the Rift

There's only this

Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE

"Thank you for doing this" she said over the shoulder as she led the way out onto the cliffs. In the failing light it was still possible to make out the features of the gargantuan man, but Erthë kept her eyes on the ground. It was slippery, the milder weather and many passing hooves had compressed the well traveled path into frozen slush as deceptive as it was uneven. Not even her pale cloves could always finding traction, and as she briefly glanced up to survey the cliff-side meadow Erthë began to wonder if this really was the best place for this kind of lesson. So many people had foraged for grass here recently that the snow was trampled into the ground, a treacherous mixture of powdery snow, sheer ice and piled up drifts that would be difficult indeed to move about on.

But no one else was around, which was a small comfort; she would be spared making a spectacle of herself as she stumbled around, and no one but the King would see her get her ass handed to her.

Making it out to the center of the field with the cliffs a good distance away, she turned to face the blue-eyed mammoth with a shy, tentative smile, placing the distant forest on her left shoulder and the sea on her right. The ghosts of old conversations seemed to hover in the air between them lately, unresolved matters creating a tension and a distance that she loathed more than anything. It was her own fault, of course; most bad things that happened were brought on by Erthë herself, and this was no different. She knew she had hurt the man by trying to conceal her addiction, knew fully well that she had made a fool of herself on the glacier as they retrieved Mauja, acting like a filly half her actual age.

(No doubt she had been wiser at that age, less burdened and a lot happier overall.)

That Tembovu agreed to this request of hers was more a testament to his generosity, not something she really had earned lately...

But maybe it might help, somehow, to spar. Maybe if she could show him that she really wasn't trying to die choking on red petals his worry would ease a little, maybe she could be, if not forgiven, then at least understood as she refused to bow to the past or let her scars dictate her future. Maybe, if all else failed, he would at least receive some gratification in kicking her about for a while...

She would be fine with that. She could take it. Erthë knew she didn't look it, but she was a tough girl; she would survive.

"So... How do you fight, where you come from?" she asked, and readied herself. It was a good thing he was so big - even by the dim light from her glowing treasures it would be hard to see him as darkness gathered, and she would need every ounce of warning she could get if she were to get out of this without embarrassing herself.

PC: 0/3
WC: 518

Location: World's Edge, twilight, on the meadow between cliffs and forest. Ground is uneven and slippery, daylight is quickly fading. Erthë is wearing her glowing acorn and fang, providing some light.

It isn't what they say about you
It's what they whisper in the dark

image | coding


~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

Tembovu the Elephant Posts: 805
World's Edge Captain atk: 7 | def: 9.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 18hh :: 10 HP: 77 | Buff: SWIFT
Mbwene :: African Elephant :: Ashen smitty
The Elephant King’s ears tilted forward to hear her thanks, “I’m glad you asked me, Erthe,” his deep voice rumbled in response. Though his brows rose and his attention was not fully on her as his large hooves attempted to dig in and find traction in the slick, powdery ice. Why she chose this place, he wasn’t certain, and part of him had a mind to lead her elsewhere, to a place with better footing, to teach her.

However, the filly’s steps were sure (or, at least, as sure as they could be in the packed, icy snow), and her shy and tentative smile bade him to stay here. So, instead of relocating, he used his considerable weight and spiked hind shoes to gain grip in his steps. When reaching the middle of the clearing, his attention left his ivory hooves and refocused on the pearlescent young mare as she asked her question, his great body halting and attempting to arrange to face her head-on.

“There is no magic in Dorobo, and none are winged on the plains. So we fought with our horns, our bodies, and very few weapons,” was his low, but easy, answer. His navy gaze swept to her wings, “I am not sure that I will be able to fully teach you to use your wings, but I can teach you defense on the ground, should you ever be attacked in tight confines.” His head tilted slightly, darkening gaze leaving the frosted edges of her feathers for her duo-hued eyes. They sought to see her pupils—were they dilated and distracted, under the influence of the dangerous plant she used?

His lips pursed slightly, though he was glad she had asked him to help her fight (part of him had worried he would never hear from her again after their last, tense conversation), he was still none too happy about her habit. Though he had not yet asked again if she still used the poppy plant.

A sigh pushed out of his lips as he squared his shoulders and slightly tucked his jaw to his neck, “Beneath the neck is most vulnerable, so try to protect it whenever you can. Also, from those I’ve fought with wings, while they can be useful weapons, they can also be handles for leverage—so keep them tucked tightly when not using them. Now,” he paused nose reaching out to attempt to bump her gently (but firmly) on the chest, “With this slick footing, you’ll need a wider, firmer stance to keep your balance against any attacks. You may also have to use your wings to steady yourself.”

When his deep rumble of instructions finally ceased, he watched her small body for a few, long moments, waiting to see if she heeded any of his teachings thus far, before suddenly and abruptly swinging his massive head and heavy horn down from his right shoulder aimed towards her twin, spiraled horns. Though his attack was intended to be both harsh and surprising, it wasn’t meant to injure the filly; it was more to test her reflexes and see just how much she already knew.

A: 1/3
D: 0/1
WC: 525
Damage Tracker: --
Summary: Facing Erthe, he swings his horn to hit against her upright horns.
the Elephant King


Sorry for the delay! Even though this is an IC teaching spar, I'll still give OOC notes because I don't know how good Tembo's IC notes will be ;P BUT I'll give them after your first attack!

Things to remember:
  • You've described the environment beautifully! Remember to carry it throughout the fight.
  • Take damage rolls appropriately! Since Tembo's damage stat is on the higher side, keep that in mind!
  • You've already hit on the tense, emotional aspect of this fight. Remember to mention how that will affect Erthe's mental reactions to hits and attacks.
  • Keep the structural differences between the 2 of them in mind when writing. You already did a good job of mentioning it before, but make sure to include how Erthe's small size (or Tembo's large size) affects how his attacks damage her and how she decides on which attacks to make!
  • Don't hesitate to ask me any questions :)

Please tag Tembovu.

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Time limit exceeded. Erthe defaults to Tembovu. Tembovu earns 0.5 VP.

Forum Jump:

RPGfix Equi-venture