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[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,1,true][atrb=width,500,true] [atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/10dfe6w.jpg,true] SHADOW MOSES

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Name- Shadow Moses
Breed- Andalusian x Welsh Cob x Mustang
Age- 3
Gender- Stallion
Height- 16hh
Alliance- Light
Health- 100%

It was amusing for the vile beast to reflect on the past few months. Moses and his brother had come so far in such a short time and their intentions had hardly even been revealed! Many thought that he and his brother were disconnected and in no way united but they were very, very wrong. Many just thought his brother, Sempiternal, to be an odd light. An odd light trying to make his way into this vast world and Moses could say the same for himself. But lights were rarely provided to entertain the thoughts that they might be spies for one of the most influential lands in Wild Equines. It would make perfectly good sense though. Everyone knew Necropolis ate lights for lunch --- perhaps quite literally in private. He had to be better than your average sunshine walker and the arrogant prick believed he was. He had no reason to doubt himself among others of the light alliance. They were pathetic, useless bags of flesh and a disgrace to society. Moses didn't quite understand why 90% of the light population wasn't simply eradicated. However, that was a concern for another time, probably after this little skirmish was over. He could take up that concern with himself afterward.

His target had been a little vixen named Swansea. She had never belonged to him but she had been collective property of Carnevale Letale by way of Immaculate Crucifixion. Then, it seems more of Carnevale's pawns became targets. Mistake number one for the opposing creature: steal from Carnevale Letale. Mistake number two: he became a Versai, a declared enemy of the territory. Mistake number three: agreeing to fight one of her spies for the freedom of the minx. However, just because he was fighting for Swansea didn't mean he couldn't unleash an unholy evil upon the brute's hide for becoming a target just by association with the Versai. Moses despised them even though they stood on the same side of the path.

But the light walkers would never amount to anything by his standards. They claimed ruthlessness while offering protection and he had seen none of it. Sure, the stag got lucky and blocked the target. That isn't the protection he was talking about. This Versai better be ready to fight for his life and for ownership of the wench. Moses was not going to make this fight easy nor was he going to let either of them exit unscathed. Battles were not taken lightly, not even this one, although Moses just wanted the girls' toy back from the bully, so to speak. It was a nearly unfathomable thought that Carnevale Letale could ever come across a 'bully' because hell, they were the bully. Anyone else was just well, anyone else.

Shadow Moses stood inside the morgue and observed the remains of his queen's latest victim. The perfume of the decomposing soothed his soul while the constant audio of claret fluid dripping onto the tile floor kept his own blood pumping rapidly. He had been fantasizing about seeing his opponent's blood drain out over the cracked floor of the battle field since the brute proposed the challenge. No personal fouls against the other stallion, this was just the way Moses dealt with everything. Death or at least horrific injury was always a valid option for the opponent. Crimson chasms rolled over the functioning morgue's interior, noting the way the queen had aligned the corpses on the floor to let the coagulated blood trickle down to the drain in faded path ways. 'Just like the way his life force will drain from his slit jugular. Let his pathetic soul wash away the earthen sins we commit. It's all that it is good for.' Moses mused among his quiet thoughts before a subtle movement from a corpse near by piqued his interests. Corpses weren't supposed to move. Without expression, a fore scalpel lacerated the flesh of the being near where the movement occurred in its gut. Decaying flesh promptly split open and wriggling alabaster pills tumbled out in a thick wave from the new slice.

Ah, maggots.

They reminded him of the maggots that would soon be beneath his scalpels, including the sunshine consumer by the name of Luke Skywalker. At least that's what the sisterhood dubbed him. 'Is this guy a tranny? Is that why he's in with a bunch of pussies in the sisterhood? That's so cute my heart might stop --- from laughter!' A short shake of his crown pushed the mocking thoughts from his think box. He had to save his laughter for when his sights would land upon his opponent. Speaking of which, he needed to be on his way soon. The sixteen point one hand soldier dug his scalpels into the vile muck that coated the morgue flooring and was on his way out before a soft plea for help caught his attention. Russet audits twitched as a minx began to cry for his help as he passed by her on the floor. She was being crushed by the corpses strewn upon her lithe frame.

"Sir! Please help get these off of me! I can't breathe!" A soft chuckle rolled off of his larynx and into the otherwise dead silent morgue. "Don't you know where you are, darling? A morgue. What kind of creatures are in the morgue? The dead." He shook his chiseled crown before he suddenly struck her dainty golden skull with a filth coated knife. Marrow cracked beneath the force and claret and whitish pink matter splattered the floor and his limbs. The force of the strike had removed one of her spheres, too. He only noted this when it rolled down the sloped floor like a child's toy ball rolling down a hill. The muscular shadowy bay czar chuckled at the morbid thought. This 'child' was not going to chase her measly sphere as it rolled away from him but he had plans on chasing a much larger and more important target. But first, this skirmish needed taken care of over at the battle field.

Ivory tabbed pistons lifted and fell carefully in a dual beat to propel the mix blooded beast out of the morgue. The toxic slop had soaked up into his short feathering and it made it difficult to tell what hue his lower limbs were now that the claret, amber, and emerald fluids had painted his flesh. Well now that he had his 'shoes' on, he could leave. The baroque blooded hellion stepped off the morgue front entrance and loped toward the free lands where the battle field lie in wait for the commencement of their shared affliction. Sinews were battle ready and well conditioned as Moses' pillars fell and rose in swift successions. Claret pools flickered back and forth over the path that stretched out before him as he made the trek toward the free lands. The point of this battle was insignificant in comparison to the future plans he had but it was a key stepping stone and foundation block to everything else that he was preparing to do. The sanguine beast had a lot on his mind and it was nearing the time to reveal such things to his queen for her input. Then a journey to the lower parts of the world would be necessary, the Underworld specifically, for help from the world's most evil entity. But he was getting ahead of himself again!

The czar soon came upon the serenity of the blood stained terrain and its emptiness was not appealing to his thoughts. The hellion best not be kept waiting or the Versai stag would have an irate visitor within his borough. A visitor who potentially had the connections to raise Hell itself and grant the devil permission to intervene with such matters. As soon as his opponent appeared, it would be game on from here on and out. This was a war zone and it would be treated as such. "Luke Skywalker, welcome to Operation 'All Trespassers Will Be Slaughtered'." A low chuckle pushed the caustic lyrics out into the blistering wind as his opponent eventually arose over the horizon.
A devilish smirk disfigured the hellion's visage as he added, "You have my word, all actions from here on out will be done in the name of Carnevale Letale and you will know what happens to trespassers and offenders of the empire." His speech was not composed to sound menacing or intimidating. He didn't give a fuck if the stag even listened or not. It was his responsibility to say such things. The brute could not say that Moses didn't warn him although, if one had the foolish idea to dick around with the empire, Moses couldn't believe they were intelligent enough to understand common speech or even appreciate the idea of common sense. Clearly this stag had none of that.

muse | amazing
status | complete
word count | 1,485
notes | first post with him ever so, sorry it's awful.
tags | for snowy & jedi's return/luke skywalker
music | aband all ships, asking alexandria, attack attack!, suicide silence
conditions | 2 hits, 1 dodge, 300 word minimum, 3 days to reply.

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[bg=#17181C][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true] LET ME SEE REDEMPTION WIN LET ME KNOW THE STRUGGLE ENDS

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name;; luke skywalker/jedi's return
breed;; purebred tennessee walker
age;; six years
gender;; stallion
height;; 16.1 hh
alliance;; light
health;; 100%
attack(s);; two one
dodge(s);; one
attack(s)/dodge(s) explained;; raised up in a half rear and lunged to bite his right eye while throwing his front talons at his throat and chest area in their decent back to the ground. / no dodges used yet.

He had never intended for any of this to happen, and it was perhaps the funniest thing about this entire fiasco actually. He'd never been ambitious to the point of power mongering. He had never been one to spill blood in anyone's name. He had no wish to get any farther in life than where he'd been before, and he'd have been content with just being a shadow on the wall in everyone's gaze. There were no dreams of grandeur, no bids for rank, no knowledge of politics. Nothing to set this patron aside from all the other walking faceless creatures that played static songs on the earth's zephyrs and whose hearts beat in different forms of white noise. All he'd ever wanted in life was a place to call home, a safe area to raise his three children in peace and keep them safely away from the horrors of the known and the unknown. What was the saying then, that we lay the road to Hell on the intentions of the good? ...Nah, that didn't sound right, but in the current situation, it sounded like the fit. Needless to say, Jedi wasn't exactly in Hell, and chances were he'd not be going there anytime soon either. But for a pacifist soul, any bloodshed was Hell on Earth in the cruelest of ways. And the Lord on High knew that the alabaster brother of the Versai had seen enough blood.

Yet, it would seem that even a lifetime of horror was not good enough for fate to deal him a decent hand, no matter how hard he struggled or tried to grasp for one chance. Even escaping the nightmare that was that human stable was a victory that was fleeting. Gone were the tortures and agony of the whips and the chemicals, the charred flesh and the shackles and the lacerations, but the kindhearted and worn solider quickly found he had stepped from the frying pan and straight into an inferno of the likes he'd never known. In only a week's time, perhaps less than that even, the only friend he'd ever known changed. He learned the pain that was betrayal of the worst kind as his own flesh and blood turned against him. Driven half-mad by the torturous memories that plagued his nightmares every time he doused his lanterns for the night, Jedi could still see his beloved brother's crimson silhouette disappearing over the horizon if he allowed himself to think about it too long. The screams of agony as Sith held his strides up far too long and far too high as if something that wasn't there was scorching into him were forever seared into the Versai's memory banks.

