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Post by elesette on Dec 3, 2014 19:41:48 GMT -5
Vasska had marched into battle that day with a proud look on his face, a mask to cover the fear of his herd, and the fear he felt himself. Each hoof fell into the soft grasslands like the beat of a drum. Each thud a reminder of the impending battle ahead. Vasska reminded himself that stories of war were full of glory. He tried to tell himself he'd step off this land untouched, and victorious. He could tell the herd that followed him more easily than he could tell himself that lie. He'd repeated it a thousand times, the words "We will win this war" had become a mantra that he could almost believe. Even still, it didn't matter what he believed. They were heading to the battle field, and as the heard reached the top of the hill his only wish was that he might make it off it. Vasska narrowed his eyes defiantly and the lush green lands of the summer fields below him, and it began to rain.
"To Victory!" He shouted, and started down the hill in attack. The Bachelor herd was just below them. The rain pitter pattered as mirrors to his hooves, a choir to accompany the drums. The war song of the Olde herd was playing. There was no going back now.
Vasska felt his muscles under his skin, and the blood roaring in his forward ears. Adrenaline, he felt it in a way he hand't before. There was a moment as he ran, that felt so quiet he could seem to hear it coursing through him. One second of quiet, and then the clash. It was like thunder booming after lighting, the explosion of sound that clapped as the herds merged together. Vasska was breathless in the noise, because suddenly it was here. War. It terrified him.
He felt lost in sudden crowd that forced its way around him, and he stood dumbly under the rain. Even as a horse shoved passed the great Andalusian, he couldn't stop his staring gaze. Like aragon's attacks while sparring, he hadn't expected the world to envelope him so quickly in his affairs. It wasn't till a single drop of rain hit him square on the face that he snapped his attention to the world around him. Somehow - no one had attacked him yet. The Olde King imagined that his moment of despair had lasted minutes, even hours. Yet as he turned to rush back into the battle, the horses that had been at his side moments before were barely passed him. He was as lost as he felt.
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Post by gingergoddess on Dec 7, 2014 1:33:07 GMT -5
Ghost stood in quiet anticipation as he watched the enemy herd charge over the hill. Angry, nameless, silhouettes; hellbent on destroying his way of life and stealing the land he and his herd mates had called home for generations. The stallion looked around at the familiar faces that surrounded him, each willing to fight to the death if need be. This was the moment they had all been preparing for, it's what they had been bred for. Even the broods, the weakest of their herd, were prepared to risk their lives if it meant protecting their home.
As the sound of thundering hooves grew louder, Ghost reared, throwing himself full force toward the oncoming mob, seeking out a worthy opponent. He barreled through the first wave of horses, blinking furiously in an attempt to rid his eyes of the rain water as it poured down his face. Mud splattered everywhere as his massive hooves beat the soggy ground mercilessly as he sought out a target. Ghost skidded to as stop as he noticed the Olde king running through the fray, no one stepping forward to confront him. The stallion snorted, seeing that Cain was already locked in battle with an opponent, Ghost veered off to run toward the mad king himself. This should be an adversary worthy of his time and skill.
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Post by elesette on Dec 11, 2014 17:30:52 GMT -5
The mad king, had his herd thought of it before the Bachelor stallions, even they might have thought the nick name to suit Vasska. He had a history of faulty decisions and even worse, a lack of remorse for how he had treated his herd in the past. Had he known the nickname, he might have flinched as the large gray bachelor turned his way. However, the king did not flinch, he did not move at all. Instead he stared down the oncoming opponent, as if his inner rage could somehow attack the stallion for him. In a way, it could.
With the panic that had since set in, and the rage spiraling together, the focus of his stare was just enough to channel his inner gift, and suddenly the watery ground was solid.
He hadn't mastered his gift yet, and channeling the energy had become a slow painstaking task for the king. Today was different. Something about the adrenaline and the rain had him feeling rather powerful. Still, the ice wasn't perfect. Its little circles barely scattered themselves between himself and the larger dappled horse. But they had flowed freely from within him, and for that the king was thankful. Perhaps the ice covered ground would be enough to give him the upper hand.
If there was ever a moment Vasska would be ready for battle, it would have to be now. He stayed still, and stared, the ice slowly growing from its smaller circles about him.
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Post by gingergoddess on Dec 11, 2014 18:22:06 GMT -5
As the stallion charged toward his pale opponent, he felt his legs give way under his as one of his hooves slid across a hard, slick, surface beneath him. Hesitating for a moment, Ghost scanned his surroundings, trying to see what had tripped up. Whatever it was, it was well hidden in the dark, rainy field. Shaking it off, The large stallion began running toward Vasska once again, taking note of his almost calm yet dour demeanor. Drawing closer, the appaloosa stallion slipped once more. He snorted loudly, confused frustration getting the best of him. He knew his herds territory like the back of his hoof, and he knew for a fact there weren't any big rocks around for a few miles. What was going on? Glancing back at the Olde king as he regained his footing, Ghost realized the grey Andalusian wasn't just standing there needlessly. little circles of the muddy ground around him seemed to freeze over, turning into glassy ice. Ice! That had to be what he'd already slipped on twice before. Skidding to a halt just a few yards away, he locked eyes with his opponent, meeting Vasska's angry gaze with his own malice filled glare.
