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PM · 10-16-2017, 02:16 PM

Battle Type: BATTLE
Prize: Practice/exp!
Contact Made: Yep

Character #1: @Diarmuid
Bonded: None
Magic: None
Armor: None
Weapons: None

Character #2: @Israfel
Bonded: None
Magic: None
Armor: None
Weapons: None

The exiled knight is stripped of rank, of power and of purpose. A sword not wielded has few uses except to rust. A shield left to hang may only rot. The scars of the past whisper reminders of his failure in his muscles and bones. Marks of betrayal bitten deep into body and soul. These scars are the reward for his years of fealty. For blood spilled for a monarch bewitched. Now he has nothing.

And yet, there is hope.

An ivory maid, sun-kissed and fire-eyed, led him from the Tinea Swamp. She gave him the name of the land he walked upon and the Court which held it. Like a line thrown to a drowning man, she gave him something else as well. Something he could neither name nor describe. Something that made the deepest shadows of his mind seem somewhat less dark.

...a warrior of the Dusk Court.

And what does that mean? Normally Diarmuid is content to leave philosophy to scholars. His mind is not so quick or flexible as theirs, lacks the learning that lets them spar with words. And yet some days it feels like he has done nothing but think since he limped onto a ship bound for anywhere but the white cliffs of Sophra. For now he holds this rank, whatever its meaning.

Dusk Court Warrior

Is he to be sword or shield, tool or toy? He knows so little of the Sovreign that he cannot say. Today he is tired of thinking. Today, he strives to knock a little of the rust from the blade.

The Steppe is barren. It is far removed for the lush vibrancy of his birthplace. And yet when his dark hooves touch the edge of the beaten circle he feels a sense of familiarity. There is an instinctive loosening of the muscles, an ease and a confidence that fills him like a pitcher plunged into the sea. He walks the circle slowly, methodically, his blind eye turned towards the center. The red-dusted stallion knows the measure of the ring, the distance to it's center and the sturdiness of the footing. A tilt of his head notes the treachery of the holes in the ground.

All the while his good ear flicks and turns, listening. He must never cease moving, turning his head to look for the flash of ivory and gilt, listening for the turn of dirt under hoof or the rustle of wind over wing. Though he is first here for their spar he does not believe he will be waiting long beneath the sky blood-streaked with the last fingers of sunset.

"Israfel!" He calls out, voice ringing with an air of authority usually absent. The name lilts as it falls from his lips, rolling with the accent of his birthplace. There is a note of vibrant joy that rings just in the sound of her name. Reserved excitement for what is to come. He forgets in the moment how long it has been and the months of building muscle back in the ruins of his body. He only feels the vital rush of blood and the eager waiting the precedes a spar.

Diarmuid is a soldier. A soldier needs a duty. Perhaps he has found it in Terrastella.

Summary: Diarmuid walks around the edge of the dirt circle and calls out for Israfel.

Attack Used: 0
Attack(s) Left: 2
Block Used: 0
Block(s) Left: 1
Item(s) Used: /

Response Deadline: 10/23/2017
Tags: @Israfel, @~~kay~~, @inkbone, AND @Sid

Sparrow · 10-17-2017, 08:43 PM

Israfel

She arrived with adrenaline in her veins and laughter in her eyes, rosy pink lips pulled upwards in a knowing grin.

Diarmuid stood there before her amidst the dusty, trodden earth of the well-beaten circle, stationed beneath the dying embers of the evening sky like a proud sentinel and awaiting her arrival, the call of his deep summon echoing through the still air. He had summoned her, and she had come, just as they had agreed. Merely two soldiers they were, from different corners of the world, but fate had brought them together. What it held in store, Israfel was eager to discover.

"Diarmuid." The greeting was soft, reverent, respectful. One ally to another. They were not enemies here, and Israfel would not fight him as one. They were shield-siblings, sworn with the duty of protecting not only their home of Terrastella and the Dusk Court, but one another's back as well. It would be an honor to test his mettle as a shield-brother.

