Battle Type: Battle. Prize: XP plus bragging rights.
Character #1:Aislinn Bonded: - Magic: - Armor: - Weapons: -
Character #2:Ulric Bonded: - Magic: - Armor: - Weapons: -
A I S L I N N
do not go gentle into that good night.
rage, rage against the dying of the light.
It was no secret that the stormsinger despised the fever of summer months; finding solace in the darkness of cooler nights and the downpour of raging storms. But not in sunshine — never in the relentless heat, under the thumb of blinding light and desert-dry throats. A self-proclaimed night-owl, a lover of the stars and Calligo's alluring shadows, she had vanished from the castle with her blood singing for war. Her emotions had roiled and tumbled into an ugly mess that had her on a constant heaven-high and trench-low; until now, as she inhaled and began to carefully hone every feeling of anger, heartache, and savagery. With each strong pump of her wings cutting through the blissfully cool air, Aislinn wove her emotions into an armor in itself. She would not falter, nor break. But rise; bloodied and bruised, but strong.
The sun had sunk completely beneath the horizon, falling into a stupor of sleep as the gods stepped aside for the Goddess of Night. Her shadows of indigo and ebony reaching as far she could see. Drifting, she found her target — a large expanse of dirt and sand that had no doubt tasted the blood of other soldiers, as well as her own. Down, down, down, the winged fae spirals, landing in a rush of feathers and sweat. Hot air pants through her nostrils, her lungs burning sweetly, as she slowly stands to straighten herself. Her gaze adjusts and takes in the wide expanse of the plateau; shaking her braided mane impatiently. Tediously, she had plaited it; a true vision of the warrior-gypsy her mother had trained her to be. The deep red paint dripping down her face and around her orbs of blue. Aislinn was a sight to behold.. and ready to take on any who dared face her.
In the weeks since his arrival, Ulric had scarce allowed Delumine’s grand citadel out of his sight. New as he was, he had fallen into the role of a dutiful, vigilant warrior with ease, doing all that he could to assure the Dawn Court and its denizen’s continued safety. Yet as reluctant as the roan was to leave the land of the rising sun, one could not rightfully call themselves protector if they knew nothing of the areas beyond their own territory. What was it like in Solterra, Denocte and Tellasterra? Should their own warriors ever forge an attack against Delumine, what would be their weaknesses, their strengths, and how could they all be used against them?
It was with these thoughts that Ulric left the peaceful territory behind him with a promise to return in several days’ time. First, he had waded through a relatively calm section of the Rapax River, then made his way through the narrow passage between the Amare Creek and the base of the Veneror Peaks, taking in the remarkable landscape and making note of any heavily traveled paths that he could see, if any.
Eventually, the day was beginning to wind down and come to an end, the moon chasing the blistering sun from the sky in its stead. The place he now found himself in wasn’t unlike Delumine itself, save for the mountains that bordered it; the vast sky above was littered with bright stars, their soft light cast across the flat prairie that seemed to stretch for miles. Ulric had every intention on finding somewhere to catch a few hours worth of rest, for while his journey had been rather slow paced, he would need it to continue even further into Novus the following day. But before the silvered stallion could get far in his search for a spot that was just right, his ears twitched towards the furious sound of wings pumping in the distance.
’Come out, come out, wherever you are.’
He can’t place the voice, but curiosity fuels his feet into moving closer before he’s even given thought into it. In the distance he sees a proud looking mare, standing tall in an area that seems devoid of much plant life. Whatever is there has been beaten down, presumably by the countless battles that must have been waged here if the pungent aroma of blood and sweat finally hits him like a ton of bricks. Was this an arena for fighting, out in the middle of seemingly nowhere?
The mere thought of a spar is invigorating and chases away his mental exhaustion for the time being. He draws nearer until he steps foot onto the borderless arena, gilded eyes sweeping over his opponent and drinking in her features. She stands taller than him as most do, and while sporting an impressive, muscular physique, she isn’t as broad as Ulric himself. He surmised that they would probably be close in agility, but the roan knew better than to assume that it was anything more than that – an assumption.
