+1 Luck from Lead Scout Perk, Parvati One by one he watched as his loved ones were picked off for battle. More fights than he had ever seen in one place before. Already the smell of blood surrounded him yet the violence did not yet touch him. His eyes widened as he watched @Talisa of all beings throw herself fiercely at the man from the Bluffs before they were lost in the sea of fighting bodies. There was very little Khal could do here except fight himself. Not something he was keen on but he figured he'd be attacked sooner rather than later anyway. That was when his silver streaked gaze met the firelike one of the woman who smelled of Scilla, Voluspa's former beloved home. But that was not why Khal recognized her. She'd come for the Brook before. That would be reason enough for him today. He would lunge through the gaps in the fights around him until he found her closer, a snarl on his lips as he shifted into his defenses, pinning ears back flat and narrowing eyes. His tail waved out behind him as he prepared to lunge. He would attempt to lunge directly at her with right paw lifted high, aiming to bring down unsheathed claws on his opponent's left ribcage while open jaws, lower tucked against throat, would attempt to lunge at the muscle where the neck met the shoulder on his opponent's left side, seeking to sink fangs deep there. His own left paw would seek the earth again for balance as his other limbs shifted behind him as he moved. @Khal vs. @Walpurgis for Minor Maim (TBD) i/v Hits: Rolling 5d20: 15 + 19 + 9 + 17 + 20 Dodges: Rolling 4d20: 10 + 17 + 20 + 14 Luck: Rolling 6d20: 17 + 1 + 16 + 20 + 12 + 5

She heard the echoes of a call to war. Echoes and echoes. When they were gone she heard the silence where they had been. The exact same silence before it had been broken. She waited but it didn't call again. It was not just a fancy of her imagination, however. Others were stirring in the tunnels. She saw their shadows, heard their voices, and she even roused herself enough to smell their footsteps. So it was war. And she was big enough now to see, big enough that mother couldn't stow her away and tell her to run. She needed to see what it was like so that when armies bled at her command she would not shiver.

She felt like she was floating. Unreal. The mud accumulating on her paws was unreal. So was the temperature of it. She seldom left home lately. The places in the mist didn't count. She wasn't... here. She wondered if anyone would notice. She wondered if anyone had looked for her, truly. Maybe she was a ghost. She might test that thought. She followed the steps and scent of one from the Hollows @Lysander. Eventually all the tracks mixed together. She merged off into the undergrowth (maybe she would disappear, no eyes on her?) and found only moving vines, and she felt eyes looming in the canopy, and a stillness of birds and shadow. She could stand the spookiness but no snakes. She lingered back toward the fighting and crossed the familiar scent trail again. Her pace not affected, walking in a elegant ballroom poise, she approached him. A male, valiantly colored, yet he cringed like a mouse. He was barely older than her. She drifted up alongside him. She cast her gaze down. Eyes empty, a ghost of a smirk. It actually warmed her face. Kept it from full uncanny valley automata. "There are snakes." Ought to scare him up from the dirt. "And lions... in the trees...."

+5 Study the landscape of an area
+10 Pass along information that might be important

Throw yourself into the unknown

With pace and a fury defiant

[[hidden
Sleuth Level 5: Can't be discovered if actively hidden in threads]]
At first, it was curious. Soon, it was irritating. Most recently it was bothersome enough that he managed to drag himself out of his den and make the unpleasant trek toward the mire. Something so large and loud happening so close usually tended to be of some importance to the general political...landscape...thing of the area an as little interest as he had in such things, he did recognize the importance of keeping tabs on his neighbors.

He fully intended to be only a spectator.

Body covered in mud by his travel, and scent fully hidden, the man would find a convenient clump of brush to tuck himself away where he could watch, undisturbed, as lions threw themselves at each other for reasons he couldn't quite figure out right away. At first it had sounded like a standard challenge for territory, but what he'd found was an all-out brawl between most of the island, it seemed.

code by corvus

The golden woman meanders into the chaos with a delighted expression; surrounded by strangers who tore and tugged at one another's sinew like beasts. Always such a lady, instead of rolling her sleeves she simply paces - back and forth - in an open area, lips quirked and eyes eager; her skin twitching with an untamable excitement for brutality.