With an almost lazy sashay, the Daughter of the Sun stepped into the circle of tarnished earth, gilded hooves picking the path as she took note of the dips and holes that lay in waiting. It would be all too easy to trip or stumble upon such crude terrain, and Israfel knew she would need to keep focused on her opponent as well as the earth itself. It was not her ally here. She could always take to the sky and use that to her advantage, as her wings did gift her with the ability of flight, but not yet. Not today. For now, she would trade blows with Diarmuid on equal footing.

Sharp vermilion eyes drifted from a head held high, taking in the landscape around them. Veneror Peak stood proudly in all of its majesty to the north, standing witness to the oncoming spar. Behind them, to the south, churned the vast waves of the Terminus Sea. The east and west held nothing but a myriad of trees and shrubbery, obscuring the lands beyond, and neither elk, equine, or various other beast stood around to witness their brawl. For now it was just the two of them, and Israfel was completely alright with that. It would prove to be far less distracting that way.

Finally did her vibrant flaming gaze come to rest on Diarmuid, and it was he that she now assessed. There was no doubt about it that Diarmuid was build to be every inch a soldier, a knight familiar to the feel of steel and the song of battle. His physical appearance only seemed to exude that. Israfel herself was a taller stature than most females, but Diarmuid stood inches above her very own height. His height and breeding, however, she hoped to use to her advantage. Where he was thick in build with the blood of workhorses running through his veins, she was sleek and slender, her steps far lighter and quicker than his own thanks to her own mixture of stock and athlete. So long as she could remain one step ahead of him, Israfel was confident in her chances. That, and... Well.

Slowly Israfel's eyes lifted, roaming up Diarmuid's strong, muscular legs, his robust haunches, the dips and curves of a broad breast, up the tendons and muscle of his neck, to rest on his face. Or, more importantly, where his left eye, milky white and glazed with blindness, lay. The blight was turned away from where she stood, as she had approached on Diarmuid's right, not wishing to startle or alarm him. Yes. If she could somehow remain on his left side and take advantage of his blindness and deafness, then surely she, despite her own inexperience and lack of battle prowess, could stand a chance against such a seasoned veteran as the rose-grey stud.

Petite pale ears swiveled forward, and the ivory maiden's smile only grew. Her eyes danced in merriment, in excitement, in anticipation, ready for what was about to unfold. "I'll remain earth-bound. Let's test our skills on common ground. What do you say?"

Muscles coiled in preparation, taut and ready, for she was through with words. Upon her shoulders, the Sun Daughter's gilded wings stiffened and began to unfurl from against sleek sides, outstretching, but not to take flight. Instead, with a mighty shove and a mixed shout between a battle cry and a delighted laugh, Israfel lunged forward, her wings arching upwards before propelling her forward, nimble legs outstretched as she charged the distance that spanned between them at as fast a gallop as she dared.

Mid-charge, Israfel made her decision. As she was now, facing his right side should he not turn and address her head-on, she could not use Diarmuid's blindness to her advantage, and so she simply planned to rush him, and perhaps crowd him given her girth and wingspan. A few paces shy of potential collision, Israfel used her wings to assist in slowing down, the feathered appendages stretched outwards and catching resistance. As she slowed, Israfel lashed out with gnashing teeth, aiming to deliver a sharp bite to the raising swell of Diarmuid's right shoulder. Should he attempt to dodge her attack or proceed with an attack of his own, the ivory maiden hoped that her teeth would at least catch the flesh of his chest or his barrel, depending on his following move.

Through it all, the Sun Daughter smiled, vermilion eyes dancing with unparalleled thrill and joy.

x - x

Summary: Israfel arrives from the east, facing Diarmuid's right side. After some analysis, she attacks, charging straight on and aiming a bite for Diarmuid's right shoulder, all while attempting to crowd him with her approach and outstretched wings.

Attack Used: 1
Attack(s) Left: 1
Block Used: 0
Block(s) Left: 1
Item(s) Used: N/A

Response Deadline: 10/20/17
Tags: @Diarmuid, @~~kay~~, @inkbone, AND @Sid

PM · 10-18-2017, 09:40 AM

He watches her come, silk and steel- but that is too mundane to be a true description. She is a burning sword, lit but the fires for sunset, streaming silk banners and lilies like hearts of flame. He wishes, just for a moment, that she had flown down from the sun. What he wouldn't have given to see her aloft, haloed by light so bright that it deters the eye. That would be the setting for such beauty. Though they meet here as soldiers, there is part of him that does not forget that she is a woman, a lady.

