness did not help one in destroying enemies.

Madyrn came forth from the mists, brass hued eyes glowing in the moonlight as they drank the nearest enemy body in. He didn't care who it was, what they were - they were all the same when they were an enemy. This particular enemy was a tall beast - almost as tall as himself - but lighter in build, with a blasted horn protruding from his forehead, which made frontal attacks difficult to execute without literally losing one's own head. He had fought unicorns before however, and won, and this time would be no different. Between trees did this enemy lie, and so Madyrn thought quickly about just how he could encourage the splashed brute to expose those juicy, soft, tender parts that were made for biting and bleeding.

The brute arched his nape, chin tucked into his chest, strides elongating. Passage would be the classical term, as a floaty trot carried him two body-lengths before this crimson and white unicorn, his own dark form barely etched out from the scenery by mist and moonlight. Out of the brothers, he was the one more likely to show-off his physique with such displays when courting mares, but now he did it to encourage the mystique and mystery that surrounded all who called this misty realm home. His steps etched a large counter clockwise circle about the pair of trees where Tolio last stood, and Madyrn's appearance before him only lasted a handful of seconds as he pushed himself onwards, hoping the darkness shrouded him from view once more as he realigned his aim.

His crown was facing the space where Tolio's left hindquarter had been as it stood between the trees, as Madyrn made his charge. Hooves pounded into the earth, mimicking the war drums that sounded earlier. Control, his brother's voice seemed to sound in his head, as Madyrn's energy levels rose with the excitement - as his control slowly slipped away and he succumbed to the demon that was his own, uncontrollable rage. A speedy canter brought him near to the trees, and his teeth reached out for where he last saw that plump crimson rump, aiming to rip and tear at the skin just to the left of Tolio's croup.

As he did this, his own haunches folded and drove his fore-end forward, sending his right shoulder sideways and skywards. He hoped to use the slight advantage his heavier build possessed and physically smash into the enemy's left buttock to send him forward, out of the trees - or even knock him hard enough into the tree that was to Tolio's right. Madyrn smiled at the thought that the unicorn, who thought himself so clever as to use the Edge's trees against them, might find that his 'shield' had become the very weapon Madyrn could exploit against him.

[ ooc :
695 words.
1/4 attack posts. ]
background pattern by webstreatsetc.deviantart.com

Tolio Posts: 110
Deceased
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.3hh :: 6 Years 8 Months Buff: NOVICE
Brit
#3
MADNESS IS LIKE GRAVITY. ALL IT TAKES . . . IS A LITTLE PUSH
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The battlefield sings a sweeter song than Tolio has ever heard, it’s like a spice, a drug, in his body. Veins, muscles, bones. Seeping into every pore, only further antagonizing the beast that lay snarling and snapping beneath scarred, muscled form. It was unleashed at last, and only had to wait for prey to waltz before the snout of the dangerous criminal, ready to be snapped up. The devil was far from a neanderthal; this was his stage, and he the main character. Nobody knew these polished floors as he did. Wasting the energy hunting down the disgusting peace-people was counter-productive, not to mention they knew the lay of the land far better and he could be blindsided. With the thick mud at his hooves from Birdsong and the fogs of the Edge, it was a dangerous excursion. The stone-heads were not worth broken legs. They were hardly worth the breath he exhaled upon their rotten territory.

In the distance, the mice scuttles, and eases past at a rapid but leisurely pace. Tolio snarls, their eyes meet as the massive brute glances his way. He is hardly visible in the half-light that is scattered further by the trees overhead, but the thick squelching of mud is a sure sign of his presence. Must be a fat bastard too with how heavily his hooves hit the disgusting substance. He never slows. Tolio advanced a few slow, jogged steps, lips curled in a snarl. It’s almost impossible to see. He desperately wishes to pursue, but if the idiot was going to bypass him, should he risk the injury he’d been previously musing over? Even so, he is alert now, and he strains his ears for more hoofbeats upon and within the mud.

It’s likely what saves his ass- quite literally. The pace is much faster from the fat bastard this time around, only making the noises more pronounced, and they advance far too quickly. There is no time to look over his shoulder, hardly any room to do so- Tolio must go with his gut instinct, even if he is never one to choose flee over fight. Lunging forward through the slurry, he stumbled as a shoulder barely kissed his croup from the left side, barely enough to bruise but more than enough of a reminder of the lumbering giant’s presence. It smarts, but it is a dull ache, and though his ass hurts when he continues forward with the motion that had brought him out of harms way of white teeth, it is not much. Thick, the mud stops his progress from gaining swiftness, renders momentum nearly impossible to gain. Now free from the constraints of the trees, he tosses his head to look at the brute not far from him with how far he’d stumbled.

