What an interesting night. Drawn to danger despite or because of his dread, he seemed both more anxious and bolder as he approached the borders. Ears keened forward and he kept ducking his head from a desire to be tough and ready (surpassed, more often, by a curiosity to see). He stumbled across thr border in the form of a puddle of cold mud. Like iced tea. He looked down at it. Oh, hey. Mud. He cupped a massive paw and slopped it along his side, then shook himself off. His effort to disguise himself would have worked better if he'd smeared the other side too, or bothered to work the mud to make it look like a normal and completely unsuspicious marking, but he was eager to be onward.

And onward he was. A giant, stiff boulder, nostrils flaring. He thought he smelled someone from the Plains here. Maybe he could stick with them... or maybe it would be better to cause trouble. Pride this big had to have some massive kills stashed somewhere.

What a bleak place.

The place is mantled in a sepuchral fog, pressing close around him. Sunlight struggles to filter through the dense canopy above, and he idly wonders how the creatures of the mire manage to thrive here, clothed in perpetual shadow.

He cautiously slinks past the borders, following the trail of the other crows. It's not long before he recognizes them, talking amonst each other. @Amorette asks about the spoils, @Bhaskar asks if the pale one is their client, and @Fenna asks who is friend or foe. The answer comes from their pastel medic. He listens intently as he files into the group—the pale one, it seems, is the one they're here to protect. Even if she paints him in an unfavorable light, spoils are spoils, and platitudes matter little to Viggo.

A certain @Astarte attacks @Bordeaux, and Viggo's nose wrinkles back in a snarl. As Bhaskar is attacked by a golden lioness in quick succession, he tenses, stubby tail lashing behind him irritably. His compatriots are being attacked before their budding king can even give the signal, and his eyes fasten on @Myra, flashing with anger. "Oh, you're gonna regret that."

If the swamp dwellers want a fight, Viggo will give them one. His eyes wander to @Hubert, a black prince jeering the white ursurper—not that he knows his status. All he knows is that he stinks thickly of the mire, and he's just as good a target as any. "Hey, you!" His voice is thick with anger as he barrels towards the prince, trying to drive his shoulder into his chest in a bid to shove him backwards.

The time for talk is over.

Viggo vs. @Hubert
For: Minor maim
Round: 1/4
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 4 + 6 + 14 + 9 + 3 + 1

Dodges:

Rolling 2d20: 10 + 1

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 11 + 14 + 3 + 5 + 18

code to pine

He spots @Bhaskar quickly enough, his stern, tremendous form striking bright contrast against the number of darker pelts that seem to predominate this gloomy place. One stands out even brighter than the Rook— the alleged challenger, and those he can only assume to be his— children? The place is crawling with opposition, spitting green venom, and even though he does not necessarily understand the words, he knows it's venom they spit. He has stood in their very shoes, after all, long ago, and his sentiments towards his own homeland's then-usurper had been much the same. He had never quite found his stride again after that, and to think the same fate may await many of those present here tugs at his conscience just a little. He spots @Aeistrios, and a slow, certain realization creeps over him. "Wait, are... we the bad guys?" Certainly, he'd never expected to find himself on this side of the fight. But that's what he had signed up for, hadn't he? Adventure, comradeship, new experiences.... and a chance to cast off the weight of his crown, to prove himself, not as a Frei, but as a man who can stand on his own merits. The presence of @Bordeaux and @Fenna is noted, joined lastly by @Amorette. The latter appears eager for the imminent spoils, but something tells him they won't be handing those over to them so easily. Scanning the crowd further, he spots his father and aunt Olive. Great. He can't think about that now. Now is the time to focus. His ear gives a twitch, indication he's received the little medic's description of this Luther guy loud and clear. Pale one with the exposed fangs, got it. He attempts to find a enemy target, not an easy proposition when pretty much everyone is a potential enemy target, and then: a scarlet lioness, barging into their ranks. He whirls around in bewilderment as Bhaskar and Fissure follow suit, each becoming entangled in their own brawls. That's his cue, he supposes, scanning the vicinity for any who share that distinct Mire smell, and it isn't long until he finds @Vulferam. "Dad's gonna be so disappointed," he mutters to himself, before resolving to plunge off toward the other male, pushing the notion that he is inadvertently fighting on the side of that purple asshole out of his mind. The melanistic boy is standing still, so hoping to use his momentum to his advantage, he seeks to crash into the other, endeavoring to bite down into the side of his thickly maned neck in an attempt to catch him by surprise and, hopefully, bowl him over. @Vulferam vs. Kian Minor maim Round 1 / 4 Hits: Rolling 6d20: 6 + 18 + 8 + 14 + 5 + 2 Dodges: Rolling 5d20: 1 + 4 + 17 + 14 + 11 Luck: Rolling 5d20: 19 + 1 + 17 + 16 + 4

code by shaz

The smaller lioness jerks her scruff from Astartes grasp causing the red lioness to snarl, her fiery eyes ablaze with anger, over the fighting she can hear Fissure, but it's too late, her king called war, and she was never one to ignore Alarics demands. She feels claws dig deep into her chest as the girl strikes out, and her attention snaps back onto the lioness. With powerful hind legs, she attempts to lunge forward to tackle the girl, claws attempting to grapple into the girls shoulders or any where that may provide a good hold.

