Bystanders ignored, Ronin emersed himself into the fight completely. Though his rage was not actually directed at Adalwolf, he used that rage to fuel him further, causing his intent to be far more damaging than they would be in a simple dominance spar. This was serious only because of the anger that fueled both males in that moment- ironically both having to do with a woman….just not the same one. Ronin would not escape this match as scratch free as he had the last, already blood leaked from the fresh wounds on his face and shoulder, painting the lightly snow covered ground red and brown, mixing with the earth that the two beasts tore up during their fight. His adversary would stumble backward a single step from the shoulder check that Ronin gave and his lips would curl back in an amused snarl. The warrior was not at all worried as Adalwolf reached for his shoulder with wide open jaws. Ronin once more rolled with the punches, so to speak. He allowed teeth to sink into the muscle of his shoulder, a shooting pain flashing through his body, blood would flow free and hot from the wound but the warmonger was already moving, His forelimbs would once more leave the ground, just as his adversary swiped to knock his feet out from under him, causing his left paw to shift awkwardly and claws to rasp over his ankle though only enough to cause minor scratches. Jaws reached for the flesh just past the mane, by his adversaries shoulder blades, in an attempt to bite down and hang on while his right forelimb simultaneously stretched out in an attempt to hook into the spine of the beast and dig in deeply with flexed claws. Ronin had an endgame here, whether it would work or not, the next move would certainly be the deciding factor. Either way, his pride would not be wounded here. Ronin vs. @Adalwolf Minor Maim (tbd) Round 3/4 Hits: Rolling 6d20: 11 + 5 + 8 + 3 + 13 + 10 Dodges: Rolling 4d20: 13 + 5 + 9 + 18 Luck: Rolling 5d20: 1 + 19 + 4 + 12 + 14 ”Hi "

Ronin might have ignored the surrounding lions, but Adalwolf took in a few glimpses. Besides Slaine, he could also see a girl, light in coloration, calling out for the man. Some relation he would have to process after the fight but he was certain it would be interesting information nonetheless.

His teeth hit the meaty flesh of the other man's shoulder, sinking in. He attempted to bite down hard, giving his head a shake in an attempt to further tear the skin apart beneath his jaws. His claws snagged the flesh of the man's leg for a moment, just barely shifting the leg and scraping the surface before he lost his grip and was forced to put his paw back onto the ground with a frustrated growl.

As he focused on the power of his bite and making sure his paw made it back down to earth, his opponent reached with his own jaws. Adalwolf's shaking changed his position just slightly and the man's teeth sunk into the flesh right where his shoulder blade was. He wouldn't be able to go as deep there, and there were no muscles trying to connect to the neck in that spot, but he would still be able to get a decent grip on Adalwolf's flesh. At the same time, a heavy paw pressed against his spine, claws flexing into the flesh of his back and hooking the skin there.

Copying the movement, Adalwolf lifted his right leg and attempted to sling it over his opponent's back, claws extended, and tried to hook the flesh in a similar place. He came down with more swinging power, hoping to bruise as well as cut, and aimed to try to slash his claws from the spine downward before hopefully hooking in the man's side and digging deep.

Adalwolf vs. @Ronin
Minor Maim - facial or shoulder scarring?
Round 1 2 3 4
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 14 + 8 + 17 + 2 + 10 + 13

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 8 + 19 + 13

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 10 + 16 + 1 + 5 + 19

so the question i ask is

where the fuck is your god now?

