His grip secured, she bit harder down and only invigorated him further. Blood trailed down from his split cheek, pouring generously down his chin. Pain engulfed his face, his head pounding like a drum as numbness spread throughout his spine to the point that he no longer felt the flesh surrounding the wound there.

He snarled viciously, his teeth seeking to bury deeper into her neck, trying to sever that life-giving vein that would end this undeserving rat’s life once and for all. If she wanted to live, she would have to give in, before it is too late.

But who can guarantee that her life afterward, as his prisoner, won’t be worse than death?

It mattered little what dirty tricks she used on him. He was about to take her down and return to his rightful place as Ecrosian monarch. She was a fool for even daring to set her dirty fingers on what was not hers, on what would not accept her. The thorn knows its rightful ruler, and it will never be a sea roach.

Once King, he will do his very best to eradicate the Sigrun and all who stand with them.

It was time he freed the valley of their scourge.

Luther vs. @Zahra
for Ecrosia Mire
Round 5 / 5
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 4 + 1 + 5 + 17 + 15 + 8 + 10

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 12 + 4 + 14 + 15

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 3 + 12 + 10 + 17 + 18

Given no title, Bruno took one. Blessed with no sons, Bruno raised one. Where Luther was bestowed with greater size than he or Yrsa would ever reach, Bruno demanded all the required knowledge to make himself a true threat regardless. It was no surprise, then, that his speed and cunning aided him in felling the brawny woman, for he would not allow anything less of himself – he could not. He seethed through a dribbling smile as he tasted the iron of her neck, finally releasing his hold of the falling lioness as moved to crash their skulls together.

The world went dark for a moment. While recoil was to be expected with such a brutish move, Bruno had not anticipated her to stand rigid against his swinging skull, adrenaline seeping through his veins as flashes of his last day in Ecrosia threatened to make themselves known through the bruising.

Gods damn it, Bruno! Are you a Stärke or a Rike? Are you really like your brother? Like them?

"Ich bin beides, du Narr!" I am both, you fool! And despite the truth of his retort, the words tasted like bile on his tongue as he found himself unable to resist answering to a Sigrún lackey for his very existence.

Perhaps blacking out at the impact would have been the greater mercy – less painful than to hear that voice, familiar yet gravelly, tolling out over the mire.

Her feud is not ours, Bruno.

The impish curls of his ears swept back against his mane. Bruno whipped his attention from the dark banshee to the crowd around them, searching quickly through faces until he found those matching jades he had been given as his only birthright. Those seconds strolled like minutes, his heart racing and his breath ragged with exertion as he looked upon the man who had built him from mire muck and felt all the familiarity of a stranger. Where had this Alaric been when he was a boy, aching and desperate at his mother's passing? Had this been the Alaric to cast her body before their very feet and declare the filth that plagued Sigrún-kind? Had this been the same Alaric to take up the causes of a stranger against his own eldest? Bruno could not help but wonder, shaking and shuddering, if Alaric had always counted his Rike sons as separate from himself and if he was only now noticing.

"Das hast du für uns entschieden, du Feigling!" You decided this for us, you coward! Bruno prowled a step toward that wreckless creator, his head tucked low between his shoulders and his knuckles quivering to keep him rooted in place. "Du kannst sie ficken und vergessen. Ich werde ein Rike sein, bis du es aus meinem Blut löschst." You can fuck her and forget her, but I will be a Rike until you drain it from my blood. He did not doubt the Sigrúns this zealot fed and harbored would do it the moment they got the chance.

He could barely get the words out before pivoting back toward his initial target, eyes narrowed into hateful slits as he threw himself recklessly toward her front leg once more, attempting to barrel into it with the fullness of his weight.

---

BRUNO vs. @Morrigan
for Major Maim
Round 3 / 4
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 17 + 13 + 15 + 6 + 9 + 5 + 8 + 16

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 12 + 20 + 5 + 2 + 6

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 19 + 1 + 7 + 3 + 18

@Alaric

ART BY 86 | CODE BY LARS | MODIFIED BY MAX

as the battlefield quiets down

Idunn nods as Morrigan points out the real Rike Jarl, some unpleasant looking man with one eye (what was it with these bloodlines are their affinity for half-sightedness?) how... charming. is her only comment for his smirk.

There is but a moment to process the information before @Eisa barrels forward, proclaiming all in a moment her own title, and in that second, Idunn can't help but be impressed. So the Sigrun continued to hold their women in high regard after Saga's death after all....

She tried not to think about her mother's fathomed wrath that her children could not claim her legacy instead.

