It was now that he decides to truly go for something beyond mangling her ankle. His attempt to disrupt her to the ground was foiled, but he still had this. Myrkvi attempts to apply the full force of his jaws to her captured ankle as his head seeks to jerk down and away from Reah in an attempt to gain the leverage to complete the injury. His movements and turned head protect the most vulnerable part of his throat from injury while deflecting her claws to the side of his neck within the depths of his mane where they leave minor lacerations. The angle provides him some protection against the oncoming teeth, leaving Reah to merely grasp at mane and his upper chest for moderate lacerations. Myrkvi vs @Reah Minor Maim (TBD) - Likely breaking her ankle at this point. Round 4 of 4 +1 Hit dice from Lead Fighter *1 Hit from Pride Tier 4 +1 Luck from Khal as Lead Scout Hits: Rolling 9d20: 20 + 2 + 8 + 17 + 19 + 10 + 18 + 5 + 7 Dodges: Rolling 2d20: 12 + 6 Luck: Rolling 6d20: 16 + 2 + 10 + 15 + 14 + 6

code // art

For a freight train city
Locked up 'til you're moonlit
Brushing my hair back,
feeling your lips
on my cold neck

You do it to me so well
Hypnotic taking over me
make me feel like someone else,
you got me talking in my sleep

Violence unfurls as easy as breath. He revels in the wicked sensation. Amaroq's attacks connect, slamming his head into her, shaking her of her grip. His claws, too, are now dipping in her blood. It's almost intimate, the emotions that surge through him. The lioness retaliates, by deepening the gouges on his shoulder and arm with her claws. Her snapping jaws brutally nicks the side of his muzzle, raking the whiskered flesh there. Crimson rivulets drips down his swarthy skin, heightening their sharp, painful sensation. It further spurs his hunger. His violence. It's wicked and silent, the way his wrath comes; all summer storms, and flames, thick enough to consume forests.

Moving swiftly, Amaroq would attempt to envelope Cassandra in a bear hug; raising both his forelimbs and lunging forward. He attempts to use his larger frame in the hopes of tackling her; attemping to sink his talons into her flesh whenever they may land. His jaws, too, snap for her; attempting to secure any part of her within his rigid, and salivating maw - but mainly, aiming for the side of her neck.

Amaroq vs. @Cassandra
for VB
2 of 5

Hits:

Rolling 9d20: 4 + 11 + 12 + 15 + 17 + 3 + 6 + 5 + 18

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 9 + 13 + 3 + 19

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 6 + 4 + 2 + 9 + 12

table by ryuu

open to fights (up to a major maim if prior agreement is made - please dm me to discuss) - please contact me first!

the call for the brook echoes throughout the land and markus, naturally, is intrigued. rising to his paws and departing the mire with a sense of purpose, the rike man makes his way easily through amaryllis neutral territory until he finds himself at the border of the brook. passing it without a care nor a concern for consequence, the man descends upon the carnage and chaos. fighting had already broken out and the smell of blood pleased him. he awaits, watching carefully and hoping that someone would be eager enough to pick him out for battle.

if only.

^{ART BY ALE-TIE, CODE BY CALA}

ooc: permission given by shark!

Was this irony? A cruel twist of fate? A joke bestowed upon her by Vellen in the face of her return? Voluspa could not even begin to contain her anger, her resentment, as the call for Vermeda Brook reached her ears, sending her mind into a haughty, zealous spiral. She had always thought herself cursed -- the child who was not supposed to live -- and this was just the icing on the cake of her own self-loathing. She had only just returned, just barely settled back amongst the sweet company of her kin, and now this was happening? Simply put, she would not stand for it.

Descending upon the scene like a banshee, her lips were already curled back, fangs prickling at the edges of dark, hungry lips as she emerged from the shadows of the grove. She saw @Khal first, dark gaze searching for his amongst the carnage and hoping for a moment of contact before continuing on, assessing the sea of faces with purposeful intent. Some were familiar - @Myrkvi already deep within the throws of his own battle - and others, though familiar, were met with a feeling of distain. The brutish pair from the passage had found their way here but were, regrettably, already preoccupied — which meant that Voluspa would need to find another target to bestow her anger upon.

And what better target than yet another bold and presumptuous man, this one who thought himself righteous enough to trespass on their home without care? No -- not today. The Brook belonged to them, and Voluspa intended for it to stay that way.

