With the children being less and less reliant on her milk, Erna knew that her shackles were broken. Freedom tasted sweet and what better way to celebrate it than take her rightful place beside her husband? She didn't know what his reaction would be, but she was certain that he won't let her take the title without a fight. Erna expected no less. When was anything given out free? While she knew that she would never have the same power as him ( what a preposterous thought ), Erna cared little for that fact. The idea of even having the opportunity to step up was strange to the Rike woman. It was more than enough. She wanted to be on top, to reinstate her dominance over other women who flocked the Mire like bees to honey. Erna wanted to be the center of attention.

A woman ruling was unimaginable just a few months ago. She was no leader by any means, and she was unsure how far her "influence" would spread but assumed it won't be far. She had no interest in the politics of this land, but she would be a fool to not make use of these favorable circumstances. The place beside Alaric was hers and hers alone. Let him take more wives, let him have more children - she cared little as long as these women knew where they belonged in the totem pole: beneath her.

The long-toothed banshee emerged into a familiar clearing and halted. Good, this will do. Her head lifted to let out a few chuffs, placing her claim and offering a battle to whoever wanted to test her. She will be Sovereign.

Erna vs. ???
for EM Sovereign
Round 0 / 3

coded by flea + art by rabbit

"speech."

The chuffs were heard, insistent and demanding. They would capture his attention and like moth to flame he would come. Ears forward and head held at shoulder height as he came upon the bearish bitch that Alaric called wife, mismatched gaze would fixate with interest on the ambitious woman. She was already a Barony, but he imagined that she hungered for a top position as queen, he remembered how she damn near coiled around Alaric possessively at the challenge for King. She had done the same at the meeting. It seemed whenever there was a chance to display her claim to Alaric, she made certain to do so. Was it a surprise that she was issuing a challenge for rank? No. Did she deserve it? No. But that was not for him to decide.

The bitch was a fighter but she had a lot to learn in his mind. The warmonger would nod to her, coming to a stop opposite her and to the right, waiting for others to show up. Who would Alaric demand she fight? Perhaps the King would fight her himself but he doubted it. Ronin did not sit, just in case he was called to fight her, he wanted to be ready.

code by corvus

Patchouli had been in the vicinity when the challenge rang out. She thought to simply ignore it and go about her duties, it wasn't something that concerned her. Even if she had a desire to fight and the training for it, she could never become battle-ready. What would ultimately guide her there was curiosity about the lioness, whom she had seen a couple of times in passing now, but was certainly one Patchouli felt she never wanted to run into when she was alone. Was she not already a queen? Perhaps she assumed too quickly that Alaric would take a mate and place her in such a position.

Aside from her, there was also a male there that Patchouli had seen once before. She had never spoken to the male, but it seemed impolite not to, at the very least, introduce herself. Sir, I should like to introduce myself to you properly. I am called Patchouli. She offered quietly as she approached @Ronin, head bowing low.

Once she gave pause for a response and provided he offered little else in return, she would take some paces away before sitting down and watching @Erna carefully. One never knew when an angry female might take a swat at you, but it would be hard for her to do so as long as Patchouli kept far out of range.

image by moogle/code by saph

a pretty little thing are you - it is dastardly. the way that she would make her arrival unto the fray of battle with a sickening grouch of rocking ships. it is nearly a sin to show her face amongst the rike woman after so easily besting her before, she wonders if she will be told off. chased away or even called forth to the challenge once more - and while fighting her while wounded is not a possibility that the ashen woman is against. she perceives such a motive as weakness. but, Neèra has no intentions of taking what she wants before the ring. she had already garnered her pound of flesh from the flailing livestock and with it taken her place amongst their waters. much like she had declared after their battle. Neèra would not leave so easily, and as far as she had been concerned; had earned her rights of passage before their wasteland. she is the serpent who infiltrated eves garden once more - morphing unto a scaley being of ill intentions and destruction. as her frame slithers amongst the ground to pull next to @Patchouli with a sinful purr. Neèra cradles her wounds close - hopping unevenly amongst the sinking mud to wield her place before her enemy.