Coming to a brief halt, Ulric dips his head in a customary greeting. Even if they aren’t from the same Courts and have never met, they have the same blood pulsing through their veins; that of a warrior, and that alone is enough to warrant respect for the silvered bay.
Only a moment passes from then before the roan moves. Ebony legs reach as far as they can to cover the distance between them, hooves barely striking the ground as he moves. As he goes, he becomes increasingly aware of the various holes that litter what he had once thought to be solid ground and does his best to remain aware of where each and every hoof thrums against the earth. As he rushes towards her, he directs himself to her right side, keeping his wings tucked tightly against his mottled sides. Just before he reaches her shoulder Ulric begins to put on the brakes, haunches tucking beneath him and then lifting him into an angled rear. His front hooves lash out with intent to pound against her back, and while he has no intentions of going easy on the mare, he is careful not to strike the delicate scapula of her wing.
"Sup"
Summary: Ulric walks into the circle and dips his head in a warrior-like salute. Charges forward towards Aislin’s left side, slows down enough to rear up near her right shoulder and strikes out with his hooves towards her back.
do not go gentle into that good night.
rage, rage against the dying of the light.
All she could see was the color red — the color of the blood broiling like dragon's breath in her veins, the color of the war-paint dripping down the long planes of her face. Deep crimson and rage. Heartbroken and agony. Her heart cleaved into pieces; a shredded, shriveled thing. She had taken the scraps of her emotions and woven them together, sewing them and crafting them into a plated armor. No, the stormsinger would not bow to her negative emotions.. but embrace them, hone them. Her mother, Freya, would be proud to say the least.
She stood proud in the center of the Steppe, her arrogant call blissfully answered as her ears caught the sounds of rustling leaves. An approaching taker, it seemed, as ice-blue orbs watched a stranger of speckled silver and blue appear out of the shadows. Her eyes flashed at the sight of his wings, nostrils flaring in anticipation. The air hummed as her muscles twitched. With a slow dip of her crown to her opponent, the stormsinger smiled, something wicked toying with her lips.
"Let's play."
Not more than a moment had passed before the neutral wall between them had dropped. Now, they were two warriors in the heat of battle. She braced herself, digging her hooves deep into the earth as the man rushed at her from her left side. Her ears rung with his thundering hooves, barely noticing his slower pace as he neared her; no, she was focused on tucking her wings close to her body in an attempt to keep his reach away from her body. Thoughts of possible blocks raced through her as with each step, every shimmer of the stars above them — their only audience besides the gods.
He was upon her then, and it was too late; his rear had her buckling, having made the mistake of locking her knees as hooves connected with the flesh of her spine. A cry of rage burst from something deep and untamed in her throat. With a booming swoosh, Aislinn spun swiftly, her wings snapping open to their full wing span as she attempted to smack him in the weak point of his back legs.. hopefully, possibly trying to knock her opponent into the ground.
And oh, her fury was the color red, as she panted hot air through her burning lungs and blood dripped from the scrap between her outstretched wings. Crimson and scarlet and impractical rage.
Summary: As Aislinn tries to think of ways to block Ulric, she takes a hit and his hooves open up a scrape on her back. Frustrated and furious (and not thinking clearly), she quickly spins and stretches out her wings, attempting to use the force of them to knock him down.
She is unmoving as he thunders on ever closer, standing stock still even as he reaches her right side and rises up. It proves to be a mistake on her part, as his hooves strike out and successfully make contact with her back.
A cry rips itself from her throat at that moment, primal and furious as it echoes across the barren steppe and burrows into his pinned ears. Just as gravity begins to bring him back down to earth, the obsidian warrior outstretches her wings, and for a moment Ulric expects her to take flight - in which case, he would be completely and utterly screwed - but she doesn't.
Her intention may be to smack the feathered appendage into his legs, and it does, striking the area just above his right gaskin and instinctively causing him to jerk his leg up in an awkward motion as his weight comes bearing back down to earth - but it does not have the desired effect. It was more an uncomfortable feeling than a painful one, but perhaps later it will bruise, the ghost of a memory of their battle.
