|
|
Post by Spitz on Nov 2, 2008 15:41:38 GMT -5
His banner swayed in the wind as he walked into the battle grounds. Everything was quiet and five vultures sat on a nearby tree, watching, obviously waiting for some food. He waited for his opponent and thought over some tactics in his mind as he was determined to win this time so he could get back his land that he loved. Time passed so slowly as he waited but he knew the land well as he was where they had fought last time.
The stallion watched the horizon for Bezzle. He was calm as he waited as he didn't want to get worked up before the fight otherwise he wouldn't be able to think before his actions. His whole body was still expect from his kissers moving slightly with every breath he took. His pelt had a odd shine to it and he knew it was blood from his own wound from the last battle. His kissers parted as he talked "come on pony, I want to fight" he said loudly, but calmly, into the air.
|
|
|
|
Post by Forte! on Nov 2, 2008 16:00:25 GMT -5
Here was a land that had grown back thick from destruction. Lava had once boiled life down to nothing on this side of the mountain, burying all but the secret seeds of the long dead trees. But, time had paid off, and green shoots had sprung and grown back into a forest, one younger and more full of life than what had been here before. The corpses of long-charred trees lay like beasts in the ground, which had begun to swallow them whole. This was the lush side of the volcano, the air seeping with life and power that was almost tangible. Life was thick here, for this was the side of the mountain that received the rains. Yet, though the plants had returned, the animals hadn't. The memory of the mountain was one too strong for words, something that had become almost ingrained in the psyche of the community. All those who did not wish to die in a horrible torrent of fire and rock stayed away from the volcano, all of those except the death-lovers, the vultures, the ravens. And another creature, the horse. Here was the site of the battles between light and dark, in some legends the site where the alliances had begun. Now one of the dark alliance moved through the thick trees, taking his time, head held high despite his small stature. Every movement suggested royalty, precedence. It was not unheard of that the small should be leaders.
The stallion was in no great hurry, this was his fight, a fight that he had already proved his worth in once. The stallion, his enemy, Axel, was a fool to return. He was lucky that he would not be killed today. Bezzle would have gladly snapped the thoroughbred's neck, ending this annoying rivalry once and for all. Bezzle had no time for such trivial things as his persistent enemy. Luckily, he might never have to fight again after this battle. If he won, Axel would never be allowed to return, and Fosse de Sabel would be unmolested by its weak former leader. secretly, Bezzle had his doubts about this fight. Axel was a powerhouse, more than a hand higher than Bezzle, and, besides, the injured shoulder that Bezzle had walked away with the last time was still sore and stiff, warning that it might pop out of the joint again. Nonetheless, the pony stallion walked regally to the sight of the fight, a relatively clear area of the dense forest adorned with a single tree. The stallion eyed the vultures silently before turning his gaze to his rival.
"We meet again, my friend," he said with a wolfish grin, revealing his freakishly sharp teeth. Those teeth had tasted blood in the last battle, and Bezzle was determined that they would again this time. "Too bad you couldn't just be a peaceful, good little colt. You might have been useful in my army," he spat. It was a lie, there was no way that Bezzle would ever allow his enemy to be in his herd, particularly since he lusted so after his former mate, Dysnomia. If Bezzle won, he would have one more week with that prize, and a prize she surely was. Bezzler continued to grin, looking rather smug as he spoke his next words carefully. "Your little queen has been quite a dream, not to mention your daughter. Too bad you won't ever have her back." He knew that Axel was frustrated about the law, that he could not ever free his daughter, she could only free herself or be freed by another horse. |
|
|
|
Post by Spitz on Nov 2, 2008 16:16:35 GMT -5
Axel saw his opponent and he greeted him with a nod. "Its nice to see you Bezzle" he said and smiled as he bared his teeth. In return the stallion picked up his feet, showing his very sharp hooves before lowering them down again and sighing. "I would not want to be in the army Bezzle, it would drive me insane" he laughed as he knew that the stallion was lying about it so he played along a little. As he talked about his mate and daughter his eyes narrowed and he spat on the ground "you touch my mate and your head will be lying on the floor, separated from the rest of you" he said and he arched his boa "as for Kamen, well, she won't be in your lands for long" a laugh escaped his kissers and a grin printed on his face.