She really did need to find herself a pride, for the chaos between empires was surely greater than anything her Crew could boast of. This... this bloodshed was delightful. Maybe there was treasure around here somewhere, too? Perhaps, she could sneak about and find out.

_{art by yumpy}

And then, from nowhere, a crazy lady. To her credit, Xerxes was starting to believe that all women were a little off their rocker. Outside of Echo, he couldn't name a single lioness that didn't give him murder vibes. This one in particular seemed less murderous and more.. he couldn't quite put his paw on it, but he liked it. Fire, maybe. "Are you volunteering to take her place, love?" he laughed only seconds before impact, curling his talons into the ground to brace.

Xerxes grunted as her claws met flesh, tearing into his shoulder while her goddamn head smashed into his. Jesus Christ, he took it back, she was the same kind of crazy as all the rest! Still, when he stopped seeing stars dance across his vision and prepared himself for the massive goose egg that was surely about to form, Xerxes retaliated. He attempted to use his bulk to shove her backwards, hoping she was just off balance enough to stagger. Just in case it wasn't enough to coax her, Xerxes snapped his teeth at her face, attempting to grab hold wherever he could.

Xerxes vs. @Talisa • @Nova
Minor maim
Round 1 / 5
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 11 + 7 + 20 + 9 + 1

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 6 + 18 + 12

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 9 + 5 + 7 + 10 + 4

ooc Please tag on discord if attention is requested of Echo.

While it may appear that the Bluff's presence in this fight was weak, Echo lingers in the edges of the swamps where the eyes don't linger. She blends in so easily, already a child of muck and dust she blends in effortlessly with the dank browns. Twigs and moss seem to sprout from her fur as she tucks low in the ferns, watching, waiting. The bloodshed was inevitable, and this was not the first war that Echo has been privy to. This time it was different though, this time she was prepared. Pack brimmed with herbs, knowing enough of Amara's intentions to stock well in advance in preparation for this moment.

She's not sure if she agrees; how could blood sow anything but more blood?

Then again, plenty of blood has been sown from them - especially at the claws of Sigurn. Why should it not be their turn? Surely Odin would grant them a great battle today. There are many familiar faces, but she focuses mostly on her pride mates. The politics of this battle elude her, she didn't care for the Sigurn enough to know their histories with others nor hate them enough to seek their enemies. Yet, any situation they are a part of seemed prone to explode. For now, she lies in wait as a careful shadow for the chance to assist where she is needed. As she waits, she prays. Silently with a mouth that barely moves she prays and prays that at the end of today, their family will stay whole.

Echo is hiding

Once Shiva's face was free, she could concentrate better on what she wanted to do here. Her cheek felt inflamed and she could taste blood in her mouth for the few seconds that it was closed. She could have a medic look at that later, for now, she'd focus on the Wolfbron female.

As she twisted, seeking to pull one of @Charax 's legs from underneath her, the female went for her side, easily sinking her teeth in the thin flesh there. Shiva snarled in pain, feeling teeth scrape uncomfortably against the bone of her ribs, feeling the female's bottom fangs puncture somewhere up underneath her ribs. It was all very uncomfortable, and Shiva sought to remove the female's access to that spot entirely, immediately.

Lifting her right back leg (still holding onto the female's shoulders for momentary leverage), she aimed a kick for the female's face, hoping to dislodge her bite enough to back away (and off) of her opponent. Once she felt the absence of the female's teeth, she'd climb off of her shoulders and put as much distance between them as she could for the moment, to recalculate, to figure out the next best weak point.

Evidently, there wasn't a lot of time to think about it, so Shiva threw herself back into the fray, aiming a full-powered and clawed swat for the female's face. Should Charax have tried to catch her paw or wrist in her jaws once more, Shiva would have another swat waiting with her other paw.