There was no way he could turn sharply in this muck, but Tolio was long of body and leg, and he thanked his mother profusely for both as he planted his hooves in that previously-restricting now-supportive gunk and brought his hind end high, lashing out towards the darkly giant’s broad chest. The mud had effectively slowed all motion, as it was harder between the trees where few walked- those roads were slick and dangerous. Now, he didn’t have to fight his speed to reverse and kick the fat bastard’s ass. The moment his hind hooves touched earth, he lunged forward and ripped his forelegs from the earth that had caught them, almost like a gangly foal trying to escape the bog before reaching the path and sliding, stance going wide like a newborn as he swung his hind end in order to go with the motion, ending up with his crown pointed like a compass at the large stallion, facing the south-east borders. His rump still complains and smarts, though not in a way the stallion usually envisioned. It only worsens with the wide stance he must assume so as not to fall flat on his face during battle, but he is otherwise unharmed. Aside from that only his forelegs are slightly twinging from the mud abruptly stopping him, cursing the deep drifts of it that gathered like snow and yet stuck like glue. It was as if he'd been yanked back like a dog reaching the end of it's leash. But he was finally cut free, the ache was akin to a good workout. A grin still cracked his eerie facade. Like attracted like, right?

Horn dipped, shoulders braced, knowing his slimmer form was at disadvantage of mass but advantage of speed. The bastard would either have to charge or back away like a coward, and Tolio was more than prepared to play chicken. "That all you got, fat ass?!"

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Word Count: 795
Post: 1/4

Image Credits

Madyrn Maskan Posts: 87
Deceased
Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 16
Whit
#4
It was the perfect recipe for disaster.

Teeth snapped together with a sharp bite at thin air as the unicorn surged forward ahead of him - this pleased him, for it was his plan, to get the horned fiend out of the trees. But at the same time he felt complete and utter annoyance that one of his strikes missed the bastard, especially the strike that would have allowed him to taste the salty blood that ran through this enemy's veins. A grunt escaped him as the impact of his shoulder against the splashed steed's hind vibrated through him, his motion continuing even as the unicorn pulled forward another step in the muck below. It was the tree that was originally to Tolio's right that eventually aided him in stopped, as he bumped against it - not hard, more of a rough embrace against the right side of his neck as his forelegs touched back down to earth and his hindquarters ceased their driving forward. Teeth ground together in frustration for the breath of time that passed.

What happened next, well, he supposed he should have expected it. Hooves came hurdling towards him, slick with mud - and it was that fact which saved him from greater harm. The slippery substance meant that as the hooves made an impact against his left pectoral, they then slid off towards his left shoulder, rather than caused any deep damage. A bruise, an ache - he would surely feel it afterwards and his step would be shortened because of it, but right now, it would not hinder his movement, only make it somewhat painful. Of course, this was not what Madyrn thought - he was pissed, furious - the rage as building within him, boiling, simmering over the sides of the pot, hissing and spitting until a red haze seemed to encroach upon his vision, and nothing but destruction would be possible. A deep, growling echo seemed to form in his chest, and it erupted as a roar, even as the unicorn twisted in the mud before him.

Madyrn did not stand still and wait for that damned horn to be pointed at him. Let the fiend point his stick at him, but he was not about to be an immobile target for him. Broad hooves found traction in the mud perhaps slightly easier than his lighter foe, though the feathering upon his limbs did become heavy with the damp dirt - hardly enough to make much difference to his motion, however. The unicorn's words fell on deaf ears, for they were pressed to Madyrn's skull, so that his crown appeared as nothing more than a serpent's sleek head, rimmed by a chaotic mess of dark tendrils, with orange eyes gleaming above a haphazard ivory blaze. He chased the splashed enemy's hindquarters, knowing that they meant less of a chance for his own hide to be strung up by the annoying stick the enemy held upon his brow. So he first took a step right, then swung left, following the motion as the unicorn pivoted upon his forehooves.


Naturally, he is not as swift as the slimmer beast, for he boasted more of the draft heritage in his lines than the Arabic, but that he followed so soon after the steed began turning could give him a chance at landing another strike. So he tried, with all the power of his hindquarters driving his momentum forward, to hit the splashed enemy upon his left cannon bone, using the hard surface of his own left foreleg as a weapon. Simultaneously, his teeth flashed once more, as his eyes, rimmed white with madness, aimed the strike at the unicorn's left flank. Rip, tear, bleed - this was what Madyrn wanted, what his rage fed on. The rage, that was his weapon, but also his downfall. When it set in, he became more reckless, more likely to destroy himself even as he destroyed his enemy. Control, a fading echo, a forgotten thought seemed to hum at the back of his mind - control was gone now, already, as the son of Vorear fought with the passion of a blazing wildfire.

