#toaboel2022

[amitieos]

After decimating her previous two opponents, Ishtar walks onto this next battlefield with an upright and dignified air. She knows she can do this. It's within her grasp. She can taste it.

She appears in one vivid flash, tantamount to the heinous villain she must be. Ishtar rules supreme over this battlefield - she knows it is her opponent who will beg for mercy in their last bated breaths. But, oh yes, this is a mock battle. How trife.

The girl before her begets gentle feelings and a warm wind. It is almost nauseating, making her skin crawl. Ishtar must get rid of her immediately. She reaches for her casting hand, ready to turn this girl into dust.

"Are you ready to suffer?" Ishtar called out, her voice lilting slightly.

Roll: 5 --> Miss! --> 0HP lost

She missed. How could that be? Ishtar stares back and forth from her hand to the girl but there is no mistake. Her magic was ineffective. It had never failed her before........... Then she would get it in with the next hit. She swore it.

“Suffer? Wow, you’re really into this,” Elincia laughs in response, twirling the lance in her hand. She had to be ready for anything. “It’s simply a mock battle but I’ll give it my all too! Let’s both do our best.”

An arc of thunder and the scent of ozone crashes nearby but Elincia is swift and deft enough to manoeuvre out of the way just in time. Letting out a deep breath, she considers how best to close the distance between herself and her opponent.

“I’m Elincia, by the way. Of House Crimea. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Pleasantries are followed by a carefully placed jab of her lance. Not enough to cause any real damage but strong and fast enough to make it quite clear to the young lady who challenged her that Elincia has no intention of making this easy for her.

Roll d20+2 (knightkneeler) 10! -2 damage to Ishtar. 4/6 HP remaining.

Roll d20 (follow up): 3 Miss!

Her follow up falters though - the silver haired woman clearly wants to win at least as much as she does. If not more so and neither woman was willing to give anything away.

“You fight valiantly, thank you for this grand honour.”

Elincia has 5/5 HP remaining

[blaydiud]

“You were able to give me quite the beating, with effort or not! I truly thought that I was going to be the one to fall.”

BOEL2022 - Round 1 end

[baldramuste]

blasphemous rumors

@avemaera (moved from here)

Something flutters in his chest at the breathy little laugh Sigurd makes. Eyes dilate and stance goes rigid. ...Why was he laughing? Shouldn't he annoyed by the regent's bedside manner?

Arvis ducks his head away, to curtain the warmth he feels in his face. "You don't want these wounds to become infected, do you?"

When busy hands are done cleaning the wounds, he finds now that they should also heal them. Faith could not wield the same potency as the body could. Suitable in the heat of battle, yes, but it was preferable outside of it to allow nature her time. But a little healing could soothe some pain.

Still, Arvis's fingertips hesitate just above the lord's flesh, before tracing along the knotted valleys of Valflame's wrath.

Scars and trust were but other things Faith could not mend.

Something like an apology hangs in the air, but shame or pride keeps it unspoken.

sigurd completely misses any sign of any kind of embarrassment arvis shows. “you sound just like my sister.” he huffs out another laugh with momentarily shut eyes, remembering all the times she’s chastised him for not sitting still for these kinds of injuries. for daring to even risk getting an injury infected. “but no, you’re right. i don’t.” he opens his eyes again gazing down at arvis as his wounds are cleaned.

he blinks, watching as arvis reaches his hand out towards his chest. the emperor’s fingers slowly and delicately trace the scars leftover from belhalla and sigurd can only wonder why. arvis is never delicate, least of all not with him.

“arvis?” he breaks the silence between them before it can start to get uncomfortable for sigurd. a trace of concern lines his voice and shows itself in his eyes. “what’s wrong?”

[boundlesshart]

edain&claude boel r2

running and running from @ulirblood

she dodges easily out of the way of the first arrow, stepping to the sides. the second she is not so lucky, edain flinching as the arrow hits her in the shoulder. she never did have a very high pain tolerance.

“do not run away from me, claude!” she calls out to him playfully, still enjoying herself despite the spike of pain. she prepares seraphim again, attempting to spot him in the shadows of the trees.

