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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    ARMY TRAINING (all welcome)
    #1
    for starters, list any and all experience you have as a fighter. this includes battles fought and won in mocks/challenges as well as any 'behind the scenes' training you might have (i.e. your horse was raised as a gladiator even though they might have just joined BQ, etc), and the area you could improve most in regarding challenges

    examples for Errant
    completed two mock battles
    completed and won seven challenges
    has been training his whole life, learned from his father and from watching others fight in the challenge grounds, occasionally mocks with himself through *~*magic*~*
    area of improvement: should probably practice relying less on magic in battles
    [Image: leaanderrant_zpsqa4goyjv.gif]
    #2
    Brennen

    I don't actually know how many mocks he's done because I don't keep track
    won at least 2 challenges, lost at least 1
    was a Gladiator contest finalist (won two battles, default won the 3rd)
    was an Alliance contestant in 2012 (made it to round 3)
    fought against the Valley/Elite in that war
    spends a lot of time training the Tundra's Army on and off

    area of improvement: fighting without wings/being less arrogant about it
    #3
    using *~*magic*~*, Errant places you in the following situation:

    you are in a swamp, at dusk, with low hanging branches and vines everywhere, making it impossible to fly.

    There is no marked path, and the only way forward is through water up to your chest.

    Crocodile are aplenty here, and two have their eye on you. The first is three feet long, but the second is nearly eight feet from nose to tail.

    survive.


    [you are in no true danger, but everything will feel real. keep your response 400 words or less]
    [Image: leaanderrant_zpsqa4goyjv.gif]
    #4
    One moment he’s standing in a gathering of warriors around a strange stallion that yet brings a feeling of déjà vu to the once-general: he swears he doesn’t know the bay stallion but yet he is familiar. It irks him, leaving him distracted though he spouts the requested information with no shame – yes he’s been lax of late (who hasn’t?) but he is still the renowned warrior that he always was. His other life responsibilities have not dulled his skills. And then, suddenly, he is no longer standing in the Tundra but in tepid, disgusting water.

    He thinks in mild annoyance how much he dislikes magic, but he can’t waste time wondering whether it is the Tundra’s magic or the stranger’s because he is sure neither have dumped him in a pleasant land of rainbows and babies. His wings will be useless here but still he mantles them, lifting them from the water where they would drag and be a nuisance; at the same time he spots the crocodiles in the murky water, already starting to edge towards him, no more than their eyes and the ridges of their backs above the surface of the swamp.

    His wings are useless here, as is his ice, but he has fought without both before, as annoying as it is. Instead he summons a strong wind from behind him, miserably strong, and focused through magic to blow in such a concentrated area as to mostly part the waters before him, making him a path that is fetlock-deep instead of miserably chest-deep. The mud beneath is still sticky and impeding but less so than such an expanse of water, and so Brennen responds also to the push of the wind and moves forward himself, stepping lightly and keeping a wary eye on the scaly predators. Best case scenario, they are uncomfortable with his magics and they leave, but if not he is light on his feet and ready to charge forward in a flurry of hooves and hope to push past them.
    #5
    Well done.

    Your next task is a mock battle against yourself.

    You must utilize at least 1 attack and 1 counter attack.

    No word min/max.

    Upon completing this task you should challenge another horse of your approximate age/skill level – friendly only.

    Good Luck.


    (i could have sworn i posted this like, days ago, but i am obviously crazy DSmile
    [Image: leaanderrant_zpsqa4goyjv.gif]
    #6
    Zerachiel

    I actually just got him off Play Me Please, I know he used to be a part of the tundra but I have no idea where his experience is.
    so I'm just going to go with no experience but life experience.

    Area of improvement: attacks
    #7
    Zerachiel:

    using *~*magic*~*, Errant places you in the following situation:

    You are in an unfamiliar meadow, with a handful of strange mares around you. You can hear hoofbeats coming toward you and turn to see a large white stallion with elephant tusks come charging toward you.

    He is feral and incapable of speech, but thinks you are here to take away his herd. He ill kill you before he lets that happen.

    Survive.


    [you are in no true danger, but everything will feel real. keep your response 400 words or less]
    [Image: leaanderrant_zpsqa4goyjv.gif]
    #8
    OOC  - I decided to refer to them as Kratos and Kratos II because its obvs easier. Kratos isn’t fighting with his trait but Kratos II is because I think its funzies. Also, not my best effort but I have tons of posts

    ARMY TRAINING II:

    There is no true summer in the Tundra, the wind still bit at your skin and the ground still threatened to spill you to your knees if you weren’t sure about your steps. So Kratos is careful with his footing when he comes to the crude mocking arena Errant has erected. 