image by rabbit, code by anyu

Teeth dug into his shoulder, but his adversary did not end there. Unfortunately, Ronin could do nothing about the beast shaking his head and tearing the flesh of his shoulder, causing more blood to flow down his leg. The warmonger would growl at the pain that caused muscles to twitch of their own accord. Ronin’s teeth would cut into the bastards shoulder, if he focused on the sensation, he could swear he felt bone, but that was perhaps him just being optimistic. Sure, he didn’t get as deep of a bite, but he didn’t need to. Adalwolf was not as concerned with his hold, but it would hopefully be his undoing. Ronin’s claws would find their hold successful, digging into the back of his adversary. A merciless grin would pull at his agape and bloodied jaws. His adversary would copy the movement, but without the finesse and intent that Ronin had. Where Ronin had sought to grab and hold, Adalwolf sought to grab and tear and he was successful, deep wounds would slice from his back to his ribs. A snarl would shutter through him, but then he would move. Ronin’s muscles (all of them) would work in tandem, hind limbs bunching up beneath him in an odd fashion, but then his intent would be made clear. Ronin would attempt to yank at the shoulder of his opponent, the tug would cause his hind end to slide underneath himself, but that was fine. In the same moment his weight would shift to finish this fight once and for all,. He would attempt to ‘throw’ for lack of better words, Adalwolf to the side. This battle would end with only one lion standing- Adalwolf or Ronin. The other would no doubt end up in the bloodied dirt. Ronin vs. @Adalwolf Minor Maim (tbd) Round 4/4 Hits: Rolling 6d20: 9 + 5 + 13 + 6 + 8 + 11 Dodges: Rolling 4d20: 8 + 2 + 12 + 10 Luck: Rolling 5d20: 20 + 6 + 17 + 4 + 1 ”Hi "

@Adalwolf VS. @ronin FOR minor maim
— RESULTS —

Adalwolf Hits: 4 + 2 + 3 + 3 + 10 luck = 22
Adawolf Dodges: 1 + 1 + 1 + 2 = 5

Ronin Hits: 5 + 5 + 2 + 2 + 6 luck = 20
Ronin Dodges: 3 + 2 + 2 + 1 = 8

Adalwolf Successful Hits: 14
Ronin Successful Hits: 15

RONIN HAS WON THE CHALLENGE FOR MINOR MAIM!

Please allow the challengers to respond to the fight results first. As per the site rules, if 3 days go by without a post from the challenger(s), they can be skipped. Whichever comes first! Any posts made before this will be removed, unless you are posting to another fight.

---

WOUNDED ROLL

performed on discord by @Squid

Adalwolf is automatically WOUNDED for losing!

Ronin Wounded Roll: 1d5 = 2

Ronin is NOT 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 [DATE, see guidebook for timelines], and are logged in the wounded log. Once healed, post in Trade & Dice Updates to have your dice returned to normal.

His claws tore through the skin from back to ribs, separating the flesh and letting the blood spill freely from the man's sides. Even if he were to lose this fight, at least he had managed to do some damage. Payback for what had been done to his own property, in some twisted way.

The man bunched himself up and pulled at his grip on Adalwolf's shoulder, yanking the Rike jarl a little bit forward before he tried to fling Adalwolf to the side. His jaws were still latched firmly into the man's shoulder and so when he was flung it was only a few inches, and he remained on his feet, having more slid along the earth than gone flying. They were both large men. Neither of them would be easy to fling in any real capacity.

As his paws slid along the ground he released the man's shoulder. He ended up only a short distance away, facing @Ronin head-on and still within reach of the man's claws. His face twisted in an angry snarl, not willing to go down quite so easily. He might have lost this fight, but he wasn't willing to give in and go down.

---

OOC: feel free to PP him a bit ;)

so the question i ask is

where the fuck is your god now?

