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  • Beqanna

    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


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    Brennan;
    #1
    Hello brother,

    Errant would have me challenge someone in my age and experience bracket, but where's the fun in that? You're the most seasoned warrior we have so here I am,  ready to be seasoned.

    Name - Kratos
    Age - 6
    Color - Black few spot appaloosa
    Breed - Percheron hybrid
    Height - 17.3
    Traits - Lightning manipulation

    You go first
    4 days in between posts
    Extensions allowed obvs
    Let's keep it simple with 1 post each, 2 attacks per post
    Counter attacks count as attacks
    I'll leave it up to you whether or not we use our traits
    Nothing gained or earned but bragging rights and experience 
    #2
    Traits are more fun. Let's use them.

    Brennen
    Immortal; Age = Mature
    Color: Bay with lots of stuff. See profle.
    Breed: Arabian Hybrid (Arabian x Abstang)
    Height: 15.3
    Traits: Immortal, Winged, Bone-Bending, Ice Manipulation, Wind Manipulation

    I will post ASAP. Won't be before tomorrow, as I have a graduate equine physiology test tomorrow. :|
    #3
    Whatever he expected of his next battle – and to be honest he’s learned to stop expecting and simply go with it when it happens – he is always surprised when it is one of his own. A mock, a training – those are different altogether than dragging oneself to the challenge field and the watchful eyes of Beqanna’s magics. But no matter, he will go; the day dawns bright enough but overcast, and the bite of the air proves autumn is well and truly upon them. His breath fogs before him as he drops from the sky, joining his brother on the field.

    Kratos is quite a bit taller than Brennen, and built like a tank besides. The once-general eyes him with placid contemplation; decades of experience tell him that while he is probably quicker on his feet, his overlarge black wings are ever a burden on the ground. He could – and has, in the past – give them up for the fight and even have them magically vanish for the duration but he is comfortable in the sky in a way that even interminably long hours of practice have not made him on the ground.

    So after nodding to Kratos, solemnly, that is where he goes. Up and into the sky, gathering the wind which serves at his beck and call to swirl fiercely around them and underneath his outstretched wings, lifting him into the gray-blue sky faster than he could have achieved unaided. And the wind serves another purpose – he has done his research and knows well his opponent’s ability to summon lightning from the sky. But as he circles around to come at Kratos from the front, the strong winds that allow him to fly quick and low also buffet dust and dirt and air into the black stallion’s face, hopefully impairing his ability to see Brennen and target a bolt of lightning towards him. If he is lucky – and he often is – Brennen is also hoping the strong-moving winds will also affect the accuracy of such a lightning strike (for surely, lightning must burn up air as it travels and thus must be subject to the whims of the wind as much as anything else).

    With the wind as his distraction and his aid, the pegasus locks into Kratos’ position, endeavoring to keep himself flying directly head-on, and low enough to put his opponent’s head into striking range. And strike he does, as he swoops down, knowing he will have only a few valuable seconds to land a good kick from his forelegs and another few seconds to do the same backwards with his hindlegs before he must pull away and up, circling back upon his summoned winds lest Kratos get a good look at him from behind to summon the lightning. He aims for the eyes foremost with his forelegs and the skull in general with his hindlegs as he passes; a warrior who cannot see (even temporarily) is a sitting duck and he knows from experience how painful and disorienting any type of headwound can be. He has seen death come from such a blow, though of course that is not his intent here with his Brother. For his own part he is wary of the sensation of electricity in the air that might signal a counterattack and also for the possibility that Kratos might rear up, striking back at Brennen’s underside if he dares fly too low or even entangling himself in Brennen’s legs or wings and bringing the pegasus crashing to the ground.

    And once he is past, he must quickly rise up above the wind he has kept blowing towards Krato’s face no matter which way he turns, and instead use his own physical power to wing his way back towards his opponent, flying above his self-propelled wind, considering a second attack. Once now he has descended from the sky to engage Kratos physically, needing to feel the give of flesh beneath his hooves to fuel the adrenaline to battle, but he thinks it foolish to risk a second such close encounter when he has other methods of attack at his disposal.

    This time as he wings round to face Kratos it is not the urgent, quick flight of before to take advantage of any unpreparedness. Surely by now the younger stallion is well and prepared. No, this time it is merely so that he can get the greatest view of his ground-bound opponent, watching any movements the boy might make while Brennen lets his consciousness reach deep into the earth, beneath the soil to where always there dwells ice, beneath where the heat of the surface sun has warmed it. Once upon a time he had to be close to the ice to bring it to him; once upon a time he practiced his ice magic mainly within the Tundra itself. But almost anything is possible if you are willing to pay the price for overreaching later, and he has had to his name so many years of practice.

    When the spears of ice burst from the ground beneath and around Kratos, or at least where he sees Kratos to be unless the other has decided in the last split second to change his observable tactics and gallop off in another direction, it is sudden. Surely his concentration might have given some warning, and often the ground shakes with the effort of expelling such things, and of course there must be some sound, but if Kratos has not seen him do this before (or unless he is exceptionally sensitive to what the movements of the earth mean), Brennen still hopes to take him by surprise and in some way harm him with the jagged edges of ice which have sprung from the ground beneath his feet; they are two and three feet in length and protrude at odd angles, very few straight up but instead slicing sideways and diagonally in every which way (meaning they could strike at legs and the barrel and the neck as well as straight up towards a tender belly).