    It was alluring to look upon your adversary and see yourself as you had never before – through the eyes of your opponent. He eyes up his doppelganger (which allows his opponent to do the same) before he begins to make his way at a steady trot, approaching him when he feels the sun is hot on his spine. Kratos is impressed with himself when he looks upon his mirror image, to say the least (which would do nothing for his already big head anyways). He was huge and imposing, like his father and blessed with the wild coloration of his mother. They are, of course, of equal height and strength – which will make this especially difficult. Kratos keeps his eyes on Kratos II as he comes, watching closely for changes in movement as instinctually, Kratos II won’t stay stationary as he closes the space between them, but that’s okay – he doesn’t expect him to. 


    Kratos doesn’t approach completely head on, he’s angled slightly to the left of Kratos II, approaching his right shoulder. But he doesn’t stop at his shoulder, he continues to move past him until his right hip is parallel with Kratos II’s flank area. Kratos takes a few steps to his left and drops his head, angling his back end before digging his forelegs into the icy ground and then throwing his back hooves as hard as he can into whatever he can connect with. Kratos hopes for the ribs and even though the space between them wouldn’t have allowed him enough force to crack a rib, it would certainly do enough to make his other self mildly winded throughout the rest of the battle.  


    But like previously stated, Kratos doesn’t expect him to stand stationary as he sets up his attack and so perhaps he tries to follow Kratos’ body as he begins to turn to the left, turning his own body with it. That would leave Kratos’ hooves to possibly make contact with a forearm or shoulder. Or perhaps he turns to mirror his own moves, turning his hind end to Kratos’ own. Although this would not be ideal, as Kratos has seen horses get their legs tangled up within each other in this fashion, his hooves could still find purchase in a thigh, or gaskin, depending on the exact angle.


    As soon as his hooves hit the ground he is moving away at a gallop, veering to the right as he bends his shoulder to face himself with waiting eyes.




    Kratos II is as impressed with himself as Kratos had been, they were gaudily painted titans and the illusion of their strength was strong. He sizes his opponent up with calculating eyes and his black lips part to drip lightning to the icy ground beneath them as Kratos comes.


    Horses can and will move to avoid an attack and Kratos II is no different, as Kratos passed him he, too, veers to his left, extending the distance between himself and the flying hooves. And as he moves, lightning is slipping from his lips to envelope his body like armor. And of course Kratos II is not quick enough (the bigger the boulder the harder to roll it) to entirely escape the attack and so he feels the heavy hooves crashing into his right thigh. The force is heavy but he does not stumble, instead he takes the opportunity of Kratos’ hooves crashing into his lightning side to send what would be a formidable, but be in all honestly, quite weak side splash of burning electricity right into his hooves and at least partially up his back legs. Contact with lightning, even on the lightest levels has been known to cause severe thermal burns to parts of the body that come into contact with it. It actually damages that area of the body on a cellular level.  

     

    Kratos II feels the other stallion’s hooves leave his side and he does not send his lightning away after him as he strides away. As soon as he hears the departing hooves, he does the same. Taking a few long-legged steps, he turns to face himself, was that burnt flesh he smelled? 
    #9
    Brother Brennan,

    I have a challenge post up for you in the challenge arena.
    #10
    He comes out of the illusion of the jungle, and back onto familiar ground, looking at himself. Of all of his many opponents over the years, trust Errant to come up with the strangest one. Brennen turns to flick a quick glance back at the black stallion’s familiar face, wondering how much of his magic he really plans to reveal in these Army exercises, but he only has a moment to spare before turning back to not-Brennen.

    He knows himself, of course, his strengths and his weaknesses, but he’s never looked at himself outside of the limitations of a reflection. He has no advantage here – not in speed, not in agility, not in powers. They are the same. His eyes meet the not-Brennen’s, gold to gold, and he wonders at the calculation in them. He hopes that that look is not the one he holds when he is not battling.

    Unsurprisingly, they move at the same time; taking to the sky in a flurry of wings and a rush of wind. They spiral into the blue, paths entwined, evaluating. It is the real Brennen who moves first, angling himself to collide with not-Brennen, teeth bared as he reaches for his opponent’s right wing. He wants to tear feathers – the big ones, pin feathers, could send not-Brennen tumbling out of control. Even as they collide, and he snaps his teeth closed (successful or not), the real Brennen folds his wings and drops away.

    The not-Brennen has pinned his ears and ducked his head towards his chest, taking it out of the line of fire. Even as the real Brennen snaps teeth at his right wing, not-Brennen lashes out at the real Brennen’s exposed head, a feral sound escaping his lips when he feels feathers ripped from his wing, even as he feels his hooves collide with something – not the real Brennen’s head, as that is too far forward, but his withers just before he drops away. Real Brennen is bleeding as he drops, but it’s not serious. Not-Brennen is missing several feathers – but not enough that he can’t compensate with control of the wind itself.





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