Claws are torn away from his back as one attacker turns away and Velasco snarls his focus on the woman entangled with himself. Her snarling does nothing but fuel his fire. Her religious stupidity would be her undoing. She was weak, too weak to keep her crown and so she wailed about birthrights and fate, gods who cared nothing for mortal souls for if they did would the world not be a kinder place? No, down here there were only them. Mortal and bloodied lions that chaos and destruction, bathed and baptised in their darkness.

His head turns in an attempt to meet her attack. Cassandra doesn't quite reach where she'd wanted as teeth dig into his cheek closer to his chin then his jaw. Pain blooms over the right side of his face but it's not as bad as the burning to the other side. So he pushes forward attempting to sink the claws of his right front limb deeper into her left shoulder to strengthen his grip, much as she had done as pain blooms deeper from her hold. Simultaneously he lifts his left front limb off the ground. Behind him, his tail moves to try and balance him better and his hind claws dig into the sand to steady him further. He attempts to strike at her lower right side under her arm, aiming to dig his claws in as far back towards Cassandra's ribs as he can reach and drag them forward towards her armpit.

@Cassius ♔ Velasco @Manon vs. @Cassandra @Mélisande @Étienne
For Rhea
2/3
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 1 + 20 + 15 + 19 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 11 + 12 + 10

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 6 + 1 + 11 + 9 + 2

fatigue dice for this fight
hit 5, dodge 3, luck, 5

Velasco X'uekai

code by corvus, art by eightysichs (DA)

Her words rung still in Cathán's mind; he knew he was not meant to be here, but when the awakening "war cry" had been issued he could not help but to stalk behind - a mere specter. The cheetah had trailed the Brook party, doing his best to remain hidden as he stalked. This was not his place, this was not his war - it was a lion's - but the knight was ever so stubborn.

Although he previously opted to linger on the outskirts, Cathán could no longer hold his restraint. This was his family, his home on the line. What man would he be if he let them lose? Rage flooded throughout his body, and the man thrust himself from his veil of shadows; he would play cowardice no longer. Still, what could he do? If nothing else, perhaps he could play spy; the boy would slink cautiously across the sea of writhing bodies, and aim to abuse the frenzy to force his way into the heart of the Lagoon ( Because if you can't beat 'em, why not steal from 'em? )

Sly bastard.

( OOC: I am fully open - and encouraging - of anyone who wants to get into a fight with Cathán ! )

TRIGGER WARNING!
This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of possible graphic descriptions of violence.
Morrigan, bloodied and torn from her previous battle, existed on the fire pouring through her veins, of the release of war as its full bloody glory spread out around her. A crimson serenade, even as bodied collided and the fangs of her opponent were twisting toward her. Her own jaws failing to hold their grip but slavering over this new blood, fall open once more.

As Miaran's fangs begin to tear into her scarred face, Morrigan moves to twist her own jaws downward, attempting to lunge for her opponent's throat while she was thus occupied with Morrigan's face while her right claws would reach toward Miaran's ribcage, attempting to match their wounds.

She didn't know what the words meant, though she recognized the language the other monarch spoke, but the Undead Queen did not need to argue any further than her mere existence. The gods spoke through her, and she had accepted her place as a divine weapon.

@Morrigan vs. @Miaran
For MAJOR MAIM
Round II / IV
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 1 + 12 + 19 + 9 + 7 + 16 + 10 + 18

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 5 + 8 + 20 + 14

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 1 + 8 + 14 + 19 + 3 + 20

Master Barbarian: Invoke a warrior’s fury to maintain strength following a victory
no fatigue dice once per thread

table coding by ferus

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of [Heavy Violence and Blood]

Gods are mere illusions, mere echoes of our restless dreams, conjurations born of witchcraft and wild longing. In the depths of her soul, a tempest raged, a fierce desire to bleed, to rend the very flesh from another’s body fueling her every move. Even as the sharp claws dug deep into her own rib cage, Miaran unleashed a relentless storm of violence aimed at the Witch, refusing to relent. The vibrant crimson of her blood streamed down her cheek, a vivid testament against the tumultuous grey of her tempestuous pelt. In a furious dance of survival, she twisted her head fiercely, "aiming" to smash into Morrigan's jaw, diverting the threat away from her vulnerable throat, while her left front claws arched like deadly crescents, "seeking" to pierce the tender flesh beneath the Witch's chin.