[ ooc :
694 words.
2/4 attack posts.
0/1 closing defence. ]
background pattern by webstreatsetc.deviantart.com

Tolio Posts: 110
Deceased
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.3hh :: 6 Years 8 Months Buff: NOVICE
Brit
#5
MADNESS IS LIKE GRAVITY. ALL IT TAKES . . . IS A LITTLE PUSH
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“Your soul is pure, Lio. In time, you will know anger. You will know the fire of battle. But remember, son, you must never, never, lose your head. The moment you lose control, you begin to make mistakes.” Like a wisp of smoke the memory flees from him, but his eyes harden and sharpen with the knowledge his sire had bestowed upon him. Inside, the blood howls for blood, but he has been trained from far earlier and for far longer than most. Tolio will not easily forget the lifestyle he had been raised to follow.

The dull resonation of impact still aches beautifully within his hind cannons, and he hopes the mud was wiped upon the breast of his foe, to sully him in a way that could not be achieved by battle- only shame. Pleasure blooms at the fact he managed even a single blow so far. And instead of frustration clawing at his breastbone when the earth-shaking hoofbeats followed behind him, heavy with the mass of the much larger lad, the bloodied hunter takes a deep breath. This is his arena. Never waver. Never doubt. Just strike.

Listening, he hears the stutter in the dark draft’s gait, obvious through the level, thunderous kiss of his hooves to the earth. Turning, then. Tolio slides easily upon the slick mud with his lighter frame; as his momentum finalizes and fizzles, he sees clearly his opponent once more. There's no time to react, to breathe. Time doesn't slow, it will never slow, will never falter or pause for any mortal. It's now, or never. Something crazed lies in the october eyes he faces, but it only encourages him. Brains often won out over brawn after all. Despite the fact that his breed could hardly rear, the dark brute lunges, powerful hindquarters in good use to give him height that gravity normally wouldn't granted. Teeth snap, eyes flash, slick hooves fly through the air, thick matted feathers following like a broken banner. He doesn't know which leg Madyrn aims for; has to take all possibilities into account. Tolio faces the eastern borders, and he vows; he will not cross them without victory on his shoulder.

Draft hooves could crush and break bones so easily. Either he sacrificed his leg to a dire slash, or he risked a tear to his flanks- a weak spot for all horses- and a body shove that could send him to his knees or worse in this dreadful bog. If he suffers the blow, he has the chance to return an attack. If not, swinging his hind end away would ruin any momentum, advantage, and time he had to return the blows. Tolio clenches his jaw, makes his decision. Settling his weight on broad, quarter-horse hindquarters, he shuddered slightly as he lifted from the unsteady ground with a shove from his forelegs to the left and the sky simultaneously, looming over the older, larger stallion. They were close in height, but Tolio was still that little bit taller. The movement to the left from his forelegs swung his lower body to the right, flank narrowly missing the gouging headed its way but teeth still clipping and scraping across his thigh down to his stiffle. Tolio’s muted screech fled his throat in a tangle of rage as massive hooves crushed down on his left, hind cannon, ripping the skin the entire way down- or at least that’s how it felt; fire raging up his leg, spilling out like lava and infecting his muscles with agony.

Unsteady already, he jerked forward to evade the pain, red hooves already aimed for Madyrn’s unprotected spine from the draft’s left side, using his weight and momentum to shove down towards it. His leg throbbed and screamed at him, his thigh sore and likely bleeding, and his entire hind left leg quaked with the sudden fail of his muscles as the pain momentarily crippled him. Bitterly he hoped the bastard enoyed his slighter frame crashing with full weight upon his spine, hooves aimed to slice skin. Should he not connect, the angle would have his breast aligning with Madyrn’s left flank, and he would pass by harmlessly. Should that happen- unlikely with Madyrn’s heavy frame and slower speed- Tolio was prepared to use the horn he’d been crowned with to put the vile, mudblooded equine in his place. Now, he just leans upon his right hind leg in compensation, bears down, and hopes to connect on such a vital spot, more than ready to let his forelegs remove the pain of rearing, already tipping forward heavily from the instinctive urge to flee the pain of his hind leg. Upon gaining all four hooves again, he would have his revenge.


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Word Count: 799
Post: 2/4

Image Credits

Madyrn Maskan Posts: 87
Deceased
Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 16
Whit
#6
Sweat and fur combined on his tongue, the hair, still thick from the winter just passed, brushed in between his yellowed teeth, while the salty sweat fuelled the fire that continued to grow within him. His sister was a dragon, but Madyrn could only be described as the flame, uncontrolled and wild, free and unrestrained - where his brother was the shadow, reclusive, subtle, silent and just as deadly in his strikes. Where their sisters represented the flames and shadows combined in one barely stable concoction, they were the elements split, fire filling one and darkness filling the other, the instability of each elements unrestrained by that which would buffer them forcing the brothers to forever be by each others' side. But they had split now, and in the absence of his shadowy sibling, Madyrn's ability to control that fiery rage dissolved further. It was for them that he began fighting, but it was the rage that kept him fighting, his stamina lasting only as long as the fires were lit within his passionate breast.

