He's toyed with the idea of returning to his home for weeks.

It's been years, he's certain. If the growth of his mane isn't enough to tell, then the sheer change the Summit has endured is. The snow and wind always reshapes the mountains, and with the deep-seated winter creeping in, the bank was already almost up to his elbows. The sun was beginning to set, but the clouds had already begun to crowd in, bathing Illyria in a dim, lonely light.

And for a moment, there is quiet. Even the last of the winter birds do not sing.

Then a call rings out.

Radahn is running before he knows it.

He does not recognize the voice of the challenger but he knows its intent well. He had last left them in the throes of a challenge and now he would return to them in one. He shoves his way through the wet and heavy snow just as it begins to fall from the sky, with a torturous slowness that betrays the hastening of his heartbeat and the thundering pace that follows.

He doesn't understand why he's feeling panicked. His mother has reined victorious through challenges just like this, and has yet to find herself defeated. Morrigan would answer the call, and she would win. Morrigan, who cut her teeth on war, who wrested herself free of Death's inevitable clutch.

But it is not Morrigan who answers the call. It's @Talisa. Gentle, faithful, inextinguishable Talisa.

There is hatred in her. There is fury in her. And the sight of it brings him both terror and reverence, that war for dominance on his wild-eyed expression. But with almost clinical precision he fixes himself, and adopts a face more steeled, focused look.

He recognizes few in attendance beyond his younger brother, a boy he'd barely cared to know when he believed himself destined for things he thought greater. But now, the boy was no longer just a boy, and Radahn knew better than to believe himself greater than anything he wasn't capable of proving himself.

She likely feels she must, he echoes after @Fearne, coming to settle beside his brother. But there is a noticeable, cavernous gap between them. Do you know her?

With the weakened state of Morrigan from the war and the Mire's challenge, not that he'd ever call her weak. More like, weary, and injured. Eskel knew she was ferocious, and would fight tooth and nail for their home... but without her being at full capacity, he fretted. He worried for the pride, worried that Talisa would have to defend it- worried for his Queens.

The bellowing roar that echoed through the land... was the nightmare he'd fretted about. Eskel went positively rigid, as he stood where he'd been patrolling. His heart thundered in his chest, as he moved towards summoner. He hoped to beat either Talisa or Morrigan- to warn them away, to do something to prevent this.

He had no such luck.

He arrived to see Talisa go for the fight, and his heart stuttered to a stop. Eskel's claws sank into the ice and snow, as his gaze narrowed and fixed onto his mate and this challenger. His fur bristled with rage, as his tail lashed. He did not call out to Talisa, he watched, a silent support- not wanting to distract her.

Should she fall, he'd do whatever he could to make this lioness pay.

For now, he remained silent and murderously brooding.

ART COPYRIGHT IRISH

a little wicked
that's what he calls me

When the call of a challenge for the Summit rings through the land, she is intrigued and brought from her rageful waste in the Boneyard. Helah swears with each step she takes steam radiates from her pawprints. The rage she'd tapped into during the war, has not lessened and instead it seems to nearly boil over. She treks up the side of the mountain, stalking forward towards the crowd that gathers- battered ears flicking, as she approaches.

She had never truly gotten to know Brighid, but this ambition? This surprises her. She does not think she ever thought the pallid woman had this within her. She wonders what the female would look like with a crown atop her head, among her curled ears. Would she bear it's weight?

Helah would push among those gathered, those strays and rouges- and stand there, eyes on the would be Queen of the Summit- waiting to see which way the tides would turn.

table by ryuu

whiny - the lot of them. sniveling, groveling, growling and staring daggers into her wintry pelt. she finds some comfort in anya's presence, fixing the young woman with an even stare before she continues wait as the summit's inhabitants arrive. she knows nothing of this place or its rulers; cares little for their gripes. this place speaks home to her, just as much as it does them. funny, how lions seem to forget the law of nature when it does not benefit them. was this not their way?

brighid's attention flits to the brown furred woman that approaches. her posture shifts as she draws nearer, looking down the bridge of her nose. the once-queen says nothing, an ear hardly flickering in acknowledgement.

you talk too much, she thinks, those same words having been spoken to an enemy when she had fought in the scillian war: where unknowingly, they had been allies on the same side of the bloodied sands. the woman's lips peel back then and she snarls, fur bristling as the snow swirls around them. gaze narrowed, she finds herself losing patience as the ruler of the summit looks to her people. steeled. focus. a growl rumbles deep in her throat.

and finally, the moment she had been waiting for.

the lioness charges towards her and brighid hears the frost crunch as she instinctively braces her hindpaws. she raises her left paw, allowing the limb to hover as the shoulder lands at her chest. bruising blossoms blue and ugly beneath her pelt, her breath stolen from her for a heartbeat. in their closeness, that paw lashes out violently towards her opponent's right side, attempting to rake alongside her ribs and drag back to hook into the crook of her armpit to keep her steady. jaws, open and panting, with breath clouding about her whiskers as she finds her breath, brighid aims to sink her fangs right into the crook of sovereign's neck at the junction of her shoulder. bury them deep, twist the knife, run her red.

