(1/2) +5 Explore the borders of a pride or group
please notify me if you are going to attack so i have a heads up!
Leilani had a restless night, one that brought her out of her den once the sun began to rise, the light breaking through the fading night sky. At first she spent some time grooming herself, getting dried mud off of her fur and paws, slow and methodical in her actions. Her mane, while a bit disheveled, would be left alone for now, and after a little while the abyss woman would make her way toward a section of Caladan's borders. She wanted to thoroughly inspect and explore this new pride as much as she could, and one way of doing that was to take her time venturing, exploring the territory in sections.

Pink eyes took in her surroundings, studying the lay of the land and the certain types of plants and trees that grew here. They were quite different than what she had seen in the places she had explored in Amaryllis - unique and different. While she sniffed at one of the palm trees a sudden call would ring out into the ocean air, causing for Leilani to freeze in her tracks. The sound was dangerously close, and not only that but it also was a challenge - a challenge for the Cove.

With widened eyes and now tensed muscles would the lioness slink her way cautiously through the beach, the sounds of numerous fights and gossip from spectators alerting her where they were long before her eyes landed upon them all. Her ears would twist forward slightly, and having to force each one of her steps toward the crowd, Leilani would find a spot near the back to settle and watch. She caught sight of two of her pride mates already engaged in fights of their own, her heart beginning to thrum a bit quicker at the thought of having to be tossed into her own battle. It didn't go well her first and only time at fighting, and she was more than terrified of the same outcome happening to her again.

She was built for hunting, not fighting.

ART BY ERA, CODE BY LARS

(1/2) +5 Gather useful information on a enemy lion or pride
(1/2) +5 Observe a fight (ottilie vs fernweh)
please notify me if you are going to attack so i have a heads up!
Ah.

He assumed that Vater would want his presence here, but that didn't mean Vulefram was going to put any more pep in his step than was typical of him, which wasn't much. So when he heard the loud chuff of summoning from his sire he would remove himself from laying outstretched in front of his den and begin to pad forward, following the direction Alaric was going. To say that he was happy to have to make his way all the way over to Caladan would be a lie, and instead he wished he hadn't heeded the call. But as as a son of an ambitious and grand ruler such as Vater, Wolf craved nothing more than to fight for an iota of attention and praise from the man.

Onyx body slunk forward as rough terrain turned into sand, the feeling of it in between his toes something that caused for his lips to curl in distaste. How could any lion enjoy the grating feeling of that? And the sun! He was feeling quite hot by the time he made his way over toward @Alaric, @Luther ♔ and @Sláine, coal eyes roaming over them and to the rest of the chaos that was blooming here. He'd catch sight of a peach man attacking another, a dark furred lion throwing himself at a lighter colored one, and then... was that @Ottilie? "Otti sure has some spunk, am I right?" His comment would be spoken aloud to nobody in particular as she settled near his family, tail twitching behind him.

He wondered if he would have to fight here today, and for a moment he felt wave of nervousness come over him with the thought of Alaric possibly seeing him fight. He had been beaten by a girl not too long ago and his ego was still healing from it, and no way was he going to inform any of his family about that incident. Nope. "Who is that one challenging?" Vulferam didn't make it in time for any information to hit his ears, so him asking didn't seem too out of place for him.

ART & CODE BY LARS, MODIFIED BY GUNNER
*DO NOT USE WITHOUT PERMISSION!!*

if @Asteria and @Nazonal left, you could bet one thing - beetle was sneaking out, too. he left some time, cooed his twin sisters to sleep (and, at this age, he still really didn't know which one of them was which), delicate nudges given to each baby sibling, and followed in the pawprints of their mother.

by the time he approached, @Nero was also there, and beetle dipped his head a little in greeting, argentine eyes cast between asteria and naz. "w-what's happening?" he enquired softly, unsure who was fighting, what the fighting was for, who's side they were on - if any - and why they were there. it seemed chaotic, several scuffles breaking out around them, and he felt his hackles raising. do not touch us.

Assassin Level 2: Able to fabricate pride scents (Caladan Cove)

A challenger called for the attention of Amaryllis, and Celestia was no stranger to such an event. The woman found herself approaching a territory that she had never visited before. She knew that there was a likely chance of breaking pride law if she chose to cross its borders. Yet, she couldn’t help but notice that quite a few Andal lions had already arrived.

Celestia knew what she had to do.