little thought is given unto the male that stares absentmindedly like a preconditioned dog. vagrant and disobedient - held back with the slightest tug of chain collars and yet loosened up just enough to attack when time is given. he is a slave to the wares of what they have him here for. how pitiful. i did not know this place was the spawn of so many.....ravishing creatures. she is nothing more than a goading snake, beckoning them with flattery and testing them within their worthiness to be of her time. Erna had proven what she had been worth to her only days before. now it was their turn. who would make themselves known in the presence of satan's boring gaze? impress me, mon cheri - she taunts from the sidelines with a grim and sinister smile. knowingly pulling underneath the rike woman's skin. it is the thrill of the chase that drowns her in lust and selfish greed.

<sub>+5 Attend a spar or challenge to assess the wounds.

keeping vague.
set after devil's backbone.</sub>

Bard: +5 Attend a challenge +10 Witness an event worthy of making history Interested in seeing how this would turn out she was quick to come and watch the woman take on a rank challenge. Eyes of blue curious and wishful landed on the Rike with interest. Her own bobbed tail up like a deer's, pointy ears moving with the sounds in the surroundings, keeping part of her attention away from the actual event, but it was an issue she had to accept and she even didn't know it was a bad thing. Ignoring the danger it could easily bring if she wasn't careful enough. She smiled when she saw @Ronin. Soon to rush to him and attempt to lay down by his side, feeling comfortable with his presence. "Hi hi!" She greeted him happily before returning her gaze to something that perhaps or not would be an event that coupe change the Mire's history.

ART By Moogle CODE BY Cloudy

and we don’t need saving

We’re hell raising

OOC: would love to give it a go, but not got the reqs :(

It's not a surprise that the chieftain's mate would seek the place beside him. Sláine swayed in to the scene with a slight limp and regret in place of her usual jovial mood, the steel woman would have liked nothing more than to meet the dark female's challenge, if only she could. But she'd not seen anything to bring about a dislike of @Erna and did not hope for the woman's failure against another.
The clanswoman took her seat away from the small gathering crowd, allowing her cool gaze to slip across the less familiar faces, wondering if one of them might take up the challenge. Though it seemed only @Ronin seemed remotely keen.
Sláine's paw stung as it came into contact with the rough floor of the swampland. She winced slightly and lifted it up to examine it. Unfortunately Sláine had been out hunting alone and the young buck she had attempted to take down had made a good attempt at skewering her left forepaw.

code by corvus / image by kim

all at once the storm cloud rolled in, mist parting to reveal a less than pleased monarch. it wasn't that he hadn't expected the challenge -- he could sense his wife's unrest, her need for more -- but he did not know what to think of it. in his homeland he had had one wife that had stood above the rest, but she had been granted no title. no power.

to think of @Erna as his equal was hardly a notion he liked; he will not so easily give her such a position.

so he comes with a frown, gaze sweeping those gathered who had come like leeches drawn to the blood. they are marked by battle most of them, in various stages of healing, and this gives him a thrill of pride he had not expected. concern, too, when his attention slips to the slate coated woman, and to the stranger he knew so little of.

first, though, he addresses @Ronin -- "you have more than earned the right to fight for the spot." a gesture towards erna, who earns the next words -- "if you think you deserve it, then prove it to me."

a sweeping look to @Patchouli and @kinki, then he moved to sit beside @Sláine with a nod towards her paw -- "are you alright?" Even as he asked his attention was on @Neèra, guarded and unsure of what to think of the girl.

(sorry hasty post. leaving neera stuff vague, i have to post in the other thread yet lol)

THE THUNDER OF THE DRUMS

table by sentinel / art

Now this was interesting.

