|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Oct 18, 2012 4:38 am
He avoided Aesir's attack without too much trouble. Njal was not slowed down one bit by his unsuccessful first attack or injuries. He took a few quick steps back to avoid being caught in another grapple, because at this point in the fight Njal doubted it would go too differently. Aesir seemed to have an advantage in that sort of position for the time being.
He didn't try too hard to get out of range, however. Njal shot out a paw to strike at the left side of the Warlord's face, while his paws were probably busy with landing. All the same, he kept his hind legs tense and ready to escape any further advances from the Warlord. Right now he would very much prefer to keep his opponent at arm's length, though he was unwilling to distance himself too much. Njal knew very well that he was a better fighter in close quarters.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 19, 2012 5:17 am
Comign down heavily on the ground as opposed to coming down heavily on Njal jarred Aesir momentarily. It was just long enough for Njal's claws to rake the left side of his face, dragging over his brow ridge, cheekbone, and eye. Probably he was imagining it, but Aesir would have sworn by all the Stormlords that he'd heard a popping sound. At any rate, between the blood and quite probable destruction of his eye, Aesir's vision was suddenly halved.
He roared in pain, but years of reaving had made een a roar of pain sound a great deal like a roar of fury. And he was furious, too. The first serious wound in this challenge and it had been inflicted on him. He had to get his head in the game and stop thinking about Kazul. She was under the care of the high priestess. She would be fine.
Working through the pain, Aesir surged forward, aiming to close the distance Njal was working to keep open. He would rather be in close where he could use his bulk to his advantage and where it would be impossible for Njal to blindside him. His teeth were bared as he plunged toward Njal's chest. They sought Njal's face while he attempted to hook his claws into one of his opponent's shoulders to drag him down like an antelope.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 19, 2012 5:59 am
Yollalunta  Yolla had to keep bobbing up and down, balancing on his hind legs in brief intervals so that he could see over the heads of the larger reavers who crowded in front of him and made it almost impossible for him to watch the action. It was beyond frustrating, and at last he just planted his paws on the handquarters of the lions in front of them and used them for support. No homo. After that he could more or less see what was going on, and what he could see was actually not quite what he had expected to see. It seemed to him that there had been more epic battles fought on the practice sands. He had fought in more exciting-looking battles. From what he could tell, the only thing that made this fight especially interesting would be the consequences for the loser. He didn't have a favorite in the fight. He had heard it said that Njal was more of a traditionalist, whatever that meant, and that he wouldn't want outlander-born like Yolla and his family filling the pride, which wasn't a policy Yolla could get behind. On the other hand, Aesir was Burzum's grandfather, and Yolla hated Burzum. Kivi  "Oh!" Kivi exclaimed, her tail lashing back and forth with excitement as she watched the two combatants. From her point of view, very close to the fighting, the pair of lions seemed absolutely enormous. Every time they clashed she was put in mind of a pair of titans doing battle. She had never really paid that much attention to fighting before, not like her brothers did, but now as she watched Aesir and Njal tear into each other she felt thrilling butterflies in her stomach and her heart beat so hard she was certain it must be audible. When Njal evaded Aesir's attempt to land on him and the warlord's paws hit the ground instead, Kivi could feel the impact through her feet, and suddenly she was no longer sitting next to her brother but on her feet and barely standing still with adrenaline coursing through her. Brenning  Brenning, unlike Kivi, was not particularly thrilled by the battle he was watching. Not that he would admit it, but seeing the two enormous lions attacking each other was scary. It was like when his ma and da fought, or his ma said hateful things to his aunt. He couldn't talk about it, but he didn't like it. It made him feel sick and sad. No matter how sick and sad he felt, Bren forced himself to watch every moment of the match. He was a Stormborn, the son of two warriors, and he would not become some stupid ergi when he grew up. He would be tough and scary. He'd be so tough and scary that just hearing his name would make his enemies surrender. It was hard to imagine that one day he