@Aquila & @Eisa VS. @Renfri & @Aeistrios FOR Renfri (Theft)
— RESULTS —

Aquila Hits: 3+4+3+5 luck= 15
Aquila Dodges: 2+1+2= 5
Eisa Hits: 2+4+2+6 luck = 14
Eisa Dodges: 1+2+1 = 4

Renfri Hits: 1+0+1+8 luck = 10
Renfri Dodges: 3+3+3 = 9
Aeistrios Hits: 4+3+4+5 luck= 16
Aeistrios Dodges: 2+2+1= 5

Aquila & Eisa Successful Hits: 15
Renfri & Aeistrios Successful Hits: 17

@Aeistrios & @Renfri HAVE WON THE CHALLENGE FOR RENFRI (THEFT)!

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 (Alexander vs. Vermier)
+5 Observe a fight (Aeistrios vs. Seraphiel)
+5 Observe a fight (Aquila vs. Lorien)

Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he watched another enormous man hurl himself between the Brook lioness and the man who was going after her. Interesting. Angelo was more interested in keeping an eye on Alexander's fight, if he was being honest.

It didn't take long for more of the Savante to arrive, Csitri appearing at Valerian's side. Oh, I'm sure it will, he mused in response to her comment. 'Cause, you know, there was Ryker over there and the Bluffs lions would no doubt show up sometime soon too.

At least he didn't have long to dwell on those particular thoughts, as a familiar sharp-toothed male appeared at his side, greeting him with a welcome shoulder bump that he returned heartily. Yeah you'd think he'd get tired with all the ladies clamoring over him, but no such luck, Angelo replied with a grin. Oh, look at them go, he added as another fight broke out, between a Brook lion and Lorien lioness, over what he didn't know.

He admittedly didn't know the boisterous woman who asked if they were going to fight, and he rolled his shoulders in a shrug. Probably, he said, because he wasn't the one to be asking for permission for anything. At least the clay woman who approached might distract his apparent pride mate for a little bit.

He raised an eyebrow as Celestia lunged at a Wolfbron yearling who was promptly backed up by another, opening his mouth to suggest perhaps someone (read: him) should go and help her, but she disengaged from the fight just as quickly as she'd started it. Meanwhile, the fight between the two colossal lions ended in the red one getting his leg broken, and Angelo winced slightly in sympathy.

The voice who piped up beside him was one he hadn't heard for a while, but he still hadn't forgotten it. Look who it is! he said cheerfully. Nah, I'm the sit around and look pretty type, he replied, though he was admittedly slightly less pretty than the last time she'd seen him considering the whole issue with his jaw. He wasn't going to mention it though. That and providing backup for the ones in charge.

Yelling distracted him, more lions piling into the fight between the Brook and Lorien. There's your war, he commented to Walpurgis. It seemed to be a war of insults as much as tooth and claw, and Angelo couldn't help but laugh at the words bandied back and forth. Man, watching fights could be just as interesting as actually being in them! Sometimes, anyway.

@Riordan @Walpurgis @Fallon

It was hard not to notice the stent that rolled off this beast in waves. Even the taste of his blood felt rotten - and the logical side of him wondered briefly if there was something wrong with him. If there was an infection from a previous wound? Alexander is quickly ripped from this thought process as the teeth he had locked himself with quickly take advantage of this position.

Fangs clash with fangs, slicing open his gums and cutting open the flesh of his lower jawline. Blood spills and no doubt fills his opponents mouth. A snarl of pain rips from his nostrils as the beast attempts to withdraw from that locked position if possible.

The paw that had been previously attacking his shoulder would retreat from that area and raise, attempting to dissuade any possible further attacks to his jaws by trying to swing at Vermier's face, claws extended. Alexander feels the other's claws slice into him, the sensitive lobe of his ear blossoming with a sudden fount of blood, those talons rake down and latch into his mane as was intended, he felt the cut of talons pressing through the thick of his mane, threatening to do more damage.

He had felt the other's stance stagger before, so Alexander would attempt to continue pushing, using his weight to cause the male to stagger back. The Savante would purposely let his weight and balance shift forward a bit to do this, risking the male suddenly backing up and faceplanting. It was a risk he was willing to take, however.

Alexander vs. @Vermier
For Obsidian Hollow
0 1 2 3 4 5

Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 11 + 5 + 15 + 17 + 7 + 8 + 10 + 1

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 7 + 5 + 12 + 14 + 20

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 9 + 7 + 3 + 11 + 8

code + art

She finally wrenched free, retreating backwards several steps with a snarl. Blood spilled down her face, her toes aching and stiff. Her gaze swung to Aeistrios, to the yearling that had so heedlessly thrown herself into the fray. “We were just having fun with you before, but now, by trying to steal the High Sovereigns pregnant wife, you have made this very personal.” Another reiteration of her lie, to drive home the message she was trying to convey. Vermeda Brook were hypocrites. There would be no mercy in what was to come. She fixed her attention on the red girl then, her grin wild and vengeful. “What you’ve done today was no small, petty thing, but an act of war. Know that you share responsibility for whatever comes next.” She looked to Aeistrios then, knowing he would not walk back her words, and knowing that they would all need to begin making a more conscious effort in recruiting and solidifying their alliances. From what she’d seen in other challenges, the Plains were not the only ones that wanted to see the downfall of the Brook. Once they united in their common goal, that’s when the real fun would begin. She nodded to her husband, wordlessly signaling to him that it was time for them to leave. She made her exit without checking to see if he followed, knowing he would be quick to close the distance between them. -Exit- @Aquila @Aeistrios @Eisa