The way his name falls from her leaps feels almost wrong, like desecration. But the smile on her lips and the laughter in her eyes ease any worry of worship. Let her rise- he would rather be the shoulders that support her. She could command hearts and minds, he thought, if she chose. Her movement is easy, graceful. Though he admires her at the same time he studies, taking in the lithe build and quick steps that speak to agility greater than his. Where she plans to use his greater size against him, he judges that he may use it to his advantage.

Laughter rolls from his throat as she watches him, guessing the reason for assesment because it matches his own. He studies the rolls of muscle beneath the sleek hide, lending both feminine curve and silken strength. The breadth of her chest and the power there, built he assumes from her time in the air as well as on the ground. Her broad wings he notes as both a weapon and a point of weakness, though he makes the quick decision to avoid them if possible. He is too unfamiliar fighting the winged ones- he doesn't know how hard it is to cause true harm there and he does not wish to maim during a spar meant only to try their skills. It would take the joy from it.

Her eyes linger on his face and he turns his face slightly from her, catching her gaze with his own good dark eyes. For a moment there is a flicker of something else beneath the excitement, carefully restrained. It is as fleeting as a whisper, untraceable. Self-conciousness or caution, it is too quick to be sure of and perhaps not even he knows what he feels in that instant.

The fire-maid gives up what he sees as her biggest advantage in choosing to remain earthbound and he feels a flicker of regret, though he nods all the same. "As you wish."

He has not had a chance to fight someone airborne- he has only watched from a distance as the winged knights trained and fought. Another time. The possibility of the future suddenly roars in the back of his mind- how long has it been since he has planned for this, even so small a future? It makes thunder of his heart and then there is no time because the muscles beneath her ivory pelt tense and then she is in motion.

The scarred knight has no time to admired the beauty of it. He is silent where she cries out, wheeling to face her head on. He does not dodge nor try to turn away. He only prepares, gathering himself and setting his weight. Her head snakes forward as she checks her speed but Diarmuid tries not to give her the chance. He drops his weight low- just a few inches of bent knee- and lunges forward to meet her dying her charge. Teeth slide across the slab of muscle and bone that makes up his powerful shoulder, the bruising force barely registering at first. The pain comes after a moment, overwhelming the endorphins that surge in his skin.

It is battle now.

He uses the force of his lunge to try and push up into the bite, to bring their chests together with the weight of his body behind it. He tries to give her head nowhere to go but up, keeping the gilt-etched sword she bears away from his face. His powerful neck curves, muscles screaming as scar tissue stretches and he tries to bury his teeth into the crest of her neck among the satin tresses. Ever he tries to keep her to his right.  If he can hold her, can stay close to her and press their bodies together, he can rob her of the use of her agility. This is in the forefront of his mind as he strikes.

His mind is wiped clean of past betrayal and future possibilities.

He drowns in the scent of lilies and heated flesh.

Summary: He meets her charge, taking her bite on his shoulder. He shoves his body into her, attempting to body check and stay too close for her to use her horn. He snakes his head around to try and grab the crest of her neck in his teeth, trying to grapple her or at least drive her away from his left side.

Attack Used: 1
Attack(s) Left: 1
Block Used: 0
Block(s) Left: 1
Item(s) Used: N/A

Response Deadline: 10/21/2017
Tags: @Israfel, @~~kay~~, @inkbone, AND @Sid

Sparrow · 10-20-2017, 08:56 PM

Israfel

Now was the time. She was the daughter of Gods and Saints, a creature of both heaven and earth, cloaked in ivory and gold and sent to walk among the mortals from the depths of the undead. Bathed in the crimson light of the dying sun, morale bolstered from the winds of change and promise, Israfel made her first strike as a warrior of Terrastella.

Are you watching, Papa? She beckoned eagerly to the dying sun, wondering if her Godly father was watching her from his place among the heavens. Could he even see her here in Novus? Were his eyes, as mighty and reverent as the rest of him, blocked by the veil between worlds?