would be fighting like Aesir and Njal though. The two of them looked as if they would have no qualms about killing one another if the opportunity arose. Bren didn't mind things dying, but so far he'd never killed anything or seen anything being killed. He hoped secretly that he would not see his first killing today, even as he whispered to Erryk, "Do you think anyone's going to die?" Burzum  Burz felt the earth tremble beneath his feet as his grandfather missed his attack, and then watched in what felt like slow motion as the lion who had challenged reached out and raked his right paw across Aesir's face. Blood flew as Aesir moved with the blow and then shook it off before fighting back, spattering Burzum's black and white face with red and making him look even more savage than usual. The lithe young warrior kept his paw firmly planted atop his tail so that it would not lash as Kivi's was doing. If he could have borne the thought of looking away from his grandfather's battle for even a moment, he would have checked on Finna to make sure she hadn't been struck by any of the flying blood. He had felt it hit him and had mixed feelings about it, but he didn't know how Finna would react. She was only a girl and kind of silly, but she was his sister and he had to look out for her. He had not noticed when his father arrived, having been wholly engrossed in the goings-on in front of him, and so as far as he was concerned he was the only representative from his family there to look out for his sister. His aunt Ember and half-uncle Hroarr didn't even register. He had barely seen either of them and would only have turned to them in an hour of utmost dire need.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 19, 2012 8:26 am
Finna Like Burzum, Finna was feeling intense anxiety. Maybe even worse than it had been when she had first heard of this battle. She felt sick to her stomach, truly sick. It wasn't often she got that way, she was a pretty tough little girl down to her core. But seeing her grandfather's blood.. And that was when it hit her. She cried out, backing away. She hit Erykk, who growled and she didn't even look at him. Her eyes were still on her grandfather. Looking at Burzum didn't help, as he had that intense gaze. He was also splattered with their grandfather's blood. He looked dark, and scary that way.. But he was still her brother and she held no fear against him. "Burz.." She said softly, and looked down at her snow white fur now tinged with the dark crimson. "Burz, I.." She couldn't help herself. She started to cry. Canicah Cani was interested in this fight, but not for herself or for the pair that was fighting. No, she could see the blood drip from Finna's pelt and she rushed to her, trying to wipe it off. She wasn't sure how she would take being doused with blood from her family.. But she had a feeling she wouldn't be much better about it than Finna. "Shh.." Canicah said, and cuddled against Finna's leg for support. Erykk All of the fighting was intoxicating, and he found that every drop of blood that was spilled, he had a hard time staying seated. He saw Kivi stand, and he felt the pressure of her weight lift off of him and he chuckled. That was his sister, she was brave, he knew. But he would be there for the moments that she wasnt. He was a fighter, and he was brave, but he had an undying loyalty to his sisters. The words hit his ears, and he looked down at the slightly smaller cub. "If it's any sort of a good fight, they will." He said in return, though his voice was low. He was enjoying this battle a great deal. He couldn't wait till he was old enough to fight too.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 19, 2012 9:45 am
Hroarr had refocused on the fight, eyes narrowed as he followed the motions, though he kept one ear on his half-sibling beside him. Despite that attention, he was startled when something bumped his shoulder. He looked down with a sharp gasp, muscles coiled to lash out, but he stopped as he realized she'd... leaned on him. Literally. He stared at her a few moments, uncertain how he felt about it. Before he could decide, the fight's movement, his father's leap for the dodging opponent, jerked his attention back again.
He was just time to see his father land hard, and the devastating swipe across his face. Blood welled too fast to see if the eye was damaged or not, but for now, Hroarr knew Aesir had to be at least half-blinded. His body trembled as he fought to remain still, now for two reasons. He needed to at least try to appear calm and collected, for anxiety and worry were weaknesses in this bunch of brawling stormborn. But also, he now had a sibling looking to him for support, both emotional and physical. He had two thralls now, but it was strange to have someone not enslaved depending on him. It hadn't happened before, because his own litter were so independent.
