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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


    [private]  Nothing burns like the cold - Skel - mock
    #1
    As proposed here, a mock battle.
    https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=27048&pid=104937#pid104937

    Stats:
    Leilan
    16.3 hh
    Draft-baroque-warlander type build
    Ice scales (aesthetic), glowing tattoos, immortality, darkness aura, ice dragon shifting



    It’s been some time since he last had any sort of battle, or even battle practice, even if some movements and muscle memory never truly fade. With that in mind, @[Skeleton Ghoul]’s announcement had been a welcome change of pace - especially now with the young @[Alcinder] in tow, he felt like this would be a great opportunity. He’d once ignored the call of a far too young stallion, but the pointy-toothed Percheron hybrid would be an actual challenge. For this one, he would show up, he had decided, and told Oceane and Castile’s kid that he could watch if he liked so they could go over tactics later, or stay at home if he’d rather, and other forms of battle practice should be discussed later. It’s not Leilan’s responsibility to have him show up; only to offer him opportunities of learning.

    The weather is pressing and humid in Taiga this time of year, but the ground is dry. Not dusty, thankfully, as the undergrowth and grasses keep the soil together as much as the red trees do themselves. The scaled roan finds the sea-mist has potential use, but it is unpredictable and could possibly create deceptive images when moving around; his eyes adjust with heat vision for a moment before he blinks it away - an advantage over the overly-large stallion, if he could use it fast enough. Had Leilan been traitless, he would never have taken on this male, but rather avoided a direct confrontation. However, his shifting ability, a combined upgrade from traits he’s had before, more than makes up for the lack of knowledge of the terrain - if he doesn’t trip over a tree root. If he doesn’t fully shift - the dragon shape would be larger than the horse, true, but it would be too confining beneath the canopy.

    The other male is huge, for a horse, and broad, a hybrid draft on draft. Leilan is smaller and slightly leaner, which in this environment might not be bad after all. He takes note of the man’s teeth and licks his tongue past his own; they’ve changed long before he noticed it, as usual. Most of all, the silver roan wants to test his shifting abilities in battle - find out the level of his control and put it to the test.

    He finds the large male waiting in a clearing, and the roan scrapes a hoof through the soil to test its consistency; deciding not to make use of claws for now, as his legs are sturdy enough and more familiar to the ice-attuned male. His vision finds the other’s position easily through the mist, but Leilan is in no hurry to make his first move; he is prancing in place to warm up his muscles first, and hardens his scales consciously to the dragon-type that he knows from when he’s shifted. Only then does he start a slow trot towards the other, and advances with building-up speed. He remembers his earlier battle with Jesper, and pulls up his Aura trait; back then it had been Ice, but the freezing cold is now his offense instead of defense. No, his current Aura trait is one of Darkness, and it is with these black shadows that he approaches, masking most of his movement. Some would fear the look of an inky spot charging them, but Leilan expects little of it today - his challenger hadn’t seemed the nervous type. The aura still makes him harder to see, his movements harder to spot, and especially, the focus of his eye can’t be judged - and that’s the most important part for now.

    He closes in and swerves to his own right side, his opponent’s left flank - he hopes for the other to move forward as well, otherwise he’d come dangerously close to the tree line. If Skel stays put or moves in a somewhat straight line forward, Leilan will swerve a little further to the right, away from the man. He plans to attack with one other trick that has never failed him before - his icy breath, which would deal damage in the way of frost burn if it hits full on, possibly even causing blisters on the man’s skin if he hits him too close. But this is a mock battle, and he puts some distance between himself and the Taigan before he attempts his hit. Most of all the cold, even if he misses his target on the middle of the man’s side, would hopefully cool down the muscle and slow the other down. If it’s really bad, it might cause cramps, too, but Leilan doesn’t stay still long enough to find out.

    The roan finds himself close to the trees, and has to continue to swerve away from the larger stallion in order to avoid both a possible counter, as well as a clash with the redwoods hidden in the thick mist. He increases speed by a little to get away, even when galloping through the trees, and rounds a large half circle to come back to the clearing. By now, he has dropped the darkness aura, unable to keep it up when combined with the ice attack and his dragon-eye vision: thankfully the large shreds of mist still cloud most of his shiny ice, covering his dragon scales, and the metallic gold in his mane. He is still weary of the summer sun blowing holes in that kind of cover, though, and his pinned ears twitch in an attempt to still catch the sounds. He is tensed, keeping his head close to his body. His opponent knows this forest better than he does, so he keeps an eye out too, switching between heat vision and his normal hawk-eye vision repeatedly in hopes of spotting his mock partner long before he runs into him.
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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    #2
    Finally, someone took him up on his challenge.