There was a moment of immense satisfaction as her teeth latched onto rose-grey hair and flesh, the dull points of her incisors snapping shut and holding tight to the skin of Diarmuid's right shoulder in a crude, pinching chomp. The taste of sweat and a tinge of copper filled her mouth, coating her tongue, but she pushed on past the unsavory flavor. That moment of elation, of victory for something so mundane as a simple bite, however, was vastly short lived, because then, well...

Then, collision. Breathless, gasping, reeling. Israfel was not prepared, thanks to her inexperience when it came to all things battle. There was a fleeting moment of panic, of misunderstanding and confusion as her mind rapidly tried to process what had happened, before it all sank in. Diarmuid had stood his ground despite her brazen charge, and as her bite landed successfully against his shoulder, he lunged into her space, the broad, muscled expanse of his front colliding into her slighter, ivory breast. A pained, startled gasp inadvertently escaped rosy lips, sharp vermilion eyes wide and bewildered. It both ached and winded her, the shock seeming to reverberate through her very core. She heaved, trying to catch her breath. His move served its purpose, staggering the Sun Daughter where she stood, wings splayed outwards to the left and right of her trembling frame, winded and momentarily frozen. The sheer force of the collision was enough to wrench Diarmuid's flesh from between her teeth, her head knocking upwards and away from his right shoulder.

The silver knight, however, was not done. He reached out, the thick tendons in his neck straining and taut, before his teeth latched onto the curve of her crest in the middle of her neck. It did not hurt, not completely, but there was an ache to where he held her in a successful grapple, preventing her from pulling away nor attacking him once more. In agitation, her wings gave a mighty flap, gilded alabaster appendages raising before sweeping sharply downwards in an attempt to free herself.

For a moment, a brief, fleeting moment, Israfel thought to rear high into the air to wrench herself free of his hold. The thought was quick to leave her mind, sound judgement overruling blind panic. To rear upon her haunches and attempt to wrest herself free would give Diarmuid the perfect opportunity to charge forward and use his considerable bulk against her. Knocking her onto her back would be far too easy given their difference in build, and so Israfel dismissed the thought just as quickly as it had arrived. No. If she wouldn't rear, then what could she do...?

The thought came to her quite suddenly, and she realized that she needed to act before the moment was lost. Still standing intimately close to him, their chests pressed together, his teeth wrapped tight around her in a submissive hold, her head still pressed against the curve of his right shoulder, the Sun Daughter's petite ears pressed back against the poll of her skull. Back arching, gilded wings once more lifted into the air, elegant feathers full of deceptive strength raising into an arc above their heads, a halo of divine flesh and bone, before sweeping downwards and back, giving her the momentum that she so desperately needed. In time with the thrust of her wings, Israfel ducked to the side and lunged, round haunches pushing off of the ground as she physically, and rather crudely, ripped herself free from Diarmuid's toothy hold and jumped forward to his right. She winced, a thick lock of ivory tresses ripping from her crest from the force of her leap, but she could not mourn the loss of hair. Not yet. Perhaps once, before her death, she would have lamented the loss of such fine hair, always vain over her looks, but she was not that same ignorant, materialistic youth.

No. She was a warrior. She was volatile and passionate, dangerous and carefree, an unforgiving wildfire personified. Once ignited, she could not be doused. Israfel would incinerate her course until satisfied, and while an ally, Diarmuid would know well just how deep her fires could burn.

Now free of Diarmuid's hold, poised horizontal to his right side, her head towards his muscled rump, Israfel turned her front away, pivoting to her right to avoid any kick he might think to send in her direction. Instead of fleeing and forgetting any intention on exploiting his left side, she retaliated but remained close, bracing her forelegs and kicking out backwards with both hind legs in a buck, hoping to land a hit against the silver knight's right shoulder, the same that she had already bitten.

The battle was waging. It was now, and Israfel was not ready to give up.

x - x

Summary: Israfel took Diarmuid's hit, pained and winded by his collision, and was grappled by his attack. In hopes to free herself, Israfel lunges to Diarmuid's right side and loses a mouthful of mane in the process. Standing parallel to his right side, head to rump, she attempts to kick out backwards towards his right shoulder.