She does not see her mate appear on the scene, not when her attention is solely focused on the whelp beneath her, a low growl exits from her throat as she attempts to bear down on the girl, wondering if she had faith in her plum king now.

@Astarte vs. @Bordeaux
Dominance
Round 2 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 12 + 13 + 14 + 2 + 19 + 10 + 18 + 5

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 8 + 16 + 1 + 19

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 15 + 18 + 4 + 13 + 10

ART COPYRIGHT XXX / CODE COPYRIGHT ANALESE

Chaos felt so very different when it was right in front of her eyes.

It was the roaring storm, the swirling vortex, the churning sea, all rolled into one. It was the sensation of being adrift in a turbulent waves, with no compass to guide her, and no shore in sight. It was a world where every moment was a surprise, every step was a leap into the unknown, and every decision was a gamble with fate.

In other words: familiar.

How easy it was to imagine that the final moments of her family were like this.

Were the traitors as brazen as these assailants? Had they had a master plan that went off without a hitch? Or was someone sloppy causing all hell to break loose? She would never know, but even then, she wished to believe her family would have spent their last moments fighting for their birthright. Hopefully, in a manner far more dignified than what she saw now.

The scene was almost too overwhelming to behold.

Had she been younger, she would have remained in her den, as she had the first time she witnessed something like this. But she was no longer the same young girl left abandoned and betrayed and terrified of a world so very different from her own. She was a fully realized medic, and, having given her allegiance to him the Mire, stood waiting to swoop in. The stench of blood made her face contort, having always found it distasteful, but nothing more.

She found herself to be oddly calm, in spite of it all, until her eyes landed upon him.

@Luther ♔.

The very Prints who had brought her here to begin with.

There was once a time when she told herself she would be uninvolved with the affairs of this land. An assertion she kept when she still held onto the foolish hope that she might be returned home someday soon. She'd been a stubborn girl then, a stupid girl, but no more.

Luther had a way of showing her that she was not as detached from politics as she thought. He revealed to her the barbaric practices of the Brook. He was charming and every bit as princely as she imagined anyone could be. He invited her to his home and when she came…he was gone. She'd not asked many questions then, resolved to make her own way without him. It would have been easy, of course, to inquire about where her oh-so-handsome snaggletoothed prince had gone. But perhaps she hadn't been ready then to know the truth. Really, she still did not.

But then, it was not so hard to piece together what had happened.

In place of a prince she dreamed of was another she did not know, did not care to know. Perhaps it was the bitter sense of abandonment churning in her belly again which made her so disinclined to the change. Had Luther really brought her here only to leave her? Moreover, why did she care? He had offered her the truth being withheld from her and sweet, chivalrous words. Nothing more. And yet, that did nothing to quell the warmth under her fur when she thought of him, nor the shock it was to see him now.

This too, was familiar.

A battle between brothers, much like the ones she had to learn of while sitting through those loathed history lessons of the Krasota Empire. The difference? She had a preferred winner. If not because it was his birthright, then because she hoped she might have a chance to speak with him again, to understand what she dare not ask until now.

But that was in his paws.

So instead, she stayed back, jaws full of herbs, as she awaited the fate of her prints.

May he rise as her Korol.

ART BY SCARF, CODE BY TR

ooc: ** Tripfire smells of the bluffs and dirt he just has to be officially rejoined is all <3 War, it seemed to swarm over Amaryllis like a toxic cloud of ash. Except, as far as he knew, they weren’t around any volcanos. He had heard about them when he travelled as a younger man. But had yet to see evidence of any such thing here. When @Amara called for them to attend he did not hesitate, and inwardly he was relieved that he and Pyracantha had not succeeded in bringing forth more cubs. It meant he could let loose a little easier. The red furred lion moved to bring up @Amara's back flank turning towards the clashing lions, he was her back guard. For someone to try and lay a paw on her in his presence would be complete idiocy. Though he hoped a few idiots were floating around, he could do with a snack. *”Blood will soak the earth over this?” he asked her their tongue, referring to Alarics sons duelling like their life depended on it. "talk"

Art and Code by Cloudy

She would hear Fissure yell at the woman to cease her attack, but it did not appear the scarlet brute was listening to him. Additional clashes would erupt around them then, leaving Bordeaux without any protection. They all needed to defend themselves, she would have to do likewise despite the voice in her head screaming at her to run.