That had been two years earlier, before all this chaos started to rain down, and not once had Jedi forgotten. Sometimes he thought he saw his brother amidst the shadows of certain territories in passing, or upon a far off ridge speaking with other equines. But it was always never the case, silhouettes of strangers and different voices that Jedi never once met before or ever again. His twin of half blood remained a ghost in a foreign home. Eventually the days bled into weeks, and the weeks blurred through to months; the moon-washed czar found himself passing his fifth year of life without much celebration. As the physical reminders of his history began to fade into the recesses of his darkest dreams, a new torture of another kind slowly appeared in the forefront of his problems; loneliness. For nearly a year, he'd traveled alone, wandering aimlessly through the wilds, lost and confused and learning slowly what it being a stallion meant in WE. Which no matter how you sliced it was not a good fate. You either tied yourself down in loyalty to another, stronger beast. Or you condemned yourself and became an outcast among your own kind, forced to fend for yourself against all dangers. Once or twice, Jedi had attempted to join up with a herd, but it never lasted; his own moral compass wouldn't let him see eye to eye with the devils he found himself under contract to for one reason or another.

In the end, whether by choice or not, Jedi would usually end up on his own once more. And after a year of hopping between homelands the separation was finally beginning to take its heavy toll. Perhaps that was why when the offer of a place to stay by an unusually kind Tennessee Walker king under the condition he take his pure-blooded daughters as mates, he took the offer with only a moment's hesitation. It would be a choice he would forever regret and yet never change. His 'mates' were hardly loving, and he found himself trapped in a prison cell made of a possessive bastard's ambitions for a 'pure' kingdom and loyalty to the women who now carried his children. The only way he'd been able to break free was through a freak storm and a lucky strike against his aging captor and father in law. The corpse fell without a sound in the wake of a thunderous sound off and a flash of lightning; Jedi didn't look back not once as he scattered with the rest in all different directions. Still, he'd not leave behind his mates or his children, and in the following week of freedom he sought them out. They weren't happy to see him per say, but considering they had no where else to go and their conditions, they decided to stick with him for the protection he offered.

Travel was hard with two steadily growing pregnant mates in tow, and they could never stay in one place for very long. Either Venus would get the wise idea of flirting with one of the neighborhood boys and be turned down for carrying another man's child or Dagger would just run her mouth off at the wrong time and there would be nothing Jedi could do to fix the resulting situations. Despite all the trouble they caused him, he did honestly care for Venus and Combat Dagger though, and never entertained the thought of leaving them on their own. Thoughts sadly that the two sisters often entertained and tried to practice now and then only to come running back when they found themselves in trouble they couldn't seduce or talk their ways out of. Quarrels were common place between the three for these reasons, and sometimes just because Dagger wanted to start something for nothing. Nevertheless, Jedi stood by them; being lonely with company was better than being lonely by yourself after all.

Then one day fate brought his flints to a young woman titled Miss Hollywood Legend, a chestnut splashed beauty of an American Quarter horse. He found her while taking a much-needed break from his then four-month pregnant mates while they slept beneath an oak one summer morning, and stepped in to help her get rid of another brute who didn't know the meaning of 'no'. That battle had been Jedi's first, and his first victory against anyone on equal footing. He never laid eyes on the face of that hellish beast again. As for Missy, as she preferred, the two became smitten with one another, his kind nature drawing her in and her gentle heart a welcome breath of fresh air. He welcomed her to his little group, despite the venomous protests of the racial Venus and Combat Dagger, and in only days time she was the third huntress to carry his offspring. She was perhaps the only one that was a true lover out of the three who traveled with him.

Time passed by a little easier with Missy's presence in their little caravan. While she wasn't often welcome by Venus and Dagger, she was more than happy to share time with Jedi and he with her. It was through Missy that Jedi learned of the many ways and traditions that made up WE, about the herds to avoid and the ones that could be trusted. She taught him out to speak to a lead, and how to search for kingdom borders. Everything he needed to survive socially in the territories and refining things he'd learned through trial and error. It was no wonder that he began to develop true feelings for the kindly woman not long after she joined, much to the surprising jealousy of Venus and Dagger, who had once enjoyed Jedi's undivided attentions before. Both vixens were quick to take their fury out on Missy when they thought Jedi wasn't looking, but after the first laceration appeared on Missy's face, she was never let out of Jedi's sight or left alone with the other two.

For once, with Missy's presence to help him deal with the troubles caused by Venus and Dagger, life was actually good in spite of everything else. But all good things must come to an end... and that end started with Dagger's labor. Something went horribly wrong. As she delivered his firstborn son, she bled out right in front of him, cursing his name to heaven and hell as all life drained from her bodice. Despite everything she had put him through, Jedi shed tears for her passing, blaming himself for her death and wondering if there was anything he could have done to prevent this. Missy as well shared Jedi's pain. The devastated look he wore was an ache in her heart as she tried to get him to focus on his newborn son. 'Look Jedi, he's a perlino, like you! Isn't that precious? I'll bet he'll grow up and become just like you too.' her soft and kindly lyrics still echoed in his mind-scape to this day. The very words that had got him to forgo his sorrow for a moment and welcome his new child into the world with the title Lightsaber Combat, in honor of his mother. The only one who didn't share the sorrow of Dagger's passing was Venus, who barely even looked back at her sister's cooling bodice when they moved on.

Merely days later, Venus fell into labor as well. But unlike her ill-fated sister she survived the process, birthing an amber crème champagne colt called Ares Nune... only to get up and slink off into the brush without even looking at her child. Jedi tried to call her back, tried to tell her that her son needed her, but the pleas fell on deaf harks as the ill-tempered witch vanished from view without a single word about why. Now Jedi and Missy were all that were all that were left to care for the two new colts. Thankfully Missy had begun to produce milk, just enough to ward off any hunger pangs they might experience. Sadly, two colts on a single, heavily pregnant damsel didn't mix, and the two children were too much for Missy to keep up with. Ares was too weak to keep up most of the time as it was, hardly fit for their life of travel. It was these factors what led to the bittersweet decision to leave them in the next herd they crossed by. After all Jedi had been through, he couldn't find it in himself even for his sons to take another chance under another lead brute, and Missy still wanted to see the sights of the world. Being in a herd was the one thing she felt would guarantee she never saw them.

So it was with heavy hearts that Jedi and Missy left the two colts with a nursing essa in the next herd they crossed by, thankfully one of light alliance and kind souls. Then just as silently as they arrived, they vanished together. Saber and Ares would be well taken care of in the herd, at least until they were strong enough to seek their sire out one day. Now alone, Jedi and Missy kept their travels abroad in the company of each other and only each other for a change, playing and talking and stargazing as they kept their spirits up through each other. Over this time, Missy confided to him the horrors that existed in the lands of WE. The beasts of darkness who prowled the lands at night, like the one Jedi had chased off the day they first met, and the terrors one had to endure if captured by them. This was the first taste of awareness Jedi had to the concept of slavery. And for him it sounded too much like the horror he'd endured so long ago under the hands of humans. That night, the first seeds of rebellion entered the perlino's heart, and his view on the world began to change for the first time in years.

Then at last the day arrived where Missy gave birth to their long-awaited daughter. The little buckskin paint filly's arrival was a happy occasion compared to the sorrow that her brothers' were born in. Missy survived the birth, and Padmé's Legacy, the name they chose months ago for a filly, was a strong and healthy youngster who eagerly stood up next to her father and mother, ready for adventure wherever it might be. But as was the trend, fate once more dealt Jedi a cruel hand. Over the three months since Padmé's birth, Missy grew sicker and sicker after having contact with a strange dark witch, and no amount of rest or eating seemed to cure her. Jedi tried to keep her spirits up, keep her standing, but it was no use. One day Jedi sadly awoke to find the cold corpse of his mate and his innocent four-month old daughter crying over her mother's unmoving form. Now Jedi was truly alone. Broken to the point of where he could not shed tears for Missy and having to stay strong for Padmé's sake all at once while the world seemed to crash down on him. It would take him another month before he finally found the courage to draw himself out of this shell he'd so carefully crafted around his heart.

And when that time came, he didn't softly emerge, no. He came exploding out as all his frustration and sorrow fueled his fire and thirst for justice. He wasn't sure how, but he was certain that the strange dark mare his mate had come into contact with that day was responsible for Missy's illness. And from the wicked smile he caught her sending back at him as they departed, he knew beyond all doubt she knew what she was doing. The last straw that broke the camel's back was the ebony stag held against his will in the midst of a herd of dark souls. The face of contempt he wore among his captors was so familiar to Jedi in his own captive days it was frightening. Before Jedi knew it, he had swiped the onyx czar from his captors, leading him away to safety before the lead ever knew what hit her. That captive he rescued that day was Regal, a ten-year old Arabian stolen from his herd not too long ago, placed in servitude to the Helkaer, Yvette. It was the first time Jedi had ever heard of the Helkaers, and despite his thoughts then, it would not be the last time he would meddle in their affairs.

Merely hours after they'd met and talked some, Regal and Jedi parted ways. Jedi headed back in the direction he'd left Padmé waiting in and Regal went off to search for his own foals and a home. From the impression Jedi got from him, Regal wouldn't be heading back to his old herd. In fact, last he heard of the Arab gladiator, he had become a lord of his own territory, a little piece of information that brought a smile to Jedi's velvets. It wasn't long after that Jedi had stolen yet another from slavery's grasp, this time a champagne brindle darling called Swansea. And the herd he freed her from? Carnevale Letale. Perhaps the most feared of all the dark herds despite not being a Helkaer land, which up until then Jedi had been under the impression were the equines to fear. And that little fact now, was what brought them to today. The proud cream steed stood upon his own new terras under the name of the Versai, preparing to leave them and not return until he taught a piece of scum just what he was messing with.