As a reaver and captain, Hroarr knew very well the handicap having a blind side could be. If he were fighting a lion thus scarred, he'd take full advantage of the liability. It was an open invitation to be attacked on that side, and it made Hroarr's throat tighten to know that Aesir was now in that very undesirable position. Still, he could pull out of it. He was a wily fighter, and not unaware of the vulnerability that he'd need to compensate for. He could win this, he could! Or at least, so Hroarr kept repeating to himself silently. Surely he'd win, and all would be as it had been. If not... ruthlessly he tore his mind from such a possibility and waited anxiously to see if his... their father recovered enough to continue his offensive tactic.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 19, 2012 10:08 am
Yollalunta With the last blow struck to the warlord Yolla was part of a collective gasp. Apparently everyone had expected the warlord to dodge that blow. Yolla couldn't help wondering if the warlord was really putting the attention into this challenge that it deserved. If he wasn't that was kind of insulting to the challenger, and at this point pretty damn stupid. "Come on," he said, not realizing that he was now cheering Aesir on. "Get your head in the game and do this!" He knew the warlord was a better fighter than he was demonstrating today and it irritated him that he wasn't performing at top capacity. He had no idea what else might be on the warlord's mind, not being particularly close to the family even though his dad was off viking with Captain Ru. All he knew was that if someone had challenged him for the position of warlord, he wouldn't be making stupid mistakes like Aesir was making. Kivi "Don't be a baby, Bren," Kivi said. For the first time in their acquaintance she was the one who was unsympathetic. She hadn't expected it to feel like this watching two lions fight. She'd watched lions spar before and that hadn't done much for her. It was the violence and the danger of this particular fight that got her blood racing. She noticed Bren's sister going over to the fey-blooded pair whose position was even better than her own and realized that they were both covered in blood. Momentarily she was struck with jealousy that they had such a tangible souvenir from this epic battle and she didn't, but then she realized that was their grandfather's blood they were wearing and thought how awful that must be for them. She didn't know how she would manage if any of her family were in a position like this. Brenning Kivi's dismissal came as a shock to Bren, who had never heard her talk to anyone like that. He almost fell into a pouting expression, but that would just prove her point, and he didn't want her to think he was a baby. Probably he was too young to even be entertaining these thoughts, but Bren had already begun to think that since he and Kivi were such good friends, someday maybe they would get married, and theirs would be a happy den, unlike the one his parents provided. "I'm not being a baby," he muttered. Without even thinking about the fact that the warlord's grandcubs were barely a few feet away he went on to declare, "I hope I get to see somebody die today. It'll be really cool. Especially if there's lots and lots of blood." And then he remembered, finally, that he was sitting very near a highly-strung pair of cubs who had a vested interest in the outcome of this fight, at least one of which was known to be violent when provoked. He cleared his throat and added, "As long as the right lion wins." Burzum Burz wasn't paying the least attention to Bren being stupid at the moment. He had other things on his mind, most notably his sister and the pushy cub who was trying to get close and wipe the blood off of her. "Get away from her," he growled, fixing Canicah with a glare that promised immediate violence if she didn't obey him. He, himself was on the border of hysterics, and he couldn't stand to see someone touching his grandfather's blood and trying to get rid of it. In his mind it seemed like she was trying to get rid of his grandfather. "It'll be all right, Fin," he promised, pulling her awkwardly toward him. "I've seen Grandda fight before. He's probably just pretending he can't see and letting Njal think he's got an advantage."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 19, 2012 12:15 pm
Njal had never honestly planned on blinding Aesir. His constant attacks for the face were mostly due to the general idea of faces being more fragile and sensitive, not so specifically because of the fact that if you clawed up someone's eye they would probably end up blind. But he also wouldn't complain that this had happened.
He wasn't about to go underestimating the warlord either. Njal just about matched Aesir in size, otherwise this challenge would have been rather dumb, but the other lion was admittedly more experienced, with or without two functional eyes. He dodged to the right (Aesir's left, of course), but didn't manage to escape the attack altogether. He felt his pressure against the left side of his neck, and Njal could never have been more glad about being male and having a thick mane to lessen the damage. His response was immediate, pulling back and shaking his head in the hopes that Aesir would not have enough time to bite down hard enough to get a grip, but Njal didn't manage to shake him off altogether.
