It didn't feel like how it did when she knew she had bested Cassius. Isla knew she was slowing down, her moves more sluggish and her adrenaline waning. The full effect of her wounds were agonizing, especially the only to her side, and it was all the more reason on how she slipped. She wasn't sure exactly when the change in power happened, but as soon as she felt claws slash across her right eye, she knew this was it. An insurmountable pain erupted within her eye socket, causing for a pained snarl to echo out into the cacophony around them. She stumbles back, retreating, feeling the blood pouring from her wounds, running down her face and falling to the dirty sand below.

"You will regret this," her words are hissed through gritted teeth, jaws tightening as the pain continues to overcome her. Head whips to the side, her good eye watery but taking in the fights that still continued on. The Queen knew she couldn't leave even if she wanted to; she had to see this through. A roar is released from deep within her belly, one that calls to Scilla and allies, one that tells them all to continue their fight and that they seemed to be winning. She finds herself stumbling backwards now, her right eye already swollen, her attention now finding its way to her mother. "Mutter," Isla whispers, her body beginning to move on its own accord and toward @Morrigan. Her steps are shaky, her energy depleting, and it takes almost all of it for her to reach her mother, to find herself pushing into Morrigan's side in an attempt to keep her standing. "We need to win," she exhales her words on a rugged breath, her good eye wide and staring at her mother.

@Icefang ♔

KNEEL BEFORE ME

CODE / ART BY RABBIT

A snarl bubbled in her throat at his words, wanting nothing more than to rip his throat out as he spoke. He knew nothing of what had happened - knew nothing of this land. Didn't know his mother had been the one to start this, considering she had stolen what rightfully belonged to the natives of this land. Her teeth rip wounds in his face, and she was glad to know her teeth had met their mark. A little unbalanced, learning to fight short an eye now, Cassandra would still aim to do what she could to keep Rhea from the clutches of these heathens. Claws tear into his shoulders, and she feels the sting of his own claws in her shoulder, though she'd moved enough in a way that it didn't dig in as far as he wanted. Her head jerks to the side as she feels claws catch her hips and teeth bite into her spine, and his (Velasco's) teeth don't land on her neck the way he was hoping.

So they fight dirty huh? She might as well match them. She'd seen the younger girl join her in the fight, lunging towards the male she'd attacked. In another time, another place, she would've tried to keep the girl out of it. But not now. A third would join the party - the bundle of bodies now a complete mess. It was hard to tell what was who almost. She would continue her attack on her initial target (Velasco), teeth aiming to snap at where his cheek met his neck. Hopefully there was less mane there for her to be able to sink her teeth if she could do so. Simultaneously, she would aim to dig her claws in deeper to the spot that she had grabbed at already. She was so focused on what was going on, she didn't see the next one join in on the attack (Manon), but since no more claws had hit her - she was focused on her on own target.


Cassandra, @Étienne, & @Mélisande vs @Velasco, @Manon, & @Cassius ♔
For @Rhea
Round 2/43
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 3 + 5 + 13 + 18 + 15 + 12

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 20 + 18 + 17

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 15 + 1 + 13 + 7 + 17

**+1 hit dice due to pride Tier 4 status - "Tier 4: Bonus to members participating in fights in their pridelands (doubles the level 1 bonus of their master trade)."
**Fatigue Dice: 5 3 5, adding +1 hit dice due to Pride Tier 4 perk makes her fatigue dice 6, 3, 5
*Using Barbarian Perk lvl 2 - "able to take on another opponent after losing a fight (once per thread)"

OOC: If anything's confused do lemme know ^^

actions. "speech."

Art & Table code by Zodiac

"Keep running." Dio shouts after the retreating form of the Rainforest woman with a threatening curl of her lips and gnashing of her teeth. Exhaustion and adrenaline danced in her, a destructive pair of partners that crashed about threatening to send her falling to the ground amidst her own blood and compelling her to get into another fight, to spill more of the invaders blood onto the soil. The scent of vermeda stung in the air, on her nose.

The home Maua has taken from them... Does their god hunger for more? Do the Valour have more to repent for yet? Dio glances to the sky and lurches forwards then quite suddenly. Collapsed into a heap of blackness and quiet.