This was it. If this was the game the Olde king wanted to play, so be it. Inhaling deeply, he willed his massive body to disappear. This way, he figured he could get close enough to the opposing stallion without falling flat on his face. He slowly marched toward the horse that the entire enemy herd put their hope in. If Ghost could just crush their king...maybe he could crush their spirit and their drive as well.
The ground under his hooves was almost entirely an icy solid now, though Ghost imagined a good stomp with his hoof could shatter it and make the footing slightly more manageable. For now, the massive bachelor would have to tread carefully, as the heavy rain seemed to be making the ice even more slick. Closing in on Vasska, the elite , swung his rear end around, lashing out at Vasska with his massive hind hooves, hoping to connect with the Andalusian's minimally scarred pelt.
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Post by elesette on Dec 11, 2014 19:27:24 GMT -5
The rain continued to patter down and freeze on top of his icey trail. With every drop, the fear that had long since settled in Vasska's body was washing away. He reminded himself that he had started this, and the tremble in his legs quieted. Fear slowly gave way to instinct. The ice was listening to him now, and as he watched the dappled grey slip on the ice he had made, the king smiled. This war, this war had happened for a reason. It was all Vasska had to do was remind himself that this was the right decision. He began to walk slowly towards the bachelor. With each step the king's confidence grew, and he felt menacing. The feeling gave way to memories of the past, when he had ruled his herd with the cruel smile he wore on his face now: back to when he had power. His gut twisted pleasurably at the thought. He had missed feeling such power, and the ice before him proved to the King he hadn't lost it. Yes, this was indeed the type of game he wanted to play.
As his hoof grinded into the solid ground again, he found his sight was betraying him. The stallion that opposed him seemed to blur in his vision and he stopped again in his tracks. He was ready for this, why was his body betraying him now? Then it hit him. The king had realized his opponents gift to late and the pain in his rib cage was a signal to that. The pain wouldn't stop him now - the ghostly horse no longer had the element of surprise. As Vasska opened his wincing eyes, he came to see that the other horse was not completely invisible. A wisp here, a rain drop there. There were ways to see him. If only Vasska could pinpoint him fast enough. This attacker was not the only horse he wanted to down this night. He would have the Bachelor leader: he would have Klaus. And if it meant having to push past any opponent as massive as his current, he would do it.
Vasska span around as he caught a quick glimpse of the semi-transparent stallion, and reared, hoping that perhaps he would come down on the other stallion's back- and perhaps it would be enough to down the stallion before he sought out his real target. But the leader Klaus had remained as invisable to him as the bachelor in front of him.
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Post by gingergoddess on Dec 11, 2014 21:24:11 GMT -5
The large stallion winced as heavy hooves crashed down on his back, cutting into the not fully healed wounds from his recent fight with Ronin. His legs buckled beneath him as he skidded across a patch of ice, desperately trying to regain his footing. He couldn't fall... leaving his body open and vulnerable to his opponent was out of the question. He had let it happen once with Ronin, and once was one time too many. Vasska was definitely intelligent, that much was clear considering he'd figured out how to pinpoint Ghost's whereabouts. Even with his invisability, one wrong move could cost him, and that was something neither he, or his herd, could afford. Snorting, the appaloosa attempted to rid his nose of the rainwater that was plaguing him as he turned to face the invading king.
Feeling the warmth of his own blood running down his hide snapped his attention back to the raging battle. Anger and fury boiled just beneath the surface as he looked around. Bachelors, all strong, proud, dauntless, fighting to secure their homeland once more. The fire of rage and retribution powered Ghost as he charged toward Vasska, maw open wide, his broad, flat teeth slicked wet with saliva and rainwater, in an attempt to latch on to the leader's throat. There was no way he would let this tyrant take what belonged to the Bachelors. Not now, not ever.
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Post by elesette on Dec 13, 2014 11:42:48 GMT -5
It was do or die now, Vasska knew this, but it wasn't enough to make the stallion move faster than his largely muscled, heavy body would let him. The transparent horse had got him again, and this time the impact made the King's legs grow numb in shock. His life was in danger now, and the king was frozen in fear once more. With Ghost's teeth clamped on his throat, one wrong move would lead to his death. The war would be over, and perhaps the Olde herd would cease to exist. But there were worse things on the king's mind. He feared in that moment he would never see Bloom again. The hard realization of what he truly wanted was enough to bring him back to the battle. Fear could not envelope this idea that it wasn't the herd he was coming home to after this war, nor was it his past love Arianna whom his heart had ached over for so long. No, he realized now with his life on the line it was Bloom. He needed to come home to Bloom, his queen, and tell her what he had discovered in this moment here.
