08-24-2015, 05:41 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-31-2015, 09:13 AM by Kyra.)
Agreed over pm that Gryffen can use the shadow raven given to him by Straia. Also Sarah, how many posts are we doing? And because I'm easily confused (haha) you said max 2 attacks per post right? I assumed that I had to do 2 attacks so attack one is the rear and attack two is the bite.
Gryffen
Age 5-6
Abstang Hybrid
Height is 14.3
Cremello Stallion w/ red eyes
No traits but Straia has given him a shadow raven that he can command.
GRYFFEN
Once again he is back, the sound of his hooves muffled by the red clay of the challenge lands. He can see the man in the distance, waiting for him. Once again, his opponent outweighs him and has this pesky little trait that would make the fight ten times more difficult for the Chamber wraith. The smaller white stallion has only his wits, his quickness, and the small shadow raven that clings to his shoulder with it’s sharp talons. He would have to thank Straia again for the gift she had given him. The raven wasn’t much but it was something that might help him in a dire situation regarding this fight. Crimson eyes easily find the other and he sets off in a gallop towards him. There’s no time like the present, no point in dawdling around.
The wind blows through his mane, whipping it around his face in a frenzy. The right side of his butt is still sore from the last battle, a bite mark along his crest still evident from Kreios’s rage as well. Not sore enough to back away from this fight. The raven’s wings extend as he moves, balancing itself with his gait. They both are wary of this challenger and his ice manipulations. The albino stallion had little fear of anything especially water having never had a bad encounter with the element. It was doubtful that his lack of fear was going to protect him from whatever Belgarath threw at him though. He was only mortal after all.
As he closes the ground between them, popping out of the darkness as he is prone to do and coming from behind in an effort of some stealth, he notices that while Belgarath is still very large he’s not quite as large as his last opponent and there’s some relief in that. He would have to use his agility and hardiness to his advantage but at least he didn’t have to worry about being completely crushed by the other like he felt with Kreios. When he doesn’t have much more ground to cover, he speeds up his movement and gets ready to attack. The raven takes flight as he comes at a 35 degree angle towards the left side of Bel’s barrel. It is doubtful at this point that he hadn’t heard him coming. More than likely Belgarath is in some stage of movement and not a sitting duck so he must try to carry out his attack as quickly as possible.
Weight is thrown back and balance shifts as he rockets towards the sky, forelegs brought out and hooves seeking to collide with the lower part of the stallions barrel or hip area. He seeks to bruise his ribs or even crack them if he can throw enough power into his punch or bruising the intercostal muscles that helped him draw breath. What is more expected is that Belgarath has moved or is in an attempt to defend or counterattack. If the stallion has moved backwards and due to Gryffen’s current state of height, he might land a blow closer behind the shoulder which could cause bruising or other damage to the latissimus dorsal muscle which is a major muscle when it comes to how the front leg moves. When the leg is off the ground it flexes the shoulder joint and lifts the leg and when it’s on the ground with weight on it, it moves a horses’s body forward relative to the leg. It could play a major role in the outcome of this battle if it was injured appropriately. Now Bel could have moved forward and that leaves his hindquarters available for his blow. Or something entirely different could happen. You never know.
Starting to descend, the raven swoops behind Belgarath’s head in an effort of distraction. As it does this, the snow white stallion’s teeth snap towards the other’s body. Depending again on what Belgarath did in response of his rear, his teeth might seek either the neck or his ribcage area. Either way he’s looking to close in on flesh. It’s not much of an attack but if he can cause some sort of damage, more than likely superficial wounds, that would throw the other off his game then it would be worth it.
As soon as his hooves have hit the ground, spitting red dust and clay in response, he wheels slightly away from the stallion and coils up as if ready to strike. The raven glides loosely above them, ready to obey the ghost’s command.
The Chamber Ghost / Big Bad Wolf
I need an extension. My personal life is shit right now. Just till tomorrow. If that's not ok, and I totally understand, given how Bel is such an asshole, I'll forfeit.