-exit via passing out

ART BY RABBIT , CODE BY LARS

Elaine watched them all, her eyes darting around, still unsure where she could step in or if she even wanted to. The desire to fight had moved through her so often in life that the lack of it was noticeable. Elaine's chest felt tight as she watched Icefang and Isla come together. This all seemed like it was pointless. Elaine had seen and been apart of so many wars and what came from it all? Nothing. Not long-term. Scars were the only reminder of such things as life moves on. At least she thought so until the actions of another caused her to feel things she would never understand. Icefang's claws dig into Isla's face and Elaine feels a flash of anger toward Icefang as she watches the blood spill from Isla's face. Her icy gaze remains locked on her, her voice finding its way over the sounds of war, her gaze remains on her as she moves toward her mother, toward the same lioness that Elaine knew would kill to save her own but Isla didn't seem to care about that.

Elaine wasn't aware that her paws had moved her through the chaos toward Isla until she was a few steps behind her. The scent of the lagoon, blood, and Isla seemed to melt through her as she stood in silence. Elaine knew better. @Isla ♔ had made it clear that she wanted nothing more to do with Elaine. She had the ability to attack her now, to work her over and take the edge of anger that still rolled through her out on the lioness that had caused it. Elaine knew that she should, she should attack, taking part in the war that was before her but she couldn't and she was starting to hate herself for it. Fuck this. She said, she didn't whisper but her voice was likely stolen by the chaos around them all. Elaine took a last look at Isla's back before she moved away, back to where she had been to watch her sister's fight.

Art by Lars

WE'RE BORN INTO THE GRAVE

Gauthier’s claws broke free from their hold as Reti swung his hips, their sharpness dragged through flesh with the fulfilling bouquet of metallic parfum. Whilst his paw returned to the ground, he felt the bunched meat held between his jaws pucker and twist – gore, luscious and savory, coating the eager lap of his tongue and rigid line of his cutting teeth. At once their connection broke in the aggravated swing aside, leaving the heat of his hunger for the cool air that swept between them only briefly, only longingly bereft of true satisfaction.

They, coated in bruises, blood, split and battered, allowed for little rumination before slaughter resumed its starved lope into want again. Before he can consider fatigue or the depth of pain, his opponent steps back; and it has already been too long since his fangs have been unmarried to unravelling flesh. As Reti strikes for the side of his neck he dives for the beast’s left foreleg – attempting to grab hold of the meaty limb as Reti’s fangs soar through tangled mane and clamp the skin of his nape, sharp and grating.

Cripple Vermeda, his mantra. But if only he had known the truth of their fight’s motive.

@Reti ♔ vs. Gauthier
Minor Maim (TBD)
Round 3 of 4
Hits:

Rolling 9d20: 9 + 3 + 16 + 5 + 15 + 18 + 10 + 4 + 8

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 18 + 6 + 16 + 3

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 14 + 10 + 12 + 17 + 9

Reti carried nothing for the war between the brook and Lagoon. It could have already ended or go on endlessly and he would care equally. He was the embodiment of wrath - all focus, his violent malicious intent fully reserved not for a conflict between prides but placed solely on the lion he was locked in this ruinous dance with.

He had once made a promise as a King. And he was keeping that promise with every bite and slash and with every drop of crimson spilled. An oath - literally kept with blood.

There would be no clear 'winning' the clash. Yet nor in his mind was it possible to 'lose' - the purpose was to damage. Slice and rend, ruin and crush, tear, puncture, strip, bruise and bleed the earthen hued male as much as possible.

To inflict damage itself was the point. Even if the brute opposite Reti would unlikely ever know the 'why', a due would be paid. Let onlookers believe this was one more battle among many birthed from a conflict between prides and various alliances. He didn't care.

That being said - full satisfaction could only be truely achieved if more damage was dolled out than had been inflicted upon -her- that all important night.

Even though Reti could tell within moments of engaging the other nightmare in battle that it would be impossible to give the male an equal or greater taste of *fear* than the terror Thella had likely felt back then, a greater tole of damage would serve an acceptable substitute - that could be perused as the ideal goal.

----
His opponent's head dips towards Reti's left foreleg.

