In his own hurry, and his writer’s forgetfulness, Roarke doesn’t realise there’s not much of a tail to grab. But he does get his fangs into skin, scarred and hardened, but his grip doesn’t last. Vermier spins around, and that’s rather expected, and as he does Roarke attempts to keep as close as possible to give little space between them, following up with his jaws attempting to bite the top of his head - the ear, if he can manage it - as he ducks low for Roarke’s elbow. The paw on that leg remains grounded as Vermier’s fangs sink in, and the other foreleg lifts and attempts to slam his claws down into the paw across from it.

Roarke vs @Vermier
For Major Maim
II of IV
Hits:

Rolling 10d20: 15 + 9 + 10 + 12 + 6 + 1 + 11 + 16 + 3 + 20

Dodges:

Rolling 2d20: 7 + 2

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 19 + 3 + 11 + 15 + 13

+1 hit for lead fighter perk

(Also feel free to dm me to discuss maims you're comfy with if you wish!)

With scrutiny on the fights breaking out around him, Wolfgang realises that this scene has turned to the scale of a war. Displeasure flashes across his dark features. He had attended the Illyria challenge only for that to descend into bloodshed too. He is frustrated, mostly because all he desired was a peaceful journey toward retirement and now that was consistently seeming impossible.

With ears twisted back in his annoyance, he softens somewhat as his husband arrives, grumbling his agreement to @Azriael’s words. “If I had realised it would be so short-lived…” he sighed. He fell into brooding silence, listening and watching as his mate calls out toward a battling pair - claiming them cowards. Wolfgang agreed, but now realising the potential heat Az had drawn to himself, he changes poise to something more defensive, muscular neck held low as he looms close to the mahogany lion. Azriael could start shit, sure, but Wolfgang would not see a hair on his head harmed.

Wolfgang is standing defensively of Azriael

Jaws manage a grip to her nape - and he didn't dare draw blood from her skin underneath. Bruising, perhaps, but he didn't want to see her stained red. He didn't want her bodice torn and wounded - like he would Cassandra's. Likewise, his paw managed to catch her limb and she buckled from the action. Satisfaction shoots through him, but then his eyes widen realizing her grip on his mane was still there- and so down he goes with her. He shifts, attempting to place himself ontop of her in the fall, grip on her nape vanishing in an instance.

She rolls onto her back and Aeistrios attempts to lower the front half of his weight down onto her, to try and pin her, hind legs lifting in a sudden jolt as he feels a nibble to his jewels. A low growl vibrates him, and he aims to nip at her hind as well - two could play that game.

Aeistrios vs Neytiri for @Neytiri
3/3

Hits:

Rolling 9d20: 6 + 19 + 11 + 5 + 7 + 14 + 12 + 18 + 10

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 9 + 18 + 14 + 19

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 7 + 3 + 19 + 12 + 11

art by riot/coding by riot

~ Hubert is attempting to remain hidden~

Hubert has found himself rather entertained by the latest bouts of chaos sweeping across the land. Mostly because the vast majority of it seemed to be centered on disrupting the lives of the Mire's enemies. What more could a Prince hope for?

Well...he could always hope that this place was torn down and replaced with something more convenient more convenient for his Vater's rule, but previous observations have taught him that perhaps he shouldn't hold his expectations quite so high. Too much room for disappointment that way.

Pine needles cling to pelt as he skulks his way through the dense foliage, the scent of enemy territory clinging to his slender frame more and more with each brush of his dark fur against rough bark and soft leaves. He lingers in the shadows of the thick brush, his dark green gaze peering past the frost-touched leaves to observe the unraveling mess before him, quickly noting that the current Queen of Vermeda locked in a vicious battle with a great red beast.

Surprisingly, (or perhaps not), there is not much of an Ecrosian presence here, other than @Gunnhildr's tawny form casually observing from the sidelines. He contemplates moving to approach her, but he ultimately decides to lurk for a little longer, to see all that may be observed while he still remains separate from the chaos. Oh, and there is chaos.

It's very interesting to see that the Lorien lions were so clearly unwelcome here. Perhaps it's worth relaying to Vater that Aeistrios might yet be a worthy ally for the Mire, especially if Cassandra retained her crown. It certainly seems that the Brook's numbers stand a fair chance of being diminished after today.

@Solanum's patchwork pelt is one he can easily pick out from the crowd, and his eyes narrow slightly as he intently regards the fascinating girl who's not exactly unguarded here. Yes, perhaps it was best that he remained hidden for now indeed.

ART + CODE By Dee

It was relentless and unceasing. The crowds rise, the heat of battle swells. And once again, all too soon, his homelands that he barely recognizes anymore is plunged into a chaos. Aquila arrives and wanders near to @Azriael and @Wolfgang. But too anxious to sit still, too angry to not pace back and forth. That bastard. The one who tried to take their home once already is here. And based on scent so are his goons…. Aquila’s silver eyes narrowed and his teeth came to bare behind recoiling fangs. Thick with spit twined between them, he displays a threat at each turn of his head. The Plains lions. The Obsidian lion. Anyone not of llyria or Vermeda he found himself glancing at for at least a second with venom and rancor in his features.
Blood boiled. Blood boiled and burned decency into ash. Maybe it was time for them all to get a taste of their own medicine. After all he’d tried to take the Brook, his pride now danced on the Brook soil and brought harm and blood…. maybe someone should go take his pride and members._{ART — CODE}

They weren't enemies, at least. Septima respected Cassandra and the other members of Vermeda although she couldn't speak to their current status of alliance with Andal Oasis. With Scorpius taking over, she wonders if her brother would try to solidify a relationship with the Brook or not. Either way, she was a bit too invested in the Brook to not show up and offer healing when necessary. Maybe she hadn't been a terribly active member way back, but she was there now and ready to lend her assistance wherever necessary. There were several fights taking place and Septima sighed as she settled down to watch each of them, her eyes darting from the main challenge to the others scattered about the brook. What chaos.