Crash went his hoof into the bony ridge of Tolio's limb, though he did not feel the crunch he so desired, the action that would have crippled his opponent - the breaking of bones. However the fury and pain that echoed from the unicorn's maw was enough to trigger a grin to split his mouth, though Madyrn would have preferred to see the steed fall down in his muddy home as well. It must have been that mud which caused his hoof to slip off target, just as it had Tolio's hooves upon his chest. Eyes rolled in their sockets, as Madyrn's forelegs met the slippery earth once more, his crown retching away from the unicorn's side that he had so wished to taste blood upon. Curse this horned fiend, he was as slippery as the ground beneath them. But just as Madyrn's large hooves allowed him to get more of a grip on the earth beneath him, he would find his advantage over this opponent, and he would destroy him.

Distracted as he was with regaining his footing, the knight of flame did not notice that the other was towering above him until the critical moment. But Madyrn was not like others - his sense of self-preservation had left him the moment his control had slipped, the moment that raging wildfire that was his weapon had taken over. As Tolio rose above him, he did not see an attack to avoid - rather, he saw an opportunity to exploit. He was like a bulldozer set on full throttle, only stopping his forward momentum when he either ran out of fuel, or he hit something unmovable. His enemy was standing precariously upon his hind legs, one of them having suffered a bloody injury thanks to Madyrn himself. Madyrn was beneath him, bracing for impact - but also determined to plough into him, knock him to the ground, and pummel his horned skull into a million pieces. So he made to push into the brute, tucking his chin into his aching chest and launching himself to the left, towards the rearing unicorn.

Then the pain came.

Just as he made his motion, he felt the stallion's hooves come crashing down upon his own back. They landed over his lumbar region, one of them deflecting sideways over towards Madyrn's right flank due to the close proximity he was in to Tolio, the other landing squarely upon the region just left to his spine. It radiated throughout his entire back, even causing his hip to ache, and triggering his left hind limb to quaver in its resolve to keep pushing towards him, knock him flat, make him bleed, destroy. The bruise that would rise there would be large and hoof-shaped, the muscle beneath swollen and aching for weeks to come. Heat radiated from it shortly after the pain began, heat that was symbolic of the fire that fuelled this raging, out of control bulldozer, further towards his enemy, hoping to meet Tolio's unsteady hindend, primarily the left flank, with his own left shoulder, to take advantage of the precarious position Tolio was just in to lay his painful attack across Madyrn's broad back, and defeat him.


[ ooc :
708 words.
3/4 attack posts.
0/1 closing defence. ]
background pattern by webstreatsetc.deviantart.com

Tolio Posts: 110
Deceased
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.3hh :: 6 Years 8 Months Buff: NOVICE
Brit
#7
MADNESS IS LIKE GRAVITY. ALL IT TAKES . . . IS A LITTLE PUSH
</style>



This disgusting mutt will not get the better of him. His dirty blood will happily stain his hooves, his teeth, his horn that proudly signifies his better lineage. Even if that perfect crimson substance may stain the pure snow of his hind left leg, and possibly the disgusting walker of his opponent, the pain is worth it. He will win this, for his brethren, for the beautiful sinful angel he spied from the horizon, the soul he loved and possessed like a phantom, a ghost. Fire sears up his leg, it quakes and trembles like the mightiest of rages of the earth as it shakes and rattles like a mighty lion. Blood pours forth, nearly to the bone, sure to scar up the length of the long pillars that shoot him past the height of his prey. It spasms the muscles up his leg, quivering in his hindquarters, screaming and shuddering and demanding relief from his slimmer weight. In response he leans upon his right hind leg, taking nearly all weight off the injured one even as he used gravity to slam down hard on the left of Madyrn’s spine. The shock split up his legs as they scraped and tore down the massive beast’s left flank, the solid frame of his opponent one he’d never encountered before. Tolio had never fought a draft breed, and had also never battled in such a slick environment, and it was his downfall as, coming down towards the ground, bracing his right hind leg hard against the ground to steady himself, he saw that massive muscled shoulder shove towards him like a mountainside given the ability to move. A snarl sneaks upon his maw, angered at his own mistake, his own lack of experience in this field. He hates this nameless foe, this dirty hornless that dares to go up against him. The ingrate will either fall, or Tolio will leave his mark upon the behemoth with the rage of the devil that he suppresses beneath years of rigorous training.

There are no second place medals in war. Either you win, you lose, or you die.

Tolio intended to win.


The buff shoulder hits him hard, knocks the wind straight from his lungs, makes his vision swim and darken in patterns and clouds as the massive brute’s left shoulder caught hard a few inches past his left elbow, right against his ribs. As angry as he is at the blow, at the fact that it lands hard and solid in a way he cannot avoid or change, sure to bruise his ribs, he’s more than lucky that he was drawing down after his blow. Had he lingered any longer that high above the far older steed, he would have been knocked to the ground and the fight would have been over the moment those massive hooves targeted him once more. He grits his teeth until his jaw aches, and hopes with a sick vengeance that the old bastard wouldn't bounce back, wouldn't heal as quickly as Tolio would in his youth.

