"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
I'm not a fan of violence, but Tephra cannot allow itself to fall in such dark times. I'm sorry.
My terms:
If you lose, Island Resort becomes a herdland and you step down as ruler. If you win, your reign continues. If you forfeit, the Resort becomes a herdland and you remain its leader.
This challenge will take place in the jungle of Tephra, as it is my home now.
2 attack posts each with one closing defense post. One attack per post.
Ruinam will go first.
Posts will have a 7 day time limit, down to the minute. One extension is granted to each challenger as needed.
Maleficar is a silver bay Baroque Friesian hybrid, standing at 17.1hh. He has no defects and the nongenetic ability of witchcraft.
Here's a counter to those spankin' terms!
If I lose I will step down and the resort becomes a herdland as you stated.
If I win the Resort becomes independent and I continue to lead it, if I win then Ischia will also be able to freely choose its leader.
Happy with everything else!
Ruinam is a white (base palomino) Camarillo/Gelderlander, he is 16hh has companion animal (Arctic Fox) and no defects
Ruinam had an abundance of time to think about his decision to challenge Malecifar and Vulgaris, though his decision to leave his lavished lifestyle was final, he was ready to fight for what he believed was right and put a start to what he believed would be the beginning to a new hope.
The white stallion quietly leaves the island, his pace placid as he enters the water, his time on the resort making him quite adept at swimming as he crosses the short space of water that separates the Island Resort from Tephran soil.
The white stag stops briefly at the shoreline to think his strategy over, having little to no fighting experience the stallion has to rely on his wits to carry him through the battle and hopefully allow him to emerge victoriously.
The white stallion's arctic fox companion is quick to join him, emerging from the water to stand alongside him, ready to join him in battle despite their current shift in relation to one another.
Ruinam exhales deeply as he watches a few dark clouds block out the sun above him, he knows it had rained not too long ago and hoped that sudden cloud cover did not mean more rain. The clouds move over the sun again creating a sparse shadow that he almost dives into, launching himself into a trot as he makes his way to the Tephran jungle which was the specified place of battle.
The male's muscles still feel tense and his gut churns as he becomes nervous, watching the landscape before him unfold and change, the unfamiliar terrain casting doubts inside of Ruinam as he moves into the jungle.
Ruinam's companion disappears before they enter the jungle, moving off to the side to try to create the advantage of surprise, the fox moves quietly and slowly, watching Ruinam as he enters a clearing in the jungle.
Maleficar quickly comes into view as Ruinam enters the jungle clearing, the thick canopy above them offering a varied array of twisting lights and shadows that slightly distort the moist terrain, making Ruinam wary of the unfamiliar landscape.
The white stallion offers no communion as he drives himself into a heavy trot, his legs trailing on the earth below as he tries to get a feeling of the landscape, tripping a few times as he begins to circle Maleficar.
The stallion's head hangs low, almost trying to snake Maleficar as he circles him, his ears hanging low and his head lowered slightly to the left as his crimson red eyes bore into the other male.
The white stallion keeps his movements languid, stretching his body as he prepares to fight the other stallion, almost as if warming up and preparing himself mentally for the battle.
The scene slowly begins to unfold, the sound of cawing birds and crickets illuminating the scene, Ruinam is just about to halt when suddenly a group of birds escape the canopy behind Maleficar, a small white fox bounding toward the male, unannounced and uncalled-for, though Ruinam takes the sudden distraction as an advantage, launching himself into a heavy canter that quickly extends into a short gallop, his legs clenching to the wet soil below him as he tries to gain as much momentum as he can, his movements suddenly animated with energy as adrenaline pumps through him.
Though Ruinam does not calculate his attack, basing it on a mere distraction, he has to think quickly as the distance between him and Maleficar closes, opening his jaws and launching himself at the male's shoulder, hoping to clench onto or tear a bicep as his back legs propel him forward. He hopes that this will impair Maleficar's movements in the future, hopefully giving Ruinam more time to think about his attacks
His jaws aim at anything that he can find around his shoulder while his companion runs wild beside him.
The male slides on the moist soil below them slightly as he retracts from his attack, moving back into a steady circle, his movements once again becoming languid and sluggish.
His concentration remains on Maleficar, his stare intense as he moves forward to a walk.
He takes notice of the moist soil this time, having missed it when first appearing on the scene, he knows he will have to be careful if he wants to avoid slipping on the jungle floor.