One of Aesir's paws did manage to find a mark on Njal's right shoulder, and he was immediately aware of that one. His shoulders were already pretty damaged, and it wouldn't take much to make them worse. Though Njal was sure he could stand his grown for a while and avoid being pulled down or flipped over, he knew he couldn't keep this position and had to get Aesir of now.
He lowered his head as much as he could and raised his left paw towards Aesir's face, like he might do to get rid of flies. Only with a bit more intent. It would compromise his balance, but if Njal managed to scratch the warlord's nose, ears, his other eye, or simply get good enough a grip to shove him away, Njal might be able to get free before Aesir succeeded in bringing him down.
If he did end up on the ground anyways... Well, he'd deal with that if it happened. He already tried to think of how he could end up in position to tear up Aesir's belly if it came to it; that was the only advantage (among a myriad of disadvantages) of being on the ground. If your legs weren't busy holding you up, you could get a bit more creative.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 19, 2012 12:57 pm
Bousvor rumbled softly to himself. It was easy to see Njal wanted to keep some distance from his opponent, and Aesir wanted exactly opposite. He gave a visible wince as the Warlord took a blow to the face. It was impossible to tell from here. Would the eye still be any good? There was a tingle of….. something…. down his spine as Aesir roared. The tawny male took a moment to glance around him. Noting the reactions and faces of the other lions to the fight so far. He turned his attention back in time to see Aesir get a hold on Njal’s shoulder again.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 20, 2012 3:02 pm
Quote:  Bifrost was on the move when Aesir was hit, and when he heard the roar of the crowd and whipped his head around to look, the damage was already done. He would describe Njal's move in excruciating (and gory) detail later, as if he'd been close enough to feel the blood splatter. Artistic liberty, and all that. From then on he tried to keep one eye on the fight while working the crowd, giving him a rather cross eyed look. It also earned him several curses and yelps from lions he bumped into and cubs he absentmindedly stepped on. But it was worth it in the end. While most other Stormborn were giving the fight their full attention he snapped up some interesting tidbits. A lion and a lioness standing close together sparked his imagination and he could feel how juicy this little piece of gossip might be. Aesir's son Hroarr and his viking born daughter Ember getting all cozy together... Last time he checked Aesir's legitimate children weren't exactly on speaking terms with his viking born ones. Was this a forbidden romance in the making? Oh-ho-ho! Love that could never be... So romantic, so juicy. The fact that he had no proof had never stopped the bright blue bard from stirring up trouble. He sneaked up behind the pair, stepping on some more paws in the process. "All friendly now, are we?" he asked with a knowing look. Bifrost sincerely hoped that they would look guilty, because that would make his story even better. Quote:  Aruná gasped with the crowd as Njal managed to claw Aesir across the face. She knew that the thin skin and many superficial blood vessels in the face could make even small wounds look nasty, but there was an awful lot of blood. She'd seen worse, obviously, but still.
Lucky it wasn't Akatta's husband, because with a bleeding wound like that it was much less likely to win. She started to regret choosing this place to watch the fight. The dark Freeborn seemed pretty tough, but if her husband was injured and she started sobbing or something... Well... He'd better win, because Aruná was not good at being comforting to almost-strangers. A tiny droplet of blood had reached Torbjörn's paws and left a crimson splatter across on the white fur. He registered the fact that cubs seemed to be freaking out somewhere close to him, but he didn't flinch. Judging by historical data this didn't look too good for Aesir, but fights had turned from worse positions than this before. It wasn't decided just yet. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach, but he hoped that his gut feeling was wrong.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 20, 2012 4:53 pm
 Odd had been with his half-sister for most of the fight so far. She was having cubs and she wanted him with her. Her mother hadn't been pleased about his presence, but Kazul had insisted. She had also insisted that he keep tabs on the fight and tell her how it was going. He didn't really want to report this news to her.