The chance meeting with the Lady Eros not too long ago had borne more than Jedi ever thought possible. Somehow, the Lady of the Versai, the opposites of the Helkaers, had seen something in him and offered him the chance to join the Sisterhood. It took a little convincing, but eventually he took the offer. The world was more dangerous than he or Missy ever thought. With Swansea added to their little group, pregnant and frightened out of her mind of everything, even her own shadow, and Padmé hardly able to keep up as it was in spite of her good health, Jedi couldn't afford to keep up his traveling lifestyle anymore. So without much ceremony, he became the newest addition in the Versai ranks, given his own homelands to rule and a new title to answer to, for none but the most trusted of souls could be told their real names. Jedi had asked to take up the title of Luke Skywalker; Luke being the title his late dam had titled him before the humans branded him with a different one. And Skywalker, the name of his late sire, to whom Jedi... no, Luke, had always looked up to.

For being such a large area, word traveled like wildfire that there was a new Versai in the ranks, and he meant business. Since his ascension to the Versai, Luke had raised cane in the dark herds. Attempting steals and challenging anything that so much as moved under the title of darkness and evil. Gone was the old Jedi, and in his place Luke stood, ready to die and kill for anything and anyone who so much as cried out for his help. Jedi had been compassionate before, but now he wasn't afraid to get his weapons dirty in the defense of what he thought was precious and sacred. He wasn't afraid to rebel like he'd been before. And now knew that sometimes you just couldn't talk your problems away with kind songs and promises. The ones who carried true darkness in their hearts, more often than not, could not be reasoned with that way. Should he wish to reach his first goal, he was going to have to wade through battlefields of blood, but if that was the path they wanted him to take, then so be it...

The newest addition to the Versai now stood in the middle of his home, the towers of viridian beneath his pads gently whipping at his pearl striders as his cerulean lanterns lifted up to the heavens above. Orbs changed from a deep shade of navy to a soft shade of teal as he watched the clouds float by while the wind played with the plumes of gold that rested on his curvature and chassis, raking chilly fingers through the strands. It was as if it were trying to distract him from the problem at hand and soothe the savage fury he felt burning in his breast. A noble attempt, but nothing but blood could satisfy this kind of rage. And maybe a broken bone or two from the scum of the earth that thought he could crawl into his home and try to steal away one who was under his protection! And what made it all the worse? The bastard actually had the nerve to challenge for her when Luke had caught the pitiful excuse trespassing on his turf and getting far too close for comfort to Swansea and Padmé, whom had taken a liking to the golden vixen when she joined their little caravan those few weeks ago.

But that was only the beginning of his problems towards this particular brujo. The very thought of the creep had the light lord's optics narrowing to near slits, his unique shaped inner irises constricting around his pupils as they dilated in the changing light as the sun dipped behind the fluffy barriers of crystalline water. This... this imposter came into his territory, his sacred sanctuary for the broken and the worn down, claiming of all things to follow the light alliance. And yet in the same breath, he claimed allegiance with none other than Carnevale Letale itself. Lights and that particular cadre didn't mix, no matter how you looked at it or from what angles. That little fact alone spoke volumes about the character of this particular stag. Heated carbon ejected into the atmosphere around the perlino king, enamels gritting beyond his laburnums as twin zenith fell into the cascading tendrils that adorned his crown. No matter how hard he tried, even the slightest thought of the visage of the one called Shadow Moses was beginning to boil his lifeblood in his veins. That bastard wanted a battle? Luke was going to give him a war.

'Daddy?' the little squeak of an inquiry was all that it took to break the fury. His curtains fell over his lamps in an awakening blink, regal visage lowering from the skyline to rest gazers upon the tiny bi-tone filly standing at his side. Her two-tone seekers met his own as she stared up at him beseechingly and a little frown of worry marred her pretty face. 'The bad horse isn't going to take my new mommy away, is he?'[/i] the query was enough to push a chuckle up from the gullet of the flicka's sire, his angered countenance melting away as a smile crossed over his maw. His sweet little Padmé, so innocent and gentle. Ever since he had told her about her brothers and how they found a new 'mommy' in a new herd before she was born, Padmé became obsessed with finding a new mother for herself, almost to the point of desperation. She could barely remember a time when Missy wasn't too sick to care for her properly, and while she dearly loved her dam, she also wondered what it would be like to have a mother who was well enough to care for her. Hence, when Swansea joined them, she had quickly attached herself to the champagne brindle woman. It was a sight that worked much to Luke's amusement and Swansea's apparent displeasure.

Serpentine stretched and bent towards his darling daughter to deliver a gentle nudge to her tiny dial, snorting harshly upon her crown to tickle the forelock and draw that cute little giggle from her larynx. It was effective erasing the frown and turning it upside down in a matter of seconds. No, my Padmé, not if I have anything to say about it. he promised softly, lowering his visage further to press his larger crown against the filly's wither in urging. Now go on, I'll hurry back. Listen to what Shadow and Swansea tell you, and I don't want to see that frown when I return. Just big smiles, alright? No matter the outcome. came his gentle command, giving another nudge to his little buckskin lamb to head off towards the two other members of Servo Venia. While Swansea had joined the terra with its rise, with the spread of the news came a new member titled The Shadow, a wandering vix with a trustworthy and joyous soul. She too was heavily pregnant with her firstborn, as Swansea was, but that hadn't stopped her from throwing herself in front of a beastly Helkaer that was aiming right at Luke himself. The selfless action, while earning concern from the Versai for any possible harm to either her or her unborn youth, had also earned Shadow a permanent place in his betas. She was now one of, if not the most, highest and trusted of his herd.

For a moment's breath, Padmé hesitated to heed her sire's suggestion, turning her tiny cranium towards his larger visage with a spark of concern. He met her gaze back with confidence and pride, burying the uncertainty and anger he felt beneath layers of deception. His precious flicka didn't need to know his own concerns about the upcoming fight. Even the best were to suffer loses at times, and this loss, god forbid it should happen, would strike them all hard. Her parent's feigned confidence did much to settle Padmé's troubled heart, and with a loving nip to her sire's cheek, she raced off on spindly twigs, tiny threads raised high and joyous neighing reaching for the heavenly skies for all to hear. The sight warmed Luke's heart, but it was one he would have to savor another time as he turned his form towards the darkest part of his homeland, making the trek and letting himself be swallowed alive by the misty gates that separated his world from the outside.

Sharpened knifes left grassy plains and struck the sandy ground as the stone walls closed in around him from all sides. Freedom and space became limited in the pathway of mists, the foggy water gate so thick one could barely see in front of their own faces. Pedestals of keratin slammed against dried marrow of fallen invaders with loud clicks as he strode through the graveyard of the evil, silently thanking God above that the heavy water content around him kept him from smelling the worst of the rotting flesh. Everywhere in this passage lay the bones and skeletal figures of nameless faces. Explores and invaders alike, all searching for the end of the road and finding the gateway to death instead. It was by pure luck, and some guidance from an unwitting wildcat, that Luke discovered the only safe way through to the untouched valley at the end, and only by sharp memory was he able to keep that knowledge safely secure to use again and again. Sure, sometimes an invader would get through, such as Shadow Moses had managed. But with the many twists and turning pathways leading further into the mountain range, more often than not bellicose equines fell astray. He knew of one path that led to a sheer drop, and another that brought one to a stop at a mountain cat's den; there were so many more that he'd not yet explored too. Who knew what hells awaited at the end of those walkways?

Silence and death were his lonesome and all-encompassing companions for the entire length of the trek through his home's gates, before finally a ray of welcome sunlight burst through the wall of fog. Open plains met azure seekers as he stepped from the misty world and into the wild one with more dangers that he could count. A dark look crossed his visage as he stood upon the rocky outcrop at the exit, boa moving his cranium from the east to the west as a colder, more ominous wind whipped at his silks. The earth's breath felt more like claws sinking into his flesh and tearing at his bodice, like carried on that breeze flew the intentions of all his enemies. Nares snorted viciously in rebuke towards the thought before he reached out with one dagger to step towards the walkway off the outcrop. His slender figurine moved with swan-like grace, scaling down quickly and quietly to the solid earth below. Whether or not it was possible for his enemies' to send their intentions out anywhere save for deaf harks, Luke wouldn't let them have their way. Shadow Moses would be the first example.

He took his time walking through the unclaimed terrain, quite literally forcing himself not to run straight to the spy and slam him to the unyielding battleground as hard as he could. How dare he... How dare he?! Now that he was away from the comforting presence of his daughter and far beyond the sight of Swansea and Shadow, there was nothing and no one who could calm him now, and he let his anger take hold. The bastard knew nothing, absolutely fucking nothing, about the terrors that Swansea had to endure each night. About the nightmares and the trouble she had getting to sleep, the flames she saw before her gaze each time she dared to try to rest. Traveling with her for a time had given Luke a first hand experience of his herd mate's fragile psyche; more than anything he wanted to help her get past the damage and see the light once more. It was one thing he couldn't do for her as they traveled from place to place, but now that they had a home he could begin the healing process with her. Well, at least that was the plan, until he became acutely aware of one of the perks of traveling. No one knew where you were, and no one could try to snatch away your friends from you. No such luck as an owner of a territory. Exactly why Luke would be tearing Shadow Moses apart piece by piece and sending them all crawling back to Necropolis in warning. This wouldn't be stood for. And should another of her damned unholy land showed their scales here again, they wouldn't be returning.