But as Ulric brings his right leg back down to steady himself and his front feet finally grace the uneven ground beneath them, he pushes against it with his front legs to swing his front half to the right, closer to Aislinn's head, and aims to step on the very tip of her right wing with his left front hoof. A warrior he may be, willing to do whatever it took to protect hearth and home, but he would not unjustly go out of his way to truly damage another's wings - never the wings.
From there, hoping to have pinned the wing down, the roan swings his rear around closer to his temporary foe, dropping his head as he kicks out towards her hopefully more exposed, tender flank.
"Holla"
Summary: Is hit in the right gaskin by Aislinn's wing. Swings his front half around to try and pin her right wing to the ground by stepping on the tip of it. Swings rear around to the left and kicks out for her flank. Attack Used: 2 Attack(s) Left: 0 Block Used: 1 (pinning the wing if that counts??) Block(s) Left: 0 Item(s) Used: None
Response Deadline: September 10th, 2017 Tags: @Aislinn @kay @inkbone @Sid
HISTORY HAS ITS EYES ON YOU ➳ allcontact is permitted and encouraged
do not go gentle into that good night.
rage, rage against the dying of the light.
The stormsinger was all scarlet fury and frustration. She roars as her wings hit true with their mark as her opponent's leg jerks up at the contact. Her rage is a living beast of it's own; the screams of anger so loud that the trained warrior-gypsy could no longer find her thoughts. Uncommonly she cannot begin to process her next move.. maybe after all, her mother would be disappointed instead. For the stormsinger was all emotion — heartache ripping a hole into her soul, longing robbing her of breath. She could no longer differentiate her anger and hunger for the battlefield from her heartbreak.. a mistake that might end up costing her a shred of pride, as well as bruises and bloodied scrapes. The careful chinks of the armor that was her emotions was breaking; falling apart and shattering, flooding over her until she was gasping for breath.
Her mind racing, her vision blurred, Aislinn roared to break through the clouds of emotion in her thoughts. Like a screaming hurricane, the embodiment of summer thunderstorms, she snaps her large wings close to her muscled body as the stallion's hoof comes down down down.. nearly stepping on the tip on one of the feathered plumes. Her muscles tense and bunch under her ebony skin, wings stretching, the bloodied scrape on her back stinging with the movement. And suddenly she was airborne, a few feet off of the ground as the stallion whirled and spun his rear, hooves outstretched to find their mark.
His hooves kick at the air where her flank had been not moments before. Her wings beat against the sweet night air, blue orbs blinking and scanning as the fog in her mind struggled to clear. As she watches, Aislinn inhales slowly, launching her body downwards in a collected hush — a meteor, a cold star falling to earth — as she aims to ram her shoulder into her foe's open side.
@Ulric meeeh pooey post I'm sorry dearie D: "Aislinn speech."
Summary: Aislinn's Pandora's box of emotions are hindering her ability to think clearly. She snaps her wings away from Ulric before he can step on one, momentarily launching herself a few feet skyward before ramming her shoulder into his side.
Not only does his attempt to foley any further lashings from her wings fail, but as his hooves rise up and strike out with considerable force, he's left with the distressing realization that he hits absolutely nothing but the space where Aislinn had been only moments prior.
Gritting his teeth, the roan warrior tries to scramble forward and out of the way just as his hooves return once more to the earth, but by then it is too late. As balanced and sturdy a creature as he was, the force of the mare's attack throws him off balance, struggling to keep himself upright as his front feet pedal, desperately trying to avoid one of the many vermin holes that dotted their battleground. In the end, his feet splay out before him, only narrowly avoiding one of his legs disappearing into a nearby hole.
The pain he feels is instantaneous despite the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. It burns, radiating from the middle of his left shoulder all the way up to his withers and stemming down towards his elbow, causing him to inhale sharply as he straightens back up with an inward hiss. Perhaps it isn't the worst that he could suffer, but the blow upsets him deeply regardless; to lose ones balance in the midst of battle could spell disaster, especially if his attacker managed to get the upper hand even further by knocking him completely to the ground. How could he have allowed himself to be so sloppy, so foolish and brazen?