Right hind leg already hard against the ground to take the weight off his injured, spasming one, the shove still slides him across the earth and he leaves long trenches from where he is displaced from his original position. As he finally touches down halfway through the brutal connecting of bodies, large against lithe, he digs his bloody-colored forehooves into the earth, using the three legs available to him to push back against the slam that caught him so off-guard. His lungs struggle to bring air back in, wheezing; his left hind leg quakes and burns, and his forelegs ache softly from all the abuse of the mud. It flies up into his face, mercury eyes crinkling and squinting against the onslaught of thick liquid dirt. Disgusting, he muses, as it sprinkles the white of his face.

He struggles to inhale, lowers his crown, and pushes back hard instead of just bracing against the momentum. Aims his horn with a grimace towards the bastard’s left barrel and thigh. He will mark the psychotic warrior, will leave something upon his skin. Bitterly, he hopes the sharp tip of his crown will leave a long gash across Madyrn’s left thigh. His body aches, but Tolio is still smug over the fact he had harmed the other stallion, that his back would twinge and ache with every movement long after the invasion ended. If he could suffer through the fire burning up his hind left leg and left ribs, he would leave this disgusting territory with his crown high and with blood upon his frame that did not belong solely to him. Equine blood or not, he would take pride in putting the dirty-blooded psycho in his place.


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Word Count: 800
Post: 3/4

Image Credits

Madyrn Maskan Posts: 87
Deceased
Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 16
Whit
#8
The pain enveloped him completely.

It radiated down his back, throbbing horribly. It threatened to blind him more than the rage already had. It threatened to cripple him, if he would only heed its warning, and run away. Soon enough, the pain and the rage seemed to combine, to mix together and form a toxic brew that boiled and spat over the great pot it simmered in. Sadistic pleasure was enjoyed by the Knight of Shadow and Flame, as he felt the steed give to his pressure - though his wish of knocking him to the ground wasn't met, causing that pleasure to be swiftly consumed by the rage that burned so much brighter within the steed. When Tolio's hooves gained traction once more, another deep grunt vibrated from Madyrn's chest, as he was reminded of the kick his pectoral region experienced earlier. The slimmer beast pushed back against him, but they were caught in a stalemate, the mud underfoot making it difficult to gain any more ground, the same damp earth piled up behind his hooves and aiding his thick frame to hold its ground against the crimson and white steed.

Such proximity to the stallion alerted Madyrn to his movement just as Tolio began to sweep his crown. He could feel the steed's muscles bunching as they lifted his horned crown, and from the corner of his eye the glint of an ivory horn caught the moonlight. Immediately the bulky brute began to backpedal, sitting down upon his aching hindlegs as his fronts scrambled away. He was a reckless steed, prone to put himself at unnecessary risk, but he was not so stupid as to get on the wrong side of that natural weapon all unicorn's possessed. He turned then, leaning heavily upon his right hind, the one that was less affected by the ache in his back, and spun, away, away to the right. Still, the horn swiped at him, and his escape did not prevent it from slicing at his hide. The damage incurred was far less than what the unicorn originally intended, but as the blood across his left thigh dribbled over the 7 inch wideflap of skin that had been torn, a whole new being was unleashed into the fray.

Madyrn was built like a mountain. He was tall, he was formidable, he had a dark side and when the light struck him right, he had a light side too. But within him there was a red centre. The lava that was his blood ran down his leg now, and the mountain that was Madyrn rumbled in fury, as like a volcano he erupted. Before he was merely a pot simmering, something spitting over the edges. Now he was an unstable volcano, prone to explode and destroy everything in his path. He took a lunging stride away from the pain inflictor, before bowing his crown down between his knees, bracing all of his weight upon his forehand, and lifting his hindlegs up in a swift double-barrel kick. His left leg, afflicted as it was, did not lift as high or as fast as his right leg, but he was aiming for the skull of the beast that had just made a slice in his side. Perhaps he would fracture the nose of the beast, or even be so fortunate as to clash against that pesky horn, and snap it clean off. Should his attack miss, there was a good chance it would clash against the thick muscle of Tolio's nape, or even his chest, depending on how much the stallion had moved since Madyrn took his aim.

Heavily, Madyrn's feet landed, and he immediately held the left one off the ground, the mechanics of his leg still in working order but the pain of the cut combined with the exertion of his last attack, had caused him to move off in a hopping pace. Ears were still flattened against his skull, as the steed struggled in the mud that was churned up to almost a liquid beneath their feet. It was not far to slightly-less-churned-up ground, and Madyrn was making his way to said ground with hopes of being better able to balance upon his aching limbs.