Art & Code by Vasilia

The wounds from @Eisa hit deep - his shoulder mangled, and it was hard to tell if it was mainly due to the yearling or the first Brook male he had fought here today. His wounds were piling up though, his energy fading- but he had to keep trying. To keep fighting. It was rare, it was odd, but Aeistrios knew he would not rest until Renfri was safe. Then, he sees from the side of his eye that Renfri slips from the grasp of @Aquila . Aeistrios releases whatever grip he might of had, bodice aiming to roughly shove him away all while trying to swing his hips at @Eisa to throw her from him. He would step back, feeling the sense of victory wrap around him again. A victory he hadn't thought possible - and one he savored every second of. His breaths were deep, panting with drops of blood and saliva leaving his maw. Inside, he feels wobbly; his mind hazy, but he holds strong, listening to the words @Renfri strikes their way. Everything she said was correct. Fun turned to them crossing boundaries - targeting his pregnant wife, innocent children who had nothing to do with this. Aeistrios hadn't done that to them. Eisa had brought their first fight upon herself by countering his claim, and Seraphiel's daughter? She had asked for the fight. Looked for it. All he did was defend himself and his power in each moment - but this? This was in defense of nothing. It was an act of war on their part - and Aeistrios was ready to deliver. His purple eyes land sharply on @Eisa , and he spits at the ground near her. "Little Kitty, how dangerous of you. A shame you have brought war to your family." He growls out lowly, adding on to Renfri's words. Then, he looks to the male - fangs flashing at him as he memorizes everything about him. "Sleep with one eye open, asshole." He spits, before he makes his way to follow Renfri out. Each step felt agonizing, and he lost count of his wounds or just how much blood was lost. What he did know, however, was that he won two fights here today. Two bloody battles against Brook members - and he was confident he would win the war as well. /exit

art by era

He was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, he had grown bored with the idle chit chat of the lions around him. Emerald eyes had previously been glued solely on the challenge between his brother and the white maned male. It gave him goosebumps to watch, the hair on the nape of his neck rising in.. jealousy? Oh how he wanted to be in their place, fighting tooth and nail for something that was his. It was intoxicating, flooding all logical senses of what repercussions could come from it. He was so distracted by the need, the want, that he didn’t notice the arrival of Amara or Louve, only that the fight called to him and he had to find something to satiate it.

So Jean-Claude resorts to what he’s always done, act now and think later. Frantic emerald eyes left the match to land on the one other familiar face among the crowd again. Slowly the beast would slink towards the Merle man, emerald eyes locked on his form as he circled to stand directly behind him. The last time they had fought JC had won, but he hadn’t been left unscathed. There was no particular reason he had singled Riordan out today, he wasn’t even aware of the feud between the Dieudonné and the Savante. How ironic that his brother would be in the exact same match up just a few feet away.

Riordan sat among a few onlookers, so he would look to find the best way to approach without running into anyone else. And unlike the other matches that had broken out among the crowd, Jean-Claude wasn’t after something as serious as a maim and he certainly couldn’t steal another man. He just wanted to fight, and he knew he’d get one. It was too late to back out now, his mind was already set . Lurching himself forwards, Jean-Claude would rush towards Riordan’s backside attempting to catch him off guard. Lowering his head, dark lips would peel back to reveal ivory teeth, he would attempt to latch his jaws around the other male’s mid spine. Right paw raising in an attempt to drag across the the Merle man’s right flank. let the battle begin.

@Riordan vs @Jean-Claude
For dominance pt. 2
Round: 1 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 20 + 19 + 8 + 6 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 1 + 8 + 18 + 6 + 14 + 2

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 9 + 11 + 4 + 18 + 12

“Speech”

html by castlegraphics; image by Sanctuare

Riordan's head was swirling with the violence surrounding him, the heady scent of blood as it spilt and splattered around him. @Lucanus left the formation first, then @Valerian. Both were preoccupied, breaking up the safety circle he'd been set on creating. The merle didn't particularly mind, but he was now at a bit of a loss with what to do with himself - who exactly to run at and attack. It was clear their enemies were of this land, and others. The scents of the other prides were mixed and swirled in his nose, making it difficult to decipher just who was from where.

Golden eyes would gauge his surroundings carefully, turning every so often to keep his back checked appropriately. There was no telling who would be coming and where from.