She watches, half in horror and half in anticipation, as the women beside her exploded into battle - their claws turned to swords and their teeth to shields in the blink of an eye. It was more than a challenge now. Sigrun and Rike had held up their banners behind their chosen champion here, the placeholders for decades of bad blood and death that plagued their families.

It was both her birthright and her bane, and Idunn bristled in the uncertainty as she stood, frozen to the spot. Zahra, Morrigan, and Eisa raged in front of her eyes and she... crouched... staring, barely registering for a moment that @Alaric flanked her a tail's length away.

Saga, are you watching?

+5 - Attend a challenge (2/2)
+5 - Socialize with 2 other characters in a thread (Morrigan, Eisa) (2/2)

I will be the last one standing

code x art x inspo

Morrigan hears the voice of @Alaric at the same moment Bruno does, straining through the reeling pain and spots of darkness as she shakes her head. her feud is not ours, bruno. "If only that were true," this time she said it in common, half to herself as she took Bruno's brief distraction as an opportunity to pull herself from the Mire mud. The same earth she'd once rejoiced over Erna's death upon while she had moved to shield her killer, watched as Alaric dragged the Rike woman's body away from the aftermath of a war her own daughter lit the spark for. Her own granddaughter had just announced herself as the Sigrún Jarl. Morrigan herself had borne Sigrún blood in her womb. And now she'd taken her oldest enemy to her bed. She was merely getting what she'd paid for.

I am both, you fool, he'd said, and she chose to continue in the common tongue, so anyone listening may understand. Let him claim to be one of these monsters with their sins lain out before him if he so chose, "You will bow to your brother, should he win, then? Your brother who killed your father and took your loyalists prisoner? Or perhaps you'll bend to your Jarl, a man who would send a girl broken and bleeding to her enemy's doorstep for solace?" I will be a Rike until you drain it from my blood. Venomous eyes spun back to her and he lunged once more for her, throwing all his rage behind his body weight. As he impacted she would attempt to drop once more, buckling her leg painfully but avoiding a snap as her jaws lunged in a real attempt at bloodshed this time for the left side of his face. "I don't believe you."

@Morrigan vs. @Bruno ♔
For MAJOR MAIM
Round III / IV
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 18 + 2 + 5 + 12 + 14 + 7 + 10 + 11

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 9 + 11 + 15 + 10

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 5 + 11 + 18 + 14 + 16 + 19

table coding by ferus

TRIGGER WARNING!
This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of blood and gore, marked by **

She was smart to drop her weight then, those mere inches of separation from his original target enough to steal velocity from his attack – what could be the difference between breakage and bruising. Bruno grunted at the impact and scrambled to catch himself with regained footing, only anchoring himself into her snapping jowls as they closed harshly against the thin flesh of his face like angered thorns.

"You will bow to your brother, should he win, then? Your brother who killed your father and took your loyalists prisoner? Or perhaps you'll bend to your Jarl, a man who would send a girl broken and bleeding to her enemy's doorstep for solace?"

Even if it had not been a joke, Bruno was barking a laugh. He could recite Luther's sins better than any casual observer of his brutish brother, yet there their father stood despite Morrigan's claims – there he shirked that bloody mantle upon his seed once it had grown too grotesque for his liking. It was almost as funny as admonishing a bit of blood before considering what penance was demanded from those who had and continued to murder his kind.

"I do not answer to you, wench," he seethed through snarling ridges of his complexion. He reached out his right paw to try and snake it behind her own as she bit into his face, lunging forward with his shoulder jutted out to try and knock over the hulking woman once again.

"I don't believe you."

"Believe this." Words, for all their uses, could not eviscerate flesh and bone. Bruno could. Bruno would. ** He lunged with parted jaws to try and tear at that already-battered limb, reframing the night-pelted zealot as no more than the prey the Sigrún saw him as. She could be crushed. She could be torn. With blood streaming down his face in a steady, sickening stream, the Stärke-Rike son attempted to wrench her front limp entirely asunder so there was no telling where his marshy kingdom ended and that senile witch began. **

---

BRUNO vs. @Morrigan
for Major Maim
Round 4 / 4
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 2 + 12 + 10 + 1 + 20 + 7 + 18 + 15

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 2 + 11 + 1 + 7 + 4

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 5 + 6 + 12 + 11 + 18

ART BY 86 | CODE BY LARS | MODIFIED BY MAX

“BRUNO— !”
He had wanted to bite his tongue, truly. He had wanted to wait until his hard-headed husband had disengaged from his opponent before shouting at him. Every blow exchanged between the clashing pair was a blow to his patience though, and as he stood on the sidelines, where he had followed Bruno’s tail and stopped to stare in disbelief, he was losing his own battle — a battle that he’d never had any hope of winning.

