The morning light filtered into his den, casting faint golden beams across Bal's already golden coat. Stirring from his nest of dried moss and leaves, the growing prince stretched out his frame, his obsidian eyes catching a glimmer of light as they opened. His ravens perched above him, cawing impatiently, their black feathers glinting like onyx. With a low grunt, Balrog rose to his paws, slipping his obsidian dagger into its sheath. He fastened his plated bracers on his forelimbs, the weight feeling empowering as he walked out of his den.

"Alright, let's go," he murmured to his ravens, stepping out into the crisp morning air. His paws carried him south, toward the old battlefield that he had been visiting as of late. It did not take him long to get there, the territory only a short distance from the Armada. As he walked, he lifted his crown to echo a howl into the lands, calling for a sparring partner.

"Balrog"

Citadel was restless and frustrated, and he stalked the barren field of the Battlefield in search of an outlet. He was still reckless and fearless, with a hint of nothing to lose thrown into the mix. He was listening out for calls, looking for a challenge that interested him when his brother's call sounded through the crisp morning air.

He paused, one paw lifted as he froze, head tilted as he listened. You have gone too far, Citadel.. The words rang in his ears, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Anger, frustration, betrayal. This was a bad idea, this was such a bad idea.

He followed the sound of the call, and found the golden Prince waiting for a stranger. He was watching his brother's eyes as he appeared into view, and approached. Waiting for that moment of recognition to spark. What would he see? Anger? Disgust? “Still want a challenger?” he asked, voice as chilly as the ice that he belonged to.


"Speech"

Balrog's obsidian stare lifted as Citadel's enormous form emerged from the misty field - there was no mistaking the silhouette crowned as it were. The ravens on his shoulders could sense the emotion rising in Balrog, shifting uneasily where they perched. The battlefield felt colder than the frozen field he'd gotten lost in not long ago, the tension thick like the frost Citadel carried in his eyes. Balrog's heart twisted; anger, betrayal and... relief warring within him.

When Citadel's question came, Balrog couldn't help but be a bit apprehensive. There was so much unspoken between them, but perhaps this was the best way to express it. "Sure," Balrog said evenly, the barest tremor in his voice betraying him by showing his emotions. His eyes, although the pitched black of stares, seemed to glimmer with a burning fire as he locked on to Citadel.

His bracers shimmered as he adjusted his posture, jaw tight. Despite his guarded tone, his tail gave a single sway against his will - a silent acknowledgement that he was, indeed, relieved to see his brother, even in the chaos. He lowered it afterward and raised his hackles, his lips curling into a snarl as he set his defenses like they had learned as pups. He knew he was no match for his brother's experience, but he would show him his potential even so.

Without warning, Balrog lunged forward, his obsidian dagger now unsheathed and flashing as he swung low, aiming for Citadel's leg. His movements were sharp, deliberate, and fueled by the churn of emotions threatening to spill over within him. The ravens screeched as they took flight during his lunge in a flurry of wings.

Balrog vs Citadel for Spar
Round 1/?
Age: Under 1 year
Size: Titan
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Obsidian Dagger
Defensive Battle Accessory: Obsidian Plated Bracers
Companion 1: Raven, Male, 50" (Perception)
Companion 2: Raven, Female, 48" (Perception)
Mutation 1: Thicker fur - Defensive
Mutation 2: Retractable claws - Offensive
Mutation 3: Crystal obsidian eyes - Perception
Skills: Novice Fighter & Advanced Navigator

"Balrog"

Citadel kicked a foreleg forward, aiming to catch his brother's dagger on his bracer when he saw the dark glint of it aiming low. At the same time, he attempted to bring his jaws down on the back of Balrog’s scruff, behind his ear. Using his extra height as leverage to reach around the golden boy. Was Balrog their fathers prized son now? The one who had stayed.

Despite his emotions, his attacks so far weren’t aimed to hurt his brother. A part of him wanted to… if Balrog had challenged him on the day he had left, certainly. But today, today was something different. It was as if they were testing each other, looking to see where they stood. “How’s mother?” the words slipped out, almost casual, as if the answer didn’t matter.

Citadel vs Balrog for Spar
Round 1/2
Age: under 1
Size: Paleo species
Build: Balanced
Offensive Battle Accessory: Dagger
Defensive Battle Accessory: Bracers
Companion 1: Raven, female, 50" - boosted
Companion 2: Snow Leopard, Male, 25" crystal horns - boosted
*Companion 3: Black bear, Male - Battle - Boosted
Mutation 1: Bear Paws - Offensive
Mutation 2: Bone spurs - Defensive
Mutation 3: Crystal crown - Perception
Skills: Master Fighter & Expert Hunter


"Speech"

Balrog's golden form shifted subtly once he realized his dagger wasn't going to land, narrowly avoiding the teeth aimed for his scruff. He'd need to keep in mind how much taller Cit was; for a moment, he circled the behemoth warily. "She's alive, still hurt," he answered, his tone softer than before but obviously still tense. "She misses you. Did you think it would be easy for her to lose her prize son? For Father? For any of us?"