He knew he was bigger than the pony but he didn't think he could win the battle just yet as the pony may be small but he was heavy and strong. His self was more agile so he took every advantage he could, including speed, and would use it against his opponent at every chance he could. He started to trot and move quickly with his eyes fixed on Bezzle all the time "good luck, may the best stallion win" he said softly and stood side on to the stallion. His orbs watched the stallion as his tail flew around in the wind. The stallion would not win this time and Axel was almost sure of it as he watched, silently, the stallion carefully and he observed every move he made carefully.
|
|
|
|
Post by Forte! on Nov 2, 2008 16:36:10 GMT -5
Bezzle's eyes widened slightly as he saw Axel's reaction to the news about his mate and daughter. The stallion grinned to himself, ears pricking up as he listened to his foe. "Breeding season comes quicker than you know," he said darkly, his voice a mere hiss across the clearing. The vultures on the branch shifted, feeling the change in the air as the spirit of battle invaded. The pony stallion rose his head higher and returned the stamping motion royally, grandly, each muscle fluidly moving to shift the earth beneath the small but tough dagger of the wild pony. It was a bluff, a ritual that had been held on through the centuries, from the very first time horses had ever fought. Stallions tried to impress one another, tried to make their foe drop out of the fight. And most of the time one cracked before the fight even began. But there would be none of that today, it was clear. The clouds swirled darkly in the sky, foretelling rains to come, to quench the volcano and the lands surrounding it, perhaps to finally bring life to the dismal desert of a land that the two stallions were now fighting for.
Bezzle's head rose barely to Axel's withers when the stallion stood next to him, dark form eclipsing his own. "Good luck, pah! I don't need luck to beat a worm like you," Bezzle snorted, but all the same he lay his muzzle gently on Axel's flank. This, too, was tradition, a tradition which had not been followed during the last battle. The vultures mumbled from their branch, which bobbed slightly as they shifted, trying to get a view of what was going on. Then, suddenly, Bezzle broke the tradition. His neck recoiled suddenly, jaws gaping, suddenly his whole body in a rapturous dance as his sharp teeth flashed from a gaping maw. His form shifted quickly away from his enemy, and then, suddenly, with his hindquarters pulled powerful beneath him, he launched straight for his foe, diving towards the wide black flank that lay only inches from his nose. It was a dead aim, a sudden movement that Axel would probably not be able to evade unless he had foreseen the treachery or noticed the birds, who could feel the coiled tension in the air and were now singing for death, for murder, rising from the branch and flapping low around the horses, claws scraping Bezzle's flesh lightly as they passed before whirling off into the great sky, circling above. |
|
|
|
Post by Spitz on Nov 2, 2008 16:52:10 GMT -5
Axel felt him resting his head on his flank and then saw the birds quickly flapping so he quickly put his leg up. He watched the stallion edge closer so he turned on the spot with his back facing the stallion and put out one of his legs so that he would get his own hooves straight into his neck. That would hopefully hit him hard enough so blood would be drawn so early in the battle and it wouldn't be his own blood spilled this time.
Time seemed to go by slowly as the stallion drew nearer. It was as if someone had stuck the whole scene on slow motion and it would only speed up at the very end. His mind drew to Kamenwati and she kept on calling you can do it daddy she kept on saying and then he realised it had happened in the last battle and then he suddenly realised that in his mind he was fighting for Kamen.
|
|
|
|
Post by Forte! on Nov 2, 2008 17:10:29 GMT -5
Time slowed as vultures flocked above, calling their brethren in until their shadows were inlaid, dancing on the ground in wide loops and occasional frenzied flight. Bezzle's eyes narrowed as he launched himself through the air at a slight angle, towards the flank of the other stallion, and began to grin wolfishly as he realized that Axel was turning towards Bezzle's open jaws, trying to get his hindquarters and Bezzle's jaw aligned. However, Axel seemed to underestimate the time it would take Bezzle to cross the mere inches between jaw and flesh, severely overestimating his own speed and bulk to that of his foe, a smaller pony. The maneuver would only put Axel in more danger, and all though this added momentum would no doubt hurt Bezzle as well, it did not matter as long as the pony got a grip. Axel was faster than Bezzle had anticipated, however, and he ended up only getting a grip on the lower hind leg, around the cannon. The outward motion of the hoof and leg jarred his mouth harshly, throwing him almost to the ground as he hit it, his swollen shoulder protesting.