For weeks, Ilarion had lain dormant. Watching, observing, as sensible souls did in a new environment; surrounded by strangers, something that the Rurik was unaccustomed to. He would have to do more than that, though, to really gauge the characters of his pride mates. And so he would seize this opportunity, as there was nothing quite like a bid for leadership to bring everyone out of the woodwork. He knew little of @Erna, truthfully; she seemed to have a close relationship to their new King. Probably a wife. There were others here, too; a man, @Ronin, that he recognized from the pride meeting. He was being invited, by @Alaric, to respond to Erna's challenge. Hm. He moved to sit within earshot of the High Sovereign and a woman that he did not recognize. Attention shifted down to the object of their conversation; @Sláine had sustained a rather savage looking injury, and his lips twisted into a half-smile. "The perils of the hunt, I assume?" He knew a horn-wound anywhere. "Do we have a medic amongst us?" It seemed a fair enough query, and one that he should like to know the answer to sooner rather than later.

ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY DEE

WIDE AWAKE IN THIS VIOLET CITY Yet another call rings through the cypresses, disturbing the cranes into flight, and vibrating in Nusura’s ears with the same frequency as the bees and other insects that ride the air. She answers slowly, casually, allowing the heat to contrast as it settles over her back but fails to penetrate the cool water around her legs and up to her chest. Once she sees the ghostly impressions of a group, she slows, her unseeing eyes sweeping over them with little interest. She can hear who is there, those she knows. The violent woman at the helm of the pride’s militant tastes was the one issuing the challenge. It seemed to ring with a note of victory, already. As though even unfurling this challenge was like a sweet revelry for Erna. Nusura is tense as she pulls herself out of the water, webbed feet dripping from the long tufts of fur that line her legs and stomach. She finds a tree away from the group and leans against it as she had done the last time a sizable group of pride members had gathered. She would be there to assess wounds, to tend to them. Idly she hears someone ask about a medic, and his is a voice she has yet to hear, and her throat flexes as she answers loud enough for him to hear. "Here." She says, simply. She wonders at which shape is Patchouli, the only other medic she is aware of so far. Although a certain tension is clear in her deportment, it was like a sort of empathy. The tension swirled around them all. From Alaric, from Ronin, and certainly from Erna. She was a mirror of their storms. It was becoming more and more clear that Ecrosia was a certain...tense place. One could say a toxic work environment. Not unlike where she had come from. Amazing how one always finds their past in their future. She also hears the rogue woman whose leg Erna had shattered. Still goading the bear woman on, still speaking more than she should. Nusura could only shake her head. Did not anyone have a sense of subtlety anymore? She inhaled the warm air, the hot scent of other bodies, and allowed herself to absorb it all with a composure despite how she couldn’t shake the feeling of tearing into pandora’s box.

"speech."

Others would gather, but all would step to the side, leaving him facing opposite Erna. Kinki would come up next to him and he would briefly turn his attention away from the bearish woman to brush his muzzle against the top of her skull in a rare show of affection. Gaze would flicker to Slaine, before he would nudge Kinki towards her. “Stay with Slaine.” A quiet rumble, she would be safe with the warrior woman until the fight was over. He was confident that she wouldn’t let anyone hurt the cub accidentally.

When Alaric would come upon the group he would turn his focus once more to Erna. The King giving him the only encouragement he needed to begin the fight. Ronin would skirt around the cub (if she hadn’t already moved) and would prowl forward approaching from Erna’s forward right. She had beaten him once but he did not plan on letting it happen again. Once he was closer he would lurch forward, instead of reaching for her neck or face, he would aim his jaw lower s at her chest and right shoulder in an attempt at digging his teeth in and holding the grip. Left paw (the one away from her mouth) would come up in an attempt to grab and dig claws into her back between the shoulder blades.


Ronin vs. @Erna
Ecrosia Sovereign
Round 1 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 2 + 18 + 20 + 9 + 11 + 5

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 6 + 12 + 1 + 13

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 10 + 9 + 1 + 4 + 8

code by corvus