Life isn’t fair, and Belgarath doesn’t care that Gryffen is mightily displeased with him. He has size (which can be, but isn’t always an advantage) and a trait (almost always an advantage) on his side, and the stallion fully intends to use them. Bel sees what he wants, and then he finds a way to take it, with as little effort as possible. The day is cold and blustery, bare branches on sleeping trees are whipping back and forth by an icy, jagged wind. It reminds him of the gales that used to come screeching through the nooks and crannies of Mourning Mountain. The ground is already cold and hard (which makes things easier for him), but there is no snow. He is comfortable in this weather. The cold can no longer send chills up his spine; it is a part of him, so much so that his eyes turned a pale shade of blue once he acquired the trait. It’s just the two of them in the empty battlegrounds, which makes his opponent easy to identify - white and wiry, but smaller. Belgarath is the polar bear and Gryffen is the wolf.
What he isn’t expecting is the bird. He eyes it curiously, as it seems to be simultaneously corporeal and fluid. Interesting...
They start with a great deal of distance between them, and since Gryffen has the first attack, Bel waits for him to move first. The white stallion leaps forward, so Belgarath takes that as his cue, the two of them closing ground quickly by heading straight for each other. He sees the raven take flight, and grumbles deep in his throat, displeased at now having to watch two things, instead of one. Distraction can be a powerful tool. As a dissuader, he shoots a line of ice shards towards the bird, aiming it simply where he thinks it might be in a second or so. Given the raven’s maneuverability, he’s probably off. But who wants to fly at something while having to dodge razor sharp ice shards?
The truth is that he could fight Gryffen whilst standing still, safely out of harm’s way of flailing hooves and snatching teeth - but where’s the fun in that? He’ll go a little easier on the guy, given that his opponent doesn’t have any traits, but that doesn’t mean he won’t play to win. Bel’s adrenaline begins to course, and his heart pounds more heavily in his dappled chest as he moves to a quick canter. When they draw closer to each other, within about fifteen feet, Bel suddenly swerves 90 degrees to the left, throwing up a layer of ice in his wake. It coats the ground in a wide translucent swath, which Gryffen may or may not notice. If the Chamberling is following Bel’s movements closely in order to attack, he might find himself slipping all over the place, especially if he is shifting his weight to try and rear upon his hind legs, which would make him rather unstable.
Bel isn’t trying to kill the guy, just knock him off balance, and hopefully off his feet. Or make him cower in fear, because the ice itself is a demonic force (not the vessel that holds it, though it may seem like it at times). Bel’s never been in the clutches of such fear himself, but even if the victim doesn’t have fear about water or winter, he thinks it can manifest them anyway. In addition, were Gryffen to slip and fall, the ice would probably give him some nasty frostbite and burn like the agonizing depths of hell. A fall might fracture or break a rib or two as well, which would just be bad news bears all around. Trouble breathing, pain, etc. Not a good thing to happen during a fight.
The raven comes out of nowhere again, and swoops at Belgarath’s head. He snorts and swings his head to the right, but not quickly enough to avoid a sharp pain in between his ears from the bird’s talons as it rakes across the top of his head. His whole body follows his turning head, as Bel is once again facing his original direction. There is an L-shaped break in the ice sheet, where the raven successfully distracted Bel - but hey, at least it wasn’t an eye or an ear. Slowing from a canter to a quick trot, Bel collects himself and turns 180 degrees in as tight a circle as he can manage.
He assumes that the wide strip of ice has kept Gryffen busy, but as Bel cannot see behind his head, he needs to get turned back around to see what’s going on. If Gryffen is on his tail again (the white stallion did have the advantage of agility and quick bursts of speed), or coming right up in Bel’s face in a frontal attack, the dappled destrier is not unprepared. He inhales, taking as much breath into his lungs as possible, and then exhales a mind-numbingly cold cloud towards Gryffen’s figure, harnessing the power of demon ice with his breath. It radiates outward, protecting Bel from an immediate frontal attack. The wind whips up behind him, carrying the freezing bit of air away from Bel, and after a moment, Belgarath moves into motion again, lunging to his left and using his powerful hindquarters to propel him into a canter once more. The challenge grounds are empty, so he decides to lead Gryffen on a merry little chase.
The fellow might need to warm up again, anyway. Bel is really just doing him a favor.
belgarath 
eek, yes, sorry! max 2 attacks. and let's say 2 posts each? and you can obviously have an extension if you need it! again, let me know if this slight tardiness isn't ok.
Perhaps in another life, Gryffen and Belgarath could have been something close to friends. They both had quite like-minded personalities and approaches towards life. Doing as little as possible to get what they wanted. However the moment Belgarath tried to take what he had rightfully acquired with little effort, any chance of that was gone. Fuck that guy.