Nonetheless, the pony kept his grip, digging his teeth into the leg as hard as possible, trying to get it to swell up, as there were no veins close beneath this part of the leg. Also, the fact that the leg was held up in Bezzle's mouth would put Axel off-balance, unable to use his other hind leg to swat off the leech that clung so determinedly to him. Bezzle's shoulder was on fire now, however, and the position was far from comfortable. He did not have the tenacity to hang on for long, and he would probably have to get a move on as soon as Axel figured a way to get him off without putting himself at resk of falling over, possibly on top of Bezzle, and injuring them both. The pony stallion gritted his teeth, waiting for the other to make his next move and waiting to see how in the world this uncomfortable position would effect his injured shoulder.
ATTACKS: 2
DODGES: 2 |
|
|
|
Post by Spitz on Nov 3, 2008 4:25:05 GMT -5
The pain shot into his leg and a high pitched squeek escaped his kissers. He raced to find a way to get out without hurting himself even more but the pain stopped him thinking so he done the first move he could think of. Unfortuently this was keeping as still as possible as the longer Embezzlement stayed down the more his shoulder would hurt. The pain in his leg was becoming imbearable and blood started to seap through the cuts and spill gently down his hooves making it stain scarlet. "good move Bezzle" he whispered gasping for breath as the pain almost stopped him breathing. His heart began to race and Axel was sure he saw his life flash past him but he opened his eyes and felt his hooves touching the stallions canine when he thought of a brilliant idea.
He moved his hoof back a little and aimed perfectly at the tooth. This blow with his hoof would probably rip some of his teeth out and that would stop some pain if they got into his own neck. He shut one eye and then shot his hoof forward to get that tooth and probably make his mouth bleed. Blood would seep onto his tounge and Axel knew how bad that tasted as they were not carnivores but herbivores and that means they hated blood.
Attacks Left: 1
Dodges Left: 2
|
|
|
|
Post by Forte! on Nov 4, 2008 8:15:19 GMT -5
Bezzle felt blood seeping down from his jaw, soaking into his fur, and shuddered with distaste. A salty, steely taste entered his mouth, and it took all of his will to keep biting down. He could feel his wounded shoulder protesting, shaking, and he closed his eyes, trying to think about something else, anything else. He felt the muscle twinge beneath his teeth, felt the leg shift, and he knew what was coming. But, he could not get away fast enough to avoid it, his shoulder wasn't allowing him to spin fast enough for the hoof to miss. He released the leg, staggering as the hoof came across his maw, hard enough to stun him into action. He spun away, with a screech, as the throbbing, sudden pain in his nose drowned out that of his shoulder. Blood filled his nostrils, making it hard to breathe and further staining his muzzle. He looked like some wild beast, eyes wide and showing the whites, maw smashed in by his foe's hooves. If he hadn't let go his jaw surely would have been dislocated, but as it was nothing was severely broken, though it was likely that his muzzle would bear a scar, a knot, forever.
The pony stallion stood there for a long time, looking a bit stunned and breathing heavily through his mouth. A low, growl-like sound erupted from his chest, his ears pinned back in fury. Anger drowned out his pain, and as he stared at Axel, the beautiful thoroughbred stallion with the pelt of purest ebony, hate clouded out the pain that now shot through ever centimeter of his head. His brain felt swollen, his head throbbing insistently and the base of his neck stiff and aching. This was no small wound, but anger made him detached from it, feeling as if this pain belonged to someone else, not him. This was surely not his nose, not his muzzle that seemed so useless. He grinned, teeth shining white through his blood-darkened maw, and stared with dark, glassy eyes at his foe. "Come and get me," he murmured, his voice surprisingly strong for the amount of pain he was in. The death-song picked up again in the trees, and a crowd of vultures swooped in all around, murmuring and shifting on the nearby branches, calling out with sharp cries that invaded the air, permeated what had once been peaceful with war-like noise.