Attack Used: 2
Attack(s) Left: 0
Block Used: 0
Block(s) Left: 1
Item(s) Used: N/A

Response Deadline: 10/23/17
Tags: @Diarmuid, @~~kay~~, @inkbone, AND @Sid

PM · 10-24-2017, 09:18 AM

The shock of impact radiates through muscle and bone, shivering down his spine and through his legs thrust like pylons into the earth. His pendant, caught between them, pressed deeply into the rose-grey hide as though to mark the place of his heart, to catch in a cage of spun copper. Though she is slighter, there is a solid-ness he had not really anticipated. Despite her wings she was not so bird-light and her body had weight to it. Though her inexperience showed in little flashes here and there, he imagined that it wouldn't take much for her to be every bit as good as any other warrior who braved this stepped.

And he doubted she would be caught off guard by such a trick again.

Of course, there were always the wings. He felt muscles surge beneath his teeth as her great wings beat, loosening his grip a little on her crest. Then again, but this time with purpose rather than panic the great white sails beat the air and she lunged past him. He couldn't move in time to block her. Ivory silk fluttered down from his jaws, shaken free of his teeth with a quick jerk of his head. His eyes squinted against the little dust raised by her wings and their dance.

He started to wheel, to follow her and keep his good eye on her. Then he caught the shift of her gilded hooves and he realized that her strongest weapon was now aimed towards him and that move put him dangerously side-on to her muscular hind. Slick as silk and fast as wildfire, she was more beautiful in the heat of battle, framed by twilight sky. In the dusk, she did not need the sun to halo her in radiance. She shown with her own vibrancy.

The scarred knight lunges backward, and awkward motion that he makes almost elegant with a surety of purpose. Her hooves strike the air just before his nose but he is no longer watching them. Instead he braces his rear hooves and rears with a bellow of challenge, the first such sound he has uttered this spar. It is deep as thunder, primal music. Coal black hooves lash out towards her flank. The strenght is a little less from his bruised shoulder and he can feel the ache of it as the skin stretches and blood weeps from the abrasions of her teeth.

Sweat has already begun to darken his pewter hide, though he has been careful to conserve his endurance. He is not in as peak a condition as he was a year ago before the lightning left it's mark on him and he can feel the strain of it in his shortness of wind. And yet something in him is alight with the joy of the fight. He was born and raised for war- it is his steady companion, a friend whom he understand more than perhaps anything else. All this time he has spent in Dusk Court he has struggled with people. With meeting them, understanding them, trying to find his place among them. That is so much harder than this.

This he understands. And yet, it cannot last much longer. His body is already feeling the strain of adrenaline and muscles put to serious use that have not been tested in too long. So he does not follow up on his strike, dropping back to the earth and concentrating on catching his breath.

"That counter charge wouldn't have worked if you were expecting it," he admits with a breathless laugh, dark eye bright with a liveliness that is uncommon to the reserved knight.

Summary: Diarmuid BLOCKS by lunging backwards to avoid her hooves, then rears and tries to clobber her with his hooves before she recovers from her buck.

Attack Used: 2
Attack(s) Left: 0
Block Used: 1
Block(s) Left: 0
Item(s) Used: None!

Response Deadline: 10/27/2017
Tags: @Israfel, @~~kay~~, @inkbone, AND @Sid

Shoot, I didn't realize I was a day late! Dangit!

Sparrow · 10-26-2017, 08:21 PM

Israfel

There was no collision with her blow. It was empty, hollow, no force rushing to meet gilded hooves at the apex of her strike. In turn, there was no satisfaction in its wake, only bitter disappointment for an opportunity missed. If this had been war or a battle to the death, such a result could prove to be her downfall. Somehow, despite his size and the upturned, hole-riddled earth below their feet, Diarmuid was capable of strafing out of range and avoiding her attack completely. He did so with the swiftness and poise of a seasoned veteran, a learned soldier familiar with tactics of the like she had just attempted. Was it a rookie move, the one she had just used? Had he been able to see her attack before she had even implemented it?