He could see the way the fight was going and guess how the rest of this fight would go. Kazul would have to wait. Odd had noticed his niece and nephew sitting on the front lines watching and realized that this was no place for them. Things were going to turn ugly quickly. He cared about his father and hated that he was making this decision, but he didn't think Aesir could win this fight at this point. It made him feel like a traitor, but even so he did what needed to do.
The fox-furred lion with the warlord's markings forced his way through the audience, indifferent to the inconvenience he caused, until he reached his niece and nephew. He was not best pleased with his siblings for not spotting this and dealing with it, particularly the cubs' father, but if he had to be the one to take charge, he would.
When he reached Finna and Burzum he crouched behind them and told them, "It's time to go home. Do not argue with me. Go straight home without stopping or dawdling and stay there until your father or myself come. Understand?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 20, 2012 6:44 pm
Lena Lena wasn't overeager to watch this duel, but she knew it was her duty as a pridemember to be here. She watched with some other Freeborn females on the outskirts for a while before drawing closer, heading towards Thorgrim. Thorgrim would be disappointed if she wasn't here to see this. When the Warlord's eye was gouged, she couldn't help flinching. Lena had seen duels in her time, but she had never been Reaving (certainly not!) and had never seen such a degree of savagery in a match. This was truly serious, then. Her friend Akatta's husband had a chance. Lena knew what Thorgrim and her friends thought of Aesir, but it still made her stomach churn to see their Warlord hurt so badly. "I hope it's over soon," said Lena faintly. One way or the other, it surely would be. Gaved Gaved was having a grand old time elbowing the other Reavers to see properly. He hadn't been included in his father's machinations. It rankled, infuriating him that Thorgrim thought he was not to be trusted with serious business but only with a shrewish harridan of a wife. But Gaved still supported his father, and it thrilled him to see Njal beating the piss out of Aesir. He let out a roar of approval when Njal struck Aesir across the face, bloodying him badly. Glancing over, Gaved spotted Thorgrim, Lena and Dalla watching together. He was sure he had seen Brynja over there just a moment before, but now she seemed to have vanished. He frowned. What was Dalla doing there? Cozying up to his family without him, trying to turn them against him, most likely! He would not stand for it. Gaved shouldered his way through the assembled lions to join them, favoring Dalla with a truly spite-filled glare before nodding to his father and aunt. He wouldn't cross words with her in front of them, and not in this important arena, but he would make his feelings known to her later. The scheming wench. "It's going well, father," Gaved said loyally. Sehvi Sehvi was damned if she was going to miss this battle. It was the most violent battle she'd ever seen, but the not-quite-Reaver did not flinch when Aesir's blood flew. She narrowed her eyes, focusing on the other lion's style. He seemed to prefer going for the face. Tricky, that. Useful to know for when she faced him at the next Breytast Vindar. Yolla had a pretty good idea about standing on peoples' haunches to see. The other lions were so distracted that they wouldn't notice someone, er, getting a lift. She propped herself up beside him, planting her forepaws squarely on the rump of a fat lion. The lion grunted and swatted at her, but was too distracted by the fight to throw her off. "This is a pretty good fight, huh?" Sehvi remarked, looking at Yolla briefly before returning her full attention to the dueling lions. "When I'm fighting Njal I'm not going to make all these dumb mistakes. Aesir is going to lose." Sehvi had no loyalty to the old Warlord and no sympathy. May the strongest lion win.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 20, 2012 6:56 pm
Yollalunta Yolla looked away from the fight, startled to be addressed by anyone other than the lions he was using to prop himself up. Shockingly, they hadn't said a damn thing to him. He guessed they were really engrossed in the action. He could hardly blame them. "It's kind of sad that even his own son thinks so," Yolla had to agree. It had been hard to miss one of the fox-colored fey-bloods acting with uncharacteristic aggression and forcing his way through the crowd to reach Burzum and his sister. If Yolla had known the pair was being sent home he would have been amused. Sometimes it was good to be a teenager with an absent father. "But you know you're never going to challenge a warlord, right? They won't even bother to acknowledge you. You're a girl." It was kind of embarrassing that he had to remind Sehvi of that, but she seemed to forget it sometimes.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 20, 2012 8:30 pm
Hroarr was knotted up inside, watching the brutality that was the struggle for his father's position. Their father's position, he reminded himself. The crowd jostled and moved around and behind them, but he had paid none of it any heed. Until a voice practically in his ear, with a sneering, mocking tone, said what it did. However much he wanted to slash the smirk from the lion's face for being so flippant during such a serious time, he wouldn't dishonor his father's moment by doing so. Instead, he balled his paw, pivoted sharply, and drove that paw towards Bifrost's face, snarling, "Have respect for your Warlord, worm!" A fire was in his eyes that normally didn't flare so brightly. Hroarr was not to be messed with just now.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 21, 2012 12:46 am
The crowd roared and reared, and Ragnhild was jostled free. She gasped, but not only because she could finally draw breath again - she had been looking right at him when it happened. Streaks of crimson across the Warlord's face, spatters of blood flying through the air.