[ edain rolls to attack, 4+2 = 6, miss! ]

but with the way he tries to fight her from the shadows, edain’s aim does not hold true this time. she utterly misses her attempt at the second cast, magic usually so confident in her hands sputtering at the mistake.

The spell flies wide–

Edain misses! Claude HP 4.5/5

thank you, thank you, thank you–and Claude continues his retreat. He will run, thank you very much. Does he head for the forest again? That might be dangerous, if she has a fire spell to throw around... Claude may want a repeat of the first victory in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, but the forest fire Celica set is better left in the past.

And so Claude runs.

Round 3 counterattack! Roll: 5 + 4 = 9, barely hit! 0 damage dealt.

Round 4 attack! Roll: 12 + 4 = 16, hit! 0.5 damage dealt. Claude heals +0.5, 5/5HP

He’s getting sloppier by the second, but he doesn’t want to make himself an easier target...

[elysofnir]

@flowerofgoneril asked:

Maybe if she brings the most ridiculous weaponry this year, Hilda will be able to get out in the first round. Is it so much to ask to simply relax in the infirmary tent? Clad in a festive little Santa dress, she approaches Tana with a sack of gift boxes over her shoulder. At least she looks cute! Hilda takes the sack and gives it a very pathetic swing sort of in her opponent's direction. It's enough to maybe make it look like she might have tried. "Hehe oops! I missed!" Gift sack: 4 miss 0 dmg

“𝓞𝓱! Hello!” Tana greets with a short bow. “You must be my opponent! Let’s have a good m—!” 

          The sack Hilda holds doesn’t even touch her, it barely comes within her range of motion. She stares at the sack, swinging in the air now pathetically hanging from Hilda’s hands. She didn’t have a problem with the unorthodox weapon of choice, but it was hard not to think she was being mocked. It was only now that she notices the costume as well. A clown would have been more fitting for this poor circus act.

          Tana may have been a new student, but that didn’t mean she lacked any combat knowledge! And this girl... 

          Her fingers grip the lance and anger floods through her as she swings it towards Hilda.  “I do not appreciate being taken for a fool,” she huffs.

[ Roll d20+4: 19 / Dmg -2 ] [ Tana HP after counter: 6/6 ]

          There was some word for the feeling she has. Satisfaction perhaps, but it was not good enough, not for her. ‘I missed~!’ Hilda’s words echo and she feels the anger building in her again. Tana swings her lance again, teeth gritted.

[ Roll d20+2: 15 / Dmg 0 ]

            Ordinarily, the angle and impact at which she struck would certainly fracture, but it was like the end is bounced off this... this costume. Bewildered, Tana observes the end of her lance with a raised brow. 

[arcaediaen]

@lilactippedlillies​ sent: toa boel ask

Lyon does not think he has ever seen this girl before. No matter. This is a battle and if he hesitates, even for a second, it'll be over in a flash. He's only lucky that he survived the first round. He'll have to try harder this time to not be overpowered by others.

Still, though, battle was never his strong suit. Lyon stands on the field and tries to ground himself. He can see other students beginning their battles. It's high time he began.

"I don't think we've ever met," Lyon tells the girl. "I apologize if I injure you."

The prince conjures that sickly sweet familiar sensation of magic running cold throughout his body. It's a potent force, hard to be reckoned with, and as he gathers it in his hand, he wonders just how far this shot will go. Just keep going. As the power becomes condensed, he can see it is ready. He shoots it off, sends it flying to the girl with blue hair.

Roll [3] death. Barely hit. no damage - 0 HP

As the battle wears on, the crowd begins to thin. 

Caeda is among the remaining combatants, and there is a sense of satisfaction that staves off her exhaustion as she tromps across Gronder in search of her next opponent. It is something like proof to her that she is every bit as capable on the battlefield as she makes herself out to be. 

Her enemy finds her first: a mage under the standard of the Black Eagles. A long head of pale lilac frames an shy, almost nervous expression. 

“We have not,” Caeda confirms, dipping her head in a brief greeting. “I am Caeda, of the Blue Lions. Do not fret about injuring me — a mock battle is only enjoyable when both parties give it their all, don’t you agree?”