His anger began bleeding through into his words before he lunged forward again, feinting high before twisting mid-strike to aim his obsidian dagger toward Citadel's left flank. His movements were precise but lacked the bite of true malice, more of a test of Citadel's reflexes than what would be a fatal blow.

"You don't have to stay gone, Citadel," he growled as his ravens circled above, their harsh cries echoing over the barren field. "You don't belong out here, nor do you belong as a Songbird. Mother didn't know what else to do to teach you. You can come back, we can talk to her."

The words were weighted with his emotion, his attacks matching his plea - forceful, but.. controlled.

Balrog vs Citadel for Spar
Round 2/2
Age: Under 1 year
Size: Titan
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Obsidian Dagger
Defensive Battle Accessory: Obsidian Plated Bracers
Companion 1: Raven, Male, 50" (Perception)
Companion 2: Raven, Female, 48" (Perception)
Mutation 1: Thicker fur - Defensive
Mutation 2: Retractable claws - Offensive
Mutation 3: Crystal obsidian eyes - Perception
Skills: Novice Fighter & Advanced Navigator

"Balrog"

“She lost me the moment she decided I deserved to be a slave” his voice went flat, angry. Balrog lost him somewhere in the conversation, and when the golden wolf aimed his dagger at Cit’s flank, the crystal marked boy jabbed his hindleg up quick and hard, aiming to hit Balrog’s dagger (or cheek, he didn’t really care at that moment) with the bone spur on his back knee. His spurs were a built in defence designed to protect his stomach and flank from moves like that one.

He twisted his front, trying to grab at Balrog’s side and neck with his teeth. “Would you do it? Would you have crawled away from that judgement, a slave?” He snarled at his brother.

Citadel vs Balrog for Spar
Round 2/2
Age: under 1
Size: Paleo species
Build: Balanced
Offensive Battle Accessory: Dagger
Defensive Battle Accessory: Bracers
Companion 1: Raven, female, 50" - boosted
Companion 2: Snow Leopard, Male, 25" crystal horns - boosted
*Companion 3: Black bear, Male - Battle - Boosted
Mutation 1: Bear Paws - Offensive
Mutation 2: Bone spurs - Defensive
Mutation 3: Crystal crown - Perception
Skills: Master Fighter & Expert Hunter


"Speech"

And the winner is...

Balrog

Citadel must give up by submitting, fleeing or passing out. Totals: Citadel: Attack Roll: 11 Defense Roll: 11 Agility Roll: 8 Perception Roll: 26 Total: 56 Attack[11] + 95% Bonus[10.45]: 21.45 Defense[11] + 20% Bonus[2.20]: 13.20 Agility[8] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 8.00 Perception[26] + 30% Bonus[7.80]: 33.80 Total[76.45] + 10% Bonus[7.64]: 84.09 Balrog Attack Roll: 42 Defense Roll: 86 Agility Roll: 9 Perception Roll: 32 Total: 169 Attack[42] + 30% Bonus[12.60]: 54.60 Defense[86] + 25% Bonus[21.50]: 107.50 Agility[9] + 15% Bonus[1.35]: 10.35 Perception[32] + 30% Bonus[9.60]: 41.60 Total[214.05] + -15% Bonus[-32.11]: 181.94

Balrog grunted as the bone spur grazed his dagger, forcing his strike off course. The impact stung, but he gritted his teeth and twisted with the momentum, narrowly avoiding Citadel’s snapping jaws at his side. His brother’s words cut deeper than any blow. Slave. Judgement. The anger in Citadel’s voice was palpable, but Balrog could feel the pain underneath it.

“I would’ve fought,” Balrog growled, his voice steady but raw, “but not to leave, and not with physical strength. I would have fought for you. For us. For my right to be a part of this family with a voice of reason.” He surged forward, feinting low before sweeping the dagger up in a fluid arc. The move ended with the obsidian blade poised at Citadel’s throat, just close enough for the cool edge to press lightly against his fur.

For a moment, Balrog held his position, his breathing heavy, eyes locked with Citadel’s. Then, slowly, he let the dagger drop to the ground with a dull thud. “I would never want to see you a slave,” he said, stepping back and offering his brother space. His voice softened, though his golden form still radiated tension. “You’re my brother, Citadel. But she- she is our mother. How could you harm her?”

He looked away, as if the barren battlefield held the answer. “If you think freedom is out here, then I hope you find it.” His gaze returned to Citadel, searching for a flicker of the bond they once shared. "And I hope that you do not find anything worse."

"Balrog"

True anger, black and cold flooded Citadels eyes as Bals dagger ended at his throat. There was a silent dare mixed in that seething cold anger. Daring his brother to push that dagger a little harder, that the fight wouldn't end until one of them was dead. 


Instead, his brother dropped that dagger, and the blue wolf's paw twitched with a desire to do something he's regret. “You understand nothing, brother.” He said, leaning forward into the space his brother provided. “Perhaps one day, someone will threaten your freedom, will force into a position that goes against your nature. Let's see how you fair then. Let's see how far you'll go.” Or perhaps Balrog, so patient and careful with his choices would take the cowards way out. Citadel felt they would never understand each other, that this chasm growing between them could never be traversed. How could they be brothers. Yet be so different?