No sooner had he healed from the previous spar Ilarion would return to the Pit, hungry as ever to flex his muscles and get some adrenaline pumping. The light was dying, with evening well and truly settled in, but the bear could not find rest. Not tonight. So he left the warmth of his bed, and the warmth of his husband with it - always a tricky thing to do - to venture out into the cool air. The journey to the arena did not take long, and once again he would descend the rocky slopes with careful steps to stand in the dustbowl below. The dying light only made the arena more atmospheric, and while the altered visibility would make fighting more interesting... well, it only served as good practice. Foes often struck at night. The brute braced himself, primed and vigilant, ready for whoever might come to meet him. A gruff summons followed, as he hoped to entice a challenger to approach and sate his desire for a good brawl.

ILARION vs ???
SPAR
ROUND 0 OF 5

ART BY NORTHFOXX — CODE

Dusk had always been a time that the male favoured, the wash of deepening blues on the horizon and the softer sounds of crickets and beetles in the long grass, the evening birdsong that heralded the oncoming night. It always helped as well that the bright sun no longer heated his dark coat, although he did have it better than others who sported black fur. Dorset had never really been a fan of being over hot and appreciated the cooling temperatures that settled over him, a soothing blanket. It was better to wander in those moments, dusk and dawn, than to find himself hot and bothered. He paced now through the taller grasses of the plains not too far from his new home, wishing to firstly know the land better and orient himself within it.

When a rumbling call reached dark ears, the man paused; head lifted and nostrils testing the air as he picked up the earthy scent of another male. It sounded to him like an open invitation and curiosity was never something to be ignored by the tall male. His steps increased to a paced jog, head low and aligned with his spine as he headed in the direction of the call. It certainly would have been difficult to miss his destination however; the stench of blood and adrenaline practically saturated the rocky pit that he found himself on the outskirts of. Ears lifted as he came to a stop, blue eyes taking in the equally enormous man braced in the center of the rocky pit.

"Are you after a sparring partner?" Dorset called down, before stepping into the metaphorical ring and approaching, body language relaxed for the moment. He had never - and likely would never - be one to launch into battle without boundaries so he paused a good few feet from the hulking male. "I’m not looking for damage - first blood or pin to win?" He questioned, leaving it to the other to decide the parameters of this particular battle. Dorset had little desire to leave here in a poor state - it was for practice afterall.

"SPEECH"

code by scorpixia♡︎

Delightfully nosy, he trails slowly after his mate-- curious on what he's doing today. Hunting, maybe, or scouting. But as ilarions steps trail closer and closer to the fighting pit, kazimir has a good idea-- and it involves neither hunting or scouting. And then-- yep. ilarion calls out for a sparring partner, his voice splitting the sky, and kazimir smiles to himself as he arrives at the pit. This was going to be good.

He trails down the sloping sides of the pit, lingering towards the middle. Clearly having no intention of bothering his mate-- or the big, handsome man who came to answer the call. An appreciative eye lingers upon @Dorset as the stranger squares up, body language easy and lax. A smile turns his lips as he watches, eagerly curious with his metaphorical popcorn at the ready.

This was going to be good.

let no soul harbor guilt

table by sentinel / art

Ilarion was perceptive enough to know when @Kazimir was on his tail. He could not entertain any distractions, though - not even the most delightful ones. So, quietly, he is relieved when the augur does not sit in his line of sight; it's courteous, really. He'd more than likely be damning his beloved to immediate failure otherwise, especially in a fight where the stakes were not particularly high. His mate was not the only one to come, though - a burly, earthen-coloured male would approach, and Ilarion would straighten up a little to regard him. If he didn't know any better, he could mistake him for kin; the only clanmates the Paladin would not have been acquainted with would be far younger than Dorset, though. No unexpected family reunions today, then. A battle would be on the cards, it seemed - not an exciting battle, sadly, but good practise all the same.

"No blood?"

Ilarion would almost sound... disappointed. To let blood was the Rurik way - the warrior way. Even when there was no malice behind it. Nevermind. "First pin," the brute clarified, after a moment - it was a little less restrictive, as he could not guarantee that he wouldn't shed a little blood here or there by accident. "Don't worry," he assured Dorset with a small smirk -- "I will be gentle." Hah. Dropping into a defensive stance easily, he'd give the stranger an opportunity - just a moment or two - to back out, or to make the first move. When it became clear he wouldn't, Ilarion's smirk grew wider.

I'll lead the dance, then.

With swift, easy bounds, he'd seek to close the gap between himself and Dorset. Lifting and extending his front right leg, Ilarion would aim to hook his paw - claws sheathed, as he had agreed to play nicely - into the soft flesh of the other man's left armpit, and hope to wrench in back into himself with a sharp tug. Toying, just toying, with the idea of making him stumble, or knock him off balance. Simultaneously to this, the bear would bow his head and attempt to butt Dorset in the head - he'd take the jaw, or chin, or even the temple. Whatever he could come into contact with easiest.