Even though he had made his approach from behind, somehow Belgarath is heading towards him face to face. This is quite surprising and he’s not quite sure how that has happened. Sharp shards of ice fly at the raven in the sky but it isn’t a normal bird and easily avoids the blast, sprinkles of ice that hit it’s undercarriage melting quickly, moving up higher into the current. It had no intent of attack at the time, simply observing until it’s time had been called. Gryffen had been coming up on Bel’s left barrel from behind but now he had apparently been coming at it from the front. Then Bel swerves to his left as well which means he would be coming closer to him… So be it. Gryffen follows through with his first attack but suddenly his traction becomes slippery. There is ice beneath his hooves and he isn’t sure if his first attack even lands anywhere nor his second attack of the bite, unaware that his raven friend had managed to cause Bel some hurt with his distraction. He had not ordered the bird to attack, merely to distract, but one must be happy with what they can get I suppose.
Back to the ice, his back legs slip on it much like that scene of Bambi trying to walk for the first time. His front hooves land again so it seems his first attack didn’t have as much power as he would have liked or even landed at all, this is confusing to him or maybe the demonic trait was at work and befuddling him instead (who knows), and instead of sending up red dust like he thought… He is scrambling for balance. Unfortunately he loses his balance a bit and his right fore knee hits the hard frozen ground, scraping against the burning cold as he grunts with displeasure. Quickly he raises himself again and stands for a moment, exhaling slowly. The scrape of his knee burns and he curses softly under his breath. The raven’s distraction at least provided a break in the ice and while Bel is making his little circle, he scrambles as quickly and ungracefully as he can towards the break and regains normal footing.
With the relief of the hard clay beneath him once more, he is unguarded and doesn’t see the cloud coming in full force at him. All of a sudden his face is numb, struck immobile simply by the sheer coldness of the cloud. His red eyes are able to follow the dappled figure despite the lack of movement to his face and neck as he canters off… Leaving him even more confused then before. Surely Belgarath would have taken advantage of him with this cloud distraction and would have attacked him then instead of the cowardly move of running away. The man’s tactics don’t make sense to him. When the cloud hits he is not overwrought with fears of freezing death. Death does not scare him. He sees death and causes it on a day to day basis. It is uncomfortable though and it takes a moment before he is able to move his head again. He shakes it viciously as if to shake off any residue of the mist that may cling to him and slow him down further.
At least with what has happened, he is able to gain a few minutes to think and breathe. The raven is swirling about his head now and as he watches Belgarath he decides to play along with the stallions game, doing as little as possible himself. Looking up towards the bird, he gives a slight nod and the shadow creature darts off in the direction of the large stallion. Let the bird do the work, it’s not like it could die being made of magic and all. It definitely wouldn’t suffer like he would if he directly attacked the man again. The raven catches the wind and soars high as it closes the distance between it and it’s prey. Gliding easily with the wind beneath it’s wings, it doesn’t drop down till it is almost right above the horse’s hindquarters. Then it drops as quickly as it can. With a few mighty flaps from it’s wings, it goes to the right side of Belgarath and comes up in a half-circle towards Bel’s face once more. The hopes of this was to be as surprising and stealthy as possible, hoping the stallion wouldn’t notice it till it was right on him. This time the raven does go into a full force attack, both it’s sharp beak and talons hoping to maim the ice demon’s right eye. Assuming the horse was in motion, the raven’s wings beat continuously to keep up with the stallion and help support the power behind it’s attack. Beady eyes glare at the beast as an angry kraa is forced from it’s beak. If it was lucky it could have made a direct attack and gouged out the eye completely. Or it could at least cause some pain around the eye, opening up vulnerable skin and making it hard to see from that side. Perhaps causing some scarring in the future. Of course Bel could have a defense already in the works or moved it’s head and avoided the attack completely. Maybe the bird’s pecks found a different target instead. Shadows whirl in the raven’s body, stands weaving through it’s feathers, making it look quite unnatural and perhaps unnerving the large beast. Though it’s doubtful that a creature that manipulates ice can be thrown off by much. The bird does it’s work quickly in a matter of seconds and then flys off over the beast’s head and back towards it’s master. The damage it’s done or hasn’t done is unknown until Bel turns around and Gryffen can see what has happened.
Gryffen
- - - - - The Big Bad Wolf |
Once attack by the bird towards Bel's right eye.
I didn't know if we were doing complete dodges or anything either...
