chemical x

It had not taken long for the spiced femme to catch wind of whispers lacing the air. Secrets hard kept over entertainment unlike any other deep within the clutches of Perth, though what one did not disclose was exactly what such excitement may entail. Curiosity alone enough to draw her paces toward those dense forests to delve into mystery. Fantastical tales she could not find disappointment in as she crept through the underdark - tailing a man who was none to discrete in his own movements - only for a world below to unfurl before her very eyes.

Locale not much different than the depths of the guild she ran with and yet hardly did pilfered goods litter the tables. Rather a tantalizing spread lay out for those who held coin. Alcohol, assorted goods, and various seasoned meats decorating temporary stalls though past the quiet drone of markets rose the roar of a crowd. A spectacle unfolding beneath the spray of ichor, entangled in the snarl of battered bodies; everything blending together in a cacophony of sound and yet Raiden found herself transfixed. Focused upon a familiar face leaving the ring. Rue. She would need to try catching up with the shadowed woman once weeping injuries were tended to but for now a touch of recklessness would get the better of her.

A false calling dripping from her lips, a name unlike any other she’d used for it would hardly do if the guild or - heavens forbid - her father learned of this little endeavor. He had trained her for stealth, to stick to underhanded methods to gain the upper claw if a target could not be felled outright. To stay on her toes to evade situations like this. Hardly had he expected her to surge with the barbarity of a berserker, charge head long into the fray; though to her this could prove to be a good source of training. Something far different than the path of a rogue no matter how difficult it may be in the end.

However, if what had been gleaned from the stands alone said anything, this would at least prove exciting. The thrill of a hunt cut down into a few adrenaline fueled moments and that was a rush she could not deny. So she would not as limbs strode into the arena to face her proclaimed opponent. Catharnach. Another fallacy no doubt for this was a stage for their grand performance… yet only time would tell just who would come out on top. If she should stick to solely engaging from shadows.

Rolling combat 1d20: 5
Poor - You barely hurt your opponent

The ember giant is eager, but patient; he is waiting for his next match, an observer, studying his potential opponents and noting what signs they may unintentionally give or moves they have a habit of making without noticing it themselves. The gamblers and those simply there for the thrill of the entertainment are rowdy and cheering, Tearlach simply watches, and makes his exit at the end of every match.

Before long, he is Catharnach approaching his arena and his opponent. Though he approaches a new identity- a new face to read and learn. His opponent isn't nearly as large as the man from his last fight of the night yesterday; shes much quieter, too, with a face that's much easier to admire- if he had the time to do so, that is.

Introductions are made, and Catharnach leaves no time for any catty calls or obnoxious taunts to hype one another up. His hind limbs propel him forward, hurling his body at the woman. Forelimbs extended as jowls parted, his defenses merely an after thought as he sent his body towards hers. He intended on knocking the woman off her feet, while jaws reached for the back of her neck and sought purchase on the flesh for a better grip on her, should he land himself on her as he planned.


Notes: Hp: 70



I am Speaking."

Rolling combat 1d20: 20
Critical Hit - You deal a vicious blow

Mismatched gaze swiftly settles upon her opponent, a temporary mark, one she was not meant to fell nor drain entirely of his life forces though there lingered doubt that any in the stands would scold her should that line be crossed. A thought she clung to yet buried in the recesses of her mind all the same - she was not here to kill. Not yet anyways.

But a moment taken to observe the oversized brute, a towering behemoth like so many beasts met before. Muscular, daunting; traits that were sure to slow him down and leave a bulked frame far less agile than her own. A point proven in mere moments as he lurched toward her with little ceremony, no chances to offer the drip of teasing phrase. The glint of ivory catching in the low light though they hardly found purchase as the spice coated wolfess shifted.

Limbs dancing from the brunt of his path and leaving that great weight to thump against her side, an act which nearly knocked her off balance before correction sent her back toward him. A figure lurching toward all he so brazenly left exposed as the curvature of razor fangs reached for the soft tissues of his throat. All in a ploy to attempt hindering his own motions, no matter the reckless he already displayed.