[ ooc :
703 words.
4/4 attack posts.
0/1 closing defence. ]
background pattern by webstreatsetc.deviantart.com

Tolio Posts: 110
Deceased
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.3hh :: 6 Years 8 Months Buff: NOVICE
Brit
#9
MADNESS IS LIKE GRAVITY. ALL IT TAKES . . . IS A LITTLE PUSH
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Like two boulders they clash, but the crimson steed is lean and athletically powerful in contrast to his opponent’s bulky, thick build. Because of this, his hooves are the ones to slide within the thick substance, and though they are caught at a near-stop, he is the one leaving gouge marks from the initial impact. His left shoulder aches fiercely from slamming against him, left ribs throbbing as his breathing leveled, but still sounded wheezy and almost desperate. They’re pressed so close together, it makes his pale features crumple in disgust. It would take years to get the mutt’s smell of his coat, did he know how many dips he would have to take in the hotsprings?! Did he not know how bad that was for his coat?! This was not what he was thinking of when he envisioned a mud treatment.

How the massive mutt manages to drop his...bodacious booty away from his horn is beyond Tolio. Had he been a unicorn, maybe he would have appreciated the view. Even so, mercury eyes are deflected from the view, unable to see what the steed is doing, feeling only the jerk and pressure upon his cranium as his horn slices through skin. Solid it may be, it still puts weight on his head as he jerks it through the mutt’s hide. That was sure to be one helluva headache. Their shoulders are no longer locked, he must have moved to the right, towards the North-Eastern borders. Tolio isn’t complaining, his ribs in fact are wildly praising this new development. He hurts, he aches, everything twinges no matter how he moves. It only makes his mind sharper, the pain forcing him to focus. Do not let him win, Tolio. You are better than him, above him, he is not worth anger that will only injure you further. One good blow from those massive hooves and he’d have to be helped out of the Edge territory.

Everything is loud in his ears, the squelch of mud that they churn with their hooves, one feathered and one slim. It only makes it worse, slicker than a sweaty behind on a Tallsun day. And Tolio had done his fair share of rump rustling. The darkly coated, massive steed lurches away, and he suddenly doesn’t look like a titan in size any longer. Then again, Tolio is taller regardless of mass, maybe it was the battle influencing how he viewed things. Like a wolf after a rabbit, Tolio does not want to let him get far. Lunging after him, horn pointed like a compass towards the Western side of his homeland far in the distance, he nearly meets a hoof in friendly greeting. To the face. With the power of a sledgehammer. Right to the schnoz. Of course, instinct kicked in- ha, he really cracked himself up sometimes, but his ribs hurt too much to laugh- and he saved his beautiful face by sliding his hindquarters low, low, low beneath his long body. He slides, legs coated in mud from pastern, to cannon, to hock. Breast rises, head flings back towards the south, but there’s no stopping when they’ve trampled the mud and slickened it into a death trap.

Like a freight train, Madyrn’s hooves slammed into his right breast and the steed’s right hoof skimmed and scraped like a dull knife over the point of his right shoulder. It knocks him back, long legs stumbling and sliding so as not to go end-over-end backwards. For the second time, his breath leaves him. Was that his heartbeat, in his head? He could have sworn the expression was supposed to be ‘think with your heart’ but was it truly so literal? Damn, he didn’t ever want to follow it if these were the consequences.

Vision blurred and dizzied, flickering, he only saw the motion of movement as Madyrn hobbled away as if he’d rammed his horn into a...different place. Oh, but Tolio was of fleeter foot than that hulking monstrosity. He could only dream of being as quick as Tolio. Bare, slim hooves drew him forward- dear god where was he going oh shit just aim for the big black thing that’s moving- and advanced towards the brute on light steps, the thicker foliage-mud-combo only aiding him in chasing after the hobbling hunk. Ew, no, not a compliment. He may have hesitated, and he may be practically blind in pain and lack of oxygen, but he lowered his head and jerked forward as quickly as his hooves could carry him, sucking in air harshly, horn aimed for the juncture of Madyrn’s left crest and withers, to match the slash on his thigh.

Might as well favor a side, huh?


---
Word Count: 800
Post: 4/4

Great fight Whitticker~! ;D <3


Image Credits

Madyrn Maskan Posts: 87
Deceased
Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 16
Whit
#10
Bang, the connection was made, hooves collided with softer flesh. The impact shuddered up through his strong limbs, the left one chronically affected by the entire ordeal. As it descended from its height, it dragged along the ground, the pain from his back and thigh making it difficult to discern normal sensations - basically, every movement hurt. Putting his foot back down on the ground hurt, even though the injury was higher up. It radiated throughout his left hindquarter, burning down from the small of his back, intensifying over the flap of skin that bled down his thigh, and made him clumsy and unwilling to bear his full weight upon that left hind. So he shuffled, as hurriedly as he could, knowing that there was no more he could do for now. The control had returned to him, the rage slowly dissipating as the aches and pains in his body seemed to reawaken the conscious Madyrn, instead of the enraged Madyrn.