Time seemed to fly by as he stewed in his thoughts, braces stalking heavily towards the crimson stained and drought dried battlefield. Hard jags clicked upon the terrain and forced the dead grasses and shards of granite aside as he moved ever forward. Muscles filled themselves to overflow with tension and the eagerness to completely and totally decimate his rival here and now. The mahogany demon wasn't even in sight yet either. Normally, Luke wouldn't be this bloodthirsty or this easy to rile, but the vile monster that was threatening his friend and herd-mate just irked him in a way that none had before. He fully intended to show him what happened when you fucked with anyone from Servo Venia. The moment that thought crossed his mind-scape, lo and behold came the form of the one he wanted nothing more than to see broken on the ground and begging for mercy that Luke may or may not have. 'Luke Skywalker, welcome to Operation 'All Trespassers Will Be Slaughtered'." the Versai paid neither the bronze beast nor his scratchy static song that graded on his towers any heed, passing by the wolf wearing the lamb's skin without a single word. If he had, he feared what might happen. Despite all his animosity towards this scumbag of maggots, he would fight this battle fair and square, no cheap shots even though he'd no doubt his opponent would sink to that level. One thing about Luke; he'd never been a dirty fighter. Something no amount of anger was going to change.

Taking his place on the other side of the chosen imaginative ring, Luke turned towards his opponent and stood stock still. His features were a picture of stoicism despite the raging storm of rage that lay beneath the surface of his flesh and burrowed into the recesses of his marrow. Hot breath escaped past vermillion passages, tickling the paper-thin nares and escaping on the wind while he mentally prepared himself to deal damage and take it. Either way this turned out, Shadow Moses would not be leaving this plain unscathed. 'You have my word, all actions from here on out will be done in the name of Carnevale Letale and you will know what happens to trespassers and offenders of the empire.' a noise that sounded as close to a growl that an ungulate could make escaped the pharynx of the Versai, his dial lowering and a single talon stamping on the earth in dangerous warning. I couldn't give a fuck about your empire, you slime. And I'm going to show your queen what happens when you mess with my home, by tearing you limb from limb. and suddenly, with words spoken on barely a hiss of air torn from straining vocal cords, the pearl colored king launched in an attack. Pearls revealed and maw opened wide as he raced for his rival, he gave no warning, no chances. Lunging upon half-bent hinds for his rival's optic ridge, he'd every intention of taking out the delicate orb, ripping it from its socket if he had to. Anything to calm the storm within.

While he reached for the optic with his enamels, his knifes lunged for the exposed throat area of his opponent. He was hoping to tear out the jugular vein and watch this pathetic excuse for a colt bleed out on the ground. Yes, he was that furious now. That disgusted that this dark dare hold the light alliance and dare taint the name of the Versai allegiance with his mockery. Shadow Moses wouldn't get away with this, not as long as Luke drew breath into his chassis. He would have to run forever to avoid Luke's wrath, for there would be no place he could hide, no where he could find sanctuary, not before one of them lay on the ground rotting. Returning his weapons to mother earth with a hard thud, towers lost in waves of amber, Luke coiled his viper down and lunged in the direction left of Shadow Moses's prone form. Talons leaving the ground in a flying leap to position himself elsewhere. Ivories still showing and gleaming and lanterns alive with a raging inferno as he readied for the other side of the chess board to make his move.

With this, the war had begun...

words;; 5599 ...x.x
muse;; ...i'll let this one speak for itself...
post status;; complete [hallelujah! rejoice! xD]
ooc;; good freaking BLACKAVAR! where the underworld did this come from?! 0.0
tagged for;; vin & shadow moses
muse music;; 'worn' by tenth avenue north

I WANT TO KNOW A SONG CAN RISE
FROM THE ASHES OF A BROKEN LIFE

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[Deleted]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,1,true][atrb=width,500,true] [atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/10dfe6w.jpg,true] SHADOW MOSES

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Name- Shadow Moses
Breed- Andalusian x Welsh Cob x Mustang
Age- 3
Gender- Stallion
Height- 16hh
Alliance- Light
Health- 75% - missing his left eye and has his muzzle split open between his nares.
Attacks 1. kicked out with his hind legs at jedi/luke's approaching form
Dodges:


Even though Shadow Moses was a light himself, he still could not comprehend the appeal in the traditions of the saints. Other than the benefits of being known as charitable, humble, kind, generous, merciful, or otherwise known as a people-pleasing equine, he couldn't find the alluring qualities in it. He had no use for any of the things described above. He was not here to be liked or wanted. The shadowy bay stag did not care if he were to be despised. It was mildly better than being liked though. In his opinion, he would only live one life and if he didn't take his opportunities and risks now, he would eventually be too old to stir up trouble, calamity, and chaos. By no means had he done so yet but he had plenty of plans for such things in the future.

And what was this all for? Bragging rights? No, he had nothing to brag about or over. To have his name written down with the legends of old? Perhaps but that wasn't his primary goal. It was a cute after effect really. His primary mission was to show the other 99.999% of the light alliance that there was a "new" path to follow while still holding to their roots of sunshine and butterflies. Well, he would prefer it if they didn't but he couldn't force them to do anything...except die. Death was a different story for the brute though.

There was so much more to the light alliance than what was commonly presented to society! They could be feared equally to those of the shadowed path yet they could not see beyond their own misery and oppression to realize it. For far too many years had the darks oppressed the light followers. It was a time for change and Moses fully believed he and Sempiternal could very well hold the keys to unlocking a new army of lights and causing enough of an uprising to catch someone's attention. Perhaps it would be someone's attention before they tried to stomp out the riots but someone would hear them. Someone would see that the lights could handle themselves in conversations, battle, and the creation of empires.

The swift, ruthless cut throat style of the dark alliance was intimidating and it effectively induced fear and insecurity but, if the lights could see just past all of this, they could find that their own abilities to be just as cruel and savage. Did he think that savagery and blood shed was the way to handle every single situation? Not at all. There were times for blood and there were times for diplomacy even when handling their own kind. However, Shadow Moses would never see the other lights as a brother or sister to his heart. Especially not the measly Versai whelp he was fighting today.

The Versai were an odd bunch. It was not that Shadow Moses did not understand their purpose or their organization because he did. They were the light alliance's version of the darks' Helkaers. They represented the "stronger" side of the alliance and offered protection, peace keeping, and basically handling all of the alliance's dirty work. But there was a small problem with that. The light alliance did not have any dirty work for them to handle. Each attempt they made to even make some for themselves had not yet proven to be extremely successful.

Where were their dark prisoners? Where were their victims? Why were they not feared like the Helkaers? Most importantly, why did the Helkaers laugh at the mention of them? Simply put, someone was not doing their job properly. Shadow Moses was not proposing he could do the Versai's job better but merely just that they needed to step up their game. Honestly, the petty shit was sickening and depressing. He could do worse things than they had..in his sleep! Even as a light, he would much rather depend on the Helkaers for these things than the Versai.

What a shame then..the Versai' own kind wouldn't even look to them for assistance because of distrust and uncertainty! He certainly had no faith to put in them or even the smallest matter to confide in them with. It would be a pure disaster if he dared to let them into his head and open up the frozen heart that lay in his chest cavity. The Versai brother he was dealing with today was not a concern for the bay czar. He had fought worse demons in his dreams than anything this child could produce. It didn't matter to Moses though, he could be fighting Eos and he would treat both the exact same regardless if they were of the same caliber or not.

In all honesty, Moses did not care if they were anything alike or not. He would never see the Versai organization as his equal even through his own depravity and hellbound thought processes. There was so much more that the three year old brute could do! At this point, he just wanted to deal with this battle. But afterward? His home land would be striking open season on some top priority enemies and this guy had already earned himself on that list simply by association. Any Versai was liable to have hellish destruction and misery rain down upon them at any given time.

They were more than welcome to retaliate in their own defense. The fight had to be fair, did it not? Of course, he could fight their defenses --- he never said he had to fight fair. He was not raised to be perfect and smooth with every strike. He was not raised to leave clean cuts in his wake. Shadow Moses was brought up to play against his enemies' weaknesses and strengths. If they wanted to be the victor, they would need to pull out every single trick they ever had collected. The beast was tough. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. He did not need the constant petty assurance that he was one of the elite. He did not need to be the elitist either. His spine was strong and he would not bow or roll over to anyone for the mere purpose of giving them that satisfaction of power. Authority figures could raise hell and threaten to smash his skull into the ground and splatter bystanders with his brain matter but he would never cave in for them. If he was ever given the chance to watch a bastard or witch seethe and foam at the mouth with sheer fury over his existence, he might actually let a labrum twitch into an upward curve on one side. If they lusted for his blood upon their flesh that horribly, he almost began to entertain the idea of allowing them that gift. But no! He could not do that to his brother. He could not give up the opportunity to piss into the Versai' morning grass nor give them a good show over what their job description really looks like in living form. Ooh, is that too harsh? They could go fuck themselves if they were all upset by his minor actions. This little tiff with Luke Skywalker was going to be nothing in comparison to all the things he had plans to do to them. If the ashen cream stag had thorns in his ribs and underbelly over this, he would be better off being slaughtered first before all of the gears began to be set in motion. Despite the appeal and the temptation of the thought, it would all turn out to be a lot sweeter if the brat was still alive. Perhaps not well, but alive.