There, upon the golden sands stained by the struggle of two ferocious beasts, the air thick with the scent of blood and fury—the Viper Queen, defiant and bleeding, faced the Undead Queen. She was the Executioner in a battle that transcended always, no matter her victory or defeat. In her heart, she felt no fear of the outcome; all that mattered was the intoxicating taste of copper and the gloriously primal thrill of making it spill. Miaran was and always would be the relentless Executioner—an arbiter of fate, a Judge standing unwavering on the precipice of justice, ready to invoke punishment upon those who dared to challenge the order of the natural world. She felt the splintering of fang against her skin, tearing through her flesh, yet despite the agony, she closed her eyelid to shield it from the vicious assault, grounding herself on her back legs, preparing to launch herself deeper into the chaos, unyielding and fierce.

Miaran vs @Morrigan
Major Maim
Round 3/4
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 8 + 2 + 18 + 11 + 10 + 20

*Dodges:

Rolling 8d20: 7 + 13 + 12 + 15 + 3 + 1 + 19 + 18

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 20 + 11 + 19 + 15 + 14

+1 Dodge due to perk in Round 2 here: https://www.amaryllis-lions.com/thread-2...#pid212038

coded by flea + background credit

His attack is successful, but retaliation against him is swift. The older woman he had initially attacked moved like a viper, claws slashing at his face and scratching the bridge of his nose. He snarled in pain, blood dripping down his face and maw from the attack.

Before he could properly attack back, the woman pushed herself away from the fight. Confusion washed over him, but there was no time to think properly. Another lioness was already on him, biting at his flank and clawing at the base of his tail.

The woman was tall, but Dio was taller and heavier. He roared in a fit of rage and attempted to slam his lower body down into the sand, hoping to smash Mirai into the ground and try to crush her against it. If she wanted to latch onto him, he would show no mercy.

@Dio & @Narsil vs. @Louve & @Mirai
For Dominance
Round 2 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 17 + 2 + 8 + 3 + 10

Dodges:

Rolling 1d20: 10

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 3 + 2 + 16 + 9 + 4

_{BG — CODE}

The assassin felt the tearing of his flesh the digging into his neck that continued. It was enough to drive him mad, to drive him insane. The pain was white hot and overwhelming with each motion that his adversary made. He couldn’t tell anymore how deep the wounds on his neck was, only that it hurt. A lot. It bled. A lot. His adversary had claws hooked into his skin, Lathan would flinch, body attempting to flinch and recoil slightly, in such a way to pull slightly away, causing the claws to not drag so deeply, minimal scarring beneath his fluffier coat instead of deep scars. His right, poison clawed paw would come up in an attempt to shove the poison dipped (and sand coated) claws into the corner of the mans mouth or face (whatever was within awkward reaching distance cause Era is unsure of the exact positioning of them). He wanted to hurt the man, to cause some lasting damage. Lathan was not confident that he was winning this fight, but he was not forfeiting either. His sides heaved with fatigued breaths as they fought. He was spent, he needed to train with Velasco more. "Speech." Lathan vs. @Arkyn For @Matti Round 3 / 3 Hits: Rolling 5d20: 3 + 13 + 12 + 14 + 11 Dodges: Rolling 2d20: 18 + 4 Luck: Rolling 5d20: 3 + 5 + 14 + 2 + 7

Art by Rabbit and code by Shazaki

Soon enough, the space at his side was comfortably filled by his favorite little ghoul. @Lazare's question earned a subtle smile of his own, "Non. Pas à moins que cela ne devienne nécessaire." No. Not unless it becomes necessary. Sébastien did not fight without due reason - such as to protect those under his care. The Wolfbron lions could generally protect themselves, which suited him just fine.

To throw himself into battle without a clear purpose or goal was to tempt fate that was already being tested by the scent of blood filling the air. Control was such a precious, delicate, thing, quite difficult to seize once it had been lost.

Indeed, as time wore on, the battles raging around them became increasingly vicious. He had gathered the important information - the lagoon would not fall to new leadership today - and so around the second (third?) eye pulled free, he would reach the decision that it was becoming far too dangerous to linger. And when he spoke again, his voice was distant, a detached emptiness in the tone that may have served as a clue to any internal struggle. "J’ai vu ce que j’avais besoin de voir, et mon contrôle s’amenuise à chaque seconde." 'I have seen what I needed to see, and my control thins by the second.' Here, a deep breath - his eyes pressing closed a second as this had been quite a mistake and only brought the scent of fresh blood deep into his lungs. "Je dois trouver un moyen d'atténuer le tranchant." 'I must find some way to dull the edge.' A special hunt of his own, to sate the growing hunger. But not here, not in the public eye. No, Sébastien would turn with one more thin smile to the girl and take his leave of the battle.