She laid down upon the sand, rolling in it and making sure it covered up her fur. With wits like a fox, she made sure to get some sand directly from the border markings upon her fur. Now she smelt strongly of the lions of Caladan Cove. If they found her now, she would simply introduce herself as a freshly new recruit. How would they know, if they couldn’t confirm with their leader? There would be no time to ask during such an important challenge, right?

She crept closer to the scene, her soft gaze peering and successfully finding Lilliana through the crowd. Despite everything, the two lionesses found themselves observing another bloody challenge.

Celestia looked around quickly, hoping nobody would truly notice, and she swiftly found a rocky outcrop not too far off. This time she would hide once again, peering over. Hopefully, nobody would question her with the new pride scent on her fur.

/ Celestia is trying to stay hidden. /

+10 Sneak into another pride's territory without getting caught
+10 Successfully stay hidden for the duration of a thread
+5 Practice speed or stealth

celestia savante

code by corvus

WE'RE BORN INTO THE GRAVE

His arrival, though not entirely out of its own breed of Dignified, is not that of a graceful monarch. He is stirred from the stony hollow laden in tattered furs and bones, their grinning jawlines upheaved by the ascent; not some luxuriant stride of sovereign repose but the chainmail clink of rolling musculature. Its beastly rove pulled through the shadows under twilight of dawn, the fog nestled between dune and treeline, the scattered remains of the border desecrated by foreign footsteps.

Not unlike the average: even he has intruded a pride or two to enjoy his fill of chaos, and invited chaos unto him all the same. Today would be no different.

Some great pleasure warms like tinder in his core to observe that blood has been spilled before him. Not so arrogant as to lament that he is not first - his eyes shine over the brawling form of Kozrain, the blunder of a stranger-behemoth, and fall at last to little Ottilie rushing the likes of a tabby-grey female. The latter stirs some discontent, but it is dismissed when his eyes fall upon @Alaric. There is a tension in those wandering, restless green eyes as he studies. And grin Gauthier does, those tender scars of his cheek ripple and pucker, a tooth gleamed from their broken line.

His gaze falls on @Nephthys without a word. There is no need for words - his expression says all that needs said. There is no great jeering call for humiliation, ruination, only the heavy set of his frigid eyes and a darkening of his expression that notes the boldness of her return. Some small curiosity falls through the cracks like the teeth ebbed at his lips: Did she wish he would fall? Did she wish he would collapse at the feet of the tawny woman at the heart of the Cove? To hear his jaw crack beneath the swinging might of her paw?

Gauthier is resilient to the prospect of failure. His morale does not waver, not for pride but because he knows the sting of it like he knows the sting of claws deep in his flesh and bears it with no terror. What stings now is that, despite his best wishes and anticipations, the call of bloodshed has not summoned Ludivine from her absence. Another sweep of his gaze and he does not see her tangled with a stranger as he'd have expected, teeth-deep and ripping as all of them deserved.

Clearing his throat, he chuckled slightly as he turned upon the rogues, the Illyrians, the Andals hungrily awaiting the unfolding chaos. "You are all trespassing," he called simply with the swell of humor and the flick of his tail. Gesturing to Kozrain battling one of the intruders, he grinned even wider. "She is not queen yet." And if fate favored him today, she never would be.

With that he descended the stony bowl of the cove's walls, their tiered boulder-face, to approach the challenger. Spreading the digits of his paws wide to pan across the softness of the dawn-warm sands, he rushed Cirilla with the barbaric hail of a berserker. There is no time spent in introductions, in courtesies, diplomacy. Caladan's marked borders had been teethed upon by the ranks of the bold and the foolish, and she had made herself no exception.

-----

Gauthier made toward her as if to run her through, but tried to draw headlong in a radius to her left first, dig his spread-feet into the pliant sands to redirect, and attempted to wrap his jaws around the right-side thickness of her throat before it met with the chest and shoulder. He had flattened his ears hard to his skull and the tangle of his mane and narrowed his eyes, unconvinced yet that she was not the type to spray his face with sand if she got the choice. It would be dishonorable, but applaudable.

Gauthier vs @Cirilla
CC Leadership
Round 1 / 5
Hits:

Rolling 9d20: 18 + 17 + 5 + 8 + 4 + 16 + 10 + 19 + 9

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 10 + 6 + 16 + 2

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 1 + 8 + 7 + 14 + 20

Aut viam inveniam aut faciam ╴
I shall either find a way or make one
Cirilla SigrúnShe waits. The deafening silence that falls in time between the call for Caladan leaving her throat and it echoing through Amaryllis was unnerving. Her bubbling nerves could be seen only through a single twitch of her full ear and the idle movement of her whiskers in the wind. The world around her - the howling wind, the thick and bitter sea air, the crashing of the waves behind her - became nothing more than white noise as she began to focus on what she had actually done.