He wasn't fussy.

ILARION vs DORSET
SPAR
ROUND 0 OF 3 (not 5 oops lol)

HITS:

Rolling 7d20: 8 + 7 + 12 + 19 + 17 + 13 + 15

DODGES:

Rolling 4d20: 6 + 3 + 20 + 5

LUCK:

Rolling 5d20: 1 + 8 + 7 + 4 + 5

ART BY NORTHFOXX — CODE

They were not to be left without witness to their brawl, it would appear. Although he was not quite so acutely aware of the man who had trailed behind the challenger and clearly had no idea of their relationship to one another, it would have been difficult not to notice yet another dark and hulking creature enter the ring. This one did not look to join, however - as bright blue eyes flickered over Kazimir’s reclined position and eager expression he could only conclude that the onlooker was here for the show. Each to their own and Dorset gave the audience member a friendly twitch of his whiskers, something one might construe as the precursor to a smile. Nevertheless, his attention was not on the red-eyed best for long and he turned back to his opponent as the almost disappointed words rumbled forward.

In setting down those boundaries, Dorset had wished only to convey that this was to be a friendly match. That he would not be seeking to do considerable damage just for the sake of training. Of course, he did not know the bear’s culture, the motivations behind wishing for a bloodier outcome. First pin. With the conditions accepted, Dorset felt he might have been at a slight disadvantage. Bigger than most the pair of them may be, but his own physique had always erred on the side of tall, lightly muscled, athletic. The male before him truly was a brute of considerable strength. He was never one to let defeat start in his own head first though. At Ilarion’s smirk and the promise to be gentle, Dorset let out a chuff of good natured laugh.

"Don’t be."

A gentleman he may be, but the primal act of another male launching themselves towards him was enough for his manners to be placed behind him. Ilarion struck to hook behind his left armpit, the grip of his toes thankfully claw free for now and yanked forward whilst simultaneously thrusting his head forward. Dorset went with him, using the momentum the tug created to shunt his own weight forward, hind limbs braced and bent, right leg shuffling forward to regain his balance and crowd the bear’s space. He caught the head butt along the side of his jaw, a jarring crack but nothing broken. As he allowed the large man to pull him forward, the left limb naturally struck forward, he aimed to dig in to the more mature male’s mane, down towards where his neck met his right shoulder. And in using that same momentum, intended to close his jaws around a mouthful of mane and skin behind Ilarion’s right ear - perhaps to use as leverage in pulling the man to the floor.

Dorset vs. Ilarion
Spar
Round 1 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 19 + 11 + 2 + 5 + 14 + 9 + 6

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 16 + 12 + 8 + 3

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 6 + 14 + 19 + 5 + 16

@Ilarion @Kazimir

"SPEECH"

code by scorpixia♡︎

Ilarion's strike would find purchase on its target, and while his grip was not bloodied - like it usually would be - there was still a level of satisfaction to a successful blow. The two were practically atop of each other at this point; no sense of personal space here. Battle had always been a rather intimate affair, though; in its own way. As quickly as his paw had lifted, it would return to the earth again, limbs bent and braced - unencumbered, as his opponent's attentions were elsewhere. He had asked for the bitten ear, in fairness; he'd take it as payback for Dorset's no doubt bruised and tender jaw. As the side of his neck and ear lobe began to throb, growing damp beneath the thick hair, Ilarion would stiffen and growl in reflex.

Now things were hotting up.

Hyped up on adrenaline, the Paladin would shake his head rigorously back and forth like a ragdoll - uncaring whether his ear or any other hunk of skin got damaged further in the process - and seek to use the momentum to smack @Dorset in the maw using the side of his crown. That's what happens when you get mouthy, big guy. At the same time, he would lift his front left paw - claws poking slightly further out of their pockets than the time before - and attempt to stomp down on Dorset's right forepaw.

ILARION vs DORSET
SPAR
ROUND 2 OF 3

HITS:

Rolling 7d20: 19 + 9 + 7 + 18 + 5 + 8 + 3

DODGES:

Rolling 4d20: 1 + 5 + 15 + 4

LUCK:

Rolling 5d20: 13 + 4 + 17 + 16 + 20

ART BY NORTHFOXX — CODE

It was a relief in some ways to release his inhibitions, to think only in the moment and not overthink the situation. To let the instinct take over, fight might with might instead of mentality, it was freeing. As his opponent was quick to release his armpit, Dorset allowed his own grip to loosen and his left leg to drop, quickly regaining the balance lost. While there was simple brute strength to strength, there was an aspect of known patterns, of moving with your opponent in an almost harmonic way. The reflexive growl and stiffen from his opponent was enough of an indicator to suggest that he’d at least found his mark.