Gritting her teeth as her rear haunches landed heavily back upon the dusty earth, Israfel planned to swing around and face the rose-grey knight head on, but the choice was quickly taken from her. With a warning bellow, a deep, rumbling baritone echoing into the air from the lips of the previously silent stallion, Diarmuid retaliated at last with a grand show of force. It was the first true hostile act that he had taken against her, the bite to her crest notwithstanding, and Israfel found herself alarmed by it. Heavy muscled pulled taut with his motions, the sweat that mottled his hide standing out starkly against the natural grey of him. He was a weapon, a mighty creation bred and groomed for war, and she was his unfortunate adversary.

He reared, black hooves striking outwards like deadly knives, and the Sun Daughter found herself gawking but for a moment before desperation spurred her to act. With a less than graceful maneuver, the ivory maiden's gilded wings snapped upwards in a great unfurling motion, lifting skyward, erect and proud, and then swept downwards in a mighty arc to help her propel from the ground, but not to take flight. Dust kicked up beneath the current created from the action, and Israfel threw herself bodily to the right to avoid his strike, aided by the strength of her wings.

Diarmuid's hooves brushed against the supple curvature of her rump amidst her hastily thrown together escape. It did not hurt and felt simply like a scraping pressure, but the distance that she had managed to obtain was enough to dispel the true force of the blow. Cloven hooves scrabbled for purchase amidst the treacherous ground, the panic of her mind overriding the necessary caution she had once held at the fore front of her mind. As she found her balance, limber legs swaying and trembling from exertion, Israfel's sharp vermilion eyes turned to focus completely on Diarmuid.

The kindly knight was once again on all fours, facing her, his expression warm and welcoming and so very alive with the aftermath of adrenaline. Israfel understood. Her blood continued to pump, that steady, constant reminder that she was alive thrumming in her ears, the pale plains of her chest and barrel heaving as she attempted to catch her breath. Exertion to this degree was something that she was not yet used to, but by the Gods if she wasn't satisfied.

Rose-kissed lips twisted upwards, and once again, she laughed. It was a merry, hearty sound, innocent and sweet and so very lively. "You're right," she conceded, all smiles and joy, and with a languid stretch of her wings, she moved to approach the stallion's side, hooves once more trekking carefully atop the upturned earth. "I definitely won't be falling for that again."

There they were, two strangers tied together by the same desire to protect a singular place that they both called home. What a pair they made. She surely looked awry; sweat-soaked, gilded hair wild and mussed, a sizable chunk of her mane missing from where Diarmuid had ripped it from her crest. Ah, well. It would grow back.

"What a fight. Thank you, Diarmuid. I haven't felt so alive in a very long time." Diarmuid could not possibly know the truth to her words. Israfel went on, however, ears forward, posture relaxing, the thrum of adrenaline slowly fading, to be replaced by the aches of their tussle. "... Maybe we should be getting back to the Court before the night grows late."

x - x

<3 <3 This was so much fun! Thank you so much for sparring with me, Rien!

Summary: Israfel BLOCKS Diarmuid's attack by attempting to throw herself to the right, just managing to avoid his hooves.

Attack Used: 2
Attack(s) Left: 0
Block Used: 1
Block(s) Left: 0
Item(s) Used: N/A