Already he knows the journey home will be considerably longer than what it had taken to get here, and though the victor was yet to be decided, Ulric could at least be satisfied knowing that he wouldn't be returning back to Delumine empty handed.
Raising his head and craning it towards his lithe opponent, he once again dips his head towards her. The fight is over, although much too soon in his eyes... even if his shoulder screamed in protest against the notion.
"Holla"
ooc - I'm so sorry for this post, my dear! I thought I had another day left and didn't realize that that wasn't the case until I was settling down for bed <___<'''
Summary: Is knocked square in the left shoulder and narrowly avoids falling into one of the prairie dog holes that litter the battleground Attack Used: 2 Attack(s) Left: 0 Block Used: 1 Block(s) Left: 0 Item(s) Used: None
do not go gentle into that good night.
rage, rage against the dying of the light.
The stormsinger looses a cry as her shoulder hits true, her weight ramming into her opponent's side as she falls. The stallion slips, faltering as his hooves give under the pressure of her slamming shoulder, whilst her body tumbles into the dry earth at his side. Her delicate crown smacks into the dirt, sand spraying into her eyes and nose as she struggles to regain her own balance. Oxygen shudders through her mouth and nostrils, the fae's muscles bunching beneath her as she tucks her long legs under her to stand. As she does, her muscles suddenly shiver and grow so so heavy. Her breath comes in thick, hot pants; head drooped low and neck arched and relaxed as her opponent too, tries to find his footing.
Aislinn's emotions have raged and thundered like a summer storm, now leaving exhaustion in it's wake. With every blink, sleepiness begins to burn in her eyes. She realizes it now; that she was a fool — a broken-hearted fool — to have found solace in bruises and blood this night. But she cannot turn back time in such a way; instead, a respectful smile easily lifts one side of her lips in an off-kilter grin. With a dip of her head, a soft chuckle rumbles in her throat, her ears pricking forward as she lifts up her crown. "Hello there," she replies in earnest; not only from solider to another, but possibly maybe from friend to friend. Her emotions, her crimson anger, and her ache have all but drained her of all energy that she had left.. leaving a sleepy quiet in it's wake as the stormsinger stood face-to-face with her once-opponent.
@Ulric this post is poo, I'm sorry. "Aislinn speech."
24/25 -- Based on creativity (originality, imagination, and attention to detail).
1st post: Introductary post, and not judged.
2nd post: I really like how she had a very primal, adrenaline-kick flight or fight response. Really nice to see an attack that is more a knee-jerk reaction than 'carefully' planned!
3rd post: Dive-bombing is always a fun move, although depending on the situation, can be bad for the offensive character. As always, your attention to detail is mesmerizing!
4th post: No official attacks.
18/25 -- Based on realism (mechanics and whether you accurately reflect your Health and Attack)
1st post: Introductary post, and not judged.
2nd post: Very fluid, and while maybe not the best decision for Aislinn, mistakes are what make things interesting.
3rd post: In this instance, it was a good choice since Aislinn was so close to the ground already - she wouldnt have been able to get too much momentum going to hurt herself. At the same time, using her shoulder is a slightly unrealistic move - as it would mean that she would have to angle herself so that her wing was precariously close to her foe and hitting the ground first. Personally, I would have used her chest - or maybe even the front of her shoulder, where it connects to her neck.
4th post: No official attacks.
12/15 -- Based on writing metrics (spelling, grammar, punctuation, run-on sentences, etc)
1st post: Introductary post, and not judged.
2nd post: Very good writing metrics with few, if any, mistakes! A stray run on sentence here and there.
3rd post: A few small mistakes here and there.
4th post: No official attacks.
Blocks 26/35
14/15 -- Based on creativity (originality, imagination, and attention to detail)
1st post: Introductary post, and not judged.
2nd post: While not an official block, I was still very impressed by Aislinn's emotions, inner turmoil, and thoughts distracting her, and her reaction to taking the hit. It all seemed very fluid and natural!
3rd post: Once again - her inner turmoil truly brings life to her characters and action. The picture I got in my head was very clear - a thousand yard stare, and a sudden "coming to" moment where she realized the danger through the fog.