ATTACKS: 2
DODGES: 1 |
|
|
|
Post by Spitz on Nov 4, 2008 13:32:11 GMT -5
Axel felt the release of his leg and he pulled it back sharply before turning to look at the wounded pony. "Bezzle, we are almost at stalemate so we should get this over with and fast" he forced a small smile at the pony and moved swiftly around but never walked behind the horse. He suddenly spurted into a gallop but instead it was a limp as a pain shot into his leg as soon as he put the pressure on it. Axel slowed down immediatly and went to do what he could only do with a injured leg.
He stood at the stallion side and eyed him carefully before rushing forward and he went to grab the throat. His aim was perfect and he knew it. His head through through the air and he curled his lips up, showing his teeth. A vulture flapped past Axel but he was so fixed that everything around him vanished including all sounds except the stallion and his own heavy breathing.
Attacks Left: 0
Dodges Left: 2
|
|
|
|
Post by Forte! on Nov 4, 2008 13:50:40 GMT -5
Bezzle nodded mutely at the other stallion's words, blinded by pain and hatred and struck down to the point that he could not - would not - talk to his foe. He grinned and swayed unsteadily, watching as the larger stallion lunged. Ah, he mistook how small Bezzle could be when he felt like it, how fleet small legs could get out of the way of even the most perfectly aimed strikes. He watched his foe come with an almost eerie silence, standing as still as a porcelain doll as he suddenly began to move. Only the legs moved, pumping from side to side like a dressage horse, crossing and uncrossing as he moved neatly out of the way, allowing his foe's teeth to clamp down on thin air. The blood had stopped flowing from his nose, and the pain began to abate, making the pony aware of the situation with his injured shoulder. It was sharply protesting to the continual shoulder-in, and Bezzle stopped and turned to stare at his foe from a safe distance, away from those crashing teeth. The pony's neck was folded neatly in so that his muzzle touched his furry chest, the former slightly stained, an almost magenta color with blood.
All was still except for the rustling of leaves and the shuffling of birds on the branches. This latter murmured constantly, chattering among one another, judging who had won this fight. The stallions were at a stalemate, both too injured to do more, and now only fate would decide, in its inevitable way, who had won the battle. Suddenly, Bezzle snapped his neck up, uninjured leg raising and falling to the Earth as if in jest, and an unearthly cry sounded from his muzzle. The birds, hearing this, took flight, they covered the sun with their dark forms, blacking out the light that filtered onto the dappled ground. Feathers swirled through the air beautifully, carried on the wind in an exaggeratedly slow floating form, dancing through the air as the birds did for an instant, before coming back to rest on the quivering branches. Bezzle, his work done, lowered his muzzle to the ground and lay down in silence, too exhausted and hurt to do any more. He knew that Axel wouldn't dare, with his leg torn apart and injured so that he could barely walk, much less sleep. With the cannon injured, the horse would have to lay down at night, making him vulnerable to all sorts of predators.
The fight was done, and the vultures sensed it, quieting down their ceaseless palaver to a mere whispering murmur. They, too, wished to see what fate would decide, what the setting of the sun would bring. Scarcely a season ago, the era of Anse de Dragon had ended, but could it be that it would once again rise to power? Or would the sand trap, Fosse de Sabel, the place of many births and many deaths, continue to be the kingdom in which prisoners were kept and none could return to once they were banished forever? With this fight, Embezzlement might lose the right to ever own the land again, or gain the right to kill Axel if he ever returned. If fate and luck were on his side, it would be the latter.
ATTACKS: 2
DODGES: 0
-STALEMATE- |
|
|
|
Post by FalconX on Nov 4, 2008 13:59:15 GMT -5
Since your last fight was very recently, I'm going to give shorter reasons. But, I have looked at everything.
First I want to say, I believe that Spitze, you improved since the last battle.
Well done both of you!
Spitze - I still think you could give more detail, and perhaps some more background on why he's fighting so hard. Otherwise, well done!
Forte - I don't think, near the end, that he would have been able to move out of the way so easily, even though he is smaller, just because of the amount of pain he would have been in. Besides that, wonderful job!
Winner - Forte & Bezzle
Well done, both of you!
Keep practicing Spitze, you're getting better <3 !
|
|
