Cassine took the time to explain to him what was going on before she went to go and oversee whatever scuffle it was the cubs had going on. Ole saw no reason not to let them at it. They would all have to get their claws wet eventually. And while it was interesting to see what the cubs might do the young male ended up turning his attention to Amara's fight instead. It was this fight that would eventually decide their fate. It was this fight that was the truly important one.

Still Ole couldn't help glancing over at Cassine to see how she was managing. It wasn't that he didn't think he could handle herself but simply because he saw her as the Matriarch in her mother's stead.

AMARA VS. RIELUS FOR WOLFBRON BLUFFS
— RESULTS —

Amara Hits: 2 + 4 + 5 + 3 + 4 + 2 luck = 20
Amara Dodges: 4 + 3 + 1 + 3 + 2 = 13

Rielus Hits: 3 + 2 + 2 + 5 + 2 + 2 luck = 16
Rielus Dodges: 2 + 1 + 3 + 4 + 0 = 10

Amara Successful Hits: 10
Rielus Successful Hits: 3

AMARA HAS WON THE CHALLENGE FOR WOLFBRON BLUFFS!

Please allow the challengers to respond to the fight results first. As per the site rules, if 3 days go by without a post from the challenger(s), they can be skipped. Whichever comes first! Any posts made before this will be removed, unless you are posting to another fight.

---

WOUNDED ROLL

performed on discord by @Squid

Rielus is automatically WOUNDED for losing!

Amara Wounded Roll: 1d5 = 1

Amara is NOT 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 March 3, 2022, and are logged in the wounded log. Once healed, post in Trade & Dice Updates to have your dice returned to normal.

Amara was over this. The lands weren't going to this fool. With him under her but holding onto her shoulders, she was in a position that wouldn't allow her to take the slice from him that she wanted to. As she felt his movement toward her neck she made the choice to allow his claws to drag along her shoulders as she pushed herself forward and broke free from his grasp. (Wallflower okayed the piggyback). She clawed her way up him until she was on top of him, attempting to leave claw marks everywhere she touched him. She growled loudly as she jumped to the ground and turned back to face him. Get. Out. Her wounds spilled blood onto her ground as she roared at him. These lands are ours! Her tail flicked sharply behind her, still unaware that her cubs were in a fight but tired of the strangers here. Anyone that isn't a member here is free to be attacked. They had no allies. They had no friends. They only had enough other and everyone else here was an annoyance to the fibers that knitted her together. She didn't care if some weren't trespassing. Bloodshed was allowed now. She had won. Driving away those who were unwanted was the only goal. She wouldn't hold her pride back if they wished to fight now.

She turned to find that there was another cub brawl happening, with the same fucking cub as before. Her wounds ached with every step she made toward @Seneca. Control your fucking child before I do it. Had they learned nothing from the last time? Amara's hardened gaze flicked over the cubs that were taking part in it, the scent of the Lagoon was mixed in as well. Her gaze whipped up to @Saga, had she put them up to it. She was still very much against harming cubs as an adult but this shit was getting old and fast. She watched the two faced lioness closely to see what she would do and if anyone might decide to take her out as well. So many smells rolled around her, so many faces melted together as she waited to see how things would play out, unwilling to leave her members until she knew that they were all safe.

Image by Machati and table code by Amanda

Defeat found itself as the lioness had clamored up his body, leaving thick trails of lacerations behind on his shoulders and backside. The immediate response was to buck her off, but their weights were equal enough that he wouldn't be able to move in the most violent of manner that might remove the lioness, and so he had taken the damages she trailed behind in her wrathful wake of winning. One glacial eye remained shut as blood dribbled downward, his face a mask of neutrality even as pain seemed to embody him. The singular eye gaze swung around the lions attending, finding @Ashelia among the group and he moved with instinct to shield her from any oncoming attack as Amara's roar echoed the arena.

Wolfbron was a hardy place with ugly souls inside. There was no time to make note of Diantha once more picking fights where she shouldn't and wasn't ready to. Surely Seneca would rebuke him for this foolery, especially as he had lost the fight for the pride. As a warrior he would not tuck tail and run, not when his lover was there, a supportive onlooker he had failed. Each step held effort at this point, the front of his body would bear scarring, but his ear would forever be a reminder of Amara and her pride land.

Quickly, we should leave, graveled voice spoke in an even tone to Ashelia, urging her to make away from the bluffs. They didn't want to be caught here on their territory, unfamiliar with the lay of land. Whatever the lions here wanted they would surely seek to destroy Andal now.

CODE • BG

Dramatic as it was, the great reveal of Amara's status did not have the same impact on him as it might have had on others. Vermier had never specifically stated he was the ultimate ruler within the pride, but he had mentioned a belief that women were superior. Ryker was left to assume they'd been playing some secret joke on the rest of the land, allowing lions to assume the man ruled and using that belief in their favor. It was hilarious. He loved it.