Ecrosia Mire may have been Bruno’s legacy, but it was little more than a place of nightmares for the Hodari. It was where Bruno had nearly been ripped to pieces by his psychotic brother — the same brother who he had fought to free their children from. It was a place that Tai never wanted to visit again, and yet there he stood with an accusing look of pained anger in his narrowed, watering eyes. Mud squished between his toes and the familiar stank of grime and bloodshed overwhelmed his senses, further gnawing away at his wavering composure.

He would not forgive him for dragging them back into the place they had barely escaped from.

For putting his rage before their family’s safety.

artwork • coding

Once, the marshes had been her home. It was where she and her sisters had been born and lived as prinzessinnen as during their vater’s reign. But it was where they had been held captive by their prima donna of an uncle once he’d finally managed to snatch away the sovereignty over the Mire. There was no doubt in her mind that he would’ve personally seen to it that his brother’s loose ends were eventually cleaned up had they not been rescued — maybe not wholly reunited, yet freed nonetheless.

Silke had never tasted freedom before — not like the sheer independence she’d found in the weeks that had followed. It might’ve seemed crazy that she return to the place where that autonomy and even her very life could be taken from her, and yet the border stood within reach, awash in blood and mixed scents, through which she could only barely make out—

Vater— ?
Dad … ?

Though the trail was muddled, it had led her to the Mire. It nearly felt absurd to think they were there — but the voice that called out, shouting “Bruno— !” through the chaos pulled at her. Somewhere, he dad was yelling at vater, and if THAT wasn’t real enough for her …

Diving into the thick, familiar underbrush, the misplaced daughter sought to sneak her way deeper into the territory, searching …

---

Sleuth
+10 Remain undetected in a large thread (5+ characters)

Outlaw
+5 Follow a character without getting caught (Bruno)

artwork • coding

The object of her search emerged in pristine, perfect condition. Reactive but smaller. Yelling at her without even a smirk needed to instigate. Toblerone consciously creased her ears back. Brows heft, the wrinkle between them painted with worry. Her tail looped with glee then subsided, low and taut. "Only your tattered coat, beeeatch!" imitation insult but stronger, better. One paw cupped toward her chest. "Last season called, it wants its style back." Lips stretched into that authoritative pout then vanquished all expression save for expedient teeth. Jaws aimed to lunge, slashing and mocking, toward that heckling muzzle. And with a bit of a hop intended to bring her closer she swapped up her paws to scoop up some mud. Trick shot! A spray of mud aimed at the face.

@Toblerone vs. @Valentine
Dominance
1/3

Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 13 + 1 + 4 + 20 + 10 + 11 + 7

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 10 + 5 + 6 + 17 + 18

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 2 + 6 + 9 + 13 + 12

+10 Learn something about pride/group/family relations
+10 Pass along information that might be important

---

Next he looked @Zenith @Glenda they were heading out, leaving behind them filling pawprints and a warm though wan sense of accomplishment. His knowledge of the territory had been able to help someone. But what else could he do? He fret and kept glancing between the other fights while spinning his body enough to see. Perhaps he might spin himself off the earth. He heard what @Morrigan was saying to some shaggy, determined male. Brother of the Mire challenger? There had been some family reason behind the swamp raid before but he didn't know how this was connected. Was there going to be another war here, win or lose? It wasn't that valuable. He'd moved around enough that nothing anywhere seemed more than property.

@Luther ♔ VS. @Zahra FOR ECROSIA MIRE
— RESULTS —

Luther Hits: 3 + 5 + 3 + 4 + 2 + 9 luck = 26
Luther Dodges: 4 + 3 + 2 + 3 + 3 = 15

Zahra Hits: 3 + 4 + 4 + 3 + 3 + 10 luck = 27
Zahra Dodges: 3 + 3 + 1 + 2 + 2 = 11

Luther Successful Hits: 15
Zahra Successful Hits: 12

LUTHER HAS WON THE CHALLENGE FOR ECROSIA MIRE!

The results of this fight cannot be acknowledged ICly until either both challengers have responded or 3 days have gone by — whichever comes first. Any posts breaking this rule will be removed.

---

WOUNDED ROLL

performed on discord by @Roamer ★

Zahra is automatically WOUNDED for losing!

Luther Wounded Roll: 3

Luther is WOUNDED!

Profiles will be adjusted to reflect the wounded rolls, which, if received, reduce the character’s hits and dodges by -1 for an standardized amount of time. Any wounded rolls received from this fight are considered healed as of 8/18/24 and are logged on the character’s profile. Once healed, post in Trade & Dice Updates to have your dice returned to normal.