None of this would be happening right now if it his parents had not been implanted with this new 'theory' about life. No wonder the Elightenment era was so frightening for authority figures! The organ between the auds was a dangerous thing to have control over. Especially with the expectancy of a better life and change. The mind of the individual had the potential to be an unstoppable monster once set in the proper direction for calamity and catastrophes. Both of his and Sempiternal's immediate ancestors are lights. They had been raised in the traditional herd-hold that every other average light had been reared under. They had lived relatively normal lives until their mother birthed the twins. There had been other children after the twins but Moses had no idea who they were or their whereabouts at this point. If anything, he hoped they stayed out of his way now. After they had been brought into the world, their dam began to grow concern for her young monarchs and how their alliance was going to shape them for society. In her defense, she was quite the paranoid type and was undoubtedly a conspiracy theorist. But their sire was perfectly capable of intelligent thought and brilliance. He agreed with her about the valid concerns of their sons' well being and ranking in society simply due to their alliance choices. They then formed a new concept of living and nearly embalmed their brood with the thoughts, actions, and emotions of the ideal individual for what they deemed 'the Standard'.

The Standard meant it was the only ideal view of life and all of its joys, blessings, curses, and miseries. The Standard demanded that they live by the same choices as the dark alliance, allowing themselves to rise up in the public eye and be noticed by riding the coat tails of the other. It was no secret, they were attempting to trail up the dark alliance's fame and power and step over them into a new category of lights. Were they successful? It may be too early to tell but by the looks of things, they were making a pretty decent step in the right direction so far. It was not going to be a beautiful and soft journey. It would be bloody, disastrous, and painful. Shadow Moses fully expected an oppression to swing in full force back in his direction for his actions thus far. He would accept it when it came but he would never fear such things again. The oppression of the light alliance in his father's territory was enough to make anyone just want to lay down and die at the hand of another or by their own means. Here, he would never stoop to that level. He would never drop to one knee for the needs of another. He would make the masses bow at the call of his name before he would even entertain the idea of submitting to someone's smallest flash of authority. When dealing with the matters at hand here, the Standard required victory or else.

Clearly, failure was not an option for the baron and death would most certainly be an irrevocable (literally) loss. His brother and his parents would disown his name if he failed doing such a simple mission. Even though his parents did not live in Wild Equines, if Sempiternal still breathed, they would eventually know about it and his name would be erased from their think boxes forever. Even if he lost this battle and lived, he would be ostracized for showing weakness and he would be considered an unworthy defect of the family's blood. He could lose a limb or some other vital organ but as long he lived and won, it was acceptable. Past dealings with devils much worse than anything the Versai could produce flickered through this think box in fragmented images shrouded with agony and fury. The non-inheritable scars that lay faded among his flesh were not from childish sparring or puerile fights. They were from bastards and wenches that could put the Helkaers to shame. His previous battles had been few but long and exhausting with potentially fatal injuries to boot. A jagged scar that stretched over the curve of his barrel was the only clue to a foolish mistake he made in his first fight. He had failed to keep a track of where his frame was going in the midst of an intense battle and he had severely stumbled to the point of falling to the frozen ground. His opponent took the chance and split his gut open with a sharp knife. Fortunately it had not pierced the thin fibrous sac that enclosed around his organs but they bruised a couple organs with the fierce pressure. In his current youth, he still did not know everything there was to know about fighting and blood shed but he sure did know a lot already.

This battle would only add to his collection of knowledge and tactics. How many more battles would he take up in the name of Carnevale Letale though? At the moment, his response was as many as he chose to do. It was interesting --- a light with an impossible standard complex living in a dark land with a peculiar job for anyone. It had not been easy applying for the position though. Necropolis ruled her kingdom with an iron clawed fist and she was not easily impressed. She did not accept bullshit from anyone. Most likely not even from her own scions. She was not incredibly trusting of the fact that he and Sempiternal were lights. Oh yes, brother was in on this gig too. His role through being a spy was different though. Sempiternal had plenty of things to do without even beginning to deal with his own responsibilities through Carnevale Letale. Shadow Moses, however, had a much more simpler life through stealing petty pawns in order to redirect the attention of the public eye on himself and not on everyone else for a moment. His entire purpose was not to start petty shit though. No no no, there were much bigger fish to figuratively fry in this pan of Wild Equines. Between the Royals, Versai, Helkaers, monarchs and queens, spawn of infamous rulers...He had a plethora of things to do. The sixteen hand bay czar was just warming up for his first show! His target had no idea what was coming to them and not even Necropolis herself knew who his first target was. It would be a secret until he chose to reveal such pleasantries. But they would have to look closely, deception was a key player in this little scheme.

Shadow Moses could be extremely deceptive beyond his usual apron of blood and guts from the morgue. That was the typical suit he wore at home but in public? Generally speaking, there was nary a speck of blood upon his shadowy pelt. The cologne of sulfur and decomposing flesh was washed of his hide and his flints were nearlying shining from the vigorous scrub against the river stones. But today, his outfit was much different. Toxic muck coated his flints and claret clearly stained his inner limbs where his pelt lightened up. Ebony sails were tangled with bone marrow and briars found by the queen's garden of the dead. He wasn't entirely sure where the fragments of bone came from unless they were from mercilessly slaughtering and beating the little dove to Hell and back after she had been caught without invitation. The sound of her enamels being forced from their rooted homes in her jaw bone and bouncing off the old plastered wall of a building echoed in his think box. It had only taken a couple kicks to do that. In his opinion, she was a lot more attractive when she was dead.

Shadow Moses did not have to wait incredibly long for his opponent to appear just upon the horizon. Good. He did not like to be kept waiting and aggravating the young stag was not on anyone's "Good Idea" list. An invory dipped flint struck at the hardened ground sharply in mild impatience as the opposing stag soon closed in on the circle pit that Moses had claimed for the day's battle. The ashen cream baron then stood on the opposite side of the pit where Moses calmly stood. Thick slabs of muscle were wound tight around his living vessel and he was relatively conditioned for the streneuous actions of a battle. If this fight would prove to be a longer one, he could potentially wear out faster than his opponent but hopefully his adrenaline would keep that from happening. It was completely okay if he dropped to the ground in exhaustion once the blows had been dealt and it was all over. He wouldn't admit that it had happened before though. Midnight stained harks swiveled smoothly upon his crown like twin satellites as they honed in on Ra'zac's every single move and breath. Voids narrowed upon the beast's ribcage as it rose and fell with his disturbed breathing. His opponent was not calm and collected. No, he was infuriated.

"Your fury is adorable. C'mon puppy, play with me." Moses muttered without his expression shifting from stoicism. If he had a soul, it might have merged into mockery and glee. But glee was too much of a pleasant feeling for the spy. Paper thins flared momentarily and the darker stained stallion raised his crown for a moment to size up his opponent. They were the same height but Shadow Moses held a little bit more weight in his blades and pelvis through the large muscles that had developed. Larger muscles did not mean that he was any stronger though. If anything, the two stags were most likely equally matched. After Moses had uttered the phrases he swore to Necropolis he would say, the sunshine and butterfly lover retorted with his own set of baritones. " I couldn't give a fuck about your empire, you slime. And I'm going to show your queen what happens when you mess with my home, by tearing you limb from limb. " Ah, he found Moses to be 'slime'? That's precious, he had never done anything to deserve such a cheerful of a name in comparison to the other names and titles he already received. The dark bay hellion did not even bristle at the mention of his queen nor the improper assumption that he owned Carnevale Letale. There was no need for it. This guy clearly did not know Necropolis at all. Either that or she was just severely misunderstood.

"Clearly you are too blind to see that we are simply returning the favor that you so generously welcomed us to. Steal from us, we steal from you. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth." Moses mused in complete serenity as the stag across the circle pit from him suddenly began to charge right for him. The first wave of minor oppression was here. Like always, he accepted and embraced such things. This time, he meant that literally. Once his opponent was close enough, Ra'zac lunged toward his crown and Shadow Moses rose up toward the zephyr to meet his first melee assault. Chiseled crown tightened back against his viper to protect his potentially exposed jugular vein as it now throbbed with the vicious pumping of the vital life force. In his peripheral vision, he suddenly became aware of the yellowed enamels jutting out toward his left orb. He could not duck out of the way now. His living corpse steeled up in anticipation of the blow and harks snapped back under his ebony tresses. Suddenly, sharp intense jabs of agony were sent from his eye socket and to his think box in almost a blinding manner.

At the time, he didn't realize how ironic that was. The pressure was incredibly intense around his socket and a sharp cry of mangled pain and bitterness left his larynx as the bone chipped around his visionary. Claret fluid poured from the wound and with a sharp audible snap of jaws closing back together, his orb was torn from its hollowed home. A gut wrenching sensation was sent through Moses' form as he felt the optic nerve be severed and he was mildly aware that the tip of the nerve was hanging outside of his socket, being thoroughly irrigated with blood and vitrous fluids. When he said 'eye for an eye', he meant it in a different sense but he was sure that Necropolis would not have any qualms about jabbing out Ra'zac's eye. Or heart.

Blood gushed down the side of his dial and filled the crinkles of his labrums, forcing him to spit out the blood with a sharp snort. The rush of carbon dioxide being forced through his nasal passage on his left side echoed hollowly now that his sinus tunnels were open to the outside world. "You would be incredibly foolish to believe that Necropolis would not find you and do the very same thing to you. Or the ones you love, like your darlings that supposedly hold a rank in your territory? Ohh what are their names..Lightsaber something or other..You don't think you aren't putting a massive target on their backs right now?" Eerie laughter rolled off his tongue as his opponent's flints began to grapple for the chance to slice open his nape. However, when he had risen up to meet his assault in the first place, he had tucked his crown down toward his nape to protect himself. This was the deciding factor on if he would lose his eye or not. Protect the vital organs and sacrifice the lesser of the two evils.