Perhaps there was some disadvantage to challenging for a pride whose leader she did not know. Any of these individuals who arrived could be the one without Cirilla even knowing - but she was no coward. She would wait for the one who called himself King here. She knew from the scent markers around Caladan that it was a male who ruled this place, so she could rule out fifty percent of the crowd straight away.

In their dribs and drabs do they begin to arrive. It is @Fernweh who arrives first, a tabby woman she does not recognize. Rosé eyes are quick to look at the woman, but are soon to dismiss her when @Ambrose's figure appears from the shadows. She looks at him, almost in a state of disbelief. What was he doing here? And... what was that scent she could smell on him? Confusion clouds her mind as she deliberates whether to say something to the ivory man, but instead she simply remains silent. @Zelda comes up next to him and this stuns Cirilla even more as an anger seems to bubble inside her chest, the nerves under her skin prickling with the heat as she flexes her claws in and out of the sand. Jealousy, was what the Sigrún was feeling - and she did not like it.

She turns her crown away from the pair (reminding herself to speak with Ambrose afterward about his little... friend), and watches as more and more individuals arrive. @Morrigan is amongst them, a lion she vaguely recognizes but is not entirely sure where from. Cirilla watches the grey lioness slice her forearm and whisper an utterance that does not carry on the wind. She stares for a moment longer, curious to know what the High Sovereign had done, but the angst of battle tied the woman to the place in which she stood.

There was a flash of deep red that seemed to cling to the shadows that catches the woman's attention. @Amaroq? She couldn't be entirely sure that it was the mysterious yet alluring man she had met briefly at the cactus farm, but if he had chosen to listen to her call... well, she was flattered.

Bodies continue to flow into Caladan, the majority of them trespassing to see the carnage and chaos of a pride challenge unfold. For the majority, she does not know who they are, but she is quite content to be the centre of attention for once instead of skulking around in the shadows for the entirety of her life. It was time to bring the Sigrún name back into the flames, back into the rolling waves and whisperings on the wind, no matter what the consequence might be for her.

Rosé eyes continue to watch as bodies surround her, until the melanistic form of @Myrkvi appears. So now the Jarl shows his face. She thinks, her orbs looking at him a little while longer. Where had he been? Making a note to seek him out later, she turns her attention elsewhere as the crowd continues to grow. Just as her crown begins to turn, there seems to be an increased bitterness on the wind. A singular gust ushers through the Cove as Cirilla looks back at Myrkvi, only to see @Saga appear of all lions. The tan lioness finds herself adjusting her weight on her paws as she watches the Guardian settle, an ear twitch the only tell-tale sign that she was perhaps nervous now that her great Aunt had arrived to watch.

Cirilla is taken aback by her arrival, and so fails to notice the figure of @Uma turn up to sit near her brother. She, too, smelt of the Oasis (which Cirilla would eventually discover), but the tan woman does not see her - at least, not yet. The woman finds herself staring. Forcing herself back to reality, the Sigrún reminds herself where she is, and what she was doing. Looking away from Saga and back to the crowd, she spots none other than @Nazonal, who seemed... nervous. A small smirk forms at the corner of her mouth as she remembers the day she maimed the other lion, and a small chuckle forms in her throat for a brief moment.

Still, the woman remains silent and waits patiently. Admittedly, she is growing agitated with the tension and suspense that seems to dissolve around her. Where was the man that called himself King? In the back of her mind, she wondered if he were a coward, and would not come - but she did not want this. She wanted to fight, to rip flesh away from bone in a bid to have a crown. That's what Saga would have wanted, so that is what she wanted. But there is a movement that catches her attention as she looks to where Ambrose was once sat quietly, only to discover that he was being molested by another - someone she could only assume was a Caladan lion. Anger ripples under her fur and the desire to help seems to manifest in her chest, but the woman relents and digs her claws into the sand to keep her from bolting off to his assistance. Besides, Ambrose wanted to prove himself to her. This was the perfect opportunity!

Two more fights break out around her, and the chaos is exciting. She was responsible for all of this, and wasn't it just invigorating? This was exactly what the woman was all about, what she lived for. She was comfortable in chaos, and thrived in it. Didn't everyone else?