Reti attempts to jerk his jaws sharply upwards and slightly to his right, attempting to mitigate some of the potential damage and aiming to tear and wrench the flesh of the male's nape as he did so. This brute was hardly the first to aim for forelegs in battle - unfortunately.

Long fangs catch the flesh at the front of his left foreleg, slicing past fur and began to sink into the thick muscle supporting his dark limb. The punctures would bleed immediately of course, and later add more scars to the dozens of various ages that already laced the warrior's body beneath sleek two toned fur.

Reti attempted to stamp his muscular right foreleg down upon the toes of his opponents right front paw with as much force as he could muster, attempting to slam the meaty center of his paw upon the other male's toes while his extended claws attempted to flex down and inwards attempting to lacerate the top of the paw.
-----------------
(Great fight! It was fun, thankyou!)
--------
Reti vs. @Gauthier
Minor Maim (TBD)
Round 4 / 4
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 19 + 2 + 13 + 14 + 12 + 1 + 6 + 3

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 19 + 9 + 6 + 20 + 17

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 5 + 9 + 7 + 6 + 14

code by corvus

TRIGGER WARNING!
This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of possible graphic descriptions of violence.
Morrigan knows she should kill him, should take far more than a meager appendage that had already been damaged, yet she took a few too many heartbeats to watch the blood trickle down his face, one she might have found brutishly handsome had it belonged to any other than the black soul raging behind his one remaining eye. Death was too easy for the likes of him. Let him suffer, let him think of her in his ever growing hatred. Worship in a darker form, she found herself thinking, even as the blood in his teeth sprayed toward as he spit his defiant venom. A worth nemesis indeed.

The sneer that had risen unbidden to her jaws falters as his threat is extended and she is reminded of another man who had once made similar threats. Her face grows cold, her own bloodied visage suddenly carved from stone, "I will drag you back to hell with me first," she promises. It had always been one thing to threaten Morrigan herself, yet it took very little to know what her greatest weakness was. It would always be her Queen. It took little and less imagination to understand his meaning and Morrigan parted from him knowing what it meant. What would have to happen again.

She hadn't lingered long enough to watch him slink off, instead decrying her challenge to anyone else whom might volunteer to take the wrath burning inside the undead Queen. That was before she'd taken a moment to truly see what was happening around her. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. Morrigan had traded one for two, and the Vermedan Queen had claimed both. @Cassandra and @Isla ♔, failing against @Icefang ♔'s experience she could only imagine. Wroth stirred ever brighter in her veins, yet it was followed by pride as her eldest daughter continued the fight, while Isla remained upright even after a second brutal brawl, seeking words of encouragement from her elder ruler and a moment of respite.

Morrigan could only spare it for a moment, a soft brush against the edge of Isla's new wound, noticing an giving a nod of acknowledgement to @Elaine choosing not to go against Isla before she pulled back. "We will," she snarled loud enough for any nearby to hear, and then louder still, "Remember the gods are on our side!" It was then that she found the one willing to meet her challenge and was forced to step away from her daughter to meet her fellow High Sovereign. The one whom had threatened death on Morrigan's kin. A worthy sacrifice to her altar indeed. Whatever temperance she'd found in the presence of her daughter had melted back into magma, fury hot and eager to shape the offered steel.

Morrigan took no careful precautions in her defenses beyond her stance, she never did. She fought brutal and bloody and welcomed every scar, every drop of blood as a trophy. The scar tissue was harder for the next pair of claws or teeth to tear through anyway, she had found. As the Caladan Queen came barreling toward her, Morrigan simply shifted slightly and ground herself into the sand, attempting to brace for the impact with a feral grin. She let the rage paint her vision red as Miaran's claws sank into her left ribcage. Her jaws open on impact, aiming for the tender flesh of Miaran's left cheek, attempting to sink deep and hold.

@Morrigan vs. @Miaran
For MAJOR MAIM
Round I / IV
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 16 + 11 + 20 + 14 + 7 + 15 + 2 + 1

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 16 + 11 + 14 + 15

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 5 + 1 + 13 + 14 + 8 + 16

Master Barbarian: Invoke a warrior’s fury to maintain strength following a victory
no fatigue dice once per thread

table coding by ferus

"Les dieux n'existent pas." Gods do not exist. Claws craved to shred and rip apart the delicate skin, gnashing at the very essence of flesh, the hauntingly welcomed specter of blood forever etched into her consciousness. The Viper Queen could feel the tempestuous energy building, a palpable tension in the air before the agonizing separation of her cheek tore away. With furious intent, her vengeful claws surged forward in a desperate "attempt" to sink deep into the soft flesh of her foe’s face.