A wicked grin spread across his maw as Amara stood victorious. Good. He wouldn't have to seek out a new home - from what little impression he'd been able to form thus far, Wolfbron was made for beasts like himself under the current leadership. Not interested in preserving the peace or playing nice.

So when they were unleashed, he wasted very little time. A cursory glance showed him most immediately visible non-member spectators had been careful not to pass the territory line, but his gaze soon landed on one who had strayed within.

At least, he was pretty sure the man was at least a rogue. Ryker hadn't caught the guy's scent, but he looked shady and that was good enough for him.

He stood, stretched, and was off like a shot, aiming to rush in from the stranger's right side. Defenses fell into place by muscle memory alone. Ryker's left front paw would rise and attempt to slam flat against the other male's ribs, just behind the right shoulder, to brace himself and transfer a little of his momentum into the other man's body as Ryker's fangs attempted to sink deep into the muscle of the trespasser's right upper limb. Claws on his left forepaw would flex at the same time, trying to hook in and grip.

It had been far too long since his last taste of blood.

@Ryker vs. @Harrow
Dominance/GTFO
Round 1 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 11 + 4 + 19 + 10 + 13 + 6 + 16

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 15 + 7 + 8

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 16 + 14 + 1 + 7 + 13

+1 hit die for pride tier 4

@Druid

I'm a friend of the devil I'm a dangerous rebel

Fighting my way through the sins of the street I'm feeling psycho, psycho Where did my mind go? Biting my tongue and I'm loading my gun Back to the wind, better run, better run I'm feeling crazy, crazy Go 'head and make me It's the life that I can't escape, can't walk away There's blood in the ocean And I'm losing focus I'm a friend of the devil I'm a dangerous rebel

code by corvus

PSYCHOSOCIAL

Grinner. Cutter. Butcher. The air is potent with the smell of ichor, the sting of it, the metal tinge that draws in the buzzards and the flies and the filth; and oh, what paltry offerings. Amara and the challenger feed the dust and the slate and grime but for Gauthier, what? For these hungry beasts, these hounds, these cenobites of pleasurable violence and the artistry of ruination, what is given then? They all ache for it. He sees it in their eyes, the sheen of their teeth when their lips curl and their tongues rake for the want of it, the need of it. He himself watches each drop of blood wasted on this greedy ground, the cold coarse ground drinking it like an ancient desert.

His eyes raze the heavens for the grit of habit, but there is no gift of a moon's pale shadow to speak his fortunes today, no stars to smile and laugh in their hollow courts. There is only sky and cloud and the passing circle of ravens, vultures, picking at one another with anticipation.

As above, so below. The squabble of children is a disturbing facet to the chaos brimming in each measure of attendant; they know, children always know more than they should. But while the rest are entertained by the pile of cubs screeching and snarling, he is entertained by a vision in red, red, red. It spares none: not the half-mooned face of the dame in the eastern wing, not the King of the Hollows, not the piebald or his entourage. It matters not to him the flavor or the quality or the name.

So it is when Amara is pulled from her foe with a mouthful of blood that utters what sounds like burn them all to a hungry thing such as him, he does not pluck the prettiest, the ugliest, the biggest, the smallest. He goes for what his eyes first lay on.

Teeth bared, head low, ears pinned, Gauthier makes a streamlined bolt for @Ebrahim, his heart a chainsaw, his stomach a pit.

He intends to arc near the last moment in an attempt to force his weight against the male's right side - his left arm outstretched and claws unsheathed, trying to swing and dig his talons into the tender space between Ebrahim's shoulderblades, jaws wide with the desire to clamp whatever part of the face, skull, neck he can possibly grab hold of. Gauthier does not move for strategy or hate, no mind for glory or failure.

The hound is hungry, and he will have his cut of meat.

Gauthier vs. @Ebrahim
Dom Match
Round 1 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 6 + 8 + 13 + 15 + 14 + 2

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 12 + 2 + 9

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 11 + 14 + 10 + 12 + 5

s the cloudy girl finally made it from the peaks of their lands. It didn't take her long to figure out that Mere won and that bitch cub was back at it again. While Elaine and her siblings had learned how to take a lesson, it was clear this one had not. With the little witch taken care of, she set her focus was on @Zahra and she blasted toward her as other adults started crashing into their own fights. She came in like a wrecking ball and "attempted" to bowl into her side as she "attempted" to bite at her neck. She gave very little regard to how it would cause others in the fight to react but getting this stranger off her brother was the goal with her attack.