image by rabbit, code by anyu

So neither would fall. It was a disappointment, oh how he wanted to pin the man down, to give him a true lesson in attacking a warmonger for no damn reason. As Ronin tugged, he would feel the give, the stagger forward. Paws slid forward, and his opponent would release his shoulder and ribs. This was his chance. Ronin would release his grip on the mans shoulder, head turning as his claws retracted a bit, releasing the spine as well. Adalwolf sought to put space between them, but he did not go far enough back. Bloodied paw swung, claws once more extended. He felt the connection as claws slashed into flesh, toes would curl, to dig in and pull at the mans face, causing deeper damage beneath the eye and into his cheek. It would perhaps make the man come a step closer, but perhaps not. Ronin would make sure that Adalwolf would remember him. It was unnecessary, it was clear who the victor was here- and it was not the bastard that stood opposite him. The Svend had never really believed in mercy, perhaps it was time to remind others of that. As paw came back to the ground, he would snarl, lips pulling back to reveal his longer canines, it would cause pain to his injured cheek- but he ignored it. He would be fine with a little recoup. The warmonger would turn then, lips falling back over his canines, only now becoming aware of the spectators that had gathered. Eyes were drawn to the brighter lions- @Nephthys, the color of blood would be seen first and his ears would come forward, curious. What would she think of the bloodied beast before her? Would it thrill her or frighten her? He doubted it would be the latter, she seemed like she could handle some blood and violence. He could be wrong though. Then his eyes would shift to Slaine, his gaze growing cold as his mismatched eyes fell on her. A rumble vibrated in his chest, lip would once again curl slightly, until his gaze shifted down and he saw @Caillen. His anger would dissolve within his gaze, but what was left was just a blank stare. He had no words to say to his daughter. Ronin would lift his skull slightly, waiting for one of them to speak, still unaware that his sister was hiding in the foliage nearby. An ear would fall back, listening for the sounds of the man he had beaten- should he decide he wanted more. Blood fell from his wounds, clotting within his mane and on the ground but he did not seem to care. Tongue would roll over his lips, smearing his and his opponents blood across the white streak on his face. Staining it reddish pink. Sides would heave, puffs of air gathering from his jaws as he panted, catching his breath from the fight. The cold stung his open wounds as his adrenaline subsided, reminding him that he would be in a world of hurt later on. @Sláine @Adalwolf ”Hi" +10 - win a fight +10 - wound another character +10 - maim another character

The men were vicious in their assault upon one another and though the queen watched with an attempt at a plain face, she could not help but twitch her lips down into a slight frown. Especially as @Caillen arrived and came up to her side. The slate woman moved her shoulder away from the tree and sought to bump it against her daughter's. Guilt festering for the pain that she had no doubt caused to her and Ronin's children in the aftermath of their break up.

Ronin emerged the victor, maiming the Mire's own. Selfishly, Sláine felt a surge of relief. Sapphire gaze slipped from Adalwolf to her former husband. Though it did not really surprise Sláine that Ronin would look to his red lover first, it was still a sharp arrow to her heart. For when his stare eventually found hers, the warmonger grew cold and the Scot's ears slipped forward to catch the rumble of a growl from him before he looked to Caillen.

Shocked. The Ecrosian queen could not ignore it. Had they been alone she would have looked upon the Svend male with love and despair at his anger, but he threatened her before her pridemates. That he might have a right to was not the point.

Eyes grew dull, falling into automatic duty, as she had when she had spoken in defense of Tiamat at the lagoon. "Dae nae growl at me @Ronin." She said, though it was firm, her tone was far from cold. "What is th' reason fer this fight?" She looked to @Adalwolf as well as her ex husband.

ART BY IRISH / CODING BY SENTINEL

Although she had never doubted Ronin's abilities to fight, it was certainly alluring to see him in the midst of it. Blood spilling from wounds, teeth flashing, the sound of claws tearing flesh and the accompanying snarls and growls. Nephthys leaned forward where she sat, her heart thudding from the adrenaline as it all came to a bloody end. Ronin, victorious, took his pound of flesh from the other man. Nephthys would have been a liar to say it didn't make her shudder with delight to see him come out victorious.

It was difficult to even recognize him beneath the gore and, more than that, the look in his eyes. It was filled with anger and anguish and the need for revenge – and frankly, Nephthys thought it was one of the most attractive things she had ever seen. It took quite a bit of restraint not to simply throw herself at him then and there, but she did offer him a thin smirk and approving nod as he turned to face her. She wasn't oblivious to Slaine's disapproval, either, and that only made Nephthys want to fluff up like a proud peacock. The growl Ronin sent towards his ex-wife was surprising, but she supposed it wasn't too crazy to think he might not want her around. His opponent had been a member of the Mire, however, and she knew Slaine would likely use that to anchor her presence. How interesting.