    It is only after he has succeeded that he realizes he is dangerously close to the ground himself – he is not built for hovering after all but for soaring, and in his intense concentration he has forgotten to keep himself as high as he ought to. With powerful wingbeats he seeks to remedy his error, but the same wind he has been using to distract and annoy Kratos has pushed him in that direction, and if the other Tundra stallion is not now impaled on an ice spear and unable to spring towards the low-flying Brennen, he knows he must prepare to defend himself in close and not-ideal quarters.

    #4
    Using my extension.
    #5
    I'll have this up tomorrow.
    #6
    The battle grounds are dreary and the wind nips at his skin softly, but there isn’t the heavy threat of snow in the air as was constant in the Tundra. The sun hides behind grey clouds here but the ground is compact and covered in loose dirt – footing much more conducive to a battle than sinking sand or slick ice. Kratos is lax as he waits for the battle to begin, taking time to eye up his opponent as Brennan does the same before taking to the sky.

    Kratos is cognizant of the difference in their stature, though this was more of the case than the exception when it came to comparisons to Kratos. Despite his spots there were no mistakes to be had in that his bloodline was strictly influenced by draft and heavy breeds. But he is not disillusioned to think that his sheer size was only a boon and not a hindrance- for while he indeed had strength he lacked in speed and agility.

    Kratos has done his homework as well, he knows his Brother holds many battle advantageous traits – perhaps more than any other living, who better to verse him in battle than he? Kratos had completed all the other requests of king Errant in his army caste and this was the logical next step for the spotted giant.

    He watches as Brennan climbs into the sky and when he comes, Kratos begins to move too. Brennan makes his approach unnaturally quick – faster than his father or stepmother had ever been able to with their wings and he wonders if the bay stallion had gained another trait he was unaware of. But when the wind screeches and flings dust and dirt towards him, swirling oddly about the winged stallion, Kratos is appeased in the realization that he was only making use of his wind manipulation.

    As Brennan continues to approach, he does his best to see through the torrent of wind-flung dirt and stay opposite of the flying stallion’s aim. But with the wind and his opponent descending from the sky, there is only so much he can do besides prepare for the obvious as it comes. Brennan’s forelegs are well aimed on its descent and while he saw it coming, he does not move to rear and risk entangling himself in the bay’s legs and have him come crashing down atop him. So instead he does his best to swing his head away to avoid but he still feels the impact of his opponent’s hooves connect not with his eyes but with his poll. The collision is heavy, with the weight of the descending, flying stallion aimed better than he could defend from the ground.

    The impact almost stumbles the stallion for a breath but his legs remain sturdy and before Brennan’s hooves leave his skull – Kratos sends something back with him(that is if he somehow manages to move at the last second and miss striking Kratos). Kratos can manipulate the lightning in the sky, yes – but it is also a living part of the stallion, something that can be summoned from his skin or spat from his black mouth. So when Brennan’s hooves strike his skull, Kratos attempts to send a pulse of lightning back through the same hooves that struck him. Lightning moves at approximately 3700 miles per second – give or take, so it would have been as instantaneous as the headache that now rang in Kratos’ head. Strong enough bands of lightning can send a heart into cardiac arrest – which of course is not the aim with this fight amongst brothers, so the beam that Kratos echoed out would have been enough to numb his forelegs and chest, singe the fur about his legs or perhaps disorientate him enough to take him back down to earth. Regardless, he doesn’t feel the pressure of Brennan’s back hooves as he attempted to attack him a second time.

    It’s then that he begins to feel the earth shake beneath his hooves – his head is still ringing and making him slightly unbalanced as he keeps Brennan’s distant but very visible frame carefully in view. Well, as best in view as he could as Brennan used his wind manipulation to continue to fling dust and pebbles to deter his line of vision, So despite the subtle shift beneath his hooves, he is still instinctually watching Brennan’s hovering figure when the battleground’s birth the ice shards. The draft feels an immediate intense pain in his belly where a diagonal shard had cut through his superficial skin fat and although the wound begin to blood liberally – it would certainly not be enough to kill him or substantially drain him of his energy. Instead of dashing further away the stallion takes long leaps towards Brennan, swerving and skittering haphazardly to avoid the sprouting daggers that rose around him. The slice to his stomach is not his only wound, he is poked and sliced more than once, albeit superficially, along his hocks and thighs, leaving him bloodied and surely bruised tomorrow.

    Once far enough, as surely Brennan’s power was not ever-reaching, the ice shards no longer come and Kratos has no need to bridge the gap of space between him and his opponent. Kratos was bleeding and winded from the use of his powers, as he was sure Brennan had certainly begun to be – being that he had been continuously using his powers and flying since they started. So when Kratos spits a mouthful of lighting tendrils towards Brennan’s feathered frame – he hopes at least one will hit its mark. He isn’t picky about where it hits Brennan, just as long as it does. The force won’t be as potent as the first batch of lightning he sent for his brother, as his power is not limitless nor is it unlimited – but it would certainly get the job done. Brennan’s wings had served him inexplicably well during the battle, but being the highest thing around isn’t always the best, especially if it’s in a lightning storm.


    ooc - I hate to be picky but in my opinion, Brennan technically attacked him three times. When Brennan attacked him from flying, he attempted to hit him the first time with his front hooves and the second time with his back hooves, the third attack was with the ice shards. So that's why I dodged one of the attacks, just fyi. 
    #7
    Winner: Brennen
    Kortnee
    Co-Owner
    Ajatar - Harmonia - Sunday




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