If anyone hears someone coming up behind them, of course they’re going to turn around. Especially if they’re expecting a fight. Gryffen wasn’t really expecting Bel to continue to show him his ass, was he? Actually give him an advantage AND go easy on him? Ahahahahaha. No. Plus with a hard ground, he would hear the stallion coming - there is no grass to muffle Gryffen’s pounding hooves, for all that the wind may whip around them and distort some sound. Belgarath may be lazy in some regards, but he is vigilant when it counts - and so at some point, yes, he turned around to face Gryffen. Like a real soldier would.
There is a reason for the distance between them, a perfectly logical and diabolical reason why Belgarath has decided to ‘run away’ in a cowardly manner. Run away? Oh no, the fun is really going to get started now. Gryffen has found the blank spot in the ice road and with Belgarath heading once again to his original left, they are on an elongating diagonal. As the white stallion clears his head from the demon ice cloud, Bel takes a look over his shoulder at the stationary figure and is surprised to see that his second attack didn’t cause more damage. His face should be stinging with the fury of a hundred ice bees, shouldn’t it? Hmmm. Ok. The next attack wouldn’t be so mild.
He sees that Gryffen isn’t leaving the ice-free area, which means that he will not be chasing Bel, which means that he should probably stop moving away from him. Belgarath puts on the brakes and slows from a canter to a trot, wheeling around in a 180 degree turn to the left, until he is facing Gryffen again. Very well. Let’s make the fellow move. He can do this two ways, and after a moment’s thought, decides to nix the first idea and go with the second.
Trotting slowly back towards Gryffen, Belgarath eyes the bird cautiously. It was able to distract him the first time, and those talons and beak are sharp enough to draw blood. The cuts on the top of his head begin to sting in affirmation. It isn’t enough pain to be distracting, just annoying. It takes the the sky, and so before it can strike first, Belgarath does. Without any warning, several giant, razor-edged spikes of ice rise quickly from the ground under Gryffen and in his immediate vicinity. Ok, the ground might shake a little bit as frozen water splits the ground, but the Chamberling doesn’t know what’s going to happen. One erupts behind the stallion, pointing at a 45 degree angle towards his hindquarters. If Gryffen doesn’t move forward quickly, he might get a painful poke in the ass. Another rises towards his unprotected underbelly, straight up, as if to impale him. It won’t (much). But Gryffen doesn’t know that. Where will he go? Forward or to the side? Two more break the ground and rise at his sides - one on his immediate left (mid barrel area) and one on at the base of his right front leg. Bel is about to direct them where to go and at what angle when the raven he kinda sorta forgot about flies into his line of vision. They remain aimed towards Gryffen, at stifle height.
Fuck! Belgarath closes his eyes and yanks his head away from the bird when he feels a stabbing pain on the brow bone above it. He coats his head in a thin layer of the demonic ice, relying on the fact that because it is a part of him, it can’t hurt him. If the raven were real, the ice would probably seriously hurt the creature, maybe even more so than it would a horse. But as it isn’t, neither the agonizing cold of the ice nor its fear inducing qualities may affect it. It just bides Bel time to protect himself and open his eyes again. There is a scratch above his eye, but nothing too terrible. After growling in displeasure, Belgarath swings his head back to where it originally was, and gets pissed. His jaws snap after the constantly moving creature, just dying to get one of its fake tail feathers in his mouth. Of course that wouldn’t do anything. But still. The urge is there.
When the bird flies off and returns to its master, Belgrath reaches down into the earth, farther than the ice spikes and farther than the demon breath. He reaches and then he pulls - hard - breaking a sweat. Of course, he is very vulnerable at this point, being still and unprotected and concentrating on something else, but what he intends to bring back (and show off) will be worth it. Don’t mess with Belgarath. Finally, with a bellow and a half-rear on to his hind legs, three light light blue little creatures appear. They have a humanoid form with two arms and two legs and a head, but are short and squat and cackle with a mischievous laughter.
Oh yeah. Belgarath has raised Ice Imps.
And they bound towards Gryffen, fully intent on either riding him, pulling his mane and tail, and climbing up him to sit on his head. If he stands still, he’s a sitting duck, and if he moves, then great! They love chasing after their victims.
Who says Belgarath doesn’t have a sense of humor?
belgarath
Winner: Gryffen
Overall his attacks were clearer in both intent of the attack and positioning of the horses
|