Rosé eyes continue to study the crowd, her adrenaline eager to delve into the flesh of another. The white form of @Luther ♔ - unmistakeable - catches her attention, and she looks the Ecrosia Heir directly in the eyes. She simply grins, looking at the scars that decorate his ribs ever so nicely. The grin is callous, sickening, but she is sure to catch his attention. It was obvious from the wrinkles on his pretty little face that he wanted another go at her, and for once she might even be obliged to let him. He was pretty enough.

Looking away from Luther after unapologetically winding him up, Cirilla rolled forward her shoulders. Fights seemed to echo around her, and the woman wanted to bring herself back to the present, to focus on the here and now and not on the sheer amount of lions that had turned up. They were all trespassing because of her, what more could she want? A battle - that is what she wanted.

And, just as Vellen had it, that is what she was going to get.

The deep rumble of you are all trespassing catches her attention, and Cirilla draws her attention to the man that seemed to proclaim this. It was evident from the deep, gruff tone and the anticipation that rolled through his muscles that this was the King she was to fight today. She watches him carefully, studying his much larger form as he begins his battle to keep his crown.

Cirilla observes as he runs forward, eager to close the gap between them. He comes to her own left, but then seems to redirect her attention to her right with the persuasive nature of the sand beneath them. She growls to signal that her fight has begun, and with an eager attempt tries to turn her body enough so that the pair are facing each other head on. In her movement, the woman attempts to kick up some sand into Gauthier's face, attempting to disorientate the Caladan King. It did not matter if this was successful - sand was a mere tool for what she wanted to do.

His jaw does not meet with her throat as her pivot meant he missed his mark - instead, the eager teeth of the man simply clip the flesh that housed her right shoulder, ripping away minor tissue. Cirilla would attempt to lunge forward, attempting to barge her own left shoulder central to Gauthier's chest in a bid to wind and bruise. Simultaneously, the woman's jaw's would part, and she would attempt to clamp down onto his right shoulder in a bid to gain purchase there.

There was no denying that this was going to be a difficult fight. Gauthier was much larger than Cirilla and weighed a significant amount more than her, but she hoped that her skill as an assassin, combined with her smaller size and agile movements, would stand her in good stead.

And throughout it all, throughout the nerves and sheer determination, Cirilla could only think one thing: Ég er hættulegur núna.

Cirilla vs. @Gauthier
for Caladan Cove
Round one of five

Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 13 + 18 + 2 + 8 + 7 + 17 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 20 + 13 + 14 + 16

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 6 + 5 + 19 + 10 + 12

Naz leans into Asteria as her dark pelted friend arrived at her side. They're surprised to see the new mother here, they're also worried for her but immediately too felt relieved to be in her company. She is the one who did the first bit of work on my face. They shifted a paw to vaguely gesture at the scars across their muzzle and brow.

Nero. A white shape moved towards them, and Naz widely smiled his way. Just in time there dude. Briefly it's like the last year hasn't happened. They're in the middle of a mess ready to tussle and laugh about it later as they recanted the tales to one another. Naz reaches towards Nero to brush her nose across his mane quickly and briefly. Grateful he was here. Yes. But she's a small fish. Nazonal did not wish an ounce of luck or success @Cirilla's way. But not only was she not the greatest threat (hopefully the world would teach her that and knock her down a few pegs) she was also preoccupied with her attempted ascension into the messy realm of politics. Watch for Wolfbron, Tripfire or Apollinaire especially. The chaotic lumbering, rabid beasts of the Bluffs. The ones who could actually have the time, and reason, to go after them.

She wants the pride. They answered Beetle, leaning in to make it a bit easier hopefully to hear her as the other fights began to kick off around them. Their fur bristled, worried, but for the first time in awhile Naz was excited as the prospect of a battle. The presence of Asteria and Nero bolstering her, fueling at their fire and passion. You all ready to knock heads if we need to? Beetle, keep an eye out, be ready to run if we do. With the three of them around her, even as their worry grew for all of their safety, they still felt invincible. Bring it on.

@Asteria @Nero @Beetle

ART BY KIM, CODE BY LARS

5years, no bonus.

It was the question everyone seemed to be asking, who was the woman that challenged Gauthier? Others would pipe up, answering, ears would twist in those directions, picking up what he could. A familiar voice would catch his attention, turning to see @Artemisia approaching, her words would cause a roll of his shoulders. Maybe. She seems competent enough battle wise. He would answer, though he was only going by the hardened muscle under her hide, the scars that covered her shoulders, neck and face. She was not a stranger to pain and violence, that much was clear. I half thought you would join the Oasis. He would say, raising a brow in her direction for a moment before his wife would come up to his other side and he would smile, shifting so that his shoulder could brush against her. He could tell she was upset, he understood why. Patience, Love. He would murmur, he would give her the Cove when he was able to, for now, they would have to be patient and rule over the desert.