But he did not escape the second part of Ra'zac's attack without injury either. Sharp flints struck his charcoal muzzle, splitting the tender flesh between both paper thins. Bone marrow and bloody muscle tissue could be seen in full high definition color as his labrums curled back in another snarl of agony. Now lightning strikes of pain checkered his entire skull before morphing into an entire aching and throbbing appendage with each swivel of his crown upon his vertebrae. As soon as his enemy touched back down to the ground, he lunged forward again with fangs bared. This time, Moses was prepared to remedy the lack of his own attack. The dark bay beast landed upon fore pillars and pivoted with a swift swing of his hind quarters in Ra'zac's direction as his bloodied and eyeless crown took a sweeping dive toward the ground. Hind swords curled up under his rising back end before striking out when Ra'zac was closest to him. Hopefully, he struck the beast. He did not care where he struck the creature as long as he planted one or both powerful limbs into his form.

This was fun! Wild Equines had some fun creatures to offer to spar with, in his opinion. It was mildly entertaining now. Ra'zac was furious and Moses could really give two shits less to be even remotely irritated. He was more internally irate at himself for not developing a better strategy than this. He had just lost his fucking eye to someone who was scarcely worth the trouble. Fuck, Necropolis would not be happy about this. Once his hind knives struck the ground, Shadow Moses spun around to face his opponent as quickly as possible to keep his spine from being vulnerable for too long. The swift motion of his body pivoting again sent blood flying into splatters upon the cracked earth, staining the ground a deep rusty claret hue. Salmon pink tongue glazed over his labrums to clean them up his own blood resting on them in droplet form.

Harks still lie beneath ebony tapestries as his now single crimson void rolled in its own socket as he kept his opponent in check on his right side. Now he had to worry about his left side being open to attack since he could no longer see. Limbs moved quickly to keep Ra'zac on his good side at all times as blood continued to trickle over his chiseled features. His entire skull throbbed in agonizing pain and the sensation of the wind moving over his hollowed out socket was just bizarre. Hopefully Necro could put something in its place or sew it up so he wouldn't have to deal with that annoying shit for the rest of his life.

muse | none
status | complete
word count | 4,012
notes | none.
tags | for snowy & jedi's return/luke skywalker
music | abandon all ships, asking alexandria, attack attack!, suicide silence
conditions | 2 hits, 1 dodge, 300 word minimum, 3 days to reply.

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[bg=#17181C][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true] LET ME SEE REDEMPTION WIN LET ME KNOW THE STRUGGLE ENDS

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name;; luke skywalker/jedi's return
breed;; purebred tennessee walker
age;; six years
gender;; stallion
height;; 16.1 hh
alliance;; light
health;; 88% - an old injury in his left fore leg began acting up during his attack, hindering his movement to a degree where he ended up taking moses' attack to the right shoulder and flank. the attack left a large laceration across the shoulder blade and a bruise on his flank with a possible fracture in the right humerus from the force, making movement painful.
attack(s);; two one zero
dodge(s);; one
attack(s)/dodge(s) explained;; unable to attack thanks to an old injury.

======

Why exactly this war dance was taking place, Luke couldn't comprehend in the least. And he'd long given up trying to. The beast on the other side of the battle pit was not his enemy before. They had not even known each other until now, and had no reasons to clash. The bloodied stag might have just gone his own way and Luke wouldn't have cared less or even glanced in his direction. But the what could have been was long gone in a whirl of insanity. Shadow Moses had sealed his fate the second he stepped towards Swansea with malicious intent. And if he thought Necropolis was bad, he was about to find out just how wrong he was. For without a doubt the cocky colt had not before faced against someone who had experienced the pain of abuse and loss as Luke had. Had not faced against someone who was so broken he could not, would not, be broken anymore. No matter what happened. And when all was over, Shadow Moses would understand why you didn't fuck with people like that. People who had everything to lose and yet had nothing at all. People who would sooner kill you than look at you for merely trying to muck in their lives.

Of course the beasts of the wilderness wouldn't know about the horrors of captivity. Wouldn't know of the things that would make even the most battle hardened of equines weep in fear. How could they? How could any of them know the pain that lasted for nights on end? The agony of standing on a hard stone floor tied up on all sides while foul liquids cooked into your flesh from beneath silver sheets? Yet at the same time being unable to lay down and relieve the pain for fear of repercussions far worse than what you had experienced? Did they understand the lasting sting of the stick against your face? The sharp pain of the clamps on your flesh? The burns from the fire on your tongue? No. But Luke knew them all better than anyone born in this untamed world could and would ever know them. And nothing his new home had to offer would ever compare to that freak show. The scars had healed, that world left far in the dust. But the memory remained. So vividly shown across the mind's eye, both in the waking and the dream lands. Reminders of what had been. And what would, for him, never be again.

Those reminders were why he stood so fearlessly and angrily in front of the imposter, why he so recklessly charged him head on. Because there was nothing to fear from this toddler, nor the one who held his leash. What could they do that was worse than what the humans did to him? Kill a member of his family in front of him? The humans had already done that to his mother. Torture him? Humans beat them there too. Kill him? Yeah, whatever. At least he knew where he was going after death. Much more than he could say for this confused soul. One who spoke that he followed the righteous path, yet stepped in tune with the most sinister of evils. It was honestly too much for Luke to understand fully. But nevertheless it enraged him all the same. He could barely get by the thought of this cretin infiltrating innocent, peaceful herds and accepted under false assumptions. Then merely watching themselves be torn apart from the inside out by one they trusted. It hadn't even happened yet, but it was a possibility. More than enough for Luke.

***So it was the sweetest of satisfactions that raced through the ivory robed Versai when he felt hardened enamel meet soft, pliable flesh. Without a moment's hesitation, he lurched his cranium back, and reveled in the result. Crimson warmth splashed against his muzzle, and the feeling of something breaking within his iron-clad grip swept a grim joy through his beating heart. A heart that many would remember as bleeding, but only few would understand as being made of stone. Regrettably, the other half of his assault didn't reach its intended target. His rival was not on the way to Hell, but he wasn't going to complain. Not when he felt his sharpened talons rip through paper flesh so deeply. There would be absolutely no chance for it to heal without leaving behind a scar. Quite frankly that was all Luke could wish for. Perhaps it would serve as a reminder about what became of everyone who stepped up against him.

Another minor regret he could live with; Luke didn't escape his opponent without his own battle wounds. As he leaped for another place, he caught sight of Shadow Moses' own weapons flying in his direct. But there was nowhere to dodge. And not enough time to move either. A great pain ripped at the Versai brother's left column as he felt his talons land on the broken soils of the earth. One he was all too familiar with. 'Damn it! Not now!' of all the times for this. Of all the times his past could come back to strike. It had just had to strike now. The feeling of muscle fibers tearing and straining against marrow was no stranger to Luke. The injuries of lifting a column too high whilst carrying something too heavy below the knife just for human amusement. And it was this that caused him to take Shadow Moses' attack without resistance.

Sheer agony raced through Luke's bodice. Flesh ripping against his wither in a deep laceration and a nasty bruise set to appear on his flank as the dark's talons met their uncertain mark. The force combined with his own movements caused the stag to stumble. Had he not caught himself in time, he would've fallen from his balance. Breath came out in labored pants. Almost vicious in their force from his paper thins as strings of absolute misery rushed up from all sides. Claret fluid flooding down his ivory coat in a river from his wither. Along with a sickening crackling that came from his chest every time he tried to move. A fracture maybe? He couldn't think straight long enough to figure it out.

Tentatively, he tried to raise his piston heavenwards in a test. Only to slam it back down and attempt to see through the haze and stars that clouded his vision. There was no thought to his brain pan now. Only the dominating, gut wrenching pain. Stabbing and twisting in ways he couldn't even describe. Strange that the wound had long since healed, yet could make his life a living Hell if he moved the wrong way. There was absolutely no way he could fight now, not like this. Damn it...

Glancing up at his opponent, he couldn't bite back the chuckle that escaped his maw. Allowing a grim smile to cross his velvets at the sight of the eyeless socket he'd left in his attack. Now what was that about 'eye for an eye' and being blind? the tone of mocking in his song couldn't be denied as he allowed another chuckle to escape. He'd not paid much attention to what the other had said during the exchange, but he certainly remembered those words being spat in his direction. I cannot walk correctly, and I doubt you'd like to take the chance without your eye... so shall we end it now? it was not the ending either had probably imagined. But current circumstances dictated otherwise. The only question now was who had done the most damage?

======

words;; 1264 (not including the ***)
muse;; could be better...
post status;; complete
ooc;; the stuff with the *** is what i posted on march 19th at 11:19pm. it can be disregarded if shorty agrees vin won by default. if shorty says otherwise however, i'd like that the battle be judged now as luke cannot continue to fight thanks to his old injury and shadow moses is now missing an eye. edit;; nevermind. <3
tagged for;; vin & shadow moses
muse music;; 'worn' by tenth avenue north

I WANT TO KNOW A SONG CAN RISE
FROM THE ASHES OF A BROKEN LIFE

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[Deleted]

I'm sorry Snowy dear but your time is up. Vin's last reply was Mar 15, 2013, 6:09pm. It is now Mar 19 9:30 pm. Three days have come and gone and you have not finished your post. By default, Vin with Shadow Moses wins.

[Deleted]

ooc: i thought i had three days to finish my post. i posted it on the seventeenth... i thought i still had three hours left... *sighs*

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[R0man Num3ral5]

By my time it says that Vin first originally posted Mar 16, 2013, 10:09am then she I assumed she finished her post by edit on

« Last Edit: Mar 16, 2013, 2:35pm by vin. »

Snowy posted Mar 17, 2013, 3:18pm

Right now by my time it is 1:04PM 20th of March

So there is time left

[Deleted]

Okay so let me recap here(I'm going off of what was said in the cbox just now). According to Vin's time, Shizzy's time and my time, Snowy's time is up. If I'm not mistaken, by Snowy's time, she still has what...3 hours left? Obviously, according to R0man, Snowy still has time, too. It's time timezones messing people up here. I think most people have the same time set on their WE profiles so if that's the case, Snowy is out of time in the eyes of almost everyone here. I'm not sure who changes their timezones in their profile and who doesn't but assuming no one does, Vin wins by default.