    It isn't someone that Skeleton Ghoul is familiar with, but he isn't very worried about it. As a generally antisocial stallion, there will always be far more unknowns than otherwise -- he's been in Taiga for something like two years and he STILL doesn't know everyone. Skel isn't even sure he knows who the leader is. Is it Lethy or Elio? Oh, who cares.

    Maybe one day it will be him. The massive stud won't admit it out loud, but that niggling little thought twitching at the very back of his mind had a significant amount of influence on his decision to start mock fighting. He needs practice, to bang the rust out of his joints and to knock the ice off of his bones if he is ever going to challenge for and take over Tiaga. It isn't that he has anything against whoever is the current leader ... but the fact that it seems to be up in the air so much bothers him. With Skeleton Ghoul at the head, and constantly within the territory borders, who rules the Land of Giants would never be called into question.

    So he goes. There is a clearing, one rare break in the canopy that allows the sun to beam down all the way to the wet, sticky ground. The grass grows here, and the soil is drier than in other places, making a slip not impossible, but less likely. It's a mock, after all. No need to make the environment harder on them than it needs to be, at least not while he's still getting the kinks out. Later on, though, practice fights in horrendous terrain would be a fantastic challenge.

    Skeleton Ghoul isn't a stranger to battle. In his youth, he spent years doing nothing but clashing with fellow warriors in mocks, real challenges, and even tournaments. The thirteen (fourteen? fifteen? does he even know anymore?) year old man easily spent seven of his younger years in constant fights, but that was an age ago, wasn't it?

    He makes it to the clearing after a long, purposeful march, muscles warmed and heart pumping just a little faster. The titan doesn't have to wait long -- his opponent is hot on his heels, and appears out of the fog.

    Skeleton Ghoul's empty white gaze studies the other man. He's a little shorter, a little lighter, which means he will be faster and more agile. Leilan is a roany thing, but he's also covered in fine, shiny scales and what appears to be a bit of frost -- very interesting. Skel has never fought someone with scales before, and he wonders if his teeth will pierce the other's hide. His head hangs low, as though it's too heavy for his neck to support as he simply watches Leilan warm up.

    Then he moves.

    Skeleton Ghoul's heart pounds, adrenaline pouring into his veins, but he doesn't move. He's going to let the other man come to him. What he doesn't expect is the other stallion to suddenly vanish in shadow that couldn't possibly be natural.

    Shit. God damn these magic fairy horses and their weird ass abilities.

    Head lifting in confusion, the draft stud shifts his weight, ears perked and locked on the obscure sight as it trots towards him. He should move, he has to move, but how? He can't tell what the man's plans are or where he's going to try and hit him -- or even what he's going to try to hit him with. The shadow darts to Skel's left, and the titan jerks, swinging his rear towards the shadowed man in preparation for a kick.

    He hesitates, and it costs him. Skeleton Ghoul yowls in surprise as an intense, bitter cold washes over his dock and hindquarters, tucking his pelvis almost comically hard and lurching forward. Swinging around, he listens hard to the sound of hoof beats, and drives himself into a (hitched and semi-awkward due to the cold -- thanks for that) canter. He lacks fancy magic, and knows he's at a disadvantage considering Leilan obviously doesn't, but he's been fighting his entire life using only the gifts that he was born with -- sharp teeth, and some two thousand pounds of rippling muscle.

    Skeleton Ghoul knows this land like the end of his nose -- better even, considering he can't see the end of his nose. He canters a smaller circle, listening to his opponent in the mist, doing his best to track roughly where he is. Finally, he gets close enough, and Skel makes his move.

    The giant stallion bursts out of the mist in front of Leilan, ears pinned and eyes looking back, searching for his position. Slamming on the brakes ahead of the other stud to close the distance, Skeleton Ghoul throws his head down, sending out a mighty kick with both back hooves aimed at Leilan's chest. If he connects it will absolutely hurt, maybe even cause a mild hematoma, but Skel is pulling his punches -- it's practice, and he doesn't want to kick him with everything he has.