It was a moment when Riordan was glancing at his cousin's fight (@Alexander ♔) for claim of this territory that someone took their chance. Oddly enough, it wasn't a stranger. No, as the footsteps alerted him and he whipped his head around to glance at who'd latched themselves to his derriere, that he caught sight of Jean-Claude. Granted, they didn't know one another's names. But recognition flashed in his golden eyes all the same.

A snarl of surprise and pain would leave his maw, stubby tail tucking itself in as he * instinctively bucked against his attacker. * Back legs would kick out to try and dislodge the other - attempting to kick at him much like a horse. Meanwhile front paws would space themselves evenly to distribute the weight. Elbows would bend slightly while front claws gripped at the rocky ground. Ears flicked backward into his mane and teeth bared with the effort of trying to move the weight of another full-grown lion.

Riordan vs. (@Jean-Claude)
for Dominance
Round 1 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 7 + 4 + 10 + 20 + 3 + 8

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 13 + 5 + 18

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 20 + 6 + 8 + 14 + 19

Ever the good boy, the sounds of words "land law" stopped the maddened Lucanus short; a reproving yank on the invisible leash around his neck. He skidded to a stop inches short of @Keligan, teeth bared and eyes flaming fury; fire in the face of Keligan's cool, controlled ice. Though the two had met only once, the previous civility and even camaraderie he felt he'd shared with the other lion during their spar lent itself now to the feeling of betrayal aching in his chest. It was a silly, senseless emotion—the two truly hardly knew each other—and if he had been sane enough to notice the feeling, he might have felt a bit embarrassed by it.

He felt @Caltáriel there on the ground, felt her ever-irresistible gravity pulling him down, but he dared not take his eyes off her assaulter. He listened as the terms were laid out for him and somehow was able to understand them despite the deafening pounding in his ears. He wanted blood and he wanted it now, but Keligan offered him one better: the chance to restore Caltáriel's freedom to herself. Whether it was an act of goodwill toward his previous sparring mate or inspired by malicious interest, Lucanus couldn't know the dark man's motivations; he knew he should be grateful for the opportunity, but all he could muster up was a sneering nod of acceptance as he worked to tamp down his ire.

As Caltáriel staggered to her feet, Lucanus could deny himself her presence no longer and reflexively moved to lend her his strength. You're making it sound like I'm property, she protested, and thoughtful confusion flashed across the young Savante's darkened features. Mine and not mine, the tangled snarl of his mind spoke. It was too intricate a concept to understand presently, and so he waved it away, abandoning it for thoughts of battle, the anxiety of the high stakes he'd agreed to, and how he could ever consider himself worthy of her if he failed. It was all-consuming chatter in his mind as they relocated to the pit; it was all he could do to manage one step in front of the other, ever aware of the broken softness he carried against him on the road.

exit with calta and keligan

Valerian’s eyes only wavered from the battle at the sight of a familiar silver and merle shape settled beside him. Sage eyes flash toward @Angelo and Valerian rumbles a wordless greeting toward him. “No clue.” he mused as he followed the man’s gaze to another emerging conflict. None of Valerian’s business, not when the air was tense and Alexander fought.

@Csitri was the next to his side and Valerian greeted her similarly, a frown crossing his face at the mention of the last hollows challenge. Valerian had not been here for it, but it had sounded like things couldn’t have gone worse. “If it does, we won’t have started it.” he huffed… though whether he was disappointed or relieved for the idea of that was difficult to guess.

@Riordan had approached too, and Valerian eyes the herbs he had brought. He had to agree with the mottled man - Valerian knew his father was not so easily dissuaded.

Speaking of war, a stranger had approached with an urgent question. All Valerian has for @Walpurgis is a shrug - he is not the one who calls the shots, and with no older Savante present he doesn’t know what exactly the plan was yet. “If we must.” he utters.

@Laerke joined them not long after as more fights erupted and Valerian grew more tense, eyeing each. Lucanus was here too, but he seemed drawn into something else and Valerian looks on carefully - he would not meddle, but if his brother needed his assistance the Savante man would be up in an instant. He watched him depart with two strangers.

Riordan abandons the huddle to defend himself and Valerian eyes the spotted man’s attacker - a stranger, again. Hastlily moving clear of the fighting bodies, Valerian moves to stand protectively around Laerke. War was here, and he would not be taken off guard.

art © drifty

There is a certain jealousy that rises within his bones at the call for the hollows, a jealousy that nearly steers the beast away from the allure of violence and into the uncertainty of damned sulking. But beggars cannot be choosers, and it was only fair that in a world of lion eat lion whoever came first served as the matriarch to the lands claim. So he comes. Not for his self, but to see the spectacle of what the mountain would have. To see if she would claim another for her crown or shun this very particular being that sought to challenge her whims. If it was not he who was worthy enough for the crown, perhaps, another could be lucky enough to take it for times being. And so - he moves. Leath and quiet through the shadows, weaving within the walls of hollowed rock and boiling lava to hunker down into the crevices that proved just enough vision to see while providing cover from the world around.

- Vaghan is attempting to hide -

coded by flea + art by dusk