According to me, Vin's post was done on the 15th and it is now the 19th. The deadline for finishing that post is long gone.

I still think Jen should look over this to give the final verdict because I'm not in the position to tell the outcome here. It's too complex a situation.

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[R0man Num3ral5]

My profile is set to my time which is how I was able to put the times up otherwise I would not have bothered xD

So yeah going by my time and the time I have set on WE (which is mine again lol) she still has one and a half hours left give or take a few minutes =)

Yeah Jen should =)

[Deleted]

Jen may not be back until the end of the week or longer. She is having some pains and I think she is getting close. Plus Dakotas family is down. I will send her a message and see what she says but she may not be able to do much.

[aliyaah]

If Jen can't do it, then Ebon or Tally should make the final verdict.

[/blockquote]

[Deleted]

I sent her a message and i'll let you guys know what she says. But Ebon and Tallys say may help out in this matter to go along with jens say.

[Deleted]

With battles you have three days after your opponent post to get your reply up before you lose by default. Just because you posted an WIP does not count. It' needs to be finished.

Ebon, Tally or Jen have the final say since their seems to be a time zone issue.

[Deleted]

Sorry so I'm on my phone so it might be choppy. Time zones don't matter because how We is set up. With the time set you can look at the posted time and it shows in the time zone you have it set so it shows up as you need it to for these sorts of things. Vin finished her edit at 10:35 pm off my time zone. Snowy finished hers at 10:19pm on my time zone on the third day therefore it would be considered valid because she finished it before the time was up.

[Deleted]

Thanks Jen. And I would like to post once more since it does not matter to me that Moses is missing an eye. The injuries he has sustained dl not make him unable to fight. I also habr an attack left i would like to use. I dont see why it should be judged at this very moment just because of injuries. I think it is a fair request for me to ask that. So please do not judge this until I post.

[Deleted]

ooc;; okies, vin. <3 i was just saying that since this fight was causing so much trouble. <3 i would also like one more post to use the dodge, as jedi is unable to attack now.

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[Deleted]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,1,true][atrb=width,500,true] [atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/10dfe6w.jpg,true] SHADOW MOSES

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Name- Shadow Moses
Breed- Andalusian x Welsh Cob x Mustang
Age- 3
Gender- Stallion
Height- 16hh
Alliance- Light
Health- 75% - missing his left eye and has his muzzle split open between his nares.
Attacks 1. kicked out with his hind legs at jedi's approaching form & 2. lunged right for his face head on with his fore hooves striking out at his frame as he was coming down to the ground to land

Shadow Moses was not done. Regardless if he had lost one vital organ for vision, he was not through with this pretentious and 'all those in need, come to me' complex bastard. If it would even remotely soothe the entity inside the shadowy hued beast, he might try to unravel all protection and safety that lies within the name of this Versai. What was the ashen cream beast going to do if by some chance, all of his pretty trinkets and jewels were to suddenly be swept away from him in a great dark storm? The mere thought could spark a mission for the spy but he had many other creatures to contend with soon. For now, the Versai was relatively safe from Moses' recoil from the loss of his eye as well as the potential of losing this battle. If he lost, Swansea would be out of his grasp for a few more months. He would also have to deal with an unhappy Necro and that was more embarrassing than losing a gamble over a toy.

But then again, that would require Moses having the heart to care, didn't it? Some would argue that obviously he cared if he was at the battle. No, in all honesty, he was here to fuck everything up for whoever he pleased. If this put a wrinkle in the Versai's day, that still wasn't good enough. But if it wasn't, Moses still had the rest of his life span to make sure this stag would remember Carnevale and leave a foul taste in his maw as soon as the thought crossed his mind. Could he guarantee that he would be successful at that? No. But that only gave him a great reason to outdo himself over and over again.

After he had set up his attack in his think box, the execution was less than smooth or streamlined. Talons squabbled for contact with flesh before they struck their mark. Sharp edges lined with decomposing flesh from the morgue sliced into tender flesh and strong muscle fibers. Moses had no idea if his filthy knives were potentially infectious upon injury or not, it didn't matter to him that much. The simple fact was that he did strike the brute and caused some damage. He wasn't certain of how much damage though as he now whirled around to protect his own spine. Pain still seared from the open socket on the left side of his skull and his crown was held in an awkward half turned position so he could keep his still usable sphere on his opponent. Flints constantly worked to keep his frame moving and out of harm's way as sweat began to form along his frame from constant exertion. Fatigue was slowly beginning to set in but the adrenaline and agonizing pain kept him from feeling it for the most part.

But there was no need for the beast to keep moving as he watched the Versai struggle to stay upright. A sore limb seemed to be the issue. Pity. The fight wasn't over yet, pussy. Moses was not going to stand down just because the brute was hurt. Luke Skywalker then turned and a chuckle escaped from his larynx freely. Now what was that about 'eye for an eye' and being blind? The mockery in his baritones was purely childish. Oh look how cute he thinks he is. Salmon pink tongue snaked out to sweep blood droplets and vitrius humor from his labrums before speaking, "I have yet to take your eye however, the unholy temptress will be aware of your sins." Subtly cryptic lyrics rolled out easily without a second thought. He didn't care if the beast understood him or not. Necropolis was the only one who needed to understand anything at this point. I cannot walk correctly, and I doubt you'd like to take the chance without your eye... so shall we end it now? This time, a low chuckle like the roll of distant thunder left Moses' larynx. Did this stag think he was going to bow down to the thought of a compromise? This wasn't how Moses played his game and he most certainly wasn't going to change just because the piss ant stallion couldn't "walk correctly".

Fuck that, he could bitch to Blackavar and Paige when Moses was done with him. He didn't specify the Underworld leaders because Moses was pretty certain that this runt would never even make it into Hell by the skin of his teeth. "Awwww, did the baby hurt himself? How sad. Oh his opponent should take pity on him! The poor soul!" Moses' lyrics sang out in sheer mockery and a taunting tune. He then began to stalk closer toward his opponent, his cranium lowering as his boa snaked out and he began to side pass the Versai to the right. Enamels were shown as labrums curled back in a blatantly aggressive snarl. Aggression had not been a part of Moses' demeanor before now and he was merely displaying it because he could. What was the cock sucker going to do? Fight? Haha that's funny!

Once the spy was at his closest possible range that his opponent would allow, Moses lunged straight for his cranium with jaws wide open and fangs snapping as long limbs struck out toward his opponent in order to catch himself when he returned to the ground. It would end up being extra damage by due process if his talons dug into any more flesh and bone on his way down. "You 'threaten' me with such high prices of infuriating your pussy ass and daring to touch your sparkling castle and expect me to bow down to a compromise just because your body is fucked up? You are a fool, boy, if you think anyone within Carnevale will bow to such a measly rat as you and your fallacious suggestions. We will not bow to you, we will not break under your false power, you are nothing to us and you never will be more than a puerile joke in our harem. Go ahead, take your wounded pathetic ass home to Eos and bitch and cry like a little girl to all of the Versai."

Not a single lyric was hissed harshly but the meaning was nonetheless defiant before he added one final comment, "Go ahead, collect the sisterhood and bring them to Carnevale's door step. No pussy footing around. No stealing or challenges. Bring them all to our door step and then we will see who is the last equine standing when a foolish Versai decides to bite off more than he can chew out of the dark empire." Cackling lyrics allowed the dare to roll from his labrums in sheer honesty. Go ahead, let him run home to the sisterhood and bring them to Carnevale Letale. The dark empire had deeper roots and more secretive alliances than what the fools were aware of. Shadow Moses was certain that if the stallion chose to do as he asked, this battle could be long over and then the real Olympian could be crowned victorious in a fair match of his side versus Luke Skywalker's side. As far as he was concerned now, this little piss poor fight was through and the real games could begin.

muse | not at all there
status | complete
word count | 1,214
notes | none
tags | for snowy & jedi's return/luke skywalker
music | none
conditions | 2 hits, 1 dodge, 300 word minimum, 3 days to reply.

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[Deleted]

[bg=#17181C][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true] LET ME SEE REDEMPTION WIN LET ME KNOW THE STRUGGLE ENDS

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name;; luke skywalker/jedi's return
breed;; purebred tennessee walker
age;; six years
gender;; stallion
height;; 16.1 hh
alliance;; light
health;; 81% - an old injury in his left fore leg began acting up during his last attack, hindering his movement to a degree where he ended up taking moses' first attack to the right shoulder and flank. the attack left a large laceration across the shoulder blade and a bruise on his flank with a possible fracture in the right humerus from the force, making movement painful. this was further aggravated when he reared back from the attack and fell on his spine, leaving it slightly sore from the impact. in the stress of the moment, capillaries in his nostrils burst and began bleeding.
attack(s);; two one zero
dodge(s);; one
attack(s)/dodge(s) explained;; unable to attack thanks to an old injury. / reared up on his hind legs to avoid the attack and fell on his back in the movement.