-exit-

code by daanyen || art by rabbit

The Ranger was successful in luring the obsidian-coated male away from his opponent. He knew there would be repercussions though, and there was. His enemy turned to bare his teeth, and rather than continue his own attack, Étienne attempted to retreat a step — trying to draw the male further away, even as he snapped at him, causing the Rainforest lion to growl as the skin across the bridge of his nose was ripped open.

It was already quite the mess, so when another joined the fray to throw herself at his side, he was hardly surprised by the addition. She was tall but not yet heavy, yet when she made contact with his bulk, he moved with the force behind her shove and allowed her to push him several steps to the side. His movement pulled his limb away from her before her paw could slice more than halfway down while his heavy mane offered some protection against her teeth. It pinched painfully and his side was bruised from her lunge, but it was not enough to deter him — especially when @Mélisande came to his aid.

Had he been a monster, Étienne might’ve turned to help her. He might’ve sought to rip apart the yearling from the front while Mélisande tore at her back. She was of no serious threat though — not yet — and so he ignored her and focused on the massive male again.

It was his turn to throw his weight forward, trying to close the distance between himself and his shadowy enemy again, teeth snapping at the upper pad of his muzzle — where the whiskers grew — in an attempt to remove it entirely from his face.

Étienne, @Mélisande & @Cassandra vs. @Cassius ♔, @Manon & @Velasco
1 2 3
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 13 + 10 + 8 + 4 + 2 + 19 + 18 + 3

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 3 + 11 + 17

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 10 + 17 + 13 + 9 + 8 + 3

 

artwork • coding

Each retaliation itself brought immediate reprisal. And thus the wheel of aggression spun. A battle pondered by philosophers and beggars for ages but never resolved. Walpurgis would add no more detail to this quandary. Live or die, for them it was - impersonal, beastlike, hungry and desperate. World peace would not salve nature's wrath. A bruise bludgeoned against her own temple in recoil. Her black lips twitched. Her inner world seemed to spin and the little that she could see, sand and long oil painting fur, wavered like a mirage. Her grounded paws trembled and spread fingers to clutch desperately at the shifting sands. Her right paw, screaming with pain even in the aftermath of release, instinctively fell to seek purchase in the sand as well. Sand also hurt, and she wheeze-snarled at the lightest impact of her broken paw against it.

A paw raked across the right side of her chest, crossing from the outside of her arm and mangling through tangled greasy fur that was her relatively thicker scruff. Her jaws being the only instrument of attack that was free (at least until she felt more stabilized), she instinctively jerked them down to try to snap at the enemy's foreleg. Fortunate or not, for the grabbing fangs of her opponent found nothing to grab on the expanse of her forehead but a grand, open, empty plain to mangle. Furrows of blood crossed the black fur. Their irrigation of blood seemed nearly invisible until it dripped down her eyelashes, pooling in her weeping tear ducts. She was no sainted martyr. She was just blind.

@Helah vs @Walpurgis
Death
4/7

Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 16 + 13 + 10 + 5 + 4 + 8 + 1

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 14 + 19 + 1

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 6 + 19 + 13 + 10 + 3

There is but a breif flicker of incredulity which stabs through her as peripherally the backwards motion of her pridemate seemingly abandoning the battle is noted.

There is litteraly no time to ponder on potential reasons for the startling action as the yearling found it was now even more important than ever to focus on this battle.

Positioned at an slight angle facing his left hip the youth was not crushed or pinned when his rump suddenly and sharply desended. She was quite supprised however, and the jarring motion caused a painfull tug and strain on the muscles of her right front leg as it was jerked downwards. Her leg would end up aching for a day or two following the fight.

Choosing to try and make good use of his downwards motion Mirai attempted to 'stomp' a portion of her weight onto her right front paw attempting to use his downwards momentum along with her attempted stamp in an effort to try and dig her claws in deeply as well as bruise muscle and bone at the top of his tail near where it joined his body.

Her jaws moved to try and abandon the attempted attack on the flesh of his left hip, instead now aiming for his lower back a few inches above his hips, attempting to bite and gain a hold in the flesh over his spine . Instinctively treating him like dangerous prey as her profession had made such things instinctive.

To try and aid in keeping her ballance Mirai's hind legs widened their stance slightly, bending a hair more at the joints. Hind claws dug into the sandy soil.
------


@Dio & @Narsil vs. @Louve & Mirai

Challenge Type - Dominance
Round 2 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 9 + 14 + 20 + 12 + 18

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 4 + 11 + 8

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 20 + 7 + 3 + 8 + 14

code by corvus