---

Shiva vs. @Charax
Minor Maim
Round 1 2 3 4 5
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 20 + 16 + 14 + 5 + 12 + 4 + 13

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 1 + 2 + 11 + 4 + 8

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 16 + 7 + 19 + 20 + 13

code | image

"3 yrs old, no bonus"

The results of war splashed onto the frozen ground, staining the greenish mud a rusty red color. The scent of blood was thick in the air, mixing with the sounds of battle. The rip of flesh, the thud of bodies, the snarls of anger and pain. It both filled his ears and also drowned out by the thudding of his own heart as he engaged with his adversary. The warmonger lived for the pain, the taste of blood, the suffering of his enemies, they had prepared for a promised war and it was about time that they were finally able to act. Although he wished it had been on a different battleground, away from his den and his young children.

The melanistic lion would back pedal, delaying the collision by only a breath, but it gave them both room to move without bumping into another fight. When their bodies did finally collide, it was not with a sickening thud, his momentum had slowed enough that it was not jarring to either of them. His jaws had reached out, only to be met with claws slashing at his cheek. His skull would yield its forward motion, keeping the claws from digging in too deep, instead they would leave minor cuts that would scar- but heal easily. Blood blossomed along his cheek, where claws had dragged to his jaw line before leaving his flesh. It ran hot down his neck, into his mane, but the burning sting only fueled him further. His own claws had met their target, digging in moderately into the younger lions underdeveloped mane, causing blood to heat his paws. Before he could return his left leg to the ground, the Prince would snag it in his jaws, grabbing hold of the flesh of his forelimb, between elbow and paw.

Ronin would snarl, Jaws once more aiming to grasp flesh, this time he would attempt to sink upper canines into the space between Myrkvi’s ear and eye, his lower canines intending to pierce the tender flesh behind his jaw, where mane, throat and jaw meet. His weight would shift, muscles rippling as they flexed to hold his weight on back legs, his body arched awkwardly as he attempted to place his free paw (claws unsheathed and flexed for extra grip) on the neck of his enemy, weight coming down behind it to press his opponent down, into the bloodied mud where he belonged.

Anger and lust for the blood of their enemy drove him, where in previous battles it had been clear that he had gone easy, had softened his blows or tried not to cause permanent damage. Today was different, the Warmonger fought with a ferocity that spoke of volatile intention, Ronin wanted more than blood…he wanted flesh. And he would have it. Today, the Sovereign fought without mercy, aiming to harm his adversary is much as he could – as severely as he could.



Ronin vs. @Myrkvi
minor maim/
Round 2 / 5
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 20 + 13 + 8 + 3 + 7 + 19

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 3 + 4 + 12 + 20

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 7 + 14 + 4 + 12 + 1

code by corvus / image by kim

@Alaric VS. @Cassandra FOR Ecrosia mire
— FIGHT TIMERS UNPAUSED —

This fight and its timers are unpaused, now that the Fight Club has concluded its review.

The fight can now continue, and it is Alaric's turn.

T a l i s a

Xerxes. Wasn't. Wrong.

Talisa was crazy; a different kind of crazy but a crazy nonetheless. In @Xerxes' attempt to push back at her, her right paw was released yet still in the air as he slammed into her. Forcing her body backwards and to stumble slightly, quick to try and find her balance again by attempting to put all four paws back on the ground while also mentally pushing her way through the bruising that would come from his shove. Though with his teeth coming to snap at her she began to try and move her head away, though Xerxes' teeth came upon her right cheek. Causing some minor puncture wounds with his upper canines that she hadn't been anticipating. Wounds were something she had never thought she would have. At least, not more severe than a couple of cuts but she was earning them!

Talisa tried with all her might to attempt to push him back with her own body weight. She wasn't nearly as strong as him though she did have some weight and height on him, but when it came to justice and the matters of family she was capable of a lot. Attempting to throw up on left front leg this time to aim it at Xerxes' right shoulder with claws extended. Hoping to get a grip on it this time, wanting to latch onto something and struggling to keep her momentum going. Breathing heavy and fighting through the clouded and foggy mind that she could not have prepared herself for. The adrenaline making her heart thump wildly in her ears as every noise and every body around her disappeared.

Talisa vs. Xerxes
for Minor Maim (tbd)
2 of 5
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 6 + 20 + 19 + 15 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 5 + 14 + 13 + 6 + 15 + 4

Luck:

Rolling 7d20: 19 + 3 + 17 + 8 + 2 + 13 + 11

@Poe