brighid vs @Talisa
for illyria summit
round 1 of 5
Hits:

Rolling 9d20: 2 + 19 + 14 + 15 + 12 + 8 + 7 + 4 + 20

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 3 + 20 + 6 + 10

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 11 + 3 + 17 + 5 + 20

no fear before the fire, creature of desire
true as mary magdalene

ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY JAVS

There could only be fire in her soul as she kept her breaths as even as she could following her blow to the other's chest. Heaving her own lungs to make themselves useful once more for the last things he wanted to do was allow her heart to give out. Every ounce of her being hated this moment and the lengths that she was having to go to in an effort to protect. Morrigan and herself had been at odds with that process as of late. Not being given one second to really breathe beyond the war that had occurred within the Lagoon that had left Morrigan exceedingly wounded. Should she have fought, their odds of continued living in their twisted version of paradise would have been quite smaller.

So as they collided and the other lioness swept her claws out to Talisa's right side and she could feel the skin tearing. Blood beginning to swell at its surface (moderate lacerations) until claws stuck within the crook of her leg leaving the area to burn hot and leaving Talisa to try and harness her focus further. Though as she began to see a flash of teeth, Talisa tried to block the others tooth-filled attack to her neck by attempting to thrust her head at Brighid's in a headbutt. Wishing to utilize more than just teeth and claws, but to lessen the damage that was done to her today. There was more to a fight than using the most obvious tools.

Talisa vs. @Brighid ♔
for Illyria Summit
Round 2 / 5
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 18 + 15 + 12 + 10 + 17 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 11 + 6 + 3 + 13 + 7 + 1

Luck:

Rolling 8d20: 5 + 3 + 12 + 16 + 13 + 2 + 10 + 8

*** Talisa is taking Morrigan's place in this fight.
*** +1 luck for Summit's Pride Tier 4.
*** +1 luck for the attendance of the Summit's Lead Advisor.

ART • CODE

The call for her crown did not come as a surprise to the Summit Queen. She'd suspected how fiercely her enemies had begun to plot her downfall after her recent ethereal transgressions, but perhaps that had made her blind to the oldest enemy of any throne in Amaryllis. Good old fashioned ambition. At least it was a woman's voice who tolled the bells. That alone ruled out the worst of them. It as perhaps this small salve alone that allowed her to swallow the bitter pill offered in @Talisa's purple eyes. Eyes that had always meant more to Morrigan than any crown, or even her own pride, for those things had been built upon the foundation of a native princess and her freely given love.

Besides, what argument could the Old Queen make? Yes, Morrigan had carved herself a legend with a river of blood, but she'd always known the one enemy she'd never be able to defy. Time. Morrigan had known even as the claws had sliced through her flesh that the wounds she took in those last battles wouldn't heal the way they used to. Septima and Hazel had done their best, among others, but just as time was now her greatest enemy, it would also be the only solace from her injuries. Even as she stood she could feel the weakness in herself. She'd given too much to the sands of the Lagoon, and someone was cunning enough to come and take more.

Not enough to see the truth that had always been in plain view of anyone who had ever really known the Summit leadership. Morrigan's crown was all for show, a neat little target for their enemies to aim for. It was only the sword in hand that had ever truly mattered for her. Talisa was the true heart, the true matriarch at the center of the beautiful web they'd spun together. The true power. Their enemies had left them with no choice but to finally show those cards, and leave the outcome in the hands of the gods. She followed more slowly behind Talisa, unable to match her furious pace, using the time to send a prayer to the gods for strength. The Valour woman was, after all, Maua's most faithful and steadfast servant in Morrigan's view.

Morrigan did not recognize the challenger as an enemy upon viewing @Brighid ♔. Considering the card she would hold should she come out victorious today, it would have to be enough for now. If she needed a bit more steel in her spine, though, the Gods were kind enough to provide in the form of a very familiar voice. A man who had been here the very day Morrigan and Talisa had claimed this mountain, and one who had been family long before that. "@Aquila?" she half-questioned, for she hadn't expected to see him again until death decided to take her and keep her. It was him she would join as the dance for the Summit began, Morrigan herself not in the midst of it for the very first time in her life. And yet a small smile played around her scarred lips, crinkled the healing flesh around her missing eye.

"Now they will see her for the Queen she had always been," it was not just pride in her voice as she settled next to one of her eldest comrades, but rather reverence. "No matter what happens here, better a woman to usurp us than a Rike any day. We can reserve the... quick way down the mountain for our true enemies. Those who would seek to enslave us. It remains to be seen if this stranger is among them." As she watched, Morrigan imagined she could see the holy rage alight in her wife's form, not as practiced as herself perhaps, but equally if not moreso ferocious. "Even so, I almost pity her for having to face Talisa's wroth." She made no effort to keep her voice lowered in her own kingdom, in fact rather hoped it carried to her sons where she attempted to meet her remaining eye with @Radahn and @Fearne should they look her way.