Stay calm.. think about what you are doing. She had seen enough fights and healed enough wounds to know what she was meant to do, where she could inflict the most damage and what she needed to protect. The throat, the face, and the stomach.. if she could protect those she might get out of this without too much injury.

Astarte would jump at her again, avoidance impossible as she felt herself knocked down, though not to lie on her stomach. She would be under the lioness, heavy paws on her shoulders causing her pain. Bordeaux would tuck her head close to her neck, front-clawed paws trying to push against the red lion's face defensively. Her hind legs would seek a more vicious purpose, trying to rip and tear at Astarte's delicate stomach in hopes to get the beast off of her.


@Bordeaux vs. @Astarte
for DOMINANCE
Round 2 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 2d20: 9 + 1

Dodges:

Rolling 9d20: 18 + 4 + 1 + 20 + 16 + 13 + 8 + 7 + 3

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 16 + 11 + 13 + 7 + 5

I feel like I'm at a standstill

Waiting for you to tell me I'm okay

code by corvus

Burn The Whole Thing Down

while they got cold feet

OOC: Mars is circling the group to look for a target
With his coat of patches of ivory and red the young lion would move towards the sounds of struggling, he had been nearby when the call rang out. And at first he ignored it, the Mire may have been the bluffs allies but he saw no reason to spectate. That was until as he walked outside the borders of the Mire he smelled the faint scent of the Bluffs, oh were they going in? With a shrug he turned and headed into the Mire noting the Wolfbron teens being told to go home by Amara, and then he glanced to the two fighting lions. One was a son of Alaric, but the other he did not know. If he did he would have probably groaned audibly in annoyance. The Dieudonne moved carefully in a slow circle around the group, he was trying to see where @Louve ♔ was, to make sure their Matriarch didn’t need a helpful claw or two. Also keeping an eye for any stragglers that might not belong here, he was itching to get some of his frustrations out.
"talk"

code by corvus

Fissure ought to have come to the defense of Bordeaux sooner, but he had allowed himself to hesitate in attacking @Astarte. That she relentlessly continued to attack the tiny lioness, who clearly looked terrified of the very idea of fighting, was upsetting. He was disappointed in the red lioness, but he would not have the opportunity to show her.

Another lion arrived, one who seemed to have a lot to say. "Your wife? You talk of her as if she is a piece of property." He retorted coldly in the brief moments of his speaking and attacking. Fissure would bear bright fangs of pearl exposed, dark eyes sharpened on his opponent.

Rainer and Fissure would collide, the slightly larger lion dragging claws through Fissure's mane, which protected him from claws cutting too deeply. Fangs meant for Fissure's muzzle would leave cuts on his left cheek as he jerked his head to the right. Fissure would retaliate by attempting to shove his left shoulder toward the lion's throat, putting as of his force in the single assault. Paws would all remain firmly grounded, not wishing to be unbalanced by the larger male.


Fissure vs. @Rainer
for Minor Maim
Round 1 / 4
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 20 + 3 + 5 + 4 + 8 + 19 + 13 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 11 + 12 + 1 + 5 + 18

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 5 + 2 + 6 + 8 + 13

And I'm feeling good

Birds flying high, You know how I feel, Sun in the sky, You know how I feel, Breeze driftin' on by, You know how I feel, It's a new dawn, It's a new day, It's a new life, For me

code by corvus

"And the Lord said unto Cain, Why art thou wroth? and why is thy countenance fallen?"
The wind was a traitor to give him away to his lech of a brother; it was not the only traitor among them. Bruno narrowed his glare as he watched the beast whip around as he flew through the air, new positioning tearing that murderous cape into more of a half-draping motion. Luther's furious cry only fueled on the raking of his claws through velvet ivory and the hateful gnash of his teeth, the bastard's twisting preventing any solid grip upon his life force. Still, Bruno was nothing if not persistent. He attempted to flex his claws harder even as his brother writhed and twisted, determined to do proper damage before his target was ripped from arched talons and he was forced to catch himself to stay standing.

Guttural breath caught in his throat as he felt Luther's teeth snake around and bore into his own left shoulder. Bruno hissed while visceral pain shot through his muscle, wounds welling with scarlet ink to mark them both of that day – of their transgressions.

"If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, Sin lieth at the door."
"It will take more than that, Bruder," Bruno spat the word onto the frozen bog beneath them. Adrenaline kicked up in all its fury, sealed by the irrevocable mark of battle imprinted upon his flesh. He was swift to tuck his head to his own left, attempting to clamp vengeful jaws over the bridge of Luther's ogreish nose as a counter to the fangs piercing his umber coat.

"And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him."

---

BRUNO vs. @Luther ♔
For Ecrosia Mire
Round 2 / 5
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 12 + 8 + 10 + 16 + 6 + 18 + 2

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 5 + 19 + 16 + 11

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 18 + 12 + 6 + 11 + 10 + 2

Lead Scout Perk: +1 luck to all pride-mates when fighting on their pride territory