The dryer earth was before him, and he hobbled towards it, moving as fast as his aching, exhausted body would allow. Eyes rolled in their sockets, the whites showing as he tilted his cranium to his left, attempting to track the movement of the crimson stained steed who was invading his home. That ivory horn glinted once more in the moonlight, and with his apricot hued eyes he saw it make its way towards him - fast. Panic fuelled him now, no more was rage the reason why he reacted, but actual self-preservation. His own crown ducked down once more, as low as it was when he had kicked out just before, hovering at the level of his knees. His feet moved as swiftly as they were able, most of the weight loading onto his right side, as that was the direction he was moving - away from Tolio, away from the pain, away from everything that could and would destroy him. He was not usually one to run away, to abandon hope, to admit cowardice. But it was not abandonment of hope or cowardice that triggered this, it was simply sheer exhaustion, sheer will to live, and there was no living with that pesky stick pointed at his vitals.

Madyrn was a flame that would not be extinguished, not by this unicorn with his stick, not by this invasion. He had dimmed, he was a pile of glowing embers compared to the wildfire he began as, but he would not be extinguished this night. He lurched away from this enemy, though even as he did so, he felt the horn touch down. The lowering of his neck and the scrambled steps away from the unicorn had altered the target area. He felt the horn tangle in the mats of his dreadlocked mane that gathered at the base of his crest. No skin was broken, no blood shed, only a handful of wiry hair pulled loose from its roots. Madyrn kept moving as he felt this, the pain on his left causing a large, obvious limp, but still he pushed on, until firmer ground supported his weight underfoot, and that horn was no longer felt tangled in his tresses. Breathes rasped in and out of his lungs, burning through his respiratory system, but still he managed some deep, rumbling words as he detected the retreat of other enemies from their surrounding borders, as his kin fought and won.

"Time to go back to your frozen wasteland, dickweed." Smugness carved a grin upon his maw as he beheld the unicorn squarely in his vision, pausing his motion finally as he stood tall, nape arched proudly despite the wounds that ailed him. He was alive, he had done his deed for his herd, and he would be damned if this unicorn would get the benefit of seeing him openly admit defeat.

[ ooc :
642 words.
4/4 attack posts.
1/1 closing defence.

Thanks so much for a wicked fight, Brit <3333]
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Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#11


M a d r y n | T o l i o
- - - - -
By my verdict MADRYN is the winner.
Madryn receives 1 VP and earns one point for the Edge defenders.

MADRYN -- post 1 (attack only)

[Realism]
- 1| Attack: Bite toward Tolio's left croup. Since you mention simultaneously merging into a rear further down in this post, the bite would likely not land, as his front end is lifting upward.
+ 1| Attack: HULK SMASH toward the left buttock.

[Prose]
+ 1| Easy Read
+ 1| Emotion
0 | Flow: You should consider when writing simultaneous attacks such as the bite and rear how it would happen in real time, as it throws off the flow of the attacks that are concurrent. Writing them within the same paragraph might help to keep the reader from taking them as separate events.

TOLIO -- post 1

[Realism]
- 1| Defense: Moving forward is a good move here, but your damage is what bothered me. "...he stumbled as a shoulder barely kissed his croup from the left side..." -- You are allowing Madryn more leverage to his attack by moving away, so even a brush would have more force than a full-on smash from his shoulder to the hip. Consider what happens, for example, when your hand clips the edge of a plate hanging from the table, or when you hit the edge of the door rather than the center. Hitting on the edge sends an object of smaller mass flying! Since Tolio is moving during the hit, he has even less balance.
+ 1| Attack: Kicking toward Madryn's chest.
- 1| Borderline Powerplay: "...ending up with his crown pointed like a compass at the large stallion, facing the south-east borders." -- Here, you are undoubtedly placing where your opponent is directionally. What if he moved, running back into the trees? Why should Tolio be able to face south-east and that be exactly where Madryn is?

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

MADRYN -- post 2

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Using the mud to slicken the movement of the kick was a great idea.
+ 1| Attack: Left foreleg strike toward Tolio's left cannon. I originally was going to award a zero for this, since I doubt Madryn will be able to catch him, but you do mention the speed difference prior, and Tolio is trying hard to overcome the drag of mud.
+ 1| Attack: Bite toward the left flank.