Without regard for who he was and instead focused solely on the fact that he did not belong, the Sigrun wasted no time in propelling herself in @Markus' direction, a snarl ripping itself from her chest as she went. Looking to approach from the man's right side, Voluspa would aim to close the distance between them in a few, long strides, jaws already unhinged and her eyes narrowed in cold, dangerous slits all-the-while. At the last moment, her left shoulder would aim to jut forwards, attempting to collide with the flesh of his right flank as she threw her weight into him. At the same time, the woman's right forelimb would look to rise from the earth, swiping outwards as she attempted to slash and hook unsheathed claws into the lower part of his right forelimb. Her back limbs bent to compensate the shifting of her weight as the fight began, ears folding across the contour of her crown as she surged into battle, intent on teaching but another lesson in defiance.

voluspa vs. @Markus
for minor maim
Round one of four
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 6 + 12 + 4 + 10 + 19 + 2 + 16 + 11

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 4 + 12 + 2 + 14

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 1 + 20 + 8 + 13 + 2 + 19

+1 hit for Pride Tier 4 (doubles level 1 bonus of master trade)
+1 luck for Lead Scout present (Khal)

Her mouth managed to close around his like a bear trap. And she almost giggled from amusement when he stumbled just a bit.
Aeistrios lashes out at her in return but the price of his claws are not nearly as harsh as they could have been. The two lions may have been the same height, but his body housed far more muscle. So he wasn't looking to hurt her? With their faces so close she could see the anger in his eyes; though she mistook it for frustration.

Satisfied that her little trick had worked, Neytiri released both of her holds and attempted to push back away from the lion. Mischief and merriment danced excitedly behind her eyes. Whether he released his own hold or not she would push forward in an attempt to ram her left shoulder into him - while simultaneously attempting to bite him again. This time under the chin.

Neytiri vs. @Aeistrios
Claim for Neytiri
Round 2 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 7 + 13 + 4 + 15 + 18 + 3 + 1

Dodges:

Rolling 2d20: 15 + 12

Luck:

Rolling 8d20: 20 + 3 + 1 + 12 + 15 + 6 + 18 + 2

+1 Hit Dice (Pride Tier 4/Fighting on VB land)
+1 Luck Dice Lead Scout Present (Khal)

Art by Sammiie, Code by Minxy

Her teeth merely nick the side of his muzzle, and she finds herself frustrated and angry that she wasn't able to get a grip on him again the way she'd desired to do. She wanted him to feel pain and hurt as much as possible. Her claws ripped further into his shoulder and down his leg, and she felt a rush of pleasure knowing that she was causing him pain and would likely leave marks on him permanently if she got lucky.

He would lunge forward, aiming to wrap her in a bear hug. Even though he was larger than her, she would not fall to the ground. His lunge forward would simply cause her to rear up on her hind legs and be pushed backwards with a feral growl. Hind claws left marks in the ground from where she was pushed backwards. But the Queen knew better. She knew that if she fell that would spell disaster and she wouldn't be able to get back up easily. Most of her opponents that she'd fought were larger than her, and ever since the day she fell to Alaric she had vowed to never fall again.

Since she hadn't fallen backwards, his claws sank into the tops of her shoulders and she would duck her head as his jaws came snapping for her neck, meaning that his jaws landed between her ear and her chin instead of their target of her neck. She in turn would aim to retaliate back, her own jaws snapping once again to try to grab at his muzzle with a better grip than what she'd gotten before. Claws would would aim to slash at the part of his chest that she would reach with them both on their hind legs, aiming to use their positioning and her smaller frame to reach her intended target.


Cassandra v. @Amaroq
For VB
Round 3/5
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 15 + 7 + 16 + 6 + 4 + 10 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 2 + 4 + 3 + 17

Luck:

Rolling 7d20: 8 + 19 + 18 + 14 + 7 + 15 + 4

+1 Hit Dice due to Pride Tier 4 & fighting on VB territory
+1 Luck Dice due to Lead Scout in thread (Khal)


if anything's confusing feel free to DM me ^^

text. "speech."

Art & Code by Zodiac

She had remained watchful on the correct side of the border for now, intent on seeing who would win the fight more than anything. Yet, her gaze wondered, and she wondered if Revna would show. She'd noticed the lioness didn't seem to hesitate to join into fights, and in the last she'd witnessed- another had tried to claim her. A fight, she found herself unable to join. The Mire was an ally, she couldn't fight against them, could she?

So when she saw Revna finally, a grin split her face, probably a stupid one, and then she watched as the lioness idiotically seemed to be rushing to join another fight.

Well, that wouldn't do.

Helah made to barrel over the scent line, aiming to weave and vee into the crowd, heading right towards the side of Revna. She would aim to slam into her, claws retracted- to protect her pretty Revna, and only aimed to grab ahold of her fur, wherever she could with her teeth- not to injure.

"No." She growled. "You're mine." A possessive claim of the lioness, who she still saw as the Sovereign of the Brook (because she don't know). "Stay out of that" A quiet snarl, meant only for the ears of her Revna. A show that Helah, would- try to protect her, even from herself- when able.

Helah vs ???
For Revna
Round 0/3

**Please wait before helping Revna and be sure Anyu wants it! <3 I'm unopposed if she does! c: We may have plans! haha

ART BY YUMPY, CODE BY LARS

There would never be anything normal about a pride challenge when it came knocking to one's home. The gnawing feeling in your stomach with unresolved uncertainty while also feeling absolutely confident and strong-willed to know that your leader (in this case, her mother) would handle this beast. It did not help the situation that Ana was hardly a rather nervous creature to begin with and doubted everything that came into her path, but she knew that having @Eisa come to sit with her after attempting to tell the stranger to just leave made her a little calmer. Though, she did worry that her sister's plea would be met with aggressive should he win or lose.