He has always enjoyed the quiet solitude of the jungle. Some days, when he sits still long enough, the birds even use him as a perch and preen themselves along his back. Part of him hopes Ruinam does not come for their fight so that he might get them to come land on him again. A faint smile crosses his face as he watches the vines swaying in the breeze or the last droplets of rain dripping down slick jungle leaves. In this moment, he is free of their arguing and their violence.
Free, at least, until he hears the Resort leader drawing closer and his pace quickening.
He lets out a slow sigh and watches him as he circles, presumably his left shoulder exposed to the witch as he trips and trots along. The jungle trees occasionally break their line of sight but his circle varies very little as he moves along, perhaps twenty feet away. Maleficar knows he is too heavy to move gracefully in this jungle after a good rain. The leaves and mud are too slick and the tree roots are too eager to snag on his hooves when he runs. And besides, he’s almost certainly the slower between the two of them.
But while Ruinam prefers to remain silent as he prepares himself, the witch prefers to lighten the mood. The thick tension in the air, coupled with the humidity of the jungle, are too uncomfortable for him to simply tolerate. “I really wish we had met under better circumstances. I quite like the islands,” he says, his tone gentle and quiet just before the birds he had been trying to lure closer all burst from their perches. He turns his ink black head curiously and watches the small fox pounce from its hiding place, tiny teeth bared. Even though they eat his favorite animals, he rather likes foxes, he thinks.
Now is not the time to let his daydreams come drifting in, he reminds himself quickly, and turns his head back to watch Ruinam come charging at him. He’s already only ten feet away, at perhaps twenty degrees from Maleficar so he can land a proper attack on his left shoulder.
“Foxglove, hemlock, stinging nettle. I have got a score to settle,” he mutters just seconds before the white stallion’s teeth collide with him. But his spell is quick and his blood carries the toxic properties of the plants he has named. The momentum built up from Ruinam’s charge sends the black witch stumbling back and wincing visibly as his bite sinks into the left shoulder. Once the poisonous blood is drawn and Ruinam releases his grip on the witch's skin, Maleficar is quick to stumble back and watch, though his steps with that left foreleg are ginger and place little weight on the limb.
“I didn’t think you would draw enough blood for it to kill you, but I will heal you once we’re done. I’m so sorry,” he offers, watching Ruinam closely with those dark red eyes framed with concern. Perhaps the stinging nettle was too much, he thinks with a visible frown across his lips. He glances at his shoulder as the blood gathers at the wound and seeps slowly down his shoulder. He curses himself for such a panicked move but what’s done is done, he supposes.
Maleficar swallows hard and lifts his chin once more to watch as the pale stallion resumes his circle at a walk this time. But he seems to remain closer now, circling at perhaps only ten feet while the tall witch remains in his place. His ears perk forward as he listens for any sign that the poison has grown to be too much for his opponent while his heart hammers nervously against his ribs.
Ruinam has managed to successfully land a blow to his challenger, injuring his shoulder and hopefully slightly impairing his movement. With the bitter taste of blood in his mouth, Ruinam's expression turns sour, a stinging sensation entering his mouth as he circles his opponent at a sedated walk.
The stallion waits for an attack to come his way, though as the adrenaline is drained from his body and his body heats up, he realizes that Maleficar has already made his move, grasping that his own attack had perhaps been a little too rash.
“Do challenges usually involve this much chatter?” he says, shaking his head as he spits out the blood in his mouth, the muscles in his shoulders suddenly shaking slightly as he moves forward to a trot once more.
As he moves he can feel himself weaken, an unnatural feeling suddenly weighing the male down as he heaves a cough, staring at the other male with a hint of worry in his eyes. Ruinam halts, his legs sliding uncontrollably on the moist ground, feeling his eyes and cheeks rise in temperature as they begin to swell, his head shaking slightly as he tries to get rid of the feeling.
The stallion's head suddenly becomes quite clouds, moments of pain coming and going as he moves around in confusion, his body swaying in time to the breeze, his stomach body groaning as it tries to fight back the toxins that attack his nervous system, trying to prevent his muscles from shutting down and his heart beating too fast.
The white male tries to regain his posture as he looks toward the other stallion "You are quite talented, why even bother following someone like Vulgaris?" he asks, his curiosity peaked in the heat of the battle, deciding that perhaps parlance was all he needed.
