as always? my, my warrants a brow lift from Gauthier, looking back to Saoirse practically licking her lips at the chaos unfolding before them. He can't fault her - it made for a great sport and some small satiety for those lusting such sports, but many wanted to be done with it. They were jaded or naive, or perhaps both; Gauthier did not care how long their wars waged as long as he was well fed. Or was that what he told himself?

In the distance, Amara and the scarred white lioness went their rounds, though he is unaware of their own nature. Families or prides? He snorted a laugh, his gaze running to all the entangled parties, their own secular inclinations, aversions, amusements. Both, he replied, shrugging. Many of the prides are governed by the larger families.

Whom do you hate? This came with an even easier answer that didn't border oversharing. It wasn't a secret. Iseult had once said it best: they are all meat. I hate everyone equally. he responds evenly, looking back to @Saoirse as a devilish grin curled the mottled edges of his lips. You ask a lot of questions, low, balanced, the edges of his words are cut with a too-cool temperance. Be careful with that. Not a threat, not a personal warning. But an assurance._{BG — ART — CODE}

His talons land, digging through flesh and what seemed like the Andal King's eye. The adrenaline pumping through Apollinaire's body combined with the exhaustion made it difficult to make out where exactly his claws had managed to sink. His paw was twisted at an odd angle, and no matter how hard he strained to reach the eye and gauge it out, he physically couldn't. In a frenzy, his jaws let go of their target, his paw moved down to the ground, and if @Seneca didn't use this opportunity to move away, Apollinaire would continue his desperate attempts for an eyeball snack. The slender man's body screamed for him to stop, but once he had a taste of a droplet of blood he was more akin to a rabid shark than a noble.

coded by flea + art by rabbit

Frustratingly, no one chose him as their target. Perhaps because of his position in the Hollows and the Hodari's stance on being neutral where he could. So he instead was forced to focus on the fight @Hrefna was in, or as much as he could in the absolute madness around him. It would have been nice to take out his frustrations with life on an enemy, but at this point it was almost too difficult to discern who was friend or foe. Lysander wondered darkly, as he stood in the territory responsible for his father's death, just how different any of them really were. He also was very aware of the fact his two young sons faced this as their future. He'd lost sight of their mother now and struggled around the clearing to see what was happening in time to see the results of those fighting to the death, but he couldn't linger on that group for long and returned to trying to push his way to his lover across the dying battlefield._{BG — ART — CODE}

The sweet taste entered her mouth and Amara's growl was nearly a purr as she felt her body start to move about as the small lioness moved about under her. She couldn't really see what was going on but her balance started to falter. She needed to get her paws back to the ground. The headbutt to her chin rattled her as she slipped backwards and her paws found the ground again. The slap to her face found her in a moment of pure exhaustion and so it lands fully without her being able to grab it. Annoyance spreads over her features as she lunges straight for @Alizabeth's face, her teeth attempting to bite into her nose or cheek. Whatever she could to end this and head home. She needed Echo.



Amara vs. @Alizabeth
Minor Maim (TBD)
5/5
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 10 + 5 + 16 + 18 + 17

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 2 + 4 + 18 + 8

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 13 + 15 + 12 + 14 + 20 + 4

+1 luck due to lead scout in thread

Image by Machati and table code by Amanda

there's a fumble, a twist, and he faceplants into the mud. it goes up his nose, in his eyes, and mouth and he flounders like a fool for a good five seconds before finally managing to right himself. coughing up sludge and mud that tastes worse than it smells. he wheezes, blinking through the muck in his gaze, and peers up at @Ghyslaine with something between surprise and admiration. "well fuck me," he breathes with a little laugh. "you're something, woman." he mutters, shaking himself free of the mud as he wobbles to his feet. he's lost and he wants to go sulk about it - but @Zelda is still watching, even if a little disappointed, before she turns to leave. he opens his mouth, briefly considering calling after her, but realizes there's not much he can offer her. not right now, anyway. the gods know he'll try again. antares miroslav doesn't deal well with being told no. when he sees @Seneca fall under the Wolfbron man, he jerks, eyes widening briefly as he stumbles towards his king. A curse is on his lips but he lingers back, waiting; he knows better than to interrupt the fight. But he will, if he needs to. He won't let his brother be killed and just watch, no matter how pissed off it makes him.

code // art // do not use without permission

The right side of her face is scored by his unforgiving claws a second time, and soon a copious amount of blood is streaming from the wound. Face wounds always do have a tendency to bleed excessively, but he can't help but wonder if he did some permanent damage there. It's odd to think he was a ruffian not so long ago, and now here he is in the middle of a battlefield, his teeth and claws wreaking havoc upon this girl. He stops pursuing her when she wheels around to face him, not keen on receiving further punishment. Heels dig into the dirt, trying to slow his momentum.