COUNTERATTACK WITH: BLESSED LANCE. ROLL 1D20 = 1! MISS! TOTAL 0 DAMAGE DEALT. LYON HAS 6 / 6 HP REMAINING. CAEDA HAS 6 / 6 HP REMAINING.

A darkness manifests, coalescing thickly in the air around her. Holding her lance high, she sidesteps the spell before it strikes and lunges forward. The blow does not connect; her speartip glides through the empty air. Caeda pivots upon her heel, teeth grit, and swings again.

INITIATE ATTACK WITH: BLESSED LANCE. ROLL 1D20 = 7! BARELY HIT! TOTAL 0.5 DAMAGE DEALT. LYON HAS 5.5 / HP REMAINING.

Her lance grazes Lyon’s side. The blow is light, barely enough to draw blood. Caeda bites back her frustration. She must prepare for the mage’s next spells, and she must prepare to make her next blows count.

[flowerofgoneril]

"Hello, Hiiiiilda!" Elincia chimes as she swoops into view. It wasn't hard to find her competitior, given her rather eclectic get-up. Unique and terrifyingly effective at protecting her from enemy blows. This was going to be like pulling teeth, if Elincia could avoid being knocked out of the sky. "Is it hot in that? It looks really heavy."

Difficult to move in, too. Chrysaor whinnies as they hover in mid-air.

"Well, let's both give this our best shot! If I must lose here, at least I'll be losing to you." She smiles brightly, summoning the powers of thunder and lightning into the palm of her hand. Coursing through the air, her spell arcs and strikes Hilda. It doesn't do very much but it's something at least.

Roll d20 (+2 or +4?) 18/20: Hit! -0.5 damage.

Laughing, because that's all she can really do when her best spellcraft is so weak against her foe, Elincia falls back into a defensive position.

"Or maybe you could go easy on me? Just a little?"

"You know, I do think it's pretty hot, don't you?" Hilda gives a playful wink and strikes a little pose. She hasn't forgotten the way Elincia flirted with her during their little H.E.A.R.T date. She has no shame in using her charm to her advantage.

Elincia's first spell hits but it's easy to ignore the slight spark of pain. Perhaps she's gotten used to being on the receiving end of thunder magic after she went against Alfonse and his Levin sword.

"Oh don't worry! These noodles arms can barely even lift this lance!" Hilda lunges forward and brutally jabs poor Elincia with the point of her lance. Yes. Very noodly arms.

Roll: 14, crit!, -7 hp

Miracle procs!

Elincia hp: .5/5

Hilda hp: 4.5/5

[atypicalsenerio]

The final round had finally begun- and although the prince was already steeling himself for the next battle a small part of him wished for the break time to be just a little longer. He had managed to win, but by a hair's width, his body still feeling the successful strikes Julius managed to land on him.

He physically held himself from groaning as he looked down and spotted another mage in his range. It felt as if the Goddess wished to mess with him in this particular edition of the mock battle, sending him the exact type of opponent he'd rather avoid crossing ways with.

Soren, a powerful and mysterious mage and tactitian from the Golden Deer house. Being busy with his own battles didn't stop Dimitri from catching glimpses of the powerful fire spells exploding around the field, some of which were surely Soren's doing.

He gulped down dry. I need to get rid of him as fast as possible.

Dimitri attacks! RollD20+4= 19, hit! | Soren HP= 4.5/6

"-Good afternoon, Soren." Now that he thought about it, he should've greeted the other before diving from the sky and swiping at his ribs with his lance.

This won't do, I'm letting my emotions take the reins. There is no rage to be found here, just a friendly battle.

"Oh, uhm...sorry about that."

[Dimitri HP= 5/5]

Soren wasn’t one for pleasantries, especially not after an attempt to turn him into a Soren kibab.

Dimitri always seemed to have his manners about him. How irritating.

“Don’t be.”

Soren Counter Roll: 12-2, 10, hit. -2HP. Dimitri HP: 3/5

Though Dimitri was on a pegasus, the eruption of magic still burned his leg.