HP: 65 (70-5)

Rolling combat 1d20: 2
Poor - You barely hurt your opponent

a fumbling giant was all he proved to be in his advance, a disappointment to him and likely the crowd. His frame only helped the woman gain purchase on his throat, coaxing a snarl from his chest as her teeth sank into his flesh. a searing hot pain shot throughout his throat and neck, his ears began to rang and he would shake himself from her tight grip, feeling her teeth move with him, like barbed wire caught in the skin as he pulled and the barbs only clung tighter. He shifts his weight all at once, shoving himself into her and attempts to drive her to the ground beneath them.


Notes: Hp: 70-25=45



I am Speaking."

Rolling combat 1d20: 10
Fair - You hurt your opponent moderately

Jaws clung like a vice about his throat, a snare that only tightened the more he thrashed about in those savage hopes for freedom. That deep reverberation of a snarl vibrating against her as it rose from his very core and yet this was not a hold she intended on giving up easily. No matter how that great weight fought to press against her. Forcefully widening her maw in a mixture of bloodied flesh and fur as ever more surged against her.

It was clear what this man was trying to do and Raiden hardly wished to find herself trapped beneath him. Left at the mercy of whatever violence flooded his thoughts, however, this recklessness could still be used against him. Or so she hoped.

Thinking fast her hold reluctantly loosened in feigned adjustment even as fangs still tangled against skin. An already teetering limb rising up to lash out, hoping to kick his own legs out from beneath him and turn the tide of his own attempts to down her. Shift motion so that when they fell against the stained earth that she would come out on top.

HP: 63 (65-2)

Rolling combat 1d20: 2
Poor - You barely hurt your opponent

He still fumbled about, bested by a woman smaller than he, but seemingly twice as vicious. Ember frame would topple, but not onto her- he was under her. frustration was easily getting the best of him, his temper tripping up his executions and fogging his mind and deflating the subtle ego he carried into the arena with him. Pearly whites would flash as he drove a muzzle towards a forelimb, weight being thrusted upwards as he reached for her leg.

Notes: Hp: 45-10=35



I am Speaking."

Rolling combat 1d20: 20
Critical Hit - You deal a vicious blow

Eyes bore down upon her mark in the same manner than any other held beneath her grasps before their life was snuffed out. A tail curling high over her back as a coy smile spread over that bloodied maw. Was he holding back? Or were he simply such a bumbling fool? Nary a trace of self preservation to be found in the how eagerly - how blindly - he surged toward an opponent. No matter the reasonings behind it Raiden was all too eager to take advantage of his floundering.

The barest brush of fangs all that was felt before a forelimb jerked back, the cinnamon coated femme pulling herself from that lurching frame. Away from the reach of those snapping jaws for she were hardly keen on being snared in that crushing grasp. A slow concentrating breath fled her lips, a lithe frame shifting in hopes to catch him by the shoulder as razored ivory aimed to tear away at rippling musculature.

HP: 61 (63-2)

Rolling combat 1d20: 12
Fair - You hurt your opponent moderately

his ego self confidence was perhaps weaker than he led himself to believe- every mistake a heavy blow to himself, screaming at himself on the inside whilst only viciously snarling on the outside. Crown would wrap around towards the bottom of his opponents neck as she continued the onslaught of his shoulder. If purchase is made, he would use his grip and weight on her to thwart her position, prompting a release from her own grip.

Notes: Hp: 35-25(!!)=10



I am Speaking."

Rolling combat 1d20: 17
Competent - You deal a painful blow

An ample supply of blood coated her tongue as now stained ivories tore into the dark male’s shoulder, sundering flesh with every jerk of her crown. Something this Catharnach only assisted in with his own shifting - no doubt efforts to pull away from the brunt of her attack - though it is in these moments he seems to find himself. Righting that bull in a china shop act to whirl upon her with a new found vigor as the resounding sensation of punctures echoed against skin.

Fangs driving into the base of her neck before a weight much greater than she could ever hold wrenched her back. She could not let herself be taken so easily into his grasps. So it is in her own explosive burst of motion that she arches half ‘n’ half features back. Teeth reaching toward the tantalizing curve of his jaw line to snap and tug at all one could seize.

HP: 49 (61-12)

Rolling combat 1d20: 15
Competent - You deal a painful blow

he feels the grasp on him, a tug that only irriates with the other burning senesations tray already plagued his body from this woman. He is simply too focused on not facing defeat that he is powering through her onslaught, even though the struggle is half the battle. He attempts to pull his face from her grasp, aiming once more for a forelimb to tug and pull on.

Notes: Hp: 10-9=1, **perk used



I am Speaking."