All of those loyal to the Summit would have to trust in their Queen and in the divine, just as they always had. It had brought them this far. It would see them through in the end. One look at @Eskel told her what she needed to know of his thoughts, and she shared the same anxiety he did, the same feeling of utter wrongness to let the one thing the pair of them had always protected to ferociously be the one doing the protecting. To him she would chuff to join her, seeking his comfort though she would not voice such a thing. Now was not the time for weakness. Not when her enemies, whether responsible for this challenge or not, would send their spies to see the outcome. They would wish to know what befell them.

table coding by ferus

the blood is warm and distinct compared to the frigid mountain air. it wells up between her claws and brighid finds some small victory at having flesh wrenched within her palm. when her opponent's head rushes towards her, it isn't something that can be easily avoided.

she can hear her heartbeat drum in her ears, so loudly that it drowns out the sounds of her own fury. in this moment, the crowd around them is gone and her own ambition plays behind her eyelids. a seat on the throne had been all she ever knew until she learned of heartbreak and earth crushing loss. she knows what it felt like to be a pawn to the cruelty of fate. it fuels her, it motivates her, she thinks of her brood and of anya and -

and they're close enough that it isn't devastating, though the glancing blow still hurts. pain radiates between her eyes and in frustration, brighid seeks to jostle her hooked claws within the crook of talisa's arm, almost as if attempting to shake her like a belligerent child in hopes to further carve into the delicate skin there like a finger in an open wound. she'd incapacitate her if she could.

brighid vs @Talisa
for illyria summit
round 2 of 5
Hits:

Rolling 9d20: 12 + 10 + 15 + 7 + 20 + 1 + 3 + 17 + 2

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 10 + 3 + 18 + 7

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 16 + 12 + 10 + 11 + 2

Rolling barbarianberserk 1d30: 19
You have failed to go berserk!

no fear before the fire, creature of desire
true as mary magdalene

ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY JAVS

she's got the devil in her eyes
pretty in the light, even prettier at night

The call that rings throughout the air is one that is set closer to home. She was not comfortable with that but she knew that these types of challenges happened and she could only hope that her own children would mind and stay in the Plains where it would be much safer. Especially with Aphrodite knowing that she had enemies in a few places that might take their anger out on her children. But did Aphrodite check to see if her children hadn't followed her? No, the Black Widow had left the Plains and went to the Summit. She knew they were allies, or she assumed they were and felt safe being in the mountains territory but when she arrived, it was not @Morrigan who was fighting but another.

Violet jewels glanced through the crowd until she found the woman who she would've thought was fighting and moved closer towards her. She was by others but Aphrodite made sure she was polite enough to let Morrigan know of her appearance as violet jewels locked in on the woman who had called for the Summit's crown. Ears swiveling on top of her head as she glanced to see if Harou was here yet and she didn't see him. She wasn't sure that was a relief or not but she listened to what Morrigan was saying and stayed alert.


ooc: Aphrofite is opened for interactions/fights.

table by ryuu

As loathe as he is to admit it, these spectacles were often the best places to look for someone. There weren't many other reasons for large gaggles of lions to congregate unless it was some fucked up lion orgy (he knew lions and their polygamous ways, disgusting) that he had absolutely conjured up in his mind with no scientific evidence backing it. It clearly happened, though, because there were far too many of the stinky cats around to suggest they were being chaste creatures of the cloth.

Hector glances over his shoulder to see whether or not Ezryn is pursuing but moves ahead anyway, knowing she may not want to submerge herself into this chaos quite yet. Hector would go on ahead and look, it's not like anyone would notice a random ass tiger blending in with the snow.

Glory and fame

Blood is our name

Of course she arrived fashionably late. By the time she arrived, the fight was already well under way.

No stranger was she to the challenges that rung out so often across the land. But this was different. This was...personal. Gracefully, she shifted. No longer simply trotting but stalking. Pointed ears pinned against her skull, flattening enough to nearly disappear into the obsidian portion of luscious waves. Lips peeled from sharp fangs in a vicious growl as she moved closer.

There was a brief moment where it all faded. A moment where she briefly brushed against @Alvena in an unspoken greeting. But then she moved on. Violet gaze wandered over those who were present, lingering on one she knew didn't belong. Her gaze darted towards the borders, watching, wondering how many more lurked beyond, waiting for a chance.

Though for the moment it seemed none appeared and so she moved on, stalking towards her other Queen. Coming up on @Morrigan's side where the other would see her, the striped woman made her presence known with a rumble before vacating the spot for the one that had been called for. She still remained, though, moving to leave room but within speaking distance, tall and proud with her head held high, long fangs on display for anyone who dared to move against them, tail lashing behind her.

"The pale one moves quick. But that isn't always enough, right?" A calm question posed to both her Queen and @Aquila. Though she was grown now, she was still just a girl in so many aspects. Had seen so many fights now but had only fought few battles herself, still yearning for more experience, more knowledge.

code by corvus