A stranger (@Neytiri) comes to her side and she pauses, reflective, for a few seconds. Gauging who this was and she had to sniff to recognize that this was a Vermedan, not an outsider. That she was alright to answer even if it wasn't a good one. Before she had a chance, though, a family member was quick to step in and answer. I -- I don't know. She struggles to answer her own reply, she was still too young and too inexperienced to know much of anybody outside of her own family or the Brook. She had been making checks to the passage on good confidence days but even then, she hadn't seen either of them there.

Analia recalled the lack of pride scent that the red-coated beast was wearing and still, it held -- it did not smell like anything else. At first she had thought maybe she was just not connected the dots to a pride before but it dawned on her that maybe he didn't have a pride at all. Making the connection that no one knew him and that was because he could very well be a nobody at all. He does not smell of any of the prides I know, she says with a bit more confidence laid into it.

Eventually father @Myrkvi comes in but he doesn't make a beeline for his children, instead he seems as though he is wildly searching. Her eyes flicker to her red-furred sister for a brief moment to see what she sees before looking back to lay her confusion to him on who or what he was trying to uncover. Only with her distraction is clear does she realize the woman who had asked the question and had not only moved to give the sisters space but was now being talked to by a dark-coated man. At first his words are gentle whispers, caressing and soothing that even she feels comfort in their embrace. Only it didn't sound so "good" anymore as he attempts to will her away.

The woman seems fine with it, encouraging the try and takes the fight to him with what looks like ease. Analia struggles to feel safety and leans heavily upon her sister for the briefest of moments. Her left eye blind to all that was going on and trying her best to gaze from all sides with casual head movements. With @Farrow coming in behind and quickly recognizing his Vermedan scent, it gives a small fraction of comfort to her growing fear and she eases even if it just for a fleeting second. I am well-protected, I am safe. She thinks to herself, calming her growing panic attack.

One working eye gazing to the fight that her mother had now engaged upon, bloodying each other up moment by moment. Claws rake slightly against her mother's neck and she begins to make the inner workings of how deep they were and what plants she could use. Her knowledge was minimal but she was trying to learn it all. Wanting to help in any way that she could with anything that anyone needed but Analia was quickly learning that it was hard to stay focused on multiple tasks at once rather than one or two.

+5 - observe and study a new scent (amaroq's rogue scent)
+5 - observe a challenge and learn the results (amaroq vs. cass for vb)
+5 - attend a challenge to assess the wounds (amaroq vs. cass for vb)

^{ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY CALA}

open for fights up to a minor maim - please dm me first before initiating

the call rings out for the brook and cirilla, to say the least, is surprised. she rises from her idle slumber to discover that @Aurelia had gone. her scent trail was fresh, so the mother knew that her daughter had not been gone for a particularly long time, but what did concern her was the direction in which she had gone. whilst the maiden had no qualms with her almost-yearling daughter departing the cove and exploring of her own free will, she was acutely aware of the carnage and chaos that quickly decided upon pride challenges.

cirilla moves with an eager sense of purpose and determination through the neutral territories that surrounded the brook and the rest of the island she called home. passing the brook's borders with ease, cirilla descends into the battle that could be heard across the land. she pauses for a moment to witness cassandra locked in battle, and (unsurprisingly) myrkvi the same with some other lion. fights broke out around her but cirilla was only interested in one thing -- aurelia.

she finds her, by chance, attempting to hide to remain out of sight. she had been wise, and had been taught well, and so the tan sigrún makes her way toward her daughter and quietly stands beside her. "þú þarft að vera öruggur og ekki láta krafa. þú ert djörf að koma hingað, reli." you need to stay safe and not get claimed. you are bold coming here, reli. she comments, looking down at her daughter (who seemed to be growing ever so rapidly now she was nearing one) with a neutral expression. cirilla was not telling her off - simply advising.

the woman then falls silent and turns her attention to the fights that surrounded them as the brook continued to descend into chaos. "passaðu þig á slagsmálum - lærðu hvað þú getur." watch out for fights - learn what you can. cirilla advises, watching out for an attack that was (knowing her) likely to land.art — code — bg

tentative, nervous steps bring her close to the action — the sounds of fighting long-since loud in the otherwise quiet brook. a pride challenge was not out of the norm for vermeda, but something about all the other fights makes her nervous. it reminds her of a different day, with mud instead of grass, with breaking bones and chaos. isn’t that what this was..? mismatched eyes shift around, looking between all those gathered, yearning for a familiar face. surely her wife would be here shortly, to watch their sovereign fight for her crown — but what of the others? reclining on her haunches, eira’s attention splits solidly between the fights, a nervous flutter echoing in the hollow of her chest.