The shimmering form of @Saga would distract him for only a moment before he was forced to look elsewhere. He hadn’t seen the woman since the war and even that fleeting glance he could tell she was long dead. Destined to wander a half life, like Erna. @Valerian would speak up and his head would turn to him. Listening as he said he had met her before, but giving no other information. Then he would go to ask who the leader was of this pride. Gauthier…but he hasn’t shown up…maybe he won’t. A pity if he didn’t.

The warmonger would be jostled as @Ambrose was drawn into a fight. Rising and shifting protectively in front of @Nephthys….which would appear to be the wrong move as a fast moving blur would catch his attention. Her ex-husband. He wanted to spare his wife an apologetic glance, but there wasn’t time. Hind limbs would shift to splay slightly wider and off set, ready to brace for the weight it was about to hold. As his opponent’s weight shifted, Ronin would rise, sand flying from his paws as they came up off the ground. Bhaskar would reach wide, to dig claws into the side of his neck, toughened by all the others that had done the same. Blood would warm his neck as claws pricked his skin, it tangled in his mane, but it was a mere fly bite, it was nothing. Ronin’s own claws would reach up inwardly, attempting to tear into the tender flesh of his throat. Teeth would reach, just as Bhaskar reached, attempting to meet teeth with teeth in a counter to his reach for Ronin’s eye. A fierce snarl would erupt from the beast, a declaration. An enemy made.




Ronin vs. @Bhaskar
Major Maim (eye removal?)
Round 1 / 4
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 10 + 16 + 5 + 19 + 8 + 6 + 4 + 1

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 11 + 14 + 12 + 5 + 2

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 13 + 8 + 5 + 19 + 1

It isn’t the same without Leila. He’d gotten used to meeting her outside, arriving with her. Snarking about shit, and then finding a meal after. This challenge finds Dragos alone - following in the wake of his family and king, but a distance back that he won’t draw too much attention to them if he is noticed. They all sit themselves together, but by the time Dragos arrives, Ronin is already under attack by an unknown male. There’s other fights that break out, including the challenge for the pride. He scans the crowd, looking for one particularly familiar face before he can help himself. Even if he sees her, he shouldn’t care. But the tigress is sneaky, always has been, so if she’s already here he can’t see her.

No sign of her, or anyone that might be a threat - yet. He'll keep an eye out, and stay back from the others, lest he make them a target too.

He does see another familiar face, even if the memory of meeting them is blurry at best. Dragos slowly makes his way toward @Nazonal and those around her - a black lioness, an albino lion and a pretty, pale yearling - and catches most of what is said as he limps closer. Most of that day is a fog of pain, but he remembers the lion that had stood beside him, driven to defend or protect - or get revenge. Either way, he has to know why.

"Is that his name? Tripfire - Apollinaire?" He asks softly, coming to stand near the group. Ears flat, expression careful. His gaze stays on the dark brown creature. "I didn’t get a chance to thank you for what you did." Their interference at the Hollows might have saved his life; at the very least, it stopped the situation from getting worse.

"I’ll protect you, all of you, if they come."

@Asteria @Nero @Beetle

His claws met their mark, digging and tearing through flesh, but returned to the ground promptly to aid the colossal man's balance. During his descent, his teeth collided painfully with Ronin's own teeth, blocking Bhaskar's bite successfully. He sought to pull his head back, tucking his chin to protect his throat. As a result, Ronin's claws dug into his jawline instead of his throat, leaving long clawmarks that immediately bled red and throbbed painfully.

Ronin's snarl was met with an equally fierce one from the paladin. Ronin had become an enemy the moment he'd laid with Bhaskar's wife. Ex-wife.

His jaws splayed forward once more, teeth stubbornly trying to lock into the man's eye - no matter which one. He simply wanted to show him a world of pain. Meanwhile, his left paw lifted, claws trying to hook around Ronin's right armpit & pull.

Bhaskar vs. @Ronin
Major Maim (Eye)
Round 2 / 4
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 7 + 15 + 3 + 18 + 2 + 6 + 5 + 12

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 12 + 3 + 6 + 10 + 9

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 9 + 5 + 15 + 6 + 12