Double XP
+10 Attend a spar or challenge to assess the wounds

ART BY RIOT, CODE BY DEE

It was a rare occurrence if Giulia wasn't secretly present at a pride challenge. Truthfully the peach princess was intrigued by the events, the pure savagery that came from them. She herself wasn't interested in harming others, even if her family said otherwise. Vermeda Brook, she'd never been but she'd heard plenty of the lands that were supposed to hold home to the enemies of her lineage. Giulia was careful to conceal her scent, rolling in cloves and lavender, coating the very essence of herself in the herbs. Grabbing sage and parsley to smear across her legs and chest, rolling so they would spread across her back and shoulders as well. The mire scent was but a distant memory as she made her way from home and towards the challenge that awaited. She moved across the pride borders quietly, finding a small area of foliage to attempt to conceal herself as she curled up tight and small. Hopefully invisible. Green eyes watched the fight for the land, a man and woman though neither were anyone she recognized unfortunately.

*Giulia is attempting to hide!

[assasin exp//doubled]
+10 - Practice covering your scent
+20 - Successfully stay hidden for the duration of a thread
+20 - Sneak into a pride territory without getting caught

ART BY YUMPY

Aurelia

still the curled fists gripping the yes of the world, the cadence of tragedy, the yes of night shepherding shadows closer to home. Yes, the moon, the bright unending.

The battle exploded into a fervent wave of chaos, and Aurelia watched wide- and wild-eyed as she bore witness to the war waged between the Brook and the Plains. What all strife and adversity burst forth from such a heavy tension, she did not know; even as the form of the Jarl was enveloped in battle, Aurelia could not quite depict their natural enemies from the sea of strangers. She was so enamored on the battles before her that she did not notice the form of @Cirilla quickly appearing beside her, and as her mother's voice drifted above the caterwauling of lions gnashing teeth and crying out, Aurelia nearly jumped from her cover by the shock of it.

Shame and embarrassment quickly heated her cheeks, blue-gray eyes quickly finding sanctuary in the soft lavender of her mother's. Her ears turned downward, her head half-tilted and hung with shame. Fyrirgefðu, mamma, she whispered, her little claws digging into the soft ground below. For so long had she always followed the rules, for so long had she been safe, that she had nearly forgotten she was not invincible, she was not untouchable. But Cirilla had not seemed angry, and as the instruction came to learn from the fights, Aurelia's fear and anxiety softened.

She gave her a firm nod, before turning her gaze back toward the battles. The Queen had finally descended to assail her opponent, and Myrkvi hastily won his battle against the Plains interloper. Fights still unfolded across the small clearing, and it was difficult to pick out who was who among them. Thankfully, at least, Anya did not seem to be among them. But it worried her, too—it had been months since she'd last seen her royal friend. Af hverju eru þeir að berjast? she whispered.

---

¹ I'm sorry, mama.
² Why are they fighting?

code by cala, art by kite

Farrow's eyes widened as he felt @Renfri's teeth dig deeper into the skin, the violent shaking of her head quickly tearing away more flesh. The spot quickly grew numb from the pain, but it blossomed outward, and the torn skin began to bleed down his hind leg. The brutality of it caused Farrow to relinquish his previous bites to her flank, and instead, the paw closest to her reached upward, and attempted to rake his claws down on her flank where he had previously been chomping. His unsheathed talons would seek to seer into her flesh, hoping that if his bite wasn't enough to derail her, perhaps a good long scratch would.

Farrow vs Renfri
for Minor maim
iii of iv

Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 4 + 19 + 15 + 5 + 1 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 20 + 12 + 7 + 11

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 7 + 9 + 14 + 18 + 5 + 1

+1 Luck due to Khal being Lead Scout

Her teeth sink deeper, and as she shakes her head she can feel the flesh rip and tear and bleed. The warm, sticky liquid coating her face and splattering against her chest. It was the best kind of satisfaction, to feel the damage she caused with her own teeth and claws, even as his own talons rakes across her flesh, creating new slices in her skin that wept crimson. She released her hold then, attempting to swiftly pivot and shift her body, lifting her front limb to swipe in the direction of his face. She hoped to slash her claws across his cheek, if she had succeeded in moving quickly enough to be able to reach his face. Renfri vs. @Farrow Minor Maim Round 3 / 4 Hits: Rolling 3d20: 3 + 15 + 5 Dodges: Rolling 6d20: 11 + 10 + 1 + 17 + 9 + 2 Luck: Rolling 5d20: 18 + 15 + 17 + 12 + 20 Feel free to reach out to me on discord if anything is confusing.

Art by Navarre - Code by Vasilia