Elaine, @Louve ♔, @Ursula, @Xavier vs @Diantha, @Zahra
for vengeance/dominance
1/3

Hits:

Rolling 3d20: 14 + 9 + 10

Dodges:

Rolling 1d20: 7

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 8 + 1 + 15 + 10 + 14

table by k'sariya

Roan watched silently from a distance. He vaguely paid attention to the other scuffles, but again, it was not his business to engage or have an opinion. All he was curious about was on who would win the pride challenge. In the end, it would be Amara. Whether that surprised the man or not, he wasn't certain, but he'd rather feel like he still knew the ruler here than to have to deal with a new stranger on the throne. Especially when it seemed to be another Andal challenger that had stepped up to try and take a pride. Luckily, they would not expand their territory to the Bluffs as Amara stood victorious.

With the starry woman's instruction to her pride to attack anyone not of the Bluffs, Roan would not linger a moment more. While he was not Amara's enemy, they were not allies either. The mauve lion wouldn't put it past any of her members to simple follow orders. Just as he was about to leave, though, the Hodari spotted one of his own among the crowd. "@Hiccup!" The masked man would attempt to call over the crowd towards the yearling. Should Roan gain the boy's attention, there would be a sharp nod of his head away from the Bluffs as if to say Let's go! Seeing Wolfbron lions already aiming to pick fights, though, Roan wouldn't wait for a response before vacating the lands. He's end up waiting just outside the borders to make sure Hiccup would follow, though.

exit Roan

Table & Image by Amanda | Background | Lineart

+10 Remain undetected in a large thread (5+ characters)
+10 Sneak into a pride or group without getting caught

+5 Observe a challenge and learn the results

He kept peeping around the rock he was hiding behind carefully so as not to get caught, but when chaos started to erupt on the sidelines he felt like he was safe to keep a closer eye on things.

Tobin noticed Roan joined the observers and was tempted to join him but he suspected it would take longer to get down there than it would for the fight to conclude, and he was proven correct shortly thereafter. It would seem as though the woman who had stepped up to the fight would win, and the Dieu would retain their pride. A pity, he thought, but he also knew that anyone who could succeed in uprooting them would find themselves on shaky footing anyway. The family certainly wouldn't roll over and let it happen.

With the battle now over and Roan also leaving the scene below, Tobin turned and began to make his way back the way he had come, covering his tracks along the way. No need to make it obvious anyone had been there.

-exit tobin-

@Baphome speaks, introducing his sister as Iseult and his babes - three sweet freckled children, courtesy of him and his wife who he gestured towards. He glanced over to the resting woman, who was seated beside a chimera-like female. A heart-warming sight of both his young and older cousins. span title="I am home">Je suis à la maison.

The russet Dieudonne man assures him that this is simply some entertainment before the feast. Soon, @Iseult adds. Apollinaire knows how to have patience. After all, he was not an impatient man. He could control himself. Most of the time. He wasn't especially starved today, but this outright challenge and trespassing couldn't be tolerated for long and was sparking his appetite.

He remains seat, for now, listening as his poor young cousins inquire after food. Oh, but how cruel it was to deny them that! How awfully cruel, really, but they too must learn patience. They will feed soon enough, and so will the neat Dieudonne lion. Iseult, evidently protective of her little nieces and nephews, was ready to rip anyone to shreds should they touch a hair on their tiny heads. Apollinaire smirks, his crimson eyes remaining on the ongoing battle, but his words were meant for his company. "Mon repaire est aussi très dépourvu de décorations," He must ammend that immediately! His new home needed a bit more enrichment.

And then! The night-sky Dieudonne woman - the Sovereign of their kingdom - defeated her challenger, sending him away to lick his wounds with the viciousness that only his kin could hold. The females of his family never had to prove themselves to the men, but Apollinaire was always watchful, never outright disloyal, but curious to know if they can hold their own. Certainly, Amara had proven herself and only solidified his respect for her strength and leadership abilities.

It made him incredibly happy that the show was over. And the feast was only now beginning.

Elegantly, as if rising to go and sip on the finest wine, the Dieudonne lion stood to his feet. "Excusez-moi, mes chers cousins," He swiftly pardoned himself, his tongue drawing against his dark lips. "Bon appétit." One second his frame was calmly standing by them, and the next...

He was lunging in a sprint towards the nearest neck.

His target was not of importance. A pale-furred doe sounded mouth-watering, especially when the mongrel who had dared to reach for Dieudonne property was evidently protective of her. Yes, he can use a lesson or two, what Amara had done today was not going to be enough. He charged in from her free side, the one not shielded by the injured fool. Apollinaire's hungry jaws would snake forward and attempt to bite directly her bare neck, caring little where exactly, as long as he could try and maintain a grip. Meanwhile, the unsheathed claws of his left paw tried to hook around her front limb, attempting to tear at the important tendons and pull towards himself so he could try and shake her balance.

Apollinaire vs. @Ashelia
Dominance (om nom nom)
Round 1 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 14 + 18 + 13 + 5 + 12 + 2 + 4

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 12 + 3 + 16 + 15 + 19

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 19 + 12 + 2 + 15 + 20 + 16

+1 hit dice for WB being a Tier 4 pride