4th post: Not an "official" block, but I did like seeing the aftermath of Aislinn's own attack. Watching her skid along the ground, get dirt in her eyes, and overall suffer for an attack that was done as a knee-jerk, instantaneous decision was very nice. Gave it a nice sense of reality and creativity!
10/15 -- Based on realism (mechanics and whether you accurately reflect your Health and Attack)
1st post: Introductary post, and not judged.
2nd post: No official blocks used.
3rd post: The make or break for this block was exactly how far up you decided Aislinn to go (as silly as that seems). The fact that you chose to keep her close to the ground but move her just out of danger's reach was a good choice. I've seen people before (not on Novus, but other sites I was on) "launch" characters into the air - and from a standing position, it's not easy to lift so much weight so quickly.
4th post: No official blocks used.
5/5 -- Based on writing metrics (spelling, grammar, punctuation, run-on sentences, etc)
1st post: Introductary post, and not judged.
2nd post: No official blocks used.
3rd post: Very good post! I liked the paragraph structures (they read very well), and the analogies were done nicely.
23/25 -- Based on creativity (originality, imagination, and attention to detail)
1st post: I was most impressed by your attention to detail regarding their surroundings, Dingo! Most people don't mention or take into account the holes that litter the soil, but you brought it to light and made it a serious concern to Ulric (and an important part in your post).
2nd post: Thus far, this is one of the most creative attacks I've seen in all the battles! I love how Ulric was very meticulous about only aiming for the tips of her wing - and while a harsher strike may have landed him a hit, Ulric intentionally avoiding that gave his actions a personality.
3rd post: No official attacks used.
20/25 -- Based on realism (mechanics and whether you accurately reflect your Health, Attack, and Bonded animal)
1st post: I think the option to go for a rearing attack was probably the best, given the situation (Aislinn being aware of Ulric's presence). It allowed him to face his opponent, and also not put too much kinetic energy into his attack like rushing would (as too much forward motion can be bad if the attack is dodged). His transition from a gallop to a skidding stop was very smooth, and worded well.
2nd post: I had to re-read the portion about against the earth to move his front half - maybe saying "pushes away from" would make the image more clear? Overall, very fluid motion that I was able to easily decipher after re-reading it the second time.
3rd post: No official attacks used.
10/15 -- Based on writing metrics (spelling, grammar, punctuation, run-on sentences, etc)
1st post: Mostly just small errors - like a few missing commas, etc!
2nd post: A couple run on sentences.
3rd post: No official attacks used.
Blocks 26/35
12/15 will be based on creativity (originality, imagination, and attention to detail)
1st post: No official blocks used.
2nd post: Official block used - but stepping on her wing doesn't classify as a block!
3rd post: Although you "officially" used your block, it wasn't actually a block! I do, however, feel that this should not count against you, as you made some very good defensive moves with Ulric in all your posts to lessen or more favorably take Aislinn's damage. The mental picture of Ulric 'splaying' out made me laugh, too!
11/15 will be based on realism (mechanics and whether you accurately reflect your Health, Attack, and Bonded animal)
1st post: No official blocks used.
2nd post: Official block used, but stepping on her wing doesn't classify as a block!
3rd post: No official blocks used. I'm actually glad he took this hit, as it would be nigh impossible for him to have avoided it.
3/5 will be based on writing metrics (spelling, grammar, punctuation, run-on sentences, etc)
1st post: No official blocks used.
2nd post: Official block used, but stepping on her wing doesn't classify as a block! Good writing metrics overall, with a few mistakes here and there.
All damage taken in the thread is still applicable and cannot be retconned!
AISLINN
Participate in a Battle or Challenge: +1 EXP
Win a Battle: +1 additional EXP
Win a Battle: +25 Signos TOTAL: +2 EXP
ULRIC
Participate in a Battle or Challenge: +1 EXP TOTAL: +1 EXP
Both character’s official experience (and signos) has been updated to reflect these changes, so there's no need to post in the Experience Updates or Signos Redemption threads! This thread is now locked and been archived.
the novus crew
the someday crew
11-16-2017, 12:19 AM - This post was last modified: 11-16-2017, 12:24 AM by inkbone