    Landing back down, the titan darts hard (as hard as he can) to the right, trotting with an arched neck back into the clearing. He shakes his tangled mane out of his eyes and turns, looking for the other man, waiting for his response.
    [Image: qZyWUwo.png]
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    #3
    It’s safe to say the darkness works, he notices when the huge male searches his moving shadow. A smug smile threatens to lift the corner of his lips, but he needs to remain focused, instead using the energy he gets from the confidence boost to tighten his muscles during the approach, ready to feint, dodge, or quicken his pace when he needs to.

    The mountainous stallion moves only a little at the last moment, which made Leilan’s aim more precise than he would have predicted earlier. Thankfully he didn’t come at the other male with a full-power ice blow, or he would have done more damage than he wanted. Now though, it is only the trees looming in front of him that keep him from a good laugh, and he disappears into the woods for his turn.

    When he comes back to the clearing, the misty tendrils envelope his moving body, and it costs him.

    His position is given away, while the percheron hybrid almost stood still - Leilan spots him when he is close, but he is not quick enough to fully dodge @[Skeleton Ghoul]’s hooves: his previous forward motion does not allow him to scramble backwards - especially not when he knows there may be roots in the floor to hinder him. No, the roan stallion must evade the larger horse’s hoofs in a sideways movement, a split-second decision allowing him to swerve to his left. The hooves provide a formidable force on his right shoulder with the man’s weight behind it, especially considered the fact that he probably wouldn’t have used his full strength - and possibly couldn’t have, with the ice straining his hind muscles.

    His dragon scales falter, with Leilan being unable to keep up the trait consistently due to the pain: his ice scales are cracked and his muscles burn beneath that layer of skin. He’s knocked sideways further, sidestepping to his left. But Skeleton Ghoul can’t disappear into the thick sea mist again, and it’s Leilan’s first response to counterattack with sharp teeth. A low rumble comes from his throat that is not altogether horse-like, and his strong, draft-bred hind legs propel him forward in a burst of adrenalin-fueled energy. Now he attacks without thinking, muscle memories and instincts kicking in that he hasn’t forgotten in his years of lulled life with a wife. His predatory side takes over, yellow eyes and thick scales showing, together with tooth and claw. It is a small miracle in retrospect that he didn’t in fact shift upon that first real pain, upon that moment when everything collapsed and the hunter inside was let free. Perhaps that’s due to the fact he had been a mimicker for so long - scales and eyes and teeth alone were his, and it is a very similar - too similar, perhaps - shape that he now takes. A base dragon shape plastered on his horse-self, only good for close-range attacks like this one.

    He aims for the whole of Skel and also no place on him in particular, hoping to perhaps dig his teeth in the man’s shoulder or back muscle, or rake the sharp ends across a more sensitive spot, on or near the spine if he can. The latter would be less likely, the larger draft being over a hand taller than the roan is.
    In his non-aiming state, there is every chance of Leilan missing most of his target, which might be best for both. His predatory instinct does not allow much room or time for him to think on it; the half-dragon he is now, only knows to bite and scratch. Perhaps he’ll open up some of Skeleton Ghoul’s side, or even a leg since the large male’s hind is closest, but thankfully it isn’t likely for a bite to hold. The claws and teeth would be treacherous weapons, able to cause deeper cut wounds than hooves or horse teeth would. Perhaps if the draconic male has a lucky shot, he might actually tear some of the other male’s muscle, which could cause bigger problems - who knows what it takes for Leilan to let go in this state.

    He does, regardless of his actions, get in a close range to the black and white giant. One might say too close, but in the haze of pain and adrenalin, he doesn’t care. There’s little he cannot do, a part of him knows. The other part, which only starts to scream in his mind after it had overcome it’s shock, desperately tries to keep him from a full shift, keep him from hurting more than he should.

    It is a mock, after all, and he can’t lose himself in the fight now; but he’s dangerously close, and the inner battle might be more of a challenge than the simultaneous outer one. Right now, he’s two-faced, switching between predator and prey too easily.

    He’s not. going. to. eat. the male. He’s not.

    The problem is, however, that Leilan has stopped thinking.


    OOC: I’m only like, 3 weeks late. But it’s practise so I figured we’d want to continue anyway
    Also yes, he’s about losing his shit, is ‘t that marvelous
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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