But it's too late: as he's skidding through the mud, her claw already scythes the air, raking painfully across the bridge of his nose. The area is sensitive, and the thin layer of skin there doesn't exactly make the ordeal less painful. A roar rises from the caverns of his chest, clumsily trying to back up in the deep sludge to avoid any further assaults on his face. Blood now welling from his cheek, nose, ribs, and Maua knows where else, his flanks rise and fall in fast succession as he stands there hesitantly. He looks for those eyes again, and when he finds them, there's a distinct fear stealing through them.

That seems to bring him back to his senses. He feels his breath catching. The image of her as an interloping antagonist disintegrates each time he looks upon her. Her face isn't one of a villain at all. Befuddled, he turns away, only cocking an ear back at her before he attempts to limp into the thicket.

Ambrose vs. @Dahlia
For minor maim
Round 5/5

Hits:

Rolling 3d20: 5 + 9 + 19

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 7 + 10 + 6

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 6 + 5 + 10 + 1 + 2

code + art

The truth was Dahlia had never wanted any of this. She had come here bound by duty to her family, to mend any that needed helping. She hadn't expected Ambrose to attack her, had been completely blind-sided even though in the back of her mind she knew that it was a possibility she was naive in thinking it wouldn't happen. Her eye was swelled shut, the wounds on her face stinging and burning and at this point she could feel the wound on her neck gaping, blood coursing down her side. Her claws managed to make contact with his muzzle and for a shocking second he stopped, both of them breathing heavily and just staring at each other.

She used this moment to back-pedal away from him in the sludge and what happened next had her the most confused. He backed off. Now why on earth would he do that when he had initiated this fight? She waited a few longer moments paused in the muck and mud, eyes glued onto him. There was something about Ambrose that didn't sit right with her. Perhaps he was just thrown into this because of his faction, not because he wanted to fight. Maybe he was like her.

Dahlia v. @Ambrose
Minor Maim (TBD)
Round 5/5

Hits:

Rolling 2d20: 19 + 1

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 8 + 18 + 4 + 10

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 3 + 13 + 16 + 4 + 20

code by sentinel | art by irish

@Alizabeth VS. @Amara FOR MINOR MAIM
— RESULTS —

Alizabeth Hits: 2+2+3+2+6+3 Luck = 18
Alizabeth Dodges: 4+5+3+3+3 = 18

Amara Hits: 4+2+5+4+3+2 Luck = 20
Amara Dodges: 1+2+2+1+1 = 7

Alizabeth Successful Hits: 11
Amara Successful Hits: 2

@Alizabeth HAS WON THE CHALLENGE FOR MINOR MAIM!

---

WOUNDED ROLL

performed on discord by @irish ★

@Amara is automatically WOUNDED for losing!

Alizabeth Wounded Roll: 4

@Alizabeth is WOUNDED!

Profiles will be adjusted to reflect the wounded rolls, which, if received, reduce the character’s hits and dodges by -1 for an standardized amount of time. Any wounded rolls received from this fight are considered healed as of 7/1/22, and are logged in the wounded log. Once healed, post in Trade & Dice Updates to have your dice returned to normal.

In official wars and raids, fight result timers and posting restrictions are negated. Posting may continue, but the results of this fight cannot be acknowledged ICly until either both challengers have responded, or if 3 days have gone by. Whichever comes first!

@Ambrose VS. @Dahlia FOR MINOR MAIM
— RESULTS —

Ambrose Hits: 2+0+2+2+1+1 Luck = 8
Ambrose Dodges: 2+2+2+1+0 = 7

Dahlia Hits: 1+1+1+2+1+4 Luck = 10
Dahlia Dodges: 2+3+4+2+1 = 12

Ambrose Successful Hits: -4
Dahlia Successful Hits: 3

@Dahlia HAS WON THE CHALLENGE FOR MINOR MAIM!

---

WOUNDED ROLL

performed on discord by @irish ★

@Ambrose is automatically WOUNDED for losing!

Dahlia Wounded Roll: 5

@Dahlia is WOUNDED!

Profiles will be adjusted to reflect the wounded rolls, which, if received, reduce the character’s hits and dodges by -1 for an standardized amount of time. Any wounded rolls received from this fight are considered healed as of 7/1/22, and are logged in the wounded log. Once healed, post in Trade & Dice Updates to have your dice returned to normal.

In official wars and raids, fight result timers and posting restrictions are negated. Posting may continue, but the results of this fight cannot be acknowledged ICly until either both challengers have responded, or if 3 days have gone by. Whichever comes first!

+5 Observe a fight


Late to the party as usual, the Dieudonne in adoption only would approach the battlefield with caution. A urge to find his father had led him back out of Amaryllis, and though he was unsuccessful he still returned home. Though he wasn’t sure what that meant anymore, not when the family that loved you was gone and the ones left behind were indifferent to your presence.

Tail tip twitched while he walked the edge of the battlefield, observing the fights taking place. Noting his auntie @Amara among them, he felt no need to join for she seemed to be handling things well enough. Plus she was probably pissed off he disappeared again. Listening to his surroundings carefully so he would not be ambushed easily he would observe the interactions that were taking place. For once in his life, he was not trying to draw attention to himself!