Response Deadline: Spar Complete!
Tags: @Diarmuid, @~~kay~~, @inkbone, AND @Sid

PM · 01-27-2018, 11:02 PM

DIARMIUD vs ISRAFEL

@Diarmuid - Total: 78/100

Attacks 45/55
- 22/30 -- Based on creativity of your offense (originality, imagination, and attention to detail).
- 23/25 -- Based on realism of your offense (mechanics and whether you accurately reflect your Health and Attack)
  - 1st post: Introductary post, and not judged. No offense or defense in this post, per the standard. Does not count against score.
  - 2nd post: Since he does have the greater weight, I can see this actually working to his advantage by shaking her up a bit. It flows pretty well.
  - 3rd post: I love that he sits back and then rears up over top of her! It follows his block really well in my opinion, and seems like a good final attack when they’re already in such close proximity.
Blocks 22/30
- 13/15 -- Based on creativity of your defense (originality, imagination, and attention to detail)
  - 1st post: No defense in this post, per the standard. Does not count against score.
  - 2nd post: No defense in this post, per the standard. Does not count against score.
  - 3rd post: I find it kind of comical that he backs up and finds him nose-to-hoof with her kick lmao, I can just imagine him looking down the bridge of his nose and seeing her hooves fly past his face. It was fun to read! Even though all he did was back up, I was interested and enjoyed the knee jerk reactions.
- 9/15 -- Based on realism of your defense (mechanics and whether you accurately reflect your Health and Attack)
  - 1st post: No defense in this post, per the standard. Does not count against score.
  - 2nd post: No defense in this post, per the standard. Does not count against score.
  - 3rd post: I’m not so sure about the realism, I’m having a bit of a hard time understanding how he could move backwards fast enough to block her kick if he saw it coming after she turned, and earlier he wasn’t able to block her from moving away from him earlier. Either way, backing up to avoid the kick does seem realistic!
Writing Metrics 11/15
- 4/5 -- Based on overall writing creativity (originality, imagination, and attention to detail)
  - 1st post: I love how much insight we get into him, how he’s going back to his roots of battle. Seeing as it’s a pretty standard introductory/waiting post, I like how you spruced it up by providing the internal dialogue.
  - 2nd post: I love that he is paying attention to her horn and her agility and how that influences his attack; he’s analyzing her like a real warrior might. It gives a really good insight into him and his experience as a fighter that I enjoy.
  - 3rd post: He’s so focused on her and I love it, how he’s watching her moves and reacting entirely to her.
- 3.5/5 -- Based on overall realism (physical mechanics and whether you accurately reflect your Health, Attack, Magic Level, and Bonded)
  - 1st post: N/A
  - 2nd post: He stays true to his 10 Health and 10 Attack, seems to maintain a good balance.
  - 3rd post: I find it just a little hard to imagine he was able to back up in time to avoid her attack, considering he couldn’t block her from getting away from him just a paragraph before, but I do like that he rears up over top of her! That, especially after him sliding backwards, definitely seems to work~ Also feel like his injury and the way you played it, as well as the ending to the battle, was definitely realistic.
- 3.5/5 -- Based on writing metrics (spelling, grammar, punctuation, run-on sentences, etc)
  - 1st post: The writing seemed a little choppy here at the beginning of the battle, with simple sentences and few transitions, and made it a bit harder to really get the feel of it. A few grammatical mistakes—a missing period, “for” vs “from” in the 8th paragraph, switches a bit between past and present tense throughout. Overall gives a good feel for why he’s there, and I like seeing the transition in his thinking and how he views his role!
  - 2nd post: Switches between tenses, but definitely not distractingly so. I believe in the second paragraph you mean “lips”, not “leaps”? Couple other weird spelling bluffs or weird wording that had me rereading it towards the end.
  - 3rd post: A bit of the word choices at the beginning threw me off (pylons? pendant?) but I think your writing really picked up in this post once you had so much to reply to! Again the switching tenses, but not too many grammatical or spelling errors that I could find.