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

TOLIO -- post 2

[Realism]
0 | Sidenote: "...Despite the fact that his breed could hardly rear, the dark brute lunges..." Draft horses are perfectly capable of rearing. Madryn is also part arabian, so he is built more like a heavier set Friesian.
- 1| Defense: Rearing and moving to redirect the bite. Bites are fast, and Tolio stops and ponders his options during the time Madryn is making these fluid motions. I just don't see Tolio having enough time to move out of the way, to be honest. Plus, I am uncertain why you would take an injury closer to the stifle than the flank? The flank is a much less delicate area, and is less involved in movement than the stifle. This, overall, just did not make sense.
- 1| Injury: Scrape to the cannon. A large hoof to a fragile cannon backed by a full arch of movement would snap that bone and probably render Tolio lame.
+ 1| Attack: hooves toward Madryn's lower spine.
- 1| Borderline Powerplay: "...the angle would have his breast aligning with Madyrn’s left flank..." -- Or, it could not. You already learned that Madryn can move away from your directives, and you may not dictate where your opponent is in relation to your character, aside from the injuries you are taking upon your own. i.e. hooves connecting with flesh.

[Prose]
- 1| Easy Read: I had to stop and re-read this several times in various places to understand what you are doing.
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow

MADRYN -- post 3

[Realism]
+ 1| Counter-attack: Pushing left toward Tolio in an attempt to knock him over.
0 | Injury: Hooves to the left of the spine and right flank. I think you downplayed the pain in this post to make Madryn's attack, but otherwise it was fine.

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

TOLIO -- post 3

[Realism]
- 1| Injury: Shoulder to the ribs. Madryn clearly states he takes injury to the right flank due to their close proximity, but you mention Tolio's hooves scraping the left side. They do not. This means that Tolio would have to raise again, then come down or slip off from Madryn's flank, which is not written. Therefore, he should have been hit while in the air.
+ 1| Attack: Horn toward the left barrel/thigh of Madryn.

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

MADRYN -- post 4

[Realism]
0 | Defense: Spinning on his right hind to minimize the hornslash damage to the let thigh. No real mention of pain for this injury, and I would think a flayed left thigh would hurt a hellova lot, even though you do incorporate it hindering his movements later.
+ 1| Attack: Kick toward Tolio's face.

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

TOLIO -- post 4

[Realism]
0 | Defense: Sliding back on Tolio's hindquarters. This reads as though you completely forgot the injury to Tolio's left hind earlier, both to his stifle and cannon. This maneuver should be difficult and painful. The injury was written well, though.
+ 1| Attack: Horn slash toward the left crest and withers.

[Prose]
+ 1| Easy Read
+ 1| Emotion: "...the thicker foliage-mud-combo only aiding him in chasing after the hobbling hunk. Ew, no, not a compliment." -- I lol'd.
0 | Flow: There were parts of this post, whether you mention him almost taking damage to his face and chasing after Madryn with his horn initially, that read as possible injuries or attacks when they are not. That is disruptive to the flow and makes for a jerky movement in the mental movie of this fight.

MADRYN -- post 5 (defense only)

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Head thrown down and front end shying toward the right.


MADRYN

[Bonus]
+ 2| Breed Comparison: You use the breed differences between Madryn and Tolio beautifully in this fight, when thinking of attacks and the amount of damage, mindful of the speed, and it worked out in your favor.
+ 2| Surroundings: Using the mud for a defense was brilliant! You keep the footing in mind, as well as using a tree to still Madryn at one point.
+ 1| Health: Least injured.

[Injuries]
None.

[Creativity]
+ 1| Mudslickened kick defense.

Comments: Madryn is awesome during this fight, and I believe that you have the mechanics down. You had creative ideas and you knew how to use Madryn's bulkier size to his advantage, rather than letting the speed of Tolio's build hinder him. Excellent fight!

TOLIO

[Bonus]
+ 2| Surroundings: You keep the mud in mind during this fight, having it hinder Tolio. The footing is always mentioned, good or ill, throughout all of your posts. I think your initial strategy to have Tolio hide in the trees was great as well.
+ 1| Breed Comparison: I think you tried to keep their height and build in mind and mentioned it often. However, the problem was that you often looked at your opponent's disadvantages and incorrectly assumed a couple of things. When using breed comparisons, try to think of what helps Tolio and how to use that.

[Injuries]
None.

[Creativity]
+ 1| Using the mud to hinder and help Tolio through footing. Flip-sides were cool to read.

Comments: I think you were too focused on your opponent's faults or hinderances during this battle, and not enough on what Tolio could be doing. You misread your opponent's posts in a couple of places, even if they were very clearly dictated. I also believe you made impossible changes to the time frame in certain areas. Also, another thing I noticed was that you were using the borders of the land to place Tolio's direction. That, however, does not help me at all. "Right", "left", "behind", "in front" etc used in a nondeclarative way help envision the battle, but saying "Tolio is facing the southeastern border" tells me nothing about his relation to Madryn in this battle. Overall, you did a good job!

TOTAL
Madryn - 73
Tolio - 61

Image Credit: dirkjankraan @ Flickr


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