======

TThe exact foolery of such a request didn't strike Luke until after his larynx sang it. Why he was expecting a courtesy any true light would give another from a dark masquerading as a pure heart was beyond his comprehension. The best answer he could give himself was the pain. Yes, his mind was hazy from the pain. That fit perfectly. Still, it was out in the open. And curse that part of him that was actually hoping the beast would take the offer for that one fleeting moment. Right then and there, it all could have ended. The mahogany beast had permanently lost one of his voids in this struggle. Luke had lost the chance to launch another assault when his column had begun to crumble beneath his weight. Both were serious injuries. And both were the kind neither would be able to come back from easily. In time, Luke's piston would heal up as it had before, if not completely as usual. Holding out for another time and place until he managed to strain it again someway. Shadow Moses would also, regrettably, recover in his own way too. Learning how to live with one good lantern to shine a ghastly light along his twisted path. The only regret Luke had at the moment was that he'd not be able to douse the second one in the same way.

But for all the damage he'd managed to give his enemy, it meant nothing of the sort if it didn't garner him a win today. Losing was not an option he could accept easily or lightly. Not when there was something so important on the line. There were many who could end up in this exact place in a fight, injured and unable to move an inch left or right, and they'd just walk away with nothing but a shake of their cranium and in "I'm sorry..." for the one they had tried to defend. Luke was not one of those leads. Never was, never would be. If and when someone came under his protection, he would gladly take a fucking bullet for them if it meant they could live free and happy another day. The thought of death didn't scare him. Not when he knew where he and his children were going in the end. A place where they couldn't be harassed or touched by evil. Where peace reigned for the weary. But what he didn't know was where those he called 'friend' would be going at the end of their days. Would they be judged pure and worthy? Or cast out of Blackavar's sight without a single word? The very thought was enough to send a shudder through the injured Versai's spine.

The instinctive reaction to the horror before his mind's eye was instantly regretted. The jar to his bodice had sparkling stars and nameless shades of the rainbow flashing before his gaze. Both his frontal pistons were firmly on mother earth, trying to halt anymore pain from shooting up through his marrow and into his brain pan. From beneath his flesh he could feel the muscle fibers of each stake pulse with each beat of his straining heart. The adrenaline rush from all this excitement still had not faded from his being, perhaps the only thing keeping him upright besides his own innate stubbornness. But that wouldn't be for much longer soon enough. He could already feel the trembling moving from his fore-limbs up to his chest. Pretty soon he'd not have even the balance, let alone strength being sapped away from him little by little, to keep upright under his own power. Harks peeked up from beneath the waves of amber that adorned his crest whilst he relaxed his orbitals. Slowly allowing himself to break through the fog blinding his field of vision. While he could not move that good, his opponent certainly had no limitations of the sort.

How strange was this. It was such a short fight, yet it had cost them so much each. Azure lanterns turned to gaze at the gash running along his flesh, left by the blood stained daggers of Shadow Moses himself. The only break in his pristine robes. Scarlet life flowed in a shallow river, trickling down to paint both hide and earth red. He wasn't exactly certain he would be free of the risk of infection. There was no telling where or what that monster had cut his weapons into before this battle. And the horror stories of Necropolis and her unholy land were not much comfort in that respect. Still, Servo Venia was known for its fresh, clean water. That had to count for something in keeping sickness at bay. "I have yet to take your eye however, the unholy temptress will be aware of your sins."[/s][/i] Gaze swiveled back with an inaudible snap towards his rival, ivory towers lowering back to the regal stag's crown as he took in the almost lopsided appearance of his enemy. Again, he let a chuckle go freely. Despite it all he just couldn't help but find it strangely humorous.

The way Shadow Moses was holding his dial, the sweat forming over his silhouette. Yes, all of it was humorous to the pearl king. He supposed he could blame it on the pain again. Push it all on to the mind numbing agony coursing through his veins. But that was not entirely true. The way Shadow Moses had acted earlier, like he was going to send Luke to Utopia in this little scuffle. Yet who was the one carrying the most grievous battle wound? What a cute colt you are, acting like you and your master are so big and bad. he panted out, larynx straining with rough lyrics. You aren't anything special. One day soon she'll tire of you, and then that eye of yours will be the least of your worries. And one day, she'll die too, no doubt slaughtered herself in a war she caused. Face it, you're as mortal... as I am. The only difference between us is that I'm keeping both of my eyes. his enamels had clamped together then. Gritting and grinding against each other as another wave of pain overcame him and he began to stumble. There wasn't much time left... but hell if it didn't stop him from smirking mockingly back at the pitiful excuse of a horse before him.

That grin faded when a low chuckle escaped Shadow Moses' own throat. "Awwww, did the baby hurt himself? How sad. Oh his opponent should take pity on him! The poor soul!"[/s][/i] Slowly, the tendrils of the beast began to stride closer to him, and every muscle in his bodice seized up in readiness despite the pain. He'd not bother commenting on that little mockery there. Shadow Moses just simply wouldn't understand that horror, and he'd rather not scar the colt with nightmares. As the three-year old began to approach his right flank, he started showing off, displays that merely had Luke rolling his optics in annoyance. Look how tough the little one is. Too bad that eye takes all of it away. Hard to look menacing when you're trying to intimidate the one who took your eye out. sure, it was probably stupid considering his vulnerable position without any means of attacking back. But in all honesty, hyped up on adrenaline and stress, Luke couldn't care at this point.

For a few tense moments, Luke merely watched... and waited. Whilst he wasn't able to attack, he still had a trick to use. The only thing he needed was the exact right timing. And that 'perfect' moment came when only seconds later Shadow Moses struck out, baring his fangs and raising his weapons. It was impossibly close. But as the mahogany brute made his attack, Luke made his last move. Muscles tensed completely as he used his last bit of strength to rear up on his hinds, searing white-hot pain racing straight up to his cranium with the movement. He'd had to push himself up with his injured front talons. A risky move, but it paid off as he managed to avoid the vicious attack of ivories and fangs. But during the sudden movement, Luke temporarily lost all his vision to agony. Colors mixed together in a blinding light as balance left him completely. Rearing too far back and far too fast. The next thing he knew his spine hit the earth with a hard 'thud'. Cream bodice immediately rolling over on to his uninjured left shoulder and ending with him rolling on to his stomach. Alright, probably not the best of ideas.

Anguish was the only thing he felt as he came down from the rush. Vision slowly returning to his lanterns as the colors and blinding lights began to fade away. Almost listlessly, he kept his crown against the earth. Ivories gritting so hard against each other he was certain they'd shatter. Optics reopened themselves - when had they been closed in the first place? - to stare up defiantly at his tormentor who's vocals had started making more white noise. Through the painful ringing in his audits, he couldn't make much out except a few words, such as 'run' and 'Versai'. Shut your pathetic yapping, I'm trying to catch my breath and your noise is grading on my harks. he snorted weakly, moving his dial to look straight at his rival as he forced the words from his gullet. He wasn't sure if he interrupted him or not. He just wanted that noise to stop at the moment. I'm not running anywhere, or to anyone. Unlike you, who will be running straight to your beloved mistress about your poor pathetic eye. here he took in a deep breath of oxygen, trying to calm his frazzled, pain-racked nerves. The fight was over, and Luke had done his honest best considering the circumstances.

But was it enough to keep Swansea safe? He hoped so...

======

words;; 1654
muse;; kinda good.
post status;; complete
ooc;; i actually watched a documentary on wild horses where this happened - the stallion reared back too far and lost his balance. thankfully he was okay... jedi however, is a little less than okay.
tagged for;; none [battle is ready for judging]
muse music;; 'worn' by tenth avenue north

I WANT TO KNOW A SONG CAN RISE
FROM THE ASHES OF A BROKEN LIFE

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[aliyaah]

I will tally.

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[aliyaah]

[ R E S U L T S ]

SNOWY WITH JEDI'S RETURN

Quality of Quantity: 9.5
Comments:

• Your long post didn‘t hold my attention through it all. It‘s amazing post! Fantastic job but in a battle this was more quantity than quality.
  
• In the first post, the length is impressive but it kind of loses me. A lot of it is Jedi's history and it seems like it's there for the sole purpose of the post being long. The others aren't so lengthy, though.
  

No God Modeling or Power Playing: 14
Comments:

• None

Realism of Attack: 12
Comments:

• Attack was realistic, but nothing special
  
• I feel that the dodge was a little unrealistic. If he fell over after rearing, Moses very easily could have lunged forward a little and mauled him while he was down. At the same time, however, the reappearence of an old injury is a realistic touch.

Attack Compared to Opponent: 13
Comments:

• Everything was a-okay, as far as I can tell.
  
• Very weak compared to Opponent

Completion of the Form: 15
Comments:
Spelling and Grammar: 11
Comments:

• Minor spelling mistakes, nothing that annoyed me. Can see improvements in your writing.
  
• There was some lengthy sentences and some sentences didn't have correct capitalization.

TOTAL: 74.5

VIN WITH SHADOW MOSES

Quality of Quantity: 11.5
Comments:

• Posts hold my attention quite well. Sometimes I got a little bit feeling for quantity over quality but over all an interesting reading.
  
• Slightly lengthy, but I found myself enjoying the read. The other posts were the prefect length, in my opinion.

No God Modeling or Power Playing: 14
Comments:

• Everything looked fine to me! I liked the detail put into how Moses took each injury and how it was mentioned throughout the battle, instead of just forgotten about. Good job.

Realism of Attack: 15
Comments:

• Realistic attacks but I was always waiting on the attack that would take my breath away.
  
• Again, I will reference the attention to detail. The fact that during Moses' second attack, he had his head turned at an angle due to his missing eye shows meticulous attention to detail. Kudos for that!

Attack Compared to Opponent: 15
Comments:
Completion of the Form: 15
Comments:
Spelling and Grammar: 12
Comments:

• Minor spelling and grammar mistakes, very normal. Clearly improvements.
  
• The only thing I saw was a couple mispelled words. Otherwise, everything looked fine.
  

TOTAL: 82.5

Congrats to Vin with Shadow Moses

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