Drawing strength from every ounce of fury, her powerful back legs launched her body forward, "hopefully" colliding with the other woman in a visceral display of rage. Blood streamed from her cheek, a crimson testament to her pain as she ruthlessly swung her head, brutally "attempting" at slamming it into the jaw of the Witch, channeling every ounce of her wrath into that fateful strike.


Miaran vs @Morrigan
Major Maim
Round 2/4
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 7 + 6 + 8 + 10 + 15 + 5

Dodges:

Rolling 7d20: 11 + 6 + 10 + 12 + 2 + 18 + 3

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 3 + 16 + 9 + 20 + 13

Using Master Sleuth perk:
Watchful eye (use the Sub-Master perk of another trade once per 3 OOC months)
Cleric Sub-Master perk: Protection is provided by members of the afterlife (+1 dodge for the next round of fight, once per thread)

coded by flea + background credit

Within the rush of battle came a sudden, unexpected reprieve. A blessed lessening of the pain within her neck. A feeling like sudden, cold evaporation; a flash freeze of pouring blood and rushing air, mingled with that instinctual uncertainty of just how bad the injury was. Naturally, Walpurgis-as-thoughts did not ponder this. Just experienced what seemed like joy cut new and clean. Walpurgis-as-body relished in this blind victory, her split eyes themselves half lidded within the shadow of proximity to the enemy's shoulder-neck junction. Blind and heavy with that very simple pleasure of a good, firm grip, and instinct of a suffocating killer telling her to just hold on and wait. Struggling prey. Blood in mouth. Good.

Heavy with momentum her blind right paw anticipated resistance with its aim to shove the female's face away. Time blurred. It had met victory - it should have, for was not her breath so thrillingly free? - but yet heavily still plundered, and fell within the entirely obvious cage of fangs. Thin, filthy, grease-and-skin covered finger bones shot pain up her arm as fangs sliced between toes and small bones in her palm crackled like the warning of melting ice. Yes, swinging one's paw against the sharp portions of one's enemy's muzzle had a very obvious outcome, one that often caught her by surprise. Pain hurt, especially in a split second after she'd just been enjoying the pleasure of breathing. Deep in her throat she growled, a snarling frustrated emotional thing, and sought to release any remaining jaw hold and instead thump the side of her head toward Helah's jawline.

@Helah vs @Walpurgis
Death
3/7

Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 18 + 7 + 10 + 17 + 1 + 11 + 19

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 18 + 12 + 4

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 6 + 18 + 9 + 8 + 11

Léonie Miroslav had never been and never would be a brawler. She lacked the size and strength to be truly dangerous. She was, however, a mother. And she would more than readily punish her opponent for having attacked her son.

Had her teeth not been occupied with the flesh they’d snapped onto, she might’ve hissed back at the lioness. Seeing as how they were busy though, Léonie simply growled and attempted to drive her teeth deeper. She could feel her claws passing through skin, but the sensation was overpowered by her own coat being slashed open. Her opponent kicked out and struck her in the chest, causing her breath to catch and the muscle to ache at the point of impact. Blood, drawn by the hook of her enemy’s claws, seeped into her grey fur, darkening it. It hurt, but she’d suffered much worse.

Through narrowed eyes, she saw as her opponent tried to twist back and snap at her. Léonie moved with her, trying to maintain the grab she’d previously secured while attempting to stay directly lined up behind her, countering in an effort to keep out of reach of her teeth. Her own jaws flexed as she aimed to bury her canines deep into the muscle, to secure her hold while her paw again sought to further damage her foe’s already clawed hock.

Léonie vs. @Cressida
Minor Maim - Partial removal of tail
1 2 3 4

Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 19 + 2 + 6 + 7 + 11 + 8 + 12

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 13 + 3 + 11 + 2 + 4 + 15

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 8 + 7 + 5 + 9 + 15

artwork • coding