Suddenly, Ragnhild didn't know what she was feeling.
Dalla! she had to find her sister. She moved as if in a daze, aware of the burning in her chest and muscles, but unable to really feel it, Ragnhild slunk, jumped and ran through the crowd without a single thought to the consequences. She frantically sought the familiar hues of her sister's pelt, but kept one eye on the raging battle all the same.
Aesir. She remembered that she had loved him once. So strong and handsome. Why was it so hard to remind herself right now, of how ill he had used her? Twisted her mind until she had committed murder for him, and then thrown her away like a week-old carrion. She glanced at his movements as he threw himself forward. Was he slowed down? Did he favor his right side? Could he see out of that blood-soaked eye?
Would he actually not make it this time?
She came upon her sister's group so suddenly that she almost didn't stop in time. Her bright blue eyes sought the comfort she knew she would find in her sister's steady gaze.
"Dalla...!" She panted. Then her body caught up with her, and she folded in on herself as a tremendous fit of coughing overtook her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 21, 2012 5:04 am
Sehvi Sehvi was annoyed at this fresh reminder that she was a girl and therefore considered weak by some of the pride's meatheads, but experience had taught her that whining about it wouldn't win respect from anyone. Not even Yolla. She shrugged, shifting her weight and getting a grumbled curse from the lion she was using as a footrest. "So I'll beat the crap out of him until he's forced to acknowledge me," Sehvi said grimly. "And then I'll beat the crap out of him again." A foolproof plan. Sehvi bared her teeth at Yolla in a grimace that was not quite a smile, daring him to disagree. She was certain she could beat the crap out of Yolla at least, if not Njal (not quite yet, anyways). Ormarr Ormarr had been watching by herself sans friends or siblings, an island of quiet packed in amongst the rest. She gasped with the crowd when Aesir received that terrible blow. Why wasn't he paying attention? Ormarr had long ago resigned herself to being one of a crowd of many to him with nowhere near the status of his favored daughter Kazul, but he was still her father. Spotting her brother Odd fussing at the babies of the family, Ormarr winced again. Odd's alarm was infectious, and she found herself drawing back through the crowd. Ormarr looked like her father's daughter through and through, but she respected the intuition of her witchier-looking siblings. Odd in particular. Something bad was going to happen. This wasn't a good place to be. Spotting another of her nephews in the throng, Ormarr snatched him up by his scruff and began to drag him out of the crowd. Erskine Erksine had just finally managed to find a good spot to watch when he was snatched up by some unseen force and hauled bodily away. "Hey!" He twisted, trying to get a look at his captor, and saw flashes of a pelt that looked very much like Aesir's. Oh. Auntie Ormarr. "What're you doing, Aesir's just about to beat this guy!" Erskine growled. This was undignified. He wasn't a cub anymore. Everyone would laugh at him. Ormarr ignored his protests and continued hauling him away. Dammit.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