With the welling of this new certainty - Vasska fell into a new focus. Blood dripping from his neck, hot against the cold rain that had slicked his coat, Vasska felt something shine within him. His gift was calling to him, the king had learned something new, and the rain above his opponent stopped. There was a single hanging moment where no water hit their heads, clouded their eyes or distracted them. Instead, a sea of a thousand tiny daggers, made of ice hung above their heads. Now, he only had to let go of this new power he had discovered and hope the tiny shards did some damage.
He took a breath, and as he did he felt the water begin to fall - the first tiny shard hitting, and slicing his own shoulder. He hoped more damage would be done to his Attacker, but alas, he could only hope.
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Post by gingergoddess on Dec 13, 2014 15:09:28 GMT -5
Anticipation of his impending kill sent shivers down the massive stallions spine as he felt the Olde king begin to panic in his grasp. As his teeth sank deeper into his opponent's flesh, the taste of blood filled his mouth, leaving the appaloosa grinning darkly. It had been years sense he felt this kind of power...this drive. Ghost had almost assumed the sensation was lost forever to his youth, then again, he had never truly expected his homeland to be invaded either. Clenching his jaws firmly on the Andalusian's jugular as he prepared to rip it out, he felt the stallion's body calm, as if intensely focusing on something.
Ice cold pain tore through his body, forcing him to immediately release Vasska's neck. In a flash, the barrage of tiny, dagger-like, ice shards that the king had conjured fell from the dark night sky. The assault startled him, so much so that he dropped his guard entirely for a moment, allowing his massive form to become visible as he reached around to pull a particularly vicious shard from his shoulder. Warm, sticky blood oozed from his wounds, staining his coat as it ran down his body. Refusing to acknowledge his own exhaustion, he reared up angrily as he charged to meet the royal intruder head on, pure adrenaline pumping through his veins. The battle wouldn't last much longer now. One of them would drop soon, it was inevitable. Ghost could only hope he wouldn't be the one to falter. For the sake of his herd...for his family..The elite knew he needed to be the last one standing.
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Post by elesette on Dec 14, 2014 0:04:13 GMT -5
The king sucked in air as he felt the opposing horse release his throat. He wasn't going to die today, at least not yet. Vasska was surprised his plan had worked, and the power welling within him only grew. After months and months of trying to make even the lightest coatings of ice with his gift, it had waited till now to show its true power. With each breath he realized just what it was he needed to control the ice around him, and the swirl of emotions the stallion was charged with only lead him to greater feats. His gift was so much more than he had imagined. He smiled, and with an inhuman bellow - leaped at the appaloosa.
"You will not win!" He announced, the guttural shout coming straight from his stomach. The king had never seen a war before, but this was what he dreamed of. This was glory, and he was going to take it as far as he possibly could! Teeth barred, he took a strike at the Bachelor. He was enjoying this much more than any respectable olde stallion should have. The way his muscles pulsed with every movement, and the way the ice felt as it shaped from his soul, it was all far too pleasurable. He wanted more, to take his power as far as he could in that instant.
And so he lept backwards from the horse that had intended to kill him only moments ago, and prepared to enact his own justice upon him. The puddles that once splashed under his hooves sprouted up, and ice was everywhere. Like glistening tendrils of crystal swords they surrounded the two horses. He would not kill this horse, but he would get this horse to talk. Now encircled by his own icey ramparts, the king began to pace around Ghost.
"Where is your leader hiding" he snarled, "Where is Klaus?"
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Post by gingergoddess on Jan 7, 2015 0:33:44 GMT -5
The rain was falling harder now, stinging the fresh wounds that covered the stallion's wide back. He watched as Vasska circled him like a large predatory animal, and for the first time during the battle, he felt incredibly trapped. Angrily he lashed out at the wall of ice behind him, but to no avail. With the mad king there to control it, the ice was almost unbreakable. Ghost sighed heavily, taking the moment to gather his thoughts and catch his breath. The fight was taking it's toll on the old stallion's body, and though he hated the situation he was currently trapped in, he was thankful for the brief moment of stillness.
"Where is your leader hiding? Where is Klaus?" The words caught the massive stallion off guard....Where was Klaus? Hell, Ghost didn't even entirely know where he was. Glaring up at the Andalusian, he laughed heartily. "Oh unicorns, don't tell me you of all horses didn't know!" The elite choked back another laugh as he continued to speak. "I would have thought you had better intel than that to follow through with your attack. You are far more foolish than initially thought, your highness." The words slipped from his lips sarcastically as he smirked at the Olde king. "Klaus is gone. Has been for months. One day he was declaring war, and the next, poof, he disappeared. Haven't seen hide nor hair of him since." He knew it was a lie, but only partially. There were some things the crazy beast in front of him just didn't need to know.
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