@Israfel - Total: 81/100

Attacks 48/55
- 27/30 -- Based on creativity of your offense (originality, imagination, and attention to detail).
- 21/25 -- Based on realism of your offense (mechanics and whether you accurately reflect your Health and Attack)
  - 1st post: For the most part I can envision this actually playing out in my mind
  - 2nd post: I like the way you handled this attack, and that you thought to exploit his bitten shoulder.
  - 3rd post: No offense or defense in this post, per the standard. Does not count against score.
Blocks 20/30
- 11/15 -- Based on creativity of your defense (originality, imagination, and attention to detail)
  - 1st post: No defense in this post, per the standard. Does not count against score.
  - 2nd post: No defense in this post, per the standard. Does not count against score.
  - 3rd post: I like that she used her wings without actually flying away, like she’d promised him earlier!
- 9/15 -- Based on realism of your defense (mechanics and whether you accurately reflect your Health and Attack)
  - 1st post: No defense in this post, per the standard. Does not count against score.
  - 2nd post: No defense in this post, per the standard. Does not count against score.
  - 3rd post: I imagine a move like that with her wings would bring her up (and thus closer to his attack) rather than to the right, to dodge it? I do like that she wasn’t able to block him entirely, since she saw his attack coming a little late.
Writing Metrics 13/15
- 5/5 -- Based on overall writing creativity (originality, imagination, and attention to detail)
  - 1st post: I love the feel we get for her in the first post, there’s so much attention to detail in her taking in the plains, the scenery, the surrounding lands, and her assessment of Diarmuid.
  - 2nd post: Ahh and I thought the last post gave insight on her! Those first few paragraphs are such a perfect lead in for her attack, like I understand her place on the battlefield here.
  - 3rd post: The ending to this battle was just perfect, with her trembling a bit from the exertion and fatigue and adrenaline, before turning to face him as a fellow soldier. I really like their interaction here at the end (and her noticing the chunk missing from her mane made me smile).
- 4/5 -- Based on overall realism (physical mechanics and whether you accurately reflect your Health, Attack, Magic Level, and Bonded)
  - 1st post: I like that her attack was a little more bland because she does have a lower stat for that, a simple charge would be accurate!
  - 2nd post: I like the detail even in her simple bite, it really pulls the whole thing together for me. The collision too makes sense, seeing as his bigger size would shake her up quite a bit, not giving her time to even try to block, and I think you played true to her stats here!
  - 3rd post: I always love reading about character’s missed attacks and their reaction to it! It really seemed to fit her and her spirit, and I enjoyed it. In addition, the way his hooves scraped her flank as he reared over her was a nice touch, and her scrambling out of his way like that would create more of a glancing blow like you described than anything substantial.
- 4/5 -- Based on writing metrics (spelling, grammar, punctuation, run-on sentences, etc)
  - 1st post: I like your balance between her observations of the surroundings and her internal dialogue, it helps to set the stage not only physically, but provide a nice insight to her character. A bit of a strange mix between fragments and run-on sentences. The language use does get a little repetitive in the 6th paragraph and on, but few spelling mistakes that I could spot.
  - 2nd post: It seems like your writing style pulled together here, and it really drew me in. A few more run-on sentences, but otherwise good! It was all pretty easy to read and understand what she was doing.
  - 3rd post: A few spelling bluffs (such as muscled when you mean muscles, as in his muscles), a bit of switching past and present tense, but overall it flowed pretty well.

PM · 01-27-2018, 11:11 PM

DICE ROLL

@DIARMUID:
78 (battle total) + 20 (HTH + ATK) = 98
98 * 1.10 (10 EXP) = 108 (rounded up)

@Israfel:
81 (battle total) + 20 (HTH + ATK) = 101
101 * 1.10 (10 EXP) = 111 (rounded down)

108 + 111 = 219

1-108 = DIARMUID, 109-219 = ISRAFEL

#1: 141 (ISRAFEL)
#2: 185 (ISRAFEL)
#3: 147 (ISRAFEL)
#4: 131 (ISRAFEL)
#5: 97 (DIARMUID)

proof of dice roll.
@Israfel wins.

All damage taken in the thread is still applicable and cannot be retconned!

Participate in a Battle or Challenge: +1 EXP to Diarmuid, +1 EXP to Israfel
Win a Battle: +1 additional EXP to Israfel
Total: +1 EXP to Diarmuid, +1 EXP to Israefl.

Both characters' official experience has been updated to reflect these changes, so there's no need to post in the Experience Updates thread!

This thread is now locked and been archived.

PM · 01-27-2018, 11:15 PM

STAFF ANNOUNCEMENT

In addition to the above rewards, I would like to extend my sincerest apologies to both @Sparrow and @Rien - from myself, and the rest of the staff. How long this battle took to judge was 100% unacceptable on our part, and we feel awful about it. ;;

Following Inkbone's example in a past battle judgement (knowing this is a poor apology but wanted to recognize our mistake as staff) both Rien and Sparrow have been given an additional 300 signos each due to the circumstances surrounding this. Once again..guys I'm really sorry about how long this took, and I really hope this doesn't affect your future participation in battling, because this was great to read (and hard to judge, you both did phenomenal).

Staff are working on doing better in the future in regards to this.
If you have any questions, please feel free to PM me directly or message me on Discord.

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