Nephthys nearly snorted as she told Ronin not to growl. Even still she tried to control what he did and didn't do like a wife might, and it surprised her how much it angered her to hear it. Ronin was a free man. He could growl at whoever he wanted. It certainly wasn't her place to inform the queen of that, however, and she simply kept her mouth shut. If she ever caught Ronin's eye, she'd wink with a promise of an evening spent releasing that pent up anger.

She was unwell from the start, but she wanted to be there to support her father, whom beside her mother was the lion she loved the most. He saved her life after all, he saved her from starvation and from herself. He took her when the rest held no faith on her, even some wanting to get rid of her, but he never did. He raised her, he was there for her...and she had an endless gratefulness with him, her love and care for her father had no match. Luckily he won, but how he and her mother treated themselves was starting to frighten her, she of course didnt know the tensions between them, the reason behind them not being happy to see each other as she was waiting to see. Her heart hurt, quite a lot to be frank. Her gaze move from Mom to dad, and then back. Taking in their expressions, and Slaine's words were harsh...cold.. She swallowed dry as she with some difficulty aimed to stand up. Tears threatening with leaving the cyan gaze. Eyes closed thigh, she didn't want to watch this anymore. And like that under the controls of her legs she ran, she ran as fast as she could. And doing so not towards the Mire. She did to anywhere but there. She needed time to think and calm down..she had gotten enough for a while. exit unless stopped

Stock by

Rust. Metallic. The aroma of battle is alluring. It has the capability to draw even those that lay beneath the ground, six feet deep. She, the selfish and blood hungry banshee, would prefer to slumber in the darkness – a mere spectator in between worlds – never truly showing herself, not even to those that she shared such deep rooted connection with. For what was flesh to her? What was blood, what was kin? Estranged. Forgotten. Cursed to wander the border between life & death, her soul merely an apparition bound to this foreign land.

Anger had consumed her at first. And fear. They were her constant companions in the darkness. After all, so many had died – why was she different? Why was she chained like a rabid hound to this world? She knew it was no dream. This was her reality now – to watch the world go by, but never truly take part in it. Oh, how many times she’d wished for Sunniva’s fate, for Eulalia’s fate. She’d failed at too many things during her life, but she’d never for once even thought that she’d fail to die properly.

With time she’d come to accept her fate. What else was there to do? There was no denying it – she’d become the very thing she’d laughed about. Not quite a god, no, but an apparition that lives in the afterlife. It was quite ironic.

She’d seen some others of her kind, speaking to mortals in the Grotto, some of which had a stronger presence than others. In her case, she could smell and hear and feel, her aura was stronger than your typical spectre. Most importantly, however, she had the ability to remain invisible.

And she took advantage of this more often than not.

Like today. The battle ensuing among the border of the Mire she haunts had awoken the wraith. She remained invisible to the slowly gathering group. @Ronin – an old ally & rival – was battling somebody with the thick scent of Ecrosia. It was odd to see that Ronin was no longer of the Mire. Had he forsaken Alaric? And what of Sláine? Speaking of the blue-pelted woman – she was quick to arrive along with some other red female. Irritation sprang into her mind – she was out of the loop. Normally, it would matter little, but she had slept for too long. Her world was devoid of any excitement. She wanted nothing but to jump in and feel claws kiss her flesh, to taste the blood of another on her tongue, the stretch of muscle beneath her taut skin. No more. She’d been robbed of the one thing that had kept her sane – battle.

Still unseen, still invisible to the eye, Erna watches until a wheat lioness slinks past her, quite literally walking through the invisible apparition. A ripple of forgotten warmth lights from the touch, and @Deirdre settles to hide down before Erna – unsuspecting of the dead woman behind her. As she had been alive, the Soul of Spite seeks the spotlight once again – and she will get it even if it wasn’t by tooth & claw.

So she slinks close to Deirdre, seeking to lower her lips near the unsuspecting girl’s ear, whispering: “Nosy little thing, aren’t you?” She couldn’t help but smirk at her mischief, her voice loud enough for everybody to hear even from where Deirdre was hiding behind the bushes. Brownish shape materializing at once to be visible to all, a subtle glow emanating from her edges, lilac eyes alight.

coded by flea + art by rabbit