A mouthful of ear and mane was his reward and Dorset was quick to try and clamp his jaws closed. He did not wish to relinquish his leverage, though Ilarion was quick to try and dislodge him. The rigorous shake of the green-eyed mans head battered him, though Dorset remained steadfast in attempting to keep his hold. Teeth jostled, bruised jaw flaring in discomfort. If he was successful in maintaining the grip, he fully intended to start dragging the large man towards the floor. It put him at a disadvantage however - the explosion of pain atop his recently replaced left paw, the pinprick of extended claws, caused a huff of breath from mouth and nose, an exhalation. Nonetheless, if he had managed to cling on to ear and mane, he firstly aimed to drag downwards and with his unoccupied right paw, attempted to blindly strike at Ilarion’s left leg, attempting to wrap around the back of the forelimb to further destabilise.

Dorset vs. Ilarion
Spar
Round 2 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 7 + 18 + 3 + 5 + 16 + 17 + 19

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 6 + 10 + 15 + 11

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 10 + 6 + 3 + 7 + 13

@Ilarion @Kazimir

"SPEECH"

code by scorpixia♡︎

Like @Dorset, Ilarion was more than happy to get lost in the sauce, so to speak. They moved together almost rhythmically, and the Rurik considered them rather evenly matched - his opponent's slightly more slender, athletic build only gave him speed where Ilarion lacked it. It would be a close thing, this battle; such a notion made it all the more thrilling. The feather-marked male remained steadfast in his grip, and in retaliation to his opponent using his weight to attempt to drag him down - like the world's heaviest earring - Ilarion would part his jaws, use the downward trajectory of his head to his advantage and seek to catch the swinging limb of his adversary between his jaws and hold it there with a fierce vice-grip. It was an attempt to catch the mitt in a counterattack, before it could land its mark. Even if he was successful, his mouth would no doubt be sore for it; nothing the brute couldn't handle, though. Fatigue began to wane on him, now - with a final burst of strength, he would aim to press forward with as much of a shoulder-driven tackle as he could muster. A final ditch attempt, to get at the brute at an odd angle with a jarred shoulder blade; he hoped to knock him back - or wind him - just enough to gain the edge and take advantage of potentially compromised balance.

ILARION vs DORSET
SPAR
ROUND 3 OF 3

HITS:

Rolling 7d20: 10 + 2 + 16 + 4 + 3 + 5 + 12

DODGES:

Rolling 4d20: 13 + 14 + 11 + 8

LUCK:

Rolling 5d20: 11 + 13 + 6 + 19 + 5

ART BY NORTHFOXX — CODE

It had been more of a battle of wills to maintain his grip, to go with the flow of the bear man's rapidly shaken head instead of resisting. It meant that Dorset's own mouth and muzzle received a bashing from Ilarion's head, but it also meant he didn't reflexively try to rip off the others ear in the process. But of course, the blind throw of his limb outward could not be monitored - he had no way of seeing or anticipating the teeth that caught his wrist as it had been flung forward. It was mercifully not a crushing blow, though he would certainly sport some bruises from bashing against this creature when they were done.

Having his wrist held in the other's mouth did not deter Dorset from his ultimate pin move. Attempting to use the leverage he had gained in the mouthful of mane and ear, the colossal creature let his own weight drop towards the floor, determined to drag the equally large male with him. He didn't need his paw back to try and wrestle the bear to the floor and he attempted to use both leverage and momentum to pull them both down - Dorset's ultimate goal was of course to pin the green-eyed man beneath him, to win this bout of sparring between the pair of them.

Dorset vs. Ilarion
Spar
Round 3 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 1 + 20 + 4 + 19 + 12 + 17 + 16

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 1 + 13 + 3 + 8

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 3 + 18 + 7 + 8 + 10

@Ilarion @Kazimir

"SPEECH"

code by scorpixia♡︎

@Ilarion VS. @Dorset FOR SPAR
— RESULTS —

Ilarion Hits: 5 + 2 + 2 + 4 luck = 13
Ilarion Dodges: 1 + 1 + 3 = 5

Dorset Hits: 3 + 4 + 5 + 3 luck = 15
Dorset Dodges: 2 + 2 + 1 = 5

Ilarion Successful Hits: 8
Dorset Successful Hits: 10

DORSET HAS WON THE CHALLENGE FOR SPAR!

The results of this fight cannot be acknowledged ICly until either both challengers have responded or 3 days have gone by — whichever comes first. Any posts breaking this rule will be removed.