Though before Maleficar can even reply the white stallion rushes forward into the circle again, panting heavily this time as his breath becomes raspy and fast, feeling his heart rate increase rapidly as he moves "Let's get this over with, shall we?" he says, breaking from the circle and rushing toward the silver bay male.
As he hastes toward the male, he can feel his muscles shake and strain more than they had before, his vision becoming blurry as he aims for the stallion, the terrain below him is shaded by the canopy above them, hiding the roots that stick out through the moist soil.
As Ruinam rushes forward he can feel his left shoulder tense up and freeze, forcing him into a slide, the roots in front of him entangling his legs and tripping him over, sending him crashing toward Maleficar as he shrieks in pain.
As he falls he can feel his muscles vibrate, his body becoming a mess as various toxins work away at him, creating a mass of confusion in his head.
The stallion feels that only luck can save him now, he would have to be fortunate to have managed to land any form of a blow as he fell, feeling that now he was truly at disadvantage.
Maleficar leans his head forward, eyes wide and nervous as he observes the expression sour across Ruinam’s face once the nettle venom sets in. The tall witch steps gingerly forward, still uneager to take a broad stride with his injured shoulder or place much weight on it. The muscle isn’t shredded, of course, but the pain is enough to deter him all the same. He continues to follow his opponent’s circling, sidestepping with his forelegs in awkward hopping steps so his weight rests mostly on his hindlegs as he pivots. Overall, he remains in roughly the same place.
“I suppose not. Would you prefer I remain quiet, then?” he asks, head lifted high as he tries to keep his line of sight on Ruinam even with the trees occasionally blocking his view. His tone is sincere, though a bit embarrassed. Was he really being overly chatty? But again, he’s letting his mind wander rather than focusing on the task at hand. Maleficar hesitates, shying backward with little shuffling steps and his ears perked forward as the white stallion’s muscles begin to tremble. His tail flicks nervously. Perhaps it had been too much poison after all?
“Oh, I don’t follow Vulgaris, really. The people of Tephra are kind and good. I want to protect them,” he explains, still watching Ruinam closely. Maleficar spooks a bit as his opponent begins another charge despite his state, causing him to half-rear a bit in surprise. The wound at his shoulder burns in protest and he winces visibly, regretting the poor choice. The muscle group this motion relied on used exactly the ones he had been babying only seconds ago, he realizes much too late.
With only that ten feet between them, however, the witch has little time to react. His front hooves land on the jungle floor and he has only enough time to turn his right shoulder to take the brunt of Ruinam’s weight as it tumbles into him. Mal is knocked into the mud and detritus, one of his ribs on his left side managing to find a root protruding from the ground. With his great weight, it is not broken but almost certainly bruised, he realizes when he inhales sharply at the pain. His hips only ache a little in comparison while the wound in his shoulder burns anew, thanks to the mud rubbed into it.
Now, still crumpled into the mud with Ruinam just before him, he pulls back his right hindleg and gives a sharp kick. He can’t lift his head enough to properly see his opponent so he’s not entirely sure where the blow might land, if at all. Maleficar almost hopes to give him a good hit to the rib so they can wheeze together for a moment. The witch takes as deep a breath as he can, given his tender rib, and rolls onto his belly. His body aches in protest but he plants his forelegs and then hoists himself up, grunting as his shoulder reminds him of its woes.
“Sunshine, roses, a bit of mud… I don’t know, just clean his blood,” he mutters, tossing his head in Ruinam’s direction as he begins to step only a few feet away from him. Each step has become more of a hop, with his right foreleg somewhat dragging rather than holding much weight at all, but he manages to keep his head high just the same. The initial pain of his rib has subsided to a dull ache, allowing him to breathe mostly normally at least.
Per the rules (see below) challenges are a minimum of 3 attack posts. This is an incomplete challenge and can't be judged until completed. Let us know if you have any questions.
Rules: Challenges are a minimum of 3 attacking posts each, and can be more if set by the challenger. Each horse must also post a defense to each attack, meaning there must be a closing defense post (i.e. there will be at least 7 posts in a full challenge. 1) Horse A attack 1; 2) Horse B defense and attack 1; 3) Horse A defense and attack 2; 4) Horse B defense and attack 2; 5) Horse A defense and attack 3; 6) 2) Horse B defense and attack 3; 7) Horse A defense.)
